Feyt stirred, a moan escaped his lips. How can all my muscles hurt so much? Opening his eyes, he blinked several times, then sat bolt upright. He was in a dark strange place. At first, Feyt was not sure why he wasn’t in his own hut in Caernall. Looking around he saw Muroc and Aterius at a low fire, with other sleeping forms about. Yesterday’s gruesome events flooded back to him. He remembered where he was. He wished he had not. He moaned again as he stretched. Crawling out of his sleep-sack, he stood and stared at the cave mouth. Only snow showed where it had been. Wondering, he walked over to the fire, stepping around the other sleepers carefully. “Here!” Muroc gruffly thrust a tin cup at him. It steamed with a dark liquid. Feyt took it, feeling the heat of it almost too much to hold. He sniffed at it, not sure what it was. “Its barley-tea,” Muroc offered. Aterius, in a mocking voice said, “It is burnt barley-tea. Over-roasted, I assure you.” The black man ignored Muroc’s glare. “It’s fine.” He defended it. “Roasted for a man’s palate is all.” Muroc emphasized the word palate. Feyt blew on it a bit to cool it, and then sipped. Urk. The bitter taste filled his mouth as the heat of it scorched his lips. “You don’t like it?” Muroc demanded harshly. “No, it’s… fine. Just hot…. And strong.” Feyt groped for something nice to say about the bitter drink. Muroc grinned widely and hit Aterius on the shoulder. “See. I told you it was good. It’s just your princely palate.” Again, he stressed the word ‘palate’ strongly. Aterius looked as if he were sorely aggrieved by such a response. “It’s not my fault you didn’t know what the word ‘palate’ meant before today.” Turning to Feyt he urged, “Tell him how it really tastes.” Feyt just shrugged at Aterius and grinned at their mock argument. It makes the dire situation we are in seem less terrible. Besides, bitter and burnt though it may be, it is warm and that is not bad. “Mother Nature closed our front door for us. A small avalanche, at least I hope it is small. It did not take long for it to cover the cave mouth. You all slept right through it.” Muroc sipped his barley-tea. “Good thing is, the wolves can’t get in and there isn’t any draft now. Bad thing is, we’ll have to dig ourselves out eventually.” “No hurry, Aterius said calmly. “With a full blizzard raging outside, there is nothing we can do anyway except stay in the cave until it lets up. At least we are safe from the wolves.” “Arrgh. You mean they are safe from us!” Muroc corrected. Ignoring him, Aterius went on, “Full moon tonight, not that we’ll see it.” “You make enough noise to raise the dead,” came a querulous voice. Turning, Feyt saw Gairet standing behind him. His face was pale and his right arm hung limply in a bloodstained sling. “Gairet!” Feyt exclaimed. “Here sit down,” Aterius exclaimed offering a rock beside the fire. “What are you doing up?” Muroc demanded loudly. “You should be lying down.” Gairet waived them away weakly with his free left arm. “Enough. I have a mother back in Allenpond. I do not need three more.” Nevertheless, he sat wearily on the rock Aterius had offered. “Here,” Muroc offered Gairet a tin cup of barley-tea. “Don’t poison him!” Aterius exclaimed throwing his hands into the air. That brought Muroc into a fit of laughter and even Gairet grinned, or grimaced, at the humor. After Dokara and Tauras joined them, they all shared a portion of jerky and barley-tea, then each separated into self-appointed tasks. Muroc went to take stock of their remaining supplies. Aterius treated the bite marks on Gairet’s other arm and hands. Those minor wounds had been completely overlooked until now. Meanwhile Tauras helped Dokara rewrap his wounded forearm. Feyt was unsure of how to help. After a bit he began to break up the branches they had drug in for firewood into shorter pieces for easier burning. As he did, he made a pile of the wood near the fire. A sudden thought occurred to Feyt. “This wood won’t last too long if we keep the fire going all the time.” “True,” Aterius admitted. Bent over, he was still fussing with Gairet’s wounds. “Though I am not sure we’re ready to start digging open the entrance yet just to get more wood.” He does not have to say it. We are all thinking the wolves are still out there. Feyt swallowed. Suddenly, Aterius straightened up. Looking up at the cave ceiling, he asked loudly, “Where is the smoke going?” “Up and away,” Tauras was indifferent. “No. It is important where the smoke goes,” insisted the black man. “He’s right! Curse my carelessness,” Muroc began to dig frantically in the large pack. “What’s the matter?” Feyt asked, confused by the sudden concern. “What’s wrong?” “Get your weapons, just in case,” Muroc dug in the pack until he found several small torches. Feyt pulled out his long-knife and looked all about fearfully. I’m not sure what they’re suddenly afraid of, but if they’re worried, so am I. Muroc rushed up to the fire and lit a torch, then stood and held it high. Everyone was looking up, so Feyt did too. Overhead, he could see the smoke streaming over the rough rock ceiling towards the back of the cave. Suddenly understanding, Tauras exclaimed, “By the old gods! You think there’s another way out?” “The smoke’s going somewhere,” Muroc said gravely. “We better find out fast in case the wolves are already in here with us.” In here with us? Oh, by the One God! The safe secure cave now felt like a trap to Feyt. As if he read Feyt’s mind, Muroc spoke loudly, “Stay calm. Just because the smoke can get out, we do not know if that means