Chapter 7

'What I want to know is...?'

'Go on,' prompted Gwidian.

'Well, if the elden were such a clean living people, rejoicing in the sun
and greenery...'

'Yes.'

'Then why on earth did they bury all their treasures in grotty, dirty
little holes in the ground?'

Gwidian looked at the cave entrance and shrugged his shoulders.

'So other eldsies would not go looking for them,' chortled Cretin.

Morgain raised an eyebrow at Cretin. 'There is not only elden around.'

'Too true,' confirmed Gwidian.

'Oh well!  Into the dragons lair,' said Morgain.  Then he began to whistle
and walk towards the hill side cavern.

Gwidian put his hands on his hips and bit his bottom lip. 'I think I know
why they call this place the 'Crying Caves',' he said looking around at the
barren downs which surrounded them. 'I think I would cry if I lived here.'

No one was listening.

Morgain strutted into the large cave opening.  A few moments later he
strutted out again.

'Well?' questioned Gwidian.

'I cannot see a damned thing in there.'

The others walked to the entrance.  It was indeed dark.

Morgain took a step backwards. 'This calls for drastic action -send for
fire monster,' he said in a loud voice.

Cretin put his head to one side and Gwidian eyed Morgain with a sort of
'wait for it' look.

Morgain pointed at Cretin. 'Our hero.' Then he walked over to Cretins side
and slapped him on the back.  Cretins back felt rough and hard, but as he
let his hand dwell a few moments the feeling changed to soft and slimy.  He
retracted his hand and shook it.

Gwidian turned to Cretin. 'Go on then.'

Cretin shuffled into the entrance and rubbed the fingers of his right hand
against the palm of his left.  A brilliant white flame began to dance
there, lighting their surroundings.  Cretin walked forward, his hand cupped
to hold the flame.  The brothers followed.

They walked down long corridors turning right and left at random, sometimes
the passageways sloped up and sometimes they sloped down.  They heard
rustling and creaking sounds but they never saw a living soul. Occasionally
the passageways would open up into large rooms like caverns but never was
there a sign of human habitation.  In places they found stalagmites and
stalactites, which glittered in the brilliance of Cretins light and at one
point they found themselves wading ankle deep in running water. Eventually
Cretin came to a halt.  He looked at the flame in his hand which had begun
to visibly dim.

'Cannot walk in circles forever,' said Cretin.

'How did you find the sword in Goronaks kingdom?' queried Morgain.

'Jorm seemed to know where he was going,' replied Gwidian.

The flame died and they stood in absolute darkness.

'Has anyone any bright suggestions?' said Morgain, snickering.

'I hope Jorms map was correct,' said Gwidian.

A shrill laugh echoed down the hallways.  The hairs on the back of the
brothers necks stood on end.

'What was that?' said Morgain in an exasperated voice.

'It sounded like the shade we met on our way,' said Gwidian.

Morgain frowned.

'Sound comes in the earsies,' commented Cretin. 'Not a wraith.'

The laughter died, but as it did so a distant whistling sound reached their
ears; they all listened intently.  The whistle rose in pitch and
intensity.  A tinge of fear crossed the brothers brows, though the darkness
hid them.

'It sounds to be getting closer,' said Gwidian.

Morgain looked around, trying to force his eyes to see, but it was hopeless.
Louder grew the sound.  It seemed as if something was speeding towards them
from the direction they had been walking.

'GET DOWN,' cried Gwidian as he spotted what seemed to be a ball of fire,
hurtling down the passageway.

They both crouched and covered their heads.  The sound was on top of them.
It screamed passed their ears and on into the distance.

Morgain lifted his head. 'What was that?'

'A wall of light,' said Cretin. 'Look.'

The brothers looked this way and that.  The cavern was filled with light.
Naturally it took a moment to sink home.

'Listen,' said Cretin. 'I hear the sound again.'

This time it was coming from the opposite direction.

Morgain caught a glimpse of something speeding from the opposite direction.
'DOWN,' he shouted, but it was too late.

'Darkness,' said Gwidian in an astonished voice.

Like the light, the darkness had sped down the passage, as if it was a
solid object.  It had stopped three paces from them. Beyond that point they
could see nothing.

'Do you think someone is trying to say something,' said Gwidian.

'Follow the light,' said Morgain.

This time their path was clearly defined.  Where they were not expected to
tread lay in total darkness.  Where they should tread was brightly lit.
They followed the light apprehensively, until the faint sounds of someone
mumbling came to their ears.

'One more bend,' said Morgain.

They turned the next corner to be confronted by a door.  Morgain lifted his
hand to knock.

'Are you being serious?' said Gwidian.

'Why not?' Morgain knocked.

The door creaked open.

'Come in,' said a croaky old voice.

The brothers and Cretin found themselves peering into what could have been
described as a room.  In the centre of the floor was an old hag, stirring
what appeared to be a giant cooking pot, which sat upon a metal rig above a
fire.

