The Khan Ch. 08: Descent Into Darkness

Jun'ai despaired. This was not the way it was supposed to happen. This mission was one disaster after another. It had seemed like such a good idea at first. Flushed with anger, thoughts of vengeance filling their heads, they set out for justice. Now, a month and a half later, they had to face the harsh reality of their situation. They were lost, half a continent from home, their guide dead, their supplies depleted, with no idea how they would complete their mission.

She found solace in thoughts of Hyun. Her daughter would be standing by now. Her tiny hands gripping furniture for support. Her face so open and trusting, like a flower in this brutal world.

She thought of Hakkon. His sculpted chest, his peaceful demeanor. And wondered if she would ever see either of them again.

They spent a week wandering the foot hills of nameless distant mountains. They were close when Jun'ai had been forced to kill their guide. They knew the general direction and they assumed they would know it when they saw it.

They assumed wrong.

They came upon a river. A narrow runoff between rocky slopes, chasing itself toward the lowlands. They followed the circuitous path through the hills to a box canyon.

On the far end of the canyon was a waterfall. There was a rope bridge across the chasm. It was in poor condition. Planks missing. Ropes fraying. But it still connected one ridge to the other. Below them, the floor was lost in mist and spray.

Sudara led them across. They went one by one. The weight of the minotaurs was massive, but the bridge held. That was something.

When they reached the far side, they found a gaping maw in the rock face. It was covered with brush and bracken. They had to ask themselves if this was even the entrance they were searching for. This could be the jackal lair, or it could not. It could be the back route, or it could be home to another tribe. Why were there no guards? Would they even know the king when they found him?

Jun'ai wished she had never come.

They crouched at the lip. None sure what to expect. Jun'ai looked around the group. They each looked to the others, measuring their resolve. Jun'ai lit makeshift torches and passed them around.

And then they descended into darkness.

Jun'ai brought up the rear. Ahead of her, the torches bobbed along. Bright flares of light against the deepening blackness of the underworld.

Before them was a network of narrow tunnels. Fissures in the earth. Jagged walls. Irregular footing. Stalactites. Stalagmites. Smoothed with calcium. Glistening with moisture in the flickering torchlight.

Jun'ai imagined they were walking through the remains of some ancient monster, a leviathan from another age. The bones dried, became stone, and then cracked. And now, millennia later, they navigated those marrow cavities.

As they marched, they splashed through water. Cold and shallow and pooled on the floor in the irregular recesses in the stone.

"How deep are we?" That from Toran.

"Deep enough to fall out the bottom of the earth." From Engir.

Then they came to the pottery. Stacks of it lining the walls. Utilitarian vases held in place by rope mesh. It filled each alcove in the stone. Stacks of it choked the tunnel. They had to move it aside to pass. Massive amounts of it. Of all shapes and sizes. Some painted, some glazed, some raw porcelain, some with writing. Some of it came from far distant lands.

Then the narrow passage opened into a vast underground cavern. Small fires flickering like stars below them.

Sudara's hot breath was in her ear. "What do you see?"

Jun'ai focused her gaze on one point. A fire. It was on a ledge beneath their position. She noticed a handful of jackals sitting around the fire. A spit over the flames. She told him as much.

"Are you sure they are jackals?"

She looked again. Confirmed their canine heads and lopping strides.

"Then we have found them."

They spent some time studying the terrain. The chamber consisted of terraced ledges stepping down and away from the ridge they occupied. There was an opening below their position. The main entrance. They must have entered through a side passage. There was another passage at the opposite end, leading to further chambers. No way for them to access it without passing through the gathered tribe.

Sudara gestured. He led them across the ridge. They crawled. Past the lip of the shelf, a thirty foot drop to the next ledge.

They were now in the heart of jackal territory.

Jun'ai felt her heart slam in her chest. Nerves hummed. Hands shook. Body trembled.

She peered over the edge. A risk, but a calculated one.

The jackals languished. Clearly not expecting an attack this deep in their own lair. Some gnawed bones, some warmed themselves by the fire. One was chewing a smoothed river stone, passing it from one side of his mouth to the other, watching the fire.

Suddenly its ears pricked, head turned in their direction.

Jun'ai froze.

It looked in their direction for a long time, as if it had heard something, or could in some way sense the intruders. But at last it looked away and Jun'ai breathed a sigh.

She hurried after the others.

The ridge cut down and away from the gathering chamber. They passed through a fissure, perhaps opened by some long passed earthquake. Then they were able to stand again.

"Creepy," Jun'ai said.

Engir looked at her and nodded.

Some time later they came to a vast chasm, swimming in blackness, too dark to see the bottom, too deep to know if there even was a bottom. An underground waterfall spilled over the ledge to their left. A spray of mist sent goosebumps across her flesh.

A rope bridge crossed the chasm. Moldy. Frayed.

They crossed one at a time, as before. The bridge swayed. It held.

Then another chamber. Torchlight flickered across the surface of a life size statue, casting the features in stark recess. Some ancient warrior. Armed, armored. The writing on the base was worn beyond recognition. He was human.

