Chapter Four
“Aha, Queen Gabrysia. We have someone to see you.”
The Drong leader was standing at the entrance to the cave room where Gabrysia was sitting on the floor with her legs drawn up in front of her. She was dirty and her tunic had been torn at the shoulder bearing an expanse of white flesh crudely marred by a large dark bruise. Her legs were also scratched and her breeches torn at the knees.
Gabrysia raised her head, brushing her hair off her forehead in a sweeping movement and confidently faced her captor.
The Drong leader was smiling, his mouth curling at an ugly lopsided angle, and leaning casually against the side wall with another Drong at attention opposite. Sneering he said: “You have a visitor. But he is a visitor who will be staying quite some time.”
Behind him two of his soldiers struggled forward and shoved Fallon into the case.
“Enjoy yourselves,” he said adding. “While you can.” With that he pushed himself away from the wall, gave a short laugh and turning motioned four of his soldiers to remain as guards.
Fallon eased himself into a sitting position from the ground where he had been unceremoniously shoved. Rubbing his elbows he looked at Gabrysia and asked: “Where are we?”
All she knew, she told him, was that they were in a case. She had been unable to see where they brought her, not had she been able to leave the room since her arrival the day before. She remembered being bundled off with a bag over her head and carried for what seemed like hours during which she nearly suffocated from clammy dampness, then again when she felt incredibly hot. Suddenly she had been cool again and when the bag was removed she was in the cave.
“I have no idea where we are,” she said. “How did they get you? Are you alright?”
Fallon nodded. “Fine,” he replied. He then went on to explain how he had come to be captured.
In short halting sentences, a strain for him, he told how he and the others had left the camp that morning and trudged through the jungle to the Dead Place. This explained to Gabrysia the dampness and the heat she felt on her body.
Fallon went on to describe the group’s search in the Dead Place for the tree that was there and then wasn’t. Finally he related, rather embarrassingly, how he had dozed off in the only shade he could find to be caught in the same way Gabrysia had. A bag had been placed over his head and his arms pinned as he was dragged off.
“Not far though,” he added. “Twenty minutes at the most.”
Gabrysia gently massaged the bruise on her shoulder. “How is Jason coping as leader?” she asked.
“He’s not,” answered Fallon. “Nikko is in charge.”
Gabrysia’s eyes narrowed and with her head to one side she said almost inaudibly. “Tell me Fallon. Tell me exactly what happened.”
Again in his crisp speech, and with many interjections from Gabrysia, Fallon outlined how Torpah had given the necklace to Nikko and once he put it around his neck the red marble had shone brightly, just as it did when she wore it. All the children, including Jason surprisingly, had recognized the significance of this and had decided Nikko should be their leader until Gabrysia was returned.
“Good,” she said. “Good.”
Fallon was about to ask her a question when the guards at the cave entrance snapped to attention and another Drong appeared at the opening.
“Get up,” he barked. “You are to come with me.”
He wanted, staring at them menacingly, as they slowly got to their feet, Fallon stretching his legs and rotating his shoulders to relax the tension. Then they moved off to follow the Drong soldier into a long tunnel, their four guards close behind.
The tunnel had been hewn out of the earth and was roughly three meters wide and six meters high. It had been in existence for many years as the ground underfoot had been solidly trodden and it was fitted out for permanence rather than temporary occupation.
Small bows and arrows lined both walls and Gabrysia noted the arrows all had red tips. They were trophies and their position leading from the dungeon where she had been held was clearly not accidental. Gabrysia counted no fewer than twenty of the weapons before she and Fallon and their escort turned the corner. The tunnel led another thirty-five meters or so and again veered left when after forty paces it opened onto a huge cavern.
It was crowded with children, all scruffy looking, all with matted black hair and all standing motionless. They ringed three quarters of the room leaving the end unoccupied except for the Drong leader sitting on a square rock with another soldier standing beside him.
