Into the Valley Page 2

  Chapter II

  Aurelian’s head throbbed, and, with eyes still closed, he probed the lump on his forehead, but pain coursed through him at the brush of his fingers.

  “Take it easy,” said a voice.

  He was lying in a bed under a mound of fur blankets, and next to a fire his clothing hung on a rack giving off ghostly tendrils of steam. The fire was in the center of a room made of mortarless stone walls, but above him there was a blue glow, and Aurelian realized there was no ceiling. The juxtaposition of the walls to the faint roof above induced a sense of vertigo causing him to close his eyes until it passed.

  The furniture consisted of a table, several sailor’s chests in various states of disrepair, a few books with ragged spines teetering at the edge of a crudely made shelf, and two chairs. Rising from the chair nearest the fire was a reedy figure, taller than Aurelian although not quite as tall as his minotaur captors. He was dressed in leather pants, shirt, and shoes, and the exposed skin was clover-colored and without a trace of hair except for his fine, white eye brows. His ears were pointed but drooped at their tips. Scales the color of sun-dried dirt emerged from his collar up the side and back of his neck ending in stripes above and below his yellow eyes.

  Aurelian pushed off the furs and swung his feet to the ground, but another wave of dizziness washed over him.

  “I suspected an Akkahellonian would not take such advice,” the green-skinned man said. He smiled revealing teeth like kernels of pearly corn.

  “And what would a Lepidian know of that?”

  Aurelian wobbled for a moment then drooped back onto the bed.

  “If you would give yourself a moment, it would be an easier affair.”

  “Who are you?” Aurelian asked.

  “Dr. Basil Iskander.”

  The Lepidian placed a spidery hand on his shoulder, but Aurelian swiped it away.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  The Lepidian withdrew but smiled as if he were handling a petulant child.

  “I was just going to help you up.”

  “I don’t need help.”

  Aurelian rested his face in his hands and peered at the stranger from between his fingers.

  “You’re a doctor?”

  “Not in quite a while. What’s your name?”

  Aurelian frowned.

  “Address me as Lieutenant Aurelian,” he said. “Are you one of Lord Abraham’s men?”

  The Lepidian chuckled and poured some water for Aurelian before returning to his chair.

  “I’m a prisoner. Just as you are. One of many.”

  “Of Lord Abraham?”

  Dr. Iskander nodded.

  “Why? This can’t be punishment for trespassing.”

  “I am quite sure he has no legal claim on these lands within the Governate. The answer is more intriguing. Immortality.”

  “Even the dragons are not immortal,” Aurelian said.

  “True. Let us call it virtual immortality. Lord Abraham has access to machines able to restore his youth, indefinitely, and so, in effect, he is immortal.”

  “What does this have to do with me?”

  “Patience,” Dr. Iskander said standing up. “Your clothes should be dry by now. Put them on, and I’ll show you something.”

  After dressing in the warmth of the fire Aurelian pushed aside the curtain serving as a door and unveiled an underground valley sawed in half by a black river and lit by moss. It was impossible to determine the length as the far end faded into darkness, but the walls of the cavern housing the valley rose up hundreds of feet on either side of the river. Cottages similar to Dr. Iskander’s own hugged the banks of the river or were wedged between massive columns of limestone. Rows of thick-stalked fungi the height of sunflowers sprouted between the fangs of stone while herds of pink-eyed, rabbit-eared creatures the size of small hogs milled about scattering as people shuffled past.

  “We simply call it the Valley,” Dr. Iskander said, following Aurelian’s gaze across the cavern. “No need for fancy names down here. Now let’s go find you some food, shall we?”

  The residents scrutinized Aurelian as the pair navigated the maze of houses and columns, and not a one had a full head of dark hair.

  “Everyone here gets one meeting with Lord Abraham at the end of which he or she is crammed into his damned machine to emerge decades older a few minutes later. It affects elementalists too,” said Dr. Iskander, turning a thumb to his chest. “Under normal circumstances these stone walls would prove to be no more of an obstacle to me than the snow is to a hot coal, but I have no connection to Triton down here.”

  “That would be a blessing,” Aurelian mumbled.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “It’s no matter.”

  Dr. Iskander eyed his companion until Aurelian filled the silence with another question.

  “But why all of this?”

  “For no other reason but to power the machine. Every person who has arrived here has entered the machine, except for you of course. Lord Abraham, on the other hand, has haunted these caverns for hundreds of years, as near as we can tell, and looks no more older than you. The reason is obvious.”

  Aurelian considered the idea before replying.

  “But why keep you alive? Are you his slaves?”

  Dr. Iskander shook his head.

  “We live in the shadow of his neglect. He expects nothing from us except to reside here. I suspect the device somehow forms a link with us, and Lord Abraham is able to continually syphon our essences.”

  “How is this possible? I have never heard of such a machine.”

  “Come now,” Dr. Iskander said. “I know your people trust neither science nor elementalism, but there is no denying the world is filled with fantastic things that defy standard physics. Do you accept the pegasus and the griffin? What about your own war bats? Or green skinned men who can sustain themselves on the sun’s rays. You accept these as fact.”

