Stonecavern

By Laura Woodward

In the silent aftermath he heard a gurgle of water. He was dusty and dirty
from the rock explosion and the splashing of the water beckoned him.
Water emerged from an opening high overhead and gently cascaded down
the rocks to form a pool. He leaned over and splashed the water over his
face letting its refreshing coolness linger. A few drops fell from his hands
and formed rings in the water. Sliding his hands down his face he peered
into the clear pool.
Whats this? At first he thought his eyes played a trick on him and then he
looked again. Gradually the entire valley below came into focus as if he
possessed the sight of a dragon. He could clearly see every farm down to
the trees planted in the orchards!
He stepped back and his eyes went to the golden throne elevated above
the pool of water. One could sit upon the throne and look into the water
surveying the land below. He walked over to admire its workmanship.
Gently his long thin fingers touched the markings etched into its massive
arms; the same mysterious symbols that covered Stonecaverns walls. The
embedded gems sparkled in the fire light invitingly. He stepped onto
the stone platform and sat down. It fi t him perfectly. Rubbing his hands
over the arm rests he marveled at how seamlessly his gems blended into
the gold. Master craftsmanship or dragon power? Either way he felt an
unequaled power of transformation radiate from the magnifi cent piece.
Could he use this power to transform his thoughts to his evil intent?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 11, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456881542

Laura Woodward

Laura Woodward produced top-named concerts for 15 years. She now lives in Montana with her husband. Her nieces and nephews are the inspiration for Tandarra her first novel.

Book preview

Copyright © 2011 by Laura Woodward.

ISBN:          Softcover                                 978-1-4568-8153-5

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4568-8154-2

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

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Contents

Recollections

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

MF-Map3.jpg

Recollections

I am old now. Well, not as old as the mountains I had always dreamed of exploring, but old I am.

Unk had always said, Be careful of what you wish for, young one, for sure as the sun comes up in the morning, your wish will come true. Funny, I didn’t believe him then. Youth rarely does. Unk is gone now, as are many of the others who helped me and my friends over the years. Some passed with old age and some passed protecting us; more importantly—protecting Tandarra.

So now I sit in my comfy room in Anara with more time to reminisce than to explore. The young Elven Lass who records the events in this journal sits patiently and waits for my thoughts to form. When they do they are vivid and sharp; and spoken so quickly at times she must hold up her slight hand in order to put all my words on paper. When I get tired and I nod off, she covers me with a finely embroidered quilt to keep me warm. The Elven Ones have provided me with every comfort; for which I am grateful. There was a time when comfort was non-existent and peril came with every footstep. A time when I feared for my life; but at the same time filled with such wondrous expectations I felt I was the luckiest pig alive.

But I get ahead of myself. Mainly, because I am anxious to let you know how one as small as I could be so fortunate as to dream impossible dreams and have them come true. With a price, no doubt. But does anything in our lives ever come without a price?

No doubt, historians will teach this era of Tandarra as a period that was turbulent and uncertain; and without this journal the following events would be distorted, misquoted, or even forgotten. So before my time in Tandarra is brought to an end by old age, I have asked young Deleia to record the events as I experienced them.

It is my wish, dear reader; you will not view this as a history lesson; but that you will discover everything is possible if you believe.

Humphrey

Chapter 1

It was early spring, after a cold and blustery winter when a man carefully prepared for his journey to the Lor-el Mountains. He loaded his stocky horse with supplies, kissed his wife good-bye, and left his humble cottage that lay bathing in the peaceful haze of early morning.

The man’s trip northward was quiet and uneventful as he hoped it would be. This time of the year there weren’t many travelers on the road; even so he checked the trail behind him several times to make sure no one followed. Throughout the day the short, stocky man and seasoned horse traveled to a place only he knew existed. When he arrived at the old log cabin invisible in the shadows of the pine forest he removed his saddlebags from the horse and entered the remote dwelling.

The next morning broke bright and clear. After eating a hearty breakfast he stepped outside and took in a refreshing breath of clear mountain air. He never did like the stifling air in the valley; up here it was fresh and full of life. Looking at the majestic peaks towering before him he let his mind drift back to the stories he heard when he was a little boy. Tales of old told by elders around evening fires said there was something glorious even mysterious lying deep inside the mountains. What it was no one could say.

He brought himself to the task at hand. Already he felt a special energy surge through his body. He gathered his axe, lantern, and leather sack, and began the climb up a natural rockslide near the cabin. The shale stones were loose and slid under his feet, but he labored up until he came to a familiar group of rocks that he had placed last fall. Setting his gear aside, he easily pushed the loose pile of rubble away with gloved hands exposing a woven net of twigs. The man removed the gate and peered into the dark opening of his secret mine. He lit his lantern, collected his sack and axe, and stepped into the darkness.

