Once upon a time, a very long time before anyone mentioned in these stories was born, a city named Denton sat at the base of a short mountain, which was really an old volcano. The volcano was known derisively as Blowtop, since it hadn’t erupted in a very long time, longer than anyone could remember. There were lava spills visible on the sides, but they were old and eroded. Covered in dirt and hidden ash deposits, they were green with grass, bushes, and trees.
It was a very beautiful city, in a delightful setting. The mountain was not tall, but it looked impressive, with a jagged top. It was picturesque, and many local painters included it in their work. The mountain blocked the cold north wind and held up the west wind just enough to empty its rain clouds on the farmland near the city.
Tall, strong walls surrounded the city, with gates to the east, west, and south. Denton was moderately big, but not really large, compact, densely populated. The city was prosperous, with many wealthy merchants who traded across all of central Orilon. Their mansions were magnificent, as were the Temples they built to the Gods. Shopkeepers and tradesmen had less ornate houses, but all were attractive and well-built. There was enough wealth in the city that even poor people could find work and live in modest comfort.
The inhabitants were all proud of Denton, its wealth, its beauty, and especially its sense of community. A fire in a poor neighborhood always brought donations from the rich citizens to restore the damage. If a child got lost, people from all over the city would join together to search until the child was found. Any resident was allowed to make suggestions for improving the city, and meetings of the city council were always well-attended.
Then one day, Waylon looked up at the mountain and saw a dark cloud at its top. He was standing in front of his leather shop, arranging an outside display of his goods. He straightened his back and stretched, and his glance lit upon the small, dark cloud. One little, very dark cloud. He thought, How odd there should be just one little cloud, and so dark. Usually rain clouds stop on the slopes, and are denser. It doesn’t even look like a proper cloud. More like smoke, but there’s nothing on top of Blowtop to burn.
He looked down the street and saw a number of people gathering in the main square, gazing up at the mountain. He recognized a couple of scholars from the Temple of Grasilos among them talking with a stranger. He called to his son to watch the shop and went into the square. Maybe they’ll explain what the cloud is.
“No, it’s not a cloud,” Nikolai explained, “it’s smoke. I’ve studied volcanoes for many years, mostly in the almost-islands to the north and west. I had heard how Blowtop was completely dead, and I came here to see the difference between it and more active volcanoes. That smoke is proof that Blowtop is not entirely dead.”
“Is it going to erupt?” asked Harrison, the mayor and a prominent merchant. “What will happen to our city?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Nikolai admitted. “I’ve seen volcanoes which erupted at long intervals, but none that were quiet as long as this one. The smoke is a sign of activity inside the volcano, but there’s not much smoke. Have there been any earthquakes recently?”
“There was a strong earthquake about five years ago,” mentioned Ephraim, chief scholar of Grasilos. “It damaged some farms on the far side of the mountain, but not too much in the city. But there have been no more earthquakes since ….”
As if to belie him, the earth shook violently for ten seconds, knocking many people to the ground. A loud sound, like giant rocks smashing together, rang out from the volcano. Waylon looked back at his shop and saw his merchandise all over the street. A large block of masonry crashed from a building across the square, nearly crushing two people. A statue of an ancient hero fell off its pedestal, breaking into several pieces.
The shaking stopped and there was no more sound anywhere. People were still too scared to yell out their fear. They began to rise from the ground just in time to be shaken again by two more seconds of quaking. That extra shock released their frightened voices, and a hundred cries of terror filled the square, echoed by other shrieks from other parts of the city.
People who had been indoors ran out, scared by the way their buildings had shaken. Those who were outside, especially those near the fallen statue, ran inside, seeking the protection of solid roofs. They were all screaming, frightened by a danger they had never seen before.
Nikolai rose to his feet and turned toward the mountain. A thin column of gray smoke climbed up from the top of the volcano to a dark cloud of smoke and dust hanging high up in the sky. His face showed conflicting images of awe and fear.
“I’ve never seen a volcano erupt, not from the start,” he declared. “I travel to volcanoes that are already erupting, or that have stopped. It takes so long to hear of a volcano erupting, and to travel to it, that I’ve never seen this stage. I think, maybe, I’m not sure, but I think you have time to evacuate your people before it fully erupts. I would like to see the inside of the crater, though, to be sure of this.”
“I am Adrian, senior wizard in Denton. This is Cullen, another wizard, and we can fly you up to the crater so you can look in. Would you like that?”
“Oh, yes, please. I’ve seen wizards doing this and often envied them the fun.”
“Grab his left arm, Cullen. Now, just relax, sir. I’m not as young as Cullen, but I can carry half your weight easily with magic. We won’t let go of you.”
The three men floated slowly up from the square, rising over the city, and turning north to the volcano. They rose much higher than the summit, and the watchers below assumed Nikolai wanted to look all the way down into the crater. The wizards moved Nikolai to another spot, lower and almost inside the crater. Then they disappeared below the rim of the crater, popping out again fifty yards farther west. They rose high into the air again and turned south to come back to the city.
“Scholars love to learn new things,” Nikolai remarked as the wizards set him down, “and now I know that one shouldn’t breath the air coming out of a volcano. It’s immensely foul, like some old volcanic vents but much more intense because it’s fresh. Mayor Harrison, Denton is safe for the time being. I believe this firmly, but I warn you that the ‘time being’ is a very short period.
“I saw the smoke is coming from a large crack in the bottom of the crater. There is a deep red glow inside that crack. Lava usually flows out of a volcano with a brighter red color. It cools to a deeper red before turning black when fully cooled. So there is lava at the bottom of the crater, but not the sort that looks like it might flow easily out. I could be wrong about this. I did say I haven’t ever seen a volcano at this point in an eruption. The dark red glow was also pulsing with hints of a brighter color.
“We couldn’t stay up there too long. The air was unbreathable and the smoke made it hard to see anything. I have visited other volcanoes after they’ve erupted, and talked to the people who lived near them. This seems to be the start of an eruption, but it could take weeks, or even months before the full eruption starts.”
“I will call a public meeting tonight,” Harrison decided. “Everyone in the city should attend, so we will hold it in the fairground beyond the south gate. Please, all of you here, spread the word. We must make good plans to save ourselves, and our city if possible,”
***
The fairground was normally a pasture for local farmers, but by late summer the grass was cropped short enough to hold a fair there. It covered several acres and was the only place for the thousands of inhabitants of Denton to gather all at once. Some carpenters erected a platform in the center of the field big enough for a couple of dozen speakers, with stairs so others could come up and offer their opinions.
Mayor Harrison opened the meeting with a brief statement about the new danger from Blowtop. He then turned the discussion over to Nikolai, along with the strongvoice, a magical device that made one’s voice heard over a large area. He told the citizens what he had seen inside the volcano, what he knew about volcanoes, and what he and the other scholars had learned from books in the Temple of Grasilos.
“At most volcanoes that I’ve visited the local people said that ten to forty days passed from the first sign of activity till the eruption began. Based on this and what I’ve seen here, I think you have most of a month to evacuate Denton and move to somewhere safe. The eruption, when it comes, will begin with a vast rain of ash and rocks, followed by waves of lava. If it’s a large eruption, it may totally destroy the city.”
“Nikolai, I respect your vast knowledge and study of volcanoes,” began Sebastian, a rich merchant and high priest of Pronustio, “but you are asking us to abandon our homes, our livelihoods, everything we and our ancestors have created over generations. Where can we go? There are other cities and towns near us. They may allow some of us to move in with them, but none has room for all of us. How do all of us keep together as a community?
“I can be an ordinary priest of Pronustio anywhere, my rank is not important. I can be a successful merchant anywhere. However, my friendships here, with citizens high and low, are centered here, in Denton. I’m not alone in feeling this way about Denton. I’ve been to other cities where no one cares about anyone but himself. We aren’t that way in Denton. If we are scattered, how will we maintain, or recover, that feeling of belonging to each other?”
“May I say something, sir?” asked a man in the throng.
“Yes, come up the stairs. What is your name?”
“My name is Travis, sir, and I’m a weaver. I share your feelings about this city, Sebastian. Your father helped pay for a row of houses where I now live. I pay rent to you, and I think it’s a reasonable rent. But if the city is destroyed, the good feelings we share will be destroyed. My house will be destroyed. Your house, much nicer than mine, will also be destroyed. We may all be killed as well. Much as I want to stay in Denton, the thought of dying here because of an eruption scares the willies out of me. As I see it, we leave Denton now and try to rebuild our city, or at least our friendliness, elsewhere.”
