Chapter 33: Promises
The next morning, Fiona and Vincent arrived bright and early. Amy woke me up before seven in the morning.
“Lady Ren, did you want a coffee once you’re dressed?” Amy asked as she helped me into a black pleated maxi dress.
“I’d like three coffees, with cream and as much sugar as the liquid will take.” I said as Amy buttoned me into my dress at the back.
“You want to vibrate through the rocks to the bottom of the catacombs?” She asked.
“I want a chance of staying awake until the point where things fall apart.”
We added a rich green shirt with full length of mutton style sleeves and the same canary yellow sash I had worn before. I picked a plain gold clasp to hold the sash in place. I wouldn’t be taking anything that I would miss if it broke.
We met Fiona and Vincent on the front steps. Fiona wore a pair of black breeches, black Hessian boots, a deep red high neck collar dress shirt. Over that she wore some sort of padded armor. And then over all that she wore a black greatcoat.
Vincent wore fawn-colored breeches and brown riding boots. He wore a similar high neck collared dress shirt with the same padded jacket over that. But his padded armor was in slate gray, as was his greatcoat.
Fiona and I hugged as I limped up with my cane, and I felt rigid plates under the greatcoat.
“Is the greatcoat armored?” I asked.
“Indeed, it is. As is Vincent’s. We are your sword and shield. We prepared for danger.”
“Thank you, Fiona. Thank you, Vincent.
“So, we aren’t going in through your father’s study?” Vincent asked me.
I shook my head, “That’s the route that the conspiracy uses. It’s going to have the highest concentration of enemies. The catacombs are huge. In spring, huge sections can flood. But this late in the year, more of the catacombs are dry. That lets us use other entrances. We’re going in by way of the Wyrdbrunnr.
“The what?” Fiona asked.
“You’ll see when we get there.”
I led them outside the Castle walls. We began walking towards the cliffs that overlooked the bay. We walked across a gentle windswept hill covered with sea grass. This took longer than I would have liked, because I was along. I smoked three of my cigarettes in an attempt to make my body move faster. It helped, but not as much as I would have liked. We did reach our goal however, a massive stone well with a staircase inside leading down into the earth. Beside the hole stood a massive standing stone engraved with a series of runes.
“That says: Wyrdbrunnr, or Well of Fate. Stay close to the wall, sea air will get pulled through the catacombs and create intense updrafts. Kids have died in here by walking too close to the edge of the steps at the wrong time.”
“Is it wise for us to take this route, given your current condition?” Fiona asked.
“This is the safest route for avoiding enemies. I’ll trust you three to have my back if I slip. And I’ll go slow.”
“Ren, I’m not thrilled with this idea,” Amy said.
“Neither am I,” I said, “But our options are as follows. One, we go in through father’s study and take the Hyperboreans head on. Two, we go in through the sea cave entrance, which is the only way they could be getting the ships into the catacombs. Or three, we do this.”
“So, we’re not taking the best route,” Vincent said, “We’re taking the least bad route?”
“Exactly, “I agreed.
We lit lanterns and made our way down the well. I had added a black leather fitted full length jacket. It would keep me warm and protect my clothing from destruction. And as we descended, I leaned against the wall of the well for stability. The jacket would be a total loss after this, I suspected. But I was the weak link here. And so I sacrificed the coat for stability. As I used my cane to brace myself against the wall, I kept seeing a mental image of an updraft capturing me. I watched in my mind’s eye as the updraft tossed me skyward and dropped me back down into darkness.
Twice I slipped on wet and mossy stones, and Vincent or Fiona had to help me. Twice more Vincent grabbed my coat from behind as I began to lose grip on the stones. And once I slipped and toppled into Fiona. Her small frame didn’t waver as all six feet of me crashed into her from behind.
We reached the bottom with everything intact but my ankles. They screamed in pain, but I ignored them.
Before us, a passage stretched and curved further in the darkness.
“Ok,” I said, “We’re through the Wyrdbrunnr. Now we’re entering Gelliwic: The City of the Forest Grove. It’s the seat of the original King of Ys: Brenin Arzhur. This is where the Hyperboreans will have set up. This area has buildings with separate rooms. And more structures have survived down here than you would expect. So be on the alert.”
We made our way through the maze-like Gelliwic, trusting my memories as we went. We heard the occasional murmur of voices, but nothing close enough to worry us. After another twenty minutes of walking, we reached it. A corridor opened up into an enormous cave.
I pointed, “Okay, that open area is Mag Mell. On the other side is the entrance to the lowest level of the catacombs: Cantre'r Gwaelod. That’s where the seer will be.” I pointed.
Ahead of us, between where we stood and Cantre'r Gwaelod was a fully constructed military camp. Tents spread across the Mag Mell. Crates and barrels crowded racks of spears and swords. I began counting Hyperboreans. I stopped when I hit one hundred, and that hadn't come close to all of them.
“You mean it’s the enemy base camp,” Vincent said, “And I’d like to add that there are too many for even Fiona to get through.”
“Indeed. We have no way through that place.” Fiona said.
“We also have no way back, not now,” Amy whispered.
I looked back and saw the lights of several lanterns approaching.
“Douse the lanterns. Hide. Quick!”
I snuffed Amy’s lantern. Fiona doused Vincent’s. And we all scrambled for somewhere to hide. We squeezed into a small crevice behind a pile of crates, one after the other. And, cramped and crushed, we waited. A group of at least twenty Hyperborean soldiers walked past. They were speaking in Borean. They were laughing and their tones of voice suggested that they suspected nothing.
But, instead of continuing on, they stopped and sat upon the crates. There they began to chat and eat. They ate what looked like salted meat, hard cheese, and biscuits. All taken from leather pouches on their hips.
“What is this?” I whispered, “Lunch break?”
Apparently, they took hour-long lunch breaks in Hyperborea. We waited. And we waited. Soldiers arrived and soldiers left. And at no time did the area clear of Hyperboreans. And so, we waited for hours. And then we waited for several more hours. Finally, late in the evening, the area cleared of human traffic.
We looked around, trying to decide if it was safe. And then we heard more voices. Only this time I recognized a voice.
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