Behind him was a brick cairn. Cracked. Moss encrusted.

Past the ancient warrior were more tombs. A dozen that she could see, set into the cave wall. Probably more buried deeper in branching passages. This was a mausoleum. Perhaps tombs from the ancient Knossos Empire. Perhaps older yet. Warrior kings from a forgotten age.

At the far end of the chamber there was one statue apart from the rest. It would have been the tallest except that it lay smashed on the floor. The head and upper torso and right arm lay mostly in one piece. There was a crown on his head. Behind him, the cairn wall had collapsed. The tomb had been smashed by a cave-in.

Jun'ai was curious despite herself. She crouched. Held her torch out.

Her breath caught.

"What?" Sudara came beside her.

Jun'ai reached in, past the rusted armor and dried bones and tatters of cloth and drew a sword.

The blade and handle were immaculately clean. No rust. No scars of any kind. There was a word inscribed on the blade. Kith'kanan. Was that the name of the warrior or the sword?

"A cursed weapon." Sudara stepped away.

"A magic sword," Jun'ai answered.

"Leave it buried," the minotaur said.

"If it's enchanted, it's valuable."

The towering minotaur considered the blade for a long time. At last he said, "I take no responsibility for it." He turned and walked away.

Jun'ai turned to the others, brow raised, seeking advice. They both shrugged. They felt nothing wrong from the sword. Neither did she. Only Sudara.

She made a decision. She slid Kith'kanan through her sword belt right above her saber.

The ancient burial chamber turned out to be a dead end. The collapse had sealed it. Perhaps it never had an exit.

They backtracked to the chasm and the rope bridge.

"Where is their king?" Sudara said. His voice above the roaring of the waterfall.

"I saw another exit from the chamber," Jun'ai said.

"Where?"

"Below the ridge and to the left." She shrugged. Then stopped and considered. Then she spoke again, slower this time. "I don't know how deep the passage is. But if it opens up on this rock face-" She went to the cliff, pointed. "It might be down there."

"The human has better eyes than us. If that's her guess, then I trust it," Engir said.

Sudara looked at Toran. The other minotaur nodded.

They uncoiled a length of rope. Didn't know the distance. Didn't know how much they would need. They used it all.

They tied the rope to one of the bridge's struts and tossed it over the side.

Sudara looked at Jun'ai. "You first."

She grabbed the rope and repelled herself down. She knew the massively powerful minotaurs could easily pull her back up if she didn't find anything. Still, it unnerved her to descend, not knowing what was lay beneath.

When she reached the right depth, she knew the outlet must be close. She repelled off the wall again, this time swinging back and forth, kicking off the wall each time. Her pendulum motions carried her farther and farther out.

And then she saw it.

A ledge not five feet below her. She dropped and landed lightly on her feet.

She scanned the area. The opening was there, as she had guessed, spilling out onto the shelf of rock overlooking the underground river.

The passage behind her was dark. But across the river, on the opposite ledge, was a gathering of jackals. They gathered around a fire. There were low murmurs of conversation smothered by the crash of water.

She tied off the end of the rope so the others would know to tack up stream. Then she tugged on the rope, signaling them to come. Before long they all crouched on the ledge.

They had to leave their torches up top. But the bonfire across the river illuminated the cavern.

Sudara pointed to himself, Engir and Jun'ai and motioned them across. Then he pointed to Toran and then his bow. The other minotaur nodded mute agreement.

Jun'ai drew Kith'kanan. Slipped into the water. Icy cold. Muscles clenched. She trembled. The river was shallow, the current weak, the sound of the waterfall in the near distance drowned what little sound they made.

The three walked across the riverbed. Heads half above the water. Just noses and eyes broke the surface.

A quick draw up the ledge.

There were jackals gathered around the fire. The village elder was speaking. A story. A prayer. She wasn't sure. His voice guttural. His words lost under the pounding of hot blood in her ears. Her vision narrowed. Her nerves hummed in anticipation of the killing to come.

As one, they struck.

The first line of jackals fell, decapitated.

Then. Howls. Screams. And there was a clash of steel on steel.

Beside her, a jackal fell. An arrow through his neck.

Jun'ai found herself facing one of their warriors. He bounced on his toes. Sickle sword darted back and forth. An unpredictable pattern. Fucker wouldn't stand still.

She swung, intending to knock his sword aside. See how he recovered. If maybe that could get her an opening. What happened instead amazed her.

Time slowed. The jackal's movements were sluggish. Jun'ai could easily focus on each detail as it transpired.

Kith'kanan knocked his blade aside. As he was recovering his stance, she brought her sword back, and had plenty of time to stab him through his chest, piercing his heart. She watched blood spurt. Freeze in a graceful arc above him. Run down his chest.

The jackal slid off her blade. Lay twitching on the ground in a pool of blood.

Jun'ai blinked. And the battle continued to rage around her.

Sudara and Engir were in the thick of it, surrounded on all sides by the dogs. They fought bravely.

She noticed another passage past the fire. She hadn't seen it earlier. It was tucked behind a fold in the rock. Now she could see it was wide and partitioned off with strings of beads.

