Hidden (Marchwood Vampire Series #1) (21 page)

A mixture of
fear and great excitement took over. He had actually done it. He
had quite possibly found the entrance to the underground city.
Others had failed, but he, Alexandre Chevalier, had doggedly
followed a hunch which had proved him right. He allowed himself a
moment of self-congratulatory pleasure before standing up and
looking around.

His eyes
adjusted to the gloom, relieved to see at least some light, even if
it was only a faint glow. The air smelt musty and old, moist and
earthy, but the whisper of a breeze stroked his wet face bringing
an overtone of freshness. Eerily quiet, all he could hear was the
echoing drip, drip, drip of water on stone and a faint rippling in
the underground lake.

Alexandre
stood up and balanced along the ledge until he reached a wider area
of rock floor. The walls looked solid with no other entranceway
that he could see. He walked along a little further, clambering
over rubble. He stepped onto a smooth rock, shaped like a slice
taken from an enormous cylinder, but broken in half. Climbing up
further, he came to a large gap in the wall. An entranceway? His
heart sped up. It looked like it could be a tunnel.

He stepped
over the broken rock and peered into unending darkness. Close up,
were fragments of what appeared to have been a carved pillar. He
entered the black space and crept forward a little way. It was no
good. The darkness would swallow him up. He needed more light.
Alexandre backed out and climbed down over the large broken
wheel-like stone. It had a hole in the middle, like a massive
millstone.

Could this
really be the underground city from the legend, sealed off from the
inside and hidden from the outside world? He started to believe it
and yearned to explore but knew that right now was not the time.
Reluctantly, he returned to the river bank, surfaced next to the
stone column and swam back to dry land where he saw Isik waiting,
scanning the river for him.

‘
It is there. It is as the old woman said,’ Alexandre panted,
sitting on the river’s edge and sipping the water Isik handed
him.

‘
But this is incredible. Tell me what you saw.’

Alexandre got
his breath back and went on to describe the underground lake in the
cavern. He told him about the partially blocked tunnel that he
believed could very well lead to other parts of the lost city.

‘
The carved pillar proves it is not just a natural cave. And
those tunnels are most probably man made.’

‘
We are only about an hour from camp,’ Isik said. ‘Shall we go
now before it is dark? You must be eager to tell your family of
your great discovery.’

‘
No. I am going back in, but I need to take supplies with
me.’

‘
You cannot go there alone,’ Isik said. ‘Forgive me, but that
would be foolish, with or without demons.’

‘
You said yourself we are not far from camp. I could travel
back there through the caves. I would probably make it there within
only a few hours.’

‘
No,’ Isik said. ‘I must insist you do not go. It will be dark
soon and we should return. You will have your chance to explore
tomorrow. Just be patient for one more day ... Please.’

‘
You are right of course. It is just that I am burning with
curiosity to see what lies there. But I will wait. Shall we make
camp here tonight? I suddenly feel very tired. I think it must be
all that swimming.’

Isik laughed.
‘Tired? A moment ago, you were ready to go exploring underground
caves. Very well, we will leave first thing in the morning and in
the meantime you can dream of your caves.’

He continued
chuckling to himself whilst Alexandre stared into the river where
the water eddied at the top of the stone pillars.

*

Isik awoke, as
always, at dawn. He opened his eyes and sat up. The sun rose behind
him and the sky slowly bleached white before deepening into a
familiar blue. He instantly knew something was wrong. Alexandre was
nowhere to be seen.

His eyes fell
upon a small scrap of paper on the ground, weighted down with a
rock. He growled and ripped it out from under the rock to read.

Forgive me, Isik. I had to go. Do not worry.

I will see you back at the site very shortly.

Alexandre

Isik kicked
the rock that had weighted down the note.

‘
That damn donkey of a boy!’ he swore in his native
tongue.
Didier Chevalier will never
forgive me,
he thought to himself.
I am a fool to have trusted his son.