'Come in... Come in,' she croaked.

They walked inwards staring at the strange writing and symbols on the
wall.  There were pots of strange substances on shelves of ageing wood.
Cobwebs seemed to hang everywhere.

The hag looked up from her pot. Slant eyes glancing over a crooked nose
which sat atop a mean mouth and a pointed chin.

'Welcome to the witches hovel,' she chuckled.

'A which,' said Morgain, 'which what?'

'What where,' said Gwidian.

'A witch here,' said Cretin.

'Which what, where?' said Morgain.

'Not which what,' said Cretin. 'She is a witch. Where - you are looking at
her. A wizardess.' He eyed the brothers suspiciously.

'In that case, should not we be elsewhere?' said Morgain. 'Have we not had
enough of ladies with dark powers.'

'Not if we want the shieldy,' said Cretin.

'You are a sweet one,' croaked the witch, looking at Cretin.

'Nice lady,' chortled Cretin, in what might have been an embarrassed
voice... to someone with imagination.

'You require the shield - my shield - never,' said the witch, popping what
looked to be a couple of live frogs in the pot.

'What would you want with a shield?' queried Morgain. 'Surely a witch does
not need such things?'

The witch frowned. 'I did not always look this way,' she said. 'I was an
attractive lady once. Had I possessed the shield when that 'she wraith'
came calling, I might still be an attractive lady.'

'A shade,' said Gwidian.

'Helian the hellish... Heelian the evil.'

'Hellian,' chortled Cretin. 'That is how you say it.'

'The one we met back down the way?' queried Gwidian, directing his question
at Cretin.

'It wore the brown sash of Malice,' chortled Cretin.

'I was more beautiful than her... it; when she was made of flesh and blood.
If only I had kept the shield. I should never have let it go.'

'Problems,' muttered Morgain.

The witch tipped a jar of writhing insects into the pot. 'Anyone for
supper?' she said.

'Mmmm, creepy crawlies,' said Cretin.

'More problems,' muttered Gwidian.

'Er... we are not really hungry,' said Morgain, 'but thankyou.'

'Cretins hungry,' said Cretin.

'Cretin... what a charming name,' said the witch. She took two bowls from a
shelf and with a large spoon she filled them with the contents of the pot.

'We must talk of the shield,' said Gwidian.

The witch passed a bowl to Cretin and sat upon a stool with her own bowl.

Morgain peered over Cretins shoulder to see exactly what he was eating. The
broth or whatever it may have been was a deep green. It seemed to move
around the bowl of its own volition.

'Seat yourself,' said the witch, looking at the brothers and pointing to a
bench.

The brothers did as they were bid.

'Tell me,' began Morgain. 'If you are a wizardess and you have your
cauldron and spell books, why can't you return your own beauty?'

The witch replied with a question of her own, 'Who are you youngsters to
come here and ask such questions?'

'I am Gwidian and this is my brother Morgain. We are on a quest to destroy
these wraiths.'

The witch chuckled. 'You have high hopes. If Andora cannot destroy just one
wraith, what chance have two children of destroying seven.'

Gwidians face fell. 'I am not a child,' he growled. 'Nor for that matter
are there seven wraiths.'

'True,' slurped Cretin. 'There are only six.'

'Six,' said Andora.

'Mandonna fell to the blade of Raimar. Confined to the walls of Greyfar
now - will fear the light,' said Cretin.

'The castle of shadows,' mused Andora. 'A gateway to the darkworld. And of
Raimar?'

'You have the shield again,' mumbled Morgain.

'Fell in battle did he?' said Andora. 'He slew the wrong one, Mandonna was
a nobody.'

'You did not answer my question,' said Morgain in a coarse voice.

'Question... Oh my book of spells. I draw on the etherworld for my powers.
Helian is part of that world - the dark side. Her presence lingers on.'
Andora put down the bowl and took a golden key from her tatty robes. 'Would
you like to see the shield?' Her eyes were laughing.

Morgain nodded, casting an eye around for Helian.

Andora stood and walked over to one of two chests stood by the wall.

Morgain and Gwidian watched closely. Cretin was watching wisps of smoke
drifting up from the fire, around the pot and through a circular opening in
the roof.

The key turned in the lock and she lifted the lid. Gwidians eyes had almost
left his head, trying to see what was inside. Firstly Andora took out some
indescribable oddments, then she reached for the shield.

All eyes fell on her as she lifted the shield from the chest. It glittered
like a mirror, except for the strange crest, moulded on its surface and a
horizontal slit above the crest.

'All mine,' she said. 'Nothing is going to take it away again.'

'Surely you would wish to gain your good looks again,' said Gwidian. 'The
only way to do that is to give us the shield so we may bring Helians
downfall.'

Andora snickered.

'I doubt if she had any good looks,' mumbled Morgain.

