Cave of Listemious

The legend of the Witch of Lister kept any and all travelers far from the cave and the sound of her calling for help.

Harold knew that he could use this witch to his advantage, and if she was as powerful as the Dark Lord of the Underworld himself, he could make a deal himself. There was little in the book that gave too much away as to the location of the Cave of Listemious. But Harold would not be denied, he sent the Mages on long trips to find whatever they could about this place. They returned empty handed and in one case did not return at all, his fellow Mages said that they could no longer feel his presence on this plane. Harold banished them to the dungeons for letting him down, the reality was they were two of the most incompetent Mages to ever wear the robes. The third as it turned out was a well-placed informant answering to the Council. But Harold would never know that, it was causing Harold no end of frustration as he tried and failed repeatedly to find the Cave.

In desperation he turns back to the volume and re-read the story over and over, he was sure there was something in there that would tell him how to find the witch. The pages were not glued together, so as to hide a map in between, the binding was uncommonly well sealed. All the words were as they should be, none were out of placed or poorly chosen so as to hide a coded message. Everything was as he would expect, it was frustrating and Harold was losing patience with the whole thing. He hurled the book across the room, only to see it sail directly in to the hearth and onto the smoldering coals. The old leather covers burst into flame and started to consume the ancient volume.

Harold leapt to his feet and dove to the hearth to save the old book, he still firmly believed was the key. He batted the flames and tried to grasp the burning book, his sleeve caught alight and Harold was trying to bat out the flames with one hand while trying to bat out the flames on that arm with the other hand. To anyone looking on it would have been better than the best comedy act in the West End. He eventually got the flames out and dragged the book back to his desk. The outer covers were scorched and looked to be hanging on by threads, but something caught his eye. He carefully opened the front cover and there on the inner side was a series of lines, he looked closer and the lines started forming a map. Harold wanted to scream to the skies that he had found it, but he held it together, he needed to study the map and find the witch.

Harold stormed from his office calling for his Major-domo, he had the map now and he wanted to move quickly. It would be a long and arduous journey through lands that were mountainous and freezing cold. But he was determined to find the cave and finally grasp the prize that had eluded him to date.

"Hicks. Where are you man?" He yelled.

"Here Sir, how may I serve you?" The tall man replied.

"We are to travel to the Highlands, prepare for a long journey. I want a full Battalion escort and enough provisions for two months." Harold ordered.

"Yes Sir, when will you be leaving?"

"As soon as the preparations are made, I want nothing to delay this trip. It is of vital importance to the Crown, do you understand?"

"Yes Sir, I will begin immediately." Hicks bowed as Harold ran off down the hallway. He couldn't help but notice the singed clothes and the smell of burning wood, but he was the King, and it wasn't for Hicks to question his King.

Three days later a long convoy of trucks drove out of the Palace courtyard and down the main road towards the north-east. Harold sat at the window in his luxurious trailer as it drove along the streets of London. People were stopping and staring as the convoy rumbled through the city. Most just having a cursory glance before going about their tasks, they had no interest in the Usurper King and his doings. He was not loved by the people, but once he claimed the sword of power, he would have them on their knees in front of him. He would be the most powerful man in the world and he would make every country bow before his might.

In the trucks following his trailer were the heavily armed and armoured soldiers of his personal guard. Each man was no taller or shorter than six feet two. At six three, Harold wanted no man to look down on him, his petty ego could not stand the thought of being any less than those he ruled. A lot of whispering was going on in the trucks as the men wondered why their mighty King was driving up to this God Forsaken place. But Harold was mortally afraid of heights and refused to even consider the use of any aircraft for transport. He had once had to be drugged to be taken on a family vacation. As Harold saw it, he was the butt of all the private jokes, in reality he was seen as a poor young lad that was stricken with a malady that would prevent his ever rising to the heights expected of a Royal Prince.

