Soul Bonds Book 1 Circles of Light series (30 page)

Emla’s expression conveyed some misgivings. ‘You will use fire, within these tunnels?’

‘Of course!’ Farn’s cheerful reply resounded in everyone’s thoughts.

Emla’s eyes met Tika’s. Tika grinned at her. ‘As Farn says. . .’

‘Hmm. Well, let’s discuss it with Baras, shall we?’

‘There is nothing to discuss Lady,’ said Farn. ‘We will stand ahead of you. Our fire will not harm any of you then, only whatever comes in front!’

As the new arrivals moved further into the passage, Dessi turned to the opening in the wall. As she stared, so the two sections slid gratingly together, not the faintest scratch indicating where the opening had been. Dessi had just rejoined Jeela when a Guard shot round the curve of the tunnel ahead.

‘Something comes Sir! Stars know what it is, but the smell is worse than any midden!’

Before he had finished speaking, they were all assailed by the pungency wafting down the tunnel.

‘Farn, Jeela, to that side. Uma, Ulla – this side. Stay as close to the wall as you can!’ Tika drew her sword and stood at Farn’s shoulder. Jeela stood between her brother and the rock, the Snow Dragons taking similar positions against the opposite wall.

Some Guards were bringing the fengars forward as others lit more torches. Tika noticed, with some concern that even the normally evil tempered fengars were dismayed by the thickening stench rolling towards them and were almost quiet. She saw that Kemti had pushed Emla and Shan behind the Snow Dragons, but she also saw that Emla had her cloak thrown back and a naked sword in her hand while Shan stood firmly beside her Lady, a wicked looking curved knife at the ready.

Tika drew a shallow breath, wanting to retch as the foetid stink filled her lungs. Then she concentrated on finding Kija’s mind beyond the rock. Swiftly she warned of what was happening, and instantly felt Kija’s strength and love pour back to her. ‘Stars guide you, small one, and my son.’ She felt warmth from the other Dragons, and from Mim, as a clattering of hooves began to sound from beyond the curve ahead.

Dessi had squeezed in beneath Jeela’s chest and she murmured aloud: ‘It is the Guardian’s monsters, but they have no true Power, except the power to terrify by their appearance.’

Tika glanced at her, about to reply, but Farn was stretching up, his eyes glittering blue ice. ‘Fear not, I will die before you are harmed.’

Tika and Dessi both looked at the magnificent silver blue Dragon who, as Tika knew only too well, was still really only a baby. Tika’s eyes filled with tears, which she dashed furiously away on her sleeve as she returned her gaze ahead.

Now a screaming sounded above the rattling of hooves, an inhuman screaming, but they gradually realised mangled human words were mixed among the screams. ‘Kill’ was the clearest word and every hair on Tika’s body stood on end. She made herself relax her over tense grip on her sword and let her left hand rest on Farn’s smooth scales.

Baras stood just in front of her, his sword raised as he watched the tunnel. For a brief second, the clattering faltered, as though whatever approached had decided on some caution before rounding a corner beyond which light showed clearly. Then the screams rose to a crescendo and the first Cansharsi crashed into view. Baras’s arm dropped, Guards released the fengars who joined their battle shrieks to the Cansharsi screams as they charged to meet them.

While there was still space between the two groups, Farn and Ulla both loosed jets of flame and the first two Cansharsi’s battle screams turned to howls of agony as their bodies were seared with fire which burnt deep as knives. Then others were pushing past the writhing bodies and storming on to crash into the advancing fengars, and battle was joined.

Chapter Thirty

Gan, on Fenj’s back, was huddled as low as his tall form would allow, Lorak considerably sheltered behind him. Brin flew directly behind his father carrying Trem and Kran. They were following the Snow Dragon, keeping close against the towering ice cliffs on their left. Ashta and Kija brought up the rear. Kija was alert for any sign of Ashta weakening as they fought not only the howling north wind but the sudden gusts and eddies which swirled up from bottomless crevices below them. The Snow Dragon, Meppi, warned them he was about to fly sharply upwards and they watched his manoeuvring ever more closely as the snow thickened.

