Stepping through the doorway, they found that the only direction lay upwards. Niles held up his torch and peered up into the blackness. “I can see no end to it,” he whispered. “This stair must ascend to some secret passage or room far above... perhaps even one of the turrets.” Paris moved to ascend the stair.
“Wait,” said Niles, “remain here. I and five others will ascend. If the way is clear I will send word.” With that, he chose five and ascended into the darkness, first extinguishing the torches.
Niles ascended slowly, left hand feeling the wall, cautiously placing each foot. The air gradually became cooler, and not as stale as that they were leaving below. After some time, they paused to rest.
“There seems no end to it,” whispered Niles. “We have come far, yet I can feel that we are not yet near the top.” In a few minutes they resumed their climb. After what seemed like an eternity, they reached what felt like a railed platform. Niles felt about the wall for a door. He found none. Cursing, he fumbled about for a torch he was carrying, and lit it using his tinder box.
He and his men groaned as they saw the outline of an entrance that had long ago been sealed with stone and mortar. Setting his torch in an ancient holder by the doorway, he sent for Paris, and began prying at the mortar with a knife from his belt. He had nearly loosened a stone at the top of the doorway when Paris arrived with several more men.