He landed on the dirt floor, took out a small torch and began to light dozens of tiny lanterns nailed to the wall. He followed the tunnel down into the depths of the mountains, the lanterns pushing back the darkness. When he reached the end of the tunnel, he set his lantern down and ran his hand lovingly over the smooth, cool stone. For a moment he bent his head in silent prayer asking for success with his diggings and then raised his axe and tapped gently at the rock. Pebbles fell softly onto the dirt floor as he skillfully dug into the vein before him.

After a time, the milkiness of the quartz became clear and he found a small cache of rubies. This was a pleasant discovery because rubies would bring a high price at the Spring Faire, and he knew his wife had a deep affection for the quartz. She often said quartz had healing powers and he could already feel their energy working. He removed the rubies and dropped them one by one into his leather pouch. Eagerly he chipped away at the quartz until he found a piece worthy to bring home to his wife. The tappings echoed off the stone walls and methodically hypnotized him with their rhythm.

Tap… tap… tap… the axe broke through the quartz into emptiness beyond. His trance broke and the man stopped. To his amazement a brilliant light shone out from the other side of the stone wall. He reeled back temporarily blinded for he’d grown accustomed to the dim light of the tunnel. This light was brighter than ten of his lanterns combined. He shook his head and blinked a few times to regain his sight. Shielding his eyes with his gloved hand he curiously looked into the opening and located the light source. He could barely contain his excitement. Brilliant, multi-colored lights danced on the walls that surrounded the treasure. Using his axe he made an opening large enough for his body to fit through and crawled into the narrow recess. The warmth inside the small cave was a comforting change from the cold dampness he’d grown accustomed to in the tunnel. Enjoying the warmth he sat back on his heels and let his eyes adjust.

He examined the object before him. Five jagged points rose up exquisitely from a thick base rooted to the stone floor. The light that danced on the walls captivated and welcomed the man. He drew his breath in wonder. Crystals, he murmured awestruck. The extraordinary treasure was more beautiful than anything he’d ever mined before.

His gloved hands expertly worked the axe around the crystals’ thick base careful not to damage the treasure; but with each strike of his axe their light quivered in protest. So intent on the praise he knew he would receive from his friends he didn’t notice the harm he caused.

Once he removed the rock from around and under the crystals’ base he laid down his axe and grabbed their jagged edges. With extraordinary strength he tugged and pulled; twisting and turning at the last piece that held them to the earth until he wrenched them free. They tore out with an ear-piercing screech that echoed off the walls of the tiny enclosure. The man dropped the crystals to floor and covered his ears. Squeezing his eyes shut he rocked back and forth on his knees trying to block out the deafening sound.

When it quieted, he took his hands off his ears and opened his eyes. The crystals lay on the dirt floor before him. Their brilliant colors were now dimmed a hundredfold from their original beauty. He picked them up and balanced them in his gloved hands glad to see he hadn’t chipped them. Their weight was heavy and their warm energy penetrated through his leather gloves; but he was disappointed their colors no longer held the brilliance of before. Gradually an uneasiness crept over him and the air around him grew stale. At that moment he almost returned the crystals to their base; but desire won over his inner wisdom. He grabbed a cloth from his back pocket and bundled the treasure in it preventing their light from ever dancing on the stone walls again.

The mountains overhead shook violently in protest. Rocks loosened and crashed on the man’s head. Before he was either knocked unconscious or even buried alive he hastily backed out of the opening, and ran up the tunnel to safety. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as his feet slipped and dodged rocks that were loosened and falling on the path. He stumbled and tripped, but kept his treasure clutched close to his chest. He clambered up the ladder holding the crystals with one hand. They shuddered in protest, but the man ignored all thought but escape.

The sun was setting when he burst out of the mine and ran headlong down the slippery rockslide. When he reached his cabin, he fell to his knees gasping for breath. His lungs burned, but there would be no safety found outside. The ground lurched and trees crashed to the ground.

He half-ran, half-crawled into the cabin. Inside he huddled in a corner praying the earthquake would stop; but the room pitched and heaved the cabin’s contents freely about. It seemed like forever and finally the rumbling stopped.

The man slowly got up and moved about the chaos in the dimly lit cabin. In a daze he righted an overturned chair while still clutching the crystals to his chest. Standing before the table he hesitated for a moment then set them on the wooden top. The earth responded with a violent lurch that sent him and crystals sprawling across the room. Then it fell eerily silent.