Isik did not
bother with breakfast. He jumped onto his horse, took Alexandre’s
steed and galloped back to camp as fast as he possibly could. He
worried about what the Chevaliers would say to him. Would they hold
him responsible?

Thankfully,
the boy had the good sense to take Isik’s bag and knife, but the
Turk would have beaten anyone else who dared take his knife without
asking. He knew he had to get back to camp as quickly as possible,
but he dreaded telling them what had happened. He also felt
foolish. Luckily he did not have far to travel.

Heads down,
eyes narrowed, the horses thundered across the dirt and they
thundered across the rock, oblivious to what waited below.

*

The old
woman’s story of the demons, although patently fictional, had
spooked Alexandre somewhat and if he was to go alone into a dark
underground cave, he would feel more reassured if there was
daylight outside. He waited until most of the night had passed,
preparing to leave before dawn. His plan would go awry if Isik
awoke before him.

Alexandre
hesitated before borrowing the guard’s knife and leather drawstring
bag, but reasoned that Isik would not mind. He would return them
soon enough. And if the water damaged them he would replace
them.

He tucked the
knife securely into his breeches. Then, into the bag he put his own
leather boots. In each of these he had placed some provisions. In
one: a flask of fresh water, some strips of meat and some pitta
bread. In the other: a compass, two candles and some striking
matches. He placed a metal cup over the top, hoping the contents
would manage to stay dry. He tied the bag across his bare chest and
dropped into the cold dark river.

Once Alexandre
surfaced in the underground cavern, he tugged at the drawstring to
Isik’s heavy wet bag and pulled out his sopping boots. He smiled
with relief to see his compass working, his candles and matches
still dry. Pulling on his squelching boots, he held out the compass
to see which way was west – the way back to camp.

Having
clambered back up onto the broken stone, Alexandre peered once
again into the unyielding blackness of the tunnel. He stepped
inside, struck a match and lit one of the candles. The smell of
sulphur burned sharp in his nostrils and the flame illuminated
moisture dripping down black-green walls.

Suddenly, a
great cloud of squeaking swooshing bats shot out of the darkness
and headed straight for him. He dropped the candle and tried to
shield himself as they flew into his hair and at his face. He shook
himself and shuddered as the last one dived away. They swept on
past him, circled the cavern and disappeared into the roof of the
cave.

Alexandre
picked up the candle with trembling fingers. What else could be
hiding down here? He held out the candle and relit it. Then, with
his free hand, he fingered the handle of Isik’s knife, ready to
unsheathe it at the first sign of danger. The bats had unnerved him
and he tried to slow his breathing and calm down before
continuing.

The flame cast
an eerie glow in the long grey tunnel. Narrow and low-ceilinged, it
sloped gradually downwards away from the river. The rock walls were
dry down here and the sound of dripping water receded. All
Alexandre could hear were his loud breaths and the squelching
trudge of his soggy leather boots. Every few feet, recesses had
been cut into the wall, maybe to house candles or lanterns of some
kind.

After about a
ten minute walk, Alexandre reached a crossroads. Each way was
clear, so he pulled out his compass and headed into the west-facing
tunnel. A few moments later, he found himself standing in a great
hall with a high barrel-vaulted ceiling. Frescoes and carvings
adorned the walls and thick carved columns ran along both sides of
the space. Alexandre shook his head at the sheer scale and
craftsmanship.

He held his
candle out in front of him to inspect the frescoes more closely.
They appeared to be religious pictures, beautifully depicted but
the subject matter was quite gruesome with much blood and gore.
Alexandre supposed they were biblical scenes of hell or maybe some
of the more grisly Old Testament stories. He shivered and turned
away, looking instead at his compass which showed west to be in the
left hand corner of the cavernous hall. 

