Sebastian Darke: Prince of Explorers

Philip Caveney

Chapter 1: Lost

The small expedition plodded wearily along the jungle trail in the terrible heat of afternoon.

It comprised of four men and three beasts and they had been moving in this frustratingly slow fashion for several weeks now. When they had first found the trail, they had been excited, feeling that they were finally on the brink of making a discovery; but now it was beginning to seem as though it was leading them nowhere.

The expedition had been funded by a prosperous merchant from Ramalat, a man called Thaddeus Peel. It was an attempt to discover if ancient stories about a fabulous lost city deep in the jungles of Mendip, were actually true. The two men and one beast that led the expedition had recently emerged from a hair-raising sea adventure out on the oceans to the east of the known world. They had thought they knew a thing or two about hardship, but these endless green depths were teaching them a whole new lesson in endurance.

At the front of the column walked a young elfling, thin and wiry and dressed in the sweat-stained remains of what had once been a sailor’s outfit, but which was now little more than a collection of rags. The tricorn hat perched on his head was battered and misshapen. He was using a broad bladed machete to hack his way through the thick tangle of ferns and vines that overhung the trail and the effort of swinging the blade back and forth, had brought a thick sheen of perspiration to his pale but some would say, handsome features. His hands and forearms were badly scarred by thorns and his palms were blistered, where they had been rubbed raw by the handle of the machete.

He was called Sebastian Darke and he had once advertised himself as a Prince Of Fools. Every step he took on this desperate journey served to assure him that he may have been a bit hasty in abandoning that title.

Just behind him trudged a powerful warrior, sweating copiously in the chain mail singlet and metal breastplate that, despite the awful heat, he stubbornly refused to take off. He was called Cornelius, he was a Golmiran and unlike most men of his profession, he was very small, less than half the height of Sebastian. His smooth baby-like face was set into a permanent scowl and he was still limping noticeably from a recent wound incurred in the open sea, where he had suffered a minor disagreement with a young kelfer. The disgruntled expression on his face might have had something to do with the fact that his short stature prevented him from taking a turn at the head of the column. He simply couldn’t reach high enough to cut aside the greenery that hung down into the other men’s faces. It was an unfortunate situation but it was one that none of the others dared comment on.

Next in the column was a great shaggy brute of a buffalope, his massive shoulders and flanks laden with heavy equipment – ropes, tools, food, lamps, cooking pots, all strapped higgledy-piggledy around him. His name was Max and unusually for him, he wasn’t complaining. Having moaned incessantly for the past several days, he had lately taken to sulking in silence and his huge head was bowed until his snout barely skimmed the ground. He had been doing this for the best part of a day and it was a situation that was unlikely to last much longer, so the two men in front of him were making the most of it.

Behind Max walked the hired hands – two big, muscular men from Ramalat who rejoiced under the names of Karl and Samuel. Neither of them had been hired for their witty conversation, but for their ability to travel mile after mile through remote locations without ever complaining. Each of them led a small equipment-laden mule and like their owners, these beasts were not the brightest creatures in their species. Known respectively as Betty and Jasper, they were no great shakes at language and though on the first few days out from Ramalat, Max had made valiant attempts to engage them in polite conversation, using the common language of the plains, he now preferred to leave them to their own devices and when he had something to say, he directed his remarks to the upright members of the expedition.

And it was to Cornelius that he finally addressed his first question in several hours of travelling.

‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of stopping for a rest?’

Cornelius sighed. ‘I thought it was too good to last,’ he muttered. He glanced back over his shoulder. ‘We can’t stop here, can we?’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s too narrow.  We need to find a clearing.’

Max considered this for a moment.

‘Couldn’t we make a clearing?’ he asked. ‘With the machete.’

Sebastian laughed at this idea, though it had to be said, there wasn’t much energy in the laugh.

‘I love the we,’ he said. ‘What you actually mean is, I could make a clearing. But that would involve cutting down entire trees and I’m exhausted enough as it is. We’ll just have to keep going a while longer.’

