Read The Flames of Time (Flames of Time Series Book 1) Online

Authors: Peter Knyte

Tags: #Vintage Action Adventure

The Flames of Time (Flames of Time Series Book 1) (9 page)

BOOK: The Flames of Time (Flames of Time Series Book 1)
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As we approached, it seemed Marlow and the others had come to the same conclusion, but unperturbed were in the act of discussing how to get around it.

‘What about the explosives,’ Marlow was in the middle of suggesting as we joined them, ‘if we could get far enough into the pile, could we blow some of these larger stones outward.’

‘No, no,’ responded Peter, shaking his head, ‘we don’t have anywhere near enough dynamite for that kind of thing. We’ve got enough to break up some of the rocks, perhaps clear a few small obstructions, not to perform a major demolition.’

‘And bear in mind Rob,’ chipped in Harry, ‘while we’re trying to get through, we don’t know how far back this rock fall might go, or how fragile the cave or structure beyond might be.

‘Which leaves us with going around as the only option,’ continued Harry in a thoroughly business-like manner, ‘and that means excavating the sides… and you two are just in time.’ indicating Jean and myself.

 

It wasn’t long before my restful night was just a distant memory, as we each took turns at the backbreaking work of digging down and around the large lumps of stone that stood in our path. But at least the earth was still moist enough to keep the dust to a minimum. Within a couple of hours we’d managed to uncover the extent of the shaped rocks and had started to penetrate down through the surrounding earth and rubble to expose the sides. It was exhausting work, and once the sun was directly overhead we had to stop for fear of getting sunstroke. But by the end of the day, and with considerable effort from Mkize and the small number of other men we’d brought with us from Kenya, we’d managed to expose the extent of several larger rocks and find a head-sized gap between one enormous boulder and the surrounding bedrock.

We couldn’t be sure how far down the hole went, but as the gloom increased, and the ambient light outside reduced, we threw a couple of torches down into the hole, to see if we could make anything out of the interior. There was definitely a good drop inside, but as soon as the torches hit bottom they seemed to be extinguished in a pool of water, presumably the build up from the small stream which trickled out from amongst the rocks and soil that blocked the entrance.

It was too late to do anything more so we decided to call it a night and talk through our options back at the camp. One completely unexpected luxury we were able to avail ourselves of was the water coming out of the rocks, which turned out to be a warm spring, though without any trace of the salts and minerals normally associated with a volcanic or thermal spring.

While the day’s work had tired us all out, the progress we’d made and the challenge of finding a way through the pile of rocks, was enough to keep us talking late into the night.

It was clear to us all we hadn’t really come prepared for the scale of the work before us. Yes we had some tools, and some explosives, but we just hadn’t anticipated the large stonework that faced us. That left us with the two options. We could either go back to Fort Victoria, re-equip, and risk the authorities getting curious about us. Or, we could stick it out and risk losing several days before finding out whether we’d be able to get in.

In the end we decided to spend another few days trying our luck before making the decision. That way we’d at least have a better idea of what kind of help we might need if we did end up going back to the Fort.

To say that we all slept well that night would probably be an understatement. But the following morning, full of aches and pains, we were all up early and heading over to the site together for another day’s labour.

We’d decided to focus on one side of the rocks, excavate as far as we could and then if we didn’t have any luck, start work on the other side. In the light of day, and with a fresh perspective, I think we were all quite pleased to see how much we’d already managed to get done. The sense of accomplishment aside though, we started on our second day by re-examining our work to see if the morning light would allow us to see any further into the gaps and crevices we’d uncovered the previous day. There was definitely a large space behind some of these rocks, but we still couldn’t tell whether it was the cave proper which Marlow sought, or just a large cavity amongst the debris.

There was nothing else for it but to start work. So we picked the side where we seemed to have made slightly better progress and began work again. We’d managed to get far enough back into the debris on this side to discover the leading edge of a great rock that obviously formed a substantial part of our obstruction, possibly even the same rock that framed the top edge of the rock fall. There was clear evidence this titanic lump had been shaped and worked by human hands, but strangely only on one side, with just unadorned rock on other.

