Deeds of Their Past - 20. Chapter Twenty

Slowly opening the door to peek out, Nathan was relieved to find the dusty road almost deserted. Pulling up his hood, he stepped out toward the horses. Brohm emerged a few moments later with their supplies, and they were soon on their way to the north end of the large village. The late afternoon sun drew lengthening shadows from the surrounding buildings, allowing them to hide in plain sight.

“I guess we should’ve figured out which road leads to Tornel Keep,” Nathan said.

“What? I reckoned you knew.”

Nathan shook his head. “I guess our best bet is to look for an old path heading into the forest.”

As they reached the northern edge, neither direction gave a clue to their destination. Hoping for the best, Nathan pointed east, nudging his mount to a trot. After nearly three hundred metres and no sign of the exit, the road ended abruptly in a cul-de-sac. A few people glanced up from their work, not used to receiving visitors this far down the road.

“Hello, can I help you?” one man asked.

“No, thank you. Just made a wrong turn,” Nathan said while turning his horse to leave.

The folks they’d passed earlier, who had largely ignored them, now watched in curiosity as they retraced their steps, and Nathan felt as though they were on display for the entire village.

“Hey!” The voice wasn’t friendly, and Nathan stiffened in his saddle.

“I recognize you two! Stop!” another voice said.

They urged their mounts to a gallop, launching dust clouds into the air. Neither of them looked back to see if they were being pursued.

“Up ahead,” Brohm called out, pointing to a small opening in the trees.

Nathan had no idea if it was the correct path, but their situation forced them to swerve onto the overgrown road, darkened by large trees overhead. Slowing their horses on the uneven ground, Nathan risked glancing back. The exit, a bright mouth at the end of the tunnel of trees, shrank rapidly.

“I don’t think anyone’s giving chase,” Nathan said.

Brohm peered over his shoulder to confirm. “That was too close. C’mon, let’s keep moving.”

As they travelled onward, the forest grew denser and the road narrowed. After a few hours, the dying light forced them to stop, and they set up camp fifty metres from the path, building a small fire just beyond a large fallen log.

“What do you know about Tornel Keep?” Nathan asked, sitting against the log beside him.

The big man shrugged. “Didn’t you hear the stories when you were a kid?”

“No, I didn’t grow up around here. I’ve never heard of the place before Morgana mentioned it.”

“Well, the story goes that Tornel went mad and ordered to have everyone in the keep killed. Obviously his men didn’t follow the order, and the bishop had him locked in the dungeon until they could figure why he wanted everyone dead.

“That night, Tornel managed to conjure some kind of evil spirits. They invaded the keep from below and, following Tornel’s order, killed everyone. Apparently the bodies were pretty messed up.

“When they found Tornel’s cell, the floor and walls were covered with runes and symbols drawn in blood, his own blood. He died because of it, and he still haunts the keep to his day, tormented by the spirits he summoned.”

Nathan chuckled. “A tall tale.”

“Well, when you’re a kid, you’re gullible, yuh?”

“Do you have any real information about the keep?”

“I guess not.” Brohm poked at the fire with a stick. “So if you didn’t grow up here, where are you from?”

Nathan gazed beyond the trees, pulling back distant memories. “I haven’t thought about that in a long time,” he said wistfully. “I grew up in the Western Steppes.”

“Really? I’ve not heard much about those lands. You crossed the Great Divide to get here?”

“Yeah, that wasn’t a fun time. It took nearly two months to cross.”

Brohm was astonished. “Two months!”

“I travelled in an expedition with a group of explorers and merchants.”

"Why’d you leave home?”

“Well, I . . . never really had a home. Never knew my parents. And never got a straight answer about who they were.”

“Wow. That’s gotta be tough. Not knowing your ma or pa.”

Nathan shrugged. “Can’t miss what you never had. Anyway, I gave up trying to figure out my history. There was nothing for me there, so I decided to try making a new life for myself here.”

Nathan rose to place another log on the fire. “It was during that expedition I met Graham.”

“Your lover?” Brohm asked.

Nathan nodded. “You get to know someone pretty well when you’re together for a stretch of time. It didn’t take long for us to notice each other.” He smiled, realizing the similarities in their current situation.

“How long ago was all this?”

“I was twenty-four, so twelve years ago.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Time is strange.”

* * *

At first light, they struck camp and continued north on the abandoned path. The thick canopy above only allowed a subtle hint of daylight, tinting their surroundings a greenish hue. Vines grew in small patches amid the branches, yet as the day progressed, the trees became choked with the snaking tendrils, accentuating the wild nature of the forest. At times, they had to slow down to move around smaller trees that had taken root in the road.

After hours of monotonous travel, they emerged into a clearing, welcomed by bright afternoon sunlight and a breeze that brought the undeniable smell of the sea. Once their eyes had accustomed to the light, they saw the ragged dark ruins of Tornel Keep silhouetted against the sky.

