Perilous Travels (The Southern Continent Series Book 2) (28 page)

“I’ll go look in the mine.  There doesn’t appear to be anyone here,” Grange stated the obvious.  He walked to the mine entrance, then raised his wand, and uttered a phrase in the old tongue, calling the energy in his wand to come forth as a series of brightly glowing balls that floated in the air. They appeared – to sounds of gasps from the others – and then moved away from him, into the mine.

He had a sudden sense of déjà vu, a recollection of the time he had spent with Garrel in the canal tunnel in the mountain between Fortune and Palmland.  It too had been a dark place – it had seemed tolerable at the time, but as he faced the prospect of re-entering the world of underground chambers, he felt considerable reluctance, even with the bright illumination that his glowing energy was providing.

“Anyone who was still here might have retreated into the mine to stay warm – it’s warmer in there than it is out here,” Monton said.

Grange turned to look at him, then sensed a sudden movement in the tunnel, something swiftly flying out directly towards him.  As he turned to see what it was, the others shouted in fear, and he instinctively reacted by firing energy from his wand wildly, without aim or thought, a panicked act of self-preservation.

A trio of bats flittered overhead, and Grange sheepishly realized that the winged creatures were the only movement from the mine.  After a check of the others led to a round of nodded heads, he led them into the opening, and they started to advance.

The glowing balls of energy hung in the air, pressed against the ceiling of the mine every twenty yards or so, and the men with Grange were more interested in examining the lights than in looking about the mine, until the group reached the third of the lights, where Grange stopped in horror.  The others bumped into him as he stood still, and they wrenched their eyes from the light overhead to see that Grange was staring aghast at a grisly splash of blood darkening the wall of the mine, while a pile of bloody clothes lay stiffly beneath; there was no sign of a body.

“What happened here?” Knox asked plaintively.

“Let’s leave the mine,” Monton suggested

Grange held his wand outward once again, its point aimed towards the dim tunnel into the interior of the mountain, while his ears strained for any sound.

“Ariana,” he spoke aloud, “is there danger down in the mine?”

“Who are you talking to?” Monton asked.

There is evil in this place – great evil,
Ariana said.  Though he was glad to hear it, Grange thought her voice sounded sad. 
But it is not necessarily down in the mine; it is very near, but I cannot tell where.

Grange released a sheet of flaming energy that hurled forward, away from the end of his wand, scouring the empty darkness that descended downward.  There was no reaction, but he felt better for having done it.

“What happening, my lord?” the other guard asked.

“I’m just jittery, I guess,” Grange answered.  He aimed his wand, and fired a new series of glowing energy balls, sending them hurling downward into the deeper stretches of the mine.

“If anyone’s down there, maybe that’ll bring them out,” he ventured to explain why he had fired the lights.  He had drained only a portion of the vast store of energy that he had compressed into the wand, but he intended to not use any more immediately.  He wanted to preserve as much strength as possible, to have it ready in the event that something dangerous began to attack.

“Let’s go back outside and tell the others,” he said after several seconds of waiting.

The group slowly backed out of the mine, Grange walking backward and watching the tunnel behind them, while the others led the way forward.  They all sighed in relief when they returned to the sunlight in the mountain valley.

Grange looked out at the valley, and say the rest of the newly-arrived caravan still down below.

“Monton, go down and tell the others to come up here.  There are no survivors, but there’s lots of ore to be retrieved,” he said to the designated messenger.

The man silently tipped his fingers to his forehead, then turned and began to jog down the trail away from the mine.

Grange and the others stood and watched Monton as he descended the trail, moving in and out of sight at times as the path followed the contours of the mountain side.

At one point Monton seemed to slip, and he fell out of sight for several seconds.

“Do you want me to go check on him?” Knox asked as the mule driver seemed to have grown incapacitated.  Before Grange could answer though, Monton stood up.  He dusted himself off, then turned and waved to the party at the mine, before resuming his messenger duties.

Grange and the guards remained at the mine, undisturbed but uneasy as they watched the string of mules slowly start to form up and begin the march up the trail to the mine.   Grange took time to examine the surroundings carefully,  and he began to discover that there were signs of the former mining presence all around - remains of shelters among the rocks and scrubby bushes that occupied the hillsides.  The ruins of the roughly stacked stone huts were the minimal protection the miners would have received to keep out of the blustery weather in the southern mountains.   It wouldn't have been a pleasant existence, especially for men used to tropical Kilau, he realized.

"Did the miners stay here very long?" Grange asked Knox.

“Not many stayed here for more than a couple of seasons,” Knox said.  “There were some criminals that were sent here as punishment,” he explained, a story that resonated with Grange, “but those that were allowed to leave left as soon as they could.  It’s too cold and lonely here.”

Grange silently agreed with the assessment, and the trio lapsed into silence once again.  By early afternoon, the first of the mules reached the level of the mine, and mournfully marched into the open area where Grange and the others waited.

“I’m sure Monton told you that no one’s left here,” Grange reported to Persole and Glendon, as Jarrel worked to have the mules positioned for loading up.  “Did he tell you what we found in the mine?” Grange asked in a lower voice.

“He did,” Persole answered.  “Have you gone back into the mine, gone further in to check more?”

“No, nor did we even go near it again,” Grange replied.

“I’ll give you ten guards to take in, if you’ll make a thorough investigation of the mine,” Persole urged.  “The rest of us will stay out here to oversee the loading of the mules.”

Grange gave an inward sigh, then looked over to re-examine the entrance to the deadly darkness.  With all the men and mules milling around in front of the mine, it didn’t seem as dismal as it had earlier, he decided.  With ten others to accompany him, he could ratchet up the courage to go back.

“I’d like to be able to report back home that we made a sincere effort to find the survivors,” Persole added a layer of guilt to Grange’s conscious to prod him.

