Origins Of The Magdon: Vercovicium, Page 2

  ‘No, no young Archibald.’ Thomas said as he waved his long finger dramatically. ‘Notes are from the field. The knowledge my boy, the knowledge should always be here in your head.’

  Now Archy was on the back foot. For a moment his mouth opened and closed but words would not form, and he was grateful as Mole stepped in to save him.

  ‘Professor I expect young Archy is tired from his trip, perhaps I could show him his accommodation before we begin the exams?’

  For a second the professor looked on the verge of annoyance, his lips thinned and his wildly bushy eyebrows furrowed. It only lasted a second before his face once again softened and was replaced with his animated expressions.

  ‘But of course,’ the smile was warmer and only cemented Archy’s suspicion that this man was totally unpredictable. ‘You can take a teacher from the school but never the school from the teacher. Do you prefer Archibald or Archy young man?’

  ‘Archy if you please sir.’

  ‘Archy it is then, and no more sirs.’ The animated professor slapped a mighty hand onto Archy’s shoulder and once again turned him to face the ruins of the fort. ‘Welcome my boy to Hadrian’s Wall but more importantly, welcome to Vercovicium. You have four weeks to show me if history really is your passion.’

  And with that Archy had taken his first delicate steps into a new world.

  Chapter Three

  A morning for exploring

  On the eighth day, Archy could barely recognise the clothes he had brought with him. Much akin to Mole and the others that moved around the Roman Fort excavation Archy’s knees were tattered, and his hands had become stained with mud and dirt.

  The morning had begun early as the excavation had revealed a discovery that had got the bushy eye-browed professor more than a little excited. Seated around the campfire while falling into an uneasy sleep Archy had heard the professor describing the new find with gusto and enthusiasm.

  As was commonplace, as he spoke the man appeared animated with his hands. When they weren’t painting unseen images in the air around him, his fingers twiddled with the black and grey tufts of hair above his eyes.

  Awoken by the earlier than usual clattering of pots and pans Archy had joined the leading group for a rushed breakfast before they were all, except for Archy, headed up the main hill to the fort walls.

  ‘Sorry Archy,’ Mole murmured as he collected the large bags of tools for the professor and began to carry them towards the fort walls. ‘This is a very delicate stage, and the professor is very particular about how we excavate new finds. He has suggested you go off and explore to the south of the site, perhaps make some notes about the barracks?’

  Archy could not hide the disappointment as his shoulders slumped and Mole was quick to notice.

  ‘Come on; there’s plenty we haven’t found. I know it’s disappointing, but you know what the professor is like.’

  Archy could not feel anything but warmth and trust for Mole, who had taken him under his wing since his arrival. The group of historians was an unusual bunch. Most kept themselves to themselves. Others in their spare time pored over books scribbling notes and recording their daily chores. Mole, being the youngest, had adopted Archy as a little brother and spent as much time as he could nurturing Archy’s enthusiasm.

  ‘I suppose,’ Archy scuffed his feet on the grass and tried to offer Mole an attempt at a smile. Before Mole could say anything more, his name carried in the wind from the hilltop. He turned and jogged the heavy bags up the hill to the waiting group leaving Archy behind.

  Alone Archy shuffled back to the smoking fire in front of the row of tents and sat himself down slowly on one of the logs. Burying his hands into his pockets Archy tried to find the enthusiasm that had so quickly left him. He sat for some time before he decided to make the most of his time alone from the group and stood up.

  Mole had given him a battered leather satchel to use. Archy stuffed his journal, a small hand trowel, some fabric and sticks in it. With the bag of basics together he leisurely made his way down the hill away from the main site and towards a small isolated ruin he had found a few days earlier.

  Exploring the edge of the woods Archy had found the piled stone walls of a small separate structure on his third day at Vercovicium.

  When he had excitedly dragged Mole and the professor from another animated rant to see the site the old professor had been quite curious. Pulling his own, far older and more battered journal from his trouser pocket the professor had made some notes and warmly congratulated Archy on the find.