“Nikolai, Ephraim, you are two very learned scholars,” requested Adrian, the wizard. “I have a question for you which no one has asked yet. How is this eruption going to come at us? Will the ash burst out of the volcano and cover the ground for miles all around? Will the lava overflow the crater and go everywhere?”
“I think the eruption will be confined to one direction,” explained Nikolai. “I have seen this effect elsewhere, and Ephraim agrees with me on this point. He says that there is evidence of old lava flows on the sides of the mountain, but they seem to have happened at different times. We think that the ash may fly up into the air and come back down, burying just an area close to the volcano, but deeply. The lava may only break out of the volcano in one direction. Does that answer your question?”
“Yes, thank you. I now have another question, more difficult, I imagine, but necessary for our discussion here today. If the city could be covered by a roof, would that protect it from the volcano? Is there some way to keep the ash and lava from destroying Denton?”
“A roof?” asked an astonished Ephraim. “How could anyone build a roof to cover the whole of Denton? I know you are a great wizard, Adrian, but I think you are reaching too far with this suggestion. Even as great as you are, how would you build a roof to hold up the tons of ash and lava that will come? How could you build a roof that wouldn’t burn from the heat of the lava?”
“A roof is a marvelous idea,” exclaimed Sebastian. “Travis’ house and my house would both be safe under this roof. No one would have to flee. We would be bound together even better for having faced this threat and overcome it as a whole city.”
“I want to save the city as well,” countered Harrison, “but is this practicable? Can a roof of any sort keep the city safe? What would it have to do? How could we build it?”
“We have six fully trained, highly skilled wizards at our Temple of Humoparmia,” advised Adrian. “We have experience, we know many magical feats, we have considerable mental power, which is the means of doing magic. I am thinking of using the common feat of air walls to do this. Many of you merchants travel and use air walls to guard your camps at night in the wild.
“We can turn these walls horizontal, instead of vertical, and make a roof of them. I don’t know how strong they would have to be, but we can make them very thick. That should make them able to hold any amount of weight. Even large rocks thrown out by the volcano should bounce off this roof.
“The city will be kept clear of any ash or debris falling from above. The lava can be kept away by a series of air walls that will deflect it away from Denton. Ash that falls near the city, outside the roofed area, can be removed by teams of laborers with shovels. We will have to hope that most of our farm lands are not buried. However, Denton is a wealthy city, and we can afford to import our food if we must.”
“Yes, Denton is wealthy, Adrian,” commented Harrison, “but our wealth is not unlimited. As any other professional or craftsman in Denton, you charge for your services. I do not expect you to save the city from a sense of civic-mindedness. How much will you and your wizards charge us for this roof?”
“Let us not haggle over the cost,” objected Sebastian. “We haven’t yet decided to do this. We should not let the price be a reason not to do it. I will personally put up twenty thousand moons to protect this place I love. How many of you other merchants will add to the pot? Many of you can’t match me, but you can all put something in, can’t you?”
The debate over this unusual proposal continued for hours, until well after night fell. Nothing was settled that first night, and the matter was the only subject of discussion the next day throughout Denton. At the next meeting, the following night, the roof was approved by a wide margin. The townsmen, rich and poor alike, contributed three hundred thousand moons to pay for it.
***
“That’s a good model, Cullen,” Adrian praised the younger wizard. “I remember once seeing a man trying to explain to a jeweler what sort of brooch he wanted for his wife. He couldn’t draw very well, even though he had a good idea of what he wanted. Doing an illusion of what’s in your mind is so much easier. I like your design, I think it takes all the problems into consideration.”
“Thank you, Adrian. The first part we need to build will be these green support columns. They will have to be very thick to hold everything up. Then we need to add these blue cross pieces for the roof proper to rest on. Finally the roof goes up. It slopes down to the south so the ash might slide off that way. I hate to bury the fields south of the city, but the ash must be sent in some direction. A natural slope from the volcano in the north to the fields in the south is the easiest way.
“As you can see, I propose twenty pieces for the roof. Each will have to be two thousand feet long, fifty feet thick, and one hundred feet wide. If we can’t make them fifty feet thick, I think it will still work if we make two or three thinner layers. They can’t be too thin, but I think this will do. Decker is conducting experiments, dropping large boulders on various thicknesses of air walls.”
“Can we build air walls to such large dimensions? I’ve enclosed a large camp with a wall about six hundred feet long, but it was only a few inches thick and ten feet tall. These beams of yours are much larger.”
“I’ve got Bennett working on that,” declared Cullen. “He did one yesterday that was long and wide enough, but only a foot thick. He said it was tiring, but possible. He thinks that fifty feet thick may be too much. If it can be done, he says, he’d only be able to do one a day. And he’d want a day or two off in between making each one.”
“That could be a problem. If six of us can each make one panel every two days, and we need twenty panels, then in six days we can make eighteen panels. Two of us make the last two while the other four start on the support columns. The cross pieces will be another three days. This will take almost half the month we think we have, counting the time we’ve spent designing this roof. It’ll be close, but we should be able to finish in time.”
***
The wizards put a gray tinge to the air columns so people would see them and not walk into them. A touch of blue to the roof pieces helped the wizards find them on the ground, and made the roof look like the sky above it.
The citizens of Denton cheered as the roof went up. Every piece seemed to promise perfect protection from the volcano. The wizards were paid the promised fee in a big public ceremony in the main square. Each wizard received fifty thousand moons, a fortune for even the richest merchants. No one had second thoughts about paying so much money to so few men. The work had seemed easy as the roof was going up, but everyone knew that only wizards could have done it.
Five nights later the volcano erupted. It happened in the middle of the night, when everyone was asleep. The shaking of another, stronger earthquake awoke most of the townsmen, and the explosive sound of the crater opening and spewing out its lava roused the rest. People ran out of their houses in their nightshirts, stumbling around in the streets wildly.
The panic from the first earthquakes was mild compared to what struck the city now. Dark increased the fear and uncertainty. Adults ran into the streets near their houses, children kept running until they tired. Their parents then panicked again, searching for their children in dark streets, while hearing the sounds of the eruption and expecting to be killed by ash and lava. The boulders flung from the volcano fell upon the air roof with terrifying loudness, like some gigantic hailstorm.
After several minutes they realized that there was no ash falling from the sky. No rocks being hurled from the volcano into the town. No lava flowing down the streets. They were still frightened, but rejoiced in their foresight in building the roof. People calmed the children they found far from their homes, asked them where they lived, and took them back to their parents.
The wizards flew up to inspect the underside of the roof, and came back down happy. They had detected no sagging of the roof. It was thick enough and would hold. Magic, they knew, was permanent unless dismissed. If these beams held tonight, they would hold forever.
The next morning revealed new problems for the people of Denton. It was dark as midnight inside the city. The roof was built to be transparent, and had let in plenty of sunlight yesterday. Today, covered in ash, it was dark, totally dark. And no light came from the sides of the roof, places where sunlight should have poured over the city walls.
The east gate had burned during the night from contact with a massive wall of hot lava. The lava still blocked it but was now cooling. The ash had slid off the roof, pushed by more lava. The combination now blocked the south gate, as expected. No one was worried yet, there was still the west gate. When it was opened, the people saw only a huge mound of broken rocks, dirt, and other debris. The last earthquake had shaken the side of the volcano down onto that side of Denton.
There was no way out of Denton. It was dark as night, and they were trapped. This knowledge cracked the confidence of the townsfolk. They didn’t panic, that was for merely scary events. This was a disaster without any escape. The only response was despair.
Harrison, hearing people talking about killing their children and then themselves, told them to have more faith in the Gods. He sent messengers throughout the city to call the townsfolk to another meeting, this time in the main square. The carpenters erected another platform for the speakers. The wizards roamed through the city, creating balls of fire and floating them into the air to light the city.
The square couldn’t hold all the people, but the owners of buildings facing the plaza invited as many as they could to watch from upper windows. By the time the meeting started, almost everyone in Denton was listening.
The priests of the Gods began the meeting with a request that everyone go to their personal Gods’ Temples after the meeting. They would all petition the Gods to have mercy on them and save their lives.
“Grasilos has no powers to clear a path through lava or rocky debris,” commented Ephraim. “Neither does Pronustio, nor Lesopatia, Goddess of Healing, nor Eunetia, Goddess of Marriage, nor even Death. But if we pray devoutly to them, our combined prayers may persuade them to help us. The Gods have vast powers, even if they don’t often use them to help us. Perhaps, just this once, they might.”
While he was speaking, a pair of large horse-drawn wagons pushed through the crowd. They stopped in front of the city hall, and Adrian got out of the lead wagon and walked to the platform.
