"That's it," said Perrin, the young man they'd hired as a guide. "That's the Thunderberg."

     "Are you sure?" asked Thomas.

     "Absolutely," answered Perrin. "There's no mistaking it."

     That was certainly true, the travelers thought as they stood at the mouth of the narrow valley and looked at it. The Thunderberg stood at the other end of the valley where it dominated everything for miles around, standing head and shoulders taller than any of the other mountains around it. It was also darker than any of the other mountains and pitted with caves and crevices, looking like some monstrous piece of clinker from the firegrate of the Gods. In front of it stood a dark, sinister looking lake, fed by several small streams running down from the surrounding mountains. It was drained by a single river that ran down the valley towards them and then went out to join the river Tew, a few hundred miles to the south.

     "This is as far as I go," said Perrin. "You owe me twenty Shields."

     Diana paid him the money and Perrin tucked it away in a pouch. "If you take my advice, you won't go any nearer either," he warned. "That's a bad place. An unholy place."

     "On the contrary," said Diana. "It's a very holy place indeed, more holy than you can possibly imagine."

     Perrin just shook his head as he mounted his dappled grey pony. "May the Gods have mercy on you," he said, making a sign of protection against evil. He then turned the pony and spurred it into a fast trot back the way they'd come.

     "Amen to that," muttered Jerry. This was the place to which even Zebulon, Rhanov and their entire private army had feared to come.

     Diana just gave him a cold look. "Come on," she said. "Let's go."

     They climbed onto the horses they'd bought from a ranch a few days before and trotted slowly down the valley towards the imposing peak. As they approached, they saw that its sides were pitted by hundreds of caves, some large, some small. As the wind blew across the mouths of some of the larger ones and echoed around in their vast, unexplored reaches, it generated an unearthly wailing howl that echoed around the steep sided valley like the cries of a thousand lost souls. They had heard the sound from several miles away, the distance making it sound like faint rumbling thunder as only the low frequencies could carry that far. It was easy to see how the Thunderberg had earned its name.

     "Look for a cave with a duggi bush growing near the entrance," said Diana. "It has golden brown bark, large, oval, light green leaves and probably clusters of bright red berries."

     "We know," said Jerry. "The berries can be used to make several kinds of potions. There's probably not a wizard in the world who wouldn't recognise a duggi bush on sight."

     "Good," said Diana, a little put out. "You shouldn't have any trouble finding it, then."

     They turned out to have exactly the opposite problem. To their dismay, the entire lower slopes of the mountain were covered by a light green mass of duggi bushes, hiding the entrances to dozens of caves. One of the first they tried turned out to be the home of a family of brown bears, who were angry at having their winter hibernation disturbed. Several others were partially blocked by cave ins and too dangerous to explore, and one narrowed so much after twenty yards that it was impossible to squeeze past. There were several others they could see that were higher up the mountainslope and inaccessible without climbing gear, and even with the right equipment the climb would have been hard and dangerous, risking a deadly fall with every step they took. Any of them might have led to the Shrine of the Sceptre, and they knew they might have to attempt the perilous ascent if they had no luck with any of the lower caves.

     "Do you suppose this is the Oracle's idea of a joke?" asked Shaun as they were scrambling back down a scree slope from a cave that had come to a dead end after a thirty yard belly crawl.

     "I don't think it's capable of humour," said Thomas, who'd stayed safely on the ground. "It was just being accurate. The cave we want does indeed have a duggi bush growing at the entrance. We just have to find which one."

     "I'm sure it said it was the cave with a duggi bush growing near the entrance," said Lirenna, frowning thoughtfully, "implying there was only one such cave."

     "I can't remember what its exact words were," said Diana. "We'll just have to keep on looking until we find the right cave."

     After trying several others, they came to one that was only accessible by means of a careful creep along a narrow ledge above a fifty foot sheer drop. Matthew drew the short straw this time and the others, watching from below, gasped every time his hooked fingers slipped from a handhold or a lump of rock broke away under his feet. Reaching the cave at last, and squeezing past the large bush that almost blocked its entrance, he disappeared inside, and as more and more time passed the others grew increasingly tense with the realisation that he'd either found the shrine at last or something bad had happened to him. At last he reappeared, though, and Diana jumped for joy at the look of triumph on his face.

     "Found it!" he shouted down at them, "but it's a bloody hard crawl to get here. I'll tie a rope, in case anyone falls."

     The rope proved unnecessary, however, and, after leaving their horses to roam freely and graze they all managed the long, crawling climb without falling, although they were all left with bleeding hands and torn fingernails to remind them of the experience. They rested for a few minutes, but Diana was too excited to sit still for long. She was soon up and moving on, staring eagerly ahead into the darkness, and the others climbed back to their feet to follow her.

     The cave narrowed as they went until they were brushing their shoulders against the dusty rock with every step, and the roof got lower as the back of the cave became a tunnel. Soon all of them except Jerry had to bow their heads, and after a while they all had cricks in their necks as they strained to see where they were going. Thomas bumped his head on a protuberance in the ceiling, making him curse under his breath, and Diana shot him a stern glance.

     "Remember where you are!" she hissed. "Samnos Himself may be listening!"

     The wizard apologised, but carried on grumbling to himself as he rubbed his bruised scalp.

     The downward slope got steeper and Diana, in the lead, gave a cry of excitement when the smooth floor of the tunnel became a flight of steps and the ceiling rose until they could stand upright again. The walls became smooth and straight, with sharp corners at floor and ceiling.

     The carved passage led for about fifty yards, ending at a smooth stone door. Trembling with excitement, Diana pushed it and it swung silently open to reveal a large room, brightly lit by a dozen burning torches set in the walls. The room was decorated as a reception hall, with a small table in the centre set with tasty snacks, bottles of wine and jugs of water. Several straight chairs stood around it and the walls were covered with tapestries depicting religious scenes. The most impressive of them showed a heavily armed, grim faced priest of Samnos confronting a huge enemy army. He was holding a beautiful yet powerful looking staff that could only have been the Sceptre of Samnos itself. Although it was nothing but coloured cloth, the artist had somehow managed to impress an unearthly appearance of holiness and power into the rays of light that radiated from it, and the enemy army fleeing from it were almost palpably terrified, making Thomas shiver just to look at it.

     In the middle of the room, behind the table, stood an elderly man dressed in the blood red robes of a priest of Samnos and with a golden griffin hanging by a chain around his neck. Unusually he carried no visible weapons, not even a dagger, but his thin, scrawny body gave the impression of hardy toughness, the kind of toughness possessed by whipcord and dried leather. The way he stood there, poised and alert, gave the unmistakable impression that he was ready to lash out at any moment with the speed of a striking cobra, and none of the travelers had any doubt that he was trained in one of the martial arts, as deadly with his bare hands as any warrior armed with a broadsword.

     He stepped towards them and looked them over warily as if weighing them up, judging them, and he paid particular attention to Diana, who met his eyes and stared steadily back. The others watched with concern as the two clerics studied each other, as if a silent battle of wills was being fought between them, until finally the priest smiled and held out his hand.