Born a Monster

Chapter 143: Servant of the Axe, 43 – Salamancae

Servant of the Axe

Chapter 43

Salamancae

Needless to say, the new officers had no problem with Kismet and I assisting with the holystoning and swabbing, and they refreshed my knowledge of knots and expanded my technical skills at sailing. (Not that I particularly wanted those skills, but compared to swimming some two, maybe three hundred miles? Hard pass.)

Except for Dimmihammas, who just acted like a monkey, we were pressed into service until we were passing Salamancae’s white cliffs. Some intrepid explorer had imagined the east-to-west island as a sword breaking the pattern of its north-to-south neighbors, hence the name.

It wasn’t hard to find the black on light grey heraldry of the Explorer’s Society. (Technically illegal, but I wasn’t about to sail for a week or so just to go tell them.) We set off in a longboat, and were rapidly holding discussions with the natives (in Neonen, a language Madonna and Gamilla knew much better than I did) about where the actual ruin site was.

We traded some annoyingly heavy knickknacks for a guide, who was happy to tell us there were no cannibal pygmies on the island, but we needed to watch for snakes and spiders and swarms of tree rats (who turned out to be squirrels). There were only four large predators on the island, a pack of dogs that came up to a man’s shoulder in height, and they were nowhere near where we were going.

.....

Now in the stories, all treasure maps are clearly marked, symbols on trees or on rocks, and some such, and there is always a very precise spot upon which to dig. What we stumbled upon more resembled a strip mine for clay.

“Good gods!” I said. It was the size of Hortiluk’s cistern, if not yet as deep. A team of four muscular men turned a crank to operate a water lift, dumping water from the pit into an aqueduct, which carried it away to somewhere else. Not to fields, there was a clear smell of brine, and crystals of salt could be found throughout the clay.

“It’s... massive.” Kismet said. “There must be a dozen diggers, and as many support staff.”

“What a waste of effort.” Gamilla said. “A smaller pit has to be more manageable.”

“It’s a thing to see.” Narces said.

We made our way to the other side, toward the encampment. It was precisely organized, set in a manner that the wind hit the sides of the tent, but the sun had free access to their fronts and backs. As we arrived, a spot was cleared for our tent, and the natives oriented it just so before allowing us to hammer a single stake.

Our tent of white burlap stood out like a peacock against all the green and blue tents.

“Ambassador, the guide is gone. The locals say that Miss Turner is one of the diggers in that... mess.”

They all looked the same, coated in light gray. There were three females, but only one was short and slight.

“I see her.”

#

There was a rope ladder into the cistern from the side of camp opposite of our tent. I descended past the dry soil, into moist soil, and finally ankle-deep water that became knee deep as my feet sank into the mud.

The muck sucked at me with each footstep, like a grappler. Just walking through this stuff all day would count as one of the exercises of my physical regimen. I gained a modicum of respect for people who would work in this stuff all day.

“Miss Turner, might I have a word?”

“Oh, ambassador with the funny name starting with R! So long as I can keep digging, I suppose we can. In fact, pick up a spare shovel, help move this mound here to that edge.” Where she indicated was a rowboat, affixed to rope and pulley, that was being loaded with clay.

“Quite clever.” I said.

“Oh, I didn’t develop that. One of Lord Altessimo Spiro’s innovations.”

I didn’t know who that was, but not all truths need to be spoken.

“How long do you think you’ll be on the dig, here?”

“Well, until we either have the treasure we’re looking for or we run out of funds or food or other things that might force us to abandon the site.”

“And you must be certain of the site to put this much effort into it.”

“I am. The map clearly delineates several features of the island, and the X is clearly marked. We found no signs of where the original pit was dug, but I am confident that this is the area marked on the map. You’ll understand if I can’t share the map with anyone not signed to my crew.”

“Of course.” I said. “In any event, when this dig is completed, I would like to commission a crew to help explore a cursed temple.”

She sucked audibly on her lower lip. “Pandeos, also known as Pantheos?”

“I see you’ve heard of it.”

“Pass. I’ll tell you what I know for two coppers, but I’m not setting foot there. Pan was the god of the wild, of chaos and fear and madness, but also of nature’s bounty and, supposedly, music. And, in the time of the Itinar, he had a cult that ranged five islands across. Nobody knows what caused the temple to fail, but rumors are that the Itinar Preceps, or local ruler of their island holdings, conducted a raid with the express purpose of killing every single worshipper.”

“So, you see, that’s not just a fallen temple. It’s also a mass grave, filled with angry spirits. Every expedition that’s gone inside the walls past the sight of those outside has vanished. There are reports of combat, but the site swallows champion and hero alike. Besides, any rumored treasures of the temple were probably taken by the victorious troops.”

“So, what site MIGHT hold treasure, and isn’t so formidably defended?”

“Well, this one, of course. But if I were to be funded... The barrow of Invicta Gloriana is rumored to be on the island of Tirinoctu, guarded by mysterious black cats the size of the dogs we have here.”

Sounded like a quick resolve for a quest even if we couldn’t get the treasure.

It was too good to be true.

#

We chatted on other matters, until the light began to fade. The rowboat was emptied four times that I saw, and possibly more. Our mound had become a depression which almost instantly filled with brackish mud-water.

We washed up in baths fed from the aqueduct, so we didn’t exactly get clean. But it took enough of the mud off that it no longer felt like the pit itself was still trying to bring us down. The salt though – that left spots of irritated flesh when it dried.

We shared tales over dinner, and I learned that the ticks and fleas of the island could easily leap up onto cots such as we had brought with us. Fortunately, my companions had already learned this, and had built the post-and-hammock system the natives and the expedition were using.

But when we broke off to our tents for the night was also where things started to take a turn.

“Husband, Dimmihammas has something to tell you.”

“My legs feel nothing but a throbbing soreness, how urgent is this?”

“I got a look at the map.” Dimmihammas said. “There is a random-seeming set of dashes and circles around the edge of the map. When I examined it, my System told me that it didn’t have the cryptology section unlocked. So, it’s a code of some kind, but not one that makes sense to me. There is one filled in circle, which I’m certain is intended to be the start point for the cypher.”

“Very well, tomorrow we’ll see if Gamilla has that section unlocked.”

“That was my thought also. But she said she was an Executioner, not a Spy.”

“Hrm. That’s annoying. We’re wasting our time here, then.”

“Not necessarily.” Madonna said. “The locals have a village of nearly fifty families, with an almost equal number of outlying hunters and foragers, even some gardeners. There is the potential of trade on this island.”

“Things may look brighter in the morning.” I said.

Things did not look brighter in the morning, as there was a spring squall coming through. The cistern, even with the water crank going, rapidly filled deep enough that the half-full rowboat vanished beneath the surface.

Lightning played about in the clouds, and struck the nearby mountain, setting the hounds that lived there baying.

There were quite a few of them.

I decided, since work was halted for the day, to let Miss Turner know of the code; its secrecy wasn’t doing us any good, after all.

“Oh, I’m a dolt.” She said, “That is exactly the sort of thing I should have noticed.”

And that evening, she had her translation of that code.

“Ambassador, I’d like to hire your adventurers. The treasure isn’t here; its up in a mountain clay pit, and my crew will need protection from the dogs.”

#

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