Mim, clinging to Ashta with Khosa silent deep in her travelling sack against his chest, began to think they would reach the very stars themselves when Brin swerved ahead of them, angling his great crimson body down between two sheer ice walls. Mim blinked snow from his lashes, trying to see more clearly. He realised Brin’s wingtips only barely missed touching the sides as he flew. A concentrated jet of fire from the Snow Dragon was reflected again and again in the ice alongside them and then Ashta was slowing, as though preparing to land.

Mim rubbed his eyes free of the frozen snow and looked over Ashta’s head. He saw that Meppi had cleared a narrow ledge with his fire. The Dragons stood now on a lip of rock, its wetness from the melted snow already freezing again.

Meppi said: ‘Inside this part is where dwells the Damaged One. We have sung to him through much Time but there is no tunnel near, where we might reach him.’

‘Can we call him?’ Gan asked, as he slid carefully from Fenj’s back.

‘No!’ Meppi’s answer was sharp. ‘These who ride with you must make their way in – there is an opening below this ledge.’

Gan immediately peered down and if not for Lorak grabbing his arm, would have slipped straight over. He nodded thanks to the old man and looked at the ice behind them.

‘There is nothing we can fasten a rope to, to let us lower ourselves.’

‘I will hold a rope,’ Brin rumbled.

Kran pulled a coil of rope from his pack and handed it to Gan.

‘We will wait a brief time,’ said Meppi. ‘In case you have to return this way. But we must go higher and around this peak to the main entrance to the stronghold.’

‘The main entrance?’

‘It is sure to be the easiest place for those of our size to enter Gan.’ Fenj said. ‘And we thought the more distractions the better – it will give Tika more chance to get to the place where the Balance is concealed.’

Meppi drifted out over the chasm and searched for the place he had in mind.

‘It is directly below here,’ he announced as his talons scrabbled for a hold on the ice-covered ledge beside Ashta.

Trem wrapped a length of rope around one of Brin’s forearms, looped it once over the other, and the Dragon gripped the end in his jaws. Ashta’s agitation became apparent as Mim stepped forward to grasp the rope.

‘No.’ Gan put his hand against Mim’s chest. He glanced at Ashta. ‘You go with the Dragons Mim – one of us should be with them and surely it should be the Dragon Lord?’ Gan stared at Lorak who was leaning against Fenj for shelter from the driving snow. ‘You also Lorak, will go with the Dragons. You are not trained to the use of weapons – the five of us will not have time to keep watch over your safety, and we will be moving fast once we are inside.’

Lorak looked hard at Gan from beneath the snowy brim of his hat, then he nodded, climbing onto Fenj’s back without a word.

Gan pointed at Trem and the officer moved to take the rope and prepared to descend over the ledge.

‘Tug the rope to signal for the next of us to come down,’ Gan told him.

‘Sir.’ Trem, the rope secured around one arm and leg, stepped backward into swirling snow filled space.

After what seemed an interminable wait, three steady pulls came on the rope under Gan’s hands and he nodded to Kran to go next. When Sket and Motass had also vanished down the rope, Gan turned to the Dragons, Mim and Lorak.

‘Stars guide you, my friends, and protect you now.’

‘You also Lord Gan,’ Kija replied. ‘We will wait here only a short time and then we will go to the great gateway Meppi spoke of.’ She moved forward, lowering her head until her golden brow touched Gan’s. He stroked her beautiful face lightly with his gauntleted fingers, then turned to grasp the rope Brin held.

He gasped as the wind clawed at him, turning him to smash, like a plaything, against the glassy wall of ice. Gan fought the wind and the rope to twist himself back so that his feet could hold him clear. He lowered himself carefully, an arm length at a time, until at last he felt his ankles held.

