The entrance to the hidden path was much like a tunnel dug for a mine, it was narrow but straight and led along for many miles with no turns and no side tunnels. It did not slope upward or downward but merely continued along uninterrupted. The floor was even and the walls were barren rock illuminated by the men’s torches.
They continued this way silently single file for many hours late into the night. Although it was night and the men grew weary they did not know the hour for all was night within the underworld path. Finally when they were very tired Lord Andras and Druis stopped them and instructed the men to lay down and sleep for a time. The torches were extinguished and the men wrapped themselves in their cloaks on the stone floor. They were surrounded with stifling darkness and the only sound was their snoring. They took turns keeping watch although there was nothing to see for each watchman and the darkness was so complete and so still that the men slept fitfully.
Around midnight one of the men woke up Sir Rodrick for his turn to keep watch. He sat looking out into the complete darkness. His back was to the cavern wall and to his right and left the tunnel stretched on with no light and no breath fresh air. It was stifling and he wanted to relight a torch to chase away his fears but Lord Andras had instructed him not to waste the pitch of the torches. For the rest of the night he sat there feeling alone and afraid with the entire weight of the mountain pressing down upon him from above. He felt as if he were buried alive and put prematurely into his grave. I cannot relay to you the horrors poor Rodrick experienced that night, I can only say it is the feeling one might get when you awaken in the night far from home and all alone.
Finally Lord Andras awoke and roused the rest of the party. They did not know the time or whether it was day or night but time no longer mattered in the complete darkness. They relit the torches which brought some cheer to poor Rodricks frayed nerves. The men packed up their few belongings and continued on their silent journey through the darkness.
After some time they saw a faint glow ahead in the tunnel that grew brighter as they approached it. “Courage men,” said Druis, “for we approach the true entrance to the underworld, all this time we have merely been at the threshold and now we will enter the main house.”
As they traveled the light formed into a small rectangle ahead of them. At first it was far away and unrecognizable but finally it became clear that it was coming through the window of a doorway a long way off. The light grew brighter and was blinding to their eyes which were now accustomed to the torchlight. Some of the men thought it might be the exit and a way back outside and their hearts were glad to be coming to the end of the tunnel. But it was not so. Finally they drew near and saw that the light was the slats of a barred window in a heavy metal door, like that of a prison cell.
The men all huddled at the door looking around one another blinking in the light and trying to see what was on the other side. Lord Andras and Druis at the head of the line reached out and tried the doorknob, only to find it locked.
As their eyes adjusted they saw that it was not sunlight they saw on the other side but an unearthly greenish glow that seemed to emit from the walls rather than any discernible source. On the other side of the door was a medium sized room, like that of a tavern, with a large cauldron in the center of it bubbling over a hearth and three figures around it. To their astonishment the men recognized that they were three women sitting in rocking chairs and knitting.
The first one was a beautiful maiden, the second a middle aged mother, and the third an old crone. The maiden held the ball of yarn, the mother sat in the middle knitting some elaborate pattern, and the crone sat on the end with a large pair of shears trimming the ends of string on whatever it was they were making. The women chatted with each other amicably as the men watched.
“There is a group of men at the door.” The maiden said.
“They harbor great ambitions and they wish to come in.” Said the mother.
“They have come too early.” Said the crone. “We will not let them in.”
“But look how handsome their leader is!” Said the maiden, “Surely we can spare a few moments to entertain him.”
“See how wise their guide is,” said the mother, “Surely we can let him in, he is old and his time is near anyhow.”
The crone looked at the other two women and then spied Sir Rodrick through the doorway, “What about that handsome youth?” She said, “Perhaps his time will come early?”
“You will let us all in or none of us!” Shouted Lord Andras in a commanding voice from the doorway. “You will not separate us. I am the son of the Emperor and I demand that you let us in. Whether it is our time or not!”
“Ah what is this?” Said the crone to the other women, “He is the son of the emperor and he demands to be let in. Of all the people to come to our doorstep I never thought I would see the son of the emperor.”
“Lets let him in,” said the maiden, “He is so fair and I wish to entertain him, we never get to entertain someone like him.”
“Do you suppose he thinks he can get around us?” Said the mother? “No one can get around us? Not even the son of the emperor. I think I would rather let in the youth and leave the Lord on the doorstep.”
“I like that idea!” Said the crone. Let us entertain the youth and leave the Lord outside on the doorstep to watch.”
The women went on like this for some time arguing about what to do with the men. Meanwhile Druis whispered to Lord Andras and the men, “Do not let them trick you. They look like women but they are not mortals, they are old and cruel witches. Whatever you do, do not let them beguile us, our company must go through the path together. If even one of us strays the whole quest may be lost.”
Finally the women came to a resolution, “We will let you in but you must agree to stay and sup with us. It’s not often we get visitors down here.” Said the crone.
“Shall we agree to this?” Lord Andras asked Druis.
“We have no choice.” Druis replied, “This is the only way forward.
Lord Andras reluctantly agreed. The maiden came over and unlocked the door and let the men into the strange glowing chamber. Seemingly out of thin air a long table and benches appeared and the men sat down with the three unearthly witches. The maiden produced earthen bowls and scooped big helpings from the cauldron and placed them before each of the men.