“My fellow citizens of Denton, I have failed you,” he apologized. “We wizards promised to save Denton from destruction, and to save your lives. We have saved the city, but that is nothing if we will die in its undamaged streets,. Here is the money you paid us for your safety. Every mug of it. We have kept none of it because we haven’t earned it. A job only half done is not a completed job.”
The residents of Denton were amazed by this statement. Various citizens had done generous things in the past, but no one had ever given up so much money, and for nothing in return. The square echoed with cries of astonishment, praise for the wizards, and calls for magical help.
More and more people yelled out, “Can you do some magic to save us? Can you get us out of this deathtrap?”
“The only magic we have that will help save the people of Denton is our way of traveling by a magical jump. Each of us can take two people, three if one is small, out to safety in the surrounding countryside. The travel is instantaneous, but there will be some time spent joining hands with those we will take with us, and more time pointing out a safe place to go when we are outside. We have discussed this already, and believe that the six of us wizards could save perhaps five or six thousand people a day before we get exhausted.
“This is too few, we know. The scholars tell us the air we breathe out is bad to breathe in. As we breathe the good air, we will be replacing it with bad air. The air inside the city will become increasingly foul and poisonous within a few days. Our fireballs will also burn much of our good air. We will replace them with an illusion of a fireball. This will not burn the air, and will be safer for our houses, too. We don’t have weeks to spend rescuing everyone, but we wizards have a moral obligation to save all of you. We promised you we would, so we must.
“However, transporting so many people by magic will be tiring for us. You see the physical strain on a man digging a ditch, but not on a wizard working some wonder. The digger uses his physical strength, he sweats, he staggers from his labors. The wizard uses his mental strength, but he doesn’t sweat, he rarely staggers from his labors. It looks easy, effortless. Ask yourselves, though, for how long a time could you carry two people on your back? We use our minds, not our backs, and it is easier, but not that much easier.
“I have two serious answers to your question of what we can do. One of us can go magically to Upton, our rival in trade and many other matters. However, it has a school of wizardry. Even student wizards can do this travel, and dozens more wizards will make it possible to save everyone. They will not refuse our request, because this is a call on their sense of humanity, stronger than any rivalry.
“Even if we do get enough help, they will not be able to take you and your belongings. A poor man’s pouch will not weigh so much, but no large treasures, private or in Temple treasuries, can be saved. We will have no money with which to rebuild a new Denton. This money we have now returned to you will stay here, buried with the rest of the city forever.
“The other answer is that we will pray to our great Goddess Humoparmia for help. She is a stingy Goddess. She knows many types of magical feats, but She is reluctant to hand them out. She wants us to discover Her secrets by our own efforts. But She is not hard-hearted. She holds back some magic from us because She thinks we are not ready to handle it. However, our necessity may sway Her to grant us a favor. We will go pray to Her now, all night if we must. I hope to tell you better news in the morning.”
Adrian led the other wizards toward their Temple. The crowd parted politely for them, disappointed they had not offered a better answer, but hopeful that enough wizards could be found to save them. On the platform in the center of the square Harrison stepped forward to speak.
“We have been offered some mild hope from the wizards of a magical solution to our dilemma. The priests have urged all of us to pray to all the Gods, hoping to influence Them to show mercy to us. I think this is wise, but as Adrian mentioned, the Gods do not like to do our work for us. We should show Them that we are trying to save ourselves, but need additional help.
“The west gate is blocked by dirt and rocks, the products of an avalanche. We can dig this debris out, and make a tunnel to the outside. Twenty men with shovels and wheelbarrows can begin work now. Every hour another twenty men can take their places. I don’t know how long this will take, but it will work. And we can keep up our spirits by doing something we can see will work. Let us start now.”
***
After an hour, carpenters were added to the work crew, building supports to keep the debris from collapsing their tunnel. They shaped large beams to hold up strong boards, all man-handled into place by laborers, and others. The third hour saw Sebastian and other merchants helping drag beams into place. The tired men left the tunnel and went back to the Temples to join in the prayers.
Denton had a large population by the standards of its time, skilled in trade and many crafts. Very few were professional ditch diggers, and not that many were laborers. It didn’t matter, because merchants and beggars worked side by side shoveling dirt and rock, and wheeling the debris somewhere else. Their pride in their sense of community made this possible, and the shared work increased that feeling.
However, a sense of community, pride in that feeling, even the knowledge that their lives depended on their working hard and efficiently were not enough to speed the digging. After working in shifts through the night, morning showed them they had only managed to dig thirty yards through the pile of debris.
“This isn’t long enough of a tunnel,” complained one man.
“That’s because it’s too wide,” replied another.
“It has to be wide for wagons to get through. But it’s too tall,” objected another.
“Wagons are taller than people, especially if people are riding in them,” groused the first man. “We’re just going to have to work harder. Propping up the ceiling interrupts our work, but we need to do that. Who said this was going to be easy?”
An hour later they uncovered a giant boulder and had to send for some quarry men to break it up for removal. The broken pieces had to be broken small enough for one man with a barrow to carry away. Two hours of hard work finally cleared the way for the usual shoveling.
The wizards’ illusory flames provided light enough, but no sense of the passage of time. The healers at the Temple of Lesopatia kept track of time so they could give their patients medicine at regular intervals. Harrison knew that and sent youngsters to the Temple to learn the time, and run through the city announcing the hour. Late in the morning, Adrian came to Harrison and asked him to add a message to the next time announcement, a call for another public meeting at noon.
As the townsfolk gathered, hoping to hear some good news at last, the six wizards threaded their way through the crowd. They were carrying, very awkwardly, two large door frames. With some difficulty they brought them up the steps and onto the platform. They set them up one against the other. When noon was announced and people filled the square and the buildings around it, Adrian took up the strongvoice and addressed the city.
“Rejoice, people of Denton! The great Goddess Humoparmia has heard our prayers, and the petitions of the other Gods you’ve prayed to. She has given us a new magic, never before seen or imagined by humans. She warns us that She has held it back because it has some dangers of being misused. But She cannot ignore our dire straights here and now. When we are safely out of Denton, I propose we spend a full day in giving thanks to all the Gods for their help in saving us.
“These two door frames are our salvation. Humoparmia calls the two of them a ‘portal.’ Any carpenter can easily assemble the two frames. A wizard then sets them together like this, back to back. He does a magical feat which binds the two frames into one magical entity. The two halves can then be separated, but the magic will still connect them together.
“Watch closely. I have already prepared this pair. I can walk through them, like any other door. Now I take this door frame and move it to this end of the platform, and the other to the other end. I step through this frame, and come out [he paused dramatically as he entered the portal] HERE!”
There had been some talking in the crowd as he spoke, but now the square was totally silent. The people of Denton had seen him cross the platform by magic, in one door and out of another. It boggled their minds. They had seen magic of all sorts every day of their lives, but never anything like this. They gazed at Adrian and the other wizards in awe and admiration.
“You asked us to save you and Denton. We only managed to save Denton, and indeed made it a tomb for all of us. This portal, and many others like it, will save all of us, bring us all out safely from this tomb. And with our belongings, so we can rebuild a city somewhere else.”
He meant to say more, but the throng roared its jubilation exhilarantly. People tossed their hats into the air, men hugged their wives and children, men and women wept openly at hearing they were to be safe. Cries arose from all sides that the wizards had now earned their pay and should take back the money they had returned.
“No, we have given you back that money,” Adrian refused. “We had failed earlier. Our first bargain with you was to save you and Denton, as a package. Not one, not the other, but both together. We failed in that, which is why we returned the money. All we managed to do was to save Denton as an uninhabitable mockery of a city. We have also now saved you, but as a homeless population. You wanted both in one package, and we can’t give you that. I’m sorry. I am very sorry.
“You are safe, or will be within hours as you leave Denton. You will have to find new homes in other towns. The money we returned will help you buy land to rebuild. The rich have money to do this, but most people of Denton can’t afford to build new houses somewhere else. This money will help.”
More shouts of joy rang through the square. Many tried to mount the platform to hug and kiss the wizards. One was Sebastian, chief priest of Pronustio. He tried to speak to Adrian over the noise.
“You said wizards could carry us out magically, but not our possessions. Can we bring our belongings out with us with these portals?”
“Yes, I see no reason why we can’t. I would recommend that we rescue all the people first, and then some adults can go back in to get their personal belongings. Even a poor man has a table and benches in his hovel, a pouch with a few coins hidden somewhere. After we are safely out, we can come back in with wagons to remove everything any of us values.”
