A Hero's throne

toward her, gave a wink, licked its nose, and then turned and continued carrying her away from the sunset.

V

Alex and Ecgbryt were profoundly disheartened. They had visited no less than four sleeping chambers, only to find them raided and their occupants slaughtered. They did not talk to each other-they had nothing to say. Their spirits were as low as the short tunnels they had to crouch through and as smothering as the narrow cave walls around them. They felt smothered. Alex took to openly swearing at every bump and jolt that a rocky outcrop or low ceiling gave him. He felt that the tunnels themselves were outrightly hostile, reaching out and hitting him when opportunity arose.

They were utterly soaked. Water dripped from the walls when it didn’t cascade around them. At times they had to wade, hipdeep, along freezing streams, and it was absolutely impossible to get dry afterward. There was nowhere to rest that wasn’t slippery with slime. Alex decided he was going to raise serious objections to continuing their quest after the next stop on their map, which was bound to be another massacre scene.

They came to a staircase that curved upward. They mounted its steps and Alex gratefully found each one to be drier than the last. Perhaps he could convince Ecgbryt to stay and have a proper night’s sleep this time.

The stairs brightened as they turned. The walls transitioned from rough-hewn stone into smooth slabs, lit by the ambient glow of daylight. The breeze brought a smell to their nostrils that surprised them-the salty, moist scent of the sea-and their ears soon discerned the rhythmic rise and fall of waves. The sound was nourishment to Alex’s soul and he felt his pulse quicken. An eagerness leapt into his breast founded on. . he didn’t know exactly what.

They passed a window, which blinded them both. Ecgbryt clapped a hand full over his eyes as he passed it. Alex was forced to look away but then turned back when his eyes had adjusted. It was a typically overcast day by the ocean and not particularly bright. The water was all that was visible apart from a few jagged rocks it washed against.

Wiping the tears caused by the stinging light from his eyes, he followed Ecgbryt upward. They passed other windows, which allowed more views of the ocean surrounding them, but so far they had no indication of what was inside the tower they were circling.

Then they came to an archway that a stiff wind blew through, creating a low, hollow whistle. From one side of it, they could look down into a chamber that fell beneath them, nearly as far as they had climbed-roughly fifteen metres, Alex judged. Stairs led down, curving against the wall, and above them, the tower appeared to be open at the top since a pale silver disc of sky was visible. The walls were as straight and flat as the day they were carved, but slits and strangely angled windows were placed at odd points in the tower that served to create some sort of complex wind tunnel.

The entryway into the chamber looked down on the sleepers. There were eight of them lying upon the customary plinths at the bottom of the tower.

“They look to be unharmed,” Alex said in wonder. “It’s hard to say exactly, but they look. . fine.”

“There, see,” Ecgbryt said, pointing to the base of the steps. “Bodies. Bones, some weaponry. They are yfelgopes!” he exclaimed, excitement instantly mounting in his voice. “There must be a hundred of them. This is where their murderous path ended!”

Alex peered around Ecgbryt’s shoulder. What he first thought was rocky debris was in fact a pile of bodies, reminiscent of pictures of holocaust camps.

He swallowed and started into the chamber, but Ecgbryt held him back.

“Hold. They may have perished by some sort of trap,” Ecgbryt said. “I don’t see how the yfelgopes would be so foolish as to awaken the knights, even accidentally.”

They stood there for a moment, pondering their next step.

“Where is the horn?” asked Ecgbryt.

“I don’t see it. Do they need it?”

“Horns wake the sleepers.”

“Horns. . oh, aye. I think I have it!” Alex said and pushed past the large knight.

“Be careful as you-” Ecgbryt started to warn him.

“Don’t worry, I think I’ve sussed it, look-”

Alex took one step forward and felt the strangest sensation. The air blowing past him suddenly whirled around and twisted upward. He was in the middle of a wind dervish. Just standing there had affected the flow of air in the tunnel in the most ingenious fashion and started it in a new course up the tower. A low, reedy hum was first heard, and then other notes rising in a cacophonous chord that threatened to deafen them all.

“It’s the horn!” Alex shouted in delight, looking upward again at the holes in the wall that the wind blew against. “The tower itself is the horn! That’s why the knights awakened! The yfelgopes did it just by entering the room!”

The noise tapered off and Alex turned to continue his descent down the stairs. Then he leapt back in surprise. The knights had already awakened and were mounting the stairs toward him, weapons drawn and ready.

“Ecgbryt, do you want to talk to them?”

“Knights of Ennor,” Ecgbryt called out from the top of the staircase. “Rise up now to fulfill your secret oath and complete your sacred duty. A brother knight calls to you-the time has come to awake.”

The knights looked at each other and then at the strange pair standing at the entrance to the tower.

“Is it time?” the knight at the front asked. “Truly, is it time?”

“It’s past time,” Alex said. “Come on, grab your gear. We’re offski.”

CHAPTER SIX

A Show of Good Faith

I

“We call ourselves the leafleas. That means ‘The Doubtful.’ My name is Argument.”

Daniel blinked. “Argument?”

“I am told it is my dominant trait.”

“You would find it hard to believe how long it took us to convince him of that fact,” the leafleas behind him said.

Daniel swayed. His body was weighed down by exhaustion, but he could feel his heart beating quickly. The left side of his body was throbbing, issuing waves of heat at every swell. He looked at the band of yfelgopes in front of him; they appeared as ugly and hostile as any other group of the creatures. Could he trust them? Was it possible he was so tired that he was delirious? Could he even trust himself?

He would have to trust his instincts. And right now they were. . vague. He was getting an impression, but it was hard to fit into words. The yfelgopes-or the leafleas, as they called themselves-were. .

“Sticky,” he said to himself.

“What?” asked the yfelgop in front of him.

“You look sticky-I think you’ll stick,” Daniel said decisively. They were leading him through the cells and up and around a spiralling back entrance. The ground had a tendency to lurch beneath him like the deck of a ship. He wished he still had his jacket and that it wasn’t back in the Langtorr’s foyer.

“You’re the right length,” Daniel said, trying to clarify. That might be misunderstood, he reflected, but. . well,