‘Keep a hold the rope Sir, there’s no room to stand here.’

Gan peered down and saw only the top of Motass’s head and outstretched arms gripping Gan’s lower legs. As he let himself down the final distance, Motass guided his body through a small opening, a window, he realised as he squeezed his shoulders through.

Trem was standing by the door as Gan unwound the rope from his arm. The exposed skin of his face burnt and stung now that he was out of the relentless wind and snow. Sket pulled at one of his gauntlets and Gan grimaced as he flexed his fingers.

‘It’s a servant’s room Sir, but quite isolated. Officer Trem went along the passage a short way, and he says there be other storerooms, half empty, but none where it seems anyone lives.’ Kran explained quickly as he pulled Gan’s other gauntlet free.

Gan stared at the small hearth with its heap of dead ashes. He looked at the single chair and the table and lastly at the long, narrow bed.

‘This is where Bark has lived,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘All these Cycles, shut away in this cell.’

He tucked his gauntlets firmly under his belt and moved to Trem’s side. He looked out into the dimly lit passageway.

‘All the rooms to the turning are empty Sir. No servants or fighters.’

‘Did you look beyond the corner?’

‘The passage leads downwards. There are similar doors as along here, but no sign or sound of occupants, although I didn’t venture to check Sir. I thought I should wait till we were all inside.’

Gan nodded. ‘You and I lead, Trem. Sket, watch our backs.’ And sliding his sword free of its scabbard, he moved silently out of the room.

A faint metallic ringing told him that all swords had been drawn behind him as he went towards the corner. The light was dim but sufficient; glow lamps holding only one glower apiece were set at regular intervals along the wall. The five men made their way quickly but cautiously round the corner and on down a passage identical to the first. Gan stopped close to the first door then silently lifted the latch. He pushed the door open fast, keeping hold of it lest it bang against the wall. Empty. As Trem said of the first rooms, this one too seemed to be a long neglected storeroom, thick with dust and ancient spinners’ webs. He stepped back into the passage, closing the door gently again. With a glance at Trem, he moved on past the remaining doors to the next corner.

Ahead, the passage split, the right fork continuing a downward slope and seeming to be completely unlit. The left fork remained level and Gan guessed it was a quick route directly to the Guardian’s quarters. The rest of the Gaharnian forces would be in the lowest levels and Gan decided his party’s best plan would be to continue downwards. Hopefully they would at least disconcert or distract any of Rhaki’s fighters who might be already engaged with Soran’s group.

Gan took the right hand passage, unhooking a glow lamp as he passed. The path turned and twisted but led always down, and after perhaps thirty minutes, Gan stopped again. He looked at the floor ahead. There was a thick layer of dust over his boots and as Gan stooped, holding the lamp ahead of himself, it was clear that the dust in the passage had lain untrodden for a long time indeed.

‘I judge we must be nearly to the depth we were in the Delvers’ tunnels Sir,’ Motass said quietly.

Gan nodded. ‘Just pray this isn’t a dead end,’ he whispered back.

They hurried on, a sense of urgency building in all of them.

‘Sir! Listen!’ Trem caught Gan’s sleeve.

Faint and distant cries came to them and the ring of metal, then the sounds ceased. Gan increased the pace and the five sped along the seemingly endless passage.

Soran and his Guards had watched Nolli stand before a solid wall of rock. She lifted her hands and the rock trembled into two halves, opening with only the faintest sigh. She turned to Soran.

‘You must go on now. Choose only paths to your left. I will follow, slow though I may be. Stars guide you all.’ She remained standing, Lanni’s arm round her waist, as Soran raised his sword before his face in salute then moved past the Wise One with his men behind him.

They travelled at the loping trot they were trained to, five Guards carrying lamps to guide their feet. But this tunnel had not been used since the days of the previous Guardian Kovas, and was as thick with dust as the one Gan’s group travelled. Several times the tunnel divided and each time, Soran led his men without hesitation to the left.

