GUILLAUME XII

  The entrance to the tomb gaped like the maw: stalagmites and stalactites jutted from the ceiling and the floor, resembling rows of fangs. Guillaume gagged due to a terrible stench of decay emanating from within. Twin braziers framed the entryway, burning with green flames and painting the area in an emerald hue.

  Guillaume was grateful to be out of the pitch-black passageways that Bauchan had led them through. He had hit his head numerous times on areas with low ceilings, banged his elbows repeatedly, and scraped his knees in the sections he had to crawl through.

  There had been tense moments when they could hear the shouts and armor clanks of guards directly on the opposite side of the wall. They froze in fear, too scared to breathe. Now at least they could see the horrors that awaited them; in the tunnels Guillaume’s imagination had played horrible tricks on him.

  As the party hesitated to proceed into the cavern, Bauchan smiled patiently as it padded over to the entryway of the cave and walked through the threshold. It wrinkled its tiny purple nose and drew an ornate handkerchief from its breast pocket, but otherwise seemed unconcerned with the surroundings.

  “It is not too late to turn back,” Guillaume said shakily.

  “And go where?” Eógan fired back.

  “I fear we have no other choice, Guillaume,” Liadan added. “The High King cannot be reasoned with.”

  As Liadan spoke, Esker moved towards a stalactite hanging from the ceiling of the tomb and gingerly ran her hand across the surface of it. Guillaume turned to look back the way they had come and uncertainty hung over the party.

  Esker’s baritone pierced the silence. “These are not stone,” she said as she closely examined more of the stalactites and stalagmites. “This curve could not be caused by natural means.” Esker gestured towards the rows of fang like protrusions and demonstrated how each bowed outwardly. “In stone, these formations are caused by moisture dissolving the limestone: yet there is no water here and I do not sense a life stream,” as Esker said those final words, she lost her balance and tumbled backward into the darkness. Metal scraped and rang out, there was a snap of bone.

  Guillaume’s eyes went wide and his trepidation about entering the tomb was immediately forgotten as he rushed to check on Esker. Eógan and Liadan followed close behind. What they saw was as reassuring as it was horrifying: Esker was perfectly safe, yet strewn around her and filling the cavernous chamber were desiccated bodies. Ancient blood splattered the walls, while the boney remains of severed limbs and rusted tools were strewn across the floor. Esker had tripped over one of the corpses and dislodged a pick, which still had skeletal fingers wrapped around the handle.

  “Holy shit!” Eógan said as he helped Esker up by grasping her hand.

  “I have quite a different take,” Liadan responded softly. “There is a stench of evil.”

  Guillaume stooped and examined the pick. When he lifted it, the skeletal hand held fast and Guillaume nervously shook it, trying to dislodge the bones. It took more effort than expected, yet he eventually succeeded. “There are gouges all along this haft,” he said as he ran his fingers along the wood handle of the pick.

  “Aye, they tried to defend themselves,” Eógan replied, pointing to similar markings on other tools. He toed the radius bone of a forearm with deep cuts along it.

  “Who would do this?” Liadan asked. “And why were these poor souls left unburied?”

  “They are a warning,” a thin voice answered. It was shocking to hear Bauchan speak for the first time. The small well-dressed creature had made its way outside the entryway. It smiled sadly and in an exaggerated display, flipped a lever hidden behind one of the green flame braziers.

  Bauchan waved at them with a purple hand as the maw of the tomb snapped shut, plunging Eógan, Esker, Guillaume, and Liadan into darkness.

  ———

  “I am beginning to have trust issues,” Eógan announced from the pitch black of the chamber.

  “I do not think Bauchan meant us harm,” Esker replied. “I think it is hoping to discourage our pursuers from following us into this tomb.”

  “Did anyone happen to bring a torch?” Guillaume asked.

  “Let there be light,” Liadan responded. The rest of the party could sense her guilty smile well before she was illuminated in a pulsating holy aura.

  Esker shielded her large eyes from the angelic glow surrounding Liadan and moved to the periphery of its radius. “Perhaps there are useful tools amongst these remains,” the Tengu said as she started to sift through some of the desiccated corpses.

  “These corpses look quite old Esker, I would be surprised if the tools had much integrity left,” Guillaume said as he nervously edged around the nearest skeleton, half expecting it to move.

