“Get the men back to work,” he ordered. “I’ll start the fires going. We have to do it now.”
They trotted back to the opening and found Draelin there, shifting from one leg to the other, left hand clutching the hilt of his sword. “What happened? Why did you stop working?”
Alcinor ignored him. He grabbed two of his men. “Each of you gather two oil pots and follow me.” He shoved them on their way, and the force of his words kept them moving.
The battering resumed as Jahiri snatched up a hammer and pushed his crew back beneath the overhang. Meanwhile, Alcinor led his two men into the shadows, all the way down to the twelfth post.
“You, open the pots and saturate the wood. Be careful to not waste any oil. Make sure it all goes onto the wood.” He ordered the second man to do the same on the eleventh post. Alcinor stood between them, making certain the black liquid spread over the dry wood, and didn’t trickle away on the dusty rock.
The oil that burns would saturate the carefully arranged firewood, and form a pool at the base of the beam. When set afire, all the heat from the flames would be concentrated on the log itself.
Post by post, Alcinor supervised the application of the oil pots, two to each post. Even before the last set of pots was emptied, he collected a fresh torch and set it alight from the small fire that the soldiers had kept burning during the night and into the morning.
Alcinor walked calmly to the twelfth post, the one deepest into the mountain. For a moment, he just stared down at the wood. “May Hephastor move this mountain,” Alcinor prayed to the god of every builder, then touched the flickering end of the torch to the still dripping oil.
With a whoosh, the flames engulfed the post. Taking his time and ignoring the heat, he repeated the process, working his way, post by post, until he reached the front of the cavern. The flames would set the beams afire, he knew, but the oak was strong and would take time before it weakened.
Jahiri, on his knees beside the first post, struggled with a specially made, heavy bronze chain. The thick links surrounded the base of the log, but in a wide loop that was a long pace from the beam. Jahiri wanted to keep the links out of the worst of the fire, to maintain their strength.
Alcinor waited until his apprentice completed the loop and then carefully dragged the other end of the long chain, which stretched about twenty paces, out from underneath the overhang and into the sunlight. If the fire did not weaken the beams enough to bring down the cliff, men and horses would try to rip the weakened timber of the first beam from its position.
“I’m ready,” Jahiri called out.
Alcinor tossed the torch at the base of the first beam, then walked out. When he rejoined Jahiri and Draelin, the frightened laborers wanted to descend the cliff, but the soldiers still blocked the way.
Alcinor turned to face the flames. All twelve beams were ablaze, flames licking and crawling their way up each post. The fire created a black cloud of oily smoke that curled and twisted its way along the bottom of the overhang until it could reach the open sky. The heat, partially trapped beneath the rock, surged like a wave toward them. Alcinor could see the air flowing, even without the streams of smoke rushing up from the rock.
“Well, the smoke will tell the Elamites where we are.” Draelin had to shout to be heard over the crackling of the flames. “What happens now?”
“The oak beams are strong, and it will take awhile before they lose their strength. As the beams fail one by one, the weight of the rock will shift to the remaining logs. When that happens, the cliff will become more and more unstable, until it topples from its own weight.”
“Should we be standing here?”
“It will take a few more moments,” Alcinor said. “And we may need to use the chain to weaken the first post, which is the strongest. Keep your men ready.”
The flames, fed by the oil and the dry firewood stacked around each post, roared up with a sound that echoed out over the rocks. Two years ago, Alcinor had watched in fascination as a large swath of houses in Akkad burned to the ground, but never in his life had he seen flames like these. Meanwhile, dense black clouds boiled out from beneath the overhang, a living snake of reeking smoke that stormed up into the heavens.
“I think it’s time to go,” Jahiri said, rubbing his jaw.
Alcinor stared at the burning inferno. He’d built this pyre to bring about the death of the mountain, and now he found himself transfixed in spite of the danger. Still, Jahiri was right. The weight of the rock should make it topple toward the trail, but large chunks of the cliff would be flying in all directions.
“Draelin, send your soldiers down first. As my men come down, make sure everyone stands by the chain. We may need every man hauling on it.”
No one needed any urging to descend, the soldiers and laborers scrambling down as fast as they could. Only when all the others were gone did Alcinor start his descent, but he stopped when his head was level with the base of the rock. He stared at the burning cliff, a sight no man had ever seen before. Even the demons who dwelt deep below the earth in their pools of fire would be in awe.
Alcinor glanced below, and saw workers and soldiers grasping the chain wherever they could. The last link of the chain had been threaded with two stout ropes, and these fastened to leather traces attached to two horses. A soldier stood beside each animal, a leather lash in his hand. Both animals shifted nervously, ears jerking back and forth, worried by the smell of burning oil and the crackling of the nearby flames.
A snapping noise jerked Alcinor’s head around. One of the beams had failed. Others would soon collapse under the additional strain. Because of the smoke, he could only see the first few beams, burning as furiously as a funeral pyre.
The chain, meant to help break the keystone beam if the flames failed to do the job, wouldn’t be needed. One last look, and he resumed his descent. Hands reached up to help him down. He tried to speak, but his chest was full of smoke. He coughed as he waved the men away, until he cleared his throat.
“Run! Forget the chain. Run!”
The men needed no further urging. They fled for the safety of the rocks. The soldiers unhooked the traces from the horses, and the animals bolted. Alcinor, supported by Jahiri on one side and Draelin on the other, stumbled after them toward the safety of the rocks.
Before they could get behind the massive boulders, the cliff broke loose from the mountain with a deafening boom, magnified by the rocks, that struck the men like a blow. The ground shook, and the three were knocked to the earth.
Alcinor landed on his back, and he glimpsed the death of the mountain. The massive slab of stone, sixty paces long and at least that many in height, separated from its base with a deafening crack. The wall of rock turned halfway as it fell, striking the lower cliff wall that also leaned out over the trail. Falling from a height of more than forty paces, nothing could resist its impact.
The lower wall collapsed under the additional weight and snapped in two. The ground shook again and moved, in the same fashion as an earthquake. A whirling cloud of dust rose up, to mix with the flames and smoke, and the entire cliff came down with a demon-like rumbling that went on and on, carrying an unbelievable mass of stone that choked the Jkarian Pass.
It took a long time before the shaking stopped. Jahiri recovered first. “You did it! You moved the mountain!” He threw his arms around the Engineer and hugged him.
Alcinor started coughing from the thick dust that hung in the air, but nothing could keep the smile from his face.