He walked
across the vast expanse, his footsteps echoing, and saw a flight of
steps leading downwards. Another floor! But he could not descend
now; he needed to get back to the camp. He shivered, still wet and
now quite chilled. Entering another corridor, he broke into a slow
run to try and warm himself up, shielding the candle with his hand
to stop it going out.

He felt less
nervous now and grinned to himself, excited at the thought of
telling his parents what he had found. They would be ecstatic.

But suddenly,
Alexandre slowed. Up ahead the tunnel ended. Something was blocking
his path. Something huge.

*

Whilst
Alexandre travelled beneath the ground, his family was back at the
site having breakfast with the Swintons. They looked up from their
conversation as Isik charged into camp, dust flying out behind him
like a swirling serpent.

The Turk
dismounted and tried to break the news of Alexandre’s disappearance
without anger or worry coming through in his voice. But he could
not prevent the reaction that he knew his news would provoke.

‘
That boy has always been trouble!’ Didier shouted. ‘What in
the name of God was I thinking, letting him go off like that? I
should have known the stupid idiot was not to be
trusted.’

‘
Shhh, Didier,’ Marie-Louise rubbed her hands up and down his
upper arms, trying to calm him. ‘I too feel sick with worry but
there is no use upsetting yourself like this.’

‘
He is wilful, but worse than that, he is selfish,’ Didier
fumed. ‘Does he think he is going to come back to a hero’s welcome?
Pah!’

‘
He is a child, he was excited …’ she began. And then she
burst into tears.

‘
He is a man and he is an idiot,’ Didier countered and then,
as he realised his wife was crying, he stopped talking and put his
arms around her to try to offer some comfort.
What was to be done?

Everybody was
at a loss as to what to do or say next.

‘
Well,’ Harold finally said. ‘Victoria and I could return with
Isik to the river bank whilst you wait here to see if he returns. I
could go down into the cave and try to find him there
...’

‘
If anybody is going into the cave, it will be me!’ said
Didier. ‘I am the foolish boy’s father. I cannot let anybody else
put themselves in danger on his account.’

‘
Whatever you decide, Didier,’ Harold said. ‘You ask it and we
shall all comply willingly.’

‘
You are a good friend, Harold,’ Didier’s tone softened. ‘I am
sorry for shouting. It is just that I am so worried. And look at
the distress he has caused his mother.’

*

In the tunnel,
Alexandre had been forced to stop. And now he saw the reason why.
Something huge was blocking his way. It was a giant millstone.

He looked up
at the massive cylindrical slice. It reached over head height,
maybe eight or nine feet tall. He would have to turn back and find
another route. A niggle of worry crept in but he tried to ignore
it. He would find another way out. And if the worst came to the
worst, he would just have to go back to the river. Alexandre
paused, his brain making connections and then it suddenly came to
him!

Back at the
camp, down in the shaft, that large rock with the hole in it which
blocked the entrance - it was a millstone! Excitement replaced
worry and Alexandre pushed at the edge of the cylinder to see if it
would move. It rocked just a fraction of an inch, so he put his
full weight behind it. His heart lightened as it rolled heavily,
crashing into a u-shaped stone at the side which held it in place.
A wide opening in the rock wall was revealed.

The tunnel
entrance was clear again! He marvelled at the ingenuity of the
people who had built this place but he had no time to stop and
ponder. He continued on his way, passing more millstones and more
sets of staircases descending downwards. He noticed large
earthenware pots, huge carved pillars, arches and all manner of
things that he would return to explore more thoroughly. But right
now, he had to try to ignore this strange and wondrous place and
get back to the site.

His route took him through black tunnels and caverns. Every
so often, a faint wisp of light shone down from above and he would
breathe in slightly fresher air –
ventilation shafts
. Suddenly he felt
a sharp stinging pain in his fingertips and, without warning, he
was in absolute darkness again. After a second or two of panic, he
realised his candle had burnt out and he fumbled in his bag to
reach the tin which contained the spare candle and
matches.