Nathan slowed his mount to take in the sight. Despite the warmth, and comforting trill of cicadas and birds in the distance, a shiver ran up his back. The old keep filled him with a strange uneasiness, and judging by Brohm’s face, he felt the same way.

They approached cautiously, riding through long grass that dominated the clearing, erasing any sign of the road. Nathan heard a subtle hint of ocean waves hitting the coast, and spotted dark clouds looming on the horizon to the east. However, from that distance, he couldn’t guess the heading of the storm.

Nathan shivered again as they rode into the shadow of the high, crumbling walls. The air felt curiously cool, as though the keep absorbed warmth from its surroundings. The entrance, a wide archway in the stone wall, revealed a small open courtyard within. Lichen-covered statues, posing heroically, stood in the corners. In the centre sat a fountain filled with murky water, a larger statue emerging from it, presumably Lord Tornel himself. Wide steps on the left and right led to a covered colonnade surrounding the courtyard.

Dismounting, they guided their horses into a stone-covered stable. Returning to the courtyard, Brohm ventured right, climbing the steps into the shade of the colonnade. Dark portals leading into the keep beckoned them, and Nathan peeked into the first one they came upon. Making out a few details within, he found a small antechamber with three corridors exiting in different directions. Two led into darkness, yet sunlight shone from around the corner of the third.

“I’m gonna get that torch. I reckon we’ll need it,” Brohm said, heading back to the stable.

Nathan nodded, and stepped into the antechamber toward the lit corridor. The stone walls dulled the sound from outside, allowing the keep’s empty silence to fill his ears. It was strange to consider that so many years ago, this was a bustling place filled with people. Now, only a crumbling, forgotten skeleton remained.

The corridor continued left around the corner, with a series of open windows on the right side, unveiling the grassy clearing and forest beyond. Opposite the windows were wooden doorways. Some were shut tight, others partly open and hanging askew on rusted hinges. Nathan couldn’t help feeling as though someone was watching him from the darkness within.

“Where’d you go?” Brohm’s voice echoed from around the corner.

He stepped back and saw the big man in the antechamber with the lit torch in hand, peering into one of the dark corridors. “I’m over here.”

Brohm joined him, and they continued down the long hallway. Coming to the first half-opened door, Nathan tugged on it, only to pull it from its hinges completely. He jumped clear as the heavy oak slab fell to the floor with a loud clatter, a cloud of dust rising from the commotion. Brohm glanced about nervously as though the sound would wake someone. As ridiculous as it seemed, Nathan felt the same way, not wanting to disturb anything more than they had to.

“You okay, yuh?”

Nathan nodded. “Let’s see what’s in here.”

Holding the torch carefully in front of him, Brohm stepped into the dark room. To their disappointment, it was empty except for broken chairs in one corner. Whatever purpose this room held would remain a mystery.

“I guess they took everything when they left,” Nathan suggested.

Peeking into the other rooms, they discovered similar findings. The hallway veered left into darkness, and they carried onward, ignoring the remaining doorways lining the passageway, until finally coming to a four-way intersection.

“This place is like a maze.” Nathan said.

“I reckon we went the wrong way. This seems like living quarters.”

Brohm stepped past him along the left hallway, but instead of finding a long corridor, it ended abruptly. To the right, a wide stair with shallow steps led down.

“We’ve gone this far,” he said. “Might as well continue.”

They descended, arriving at a great hallway leading left and right. Mouldy, torn tapestries lined the walls, and large braziers sat in the centre of the hall at regular intervals. Indirect, dim sunlight came from both directions. Brohm turned right down the hall, halting at a rusty splatter on the floor and nearest wall.

“That looks like blood,” he whispered.

Nathan scratched the flaky substance with a boot. “If it is, it’s very old.”

The rusty trail continued farther down the hall, originating from a solid wooden door, and Nathan reached for the iron ring handle to open it.

“Wait! I dunno if that’s such a good idea,” Brohm said, a nervous tremble in his throat.

“Don’t worry. Whatever happened here was a long time ago.”

He pulled the ring on the door, its tired hinges shrieking their discontent. Brohm gasped in surprise as the sound reverberated down the long corridor. They held perfectly still, listening for something to break the silence. Nathan pulled again, but the bolts holding the ring came loose, and the whole assembly clattered to the ground.

After a moment of hesitation, Brohm handed the torch to Nathan. "Let me try.”

Cramming his fingers into the small gap, he strained against the rusted hinges and forced the door open. Nathan peeked in with the torch, revealing broken stone steps awkwardly spiralling down into darkness.

“I’m willing to bet this is the way to the dungeon,” he said grimly.

At that moment, a blinding lightning flash lit the dark space, and thunder shook the foundation. Nathan nearly tripped as he spun around in fright, finding Brohm wide-eyed in a similar state. Quickly recovering from the shock, both men couldn’t help but chuckle at their foolish reaction.

Brohm peered down the steps, sniffing the musty, dank air. “When we talked about looking for this amulet, it didn’t seem like a bad idea. But standing here now, I admit I’m nervous.”