  Their excitement was short-lived as the crumbled walls offered them nothing of real interest. They had been quick to return to the main site and cast aside Archy’s derelict find quickly.

  Surrounded by a spattering of trees the isolated building wasn’t something that any of the scholars or students cared much to explore. Gathered around the campfire the same night none of them could offer Archy anything in the way of an explanation for the lonely ruins. Most had put it down to an isolated store and left it at that. There was certainly likely to be nothing of value compared to the main site at the top of the hill.

  That said it was Archy’s find and as he had the time he decided he would see what the strange outcast site had to offer him. Using the sharpened sticks and torn fabric, Archy began to mark out his work place by tethering the fabric to the sticks to make little flags.

  With the location marked Archy jotted down their positions in his journal and stepped over the waist high remnants of the wall and began his amateur search.

  The day rolled on, and although the trees shaded him from the warm summer sun, he still felt the sweat beading on his brow and across his neck. Hours passed, but Archy was in his element. Throughout his search, he discovered a few arrowheads buried beneath the mossy ground. Of course, they were nothing of note to the rest of the team, but each find filled him with a new sense of achievement.

  It was as Archy sat eating his forgotten lunch well past the middle of the day that he made the most exciting discovery. Perched atop the wall Archy rolled a large stone back and forth by his side absently. As he devoured the last of the sandwich, he picked up the rock and sat it in the palm of his hand testing the weight of it.

  Readying himself to return to his ferreting within his self-laid site he nonchalantly threw the heavy rock across to the other wall and prepared to get back to work. Something caught his attention about the sound of the rock as it collided with the wall and fell to the ground.

  There was an echo in the air. The sound of the rock hitting the wall carried off for a second before disappearing. Looking around Archy found another stone and did the same again. Once more the sound echoed for a second before disappearing.

  Fuelled with curiosity Archy grabbed his trowel from the ground and darted over the point of the wall where the rocks had hit. Marked by the stones he had thrown Archy tapped the wall and leant himself closer to listen. Each tap of the rock produced an echo. Looking over the wall, Archy realised this particular section sat partially buried against the slow slope of the hillside within the trees.

  Tapping again Archy was satisfied there was something behind the wall and searched desperately for a leverage point for his battered rowel.

  It did not take long for him to find a loose enough stone and to pry it free of the crumbled wall. Beyond the stone was nothing but darkness and Archy desperately scrabbled to free more of the stones until he had made a hole in the wall big enough for his head.

  Desperate to realise what it was he had discovered Archy sprinted back to the campfire and roughly withdrew a smouldering log from the fire.

  Archy jogged back; it took seconds to wrap the smouldering log with material from the flags. With a little blowing, Archy encouraged a flame creating a makeshift torch.

  Carefully Archy pushed the flame through the hole in the wall. His head and neck quickly followed the light. With his eyes adjusting to the flickering flame in the darkness Archy gasped in surprise.

&n
bsp; His eyes focussed on a stone staircase descending downwards into the dark, damp hillside.

 

  Chapter Four

  Into the unknown

  Scrabbling to pull aside the aged but secured stones Archy felt the skin across his fingers become rough and tender. Eventually, after an hour of hard graft, the hole was big enough even for him to get through. Reaching for his satchel and withdrawing a battered lamp Archy paid no attention to the consequences of venturing into the darkness and the unknown.

  Finally, the wick of the lamp caught and the flame danced within the metal frame. Gently Archy closed the glass door on the front. Happy with the light Archy reached through and placed the lamp on the top of the stairs beyond the hole in the wall.

  Slipping the strap of the satchel over his head he secured it as best he could and squeezed himself through the jagged hole in the stones.

  The air was cold; he felt a shiver run down his spine. The smell of damp soil was rich in the air and lifting the lamp from the cold stone step Archy saw his hands were shivering. The shake in his hands was a mixture of excitement, anticipation and a natural reaction to the cold but it did nothing to stem his curiosity.