“Then, I will add to your gift to Denton,” announced Sebastian. “The Temple of Pronustio guards the wealth of most of the merchants of Denton. I will call a special meeting of all of us, and propose that we give most of this money to the city, for the same purpose of rebuilding a new city. Can these portals be made large enough to allow wagons to pass through?”
“Yes, we only brought a small portal with us to demonstrate how it works. We have carpenters making several large enough to accommodate wagons. We will set them up all over the city, so people will have easy access to them. The other halves will be placed in fields out beyond the avalanche area. Harrison, can you and some other town officials help us pick a good place to move the population to?”
***
The door frames were simple to build and the carpenters worked diligently and speedily. Laborers helped the wizards bring the frames to the various neighborhoods of the city, and set them up. The wizard took one half and jumped to the fields to which the city was moving. Within five minutes, people were pouring through, looking up at a clear, sunny sky and weeping with joy.
By late at night the entire population of Denton had abandoned the city. The wizards built light air wall roofs over the extensive campgrounds they now lived in. The city watch was charged with guarding the portals so no one could go into the empty city and loot it.
At dawn on the first day outside Denton, the priests of all the Gods went back into the city with wagons and laborers. They delicately removed the statues of their Gods and brought them out to the fields. The statues were assembled as a giant Temple for all of the Gods. The day of thanking the Gods which Adrian had suggested was beginning, and would last until dark.
The days that followed were busy, but joyful for people who had recently seen themselves as dead. The Temple treasuries, and city treasury were brought out in wagons and surrounded by tall air walls to keep thieves out. Individual citizens went back into the city to get their belongings.
Harrison and other city officials, together with many of the priests, went from town to town for fifty miles around, looking for one that would accept the whole population of Denton as immigrants. Fairlea, not a very old or large town, saw benefit to a large influx of people who loved one another. It had room for expansion, and plenty of farmland. And the newcomers would bring much wealth, too.
The move to Fairlea took time, as houses had to be built for everyone. Sebastian insisted that all the houses should be simple, easily built, and cheap enough that everyone could have a decent house without using up all his money.
“I’m happy to live in a simple house, for now,” he told the other merchants. “If I prosper here, as I plan to do, I can build a larger, more magnificent house. If I don’t prosper, a fancy house will be a shame to my poverty.”
When everything seemed to be complete, the wizards were going to remove the portals. Harrison suggested they should wait.
“Ephraim, chief of Grasilos’ scholars wants to set up a memorial to you wizards, a reminder of all that happened in Denton. It will be a long series of panels inscribed with the history of these last few weeks. He will set up one in the Temple of Grasilos here in Fairlea, and another inside Denton. He wants anyone who goes into the city in the future to know its history and the names of those who saved it. You may not want the reward for saving us and Denton, but you can’t escape our gratitude.”
***
[This part of the story begins about three years after the war, and about eight years after the rogues arrived in Uslar.]
The mountain was an old volcano, but it showed no signs of having erupted in a very long time. There was no lava visible as they approached it, nor hills of volcanic ash. They climbed up a long slope wrapped around the mountain’s base. It was all packed soil, not solid rock, as if an ancient landslide had occurred here. At the top of the slope they found a small trickle of water coming from a large pile of dirt, tree trunks, and other debris. Coming over the top of the slope they saw this was a large dam, really a series of dams, built by beavers.
Behind the dams was a lake half a mile wide and a couple of miles long. Vince halted his horse by the edge of the lake and dismounted. He let the reins drop as the horse walked to the water and began drinking. The others did the same and stretched their limbs. Betsy took a sack from their pack horse and pulled some meat and bread out. Horace turned to Ben and Polly and smiled at them.
“Stop complaining, you two. You need a break, a real break, from all your work. It’s been five years since I found the elves, and you found Grarnihorn’s library. You both worked full time, every day, at learning magic before that. Since then, you’ve continued working. Learning new skills, teaching students, helping win the war, working with your students to set up new schools across Orilon.
“You need to rest for a while. When was the last time you had nothing to do, Ben? Lugau? The day before you got your first grimoire? Even when you couldn’t read it, you kept looking at it, hoping it would suddenly talk to you. Have you had even one day off since you found the Treatise, Ben? You ain’t no better, Polly. Ah admire your devotion to your studies, to your Goddess, to helping others; but you need to rest every so often. Go for a ride. Explore the world. See what a nice place Orilon is.”
“I know, I know,” blushed an embarrassed Ben. “I used to be the laziest shepherd anywhere, and that’s saying something. Now it seems there’s so much to do I can’t take a break. All those things you mentioned, and I have to do it all. I don’t really. My students can, and do, handle a lot of the work of the school and the Temple. Polly keeps telling me this, too. So, please, keep mocking my complaints. I really should be enjoying this.”
“Horace is right,” continued Jenny. “We told you we’d only spend two weeks on the road, and you said you would be fine with that. We’re only a week out and you’ve been bitching for three days already. Joan can do everything at your school that you do, including teach. She isn’t the little girl with a broken leg anymore. She’s been studying with you for six years, after all. Look at this beautiful lake, that nice big mountain over there….”
“And the dark storm clouds moving in,” added Betsy. “We should make camp here for tonight. We have water and a fairly flat space for our tents. I don’t want to be caught in the open when the storm breaks.”
Despite their prosperity, the rogues had not gotten soft. They all rode regularly, even Ben and Polly, if only for an hour or two a day. Every day saw them at weapons practice, especially since their children were getting big enough to handle light wooden swords. But prosperity did bring tents for sleeping, and servants to help set them up. Derek and Marcus were actually young students at Ben’s school, and worked at the mansion to cover their school costs. They appreciated the chance to travel with Ben and Polly, hoping for special instruction, or at least some attention.
Ben and Polly looked at the gathering clouds and began building the party a magical shelter from the rain. Walls of compacted air supported a roof of the same walls, turned horizontal. The tents were not really necessary, but they were getting used to luxury in their travels. Ben went out in the late afternoon and returned in an hour with several rabbits.
“We haven’t had these in so long,” remembered Jenny. “Thanks, Ben, for a reminder of the early days.”
“You’re welcome. It was good to stop thinking about the school, and just have fun.”
***
The storm broke shortly after they had finished dinner. Hard rain came driving down, beating on the invisible roof over their camp as they went to bed. Lightning flashed over and over, followed by loud rumbles of thunder. One bright flash struck not far from their camp, with a particularly strong crash of thunder. As its sound faded, another took its place, the noise of a fast moving river, very close by.
Vince came out of his tent and looked into the dark. He couldn’t see anything, but the sound was near and loud. Another flash of lightning showed him the source of the noise. The lightning bolt had destroyed the beavers’ dams and the lake was emptying, the water flowing rapidly down the slope of the hill. He woke the others, and they watched the lake drain for a while. With half the lake gone, they went back to bed, curious about what they’d find in the morning.
They found nothing. No lake. No river draining the water from the lake. No sloping trail down to the base of the mountain; it had been washed away overnight. Ben floated out over the former lake to drop one of Dolores’ spigots into one of the few pools left. That provided them with some buckets with water for breakfast.
“It’s fairly clean,” noted Polly, “and will clear some more if we let it sit for a while. I think we have enough for now. I can make a watering trough with air walls, and we can fill it for the horses.”
“Leave for where?” asked Derek. “The path we came up is gone now.”
“There’ll be some other way to get back to the west,” replied Vince. “There’s almost always another way to get where you want to go.”
“Look at the bottom of the slope,” indicated Horace, standing on the edge of the hilltop. “It looks like there’s a hole or a cave there. A cave, maybe, because Ah think Ah see some stone there.”
Ben and Polly went to join Horace and looked down where he pointed. Ben passed a mental note to Polly and she nodded. They both began refocusing their eyes to magnify what they were seeing.
“It’s not a cave, Horace,” countered Ben. “I can see shaped stones. It’s a gateway. Like the entrance to a city or a castle. Congratulations! You’ve discovered something hidden for centuries!”
“Wow! Let’s go down and take a look,” replied Horace.
“How are we going to do that?” asked Jenny. “The flood that washed that entrance clear also washed out the path we took to get up here. It’s all very muddy and uneven. Our horses are going to slip in the mud, stumble over the exposed rocks, and probably get hurt badly.”
“And you laughed when Ben wanted to bring a portal with us,” Polly gloated. “It was very handy for crossing the Fawn River, and that swamp we almost fell into. Marcus, you need some practice floating, so take this door frame, float down to that gateway, and set it up against the wall there. Derek, you can put some pegs into the supports for this half to hold it up. Thank you.”