The cavern was dingy but light did penetrate in from above. It appeared to Fallon to come through small holes on the roof except above the Leader where the opening was impressively large allowing a much brighter radiance to shine on him. There had been similar small apertures in the runnel he realized as well as in more tunnels which he now saw were leading off in other directions form the main cavern.
“Welcome to Drong base,” beamed the Leader.
“Welcome indeed,” retorted Gabrysia. “You call this a welcome? Let me tell you now Kerry, what you are doing is very wrong.”
The Drong leader laughed, and perhaps remembering his humiliation in the forest at their last encounter he quickly put his hand to his head making sure his white beret remained firmly planted where it was.
“Wrong?” he said. “It is only wrong because we have you and this other Leafy here. If you had captured one of us it would have been alright. That’s the trouble with you. All you want to do is play silly kids games and do other boring things.”
He looked around the room and repeated “boring” in a long drawn out drawl which made the other Drongs laugh and echo him in a similar but louder drawl.
He went on: “We have you now. You won’t get away, you know. This time you have lost. From now on you do what we say, when we say it. You’re going to do whatever I tell you.”
Gabrysia continued staring at the Leader and again in an even voice she said: “Kerry. Please. Be sensible and stop all this.”
“That’s enough,” he suddenly shouted. “I don’t want to hear any more about being nice.” He went on in an arrogant tone: “And don’t go hoping you are going to be rescued either. Because you won’t be. You see, we know you have your friends out there looking for you. Not very far away actually. But they have no idea where you are. That’s how we grabbed this Leafy here.”
The Leader turned his attention to Fallon standing silently beside Gabrysia. “A great sentry you turned out to be. You fell asleep when you should have been keeping watch. It was so easy for us. All we had to do was wait a few minutes and then when you dozed off and your stupid friend turned his back and started talking to himself we simply grabbed you.”
Laughter rippled around the large room and Fallon could feel the anger and humiliation well up in him. Try as he might to control it he could not help himself when he blurted out “Damn you!”
Fallon’s fists were clenched, his eyes were red with anger and he look as if he was about to allow tears to break from their sockets and gush down his face. He rushed towards the Leader screaming at the top of his voice. His sudden attack stunned the Drongs and it was not until he was almost at the square rock where the Leader sat that three of them grasped his arms and shoulders and overpowered him. They knocked him to the ground and pinned him there as he fought with all his strength to free himself. But he was no match for their combined weight.
“Hold him,” called the Leader. “I’ll show him what happens here to anyone who tries something funny like that,” and he approached where Fallon was being held. “You’re going to get a black eye Leafy,” he threatened.
“Don’t you dare touch him.”
The command from Gabrysia halted the Leader and he stared at her with the crooked expression on his face. “What?” he said. “What did you say?”
“I said, don’t touch him.” she repeated calmly.
“Who do you think you are? You’re not a queen down here. Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Kerry, I ask you again. Please let us go and stop these nasty things you are doing.” She went on: “There is no reason why we can’t all live together happily. We used to before. There is plenty of room for all of us. But if you go on like this you will be sorry.”
“Sorry?” shouted the Leader. “We won’t be sorry. You are the one who will be sorry. We are happy here, and now that we have you we are going to be even happier.”
But he motioned to the three soldiers and they relaxed their hold on Fallon who quickly leapt up, brushed himself down and moved back to Gabrysia’s side. They stood together facing the Leader without saying another word. Gabrysia had tried to persuade him once in the forest before she was captured and once more here. Both times she had been relected and she felt to try again would merely be a waste of time.
For his part Fallon had nothing to add to his uncontrolled outburst. His mind was now concentrated on escape and he was busily absorbing all he could of his surroundings. The cavern probably measured about twenty meters across and it was startling how circular it was. There were no uneven corners and the walls were hardly pocked at all. If he had been told the Drongs had sandpapered the room he would have had a second look to check if it was indeed so.