  “Agreed. The metalwork was of poor quality to begin with, forged with inferior alloys,” Esker added after taking a closer look. “However, your tiny eyes may find some use for this Guillaume.” She lifted a rusted lantern from a pile of debris. The lantern sloshed slightly, suggesting that it still contained some fuel.

  “What do you think happened here?” Liadan asked. “What motivated this massacre?”

  “Perhaps these workers were killed to prevent any knowledge of what lies inside this tomb from reaching the outside world,” Eógan suggested grimly. As he looked across the chamber towards a large arched doorway, small green flame braziers ignited along the perimeter of the room and illuminated a hallway on the other side of the arch. A blackened iron gate blocked the opening of the passage. “I do not like that in the slightest.”

  The braziers revealed several other horrid sights: blood was splattered above the archway, shaped in lettering that resembled Gaídel script, while the stone floor was charred black in a cone shape, emanating from the gate. At the far end of the hallway, a red hot glow began to build, like a coal nestled amongst stirred embers.

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  “That makes me quite anxious as well,” Guillaume said softly. “Is someone listening to us? Or watching us?” His voice quavered slightly. “What should we do now?” Guillaume asked as Eógan poked around the corpses.

  Esker tried to force open the gate, while Liadan was staring up at the bloody words above the archway. “I can almost make these out…” Liadan mumbled to herself, deep in concentration. “This is archaic Gaídel script, however, these do not seem to be words. It seems like a nonsensical series of syllables…”

  “Perhaps it is best left alone,” Guillaume pleaded as he shivered at sight of the writing. The author had clearly used their hands as a writing instrument and blood as ink.

  “Maybe voicing those sounds will open this damn gate,” Eógan said impatiently, as he kicked the metal bars, which rang dully.

  “Do you have an opinion Esker?” Liadan asked, while staring up at the writing,

  “Not especially,” the Tengu replied. “There is no hole for a key to this barrier, a hidden mechanism may unlock it.” She stepped away from the gate and began running her hand along the wall.

  “Should we put it to a vote?” Guillaume asked.

  Eógan jumped away from the gate, alarmed. “We may not have time for that,” he said as he pointed down the hallway. The faint red glow was building. “Speak the words Liadan!”

  “I will do my best,” Liadan replied, she was flustered as she began to sound out the bloody writing. “Co-conn… Con-nex-ur,” Liadan read haltingly. “Con-nex-ur… ossis, ossisorum. Connexur Ossosiorum!”

  “NO, WAIT!” Guillaume yelled, trying to interrupt her before she finished voicing the incantation. The words were written in archaic Gaídel script, but Guillaume recognized the Latin meaning from his tutelage as a child. “Oh dear…” he said hopelessly as the green braziers flashed purple and dark energy began to leak out of them in snake like wisps.

  “What did I say?” Liadan asked with concern.

  “‘Connect the bones’ in Latin…”

  “Oh dear,” Liadan echoed.

  As the sickly purple hued magic coalesced around the skeletal remains, their teeth began to chatter and their limbs began to twitch. Corpses had been piled by the braziers framing the archway of the gate and now the undead began to untangle themselves, clutching rusted tools with boney hands.

  Esker lashed out with the harvestman’s barbed limb as the nearest skeletons staggered to their feet. Bones scattered and went flying into the dark corners of the chamber.

  Meanwhile, Eógan shoved back a trio of the desiccated workers with the haft of his spear and pierced the ribcage of a fourth. The bones shattered around the point of the spear, yet that did not stop the rest of the corpse from raking Eógan with its pick across his shoulder. The Pecht cried out in pain.

  Guillaume watched in horror as the skeletons Esker had unmade began to reconstitute: bones and joints snapped back into place, empty eye sockets glowed purple.

  “Behind you!” Guillaume shouted, warning Esker of the encroaching undead.

  The Tengu whirled in time, sweeping her weapon in an arc and snapping the forearms of her assailants. “They do not stay down,” she roared as she doubled her attacks, each blow knocking a corpse to pieces: unfortunately, two seemed to take the place of every fallen foe.

  Liadan backed up several steps and stood in front of the sealed gate. The white hot glow around her blossomed. Guillaume ducked behind her as a wave of skeletons threatened to envelope them.

  “Begone!” Liadan demanded as the symbol of the Broken Man flared, constructing a spectral shield with delicate strands of holy energy. It arced nearly Guillaume’s height in both directions, sealing off the mass of corpses in the center of the chamber, but leaving the flanks where Esker and Eógan fought vulnerable.