Two more jackals darted forward to engage her.

And Kith'kanan did his thing.

Movements slowed. One swung. She easily ducked and sidestepped the blade. She ran her sword across his chest, opening him up.

The second had two knives. He was close. Already inside her blade's reach. A tricky position.

Through the corner of her eyes, she saw an arrow, it was near, but it was going to miss.

She reached out. Plucked it from the air. And stabbed him in the eye.

She looked down. His knife had slashed her forearm. She dropped Kith'kanan.

And then the battle resumed.

The noise crashed into her. Disorienting after the stillness under the magic. She stumbled backward. Clutched her bleeding arm. It ran through her fingers. Ran down her arm.

She slipped off the ledge. Hit the icy water. It knocked the air from her lungs. She went under. Scrambling. Flailing for purchase before the current carried her away.

A massive hand grabbed her arm. Pain lanced through her. But he pulled her from the water soaking and sopping onto land.

She shook from the pain and the cold.

"Let me take a look at that." It was Engir. He looked at her arm, while she shivered. Then he treated her with a poultice made from sheep urine.

"What happened?"

"We killed the ones here. Sudara is checking the dead."

"And Toran?"

"Covering our backs on the opposite shore. If they heard us in the far chamber, they'll be coming."

She nodded.

Then Engir said. "I did not know humans could be so fast."

She grinned. "We're full of surprises."

Sudara came over. "I don't think he's here."

"Next chamber," Jun'ai said.

Sudara looked to the opening. He nodded. "I would think so."

Then they heard the din of battle. Steel on steel. Yelling. Jackals engaged with Toran on the opposite bank. He lost his bow. His axe swinging like a farmer's scythe.

Sudara ordered Engir across to assist. Then he ordered Jun'ai to come with him. She retrieved Kith'kanan and together they crossed through the strings of beads and entered the next passage.

They hurried. The flames from the bonfire flickering, casting the fractured passage in stark shadows.

A short drag opened to a small chamber. A single torch casting weak light. The ceiling tapered down and away from them. There were goods pilfered from across the world. Tapestries. Silks. Furniture. Chests.

There were three women in the chamber. All topless. All with narrow jackal heads and long hairy legs. They cowered at the sight of the intruders.

A single chair, tipped over on the floor. A jackal, long in the tooth, grey haired, behind it, watching them. He held a crossbow. He looked at them with dull eyes. Watched Sudara's blade. He knew this was the end. That his raids had finally caught up with him. He knew.

Sudara covered the distance and swung. The king fired. The bolt grazed the minotaur's shoulder. A glancing hit.

The king stepped back. The axe fell short.

Sudara moved forward again. The king had nowhere to flee.

Sudara swung.

The king's head rolled. The body dropped to the ground.

It was done.

Then, "How do we know this was our enemy?" Sudara asked.

Jun'ai considered. "Search the room. If we can find something from Spring Wind, then he's probably our guy."

And so they searched. They smashed the chests. Gold. Jewels. Nothing explicitly from their village. They tore down the tapestries. Again, none from their home.

Jun'ai walked across the room to the bed. Concubines scattered at her approach. Then something caught the corner of her eye. She reached out. Grabbed one of the women.

The poor thing struggled in her grip.

Jun'ai was looking at the gold band on her upper arm. She would know it anywhere. It was delicately carved. A dragon and phoenix coiled together. A symbol of male and female coming together forming a whole. It was the bracelet she wore during her marriage to Ariakas.

She slid it off the woman's arm, then released her. "This is our proof." She showed him the treasure. He nodded in understanding.

Their mission completed, they left the concubines and returned to the ledge. To Jun'ai it felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Now they just had to escape here caves with their lives.

Engir and Toran still fought on the opposite shore. Sudara and Jun'ai waded across to join them.

It was a harrowing fray. They fought a staggered retreat. Two held, while two fell back. Then they switched. They moved along the ledge, back toward the rope.

Jun'ai climbed the rope first. She was the fastest even with her wound.

Then Engir. Then Sudara.

By this time the jackals had amassed a few spear and slings. They pelted Sudara as he climbed. The spears missed in the darkness. Some stones connected. No real damage.

It was Toran who had volunteered to go last. To cover his leader. He swung his axe in wide arcs, keeping them at bay. When Sudara was at the top, Toran grabbed the rope, hacked it free, and swung out over the water. And he climbed.

But there was no one to keep the jackals back. They swarmed the ledge. When Toran's pendulum swing carried him back over their position, they hacked at him with axe and blade and sickle. He fell into their midst.

The three survivors retreated back the way they had come. A few jackals scurried up the embankment of stone and attacked them on the ledge, but there was not enough of them. And on the narrow confines of the ledge, their speed counted for nothing.

When the group entered the side passages, it was a fighting retreat.

Eventually they would be overrun. There were just too many of the beasts. At a low choke in the tunnel Sudara struck the ceiling and brought the walls down around them.

The cave in covered their escape and the group hit the plains before the jackals could mount any kind of serious pursuit.