Stygmarsh Chapter 4. The Lizards Den

Chapter 4. The Lizards’ Den

         Jim was the first to wake up, his mind was foggy and his tongue felt like it was bandaged in wool. He tried to rise but found that his limbs were so heavy he could not use them. He was lying face down on a mat of cut and dried reeds in a dimly lit place. There were some echoes in his ears, but he couldn’t be sure if they were in his head or outside of it. He turned his face and looked around. The first sight was that of a muddy boot in his face. It was the Squires riding boot and by shifting his head slightly he could see its owner and his three other associates were laid out on the same reed heap, lost in a drugged sleep. His head fell back as if it was made of lead and he nodded off.

         Sometime later something settled on his nose and awoke him again. It was a strange beetle that had a green-tinged light coming from its body. He had seen firebugs in the marsh before, and waved it off. He realized he was on his back now and staring up, he made out that the light came from a wicker basket hanging from a hook above him, where a dozen of these creatures were held. He was in some sort of cave, and the cave smelt of fish. Turning his head he saw a wooden platter of raw fish next to him and a pitcher on the floor of packed earth. In the pitcher was water and he held it with both hands and drunk greedily.
“Oi! Save some vor me!” croaked Tricky. Jim stopped and carefully passed the water over and the nasturian drank.
“Where are we?” Isambard said, suddenly coming awake. He looked about the rude cavern, blinking.
“Dunno mate,” said Jim, they checked on the other two, but they were still out cold.
         There was a padding of feet and to their right they saw the most extraordinary sight they had ever beheld. Watching them was a lizard, a lizard standing upright on two feet. It was only maybe three feet high, dark green and scaled, with a pug-like jaw of small triangular teeth some of which were missing, making the creature seem ancient. Its yellow eyes were thin and slitted, yet somehow intelligent looking. It wore some orange-stained hide round its loins, a necklace of tiny skulls and strange pieces of tin about its neck and it had two satchels slung over its shoulders. The creature leaned on a small wooden staff, peered at them and called out in a series of clicks! and Kka’s! As they stared open-mouthed at this odd creature something behind it began to make its way down a rough stone stair into the cave.
“Engels!” Tricky cried in alarm, “Vot is dat?”
         It was a huge lizard towering above them at well over six feet standing upon its back legs like the smaller one, and was at the same time part-beast and part-man. It approached on powerful legs, almost upright with a great tail sweeping for balance behind, stopped and regarded them coldly, without emotion or expression. In form it was like the little lizard except it had paler green scales on its belly and wore no clothing except a hide harness with a loop for its most fearsome weapon, a crude but deadly-looking axe. The second difference was its jaws, a great set of crocodilian teeth curving out from a long scaly snout. It smelt rank, a mixture of fish and vegetation and its shoulders were slick with some form of grease. It blinked its lidless eyes, blinked them sideways in a disgusting manner and a forked tongue darted from its jaws, waved in the air and flicked back.
“By the blasted beard of St Nicolas!” the voice of the Squire hissed in fear, “They mean to have us in a horrid feast!”
         It was about then that they realized they had no weapons upon them and, excepting the leather jerkins, had been stripped of armour too whilst they had slept. But, on a ckick! from the small lizard, the great creature stopped at the foot of the stair and remained, watching and silent. The old smaller lizard fussed about in its satchel, clicking to itself and, whilst they watched, it dabbed a cloth in some brown sticky unguent from its pouch and applied it to the dart wounds of Brother Michael and the other sleeping marshman. It looked at them, pointed to the fish, before tottering off down a small passage opposite the stairs and disappearing behind a curtain. The big lizard remained on station at the foot of the stairs, eyeing them impassively.
“What is that stuff?” asked Isambard,“Smells awful!”
“I dunno, but there some on all of us,” Jim pointed out. The others now noticed that all their wounds had been smeared with it.
“Vot now?” asked Tricky nervously.
“First we have to regain our strength,” Isambard said, “And hope Michael and that Manon chap recover soon. The way out seems to be up the stairs. I can see a lofty cavern through there.”
“Water?” Jim asked, and the pitcher was passed over with sleepy limbs.

         They fell silent and dozed awhile until Brother Michael and soon after, Manon awoke.
“Oh Dear!” the Priest said when he was acquainted with the situation.
“Well I ain’t staying here!” said Manon, who was pale and clearly horrified by the place, “We gotta think of a way out!”
         The small lizard-man came to see them, and with them a younger lizard of the same stature carrying a crude spear. After it had looked them all over the old lizard spoke to them, falteringly, forming the words with difficulty in their tongue.
“Soon you takk to Quarkkerren Tabr,” it said, “Rest. Sleep. Soon good.”
“What do you want of us?” Isambard demanded imperiously, but before an answer came, Manon had set in motion a train of events that changed the situation.

