The steps were even and well-spaced and thus easy to climb. Soon he was so high that he could barely see by the dim light from the entrance below. He edged across to the left wall and, running his hand along it for support in case he stumbled, continued to climb. He ascended more slowly now careful not to miss a step in the darkness. Nevertheless, the steps continued to rise in an unbroken rhythm so that his feet always landed firmly.

After what seemed like an age he began to sense a lightening further up. Soon the faint glow became a grey square and in turn the grey square became the top of the stairs. With the last step of the stairs Trivian found himself at the end of a long dimly lit corridor. Maybe some two hundred strides ahead the end of the corridor was clearly visible as a bright daylight filled rectangle. However, little of this light reached him at the top of the stairs and the bright glare served more to dazzle his dark adjusted eyes than to illuminate his surroundings. Of more benefit was the pale light filtering in dimly through one or two of a series of slits spaced regularly a few paces apart along either side of the corridor.

Trivian shielded his eyes from the daylight with his hand and tiptoed towards one of these before cautiously peeking through. Beyond, he could just make out a small room. The light seeping in around the edges of a narrow half open door from an unseen corridor beyond only served to create a jumble of shadows on the floor. He moved on to the next slit with similar results. He paused and listened, there was no sound, nothing moved. He gave up on the slits and started towards the daylight. About half way to the light the slits ended and the walls continued smooth and unbroken. At the unadorned opening through the floor continued evenly without threshold or door step.

Trivian stopped just inside the corridor for a moment. He had become so used to the darkness that he now felt reluctant to leave the perceived safety of the shadows. In the harsh daylight outside he would be exposed to whatever might be watching and waiting for him. He gave a brief shudder. Then he pulled himself together. This was ridiculous, nothing was out there. He took a deep breath and stepped out into the light.

He was briefly blinded by the glare before his eyes adjusted. Once he could open his eyes he looked about and realised that he was standing on a broad balcony, wide enough for ten men to stand abreast, with a stone balustrade that was decorated with a regular pattern of large circular holes. The balcony curved away around the perimeter of a vast circular chasm. Trivian walked over to the stone parapet. It came up to about his chest so that he couldn’t lean out and had to crane his neck to look up. The space was like a gigantic shaft that had been drilled down into the core of the island. Above him a series of similar balconies, each progressively more ornate, ringed the cylindrical opening as it stretched up many storeys to the open sky, visible as a white disk, far above. He turned his attention downward.

He couldn’t see over the top of the stonework so instead he dropped to his knees and stuck his head and shoulders through one of the larger holes. He could now see that his was the lowest balcony and beneath him the cylinder descended smooth sided to a half flooded floor of broken boulders and stone blocks barely visible in the shadows far below.

Trivian’s thoughts returned to his own level. After standing up a quick perusal showed that, with the exception of the passage he had just exited, no openings were apparent in the wall anywhere around his balcony. In fact the only other feature of any note was exactly opposite him where a broad stairway set into the wall appeared to lead up to the next level. He wrinkled his nose in thought. A big question mark was beginning to form around the whole concept of dungeons and wailing children. If the only other way off this balcony led upwards how could there be a dungeon full of wailing children buried in the depths of the island? He walked slowly around the balcony and towards the steps. As he did so he gazed up at the ever changing view above. Higher up the balconies did not all run unbroken around the opening. In many places their sweep was interrupted by flying towers and buttresses built out to overhang the drop whilst in others the parapet was missing where it had presumably collapsed and fallen to the floor far below. Still higher up vegetation grew out over the precipice and hung down from the lip smothering the highest ledges and softening the topmost edge of the cylindrical space.

Once at the stairs Trivian climbed up to the next level where he was confronted by several choices. Around this balcony a number of doorways and passages opened onto the walkway, furthermore, not only was another large staircase evident, again directly opposite him, but two smaller sets of steps where placed halfway around on either side. He headed around the curve to his right and started to look in at each doorway and window as he came to it. Some openings offered access to small rooms whilst others lead off into the darkness. Some had smoke stained lintels and some were blocked by debris. Nevertheless, they all had one thing in common, they were all completely devoid of any signs of life or indeed anything of any interest at all. By the time he had arrived at the first set of stairs he had, more or less, given up on finding anything of interest on that level and had made up his mind to head directly up to the next higher level and try his luck there. Thanks to his concentration on the openings on the second level he had not looked up in quite a while. As he climbed the narrow flight he took the opportunity to glance up at the balconies above him once again. His steps faltered and his heart skipped as his eyes met a spectacular sight that the curve of the space and the overhang of the balconies had previously hidden from him. He stopped and gawped at it aghast.

