Lord Andras was all alone and afraid. He missed his companions and felt hurt that they had abandoned him. He thought that at least Rodrick would have stayed. He thought of his father far away in the empire and he wished he could be there again riding a horse through the countryside, banner held high. Despite his fear and apprehension he still held in his heart a calm surety of the path forward. That somehow the endless darkness would depart and that if he only could hold on a little longer, to the very bottom of the crypt, that he would find the way out again.
He walked on with just the stub of his torch left, soon to be sputtering out. The path narrowed and shrunk so that he had to crouch to get through. It twisted downward and became steeper so that he began to slip often as he walked. He knew that even if he tried to turn around he could never make it back up the steep pathway. Finally when his torch was gone he felt the narrow turning ever downward of a stone spiral staircase. He no longer had any light but he could feel the walls on either side and the steps cut into the stone below him. He descended in complete darkness for what felt like hours, maybe for days. Always to the left and down. All the while thinking of his father, of poor Rodrick who had deserted him, of the kingdom in peril far above him.
Finally the monotony broke and his foot stepped downward into cold water that startled him as it splashed up and soaked through his boots. The staircase was flooded and he could go no further. He felt the edges of panic in his mind, long held at bay by his courage and strong will. He had descended to the very root of the world and gotten trapped in the darkness at the bottom.
You may think that all hope was lost for Lord Andras and for the party of heroes. Indeed if you or I were to tread this path our nerve would surely fail us. But Lord Andras had a will greater than any man, and a courage much stronger. He took off his armor and taking a final breath, walked into the cold water, resigning himself to death or whatever may take him.
The staircase twisted around below him. He forced his body weightlessly downward through the blackness and the coldness. Eyes wide open seeing nothing. He followed the staircase down around one turn. Two turns, Three turns. His air was all but spent. He made the fourth inward spiraling turn and his right hand touched instead of a hard wall, nothingness. It was a passageway, the end of the staircase.
With his last breath and consciousness he pulled himself through the doorway and upward. Releasing his breath he rose through the black water in a torrent of bubbles. He beheld above him a white light. His head broke the surface and he breathed in great gulping lungfuls of air.
When he had regained his breath he was able to look about him. He was treading water in a round lake. The lake was in a great domed cavern, bigger than any cathedral, bigger than any canyon on the surface of the earth. Far up above him hovering in the air at the apex of the dome lay what looked like a small full moon. It gave off light, illuminating the cavern in a pale glow.
In the very center of the lake lay an island bristling with green vegetation with a stone hut in the center and a little wooden boat tied up to a dock. Smoke was rising from the chimney of the hut and the little window showed a light inside.
Lord Andras swam for the dock and crawled up upon it. He tried to wring out his clothes and spent some time trying to warm up and regain his strength.
When Lord Andras felt some strength return to him he turned his attention to the stone hut in the center of the island. He had lost his armor and helmet but he still had his sword and he rested a hand on it reassuringly as strode up to the hut.
He approached the door which was partially open. He perceived some presence inside and heard a strange voice singing softly to itself.
“Tally ho I say!” Lord Andras announced. He did not want to surprise the occupant who he did not know to be friend or foe. Then the door creaked open and on the other side stood a very queer creature. Almost as tall as a man and standing upright before him was a great fat toad. Its large watery eyes fixed on him and it opened it’s mouth and spoke in a deep ribbety voice.
“Why hello there!” It said, “I was not expecting company.”
Lord Andras, baffled and amazed, could only make his apologies for disturbing it at such a late hour.
“It’s always a late hour here,” said the toad. “It’s one minute ‘till midnight, always has been. Not a bad time for fishing though I do say. But where are my manners? Come on inside you look a bit chilled! I have a fire going and a big pot of fishie stew to warm you up!”