“Can we just leave our stuff here?” asked Betsy. “Just because we haven’t seen anyone for days, it doesn’t mean no one will come along.”
“There’s plenty of grass here for the horses,” remarked Ben. “Air walls around the camp, and everything is safe and secure. I don’t see any reason to worry.”
***
It took a few minutes to make their arrangements. The improvised trough had to be moved to the center of a large patch of fresh grass, the horses had to be moved there as well, and the wizards had to build the air walls around it and their gear.
“Armor?” asked Polly.
“Rule number one of adventuring,” explained Vince, “is always assume that some new, strange place is dangerous, so wear your armor. If that is a buried city or castle, there shouldn’t be anything alive in it. The rule still applies. Your armor protects you from some of the damage from a falling stone, not just from swords. Derek, Marcus, stay behind us and you should be all right. Oh, and please watch our backs.”
Ben went through the portal first and lit a large illusory flame in the air over their heads. Its light showed them the walls of a stone gateway twenty feet wide, with badly rusted stubs of hinges sticking from the sides, and corroded bands of metal on the ground. A stone-lined tunnel extended fifty feet, opening to a dark space beyond. A narrow doorway on each side gave access to stairs going up.
Ben looked up one staircase, hesitated, and shook his head. He kept on straight ahead, moving the flame as he went. As he stepped out of the tunnel, the light showed a large number of buildings lining ancient streets. A small plaza by the gate led to streets radiating out in various directions. A six foot tall wall stretched across the plaza. Ben moved forward a few steps to let the others see what he was looking at. The other wizards put their own flames overhead too.
An entire city, obviously very old, with intact buildings, streets, everything. Down every street was a line of mounded dirt and rock in front of every house, leaving only the doorways clear. Ben floated his elf light up and up over their heads. Two hundred feet above them it bounced against a ceiling. Ben adjusted his eyesight, and looked closely at the lit area.
“It’s a ceiling made from air walls,” he told the others. “I can see through the compacted air at the bottom of the debris it’s holding up. It looks exceptionally thick, but it would have to be to hold so much weight.”
“What is this place?” asked Horace in awe.
“I don’t know,” answered Jenny. “But it looks very old, and untouched. But what’s all this debris from?”
“And why is there a wall across this plaza?” Betsy asked. “It doesn’t look right. It would make this plaza hard to use. It blocks off that street into the center of town entirely. Why?”
“It’s a series of panels, and they’ve got something carved into them,” noticed Vince. “There’s a lot of text, but the letters are all filled with dust. Derek, run back to our camp and bring a few soft horse brushes down here. They should clear the letters without damaging them.”
A few minutes later they were brushing the panels and revealing the text. After cleaning three panels, they went back to the first one to read what was written. As they read along, they cleaned more panels, until the whole text was readable.
“Wow!” exclaimed Polly. “This is amazing. ‘The History of the End of Denton, and the Saving of its People.’ Now we know what this place is. Ben, these wizards were great heroes. All their names, right here, honored for all time.”
“And a fitting tribute to Humoparmia as well,” observed Ben. “She gave them a new magic, portals, in order to help these people escape. They used the very first portals. Wow! And She warned them about their possible misuse, a thing I worried about at first, until Walter and Mandy found a way to make them safe.”
“Can we find their original portals somewhere here, do you think?” asked Marcus.
“They would have been wooden, like ours,” commented Vince. “The date on these panels says the city was abandoned a thousand years ago. Those portals rotted long ago, if they weren’t moved somewhere else.”
“So, we’re now in possession of a complete ancient city,” whispered Jenny in awe.
“In possession, as in owning?” asked Betsy. “Surely somebody else has a legal claim to this city. Some nobleman or the ruler of this realm. Are we still in Taril? Have we crossed into Radalis?”
“Whoever owns this land doesn’t know about the city,” replied Vince. “We didn’t know about it until the flood waters washed the entrance clear. For the time being, until we tell someone about it, this really does belong to us.”
“By all the Gods, we’re rich!” exclaimed Marcus. “A whole city full of all sorts of wealth, all ours. We can use the portal to bring it all back to Uslar. We can buy whatever we want! Hurray for us!”
“Think of all the money in the Temple treasuries,” added Derek. “Jeweler’s shops, all kinds of shops, merchants’ mansions with their wealth piled up in some vault. Piles of gold and silver! Bracelets, necklaces, rings!”
“I hate it when my students prove they can’t read,” grumbled Ben. “It says right here, halfway down this last panel, they took everything of value out of Denton. Everything. We might find a stray coin or bauble someone dropped, but that’s it.”
“Then what good is this place?” asked Marcus. “A lot of empty buildings, no loot, nothing of interest anywhere. All right, it’s nice to see the magical roof. But what else is there here?”
“It’s an ancient city,” Horace informed him with respect. “A place that ain’t been rebuilt a dozen times. This is what architecture looked like a thousand years ago. You all know my interest in buildings. This here is like a feast spread out for me. The scholars of Grasilos will love this place, too. Kin we go farther in and see more of it?”
They walked slowly down the street, admiring the intricate carvings on the stone buildings. The street was thirty feet wide and covered in a deep layer of dust. The first few buildings had seemed to be intact, but as they looked closer, they couldn’t see any buildings with roofs.
Every so often the found a brick building with some white splotches on its facade. Looking closer, they discovered that the brick buildings had been covered in plaster. Very little of the plaster had survived, and there was no sign that it had been painted, or how.
They saw no wooden buildings, but many brick chimneys showed where these had stood. Some buildings had entirely fallen down, probably, they thought, from the earthquake. Nothing wooden had survived the ages. Wooden rafters had let roofs collapse. Wooden stairs were gone, even in stone buildings, leaving upper mezzanines cut off from access. Wooden doors were gone, leaving every building open, and they stepped into a few of the buildings.
Many had nothing inside but the ruins of the upper floors. Roofs, collapsing, had fallen onto top stories, which had also collapsed. Each floor added to the weight falling on the floor below, and all ended up at ground level or in a cellar. Some better built houses still had upper floors, but the rogues didn’t want to take a chance on the safety of the old stone staircases.
Plain stone benches and tables were the only furniture left. Many houses were decorated with large statues, apparently too big to have been removed when the owners fled. Niches in the walls showed where smaller statues must have stood. A very few particularly fine mansions had mosaics on the walls or in the floors.
They saw several shops with a rusted iron grill stretched across their facades, anchored into the stone walls. They may have belonged to jewelers, but no trace remained of what was sold in them.
Finally they reached a large open area. In any major city it would be the central plaza, market square, the hub of all official activity. A large statue of a man in old-fashioned armor on horseback stood just off center in the plaza. Nearby, balancing him in the design of the square, was a large fountain, dry as the dust filling it. The plaza was lined with large stone buildings, extravagantly carved in the local style. Some might have been official buildings, some might have been residences for the richest and most important residents. Others were obviously temples.
As was appropriate for a rich city, the Temple of Pronustio was the most ornate and prominent, sitting by itself in the center of one side of the plaza. Balancing it across the plaza was the large Temple of Grasilos, with separate wings for its museums and libraries. Temples to the Gods and Goddesses of Healing, Hospitality, Marriage, Justice. At the end of the row was the plain black Temple of Death.
The rogues stood looking in awe at the marvelous buildings around the square. They appeared to be in better condition than many of the stone buildings they had already seen.
“They look undamaged, almost all of them,” marveled Betsy. “Do you suppose they built these to a better standard than they built their houses?”
“These are the houses for the Gods, so yes,” suggested Horace. “Perhaps they didn’t use wooden supports for the roofs on these On my travels, Ah’ve seen all-stone construction of roofs in a few places. That Temple of Marriage has a dome that looks perfect. Nothing rotted under it.”
***
“You four can stay and inspect this square,” announced Ben. “I want to look for the Temple of Humoparmia. There were wizards here, so there must be a Temple.
He, Polly, and their students set off, “sensing” for a portrait of Humoparmia, and symbols for magic.
Half a mile from the center of the city they came upon an attractive building of green stone with Humoparmia’s name carved into its pediment. They went in expectantly and Ben’s spirit drooped almost as soon as he was inside.
“She’s not here,” he sighed, glumly. “I can feel Her presence in our Temple, and in the shrines Pondalon and Otolengu have built. I don’t feel Her in this place.”
“I don’t either, Ben” agreed Jenny. “But this was Her Temple. Look over there, that’s the sanctuary. Her name is above the entrance, outside. Why isn’t She here?”
