Spectacular Tales III Read online

  Part Two

  The ruts near the cave entrance appear occluded by some manner of substance the once-barbarian has seen before. A trip-hammer heart pounds fervently beneath Ufburk's breastbone. It is near-silent now, but this moment fills him with unease. A palpable air strains the environment.

  "I smell gases," Ufburk mutters, "nothing more."

  But is there more? Ufburk is unsure if he wants the answer. He studies his bruised right fist; it is overly swollen. Blue ribbons congeal into lavender pools below the skin. A certainty that he is not alone with only his pups for company steals a pathway to his overactive brain.

  Adrenaline still surges in his veins. He casts a sidelong glance toward the entrance of the cave and shivers when he thinks again about the fight he recently endured. Before moving on, the once-barbarian stares at the bloodstains covering him from his elbows down.

  "Here's guessing I have sparse time at best. There is little room to clean up before greeting father. But yon stream should help me. You two are in need of some sprucing up too."

  Despite his rhetoric, Ufburk is proud of the dogs his cousin raised for him. Thinking of Danno makes for sadness. Enduring his melancholy, Ufburk leads the dogs deeper into the darkening cave, towards the sound of running water.

  As the shadows darken, Rugsin and Bevold take the point, staying low on instinct. Ufburk follows them soundlessly, hoping to reach Tiber soon and put an end to Tarak's enemies.

  The only sound is the underground stream, which is his destination. They move hastily, despite the risk of danger. The once-barbarian understands his peril and that his father would not want his only son to put himself in harm's way to reach him. But Ufburk has no other choice and has a will of his own with which to contend. He will take the chance, even if his plan turns to folly and he dies trying.

  The deeper they venture into the cave the further the temperature plummets until Ufburk is straining to keep his teeth from chattering. Ufburk flicks a switch on the side of his Raygun, and an eerie light emits from its side panel, enough luminance to help guide the way.

  The gloom blends with the amber-shining luminance of the Raygun. Still, there is only the sound of the distant stream. The gaseous air leaves Ufburk feeling unsteady, but he knows his plan is the only way he will reach his father.

  He does not allow himself the luxury of fear. Perhaps there might come a day for grieving or to feel the aftershocks of the terror he endures; this is not such a time. Bravery is not a conscience thought, yet neither are his trepidations. Ufburk presses onward. Bevold and Rugsin stay near their master.

  Mere minutes later Ufburk emerges into a vast cavern, where the stream ends in a semi-circular pool. A green mist rises from the watery depths there. The aqua green colour is entrancing, the deep water is inviting him. The once-barbarian disrobes, dropping his carelessly folded leather jerkin and breeches to the dusty ground. Beside him, Bevold whines. Ufburk absentmindedly pats the pup, assuring himself as well as the dog,

  Placing his axe and Raygun on top of his folded clothes, Ufburk bends to speak to the animals;

  "Hold here, watch. Watch only. Do not deny me! Hold here."

  Taking a deep breath into his heaving chest, the once-barbarian dives down into the unexpectedly cold pool. Something beyond his understanding compels him to fall deeper swimming rapidly, despite the growing numbness that pervades his limbs and torso.

  The absence of light makes vision impossible. Only thoughts, driven nearly mad by some other presence guide Ufburk. A sharp pain jabs at his sides, he knows this is his need to breathe yet still he goes down that dark chasm of endless pooling and near freezing waters.

  His lungs sting from the effort, and somehow he continues, refusing to listen to the now-demanding voice of Seljuk telling him to suck the water into his nose and throat. Without reason Ufburk's left arm shoots upward and he is pressing Antar's brace against his mouth, and it seems he can go forever now, swimming under the hillside near the place he grew tall, from a child to a man.

  And he reaches a stone face, feeling along its jutting surface with his opposite hand allows him to find a small tunnel through the limestone. Ufburk squeezes through, carefully keeping Antar's Brace pressed against his mouth and the underside of his nose.

  Miraculously, the need to breathe has vanished. Ufburk scrapes a calf on the passage but soon passes through; he knows it is bleeding. A vague light is visible above him. Moving rapidly, he swims upward, kicking furiously and clawing the water with his off hand.

  As he shoots toward the surface, he begins to feel a growing need to breathe real air once more. A cold fear envelops him when he thinks about Antar's Brace, but Ufburk pushes upward. He must see his father before he follows through on his plan of action.

  Breaking the surface, Ufburk cannot help himself, he gasps at the thick air like a starving man, manages to find the pool's edge and hauls himself onto the muddied earth. Even as he lies on his back, sucking warm air into his near-breathless and cold body, the once-barbarian hears footsteps. The sound of the footpads comes to rest over him, and Ufburk opens his eyes. Ufburk's father, Tiber, Tarak's King and Chieftain, stands to grin down at his son. The King's eyes are teary, but his son's stream as he sees a father he thought he might never see again.

