CHAPTER 46 - SEEKERS

The Chair, Muffin, and their entourage passed a number of busy shrines and temples on the climb to the Druid Gove. Along the northern path several temples were doing a lot of business saving souls and after it began to snow the Holy Hot Springs and Spa of the Profit of Hedon was packed. As they passed The Chair saw hundreds of little heads poking up out of the steaming springs. Each had a snowy patch on top of their heads. Muffin had laughed saying they looked just like Cappuccino Monks. As they passed the gate of the Temple of Hedonism Muffin downed two flagons of ale and resumed the climb. The courtiers all lit the insta-torches and the gloomy surrounds became illuminated in a flickering brilliant white light with harsh shadows cast into the dark forest. The higher they climbed the fewer seekers they saw. Many had turned back in the snow and dark and were headed for the temples below. Soon they passed a determined seeker still headed upward, who was carrying a box of Corneal Beers. How the seeker was able to carry a heavy load of beer all this was a mystery to The Chair.

The snow, which was light at the base of the mountain, became heavy as they approached the sacred grove. But The Chair noticed that some ground was volcanic in nature and was warm to the touch. Not hot, just warm, and the snow quickly melted and a kind of wispy ground fog developed in its place. The path finally leveled out and a broad bench of land opened before them. It was deeply wooded with ancient trees. “Cryptomeria, cryptomeria,” shouted a giddily happy Muffin.

The Chair looked carefully. Redwoods thought The Chair. In any event they were very very old. There was little or no under story, or ground vegetation, because the towering trees cut out all sunlight at ground level. The ground was warm and the entire forest floor was covered in a thick blanket of fog. The fog held low to the ground at about knee height. In the distance they could see, hear, and smell several enormous bonfires which cast a yellow and orange light into the vast collection of brownish red tree trunks. The light of the bonfires was covered in a kind of dome of fog and was dim at this distance, but they could see a long avenue before them leading to ancient gates.

Muffin raised his plastic sword in one hand and held his Zorro cape in the other and shouted “To Victory!” The royal party set off down the avenue to their appointment with the ancient Ceremony of Coronation.

The southern path proved a steep one and the Yellow Knights were forced to dismount and walk their steeds at the entrance to the Temple of the Maple Leaf. It was a Canadian retreat, but it had closed at sunset and no one was home. As they looked across the lower chasm they could make out another party with bright torches climbing along the northern route.

The path was dangerously slippery. Chris knew he should stop and rest the Army of the Yellow Knights, but there simply was no time. Zenith for the dead moon could not be far off he realized.

Without squires the going was tough, but there had been no squires in the Brick Layers Secret Society in years. Young people were simply not interested in learning a lot of secret handshakes, obscure terms, and odd little dances. “Ah,” Chris said to no one, “The Yellow Knights are so last century, just as my daughter claimed. So yesterday, it’s not funny.” No, not funny thought Chris. A better term would be desperate.

Chris took the lead but he could not see his hand before his face. There was some relief when the approached the Sanctuary of the triple faced god Avarice, Avidity, and Covetousness. The temple pagoda was brightly lit, but the gate was locked and an admission sign read Adults 10 lindens, Children Under Age of 10, 20 lindens. The Knights desperately needed a short rest. Chris banged on the gate with his chain mail fist. Soon a little man was seen scurrying to the gate a torch in his hand.

“How many in your party,” cried out the little man? He had all gold teeth Chris saw in the light of the pagoda.

“Ten, no nine” said Chris.

The little man looked up and said, “That will be 90 lindens, if you had been ten I would have given you a discount.” He said. Chris was tempted to ask how much, but he really needed to sit down.

“Ah,” said the little man “and another 10 lindens per horse for a total of 300 lindens.”
Chris looked at the horses. There were two per rider. “Do you take the Red Ink card?” asked Chris.

“Credit or Debit?” asked the little man. “I’ll give you a discount for Debit and a reduced price on unlimited access to our toilet”

“How much?” asked Chris.

“Lets say 600 lindens for the whole package, excluding of course actual entry to the temple, the use of the temple grounds, or any other service listed here.” He pointed to a notice board with hundreds of item listed, including heavy breathing, and oogles of the temple girls. The list went on and on.

When Chris was able to sit down on the steps of the temple, only 20 lindens, he regretted it. His steel undershorts, which were too small when he left the Capital, were now really, badly, and horribly too small

“I need some torches and a map,” said Chris.

