He closed his eyes and heard muttering which told him that the torch had been extinguished; he was not alone in being troubled by the total absence of light.
He kept his eyes closed and turned his mind to pleasant thoughts. He wondered how the harvest at home this year had gone and how the grapes looked. He recalled the growers bragging about a record crop, but that was nothing unusual. You could usually tell if they were just talking to hear themselves talk or if they truly meant it by their manner. The more earnest they were that it was to be a great year, the more you could suppose it wouldn’t be, but if they spoke of the harvest in a matter-of-fact, nearly indifferent way, it would be a great year.
He then wondered how the other young men and women in the village were. He thought about Gwen and regretted he hadn’t gone to the orchard with her on the occasions he might have. Having a woman was a great deal more than he had imagined, and the memory of the whore’s softness roused his flesh despite his fatigue. He thought of Rosalyn and found himself both fascinated and disturbed by remembering her without her clothing. He had seen her numerous times as a child bathing, but seeing her woman’s breasts as she lay before the tree … He found the memory now oddly disturbing, as if there must be something wrong to think about how she looked as the result of a rape.
Erik tried to turn over and succeeded only in making himself less comfortable. Maybe he could talk to Nakor about this unsettling memory of Rosalyn; the funny man seemed to know a great deal and perhaps could tell Erik why he was suddenly aroused by such a repulsive memory.
Yet when he thought of that night the rage and anger were distant, and the murder seemed as if it happened to someone else. But those small firm breasts …
He groaned slightly and sat up, suddenly disoriented in the darkness. He started to berate himself for being as depraved as any man living when it struck him suddenly there was light coming from ahead in the tunnel. It was faint, but any light would be noticeable in the absolute gloom of the cavern.
He sensed more than saw the form of de Loungville before him and saw that the soldier who was to have been on duty had dozed off. He felt no anger for the man: remaining alert in total darkness was almost impossible. The sound of slow breathing everywhere told Erik he might be the only man remaining awake who was close enough to the head of the column to see the light.
He gently reached past de Loungville and nudged the sentry. The man came awake, saying, ‘What?’
De Loungville was awake an instant later and also whispered, ‘What?’
Before the sentry could say anything, Erik said, ‘Marc thought he saw light ahead. Sergeant. He was asking me if I saw it, too.’ Turning to the sentry, he said, ‘Yes, there is light up there.’
De Loungville said, ‘Wake the others. Quietly. No torch. First six men come with me.’
They crept forward, and after a few steps, Erik could see it was a moving light, coming from the left, from a passage that intersected the one in which they traveled fifty or so feet farther along. As they neared the passage, it was clear it was rapidly growing brighter, then suddenly de Loungville was motioning for everyone to hug the walls.
The sounds of movement preceded a figure who strode into view, passing through the intersection without a glance right or left. Erik gripped his sheathed sword hilt, ready to pull it free should the need arise.
The creature was a serpent man, dressed in a tunic and leggings rather than trousers, which allowed his short tail to swing freely.
Behind him came two more, larger and dressed in armor. Erik had had a good look at the Saaur, a better look than he would care to repeat, but these creatures were of a different stripe. The tallest of them was smaller than a human by a head, and they were sinuous. Erik noticed they seemed slow and deliberate in their movement. He wondered if it might be the chill in the cavern that slowed them, for Nakor had said these creatures were cold-blooded.
Another pair of guards passed through, one glancing in their direction. Erik waited, but the creature moved on without comment or alarm. Erik could only reason that the creature’s night vision had been harmed by the closeness of the torch before it, and that, hugging the walls, the humans were nearly invisible.
Another pair, then another, until a full dozen Pantathians walked by.
De Loungville motioned for the others to wait, then moved to where the light was quickly fading. He hurried back and whispered, ‘They’re gone.’
As the tunnel was plunged into darkness again, they reached the remaining column, now alert to the last man. Nakor, who had worked his way to the head of the line, said, ‘Serpent men, yes?’
‘How’d you know?’
‘I felt them’ was his answer. ‘I feel a lot of strange things here. This is a bad place.’
‘I’ll not argue that,’ said de Loungville. He let his breath out slowly, in frustration. Then he said, ‘I want us out of here as fast as we can get.’
Erik found listening to his voice in pitch darkness only heightened his appreciation of the tone of frustration in the man’s statement. Then de Loungville asked, ‘Which way do we go?’
Nakor whispered, ‘We move roughly to the southeast. I think we go the way the snake men came from, not follow after. I think they came from the surface and go somewhere deep within the mountain. We are high enough that we will find it cool, cold even, when we come out. Serpent people don’t like the cold, so I think that would be the place they don’t live.’
‘You think they live down under the mountain?’
‘Could be,’ Nakor answered. ‘Hard to know, but they are here and we need to do many things before we start fighting again. If we die, then no one knows what’s really going on, and that is bad.’
De Loungville was silent. Erik found himself growing uncomfortable with the duration and at last said, ‘Sergeant?’
‘Shut up,’ came the quick response. ‘I’m thinking.’
Erik and the others stayed silent. Then at last de Loungville’s voice cut through the darkness. ‘Greylock!’ he called, his voice low but urgent.
From the rear a figure moved slowly forward, trying not to step on feet in the dark. At last a voice said, nearby, ‘Yes?’
‘You’re in charge. I expect you to get as many of this company out alive as you can.’
The former officer said, ‘I will, Sergeant. I’d like Erik for my second.’
De Loungville didn’t hesitate. ‘Von Darkmoor, you act as sergeant for a while. Jadow, you’re his corporal. All of you pay attention to whatever Nakor and Hatonis have to say.
‘This is what you’re going to do. I’m waiting here for Calis. I don’t want to try to mark the passages we take in case more of those Pantathians come this way. Leave me one torch and I’ll wait here until I decide the Captain’s not coming back.’ There was a note of urgency and worry in his voice Erik had never heard before. He wondered if he would have noticed it had he been able to see de Loungville’s face.
‘Then I’ll catch up with you,’ continued de Loungville.
‘Now, here’s what you do. When you reach the surface, get across the grasslands as best you can, and to the coast. Acquire horses or steal a boat, but somehow get back to the City of the Serpent River. Trenchard’s Revenge is there or she’s been sunk, for Nicholas gave orders that at least one ship would remain for us. Hatonis and his men will know the best route.’
Hatonis, from the rear, spoke loudly enough for his voice to carry just to the front of the line. ‘There’s an old trade route, overland from Ispar to the City of the Serpent River, through Maharta. It is rarely used anymore, but it should be passable on horseback.’
De Loungville took a deep breath and said, ‘All