“You select your guards, and tell them to meet me at the mine mouth,” Grange answered.  He walked over to the dark opening, and waited, as a number of men came reluctantly forward to join him, the unlucky men appointed to enter the forbidding darkness.

Grange used his wand, and created a large number of globes of light, which he sent into the tunnel ahead of the men, raising their spirits as they saw the bright illumination drive away the darkness.  Their improved morale lasted until they came to the scene of death in the tunnel, but Grange rushed them past it hurriedly, and they stayed close to one another as they crept down the mine shaft.

When they reached the first branching of the tunnel, Grange appointed half the men to guard the intersection, while he took the other half through the side shaft.  They passed a number of rooms and pillars before they reached the end of the tunnel, then returned to their nervously awaiting companions, and proceeded further.

Grange added more of the lighting globes that he suspended in the tunnel twice more during the search, but by the end of the afternoon, he and all of the others returned to the camp on the surface without loss of men nor with any new information to report.  The mine had been completely abandoned – no people, no tools, no signs of anything or anyone was seen.

Half the mules were already loaded by sunset, the ore containers speedily lashed to the animals by men who were eager to leave the vicinity of the mine as quickly as possible.  Persole appointed everyone available to serve guard duty that night, trying to relieve the jittery nerves that everyone felt, including him.

Grange was put on the middle shift, serving during the darkest hours of the night.  He patrolled around all parts of the campsite, speaking with every other guard as he passed them, asking if anything unusual was occurring, and spending additional time near the mouth of the mine, tense as the darkness of the mine seemed to contaminate the gloom of the cold night with an additional layer of fear.

The shift was almost over, when Grange heard his name called loudly by the furthest-stationed guards, and he ran towards them.

“There’s something moving among the rocks,” one of the sentries told Grange in a loud whisper.  “We heard it moving towards us, but we couldn’t see anything.”

No one could see anything, Grange knew, since only the center of the camp had a meager fire burning, one that was consuming the dwindling supply of fire wood the caravan had packed into the mine site.

Grange raised his wand and lofted a number of glowing balls of power overhead, bringing brightness and light to vicinity, and letting him and the guards crane their necks while they looked around among the rocks and bushes, straining to detect any sign of movement or threat nearby.

After five minutes, the lights began to fade, and nothing had appeared.

“You’re sure you heard something?” Grange turned to ask the guards.

And then something large leapt out of the darkness and struck him, snarling as it knocked him to the ground.

The two sentries screamed in terror and fled in the darkness, as Grange felt a powerful force squeezing his shoulder, seemingly trying to wrench his arm out of place, but thwarted by the protective covering of Rigan’s black clothing, enhanced by the power of the dark jewel itself, which sat embedded in the fabric on Grange’s chest.  A blow scrapped along the side of his skull, tearing at his scalp, temple and cheek, inflicting terrible pain.

He pulled his knife out from his belt and struck wildly, plunging his knife into the unseen opponent that straddled his chest.  The knife sunk in, he pulled it out, then stabbed again and again.

There was a roar, and a warm flood across his face.  Grange felt his attacker grow immediately weaker, and with a heave, Grange displaced it off of his chest.  Grange rolled away and rose to one knee, then raised his hand without even bothering to pull out his wand in his hasty fear, and he produced three bright lights that began to float overhead, illuminating the violent scene.

There was a large, white and tawny spotted mountain lion, lying dead on the ground, blood oozing out from the stab wounds where Grange had providentially struck it in the heart.

“Grange?” A voice shouted his name moments later, as he sat on the cold ground, pressing his hand against his injured head, glad he hadn’t been hurt worse.  He was glad for Rigan’s protective outfit once again, knowing that the jewel had given up her human form to metamorphose into the wonderful defense – every bit as valuable as the knife and sword that Brielle and Ariana had similarly become.

“I’m here, in the light,” Grange threw back his head and shouted.  He slowly stood up, then inched forward and nudged the lion’s body with his toe, confirming that it was dead.  The carcass was scrawny he saw – the lion had not been feeding well, and had undoubtedly chosen to attack Grange only in desperation.

Jarrel and three guards arrived at the scene.  They stopped and gaped at the dead carnivore.

“You fought that?  With your wizard powers?” Jarrel asked after his inspection of the sight.

“No, just my knife,” Grange answered.  “It isn’t very big; it must have been hungry,” he observed out loud.

“Since the mine started, our men hunted this valley pretty clean of game, and the next one over too, looking for anything they could to add to the supplies we shipped in,” Jarrel informed him.

“Do you think that’s what killed the men here?” one of the guards asked.

Grange and Jarrel exchange glances, then shrugged.  The lion was unlikely to have killed many men, he suspected, though it might have killed one or two.

“Well, if this excitement is over, we’ll get those two cowardly guards back here to finish their shift, and we’ll deal with them in the morning.  Grange, come with me and we’ll clean up your wounds,” Jarrel said, and they all walked back to the heart of the camp together.

Inside a tent, Jarrel lit a tiny candle, then used a flask of alcohol that burned as it cleaned away the blood clotted around the deep scratches on Grange’s temple and face.

“You may have some scars from these, but the story will be so powerful the ladies will admire you all the more for them,” Jarrel said comfortingly.  “Just tell them you killed a lion with a knife in single combat!” his voice marveled at the claim.

Grange laughed at the cheery means the man used to turn the deadly fight into an advantage for courting women, then went to his own tent and slept uneasily, the pain in his shoulder and along his cheek keeping him tossing and turning in a fruitless search for rest.  When the sunlight from dawn grew bright enough to penetrate his tent, he grumpily arose, used more energy to renew his warmth, then focused on delivering more energy into his wand, restoring the power he had drained out of the amulet the day before while exploring the empty mine.