The Forest of Peldain

“No, because one endangered boat could drag the others over the edge with it. Each boat crew must rely on its own strength. Is all understood, my lord?” Octrago raised his eyebrows to look sternly at Vorduthe, and then at all the others. “Good. Then we proceed.”

The water looked thick and black and it tugged at the pods as they were pushed free of the ledge and probed forward under the close-pressing rock. At first this was no problem as the current was all in one direction toward the far end of the cavern. But after some minutes the lake’s surface under the overhang became plagued with eddies and unpredictable cross-currents. Something seemed to be trying to drag the boats away from the edge of the cavern, not toward its center but somewhere to one side.

Again and again the pods were swung round, as if attached to underwater ropes and had to be returned to their course by determined concerted paddling. Octrago, using a succession of torches, leaned as far over the prow as he could, peering anxiously into the darkness. From ahead there began to come a steady rippling sound.

“Make ready!” he called at last. “The flow now becomes swift!”

And so it did. Octrago’s brand was blown out by the breeze as they were swept forward. Cursing, he spent valuable seconds kindling another with his flint. When the flame strengthened, Vorduthe saw the expanse of water racing away from them to the right, surging aslant, and beyond it a great black hole over whose lip it streamed.

There was a big waterfall in the hills of Arelia. Vorduthe had visited it often. The falling stream plunged with a continuous roaring noise, and it filled the air with spray which sparkled in the sunlight. How different was this! The dark water was sinister in its quiet. There was no roaring: only the subdued rippling. No spray: just the cavern’s usual dampness in the air.

Did the stream fall to such a depth that its eventual crashing into whatever lay below could not be heard? Vorduthe suspected that the underground lake was fed by more rivers than the one they had come by, which he did not think could supply such a mass of perpetually falling water. Octrago gave a shout of encouragement: he had spotted the mouth of their escape route. But the current was strong and at its flood.

Such a hurrying onrush would have been impossible to resist had not the water begun to whirlpool, swinging into a curve on its approach to the chasm. The periphery of the vortex never reached the gaping hole, however; instead it split off, drawn through the tunnel mouth opposite. Keeping to this narrow band of water was the only way to avoid being dragged over the edge.

All oars were plied on the right-hand side of the boat in the desperate effort to stay under the overhang. The far end of the cavern loomed up. Vorduthe was unable to make out the tunnel entrance, but Octrago presumably knew where it was for he called to direct the boat a little to the right—a frightening instruction for it seemed to mean turning into the vortex.

Vorduthe looked aft to check the progress of the following two boats. He was dismayed to see only a flickering light some distance off, which while he watched disappeared.

He nudged Octrago. “I can’t see the others!” he hissed.

Octrago swung his head round. He frowned, the flickering flames making his face grotesque. “We can’t wait for them! If we slow down we’re finished!”

He turned his attention back to the rock wall. By now Vorduthe could make out a black shadow there. Then, visible on the surface of the water, the current parted.

“To the left!” Octrago shouted. “Take us to the left!” The men in the body of the pod responded with a final attempt to extract yet more leverage from their paddles. Then the boat suddenly shot forward and was carried into the hole in the wall.

No sooner were they safely inside than Octrago grabbed a paddle and frantically turned the boat athwart the current, trying to jam it in the tunnel. “Light brands—as many as you can!” he urged. “And call to your comrades—shout for all you’re worth!”

There was a thunk as the stern struck the tunnel wall, then the long pod swung round until it lay close alongside and was held there by hands clinging to any unevenness they could find in the rock. As the torches blazed the symmetrical outlines of the tunnel were picked out in sharp relief. Hoarse bellows echoed up and down it. “This way, lads! Over here!”

Answering calls came from over the water. Vorduthe feared that the other boats were hopelessly lost and that he was hearing the last doomed cries of men about to be turned over the lip of the chasm, but soon the shouts came louder and flickery light showed itself at the mouth of the passageway, and first one boat and then the other floated downstream toward them.

He breathed a deep sigh. “Thank the gods!”

Octrago was smiling, clearly pleased with the outcome of the operation. The newcomers checked their progress as they approached, pressing their paddles against the walls.