  "Ah, my Princely Son has a will that gods might envy. But we have little time Ufburk before you must kill Rolo."

  King Tiber extends his firm hand, helping his brave son to his feet.

  "Come, eat. talk. We must be fast, but you will need all the energy you can muster. There is much to weather."

  So Ufburk does rise, his eyes welling with silver-homecoming tears. His feet are insensitive to the hard floor, and The King pauses to warn Ufburk that his feet could be seriously injured, "if he is not more careful," and to "take care they do not get cut."

  Ufburk knows blood is easy to track but is not worried his enemies have followed him here. Looking down at his white puffy skin shows there is cause for caution. In the chamber, a reddish glow emanates from down a longish corridor.

  The Chieftain-King takes the route, saying nothing now.

  The tension between the two feels heightened to Ufburk, but he holds his tongue, knowing Tiber will speak when there comes the need. A steady drop in temperature leaves Ufburk, still in the buff, chilled. He fights himself to stop his trembling, and soon they come into the warm chamber from where that reddish glow came.

  "In that chest are your old clothes, the ones you trained Sefer while wearing."

  Ufburk finds the rags and fearing they will no longer fit him; he squeezes his thighs into his old dark pants. These still fit him well, but the sleeves and chest portions of his soft sewn shirt no longer allow him to wear the thing, he tears the sleeves away, tossing them aside and rips the shirt at the collar, splitting the garment open at the neckline, exposing the chest. He does not know that he will don the wardrobe for many years. It only feels good to wear clean clothes after so many years wearing his others.

  "Take that meat from the fire and have your fill," says The King from over Ufburk's shoulder. "The carafe holds wine, 'Tis thin son, but helpful. I will tie your hair back for battle as I inform you, and you take your nourishment. Time casts a small shadow, but we cannot be foolhardy. We are the last chance for Tarak, the galaxy."

  Ufburk says nothing as he listens to his father.

  "Rolo is here son, near the mouth of the tunnel you went through. He is our most precise danger. I sense Rydal too, alive, and fighting."

  At this, Tiber stops talking, seeming to listen to the stillness.

  "Yes, Seljuk does hide with a small army in the wing. We might still arrest him now, forever. Will you swear to do as I say? My very life will depend on you; so answer rightly."

  Tiber's frankness confounds Ufburk, but he swears fealty to his father.

  They talk plainly; their motives are transparent. But it comes to bloodshed, their plan.

  "Rolo is many things son, but the first thing you must know is th
at he was once my brother. Seljuk stole his mind, promising riches -all the spoils of battle, to Rolo. And Rolo was not, is not, weak. He fought Seljuk, as you likely have, inside his mind. The Many-eyed wizard won that war of the spirits. The Wizard Poisoned my younger sibling in ways that no living man should endure and now Rolo is hollow."

  "An Uncle? Does he not know you, father? Can we save him?"

  "I do not see any resolution, other than Rolo's death and the same for Seljuk. You must venture out soon, from the exit in yonder cavern. Circle in behind Rolo and kill him with this bone-sword."

  Ufburk accepts the weapon and Tiber returns to braiding Ufburk's thick brown mane. He thinks the weapon eerie, as it looks too similar to Rydal's. Ufburk is aware Tiber has called his friend by name.

  "Looks flimsy, light."

  "Tis, yet it has an enchantment and is forged by a master."

  "What weaponry will Rolo bring?"

  Ufburk is frowning, while his thoughts turn to his Raygun and Axe.

  "Rolo will be dangerous, regardless of what weapons he bears. Go now, kill him, before he reaches your pups."

  Suddenly thinking of the dogs raises a concern for the once-barbarian.

  "Father, Danno..."

  "Has died. Yes, but we shan't perish soon, Go on Ufburk. I have work to do as well."

  For a long instant, Ufburk does not take action. He only stares at the mischievous sparks flying to and fro inside his father's eyes.

  "Go, son..."

  "Father..."

  "We will speak when this is through. You must move!"

  Tiber shoves Ufburk toward the passage.

  "Go."

  A twinge of desperation colours Ufburk's spoken response, "I shall, but stay alive. I have to talk with you at length. I must know how I can travel the Universe, and yet it leads me back to you. I have to understand why I am going to kill an uncle I have never known and did not know I had."

  "That is fair. Go, son. Please. Run!"

  So Ufburk sprints down the corridor. His bare feet no longer leave him feeling concerned. Cuts or no, presently, he thinks about two things, fighting and dying.