         He had heard rumours of these ‘Dragon men’ in the bandit’s winter caves, heard of them eating the unwary traveler in the east marshes, and was afraid. He had also found his knife in his boot that the lizards had not discovered and he now formulated a plan of action born of that fear. Hiding the knife up his sleeve he began to concentrate his eye within, and on that landscape of his mind, he painted fire. The blaze grew from a flame to a bonfire, and he cast it from his mind into the cavern behind the huge lizard. Flames sprang into semi-existence writhing like snakes, filling the cavern with light, and the great lizard turned about in surprise.
“Now!” Manon yelled, “Get them!” and, without waiting for response, he ran forward and leaped onto the great creatures’ scaly back and drove the point of the knife in with all his might. It was pure chance that his tiny blade found its way between the broad scales there, and the creature gave a bellow as the marshman clung grimly on and twisted it in.
         Tricky and the Squire were first on their feet. Tricky, unarmed as he was, thought first of getting past the great lizard, but the creature had turned back toward him and blocked the way, tail lashing. Instead he grabbed for its axe and held onto it. Whilst they wrestled, the Squire joined the grapple and dived to the creature’s scaly feet, wrapping his arms about them.
With clicks of alarm, the old lizard directed the spear-wielding lizard forward but Jim was on it. He dodged the creature’s thrust and closed it down, striking out savagely with his fist. It connected with the lizard’s skull with an awful crack! and the creature collapsed.
         Meanwhile Manon was being tossed about like a puppet as the huge lizard vainly tried, first to use the axe, then claw him off, all the time bellowing and shedding blood. The three men fought it together with the desperation of hopelessness and slowly the creature’s struggles grew weaker and weaker until it fell backward onto Manon with a thud. Tricky pulled him out from under the beast and straightaway the Squire snatched up the axe and struck it in the neck, dead.
The old lizard had not sought to fight, but had stumbled back behind the curtain, dropping its stick in its haste. Jim grabbed the short spear from the other lizard creature and followed, cornering it in a small room, filled with wooden bowls and boxes.
“No kkill!” it pleaded.
“Jim Barley! Don’t kill it!” Brother Michael said, finally regaining his senses in the turmoil, and Jim stayed his hand.
“I’ve got this one!” Jim called instead.
         Manon wiped the bloody knife on his trews, his hand shaking uncontrollably and joined Jim. Isambard found that there were three other small rooms along the dead-end the corridor, each of which had a wooden screen in front of it. He checked behind the first and found that it had only an empty reed bed, some sort of cell. The others looked to be similar.
“There’s no way out down here,” he told them, returning.
“It seemed to be in charge,” Manon indicated the old lizard, “Lets bring it,” and so saying he grabbed the old lizard and slung it over his shoulder without ceremony. They quickly sorted out what weapons they now had and Isambard gave the axe to Jim and took a knife from the room. Tricky took the short spear.
“Hurry!” Tricky, who had gone to the top of the stairs, called down, “Dere vill be others here soon.”
         Manon struggled up the stairs to Tricky, carrying the old lizard that had fallen silent and Brother Michael was flapping about wringing his hands. At the top of the stairs they found they were joining a rock corridor ten yards wide and to their left their eyes beheld the Great Cavern for the first time. It rose up like the vault of a cathedral, and at the same time the floor sloped downward on all sides, like a great shallow bowl, towards a pool of water. The vault was lit with flames held in what looked like rock bowls, and in that light they could make out, sixty yards across, the mouths of two cavernous tunnels. More they could not see, for a buttress of rock, reached by a narrow rock stair opposite, jutted into the Great Cavern above the pool. To the right the corridor gradually narrowed and was lost in gloom. The place was echoing with strange noises.
“Lets go right!” Tricky said, “I hear vater dat vay.”
“What about the stair?” Isambard began, but Manon was already moving off with the lizard flipping its tail behind him. The others followed and the Squire decided to dart over to the stair and watch their backs. And it was a good thing he did, for he suddenly heard the clicks of Lizard folk coming round the corner of the buttress.                    There was no time before they would be on him, so the Squire threw himself into a crevice in the rutted cavern wall and clung to the shadow, heart pounding. A half dozen small lizards swept past him heading toward the reed-strewn cavern they had just come from. With a clack of warning the last lizard suddenly pointed down the tunnel with his spear and the other lizards stopped. The Squire turned fearfully to where it pointed and could just make out Manon and his captive disappearing. The lizard that had a baton rather than a spear and wore a necklace of animal bones, sent one of the lizards down the stair into the cavern where they had woken up in. It soon returned, clicking wildly to the leader. This lizard sent two of their number off up the rock stair, right past the Squire, and then set off in the direction the Squires colleagues had gone with the remainder. Isambard let out his breath, that he had found himself holding, as they disappeared, and was wondering what he should do next, when a figure, maybe the size of a man, came carefully creeping out of the reed cavern. It paused at the threshold and peered about cautiously. As its face drew out of the shadows for a second, Isambard suddenly saw, to his surprise, it had a grayish skin with red lips and black eyes framed by a mop of blondish hair. Its nose was broad but broader still was its jaw, with rather large-looking teeth above a small pointed chin. With a shock the Squire realised it was like a picture he had once seen at Greyfriars College of a Goblin. ‘Where the devil did it spring from?’ The Squire thought, ‘And where is it going?’