The strange toad invited Lord Andras in and the two of them sat around the hearth and sipped tea and then ate crackers and a thick fish stew. Lord Andras was astonished and confused but most of all felt grateful to be alive and to have something hot to eat after so long in the cold and darkness. All the while they ate the toad talked non stop of fishing. Of his biggest catch, of the one that got away, of various types of bait and tackle. On and on he went as Lord Andras sipped his stew and listened and nodded, being as polite a guest as he could manage under such strange circumstances.
Finally after some time Lord Andras interjected to ask a question,” But how is it that you came to get down here?” He said.
“Oh I have always been down here,” the toad responded, “It’s where the best fishing is.”
“But do you know the way out?” Lord Andras asked, “The way to the surface?”
“Out?” The Toad responded, “there is no out, only in. The fishies swim in and I catch and eat them. There is no out.”
Lord Andras tried in vain to ask this same question in many different ways but the toad didn’t seem to understand him and always turned the conversation back to fishing. Finally Lord Andras asked, “Then where do the fish come in from?”
“Oh I’m glad you asked,” said the toad, excited to talk further on his favorite subject, “There are many ways in for fishies, and I have the key to all the doorways, follow me I’ll show you.”
With that the toad hopped out of the hut with Lord Andras following behind. The toad led them down to the dock and climbed into the little wooden boat beconing Lord Andras to do the same. They pushed off from shore, the toad sitting in the back making slow strokes with a wide paddle. Lord Andras noticed two cane fishing poles in the bottom of the boat with large sharp hooks on them. The toad paddled them out to the edge of the lake where sheer stone walls met the dark water. Lord Andras noticed little chains hanging from rings in the wall at even intervals every few feet along the wall.
“Here are the fishie doors,” the toad said, pulling on one of the chains. When he did so a little door opened, spilling water out into the lake like a small cataract. “There go the fishies!” said the toad pointing.
As Lord Andras watched the water he saw things in it, pale things pouring over the edge. They were not fish. They were men, pale transparent men but men none the less. Lords and Ladies, knights and maidens of the Kingdom, their souls remaining but not their bodies. To Lord Andras’ horror the toad reached over the edge and grabbed one of the men with his webbed fingers, holding the ghost by the neck. He pulled the ghost over the edge and tossed it into the boat where it shivered, apparently suffering but ignorant to its surroundings.
Lord Andras recoiled, “Throw it back!” he demanded, “That’s not a fish that’s the soul of a man!” he shouted at the toad. Then Lord Andras thought back to the stew he had eaten earlier and wretched over the side of the little boat.
“Not very polite!” The toad scolded, “I’m the fisherman here not you! I’ll keep whichever ones I like. You catch your own fish!” And with that the toad handed him one of the fishing polls, taking the other one himself. The toad proceeded to bait the hook with a golden coin and tossed it in the water.
The toad fished for a few minutes tossing in its line here and there and paddling around opening various doors letting in more water and with it more ghosts slipping into the lake. Lord Andras noticed the water in the cavern raised slightly. Then the toad opened another door and over the edge of the cataract Lord Andras saw one of his companions fall along with the ghosts. It was his dear friend Malcolm, one of the last to betray him in the caverns, a rider who had stuck with him for years. His heart ached at the sight of him. Malcolm was pale and somehow less substantial then before but not yet disembodied. He seemed to be still a man in the flesh and not yet a ghost. The toad saw him too.
“That’s a big one!” said the toad with excitement.
“That one is mine!” challenged Lord Andras in a fury.
With that a terrific battle was begun between the two fishermen. Each one coaxing the delirious Malcolm with various bait. The man didn’t seem to be aware of his surroundings and he swirled around fish-like with the other poor souls in the water. The toad tried gold and pearls and many small beautiful things to attract Malcolm. Lord Andras did the same shouting to the man the whole time. Finally when Malcolm came close to the boat Lord Andras simply reached in and grabbed him by his collar and hoisted him onto the boat by sheer force.
“No fair no fair!” The Toad said. “That one knows you! It’s tame!”