All the while this was happening Druis eyed the end of the room where a passage was visible out of the room and into the cavern beyond. He nudged Lord Druis and indicated the passageway. “Do not lose sight of our goal,” he said.
The men began to eat, reluctantly at first but then with greater appetite when they tasted the delicious stew that was served. They were silent but soon found they were munching away sopping up the stew with crusts of bread and slurping down the remains. The mother served them second and third portions and even Druis asked for more. The maiden went around the table refilling wine goblets, smiling and flirting with the men who were now in high spirits.
When all the men were eating happily the crone began to tell a story, “Long ago a mighty serpent lived in the sea to the west. It had many children and it ruled over the waters. All men paid it homage and brought it treasures from the ends of the earth. One day a wicked knight tried to slay the serpent, but he did not prevail and was cast down. The serpent, being merciful, allowed the knight to live and asked instead for a peace alliance with the Knight. The serpent had a beautiful daughter who was betrothed to the knight and when they were married all the world was united once again. No one ever challenged the serpent again and all paid it homage, even the knight and his people.”
The men listened to the story dreamily, and as they ate they seemed to forget where they were. Even Lord Andras took his eyes off the passageway out and instead looked into the eyes of the maiden.
“Who, pray tell, is the knight in this story?” Lord Andras asked the crone. “And who is the beautiful daughter?”
All of the men were looking now at the maiden or the mother but listening to the crone. Some of them were even hoping they were the knight in the story. Sir Rodrick imagined himself as the knight betrothed to a beautiful maiden. Eckbert imagined a world united where no dragon threatened the kingdom and he could once again be a castle guard in a peaceful kingdom.
“Don’t you know?” Asked the crone. “Why you, Lord Andras, are the knight and are betrothed to the beautiful daughter.” The crone nudged the maiden toward Lord Andras who embraced her. All the men were watching their eyes shining expectant for the pair to kiss. Even Druis watched taking a long draft of wine from his goblet.
The room was silent and seemed to hover in the glowing green haze. Sir Rodrick felt light hearted and leaned back in his chair placing his hand on his hip. There he felt the hilt of his sword. The sword that the queen had given him when she promised him the hand of Princess Epona if he but slay the dragon. Out of his fuzzy mind a thought then occurred to Sir Rodrick. It seemed an odd thought needling at the edges of his consciousness. All in the room felt comfortable like a warm bath but this thought stuck out like a sharp icicle: This was just a made-up story the witches were telling them. There was a real princess who needed to be rescued from the dragon and they were down here getting drunk with witches telling them tales.
Just as Lord Andras was about to kiss the maiden Sir Rodrick leaped up from his chair, “Get away from him!” He shouted, drawing the sword. The sword seemed to reflect a golden light rather than the glowing green of the room. It glinted like the morning sun and the sight of it seemed to awaken the men and Lord Andras. Its light shone upon the faces of the women and a strange sight occurred. Where there had previously been three women there now stood only one and it was the crone. In fact she was older still than the crone, nothing but a skeleton stood before them in filthy rags.
Lord Andras leaped back from the death’s-head he had just nearly kissed. Recognition and disgust came over his face and he drew his sword and held it up between him and the skeleton.
“You are not a maiden, you are death itself!” Cried Lord Andras. You are indeed a daughter of the sea serpent and a sister to the dragon. My father, the Emperor, slayed that ancient worm long ago. You are a liar. Men do not pay homage to dragons; they are enslaved by them!”
Druis produced a lighted torch and quickly passed more torches around to the men. The men huddled together bewildered behind Lord Andras and Sir Rodrick. They drew their swords and shouted in confusion. The skeleton began to laugh and the bones shifted and changed shape, suddenly before them was the large skeleton of a snake twisting about hissing and dripping venom from its fangs.
Then began a pitched battle of wills between Lord Andras and the Snake. Twisting about they battled with the men stabbing at the creature and waving their torches at it. Lord Andras took hold of the creature's jaw and wrestled it like a lion tamer. All the while they were locked in combat writhing around the room in a mess of confusion. Rodrick hacked at the sides of the snake with his sword and the men tried to tackle and subdue the beast. Back and forth the battle went for many minutes with neither one getting the upper hand.
Finally Lord Andras was on top for but a minute and he cried out to his friends, “quickly cut off its head!” Sir Rodrick leaped into action and using his shining sword he came down upon the snake and severed its spine at the base of the skull. The head ceased its incessant snapping but the long body writhed on, twisting and turning about the room.
“Quickly make for the passageway!” Druis shouted. The men crawled and leaped around the snake all desperately climbing through the narrow doorway. The snake thrashed about overturning the cauldron and the table and knocking about the chairs. Soon the room was all an inferno of smoke and flames as the coals from the fire were stirred about the room. The walls shook and the floor began to give way below them. The passageway they had come through seemed to sag and collapse behind the prison door. Druis got to the passageway last. He picked up the knitting and shears that the women had left behind and hid them away under his cloak. The men leaped through the doorway just missing the licking flames and they heaved it shut behind them with a mighty effort.
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