the wolves can get in. Quick everyone, just to be sure, load up your packs. We must be ready to go if need be.” He looked at Gairet. “And all go together. If there is not another way out, we will all laugh about it and come back here to celebrate with more barley-tea.” Aterius made a face about the tea as he went to get his pack ready. “Tauras,” Muroc turned to the grizzled archer. “Take the torch. Get your bow and quiver and cover the rear of the cave where the smoke is going.” Pulling Tauras close he quietly said, “Try to find a tight place where they can’t get past you, but don’t go too far. We will be with you as soon as we can. Call out if you see any and we will be there fast. I’ll bring your stuff.” Nodding, Tauras grimly headed off with the torch. Muroc looked at Feyt who had been listening. “Load up, I said.” Muroc roared. “Feyt, help Gairet with his pack, you’ll have to carry it and yours.” Feyt nodded and rushed to obey. As he did, he heard Muroc continue, “Aterius, help me get the big pack ready and then your own. Let’s be ready to move out in five minutes.” Feyt knelt with Gairet and rolled up his oilskin and sleep pad. Gairet stuffed what few items still left out back into the bag with his left hand. Gairet looks terrible. He looks awfully pale. I hope he is all right. Seeing Feyt’s gaze, Gairet tried to straighten up and grinned at him. “Hey. Did I ever tell you that I am ambidextrous? Ha! In fact, I’m twice as good a fighter with my left hand as with my right. I just like giving everyone a fair chance.” Leaning towards the boy, he said softer, “Don’t worry Feyt. I’m not nearly dead yet.” “Oh. No. I’m not worried. Just making sure I have everything of yours picked up.” “Thanks, Feyt. I am proud to have you with us, bait or not.” His infectious grin made Feyt grin back. “Hurry. Grab your stuff. We can still beat Aterius and Muroc at packing. I want to rub in how slow they are becoming in their old ages. Ha ha.” Feyt shook his head and rushed to gather his own loose gear. He did not see Gairet’s smile disappear, replaced by a grimace of pain. Feyt was tossing his stuff into his pack when he saw Dokara go to Seelus’s pack and kneel. He placed his good hand on it and held it there for a time. Then he reached into one pocket on the side and pulled something out. He gazed at it before thrusting it into his parka pocket. He stood and stared down at the rucksack. Seeing Feyt, he shrugged and kicked it aside. When he started to walk away, Feyt asked, “Do you want me to carry it for you?” Stopping, Dokara turned his head slightly and said softly, “There’s nothing else in his pack we need. Nothing of Seelus is in it any longer. No, Feyt. I would rather leave his pack out here where he is, than bring it home to our mother and father to grieve over. Thank you, no.” Then he walked on to where the others were busy. It took more than five minutes, more like fifteen, but they were all loaded and ready when Muroc addressed them. “This is probably an exercise in caution. Smoke can escape through some pretty small holes. Stay close though, just in case. Dokara, bring up the rear with a torch. Aterius and I will lead with Feyt and Gairet in the middle. When we catch up with Tauras, he’ll join us and we’ll follow the smoke till we see where it goes.” With that, the party began to move, following the thin trail of smoke back deeper into the winding cavern. The cave wound back and forth going deeper into the mountain. After passing yet another curve in the cave, they saw Tauras’s torch propped up high on a pile of boulders ahead. As they approached it, Tauras rose up suddenly from behind a pile of rock opposite the torch startling Feyt. Muroc never flinched and immediately started to speak with him. I wonder how he knew Tauras was there. He was not surprised at all. Feyt felt his admiration for the old fighter rise even higher. He heard Tauras ask Muroc quietly, “Did you see the wolf tracks back there in the cave?” Muroc nodded and reached up to take down the torch, “Yeah. Looked old though.” Tauras nodded agreement. Turning, Muroc raised the torch high and led the way deeper into the cave. Tauras fell into step with them dropping back to the end of their line. Overhead, Feyt could see the smoke still flowing out ahead of them. They continued on quite a distance, until as they rounded another pile of boulders, the cave opened up wider and the floor straightened out becoming flat and smooth. On the far side of the opening thick white icicles extended from floor to ceiling in a uniform row. On each side, a large circular pillar of ice stood with a thick slab of heavy laying above it. Feyt looked to one side, then the other. Both the sidewalls looked more like the hewn rock of a mighty castle than like rough cave material. He watched the slowly curling smoke waft its way forward and through the slats formed by the icicles. “Amazing!” Feyt jumped. Aterius had spoken. “That looks eerily like a portcullis.” “What’s that?” It popped out of Feyt’s mouth before he even thought to stay quiet. Aterius answered in his best learned-scholar’s voice, “A portcullis is a barred gate used in castles, usually at the main gate or drawbridge. They raise and lower it for protection.” Muroc suddenly lowered his torch and smothered it. “What are you doing?” Tauras exclaimed. “Look. Beyond the icicles.” Muroc pointed. Past the ice, the cave opened up much wider than anywhere they had seen in the cavern before, and a dim light shown from ahead. In the sudden darkness, it seemed to brighten as they stared at it. |