‘My friends,’ said Jean rather suddenly, after we’d all been digging away for a couple of hours and the heat was beginning to get uncomfortable, ‘I believe I begin to see how these pieces of stone may have once fitted together.

‘Surely what we now uncover, this stone, shaped and carved as it is on just its lower side, this was a roof of some variety, perhaps supported by the remnants of the pillars we have found, to form a sheltered entrance into the cave beyond?’

‘What, and you think this great slab may have just swung straight down obscuring the entrance?’ I asked, slightly irritably, not quite understanding the significance or value in such speculation.

‘Exactly George,’ Jean responded, ignoring my ill temper, ‘which suggests, does it not? That by focusing our excavation upon the edge of this megalith, and digging down to its base, we may discover the side or mouth of the cave which it once sheltered, as well a possibly the floor leading into that cave.’

 

It was as good an idea as any, and as such after a brief discussion we decided to focus our efforts in the manner suggested by Jean, digging straight down the edge of that great stone. It was tough going, and we nearly came unstuck by two large rocks that it was only just within our power to move. But after another few hours work the progress was clear and several feet of the megalith’s edge was now visible, as it butted up against what was hopefully the bedrock forming the cave mouth. There were small gaps here and there down the exposed edge, which seemed to reveal the same cavity we’d glimpsed from above. But we were still unable to see for sure where it might lead.

It was Harry’s turn next in the hole working with Mkize in the last shift before we’d be forced to take shelter from the mid-day sun. The two of them taking it in turns with the shovels and passing the loosened earth and stone back up to myself and Jean at the top, while Marlow and the others took a break nearby.

 

‘There seems to be a slightly wider opening down here,’ shouted up Harry, between shovels of earth, ‘but there’s another damn rock blocking the way.’

I could see what he was talking about over his shoulder, just as the gap between the bedrock and the roof slab seemed to be broadening out, the top of another stone had been exposed. Harry was kneeling down now and had managed to get his arm into the hole up to the shoulder.

‘I can feel the join between the three rocks, it definitely gets broader, maybe even big enough to get through.’

This was enough to spur us on, and within a few minutes Harry had scraped away nearly a foot of earth, exposing more of the gap and the new rock that seemed to be blocking it. There was still no telling how big it was, or how far down it went. But it was clear that whilst it filled the gap between the other two much larger stones, it wasn’t a perfect fit by any means, and Harry was able to push as much earth through the gaps between the three bits of rock, as he was able to shovel out.

The sun was getting high in the sky again, and we would all soon have to take a break to get away from the heat, but this looked like it could be a breakthrough, so I stood and shouted the others to come up and take a look. I could hear Harry mumbling something under his breath as he knelt down to stick his arm through the gap again. Not that I could hear the words, but I could tell something about it was aggravating him, until eventually he just stood up and started stamping on the exposed top of the smaller rock and insisting it should move. It seemed like a futile gesture, and I couldn’t help but smile as I saw him kicking at what could’ve been another huge boulder, but then the thing moved, just six inches at first, and then another couple, and then suddenly the entire rock fell away.

The dislodged rock was obviously bigger than Harry had expected too, because as soon it disappeared into the cave, a lot of the earth and smaller stones he’d been standing on went with it, closely followed by Harry.

CHAPTER 7 – STEPPING STONES

 

 

Mkize was scrambling out, helped by some of the others, but there was no sight or sound of Harry from the abyss as I called out his name.

The others had obviously seen that something was up, and had raced up to join me. I briefly explained what had happened. The earth around the hole we’d dug, and the gap that had now opened up into the cave, forming a steep sloping funnel.

We sent Peter and the severely shaken Mkize to retrieve a rope and some torches from the camp, while the rest of us waited and continued to call after Harry.

 

‘I’m going to try and get down to the mouth of the hole, and see if I can see anything more from there,’ said Marlow.