         Tricky and Jim had gone on ahead of the others, reached the end of the tunnel that had shrunk to a corridor and went up a broad flight of stairs at the top of which was a dim light. Without pausing they tore up the stairs and into a round cavern from which the sounds of water came. A large wicker lantern hung over a pool on their right lighted the place. A thin stream of water fell from a shaft high on the right wall into the pool and the water drained into a culvert across the cavern floor and disappeared through a low tunnel on the left. There was little in the room apart from a collection of earthenware jars that surrounded the poolside and a broad stairway climbing out of the room on the far side. Tricky and Jim jumped the culvert and continued up the stairs to a fork. To the left the broad stairs continued further up and that way was lit, to the right a wooden wall blocked the passage with a gate in it. Behind them Brother Michael and Manon were toiling up the stairs into the pool room.
“Where’s the Squire? Shouldn’t we wait for him?” Michael asked, panting.
“Ee’ll catch us up,” puffed Manon, “Come on!”
“Company!” Jim yelled as a shadow appeared on the left stair, “I’ll hold ‘em. Try the gate!”
He strode up the stair as Tricky grabbed a wicker lantern down and looked at the wooden door. The sounds of clicking and a shrill lizard scream sounded at the top of the stair as Manon and Michael finally caught up.
“Der gates open!” Tricky yelled and he kicked the door inward and peered through. It was a reed-strewn cavern but appeared to be empty of lizards. The Priest and the marshman followed him in, but he had stopped after five yards and was looking about wildly.
“Dere’s no vay out!” he shouted, “Back!” They tried to go back but Jim was already coming down the stairs fending off spear thrusts from two of the small lizard folk. Worse still, there were lights coming into the pool room from the way they had come, and in a moment a half dozen of the lizards were crossing the culvert towards them. There were too many to fight and it was Jim who shouted to them to get behind the gate and be ready to block it. Outside the gate a lizard with the marks of a lizard caught up with Jim as he tried to close it and thwacked him on the arm with its baton. Though the blow was no more than a smack, the ranger cried out and fell back into the chamber.
“I.. I can’t feel my arm!” he yelled in alarm.
Tricky jumped into the gateway and stabbed the lizard in the shoulder with his spear. It dropped the baton and Tricky seized the gate and slammed it shut. The ranger dropped onto his back and braced his legs against the wood as the lizards gathered on the other side and rattled it fiercely. Then, after an exchange between the lizards, they seemed to retreat and all fell quiet. Brother Michael was looking at the rangers limp arm, but could see no sign of damage.
         The wooden wall was made of stout logs although it afforded some cracks to see through. Tricky reported that the lizards had pulled back but there were many more of them out there. Manon had relinquished his burden and had tied the old lizards arms with a cord that Tricky gave him from the gate. It seemed there was a wooden bar on the outside but not the inside. They had escaped into some sort of prison.
“Oh dear! Oh Dear!” Michael kept repeating, “What are we to do?”
“Shaddap and help me up!” The ranger growled.
“Some pretty trick you pulled dere, marshman!” Tricky said to Manon with a raised eyebrow.
“Ah.. yes.. sorry ‘bout that,” Manon said humbly, pressing his fingertips together.
“You a Vitch, den?” the nasturian asked with a leer.
“I wouldn’t say that.. merely a.. er.. trickster,” Manon said, trying to hide himself.
“Shh! Careful!” hissed Tricky, ducking down and reaching for his spear. They looked up and saw a thin tube being quietly poked between the logs. Before it had a chance to fire a dart, tricky had hit it smartly with the spear and smashed it. There was a muffled hiss and footfalls scampering away.
“Dey von’t try dat again!” Tricky said with a satisfied air. After that they moved the lantern next to the gate and moved to the back of the cave so that they were hidden in the shadow, but would see any such exploits.