Uther had taken a special interest in his brother, even though they were only half brothers, Uther loved his brother dearly. But in Harold's mind, he was taking pity on the poor little Prince that fears everything. No matter how hard he tried, Uther could not get through to the preteen Harold and finally gave up in defeat. From that time on, Harold did everything he could to achieve some sort of rank and respect in the armed forces, though never really earning any high rank. He was of course the brother of the next in line to the Throne, so he was elevated in rank regularly, though most were beyond his ability to carry out. When Uther rose to the Throne, he was inconsolably angry and vowed that one day he would take the crown from his hated brother. No he was the King and Uther was dead and no longer an influence on his life.

For two weeks the convoy travelled the back roads and tracks that led to the mountainous region of the Highlands. There had been many delays to deal with break downs and navigation problems, but on the fifteenth day, the Highlands stood before Harold and his convoy. From here it would be a long hard slog on foot, there were no roads where he was going, it was a place so remote and desolate that none went there except by accident. He had his escort form up and they moved into the cold snowy mountains. His Colonel of the Guard had ordered regular fly overs by heavy lift transports in case they needed any provisions or equipment dropped to them. Harold looked around as they began the first steep ascent, the area was desolate and did not encourage continuing. This was the place and there was nothing that would turn him away, he was single minded and committed.

The first day was hard and a lot of the soldiers were struggling under the weight of their kit, thirty kilos of equipment was hard work on level ground, but, the ground was frozen, slippery and rose at alarming angles from time to time. And so it went for the next five days, it was far too dangerous to travel in anything except daylight, even then the weather would close in without warning and they would have to hunker down and wait out the short, but vicious storms. One man was lost when the semi flat ground he was on gave way and he fell into the dark crevasse next to the rough trail. The Suited Soldiers handled the elements far better, the internal systems keeping them warm and the power assisted arms and legs took the pressure off their bodies. Colonel Travis ordered that the suited men swap with the light infantry each day so that the men had some respite from the weather.

Over the next six days five more soldiers were lost and ten were sent back due to injury, it was a death sentence to get hurt on these slopes, but there was nothing for it, the King would not be swayed from the goal he had set. The cost was not an option, if the men were so clumsy as to fall or hurt themselves, well then they paid for that clumsiness. Harold cared not a jot for the soldiers, there were far more important things to be concerned with. It was the thirteenth day, and even Harold was beginning to wonder whether the trip was worth the cost. He was suffering along with the rest of his escort. His armour had kept him warm and the uneven ground was no challenge for the powered armour. But eighteen of his escort had either perished or been forced to turn back. He sat on an out crop that offered a reasonably flat seat when he heard her.

The voice floated across the wind like a specter, defying the wind and noises that filled the air. He froze as the pure and beautiful voice caressed his ears.

"Help me kind Sir, I am lost in this horrible place." It sung to him.

"Where are you, My Lady?" He asked in return.

"Not far ahead, please oh please help me." The voice replied.

"Do not worry, My Lady, I am coming and I will assist you." Harold said before he knew he was speaking.

"Please hurry."

Harold stood up and began rousing his troops and he found a new source of energy, it was as though the last thirteen days had not happened. He strode off before most of his men had even risen from their prone positions. They were exhausted and just getting to their feet was a chore that was almost beyond them. Colonel Travis hurried to catch up with the King, it cost him most of the energy reserves that he had and was breathing heavy when he saw the King standing in front of a dark cave that sat in the crevice of the shear walls. As he approached he could see that the King was in some sort of trance. He reached out to touch his monarch's shoulder, but his hand stopped. There was something telling him to not touch the man.

"Travis, we have arrived, wait here, I must enter alone. Don't fret though, I will be completely safe and will return soon. Go back and set the camp, water the men and prepare to return to London.

"Yes Sir, are you sure you don't want an escort? It does nae look like a safe place." Travis asked nervously.

"This is the place I have searched for, I will be safe, now go and set the camp." Harold snapped.