“How many maps and what type or torches,” asked the little man?

“Sheesh,” said Chris.

As Sindy and Witney approached the initial climb of the eastern route they noticed a Mulberry farm and they purchased from the farmer four jars of fireflies. The farmer demonstrated how to control the amount of light the fireflies would yield. Say nothing and you got a flickering candle light equivalent. Sing to the fireflies about the glow worm and you got about ten candle power. If you yelled real loud and sounded like a girl firefly seeking a mate you would get a bright light.

“What does a girl firefly sound like,” asked Wintey. The farmer explained and both Witney and Sindy blushed. The jar sprang into a bright green blue light and then settled back to a dull glow. It seemed that the call of the female firefly got the males glowing with expectation and the females jealous and angry. The farmer was kind enough to attach the jars to a slender string which he placed around their necks.

Punky had hit the ground hard. She had hit several large branches on the way down and her leg hurt but she knew she would be ok. Punky could feel an ancient forest all about her. Here among the giant trees the wind seemed still and the ground covered with a thin fog. She touched the ground. The ground and the moss floor of the forest was warm. It was pitch black and Punky sensed the forest and fog rather than actually saw it. She called out several times, but there was no response. At the speed the Dread was making in the storm the crew was probably spread across the mountain side for kilometers. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she saw an orange glow perhaps 500 yards distant. She paused for a moment to inventory what she had in her pockets. One Testosa Grande in a tin tube, a half used book of matches, a bobby pin, a grocery list from last week which listed kitty litter among other things, and the dispatch box skeleton key. Not much here she thought but at least I’ll have a smoke. She bit off the end of the Testosa Grande and lit a match, it was a brilliant light to her dark adjusted eyes. She held the flame to the Testosa and puffed like a blimp climbing for altitude. The tip lit and she drew a big puff. Before she shook out the match she took a quick look around in the dying light. There were bones here she realized. Lots of bones. Very old bones and some not so old. Human bones. The light flickered out.

Punky set off in the direction of the dim orange light in the distance.

The Chair, Muffin in his Zorro disguise, and his entourage walked slowly up the gentle approach to the Druid Grove. The avenue was paved with ancient moss covered stones but the torches clearly showed that the path had been recently used and by a large number of people. Before them stood a series of monolithic stones standing end on end like marching toy soldiers all headed toward the flaming bonfire in the distance. As they drew closer they saw small fires lining the road every few feet providing excellent illumination of the avenue, the trees, and the stone monuments lining the road.

The still night was shattered by the distant roar of a lion. The household staff noticeably tensed with the cry.

Then looming before them was a tall and impenetrable iron and wooden gate anchored in two massive stone pillars. The Chair pushed on the gate and it did not move. Muffin laughed.

“Needs the Oath of Allegiance”, said Muffin. Then Muffin drew himself up as tall as he could in his short frame and spoke in the ancient tongue.

Chris could not understand a single word, for Muffin spoke in runes and symbols.

The gate trembled and then swung open. All but Muffin stood in awe of the spectacle before them. The field before them was brightly illuminated by four gigantic bonfires. One fire in each of the cardinal directions. Beyond the field the glowing pit of Mount Sodom could be seen spiting hot lava and spewing brownish smoke.

In the center of the field just above the ground fog stood the stone of sacrifice covered with yellow tulips. However the most amazing thing were the female warriors. Two files of warriors stood facing each other in total silence. They formed a lane three meters wide from the far dark end of the field to the sacrificial stone. Each file was three ranks deep. The Chair quickly calculated – 600. They were dressed in animal furs, leather, and many were completely nude. Most were smeared with blue pigment. Some were smeared with blood. The women warriors were heavily armed in ancient weapons, but many also held modern devastating weapons as well. The army did not move. The army did not speak. The army did not turn to look at Muffin’s party. The Chair knew they were expected.

Muffin looked about and paused in thought for a moment. He took note of the two smaller stones that flanked the sacrificial stone. Then Muffin spoke. “Uncrate that thing an put it here.” He said pointing to a space on the far side of the sacrificial stone away from the phalanx of Adel’s army of the Left and Right Hands of Circe.

Soon the Throne of the Montforte’s was assembled and carefully placed in the exact location indicated by Muffin. Muffin removed his Zorro hat, but not his mask, and sat upon the throne. He stared directly forward down the lane of warriors and did not move.