The crystals had come clear of their wrapping and the man scrambled over to them. In the darkness their dim brilliance was a mere shadow of their original beauty. He removed his leather gloves and grabbed them. On his knees he willed their beauty to return, but nothing happened. No longer would their radiant colors shine with the fullness of life.

An eerie stillness lingered on the land. He looked around as a feeling of sadness filled him. He knew he should return them, but he couldn’t convince himself to do so. He hadn’t thought of the consequences in the excitement of his discovery. He didn’t mean to destroy anything; he just wanted them. He wanted to show the world their beauty; share their brilliance with those he knew.

The man realized there would be no rest for him tonight. He picked himself off the floor and placed the crystals on the wooden table. Wearily he re-packed his horse. When he finished, he tenderly wrapped the crystals in a leather cloth and placed them inside a saddlebag. He shut the cabin door and began his early return home.

He traveled through the quiet and uneventful night. Just before dawn when he could no longer keep his eyes open he stopped in a small hollow to rest. It seemed unusually cold and that only added to his misery. He shivered around a small fire his mind constantly on the crystals. After a while he got up, took them out of the saddlebag and brought them over to his bedroll. He sat down cross-legged on the ground and removed the cloth covering. With all the love in his heart he willed their weak glow to once again come alive, but they didn’t respond. Exhausted he got into his bedroll and pulled them close to his heart. After a while he fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning he put the crystals back in the saddlebag and continued his trip. He arrived home late in the afternoon. In the barn, he unsaddled and fed his horse, and then took his bags into the cottage. When he entered, he greeted his wife with strained gaiety. She was surprised he was home so soon and sensed something was wrong, but held her questions. With a silent loving touch she helped him out of his warm coat and hung it on a wooden peg. Then she went over and stirred a kettle of stew adding a few pieces of kindling to the fire in the hearth.

The man placed his saddle bags on the floor by the door and then poured himself a cup of ale. He hadn’t eaten in two days and was famished. He took a bowl from the wooden shelf and with a soft smile, handed it to his wife. She ladled him a scoopful of stew and he sat down at the table. The woman gathered a clean cloth and placed a hunk of warm fresh bread in it. She set it on the table and brought over a plate of soft sweet butter. After taking a small portion of the hot stew for herself she sat down next to her husband. They ate silently for a while the man relishing the taste of the meat from his fall kill. She dabbed the sweet butter on a hunk of the bread and handed it to her husband. He took the bread and smiled at her. Biting into it he savored its sweetness. When they were done, she took the bowls over to the sink and rinsed them off. While she brushed the breadcrumbs from the table while the man sat at the table drinking his cup of ale. He was deep in thought and she let him be. Wiping her hands on her apron she went over to her chair and picked up her knitting.

Her husband continued to sit for a few moments longer and then stood up from the table. He went over to the hearth and placed a log on the fire. Brushing a few coals back with his boot he felt it was time to unpack his bags. He drank the final mouthful of ale, placed the cup on the table, and went to his saddle bags. He put them on the table and first took out the same small sacks of supplies he had taken with him. His wife placed her knitting aside and began to put them away.

When he came to his leather pouch he undid the bindings and shook out the rubies into his palm. Look, he said breaking the silence. She set the sacks down and went over to look in her husband’s hand.

Ooh, she said as the man rubbed his thumb over the gems to remove the dirt. He placed them in her hand and took out the quartz. He didn’t want to show her the crystals just yet. He needed her word she would keep his secret.

When he showed her the quartz, she put the rubies in the pocket of her apron and hugged him tenderly for the gift. She laid the cloth on the table and placed them side by side. While she examined them the man went silent.

At his silence she turned and looked at him with questioning eyes.

I found something else, he said.

What?

We need to keep it hidden for the time being. Promise you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to show you.

The woman nodded and promised solemnly knowing this was what was troubling him since he came home.

He took a large wrapped object out of his saddle bag and placed it on the table. Faintly the ground shuddered beneath his feet and looked into his wife’s pale blue eyes. He spoke as took the cloth off of them. I found this at the end of the mine passage.

His wife gasped when the last fold of cloth fell to the table. Though their radiant colors were no longer brilliant their presence was still breathtaking. Crystals, she murmured just as he had when he first saw them.

I’m afraid their true beauty is gone. They were brilliant in the cave.

His wife tenderly picked them up with both hands. My, they are heavy. Look, you can still see their pretty colors.

"I think I should have left them alone. Did