The Rise of Plant Man, Lord of War, Conquest and Revenge_Green Monk of Tremn, Part II by NJ Bridgewater

Author:NJ Bridgewater [Bridgewater, NJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-23T06:00:00+00:00

Ifunka and his erstwhile captor, the Priestess, were near the base of the staircase when they heard the pitter-patter of footsteps far above them. Someone or some people were descending rapidly near the entrance.

“They’re coming,” whispered Ifunka. “We won’t be able to get any wooden planks to form a bridge.”

“Quickly—we must return to the treasures below.”

“But how shall we reach them?” asked Ifunka.

“You fear too much, my sweetness. There is always a way but we must reach it before they come for us. My life is void if you do not succeed just as my heart is void if devoid of your love.”

“My heart belongs to another,” said Ifunka firmly. “Arwa is my true love.”

“Khalam-Sharru’s daughter is a mere child. I can teach you the fullness of true passion and bliss.”

“I think not, Priestess.”

“Let’s go; perchance we can find a place to stow away and enjoy one another.”

“Focus!” he urged her. “Take us back to the treasure and help me to find a way of reaching it.”

“As you wish, my rabbit.”

They rushed back from whence they had come, racing to return to the fathomless abyss which protected the ancient treasures of power before they could be espied by the pursuing watchmen. Before they reached the final chamber, Ifunka noticed a subtle light which hovered to the far right of them. He paused.

“What is it? Come on!” the Priestess shouted.

“Wait a moment,” he commanded as he continued to ponder the glow which seemed to increase in radiance, flash and then decrease until it became only a faint light.

“I can see it,” she said. “But what is it?”

“I thought you might know,” said Ifunka, disappointed. “We’d better investigate.”

“Investigate? You’re going to get us killed. Who knows how many evil creatures live in this pitch blackness?”

“Maybe so,” he admitted. “But we were heading for a dead end and certain confrontation with the Sage and his watchmen, who are no doubt making for us as we speak. Soon they will see us and then we will have no choice but to fight or die, or fight and then die, as the Great Spirit wills.”

“And if this betokens an even worse fate?”

“As the Great Spirit wills.”

“Very well, then,” she agreed. “Let’s find this light of yours, my rabbit, whether it lead us to doom or fortune.”

“Come then!”

They rushed into the darkness, not knowing what lay ahead of them—whether a hidden ledge and precipice or a sheer wall; they could not discern. They continued for some time, never reaching the light which remained ever equidistant with its previous manifestation, as if it either moved constantly in reverse or appeared the same distance at all times by decreasing in size or radiance as they approached or, perhaps, like some distant star, it was so huge and so distant that the distance they traversed was insignificant in comparison with the remaining span of traversion.

“This is taking forever,” the Priestess moaned.

“For an old woman, you’re considerably lacking in patience.”

“Old woman!” she scoffed. “An old woman who could eat you

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