They walked through the Temple, looking into every room. There was no furniture of course, and only badly rusted kettles in the kitchen. They came upon a large room with a mosaic filling one wall, showing men and women reading books.
“This must have been their library,” Polly noted, “but it’s just as bare as the other rooms. I can understand the tables, chairs, even the shelves rotting from time. But the books should have been bound in dragon hide, shouldn’t they? That should have protected them from decay, even over centuries.”
“The panels said everyone took everything of value with them when they left. I think the wizards took their books, too,” countered Ben. “Why wouldn’t they? Even if it’s no longer a Temple, we can still go to the sanctuary and pray.”
The wizards began the prayers to greet Humoparmia, prayers they said every day in their own Temple. A surprised voice sounded in the minds of Ben and Polly, and their students.
No one has worshiped Me here in a very long time, over a thousand years. Are you going to reconsecrate this Temple, Ben?
“No, Dear Goddess, this city is now dead. No one lives here anymore, or is likely to, ever again. We read about the wizards who worshiped You here and who saved their fellow citizens, with Your help. We wanted to see this Temple where they prayed to You. We also want to add our thanks to theirs for that long-forgotten favor.”
Ah, yes, Adrian. The most honorable wizard who ever lived. Take him into your hearts and be guided by his example. He cared about his neighbors. He didn’t flee the destruction of this city, though he could have. He stayed and helped them all flee. Remember that in dealing with people who need your skills.
***
Back in the central square, Ben explained what they had found, and what Humoparmia had told them.
“I’ve never heard her speak before,” whispered Derek with awe. “I feel humbled. I’m just a student, not even a full wizard yet.”
“She was teaching all of us a lesson,” decided Polly. “You and Marcus came with us hoping for special instruction. You just got it.”
“Well, let’s head back to our camp,” suggested Horace. “Was you thinking of doing one of your magical jumps to get home now?”
“No, this is a very nice discovery, and I want to savor it,” observed Ben. “It’s made me glad I took this trip. We might come back again tomorrow to look around some more. Then we’ll have to report this discovery to some nobleman.”
They walked back toward the city gate and had almost reached the small plaza in front of it when they saw a problem.
“Oh, my,” warned Betsy. “Up ahead, coming this way. Mama bear and two cubs. It’s late in the year; maybe they’re looking for a place to hibernate. In any case, they look truculent, and hungry. These aren’t just bears, either. These are fine examples of the Great Bear, bigger, stronger, and meaner than any other bears. Get ready for a tough fight.”
“Horace, take on one of the cubs,” directed Vince. “Try to kill it quickly so you can help the rest of us. Betsy, you and Ben take on the other cub. Polly, stay behind and between Jenny and me, poking away at mama bear. We need to keep her from protecting her cubs, so keep jabbing at her to distract her. You students, keep out of the way, if you can.”
“Don’t think this is going to be easy just because your weapon is sharp,” advised Betsy. “They have a thick coat, and massive bodies. Our swords can cut them, but we’re going to have trouble lopping off their limbs. Try to cripple them, especially their front legs, so they can’t get too close to us. Here we go!”
They fanned out, trying to get into positions to attack their targets. Mama bear also maneuvered herself to keep between her cubs and danger. Polly’s first thrust into her right front leg attracted her attention, however, and she turned toward Polly, Vince, and Jenny.
Horace, seeing her turn away from him, moved quickly toward the cub on her left. It wasn’t some cute, cuddly little ball of brown fur, but an adolescent bear as large as many adult bears of other breeds. Horace walked straight at the bear, then stepped to its side and swung his axe as he went past it. Blood spurted from a great wound in its neck, and it bellowed in pain and outrage.
Mama bear turned her head when she heard her cub’s cry. She tried to come to its aid, but Vince crossed from her right to her left side, taking Jenny’s place. He shoved his shield in the bear’s face and slashed at her left front leg. The blow drew blood, but not as much as he had expected. The bear beat his shield with her right front leg, knocking Vince back ten feet.
Polly had closed on the bear, moving to its rear when Vince went past her, and stuck her spear into the right rear leg. Jenny followed her and stabbed deep into the bear’s side. The mother bear stopped moving toward Horace and turned to face the Jenny and Polly again.
On her other side, Betsy and Ben were hacking at the other cub from opposite sides. Despite its heavy fur and thick muscles, the bear was badly wounded. One more blow from Ben crippled its right front leg for good, and it rolled onto its back. Betsy jumped in close and thrust her sword into the bear’s gut. A strong pull brought the sword all the way forward from groin to rib cage, cutting through its intestines. The cub shook in agony and died.
Horace had taken three steps away from his cub, and now came back with a new attack. He had thought about this for just a moment, but he thought it would be effective. He brought his axe straight down on the bear’s back, just behind its head. If he hit a vertebra, the axe would bounce up and do little damage, despite being extra sharp. But if he could hit between two vertebrae, the bear would die. He was lucky, the bear was not.
Vince rushed back into the fight in time to take another hard blow from Mama bear’s left front leg, one aimed at Jenny. Vince fell to the floor, but kept his shield in place above him. Jenny, seeing Vince cross in front of her to stop the bear’s blow, swung at the bear’s leg. Her slash cut half-way through the leg, and the bear bellowed loudly.
Polly, still at the bear’s rear, thrust her spear as hard as she could into its side. She saw the point go in deep, but the bear kept fighting. She pulled the spear out and thrust again. She hit bone and the spear shook from the impact.
By this time, all six rogues were attacking the bear from all sides. Horace’s axe took off half of the bear’s left front foot. Vince and Jenny each gave it a serious wound to the upper body and head. Betsy and Ben went behind it to attack its rear legs. Polly gave one more thrust into the bear’s side and found a space between the ribs. The bear roared, stood up, towering over them, and collapsed.
“Was that you, Polly?” asked Jenny, admiringly. “Good shot! Wonderful job!”
“I was just trying to hit the heart, without knowing where it was in a bear,” admitted Polly. “I finally got lucky.”
“We’ve got a lot of bear meat here,” declared Betsy, “and bear meat is really good. We’re going to have a good feast tonight.”
Ben checked them all for wounds, but found nothing serious on any of them.
“I’m sorry about your bruises, Vince,” he apologized, “ but I can’t do anything about them.”
“Sure you can,” explained Polly. “A bruise is just a cut that isn’t open. I fell off my horse last year and bruised my leg badly. I had it healed in no time. Here, let me show you. Take that byrnie all the way off, Vince, so I can get at your back.”
“World’s greatest wizard, and my wife knows more about magic than I do,” grumbled Ben with a facetious smile. “Derek, Marcus, are you paying attention? You’re still in school.”
“What’re we gonna do with all this meat?” asked Horace. “Bears this big are going to be too heavy for us to move. We kin cut them up, but that’s still a whole lot of meat to carry. I don’t know if we kin pack it out on our horses, and it’ll spoil before we git it home.”
“The portal is just beyond the gate here,” Ben reminded him. “We can dismember the bears, and the eight of us can carry the pieces through the portal to our camp. Bring this portal up to the top, transfer it to the mansion, and get some of our servants to carry it home for us.
“No, wait, that’s still too much work. What’s the point of knowing magic if you’re still going to work hard? Marcus, jump to our Temple, get a wide portal set and have someone get a wagon ready. Set the portal up there, and bring the other half down here, onto this street. We can load the wagon here and save ourselves some work. Joan can put the meat into one of Emmet’s large preservation boxes, and it will stay fresh until we get home. We can dump the inedible parts outside and animals will scavenge them. Vince, could you please cut us some nice, juicy steaks for dinner tonight?”
“I don’t know how princes and nobles and rich people manage without wizards,” laughed Jenny. “Ben can’t do anything the wizards in his stories do. He can’t give us weapons that cut through mail, he can’t make our horses run at top speed all day and not get tired, he can’t create gold and silver out of nothing. Who cares? He can move anything he wants anywhere he wants. He can preserve our food as long as he wants. And listen to him plan. Is this the simple shepherd boy who didn’t think he could lead people? Ben, you’re a wonder, and I’m glad you’re our friend.”
***
Three hours later the bear meat was safely stored in the mansion’s pantry, the hides were at the tanner’s shop, the waste material was scattered five miles away for scavengers. Marcus returned the wide portal half and jumped back with a cask of their favorite beer. As a finishing touch, Derek and Marcus built an air wall to keep more bears out of the ruin.
It was late afternoon and the travelers were sitting around a large campfire, built from leftovers of the beavers’ dams. It was somewhat wet and smokey, but they wanted a nice hot fire to cook their bear steaks. They toasted their good fortune at the day’s discovery and talked about what any scholars might be able to do with the city.
