Blood of the Red

Chapter 34 - Ingold

Chapter 34 – Ingold

Stone fell in cascades, frozen in translucent sheets. It hung from on high in folded curtains, pearl white. Spires, taller than a man, reached from the floor of the cavern, mottled with unearthly blues and greens. No light had ever shone here. Ingold's flame broke a night of ten thousand years. Answering his will, the fire intensified about his torch. Shadows scurried for cover, hiding in the corners. A magnificent gallery sparkled before them.

A chasm divided the floor. At its narrowest point it spanned eight feet. The sound of rushing water rose from far below. Ingold leapt across without hesitation. The place enthralled him.

"Caverns measureless to man..." his rich tenor rolled out. The cave resonated with his voice. He sent the song rolling out before him as he walked, filling the tunnels with sound. A heavy crash from behind confirmed that Gartus made the jump.

"Quit strangling that cat, bard," Gartus growled.

Ingold's mood proved infectious though and, before the song finished, Gartus's deep baritone boomed out on the chorus. Only the discovery of human remains prevented an encore.

The bones lay piled on a broad ledge. Ingold came face to face with a broken skull as he hauled himself onto the platform - boosted by Gartus from below. He tossed a thighbone down for inspection.

"Teeth marks on it! Something big. Maybe a lion."

Gartus caught the bone and peered at the damaged section. He sniffed it.

"Troll," he said.

"Troll!" Ingold snorted. "You don't get trolls this far south."

"You don't get lions this far north," Gartus countered.

"How can you tell a troll did this?" Ingold asked.

Gartus discarded the bone and climbed up onto the ledge. The drop must have been an impressive waterfall when the river ran the course. He poked his blunt fingers among the other bones.

"I know troll-kill when I see it. I've fought trolls before. The armies of Sark use them as shock-troops."

"So you could handle a few?" Ingold sounded hopeful.

"Trolls make me look small. A troll's arm is like the trunk of a tree, stuffed with boulders for muscles," Gartus said.

Gartus hauled up his fleece and turned his back to Ingold.

"Take a look."

Under bumpy red skin, muscle writhed across corded muscle. Muscle formed the hump that distorted Gartus's back, great cabled ropes of it fed down into his shoulders. Ingold raised his eyebrows. Three ugly scars ran parallel to either side of the spine on the lower back.

"They never healed up entirely," Gartus said, "Pretty much reached the kidneys! It got me in a bear-hug. There's poison under troll talons, most wounds fester within a day. Practically any non-blood who survived with a scratch would lose the limb before the week was out."

"But you beat him, right?" Ingold said.

"Fortunately they burn," Gartus's voice was grim. "They're allergic to axes too."

Ingold led on. The old river course took them further and further beneath the Rock. His earlier good humour left him. It wasn't just the possibility of meeting a troll. Claustrophobia, absent in the wide spaces at the start, nibbled at his heels. Gartus seemed particularly subdued and answered only in grunts when Ingold tried to cheer him. Ingold grew more and more aware of the weight of the Rock above him. He felt trapped.