Above him the smooth sweep of multiple balconies was interrupted by a single overwhelming feature, a great stone façade with multiple arched and circular windows. Great carvings of men and beasts appeared to climb and crawl around the filigree of stonework. On either side two figures, standing like sentinels, towered the full height of the tracery wall whilst in between many lesser human forms appeared to be frozen in combat whilst trying to repel the many terrifying creatures that seemed determined to force their way through the window frames into the space beyond. Placed at the peak of the arched façade atop an intricate rose window sat a splendid King on an ornate throne.

Clearly, the façade marked something significant, a throne room perhaps, and surely that meant treasure. This thought galvanized Trivian into action. He burst into a run and raced up the stairway and along the next balcony. He paid no attention to the various doorways on this level. He could only think of getting up to the level of the façade as quickly as possible and so didn’t pause at the next steps he came to but sprinted up. It was so far to climb that his legs had started to burn and he had started panting long before he had reached his goal. He began to slow but pressed on as quickly as he could. It didn’t help that he had to re-trace his steps at one point when his path was blocked by a gap where a section of balcony had broken away. All in all, by the time he had climbed to the top of the last flight of steps he had slowed to little more than a shuffle and his legs were shaking and unsteady.

He stood for a moment, leaning on the balustrade, to get his breath back and took another look across to the stonework on the far side of the chasm. He was now much closer and at a better angle so that he could better appreciate the intricate art work. The carvings, though gigantic, portrayed an exquisite level of detail. It seemed that every possible hair, feather and scale had been picked out individually and the expressions and grimaces on the faces were as if of living men and creatures suddenly frozen still. Most impressive of all was the crowned figure sat resplendent on a fantastical throne. Gazing at the regal figure, Trivian began to feel that there was something odd or unsettling about this King.

A long hard look revealed what he had previously missed. The battle garbs, armour and weapons, along with the tyrannical expression on the face and the muscular athletic frame beneath the chainmail, had fooled him at first. But now it was clear, this was no King, it was a Queen. Trivian found this very odd. Thanks to the bedtime stories he had heard as a baby, in his mind’s eye Queens were always meek and gentle. Fighting was the preserve of Kings, Princes and noble Knights. He had another look at the figure, perhaps he was mistaken. Nope, it was quite definitely a female sat on the throne. He shrugged, why not? She certainly looked like she could handle a sword! His strength now returned, Trivian walked slowly around the balcony towards the foot of the tracery. As he approached he realised the symbolic purpose of the great Sentinel carvings that towered on either side to the full height of the facade. Each stood, feet planted firmly at shoulder width, on a plinth that capped an arched doorway. The sentinels were guarding the doors. Trivian walked up to the door under the feet of the nearest sentinel.

The archway was easily wide enough for two carts to pass each other and the top was higher than three men could reach stood shoulder on shoulder. The entrance was secured by thickly studded double doors that were stood resolutely in place. Despite their scratched and dented surfaces their gravitas spoke of an impenetrable thickness and weight. He ran his hand across the weather and beaten wood and then tried one of the heavy pull rings. It was so large he could comfortably use both hands to pull it, but after years of immobility it had frozen in place and try as he might he couldn’t even lift it. Clearly, if he couldn’t even move a single pull ring then getting the whole door to move was going to be far beyond his meagre strength. Nevertheless, he couldn’t resist a last vain attempt to move the door and using all his weight he pushed hard at it with both hands.

Nothing moved.

With a huff of resignation he stood back and looked around himself again. This balcony had already been much wider and grander than any of the others he had been on but just before arriving at the sentinels it had begun to expand until at the foot of the façade it was 3 to 4 times wider again. To some extent this was due to the fact that the carvings and windows were set back into the surrounding stone wall a little, suggesting that they had been carved out rather than built up. However, the greater part of the additional width came from the fact that the balcony itself jutted out over the precipice like an enormous pulpit. Indeed at the widest point the floor and balustrade even rose up in three steps to a dais with what closely resembled a lectern.