As they talked, they noticed a large number of riders coming their way from the north at a moderate pace. Coming closer the riders were obviously warriors, clad in decent scale armor, and armed with swords and shields.
“Good day to you, gentles,” greeted their leader. “I am Winston, captain of this troop of Baron Voslarien’s army. We saw the smoke from your fire and I wanted to check it out and make sure it wasn’t a forest fire. Very few people travel through here. Even we are just taking a short cut back to the baron’s castle.
“You’re quite welcome to camp here, as long as you don’t start a forest fire, of course. Or do any other serious damage to, well, anything. I suppose a camp doesn’t harm anything, but this lake does provide… Wait! Where’s the lake? What’s happened to the lake? There should be a large lake right there. What have you done with it?”
“There was a big storm last night,” Vince divulged. “A lightning bolt seems to have hit the beaver dam that made the lake. The dam burst, and almost all the water has flowed out. Didn’t bother us any, except for the noise. But it washed out the slope we rode up from down below. And it washed away a lot of debris that was hiding the entrance to a buried city down there.”
“A buried city? There can’t be. I’ve lived around here all my life, and would know if there was a city here. And how could a city get buried?”
“Some ancient avalanche seems to have covered it in dirt and rock,” explained Ben. “Ancient wizards put a magical roof over it to protect it, but the city was still buried. Come with me, and we’ll show it to you. Bring your men, too. They won’t ever see anything like this again, and they can brag about seeing it to their friends.”
Ben introduced them to the portal, which amazed them. Then he showed them the hidden city, still lit by his elf lights, and that amazed them even more. He warned them not to wander off exploring because the structures might fall in on them. One man picked up a handful of dust from the street and poured it into his pouch as a souvenir.
Back on top of the hill, Winston told Vince, “I have to report this to Baron Voslarien, and he will probably want to see it at once. Which means, tomorrow really. Please don’t leave until he comes. He’ll want to go down and see this and talk to you, too. Will you stay?”
“Yes, we had planned on staying for a few days, at least,” agreed Vince. Winston thanked him and led his men off toward the east and home, everyone chattering excitedly about what they had seen.
***
Three hours after dawn they saw a procession coming from the east. There were several dozen riders, some in armor, but most were dressed in rich clothes. Three wagons followed behind, with men dressed in livery walking alongside.
Winston rode out ahead of the column as it approached the rogues’ camp. He dismounted, smiled, and waved his arm toward the parade.
“You are to be greatly honored today. Not only are Baron Voslarien and some prominent people from Rowley coming to see this marvel but Count Muppelonian, his overlord, and His Royal Highness, Prince Aranondio as well. The Count’s second son is marrying the Baron’s only daughter. His Royal Highness was on a progress around his realm, and happened to be nearby. He thought to honor the newlyweds with his presence, and now wants to see the wonder of the age.”
“Should we jump home and put on some fancier clothes?” asked Polly.
“No,” advised Jenny. “Never let nobles know you can afford to dress better than they can. It embarrasses them and they will resent it.”
“There’s an awful lot of people coming,” noticed Ben. “Derek, Marcus, grab this portal and its mate down in the city and take them home. Bring the big portal from home back again, and set it up here. We’ll need a wide entrance to accommodate this crowd.”
The rogues moved forward and Winston introduced the nobles, their wives, children, and the newlywed couple. Ben introduced his companions as a group of friends from Uslar, with connections to the merchants there, and to the local count. He said they were simply traveling for pleasure and happened upon this hilltop and lake by chance. By the time the introductions and small talk were finished, Marcus and Derek had completed the erection of the new wide portal.
“Your Royal Highness, my lords and ladies,” Vince recounted, “we came here the other day, riding up a gentle slope to your right, past an extremely large beaver dam. The dam held in a considerable lake, parts of which you can still see here. That night, in a storm, lightning hit the dam and broke it. The water poured out all night long. At dawn, looking at the ruin of the slope we had come up, we saw an opening. We went down, using a portal as you will soon do, and saw the most wonderful sight imaginable. A city lost under a mountain of debris, hidden away for centuries.”
“This portal is a magical device which anyone can use,” explained Ben. “I know some wizards who are now installing them to let people travel from one town to another in ease and comfort, and quickly. Please follow me. When you step through this door, you will step out of another door down below. The two doors are connected by magic. We will travel instantly and safely. Don’t give this another thought.”
With that last phrase, Ben added a touch of his persuasion skill, He had decided he wanted to be anonymous with these unknown nobles. If he could persuade them that the magical items they would see were ordinary, they might not think about who he was. They could even think he was a wizard, just not Ben, the famous wizard.
Ben beckoned to the Prince as he went forward, and Aranondio followed, a bit reluctantly, but he didn’t want to seem afraid, either. Winston went with them, and then came back, to show that it was safe. The others were encouraged by the rogues to follow along, and did so.
Ben had forgotten that the larger portal had been set up in the first place to haul off the bear meat. The spilled blood from killing the bears had been covered over earlier with a few shovels of dust. The dust helped, but the ground was still wet and messy.
“We killed some large bears here last night, and used a wagon earlier to remove the meat,” he said.
He realized too late that he was talking too much about using magic, and hoped no one would catch on. He didn’t know if he could trust these people not to try to control him, or if they would treat him as some fabulous celebrity to idolize. Both fates scared him. He was relieved to find they were all reading the panels with the story of Denton.
Ben led the dozens of nobles, attendants, and servants into the central plaza. They spread out to admire the ancient buildings, and Ben gave his warning about the risk of going into a building. Two men who seemed to be neither noble nor servant approached Ben, one about forty years old, the other much older, with a long white beard.
“That other man, Vince, said we should speak to you,” mentioned the younger. “My name is Marcellus, and this is Antonio. We are scholars from the Temple of Grasilos in Rowley. That’s the nearest town. We can tell that this building is one of our Temples, but Vince thinks it may not be safe to go into it. He said to ask you if you could let us inside safely.”
“The Temples seem to have been better built than the other structures,” answered Ben, “but I’ll have to take a quick look to see if there are any obvious dangers. You have to remember, these buildings are very old, and have had no maintenance for centuries. And the panels near the gate tell us that everything of value was removed when the people fled.”
He went into the large Temple through a wide empty doorway. He thought about the double doors he had seen on other Temples to Grasilos, always welcoming visitors who wished to learn something. The doorway was flanked by traditional carvings of scholars reading, writing, measuring things, and looking at the sky.
In the center, straight ahead of the doorway, was the Temple’s sanctuary. He glanced inside and saw no major damage or risk. To the left of the door was the library, marked by the carvings of people reading. Inside, there was nothing. No shelves, no books, no tables, no chairs. Deep drifts of dust were all that remained.
On the other side of the Temple, Ben found its museum. Again, no tables, seats, nothing made of wood or cloth survived. There was, in fact, nothing in the room at all.
A staircase led to an upper floor, but a large block of stone had fallen onto it from the ceiling, Three treads were badly cracked, and one broken, where the block had landed. Ben looked at the damage from below, then floated himself up for a closer look. After examining it, he continued floating up to see the second floor.
“You may safely visit the rooms on the first floor,” Ben told the scholars when he returned. “Unfortunately, all the books have turned to dust. There is nothing left of the library. The museum is also empty. A large chunk of stone fell onto the stairs from the ceiling, and has damaged the stairs. If you want to see the upper floor, my wife and I can fly you up to it.”
He turned at a sound behind him and saw the young bride and groom standing there. Behind them stood Horace, who was still talking to Wirmonalio, the count’s son. Eppravinto, his new wife, had turned away from Horace’s lecture on architecture and was listening to Ben’s last words with a puzzled look on her face.
Ben, wondering how much she had heard, quickly ushered the two scholars into the Temple. He walked with them through the empty rooms. He asked Polly to help float the two scholars up to the second floor for a quick look at it.
“Don’t mention this to the others,” he told them. “This was just a favor to you. I have had much help in my life from scholars and like to repay their favors to other scholars.”
Back in the plaza again, they found the nobles had finished looking at the city. They did not seem to have exhausted their curiosity, but the risk of satisfying it seemed to outweigh the pleasure. Many of the servants were already gone and Ben couldn’t see Derek or Marcus. As the party wandered out through the portal, Ben and Polly stayed behind to check for strays with their sensing abilities.
They came out onto the hilltop to see a feast spread out on rows of tables. They were bewildered until Derek came up to explain.