Max gave a low mournful sigh.

‘Oh yes, well, that’s just the standard reply on this trip, isn’t it?’ He modulated his voice to mimic Sebastian’s lighter tone. ‘We’ll just have to keep going! Well, we’ve been going for what must be weeks now and what have we found? Absolutely nothing! When Thaddeus Peel told us this was an errand for the foolhardy, he wasn’t kidding!’

‘Give it a rest, can’t you?’ growled Samuel, from behind Max; and everyone turned to look at him in surprise. It was virtually the first time he had uttered more than a grunt since they had set off.

‘Oh, excuse me!’ said Max, haughtily. ‘I was only expressing an opinion.’

‘‘Pinion or not, here we be, like it or lump it,’ said Samuel emphatically. ‘Ain’t no use in complainin’.’

‘Arrr,’ added Karl. For a moment it looked as though he might be about to add something else, but he must have thought better of it.

Max swung his head back around to its former position and continued for some distance in silence, mulling over what had just been said. But Sebastian knew that it was only a matter of time before he returned to his theme.

‘What I mean to say,’ continued Max, ‘is how long are we going to go on with this fiasco? At exactly what point do we say, well, we’ve given it our best shot, we’re now completely and utterly lost and it’s time to head back to Ramalat?’

Sebastian paused mid swing and considered that one. He had to admit, it was a good question. He glanced back down the line and gestured to Karl. ‘You want to take over for a while?’ he asked.

Without a word, the big man strode forward, took the machete in one great fist and began to move again, the arcing blade cutting down great swathes of forest. Cornelius dropped back to take Betty’s rope, a look of resignation on his face. Sebastian realised how humiliating it must be for him, not to be able to do his fair share, but knew there was nothing he could do about the situation, short of carrying him on his back while he swung the machete and he simply didn’t have the energy for that.

He resumed walking just a short distance ahead of Max.

‘I know it’s frustrating,’ he said. ‘But Mr Peel is paying us a great deal of money to be here. And, should we find anything of value, he’ll pay us a great deal more.’

‘I’m aware of that,’ said Max. ‘ But for goodness sake, all we’ve seen in this hell-hole is jungle, jungle and more jungle. What do you suppose are the chances of happening upon an ancient city in the midst of all this?’

Sebastian was about to reply when he broke off at a sudden chattering sound in the treetops to his left. Everyone stopped and turned to look. Cornelius’s hand dropped instinctively to the handle of his sword but he grinned when he saw the creature that had made the sound, an agile, furry little beast that was swinging about in the trees, its face contorted into a comical expression.

‘What on earth is that?’ he wondered aloud.

‘It’s a boobah,’ Sebastian told him. ‘Don’t you remember? Princess Kerin had one just like it.’

The mention of the name made Sebastian thoughtful. There was a time when it would have hurt him to speak of her; but that seemed an age ago, before his trip to Ramalat and before he met Captain Jenna Swift, the commander of the Sea Witch and his current true love. Max, of course, couldn’t resist commenting on the name.

‘Ah yes, the fair Princess Kerin… or perhaps I should say, Queen Kerin. Lovely girl. You know, I always rather hoped that we’d head back in the direction of Keladon, one day. The Royal Stables did a marvellous lunch, one of the finest I’ve ever eaten. ‘

‘And you’ve eaten a lot of lunches,’ observed Cornelius, slyly

‘Indeed, I do think of myself as something of a connoisseur,’ said Max, missing the dig entirely. ‘Speaking of which, I wonder what delights we’ll have for our supper this evening. If I have to eat any more of that rotten… ah! At last, we’re coming to a clearing!’

Sebastian saw that he was right. The trail was finally widening out into a small opening in the midst of the dense ranks of greenery. There were more boobahs here, Sebastian noticed, swarming merrily amidst the lower limbs of the trees, chattering and gesticulating at each other, a great animated troop of them.