“That’s how you caught yours!” Lord Andras challenged, pointing to the first soul still shivering in the bottom of the boat. Malcolm lay in the boat moaning, unresponsive to Lord Andras’s kind words and ministrations. The boat seemed a little bigger than it had been before, it had somehow stretched and now accommodated the two men, the ghost and the toad.
Then Lord Andras spotted another one of his companions spill over the sides. It was Terrance, another of his brave riders. He took the paddle from the toad and used it to pull the boat over to the half-dead man pulling him aboard as well. The toad furiously pulled in more souls from the lake. All the while the boat imperceptibly growing to accommodate its occupants.
Back and forth the two went, catching ghosts and men alike. Each time the toad tried to catch one of Lord Andras’s men the nobleman would wrench the pole or the paddle or the line itself away from the toad and take his man back by sheer force. The toad was getting more and more angry at missing the “bigger fishies” as he put it.
Soon Eckbert spilled over the edge and Lord Andras was able to coax him over with rubies. Then Druis appeared and Lord Andras was able to catch him by offering him the hem of his cloak. Finally Lord Andras had caught up all his men and everyone was accounted for except for Rodrick. The men in the boat were coming around a little but still delirious. Lord Andras spoke to them reassuring words and told each of them he forgave them for leaving him in the hour of greatest need.
Furiously the toad was catching ghosts and scowling at Lord Andras, “That’s no way to fish!” The toad spat at him, “You have to use cunning not force!”
The toad paddled them around the cavern opening more and more doors and letting in more and more water. Lord Andras noticed that the water had risen quite a bit by now and the little stone hut and the island were now completely submerged. The moon above them looked much closer now and perhaps not so much like a moon after all.
Then over the edge came Rodrick. The toad seeing the youth baited his hook with a ribbon from the hair of a young maiden. Lord Andras watched as the pale form of Rodrick noticed the ribbon and made for it.
“No Sir Rodrick!” Shouted Lord Andras. “Follow my voice, not the distractions put before you!
Rodrick faltered looking around not sure where to go.
“Remember the Kingdom!” Said Lord Andras, “Remember the Queen and the Princess! Remember the King and the Emperor and remember me! My friend come back to me!” Lord Andras continued shouting, pleading, earnestly begging for poor Rodrick to acknowledge him.
Rodrick floated in the water with the toad on one side with treasures and Lord Andras on the other with mere words. Finally the spell broke and Rodrick reached out to Lord Andras. Lord Andras reached down and pulled Rodrick from the water, embracing him and laughing with delight.
The toad screamed in anger and leaped at the two men. Lord Andras drew his sword and ran the toad through, spilling it over the side of the boat where it sank into the depths of the black water.
The men, still half delirious, looked up at Lord Andras saying, “My Lord where have you been, we have been searching for you in the darkness.”
“It is I who found you it seems,” Replied Lord Andras, taking each of their hands and reassuring them.
With that he took up the paddle and navigated around the room. He opened the remaining doorways, spilling more water and poor souls into the lake. The water rose and rose and the boat got closer to the moon at the roof of the cavern.
“You’ll drown us!” Said Druis in alarm, starting to return to his senses.
“Do not fear,” Replied Lord Andras, “The moon above you is a doorway too. It will lead us out of here.”
Lord Andras then paddled the boat to the middle of the lake and the water pushed them through the round opening which was not a moon but a passageway of shining light. The boat rose on the torrent of water pushing upward faster and faster through a narrow column. This went on for some time when the men saw that the light above them shining down through the column was sunlight from far above reflecting off the mirrored walls. They rose and rose and finally came out onto the surface of a lake, a real lake, many miles above in the living world. Water spilled out around them from the depths below and with it the doomed ghosts. When the sunlight touched each of these poor souls it seemed to fill them up with light and before their eyes the ghosts shimmered and then faded and blew away on the wind like dust.
The sunlight also had an effect on the companions who seemed to drink it in, along with the fresh air. Their skin regained color and their bodies grew more substantial. Each of them rejoiced at their escape and they laughed and embraced and cheered on their brave Lord Andras who had rescued them from a terrible fate.
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