It was a good fifteen feet down, surrounded by loose and crumbling earth, and with very little at the mouth to hold on to or stop yourself from sliding straight down into the darkness below. But by using one of the shovels as a makeshift tether, we managed to lower him most of the way, and he was just able to slide the last few feet and brace himself across the opening to see down into the hole.

‘Harry! Harry are you all right?’ Marlow was shouting into the cave. ‘I think I can just make him out. Yes he’s waving.’

A moment later and Peter had arrived with the ropes and torches and we were inside and had found Harry, before the danger of what we were doing had even occurred to us. He’d obviously been winded, and he was holding his head as though that was the problem also. It made for a worrying minute or two not knowing how badly he was hurt, but after Jean offered him his dampened handkerchief and some fresh water he recovered enough to explain.

Apparently in a graceful attempt to stop himself from sliding into the hole, he’d grabbed at his shovel, the handle of which had unfortunately swung round and hit him squarely between the eyes.

Much relieved that it was only his ego which was seriously hurt, we helped him to his feet and started to look around the cave. It was a good fifty feet tall in places and at least half that again wide. As we lit more torches and were able to see further into the darkness, we began to realise just how much rock and earth was blocking the entrance. We could’ve spent weeks trying to dig our way in, even with the proper equipment, and still not managed it. The rock fall blocking the entrance was colossal.

Realising how lucky we’d been, we turned back to the cave, which was fairly clear of debris, but at the same time was quite plain. The floor seemed to have a slight incline, down which a small stream of water flowed in a purpose built channel, before swelling to form a sizeable pool behind the natural damn of the rock fall. On closer inspection, both the dome of the chamber and the walls had obviously been worked, to give them a smooth and regular finish, whilst the floor seemed to have not only been smoothed, but also laid with expertly carved paving seamlessly incorporated into the bedrock of the walls.

Checking that Harry was fit to walk, we moved up the incline toward a rectangular tunnel, which we could just make out at the back.

 

‘This is amazing workmanship, for an ancient structure,’ commented Harry, still holding Jean’s damp handkerchief to his brow. ‘I don’t know of another pre-mediaeval structure outside of Egypt that displays such geometric regularity.’

The stream was partially paved-over in the tunnel, creating an almost stepping stone like effect, with glimpses of water between each step. But as the tunnel broadened out into a second cave, the channel once more became exposed, leading initially to a curious nine-sided pool in the middle of the room, lined in plain white stone. This pool was in turn fed by an identical channel on its opposite side, coming into the room through another tunnel.

We must’ve been the first people to see these chambers in who knew how many hundreds or even thousands of years, yet the place seemed pristine. This second cave was slightly larger than the first, but seemed to show the same signs of human craftsmanship on the floor and ceiling. But as we moved further into the room and spread out around the central pool, our torches illuminated the walls, which were not only shaped and smoothed, but also carved into exquisite relief’s of figures, scenes and even writing. More striking still were the colours and ornamentation of these relief’s, rich ochre’s, reds and yellows intermixed with the brightest cobalt blue, black, and in places even gold leaf, as well as what may have been either precious stones or coloured glass.

‘That cannot be,’ said Harry walking over to the nearest wall, his aching head and handkerchief forgotten, ‘this is… Cuneiform lettering, in southern Africa. It can’t be, it just isn’t possible.’

‘Perhaps it was some remote colony or settlement, of which the archaeological world has yet to learn,’ suggested Jean helpfully.

‘No, no, you don’t understand Jean, this isn’t just slightly out of place, this is wholly out of place.’ responded Harry, never removing his eyes from the walls of the cave, ‘To find… Egyptian remains in such a place would rock the foundation of our understanding. Norse or even Dynastic Chinese, would all be outrageous, but all would somehow be more expected than this. This… not that I’m an expert, but… and the detail, such carving. It cannot be.’

 

I could see Harry was completely overwhelmed, his gaze and out-stretched hands throwing fantastic shadows in the flickering torchlight as they moved back and forth across the wall as though not knowing where to start.

BOOK: The Flames of Time (Flames of Time Series Book 1)
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