‘Perhaps we should try and catch one,’ he mused aloud. ‘They make good pets.’

‘Be my guest,’ muttered Cornelius, sinking down under the shade of a tree. ‘If you have the energy.’

Sebastian considered for a moment and then decided that quite frankly, he didn’t. He followed his friend’s example and dropped down beside him. He unstrapped his canteen and took a large swallow of warm, foul-tasting water.

‘At least there’s no shortage of this stuff here,’ he said brightly, offering the canteen to Cornelius.

The little warrior nodded and took a gulp himself, then pulled a face.

‘Not like the sweet cold waters of Golmira,’ he observed.

Max snorted.

‘Oh well, naturally! According to you, nothing’s as good as it is in Golmira! It’s a wonder you’ve never taken us there if it’s so blooming marvellous.’

‘I will, one day,’ Cornelius told him. ‘I’ll take you both there and introduce you to my parents.’

‘Oh goody, I can hardly wait.’ Max glowered resentfully at the two mules, who had lowered their heads and were chomping energetically at the lush green grasses all around them. The two handlers had seated themselves under another tree and had taken out pipes, which they were charging with tobacco.

‘Of course, it’s hardly likely to live up to this charming spot,’ continued Max. ‘I mean, look around us! We’ve got dense, stinking vegetation everywhere. We’ve got two mules demonstrating the fact that they’re the most ill-mannered creatures in existence. And we’ve got their owners who seem completely intent on polluting the already foetid atmosphere with their pipe smoke.’

‘Why don’t you belt up and browse a bit of grass,’ suggested Sebastian irritably. ‘It might serve to keep your energy up.’

‘Energy!’ Max gave him a disbelieving look. ‘I ate two mouthfuls of that stuff the other day and I was awake with raging wind all night!’

‘Yes, we did notice,’ said Cornelius, pointedly. ‘But don’t worry, I’ve made myself a set of ear plugs for tonight.’

‘Oh, ha ha! Please desist, I’m in danger of splitting my sides laughing.’

Sebastian and Cornelius grinned at each other. Taunting Max was one of the few pleasures they’d had on this trip.

‘We’ve got company,’ observed Samuel; and everybody looked up to see that a couple of the boobahs had clambered down from the trees and were advancing cautiously across the clearing, holding themselves ready to run if they needed to. Sebastian laughed at the anxious expressions on their faces. They were holding out their hands as if begging.

‘What do you suppose they want?’ he asked.

‘Food, I shouldn’t wonder,’ replied Cornelius. ‘But I’m afraid we have none to spare.  In fact…’ He reached down an arm to his belt and took out the various pieces that comprised his miniature crossbow. He began to slot the pieces together with well-practised ease.

‘What are you doing?’ hissed Sebastian.

‘I’m wondering if these creatures are good to eat,’ muttered Cornelius. ‘It would be nice to have a change from javralat and wild rusa.’

Sebastian reached out a hand to stay his arm.

‘You can’t,’ he whispered. ‘They have faces like little people…’

‘It’s not their faces that interest me,’ said Cornelius. ‘It’s their chunky little arms and legs. They’d roast up nicely over the fire.’

Sebastian made an expression of distaste.

‘But they’re pets, Cornelius! It wouldn’t be right.’

‘You said yourself, last night, you were desperate for a taste of something different.’ Cornelius had now finished assembling the crossbow and was pulling back the string. ‘We’ll just take one, for now, see what he tastes like. And if-’

He broke off in surprise as the boobahs suddenly looked over their shoulders in alarm. One of them issued a loud warning screech and they bounded away across the clearing before anybody had a chance to react. In an instant the whole troop had gone, vanished into the surrounding vegetation.

‘Shadlog’s teeth!’ said Cornelius. ‘What could have tipped them off?’

‘Shush!’ said Max. ‘Listen.’

‘I don’t hear anything,’ said Sebastian, after a few moments.

‘Exactly,’ said Max.