  Curiously, the reanimated skeletons were not repulsed by Liadan’s angelic shield. They could not pass the barrier, yet whatever magic was at work seemed to protect them from the searing heat of Liadan’s faith. Some of the undead battered ineffectually at the holy barrier with their tools, while others pressed their hands and skulls upon it.

  “We must find a way out of here before we are overwhelmed,” Eógan called out as he battered the skull of a corpse with the butt of his spear, pulverizing it to dust. That seemed to be effective, since slashing or piercing the skeletons only delayed them. “Bludgeon the undead!” Eógan yelled to Esker. “Guillaume, search these braziers and see if there is a hidden switch.”

  Guillaume was reluctant to draw near the frenzied skeletons, but he wanted to help his friends, so he stifled his fear and edged towards the brazier adjacent to Eógan. His Pechtish companion had now fully abandoned the edged point of his spear and in between parries, brought the study oak shaft down against his undead assailants. Bones still flew and reconstituted, yet less and less of each skeleton began to reanimate.

  Liadan’s spectral shield helped illuminate the dark corners of the room, however, Guillaume could not see any hidden switches behind the brazier. As Eógan smashed the base of a corpse’s spine to powder, Guillaume fumbled behind the brazier, searching with his hands. “There is nothing here,” he reported mostly to himself. As he began to stand, Guillaume shrieked as the upper half of skeleton clawed itself upright with one hand and grabbed his forearm with the other.

  Eógan was occupied as he fended off half a dozen undead that were creeping behind Liadan’s barrier and did not turn to aid Guillaume. Panicked, Guillaume tried to wrench his arm free, but the skeleton held fast and latched onto him with its other hand. Its mouth opened wide as it pulled itself close enough to bite.

  Before the yellowed teeth could find purchase, Guillaume surprised himself. He emphatically said, “No!” When he pressed his free hand on the front of the skeleton’s skull and shoved it away, he felt a pulse of energy leave his body. The corpse fell apart, a haze of purple magic dissipated into the air.

  “Well now,” Eógan said, grunting as he defended himself from the blows of rusted tools and avoided the grasp of boney hands. “When I raise my spear, work your magic… or whatever it is you are doing.” Eógan charged into the press of skeletons with his spear held horizontally in both hands and caught it under their arms. The deer spirits tattooed on his legs bolstered him with power and he was able to momentarily lift the corpses arms up above their skulls. Guillaume scrambled over, touching the skeletons two at a time and again felt a strange sensation leaving his finger tips. Each pair of undead he touched were dispelled, returning to harmless piles of bones. “Well done lad,” Eógan said as he intercepted another wave of skeletons. “Now go aid Esker and search the other brazier. I have a hunch that Bauchan was giving us a hint.”

  “I cannot hold them back much longer,” Liadan called weakly from the center of the room, she had grown flush and perspiration rained down her face.

  “Hold on just a bit longer, I believe in you,” Guillaume encouraged as he scampered past the sealed gate to where Esker battled the undead.

  The Tengu slashed and dismembered skeletons to her left and her right, yet they rose nearly as quickly as they fell. Frustrated, she tucked her weapon over her shoulder and pressed her hand to the stone wall.

  Guillaume was amazed to see her large hand disappear within the mortared bricks and as she drew it back out, her fist was fully encased in rock. Esker did not sag from the effort of this feat like she had after she opened the sealed door of the feast hall; instead Esker smashed skeletons with gusto. With her fist bolstered even larger by the layer of stone, she pulverized bones with ease and was soon left hunting for additional prey. She ventured past the edge of Liadan’s spectral shield and drew most of the remaining skeletons to that side of the chamber.

  Guillaume gawked for a moment, before remembering his task and fumbled about the brazier. He searched both sides of it, reached to the back of it, and felt along the front of the burnished metal. There was no hidden switch or lever, not even a secret panel. Frustrated he stood. “Stupid brazier,” he muttered as he kicked at it. With a dull metal clunk the brazier tipped slightly, mechanisms within the wall began to whir into motion. With a rusty groan, the gate lowered into the floor, clearing the way forward.

  “Well done,” Liadan said weakly, as her holy barrier flickered and the luminous filigree composing it unwound. The skeletons who had been pressing against it stumbled forward, raising their arms and weapons to attack.

  The red hot glow at the far end of the hallway flared, Guillaume could feel the heat of the fire on his brow.