A Monumental Journey 3
The Underground River
by
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“Gentlemen what you are about to witness has not been seen by anyone except the early monarchy and the GVIN organization. Prepare yourself! Much now will be answered for you, but much will also be shrouded in mystery and remain unknown until it is confronted. Do not be disillusioned! Know this my intrepid young friends; know that the crew of the Heimdall has been chosen to accomplish a journey of great magnitude, a journey profound in scope, a journey that will test your wills and faith and courage and inventiveness more than ever before, a journey that will take you into a world unexplored and unknown to most surface dwellers, a journey that no one else in the whole of Gods creation has ever been able to complete in modern times. Know this also my friends, know that I am well pleased and humbled, and also thrilled to be allied with you in what you have been chosen to accomplish. Gentlemen, now, if you will…” The professor pulled open the massive door and we all passed through.
* * *
Ten thousand yards of impressive ramparts etched an asymmetrical line against the far distant subterranean horizon. Atop the rugged stone walls, banners of various crest, shape, and color floated sluggishly in light breezes. Through an enormous gaping hole in the massive granite dome, a sudden bathing of sunlight brilliantly illuminated the city and surrounding hills. It was spectacular! Clouds began forming further inland and, as I watched, lightening randomly etched across the skies in jagged white hot traceries. It seemed Lizzy had been correct; because of a unique inter-mingling of surface and sub-surface atmospheres, storms were possible in this vast underground labyrinth. Near two rocky islands offshore, dozens of smaller fishing craft were plying their trade, some with nets, some with poles, and some with bows and arrows. Smoke from dozens of smelting ovens billowed in dense clouds along the sandy shoreline south of the city. Near the ovens, carpenters and craftsmen were busily constructing longboats and smaller fishing craft. I could also see a bustle of activity outside the enormous gates and along the shoreline. Around the base of a gigantic statue, people appeared to be bartering and doing commerce with one another. Life seemed normal here. Anchored outside the surf-line at least thirty large vessels floated motionlessly in the dark waters waiting. As I watched spellbound, the flags atop the cities ramparts began snapping briskly in sudden restless winds; it seemed a storm was fast approaching from the distant mountains. No matter how I approached this intellectually, it was difficult to assimilate what I was seeing and feeling. This wasn’t a vision or some fanciful myth passed down through generations, nor was it an imaginary story shared around campfires, this was real! We had actually discovered a thriving Viking Metropolis down here in the Realm of the Ancients. The discovery was mind-boggling and overwhelmed me with the utter uniqueness of what we were doing together on this journey.
* * *
For what seemed the longest time, all I could hear was the soft deliberate breathing of people too captivated to utter a word. Around us the bottom was strewn with another cornucopia of mineral wonders in every size and shape, and similar to the pillars and colonnades of the ancient architecture of Rome, or the Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian architectural orders of ancient Greece, enormous stalagmites of Fluorite and Tourmaline rose to a height of thirty plus feet. In a lucid moment, one forceful and convincing, I gasped when I realized that if the water could have been extracted from it, that the Oski Grotto was as diverse and beautiful as the inside of a multi-faceted geode.
* * *
“Stand aside I say,” a man roared in the crowd, “for I will skewer that dark haired suckling pig and the worms will feast on his fat this day!” Pounding their chests, all around him laughed heartily and chorused their approval. Gripping my sword with both hands, I drew in a deep breath just as a huge scowling red haired man burst from the group and maneuvered towards me.
“Stand fast Gabriel,” John shouted, “the man is right handed and favors his left leg, remember your training little brother!”
Hundreds of hours of instruction came flooding back in a heartbeat and a spirit of peace and focus fell upon me. “I can do this; I know I can do this! Lord God, please give me strength to do this!” As he neared, I could see the man’s face was etched with animal savagery, and self-confidence oozed from him like fat from pit roasted meat.
“I will skewer thee and strip thy bones pretty boy,” He boasted scornfully.
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About the Book
Dr. Gabriel Proudmore wanted to leave Aberdeen Scotland and journey to the Southwestern States. Chancing upon the schooner Heimdall, on the docks one evening, he’s given an opportunity to embark with her crew on a journey retracing the original route the Rognvald Vikings had taken to Southwestern America. With equal amounts of eagerness and trepidation Gabriel joins and, after many months of challenging adventures they finally reach San Diego. Forced to put the schooner into dry-dock for repairs and modifications, the team decides to holiday in Southern Utah so they can rendezvous with the Professor, a brilliant confidant from Rabat. What he shares at the summit stuns the crew and changes their plans. Now, instead of sailing north to Montague Island, four of the crew will travel to a hidden base in Taroudant Morocco for secret training on state-of-the-art vessels. The others will journey into the Anza Borrego and climb Ghost Mountain to verify what GRACE 2 Satellite Surveillance has recently discovered, an entrance into a vast Underground River system. Tearfully, both groups part company to prepare for the greatest challenge of their collective lives, an extraordinary mission into a numinous subterranean realm in search of century’s old Viking civilizations.
About the Author
Richard L Cederberg is a strong-minded novelist who writes with spiritual foresight and purpose. Influenced by distinguished visionaries such as Jules Verne, J.R.R. Tolkien, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Robert Lewis Stevenson, Edgar Rice Burroughs, and numerous others, Richard’s desire and objective is to create the most unique Escapist Fiction possible. Understanding the power of well constructed ideas and words as being the most effectual way of transporting people into the realm of imagination, Richard cites from “The Road not Taken” by Robert Frost, a powerful line for the literary and poetic path he has chosen. “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”