“The Baron lives closest to here, and it’s his daughter who got married, and he wanted to continue the celebration with the Count and the Prince, so he had his servants load up a bunch of tables and some food in those wagons they brought with them. Marcus and I asked them about that, and decided that a little more food and drink wouldn’t hurt, so we went back to Uslar for more supplies. We set up a portal, then took it back ‘cause you said you didn’t want them to see too many portals. Is this all right with you, master?”
“You only call me ‘master’ when you think you’ve done something wrong. I wouldn’t have given an order for this, but you did well. Thank you for thinking of it. I’ll try to hide the obvious magical explanation. More work for me, but the idea is commendable. Thank you, again.”
The servants had set up two tables end to end to make a high table for the nobles and their wives. The other tables were set up perpendicular to the high table so the nobles’ retainers and townsmen could see the nobles. The rogues and wizards were given a table right in front of the Prince, in the center of the high table.
The feast was splendid, exceeding everyone’s expectations for a country picnic. The Prince and his wife were impressed by the quality of the wine, the Count was impressed by how grand a feast his Baron could provide, the Baron was surprised at all the food and drink, especially as he didn’t know his pantry held any bear. One of his servants informed him that the strangers had somehow provided the bear and some other viands.
“I”d like to thank these strangers for adding to our feast today,” acknowledged Baron Voslarien. “I suppose they felt it necessary to make up for taking some things from my hidden city earlier.”
“Your hidden city! How is this city yours?” asked Count Muppelonian angrily. “And what did they take from it? They’ve only been here a day or two. Here’s their camp. Show me what they’ve taken out!”
“They said they had a wagon to cart off the bear meat,” Voslarien replied. “But here’s the bear meat on our platters. They must have used the wagon to take something of great value from this ancient city. Just think about what wonders there must be down there. They should be punished for theft, but I’ll give them some leniency for this good bear meat. I still want the return of the stolen items, or they will be punished.”
Prince Aranondio laughed aloud. “You are a decent man, Voslarien, but too provincial. Don’t you ever hear the news from the rest of Orilon? A man introduces himself to you as Ben, from Uslar, which is in Taril. Just a few years ago Taril was invaded by Mittanolo of Phada. He was totally defeated by an army trained by a bunch of rogues, including a red-headed woman and a large man with an axe. Look around, here, at these people.
“His army was hampered by a wizard who threw illusions in his path, brought armies from all over Taril to the battlefield with magic, and had his personal tame dragon devour half the Phadian army. And that wizard’s name was Ben. Isn’t that right, Master Ben?”
“Not quite, Your Royal Highness,” corrected Ben, embarrassed. “The dragon was an illusion, too, and didn’t eat anyone. I was trying to hide myself here today. When I was young I wanted fame, then I became famous. Now I dread the attention of fame. So I prefer to be called just ‘Ben,’ not ‘Master’ or any other title. I would like to be Ben the nice guy who does favors for his friends. The reality is that I’m Ben the nice wizard who can do such wildly amazing things that everyone has to drool all over me.
“Voslarien, the bear meat was all we took from the city. My students brought some back to help feed this throng. That is all.”
“Fine, fine,” said Count Muppelonian. “But where do you get the idea that this city belongs to you, Voslarien? You are my Baron. You hold this land at my pleasure. I can take it from you at any time for almost any reason. I think that makes this city mine.”
“And whose vassal are you, Muppelonian?” asked Prince Aranondio mildly. “As Prince, I own all the land in Radalis. My ancestors parceled it out to dukes and counts and barons. I retain certain rights over all the land, and have granted some other rights to you lesser nobles. According to our laws, the land belongs to the lowest level lord. That part of your land which your barons hold is theirs, only the rest belongs to you entirely. This land we are sitting on now is clearly Baron Voslarien’s.
“Also according to our laws, I retain ownership of what is under the land. A man who digs a gold mine owes me a share of his gold, because the gold belongs to me, and he is acting on my behalf in mining it. So, this land is Voslarien’s, but the city under it is my city. And now that we have all been arrogant about our rights, we should ask the scholars what it is we are arguing about. Marcellus, Antonio?”
The scholars whispered together briefly, and Marcellus seemed to be urging Antonio to speak. The older scholar nodded his head in agreement and walked out in front of the crowd.
“You have all read the history of this town, carved onto the tablets we found there. That is as much as I know. I might be able to discover some other information in some of the older histories in the Temple, but perhaps not. The city of Denton died a thousand years ago, and that is a long time for memories to stay alive. In between then and now was the Big War, which destroyed so much more. Even the town of Fairlea the residents moved to is unknown to me. It may have been lost in the Big War, as so many other places were.
“What we do have is a historical treasure. A whole city, not entirely intact, but with much of it still surviving. We can study their style of architecture, their designs, their manner of laying out the city. There are mosaics still in place, and a few very large statues, all of which would be great additions to any museum.
“We scholars have a great deal to study and learn from this city. I don’t know if anyone else will find it interesting. There is probably no treasure left behind, no books, no records other than the carved tablets. The most delicious recipes from its finest restaurants are long gone. The wine they drank they took with them, or it has dried up. However, it is still a wonder to see and take delight in. Even those who don’t share my scholarly interest may admire its beauty.”
***
The servants were busy. They had cleared away all the remains of the feast, packed up the pieces worth eating later or giving to the poor, and broken the trestle tables down. The boards and trestles had to go into the wagons first, lining the bottoms. Empty kegs and baskets of leftover food came next.
The nobles’ retainers saddled up horses for those who would ride back to the baron’s castle. Ladies arranged their hair for the last time and made sure they hadn’t left anything on the grass. Prince Aranondio left off talking with Ben and came up to Vince.
“I would like Ben to come with us to Voslarien’s castle tonight. We nobles are still arguing who owns what and why. And how we might divide it up in a way that makes each of us happy. Ben and the rest of you have been in the city more than we have, and maybe he, or you, can give us some idea of what we really have to divide.”
“You spoke to Ben. If he didn’t want to go, he’d have told you. It’ll take a little time for us to pack up. We can follow your trail and catch up quickly enough.”
Ben had jumped down to the city and brought the portal doorway from there back to the hilltop. He made sure the air wall at the entrance would keep out wild animals. While he was doing this, he was giving Marcus and Derek instructions for the morning. Satisfied that he had things under control, he mounted his horse and floated the doorway over his head, held by a rope.
“I want this for Voslarien’s castle,” he explained. “We can come back easier with a portal, and he’ll want easy access in the future.”
***
Voslarien’s castle consisted of a large tower and some stone buildings, surrounded by a wall. The tower was for him and his family, with a large round room on the ground floor for entertaining company. A small table stood in front of the unused fireplace, with chairs for the three noblemen. A pair of rectangular tables stood nearby, with benches for the rogues and wizards. The trip back from the lost city had filled the late afternoon, and the party had just finished a small supper.
“Ben, we’re close to agreeing to split the city between us,” Aranondio began, “but we don’t know if there’s enough to share. It’s an abandoned city, but the history they left behind says they took everything out of it. Could anything be left for us to fight over? Do you need more wine, Ben?”
“Yes, thank you. Some things may be buried under piles of stone and brick. There are buildings that have completely fallen in. If the owner stored his wealth in his cellar and forgot to take it with him when he fled the ruin, anyone who wanted it now would have to dig it out. Still, the history says they took everything. I think they did. They were moving permanently to another place. They needed all their wealth to rebuild, why leave anything here? Who would be so forgetful?
“Yes, it’s possible some people forgot where they had hidden some money. Some coins may have been hidden by an ancestor, and his descendants didn’t know it was there. There’s another thing you may not know about. Peasants, farmers, poor people in general don’t like to leave their money where the tax collector can find it. Many bury their money in their yards. Maybe some forgot to dig it up. On the other hand, these are just the people to remember to dig it up. They can’t afford to leave it behind.”
“You can’t even give us an estimate?” Muppelonian asked. “We all want a deal, one fair to each of us. Surely there must be something left for us to divide. Isn’t there?”
“My best guess is no. Nothing left at all. This entire city is worth nothing to anyone but the scholars like Antonio and Marcellus. An entire ancient city for them to explore. Carefully, but I can send them a few wizards to help them float about the ruins. I know a magical feat that can preserve the city as it is right now, keeping it from collapsing any more.
Let the scholars enjoy this city, study it, write books about life in ancient times. If they want to show it off to other scholars, I can send some wizards to preserve a few buildings for them. But the whole city is too large to preserve it all.
For the rest of us, it’s just a big pile of stone. Interesting. Beautiful. But not very useful.”