Trivian strolled over and climbed onto this little stage. Hooking his elbows onto the top of the parapet he lifted himself up and peeped over the edge. What he saw made him drop back to the security of the floor at once. The enormous sheer drop to the shadow cloaked boulders far below was so giddying that it made him instantly queasy. Even now, with the sight of it blocked by the railing, the thought of it made him unsteady on his feet. It felt like it was trying to drag him down, even through the solid stone floor. He turned his back to the drop and studied the carvings whilst his vertigo subsided. Up this close the stone work was truly spectacular in both scale and detail. The Queen, especially, now looked so regal and terrifying that he could hardly bring himself to take his eyes from her. She seemed to look down at him with such aloof disdain that he began to feel small and loathsome. He would have stood there much longer, entranced by her image, had something in the corner of his eye not distracted him. He glanced in that direction.

Had one of the lower carvings just moved?

He studied it more closely. It was a mighty creature with snarling grimace and muscles tensed to pounce upon an armoured warrior who, with raised lance, was vainly attempting to keep the slashing claws at bay. He waited patiently, studying the way the artist had portrayed the scaly skin rippling over the bulging muscles.

Nothing moved.

Eventually, he shrugged to himself. Perhaps it had been the shadow of a passing cloud or bird. He glanced up at the perfect blue disc of sky above him. It occurred to him that, though this cavity with its myriad of ledges would make an ideal nesting location for any number of sea birds, he had not seen a single one since entering. There wasn’t even any streaks of guano. He shrugged again. Whatever. He had better things to do than worry about the imagined movement of a statue. There was a King’s ransom in treasure to be had in the halls behind the façade. He caught himself and, with half a glance up at the monarch above, corrected himself. It was going to be a Queen’s ransom. Grinning broadly at his own wit he turned his attention back to how to get in.

The second single door below the other sentinel was considerably smaller than the first one he had tried and, though set deeper into the wall and apparently equally heavily built, it looked considerably less intimidating than the first. This impression was born out by the fact that it was not set solidly in place but rather was hanging slightly askew where its bottom hinge had given way. This had allowed the bottom corner of the door to tilt in, away from the doorframe, to leave a narrow sliver of a gap.

Trivian eyed the dark slit as he left the pedestal and walked over to the door. The nearer he got the more convinced he became that the opening was just big enough for him to squeeze through. He came up to the door and gave it an exploratory shove. He had no desire to get pinned in place if he dislodged the door whilst trying to push through. Despite being askew it didn’t move. He crouched down and, gripping the edge of the thick door as best he could, pushed and pulled as hard as he could manage. Again, no movement. It appear immovable enough for him to try and push his way through without the risk of it getting dislodged and trapping him.

He stood back up and patted himself down to make sure he had neither loose folds in his clothes nor bulging pockets that might get snagged or caught. All clear. He took a deep breath and, squatting down again, slid his head and shoulder into the opening. The gap was actually even wider than it had first appeared and Trivian got his upper body through easily. However, he didn’t get much further than this as the wall inside the doorway was so close that his left shoulder hit stone before he could get himself round the edge of the door. However, with one eye he could peer into the gloom of the passage beyond. He gave his eye a moment to adjust and was soon able to see why the door was remaining so stubbornly immovable. Pilled against the back was an assortment of furniture pieces all of which were large and heavy. Beyond this he could dimly make out the rest of the corridor. On the walls were hung the shadowy suggestions of paintings and the tables were covered with piles of shadowy shapes.

Treasure!

He had been right. Now he knew he had to get in. He shoved, squirmed and scrabbled but all to no avail. He couldn’t make his bones bend and neither could he get the wall or door to budge. He extracted himself and had another think. The angle that the door was hanging at meant that the gap was widest at the bottom and narrowed to a point at the top. If he lay down on his side and wriggled he might just be able to get round at the bottom. Putting this plan into action, he lay down on his left side on the smooth dry stone floor and reaching above his head gripped the edge of the door and began to pull and wriggle himself inside.

Next Chapter: Chapter 5.