  Carefully he panned the lamp-light around and could see only a half dozen or so steps ahead of him and darkness beyond. Treading carefully he slowly began his descent into the darkness as the light from the opening in the wall grew smaller and smaller behind him.

  Droplets of water dripped from the ceiling and pooled on the steps the deeper he got. Roots from the trees above dangled like fingers that clawed at him as he moved. The roots had long ago found their way through the gaps in the stone tunnel that surrounded the stairwell.

  Pushing the dangling roots aside all Archy could hear was the sound of his racing and ragged breaths.

  ‘What is this place?’ He said only to himself as the stairs began to turn to the left and any sign of his makeshift entrance disappeared completely.

  After a few minutes of slow, purposeful steps downwards Archy felt the floor level out beneath him. Glad to be on the steadier ground he held the lamp out in front of him and allowed his eyes to adjust to the all-enveloping darkness.

  Looking around, to his side a large stone bowl caught his attention, and he moved closer to look. Dropping to his knees, Archy directed the beam of light onto the bowl. To his amazement, it had been intricately carved from a rock that was rooted firmly in the ground. Inside it, thick black oil sat undisturbed. A layer of dust and dirt had settled on the surface, but he could see patches of the glassy oil beneath.

  Cautiously Archy withdrew one of the short sticks from his satchel and offered it to the flame within the lamp. As the sharpened tip smoked and caught alight, he removed it and dropped it into the bowl.

  The fire flickered for a moment and then dwindled until it was almost extinguished. Suddenly and unexpectedly the yellow flame coughed, and the oily contents of the bowl burst into flame sending Archy reeling back from the burst if fire. His eyes strained against the sudden bright light and instinctively he shut them.

  In the newfound darkness, Archy heard the fire crackling wildly in the bowl. In his mind could trace the sound as it seemed to move away from him. Slowly, fearful of the brightness, he opened his eyes and saw a trail of flickering flame now leading away from the bowl.

  It slowly traced around the edge of the vast expanse at the bottom of the stairwell. Finally, the fire completed a cycle of the room and the second bowl of oil he had not seen erupted in a shower of fire and sparks behind him.

  Astounded Archy looked around and saw a massive cavern now bathed in the dancing light of the fire. Archy was mesmerised and slowly began to step away from the bottom step and deeper into the cavern.

  Archy’s mouth was agape and he could scarcely believe his discovery. Suddenly his foot connected with something on the floor sending it clattering away from him. Stopping in his tracks, Archy looked down and saw the pale source of the sound. Bending down, he waited for his eyes to focus in the dim light. Archy found himself staring into the empty eye sockets of a human skull.

  Archy stumbled away in fright as the lifeless sockets stared back at him; he fell hard to the cold floor. Scrambling backwards away from the skull his back collided with something else solid and he spun his head to see what it was. To his horror, he now sat against a pile of skulls. Dozens and dozens stacked against the wall with eyeless sockets staring out in every direction.

  His heart raced in his chest. The realisation of the dangers of entering alone was now dawning on him as he stood himself up and spun around slowly.

  ‘Calm yourself,’ he barked into the darkness as he tried to steady his shaking hands and beating heart.

  Taking a handful of calmed breaths, Archy closed his eyes and tried to steady himself. After a little time, his heart had stopped pounding quite so hard in his throat and he dared once again to open his eyes.

  Slowly he looked around and saw the pile of skulls in front of him. They were piled high against the wall and in the flickering light they almost looked alive. The sight of them chilled him and filled him with an unnerving feeling of dread.

  Turning away from the skulls, Archy caught sight of a battered shield at the side of the pile of bony remains. Treading carefully so as not to disturb the precarious pile of remains he moved across to the shield and looked closer.