Soran estimated they had travelled a little more than two leagues when the way ahead was blocked by another wall of rock. The group stopped, looking to Soran. They had expected no further barriers. As they stood, Soran felt a faint buzzing vibration pass through his body and, as before, the rock opened smoothly in front of him.

Once more they settled into the steady pace of Gaharnian Guards until Soran suddenly gagged. Seconds later, the rest of his men had stopped behind him. Soran drew a more cautious breath and grimaced as the stink filled his nostrils. Drak came up beside the officer.

‘It is not the stench of Shardi, Sir.’

‘No, I realise that. I fear whatever smells this bad, will be proportionally worse than Shardi!’ He looked over his small band. ‘Prepare yourselves. Try to block your minds of whatever your eyes see, as the Healers and Seniors have tried to teach you.’

No sounds accompanied the awful stink at first, and Soran led his men onward. Then they heard shuffling and clattering. Soran stopped. The Guards drew close around him and he indicated they cover three of the lamps. They strained to decipher the noises ahead.

Finally, Nomis whispered: ‘It sounds like stabled beasts – kept in a group rather than individual booths, but it doesn’t smell like fengars, Sir.’

They remained listening a moment longer, Soran nodding as he agreed with Nomis’s interpretation of the noises. ‘The Guardian has Shardi at his command. We may expect worse than fengars I fear. Come.’

They moved quickly now, swords drawn and shields transferred from backs to forearms. The passage grew narrow. Soran swiftly indicated the remaining lamps be covered as light showed where the passage walls nearly met, leaving the barest space where a man might squeeze through. Keeping close to the sides, they crept to the opening and peered through. Soran bit his lip to keep himself silent while several Guards who glanced through turned hurriedly away and lost the contents of their stomachs.

Breathing as lightly as he could, Soran counted the number of monstrous creatures beyond. Most were lying down, but several stood on their hind legs and an argument was clearly escalating between two in particular. Soran took note of the claws, the tusks, the muscular limbs, as one of them half turned and lashed out with a hind leg. As its opponent moved back to avoid the taloned hoof, it threw its upper body forward, grasping the other’s head with its forelegs. Tusks scored grooves down a neck, but the first shrieked in fury and thrust its own tusks up into the chest of the second. One of the beasts lying down rose onto its hind legs faster than Soran would have believed possible and it rammed itself between its two snarling and bleeding fellows. Its head turned from one to the other and sharp guttural noises came forth. Soran realised it was using language, the human features of their faces belying the bestial grunts he was hearing. The one who had put himself between the two who argued, stamped on the floor. His head swung between the two and slowly they both backed away, lowering themselves to move on four limbs rather than upright on two.

Soran moved to see around the area where these creatures stood and lay. He could see a barred gate at the far end of the cavern and as he watched, a man moved into view for a moment then disappeared. Soran stepped back a few paces and gestured for his men to withdraw with him.

‘It would appear to be a holding cave for these – things. But there is a guard at the door. I count eighteen of the creatures. If any of you . . .’

Before he could continue asking for suggestions, there were shouts from within the cave. Soran swiftly returned to the crack in the rock wall. Four men in the black leather tunics of the Guardian’s fighters had entered the enclosure. All the beasts were up on their hind legs, crowding together, some silent, some squealing. The men held naked swords in one hand and three pronged lances in the other. One man came towards where Soran and his Guards were concealed, but his eyes were fixed only on the beasts. Two others took positions at the sides. The fourth man shouted for the animals to follow him and to remember they were to obey him as they would the Guardian himself.

With a certain amount of barging and glaring stares, the beasts followed him out of the cavern, the other three men flanking them. Soran held his breath as the last man out pulled the barred gate closed behind him. He let the breath out in relief as he saw the gate had not been secured on the further side. In fact, it had swung slightly ajar again as the sound of clattering feet and occasional snarls and grunts diminished.