  Aurelian scrunched his face as he thought.

  “Could the device have been crafted by the Celestial Lords?”

  “Perhaps,” Dr. Iskander said shrugging off the question. “Does it matter?”

  “I suppose not. How often are people brought here?”

  “It’s been three years since we’ve seen a new face,” said Dr. Iskander.

  “Three years. That would explain the staring.”

  “That and your obvious nationality, but don’t mind them. There are still some who can recall the last war. Nevertheless, all good people and all victims of the same crime, which was nothing.”

  They had stopped at the edge of a fire where three biddies muddled about turning spits with pieces of cut up meat and mushrooms. Aurelian remembered his appetite once he caught the smell of the cooking meat and took the wooden plate one of the women handed him.

  “It usually takes people a while to get used to cave rabbit,” Dr. Iskander said watching Aurelian shovel each piece of meat and vegetables into his mouth before the previous one had been swallowed.

  “Food for nourishment. Nourishment for strength,” Aurelian mumbled.

  Dr. Iskander raised an eyebrow and smiled, but the soldier did not notice.

  “Where do you get the food?” asked Aurelian.

  “The meat and the mushrooms we grow, but Lord Abraham has a vested interest in our survival so every now and then he delivers crates of food. Probably left over plunder.”

  Dr. Iskander ate, stealing glances at his companion while Aurelian set aside his empty plate and wiped his fingers across his pants.

  “How long have you been here?” he asked.

  “What year is it?”

  “513.”

  “By the Akkahellonian calendar, which would be what?,” Dr. Iskander muttered to himself, placing a twig of a finger across his lips. “1192? Could that be right? That would mean I have been here forty-one years. Forty-one years.”

  He whistled then considered Aurelian for a moment.

>   “And what of you? How did you come to wash up on the bank of the Black River like a piece of flotsam?”

  Aurelian hesitated then after some thought told his story but omitted the cause of his flight from Akkahellonia, and although he sensed the Lepidian’s curiosity, Dr. Iskander did not ask any further questions. They had left the fire and neared the wall of the valley, which loomed above them. Set into the face were a pair of copper doors mounted flush to the wall.

  “Where do those lead?” Aurelian asked. “Is that the way out?”

  “Theoretically.”

  Aurelian studied the double doors, but could find no means of opening them. There was not even enough space between metal and wall to pry them open had he the proper tools.

  “Once on this side of the doors, no one has ever been on the other side,” Dr. Iskander said after Aurelian had given up with his investigation.

  “Has anyone ever escaped?”

  “There are only three ways out. The first is the river, which is where we send our dead and refuse. Perhaps it leads out, but there is no knowing when or where. In all likelihood, one would freeze before surfacing. The second exit are these doors, and, as you have just seen for yourself, they are sealed tight. The only time they open is to bring a new prisoner into the valley or to bring us the goods and food they do not want.”

  “Have you tried overpowering the guards?”

  “Look about you,” Dr. Iskander said. “These people are old with no weapons and few people have any kind of martial training.”

  “If what you tell me is true about this machine, none of you are truly as old as you seem. You have merely resigned yourself to your condition.”

  The Lepidian considered the statement until impatience led Aurelian to ask, “And what of the last means?”

  “There is a balcony on the far side that overlooks the valley,” Dr. Iskander said. “This is where Lord Abraham surveys his domain.”

  On the opposite bank high up the wall was an ornate balcony just visible in the dusk of the cavern.

  “Is it ever guarded?”

  “It is not, but don’t get your hopes up.Yes, this seems the likeliest means to escape, but you can see how high it is, and the wall is sheer, just as this one. The ground is rockier as well, which is why we live on this side.”

  Aurelian scanned the wall where they stood and said, “There are hand and foot holds here, so the same should be true over there.”

  Dr. Iskander admired the single-mindedness of the Akkahellonian. Everything about the man before him exuded confidence, and his thick shoulders and broad back affirmed the young lieutenant was capable of scaling the wall.

  The pair were absorbed in thought when a clang from the other side of the doors startled them. The doors hissed and swung inwards as four minotaur led by Turgor entered the valley.

  “Look boys, the green-skin’s found a peculiar fish in these inky waters,” Turgor said, to which the others snickered and bared their broad teeth. “Lord Abraham sent us to see if your body had washed up on the rocks, but I never thought you’d be alive. His lordship will be quite happy.”

  The minotaur encircled them. Aurelian eyed the open exit unsure if the odds would ever be in his favor and reacted. He aimed a punch at Turgor’s chin with the intent of following with a hook to the ribs, but the bull-man had been goading him and anticipated the strike. Turgor sidestepped the punch then blocked the body blow with the keratin covering his outer arm. With a snap of his neck, Turgor drove the bony plate between his horns into the human’s forehead causing Aurelian to stagger backwards, knees buckling, and collapse in a heap.