Nathan nodded. “I won’t deny this keep certainly has a creepy quality to it. Anyway, it’s too late in the day to begin our search in earnest. Let’s find a place to rest for the night.”

Leaving the dark landing behind, they stepped further down the hall, arriving at more wide and shallow steps. Beyond was an immense dining hall with three-storey-tall windows at the far end. A few had stained glass still intact, and despite their muted colour, still gave an impression of the grandeur that once was.

The far corner of the hall had collapsed, revealing a dark and turbulent sky, and rainwater dripped from cracks in the mortar of the stone ceiling. A series of massive firepits lined the wall, and Nathan stepped toward the nearest one.

“It seems dry. Let’s set up camp here,” Nathan offered.

The arrival of the storm bolstered the chilly air within the keep. Using old wooden chairs as fuel, they lit an ample fire to warm themselves. Brohm’s stomach growled, rising above the din of the storm.

“You hungry, big guy?”

“Yuh, but I don’t want to go back in the dark to the stable though.”

Nathan gave him a grin. “Follow me.”

He led them back to the wide hall, past the dungeon door and the wide stair they emerged from earlier.

“You’re going the wrong way,” Brohm said.

Nathan took his hand and led him farther down the hall, toward the dim light beyond. They came to wide steps mirroring those of the dining hall, and climbing up, arrived at the courtyard.

“You see? We just went the wrong way in.”

“How did you know this would lead here?”

Nathan shrugged. “It seemed logical that the keep be built that way.”

Brohm, a bemused look on his face, watched Nathan as he headed to the stable to retrieve their supplies.

* * *

An urgent shake woke Nathan from his peaceful slumber, and in the light of the fire, Brohm’s expression told him something was wrong.

“Th-there’s ghosts,” the big man whispered quietly in his ear.

Nathan rose up to look over Brohm’s shoulder, finding seven ghostly figures faintly glowing in a white-blue fog. They appeared to be speaking to each other, yet their voices were distant and jumbled. None seemed to notice their presence.

“The stories were true,” Brohm continued. “This keep is haunted.”

“Yeah, but they don’t seem very hostile.”

Nathan took a nearby piece of wood and chucked it across the hall.

“What did you do that for?” Brohm asked.

It hit the floor in a clamour, and Nathan observed the outcome. None of the figures even flinched at the sound. He tentatively stood up, and took a hesitant step forward.

“Be careful,” Brohm called out in a hoarse whisper.

There was no change in the ghosts’ behaviour as he approached, and Nathan’s confidence grew with each step. Reaching the closest one, he waved nervously to greet it.

“H-hello?”

There was no response, nor any indication that it detected him.

“Hello,” he spoke again with more presence. “Can you hear me?”

They continued their conversation, oblivious to his presence. It was then Nathan noticed two more figures flanking the wide stairway. They looked to be armoured guards standing at attention, holding ghostly pikes. Keeping an eye on the seven figures, he quietly padded toward the nearest guard.

Nathan waved a hand across its face with no reaction. It stared past him, shifting its weight from one foot to another. Nathan held out his hand to touch the blue entity, and felt intense cold as he brushed against its arm. The sound of a sizzling, like meat burning over an open flame, quickly became apparent. He jerked back to examine his fingers, but found them unharmed. He attempted again, prodding deeper. It felt like dipping his fingers into ice-cold water, and the sound of sizzling increased the deeper he pushed. Without warning, the guard’s head snapped to his direction, and Nathan fell backward in fright.

“They’re coming for you,” Brohm called out.

Craning his head, Nathan caught sight of the figures stepping toward him with purpose. Scrambling to his feet, he tripped over a loose brick and tumbled into Brohm’s arms. The blue figures strode past, leaving the large hall with the two sentries in tow.

“I thought the guard saw me,” Nathan said, gasping for air. “But I realize now it wasn’t looking at me, it was looking past me at the other ghosts.”

Brohm rushed to the exit of the hall and peered into the dark. “They’re gone.”

“It makes a lot more sense why this place was left abandoned. Even if they’re harmless, nobody wants to live in a keep filled with ghosts,” Nathan said.

“How do you know they won’t hurt us?” Brohm asked, returning to Nathan’s side.

“Well, I guess I don’t know for sure, but I touched one and nothing happened. They just seem to be reliving their day.”

“Their last day?”

Nathan shrugged. “Try to get some rest. My heart’s still pumping from that fright, so I’ll stand watch.”

“I doubt I’ll be getting much sleep either,” Brohm mumbled, resting his head beside Nathan.

“Just try. I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

Despite Brohm’s statement, he fell asleep in short order. Nathan watched over him, taking comfort in the big man’s gentle snoring.

More ghostly apparitions entered and left the hall during the course of the night. Not once did they notice Nathan’s presence, solidifying his assumption. He pondered whom they were, how long they’d been repeating their actions, and if they were aware of this hell they were trapped in.