Break through the door

They decide the best bet is to stay where they are and see if they can break down the door. Just as Roderick predicted, the ancient, rotted wood easily surrenders to Alex and Roderick’s swords. In the span of a very few minutes, they have succeeded in chipping away a large enough hole near the handle for Roderick to be able to reach in and open the door from the inside.

The two men step from the overgrown forest into a grand hall. Alex can tell at once that this was once a very grand and magnificent place. Even in its deteriorated condition, it is still rather impressive. Large marble stairways lead upward in a curve on each side of the hall. Statues, busts, and other sculpture adorn the perimeter of the room. Picture frames lay on the floor where they fell under the weight of time and neglect. One frame is still hanging on a wall, lopsided, but still holding the faded portait of a man with a crown and a scepter. Light comes into the room from large windows that surround the high ceiling. Several unlit candles and torches are in evidence, as well, having waited for who knows how long to be used.

“Well, pull down my undies and tickle my tenders!” exclaims Roderick. “Do you know what we’ve found, Alex?”

Alex shakes his head as he steps gingerly into the long-abandoned room. Everywhere he looks, he sees curiosities such as shelves of dusty books, cork-stopped bottles covered with a thick layer of dust, and a suit of armor that looks like it has recently become the home to a family of raccoons.

“I believe we’ve found the ruins of Claycook — the home of the ancient kings of Mirantia!”

Alex turns in surprise. “Claycook? You mean it actually existed? I thought those were just stories.”

Roderick picks up a dust-covered chalice and examines it. “Not just stories, my boy. Many a knight has fettered away his entire career looking for the home of the ancient kings. If I’m right, we’ve uncovered the greatest find in several hundred years.”

Alex quickly sets down the gold-handled dagger he had been examining and says, “But if that is the case, we must get out of here. The place is bewitched!”

Rockerick chuckles. “Relax, Alex. I said Claycook is real; I didn’t say that the stories are all true. Remember what I told you about Nobleheart and his exaggerated exploits? I really doubt that it was enchantments that drove the inhabitants away from here.”

Alex looks around, worry evident on his face. “If not enchantments, then what? Look at this, Roderick! Those who lived here left without taking anything with them! They just walked away — or probably ran away — or maybe they were killed! Anyway, something sinister has kept people away from here for centuries. I daresay no good will come to us by remaining here. I suggest we make haste to report the find to the king and let him send troops to secure the building.”

Roderick continues to wander around, picking up items and examining them. He chuckles and says, “Oh, we’ll definitely report this to King Malcolm soon enough. You’re in luck, Alex. Having a role in a find like this may nap you a knighthood much sooner than you had planned.”

That succeeds in distracting Alex from his fears. “A knighthood? For me? So soon? Are you sure?”

“I’m just saying that something like this is going to be a lot more interesting to Malcolm than another souped-up story about killing off dragons, rescuing fair maidens, blah, blah, blah.... If we can present him with Claycook, he’ll be falling all over himself to express his appreciation to us.”

Alex tries to imagine himself in the shining armor of a knight of the realm. “Sir Alex,” he thinks to himself. “Sir Alex the Discoverer! No... Sir Alex the Explorer? Hmm... Sir Alex the Restorer of the Ancient Throne...” He is so lost in thought about an appropriate title that he doesn’t hear Roderick’s question. Abruptly, he ends his daydreaming, and looks at Roderick, who is examining one of the statues. “I’m sorry, sir... What did you say?”

“I said that I’m just positive this is Claycook. Look at this statue. This is Ligglewidth the Younger. If I remember correctly, he was the grandfather of the king who disappeared at the time the throne was moved to Central City.”

Alex joins his mentor and looks at the statue. “Ligglewidth the Younger? Not to be disrespectful, but if I were king and my name was Ligglewidth, the first thing I’d do would be to change it to something like Stormaggedon Conqueror of All. And he was ‘the Younger,’ too; that means his father not only kept the name Ligglewidth, but thought it a grand enough name to pass on to his son. Maybe they hated each other?”

Roderick grins. “That long ago, who knows what Ligglewidth meant? For all we know, it was a boastful pronouncement about the size of his manhood. In any event, if I’m right, then having his statue here is a good indication that this is Claycook.”

Alex can’t help but glance down between the legs of the statue after Roderick’s words. He shrugs at the absence of any indication that the old king was particularly well endowed. “That’s another thing I’d do,” thinks Alex. “If I were king, I’d give orders to make sure that they do justice to my package — or even enhance it a bit — when they carve my statue. I’d not only want to be remembered for having a cool name, but I’d want future generations of ladies to look at me and wish they could have been mine!”

He says all that to himself, but to Roderick he asks, “Are there any reliable stories about what happened here?”

“It’s really hard to know what to believe. It’s been centuries, after all. You know the legends — that some magical curse was placed on the king and his family, and that the sole remaining heir to the throne barely managed to escape with his life before reestablishing the throne and building the current palace. They say that’s when the conflict between the magicals and the mortals began here in Mirantia. Another legend says that the one who escaped was not an heir to the throne, but was actually the one responsible for the curse and that the true monarch of Mirantia is still here at Claycook, waiting for the enchantment to be broken and the throne to be restored to its rightful owner. Who knows what to believe?”

The men look up at the windows as the setting sun ceases to provide the necessary illumination to the room.

“This would be a good place to set up camp for the night. Why don’t you go back and tend to the horses and bring back our supplies?” asks Roderick.

“Stay here? In this creepy old place?” Alex exclaims. “Surrounded by all these statues, staring at us, and who knows what else lingering around in this building?”

“You’re sounding like a superstitious peasant, Alex! Look around... This place has been undisturbed for centuries. I hardly think anyone is going to choose tonight to show up and cause us harm. I don’t know about you, but I spend enough nights sleeping on hard, stony ground, fending off the elements. If I can have a nice dry place to lay my head, I’m going to take it. Of course, if you’d rather sleep outside with the horses, that’s up to you.”