         Long minutes passed in which time their furious debate and recriminations, largely towards Manon, had given way to a morose sense of helplessness. They had heard horns sounding in the caverns and heard the lower, gruffer clicks of what they thought must be the larger lizard beasts outside the gate. Michael was for giving themselves up, whilst Manon and Tricky argued against it whilst they had the hostage. Jims arm had slowly recovered sensation, but he remained quiet. The Priest finally knelt in worried prayer.

         It had been over an hour when, from around the corner, a voice hailed them, a human voice.
“Ho there! You in the cavern. I am sent to talk.”
It was Brother Michael who responded first. He jumped up and cried out in happy wonder. “Brother Frances? Can it be? Is it really you?”
“Michael? Michael Stone?” the other replied in astonishment, “What on Terra are you of all people doing here?”
“Why, coming to rescue you of course!”
“And what a fine pickle! Now I am sent to rescue you!”
“Rescue us? Priest haff you lost your vits?” Tricky exclaimed.
“Yes well, I’m afraid that if you don’t put up your arms and release the healer, you will lose more than wits!” Frances replied evenly, “Is the healer harmed?”
“Healer? What? This lizard?” Manon began.
“It is unharmed,” Jim cut in.
“Ah good!” Frances sighed in relief, “Then we are, for the moment, safe.”
“And you? How are you, Brother Frances?” Manon called.
“And where’s Thom Corn?” Jim added.
“Quite unharmed, although held against my will. Thom is with me, he’s safe. These.. er, these creatures here have been treating us tolerably well.”
“Vot guarantees are dere that dey vill treat us der same?” Tricky demanded.
“None, I’m afraid. But they will take you by storm when the warrior lizards are ready if you resist further. I’ll talk with them and come for your answer, but please no rash moves I beg you!”
“Well Manon? You ‘eard ‘im. No rash moves,” Jim said with a dark glance.
“I’m all out of them,” Manon said sheepishly.

         There was a certain reluctance among the company to comply with the demand to surrender, but in the end Brother Michael overturned their doubts with his fervent belief that all would be well, this fuelled by his desire to be reunited with his friend. Tricky unlocked the gate and four lizards of the hugest size stepped in and took their weapons from them and carried the old lizard away. Then each of them was led out and, whilst burly scaled claws held them, they were searched and everything in pocket or belt was taken away. Brother Michaels complained when his Sacramentory was taken, but Brother Frances assured him if he would cause no trouble, they would return it. Tricky came under the harshest scrutiny, for the he had winged the lizard that was some sort of tribal leader and seemed clear in its demand for revenge, hissing through bared teeth at him in a most disconcerting manner. He thought he might be attacked by it there and then until another older necklaced lizard came and took the lizard away, still protesting. Then they were taken up the stairs past a room with a well in it and led through another wooden gate. They found themselves in a chain of three large caverns that were connected to the well room by two sets of wooden gates. Each was barred securely and one of the great lizard warriors was placed on guard. In that prison the Priests were reunited and Jim greeted his cousin Thom Corn.
         Frances and Thom’s story about the abduction was largely as they had heard and themselves experienced. An unprovoked night attack, darts imbued with some sort of sleeping poison and abduction out into the marsh.
“What do they want of us?” Jim asked
“I believe they have some sort of internal problem in their society,” Frances said.
“Vat? Society?” Tricky said in rude disbelief.
“Well, one of those lizards that wear the necklaces, a shaman, has spoken to me about needing more humans and an argument amongst the leaders.”
“More? What for?” asked Manon wide-eyed.
“That I cannot say.”

         Sometime in the night the gate was unbarred and a great lizard entered and slumped a body into the reeds from over its shoulder. After it had gone, they rolled the newcomer over expectantly.
“Ugh!” Michael exclaimed, recoiling from the creature.
“It’s… its a Goblin!” Manon cried out in dismay.
“Maybe that’s our supper?” Jim commented dryly.
“Oh dear!” said Brother Michael.
“So where’s the Squire?” Manon asked.