As with the ground leading from the dungeon the earth floor was packed solid from feet crossing it over a long period of time. Another indication of the fact the cavern was not recently made was the markings on the walls. Fallon had at first thought they were random patches of lighter clay or rock. Now he could make out rough and very faded images. When he studied a few in careful detail he realized they were in fact drawings of some sort. One looked like a bird with huge spread wings and body and an incongruously tiny head. Its beak was also small, but its talons were sharp and long. But the most striking feature was the eyes. They were virtually the bird’s entire head and the painting showed lines radiating from each indicating a brightness as one would when painting the sun. Fallon thought for a moment he could detect a faint pinkish pigment in the eyes but was hard to tell in the gloom and the outline itself had paled with age. The bird worried him somehow.
The illustration next to the bird was far from alarming. It depicted a cat with long fur and what seemed the sleepiest, slowest eyes Fallon had ever seen. The artist had either been very good and something of a humourist, or exceptionally poor and miscast his subject badly. Either way the dull looking feline provided light relief.
The feeling was short-lived however because the third sketch Fallon could make out was the clearest of the three. The outline was sharply defined and there was no mistaking it. It was a large black dog with bulging yellow eyes and giant paws. It was snarling and its tongue, in vivid red, lolled from its jaws.
Fallon’s depression threatened to return but Gabrysia must have senses this and gently brushed his upper arm with a hand. She too had been examining her environment. Not so much the visible trappings as the vibrations emanating from the occupants. Her sadness was caused mainly by the aura of bitterness and fear around her.
While they were many times outnumbered and their wishes were obviously no more than that, she had no doubt there was fear present among the others, fear in large measure. Looking around at the Drongs Gabrysia carefully studied their faces. They were grimy and their eyes were sunken in their sockets, giving the appearance of shadowy holes. As she had noticed on all previous occasions she had confronted the Drongs their hard was entirely disregarded by the children. It was doubtful if any had ever combed it or if they had it was a long time ago and they had forgotten to repeat the chore. On the boys tight caked curls often reached their shoulders, whereas on the girls it generally hung in unintentionally plaited straight lank trails that made them more untidy than unattractive. Their clothes were a disgrace. Gabrysia doubted if there was a single complete tunic in the room, and without exception every pair of breeches had gaping holes in the knees.
The children had no expression. Or more correctly they had a uniform expression. Flat. Any joy and zest that may have been evident in the past had burnt out leaving just an empty shell. It was this loss that saddened Gabrysia so deeply. She had to touch Fallon’s arm as much for her own benefit as for his.
Their examination of the cavern and those in it was cut short by the Drong leader. “Do you want to see the rest of Drong base, Queen Gabrysia?” Before waiting for a reply he added: “I’m sure you would. Come on then, we’ll show you around.”
He instructed all but four dungeon guards and the three who had overpowered Fallon to stay where they were. The seven he picked out were to accompany him on his tour and make certain Gabrysia and Fallon behaved themselves. Each carried a heavy stick ion his hand as well as his bow and arrows strung across his back.
The Leader left his rock chair and walked up to stand in front of Gabrysia and Fallon. To Fallon he said: “We’ll finish our fight later on Leafy.” And then to Gabrysia: “I’ve got a few more surprises in store for you.” With that he smiled awkwardly and strutted off towards one of the tunnels which led off at an angle on the opposite side of the cavern to where the two captives had been held.
The tunnel was much the same as the other, the same width and height and again there were Leaf Children’s bows and arrows mounted on the walls. They were interspersed with more faint pictures which could not be easily identified. The tunnel was long and Gabrysia sensed it sloped slightly down. The further they walked she also seemed to hear murmuring sounds like bubbling brook or perhaps very distant snoring. It was not easy to put a cause to it. It was more of a reminder of a familiar sound than a distinct noise.
After another fifty meters the sound stopped and all she could hear was their footsteps and the heavy breathing of one of the guards. At numerous intervals slightly smaller tunnels branched off to the left and right, but each veered in another direction within a few meters of the entrance and it was not possible to see where they went or if they were simply short dead end appendices.