  The shield had lost the bottom third through centuries of exposure to the damp. For the most part, however, the rest remained intact. The metallic edge was dented and damaged, from years of exposure or battle, he did not know. Looking closer Archy saw the circular end of a leather document pouch pinned beneath the shield.

  Moving the heavy shield aside Archy’s excitement once again took over from the fear as he looked upon the document pouch. It appeared the shield had protected it from the destructive elements of the cavern. The pouch was mouldy but intact and brushing the green mildew aside Archy delicately lifted the pouch from the ground.

  Opening the leather binding Archy slowly withdrew a delicate scroll and opened it. His shaking fingers rattled the papyrus scroll. Archy could not make out the writing on the scroll. He recognised it to be Latin, but the flickering light made it hard to read. The only thing Archy noticed that kept appearing was the word Magdon. Unsure of its meaning he replaced the scroll into the pouch and stood up as his knees began to ache.

  Once again turning away from the skull pile Archy noticed that a new trail of fire had begun to spread across the floor from the edges to the centre where now he could see a dark stone altar was standing.

  From across the room, Archy could see that something was lying on top of the eerily jet black stone altar.

  Chapter Five

  The darkness beneath the ground

  Archy felt drawn towards the altar as the fire pooled in a circle at the base. He had been so absorbed having found the leather case that he hadn’t noticed the fire creeping across the floor like a red snake. Now however he could not fail to see it. Now the dancing flames cast shadows across the impressive stone table but what was on it remained in shadow.

  Whatever lay atop the table did not move. It was something large and having slid the leather pouch into the leather satchel Archy moved cautiously across the cavernous room towards the altar.

  Moving closer Archy slowly began to take in the impressive size of the figure atop the jet black stone. As he stepped over the narrow channel of burning oil, he could feel the heat from the dancing flames. Stepping to the side of the massive stone table Archy realised it stood as tall as his chest.

  ‘What is that?’ He gasped as he stepped onto the raised platform that surrounded the altar.

  Raised up Archy could see what appeared to be a partially decomposed skeleton laid atop the altar. He could just about make out the familiar outline that looked to be human, but the arms and legs seemed too long. A strange matted fur was attached to various parts of the skeleton, and a large chunk of the fur appeared stuck to the chest of the sk
eleton.

  The chest was like nothing Archy had ever seen. Even in his science lessons at school, he had never seen anything like what lay before him.

  Archy could see the skeletal outlines of a rib cage but instead of a gap between each one, the whole chest looked to be of solid bone. Carefully he raised his shaking hand and delicately tapped against the solid bones, just to check.

  Quickly he pulled back his hand as the solid feeling beneath his fingers confirmed it was bone. Looking further up the skeleton Archy finally rested his gaze on the head and gasped uncontrollably.

  Until now Archy had thought this to be some giant or oversized man but when he saw the head he knew it was nothing of the sort. The skull atop the broad shoulders was most definitely not human; it was more animal. Two stumped horns protruded from each side at the top of its head, and two empty eye sockets sat facing outwards on either side. The long nose looked to be that of a dog, and a row of razor sharp teeth was still attached to the long, powerful-looking jaw.

  Archy ran his fingers across the teeth; he shivered at the thought of anything, or anyone, being caught within the impressively large jaws. The skull was smooth to the touch and oddly it felt warm in the cold, clammy cavern.

  ‘What are you?’ Archy asked the silent skeleton as he leant in closer.

  In the flickering light of the flame, he could not see the colour of the bones. It was clearly not the natural colour of bone he expected to see. It appeared a mottled colour, a mixture of cream and grey from what he could tell. Along the arms and legs, the bones were rough and uneven with small dimples and spikes along their length.

  The left arm of, whatever it was, looked damaged and broken. The long fingers of the open hand had been snapped off and the bone above the wrist looked cleanly broken.

  Moving around Archy looked at the size of the thing’s hand and placed his hand on it to compare. The fingers alone were as long as Archy’s entire hand, but the palm seemed compact almost the size of his palm.