Magnus Mills: Explorers of the New Century

Guthrum cast a quick glance at Tostig, then proceeded to gaze solemnly at the ground. Meanwhile, a faint smile crossed Tostig’s face.

“Well, you’ve found us,” he said. “And we’re just on our way back.”

“How did the reconnaissance go?” Thegn enquired.

“Very interestingly.”

“Is…”

Thegn was forced to break off because without a word his two commanders suddenly stalked off in the direction he’d just come. He followed in their wake, peering now and again at his dim surroundings, but asking no further questions.

When they reached camp they came across Thorsson, hard at work updating the rudimentary map. A large sheet of paper had been unfolded and spread out on the ground, with a lamp placed close by, and Thorsson was kneeling over it. In a case beside him lay a number of pens, each of a different ink, which he was using to add more detail, shading in the latest section of the gorge and writing its estimated dimensions. Also shown were the lower reaches of the dry river bed, the coastal area around the blockhouse, and the region of scree to their west. The greater part of the map was blank, except for a point in the far corner where a bold X had been marked, along with the letters AFP.

“Ah, Thorsson,” said Tostig. “Looks as if you’ll be on your knees for many hours yet.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Thorsson replied.

Just outside the circle of light stood Snaebjorn. He gazed down in silence, regarding Thorsson as he carefully transferred measurements from his logbook on to the map. Meanwhile, Thegn walked round and crouched down by the far corner.

“Is this the Agreed Furthest Point?” he asked, indicating the bold figure X.

“Correct,” said Tostig.

“We’ve still got a long way to go then.”

“Oh yes,” was the answer. “An awfully long way.”

They all watched while Thorsson completed the day’s observations; then Snaebjorn announced that supper was ready. This was enjoyed by each individual alone in his tent, after which the lamps were extinguished. A stir of bells at the foot of the rock wall signified the spot where the untethered mules had settled down for the night. It was starting to get cold and they’d gathered close together for the long wait until dawn.

Next morning Thegn made a point of being first up, even before Snaebjorn.

“Glad I’ve caught you,” he said quietly, as the latter emerged from his tent. “I was wondering if I could give you a hand with the mules today?”

“You can if you want,” Snaebjorn replied.

“In particular I’d like to go over the ropes again, to make sure I’ve got to grips with that adjustable knot you showed me.”

“I’ve already given you several demonstrations. Weren’t they enough?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Well, you’ll have to wait until I’ve taken my tent down.” Snaebjorn glanced at his wristwatch and then began work, reducing his tent to a neatly rolled pack in four and a half minutes.

“Marvellous,” remarked Thegn. He tagged along as Snaebjorn fed the mules, prepared the men’s breakfast, and carried out a host of related duties. Only when these were complete was it time to begin loading.

“Now you know this is the standing part, don’t you?” enquired Snaebjorn, holding a section of rope in his hand.

“Yes, got that,” said Thegn.

“Right. Now you take the other part, make a loop, pass it round and twist. Then you pull the loose end through and tie it off. Simple.”

By this time other members of the expedition were up and about, and while the two were thus engaged Thorsson happened to pass by on business of his own. After he’d gone Thegn said, “That’s a fascinating map they’re drawing, isn’t it?”

“Not a bad job at all,” agreed Snaebjorn.

“Thorsson seems confident he’s pinpointed our exact position.”

“He’s pretty close, yes.”

Thegn stopped what he was doing and glanced at Snaebjorn. “How do you mean?”

“I mean that I’ve cross-checked his calculations and found them to be more or less correct.”

“So are you telling me you understand navigation as well?”

“Of course.”

“Marvellous,” Thegn uttered again. “Navigation, ropemanship, camp cuisine, mastery of the mules. You really are quite a polymath.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Snaebjorn. “As far as I’m concerned these skills are mere prerequisites for the journey we’ve undertaken. A man would be a fool not to learn them.”

“So he can be first to plant the flag?” asked Thegn.

“If that is his primary aim, yes.”

“Then I’d better start practising.”

“Thegn!” called Guthrum from the middle of the gorge. “Have you breakfasted?”

“Yes, thank you!”

“Well, don’t forget you haven’t taken your tent down yet!”

“I’m just helping load the mules!”

“It’s all right,” said Snaebjorn. “I’ll finish here. You’d better go and get packed or they’ll very likely leave you behind.”

“They wouldn’t do that, would they?” queried Thegn.

“They might, but even if they did you needn’t worry: we’re leaving a clear trail of prints and you’d soon find us.”

In the event, Thegn was not left behind when they got moving again half an hour later. The day’s journey had a marked beginning. Dawn had been cloudy, but just at the moment of departure a few rays of sunlight appeared, bathing the upper walls of the gorge in an acute glow. As the travellers peered up from the murky depths, they could clearly see a thin strata of blue rock compressed between the other layers. Then the rays weakened and the gorge was again cast into shadow. By this stage the diffused light had begun hindering progress considerably. Several times during the morning Tostig called a halt to discuss the matter with Guthrum. They were both in agreement that although the use of lamps was preferable, the relative scarcity of fuel made these items a luxury which should be reserved for camp life only. Therefore they had no alternative but to manage by any means they could. Fortunately, the senior members of the team were well practised in adjusting to difficult circumstances, quickly learning to ‘cheat’ the twilight as they found their way along the gorge: sometimes by squinting through half-closed eyes; sometimes by listening for echoes; and sometimes by adopting the instinctive course chosen by the mules themselves. In the latter case, Snaebjorn would pause and allow the leading mules to pass him by before following them close at hand, carefully observing their step whilst murmuring quiet encouragement in the gloom. The whole party had by now dropped into the natural rhythm of the mules, moving at a pace which was cautious and unhurried, but which continued relentlessly forth. In this manner another two days and nights passed with only minor obstructions impeding their route. On the third such day, however, around about noon and therefore during the least dull period, the column was brought to a full stop. Snaebjorn had gone ahead to reconnoitre and, finding his path barred by an immense angle of rock, had tried moving round to its left. Here a second monolith lay lodged against the first. A fissure at the right-hand side showed where the rock had peeled away from the gorge. It also provided a passage into which Snaebjorn immediately ventured. But again he was pulled up, this time almost striking his head on a fallen block lying flat across the others. Small bells could now be heard approaching. Returning to meet Thegn, Snaebjorn bade him halt the mules while he sought a third way to the extreme left, but there was none suitable. When Tostig arrived with the remainder of the party, it was decided that he and Guthrum would investigate the area beyond the fissure while the others took a break. Thorsson suggested they carried a lamp with them, but Tostig again insisted they worked only with what restricted light there was. Ducking the Lintel Rock, as it came to be known, they entered the fissure, emerging eventually to discover further congeries of toppled giants: great unhewn chunks reclining in all directions and creating a maze of cul-de-sacs, false leads and ill-defined portals. Several times they selected what seemed a possible route forward, only for their path to peter out after a short distance, or else turn back on itself. Then they tried searching further to their right where, for the first time since they’d left the coast, they were confronted by a breeze. It was harsh and chill, pushing and prodding between the collapsed rocks, and bringing with it an unmistakable sound. Somewhere to the east a ponderous mass of water was roaring: plunging, so it seemed, into an immeasurable deep.