'We have been deceived before,' whispered Gwidian.

'My good looks,' said Andora.

'It must be lonely hiding down here,' said Morgain.

'Lonely, I have friends down here,' she laughed. 'The more the merrier.'
She pointed a finger at the door and it slammed shut.

Morgain winced. 'We really must be going,' he said in an uncomfortable
voice.

'But it is such fun being here,' chuckled Andora.

Morgain tried to stand, but he felt like he had ten times his own weight on
his shoulders.

'Cretin,' said Morgain. 'It seems we are being delayed.'

'Nice place,' said Cretin. 'Cretin feels good.'

Morgains eyes fell to the broth Cretin had been eating.

Andora began to replace the shield in its chest.

Gwidian stood. Andora swung around to face him. 'Not having any ideas are
we?' She held out her left hand flat and motioned him as if to rise. His
feet began to lift from the floor. Amazement crossed his face as his whole
form rose a pace above the floor.

'Now you stay there,' she chuckled, then she turned her back and began
closing the chest lid. 'Did you ever wonder what else I put in my pot?'

Gwidian shook his head and reached slowly for his dagger.

'I cut bits of people off,' she giggled and turned the key in the chest
lock. 'Now are you not interested which bits?' she said, turning firstly to
face Morgain, then Gwidian.

Gwidian had heard enough. He unsheathed his dagger and spun it in the air
to catch it by the blade. He hurled it with all the force he could muster
at the witch.

The blade slammed firmly into witches chest. Gwidian instantly fell to the
ground in a heap.

Andora looked astonished. 'ATTACK ME, WOULD YOU?' she screamed, pulling the
dagger from between her ribs with no apparent discomfort.

Morgain felt the weight lift from his shoulders. He watched as the witch
wafted her hands -  as if beckoning - invisibly dragging Gwidian across the
floor. He drew a small concealed dagger and made a run at Andora.

She switched her attention and with one hand, palm out held, she stopped
him in his tracks. 'Another dagger for Andora. See how you like to bite on
a cold blade.'

It was like a pair of strong hands clasping Morgains arms. The dagger
swivelled around to face him and the blade began to draw close to his
mouth. He was forced backwards until his back hit the cool wall. The blade
drew closer. Every muscle in his arms ached trying to restrain the force
which pushed the dagger closer. He opened his mouth and bit on the blade,
though it slithered between his teeth.

Gwidian gathered himself together. Andoras attention to him had lapsed. He
drew his sword silently and lunged at Andoras back. The blade swept into
her shoulder blades - not once - not twice, but time and time again. He
seemed hysterical. 'Die you old hag,' he shouted, 'DIE, DIE, DIE.'

Morgain watched as his arms again came under his own control. He watched as
his brother systematically hacked the witch to pieces. 'Enough brother. She
is dead.'

Gwidian looked up at Morgain and slowly the madness in his eyes departed.

'We have to get the shield and get out of here. Get the key.' said Morgain
hurriedly.

As Gwidian sheathed his sword and searched the remains of Andora, Morgain
sprang to the door. It was securely shut. The door had no lock and Morgain
was not sure why he could not open it. He threw his weight against it, but
he might as well have thrown it against a stone wall.

'I have the key,' said Gwidian. He quickly opened the chest and withdrew
the shield. He turned to face Morgain.

Morgain shook his head. 'We are trapped. The door is closed; there is no
way out.'

'Smoke goes up the flue,' said Cretin with an incredibly silly look on his
face.

'Stupid animal,' rasped Gwidian.

'Calm down brother, I think he is not quite with us; the witch must have
given him a potion in that... broth. Besides he has a point.' Morgain
looked up at the roof. 'That hole must lead somewhere.'

Gwidian also turned his eyes to the roof.

'Are you alright?' said Morgain.

Gwidian looked around at the mess. He breathed deeply, then said, 'I am
now.'

Morgain smiled. 'Let us put the fire out and stack some of this rubbish.
The roof is quite a height.'

They doused the fire then stacked what they could find until they could
enter the roof chamber.

'Come on, Cretin. We are leaving,' said Morgain.

Cretin rose and began slopping about in the remains of Andora as if he was
searching for something.

'What is the problem,' asked Morgain.
'Nice witchy,' said Cretin. 'Cretin would like to take some of her with
him.'

Morgain shook his head.

                                    *

It was a long time before they exited the cave system. They were filthy,
tired and Gwidian was covered in clotted blood; it was perhaps a blessing
that the skies had opened and rain fell heavily.

Morgain put his fingers to his mouth and whistled. They heard the distant
sounds of hoofbeats.

Gwidian watched their horses canter up the hill, then he turned his eyes to
the grey skies. 'Do we move on.'

'Shortly,' replied Morgain. 'Firstly we rest.' He glanced at Cretin who
appeared to be back to his old self. 'Keep an eye out,' he said.

Despite the appalling conditions, they slept.