The main passageway turned sharply to the left and then almost immediately to the right again. The further they walked a brightness at the end got more pronounced until it became obvious they were nearing a large opening.
It was upon them suddenly and Gabrysia and Fallon’s mouths dropped open in amazement at the scene that was before them. They had come to the lip of a massive room, a subterranean cave that must have been eighty meters to the opposite side. The roof was another twenty meters above their heads. The bottom was three times as deep.
Fallon took an instinctive step back and gasped: “My god.” In his wildest dreams he had never imagined such a sight.
The Drong leader smirked. “Neat eh?” Proudly he stepped right up to the edge and casually kicked some loose earth into the abyss. Fallon listened but did not hear it land at the bottom.
There was nothing smooth about this cave. Everywhere Gabrysia and Fallon looked there were sharp jagged edges. Rough pillars climbed out of the bottom, some reaching all the way to the roof, others ending just below or above where they stood. From the ceiling hung precarious stalactites of rock. And even as they watched one dislodged a fragment that went crashing down in a shower of dust and small pebbles.
Though enormous, the two Leaf Children could see every feature quite clearly as there was a lot of light entering from large and small holes in the roof area.
“Fantastic,” said Fallon.
“We could hide here forever and no-one would ever find us,” said the Drong. “It is the perfect place.”
“Where does the light come from?” asked Gabrysia. “How do you reach the entrance? There doesn’t seem to be any way to climb up.”
The Leader shook his finger admonishing her. “Good try Queen. But you won’t fool me that easily. The way into our base is our secret. And it’s going to stay a secret. We are the only ones who know about it. But what I will show you is what is down below us.” He pointed to their left where the ledge ended in an abrupt drop.
Smiling he advised: “After you, Queen Gabrysia.”
Gabrysia and Fallon exchanged glances and it was Fallon who answered. “You’ll have to force us. We won’t go without a fight.”
The Leader’s smile disappeared and he said in a serious tone: “Don’t be stupid. We’re not going to push off. Go and have a look.”
Fallon paused and cautioning Gabrysia to remain where she was he warily approached the end of the ledge. At first he didn’t see anything but then he noticed two steel rods protruding from just under the lip. Fastened to them was a rope ladder that swayed gently as it disappeared beneath him.
“Go on,” said the Drong. “It’s perfectly safe. We’ll be right behind you.” He turned to Gabrysia and with a mock now offered: “Please. You follow your frightened friend.”
Fallon and Gabrysia decided there was nothing for it but to do as they were instructed. They could not stay where they were and it was obvious the Leader and his soldiers were not going to allow them to return down the tunnel.
Fallon lay on his stomach and tugged at the ladder. It came a few inches but jerked to a halt. Clearly it was also fastened at the bottom.
“The rods stupid,” said the Leader. “Pull them out.”
Fallon tried to pull the rods up but they wouldn’t budge. However when he pushed them away from the cliff face they slid out a meter or more and clicked into a locking position. This meant there was space for a person to sit in the ledge and using the rods as handles to ease himself onto the ladder. It was not the ideal means of doing it from a height of sixty meters. But it was better than hanging over the side facing away from the yawning opening and risking slipping.
Fallon moved into a sitting position and very carefully shifted his weight forward onto the rods. They held firm. He then took the strain on his arms and equally carefully and slowly transferred himself to the ladder. It swung back and forth in a right arc, enough the make Fallon’s adrenalin race and his muscles tense. Blood pumped through his veins and his heart pounded in his chest. But the steel rods and the thick rope ladder with its wooden rungs were sturdy and eventually the rocking motion ceased.
Step byh step Fallon descended, followed by Gabrysia who repeated his example when he had lowered himself about five meters. Then the Drongs, led by the Leader, came after them.
Neither Gabrysia nor Fallon took much notice of the view as they climbed down. They concentrated totally on their foot and hand movements. A slip would mean certain death or at the very least severe injury.
By the time they reached the case floor the light through the roof above was almost gone. Night was upon them.