Into The Dark Flame (Book 4) (26 page)

   With Shenwolf watching her back she advanced around a right-angled corner. Ahead was another gate, this one wrenched off its hinges, and a smashed, fire-blackened wooden portcullis beneath a burned-out guardtower. Through this they passed along a twisting grassy causeway between the trees, and came at length into the open. At once the stench of putrefying flesh hit Issul's nostrils, and she gagged. Tatters of meat
and bones were strewn across the clearing, and at its centre two stout wooden posts stood, silent and terrible.

   Issul clenched her teeth tightly. Shenwolf took her arm.The carcasses of several slooths occupied one side of the clearing, picked at by crows. Issul found herself rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away, until Shenwolf spoke softly beside her. 'Come, this way.'

   He led her away from the sight of the carcasses, her hand covering her mouth and nostrils, then veered back towards the west wall of the camp. The faintest dirt trail led between bushes, and down. Shenwolf pulled aside undergrowth to expose an opening. 'This takes us directly into the brooding-pens. Remember?'

   Issul nodded. Exploring the bunker for the first time, they had entered from the work compound. In the grim chamber of the slooth nesting-stalls they had seen a way leading upwards towards light. Shenwolf had investigated and declared it to be a way out into the forest.'

   Suddenly he froze. 'Hssh!'

   Issul heard it at the same time.
The clink of metal; the unmistakeable sounds of things moving in the trees to the other side of the clearing. She threw herself down; Shenwolf likewise. Moments later a mounted column of Karai troops began to emerge from the trees across the clearing.

   'By the spirits, Anzejarl has sent a force to investigate!' Issul breathed.

   The leading Karai halted. Issul could not see how many made up the force, but it looked considerable. The leaders seemed to be taking stock of the sight of the ruined camp.

   'Quickly!' whispered Shenwolf. 'They will search the camp. We have little time.'

   Even as he spoke there came a barked command from the Karai officer in charge. Several Karai dismounted, drew their swords and began to run across the clearing, accompanied by an equal number of warriors on horseback. Others began to fan out silently, notching arrows to bows.

   Issul and Shenwolf slid down into the darkness of the slooth brooding pen. The air was thick, musty, imbued with the stale, pungent stench of slooths. They could see barely a thing, but though Issul carried a torch upon her back they could not light it for fear of the sound of striking flint carrying to the
Karai outside.

   'I think this may be one of the last places they search,' whispered Shenwolf. 'They may not even know of it. I just hope there are not stray slooths still lurking down here.'

   His sword was drawn. Issul gripped the weapon she had taken from Gordallith's man. Slowly they began to grope their way forward along the aisle separating the two rows of stalls where the slooths had nested. They could not see a thing. From outside came curt, muffled calls of the Karai.

   'Wait.' Issul knelt. She set down the wooden chest, raised its lid and took out the blue casket. 'Orbelon, come forth.'

   The god materialized, bathed in a faint, misty blue lucence. Before he could speak Issul hurriedly explained the situation. 'The chamber of the Farplace Opening is less than twenty paces from where we stand,' she said in conclusion.

   'I know. I can feel it,' replied Orbelon. He gazed towards the opening by which they had descended, revealed by a shaft of weak grey light. 'I can do nothing about the
Karai, but perhaps I can help relieve this darkness.'

   He passed his hand before him in a circle. His blue aura intensified slightly, sufficient to throw a wan radiance for some short distance around him. Immediately Shenwolf moved off between the wooden stalls, investigating each one, until he reached the door at the end. This was barricaded: Shenwolf himself had nailed it closed and heaped earth and stones against it when sealing the bunker. Now he prised at the planks, using his dagger to lever them free. Issul joined him. In a couple of minutes they had the door open.

   'It’s through that door,' said Issul as they stepped into the ante-chamber outside the chamber of the Farplace Opening. Orbelon stared contemplatively. As Issul moved to the door, which was also barred with planking, Shenwolf darted into the passage on the right which led to the main entrance and the former work-compound. He quickly returned. 'I can hear them outside. The entrance remains secure for now.'

   He worked with Issul to unblock the door. When they had done they were both perspiring and breathing heavily. Issul turned to Orbelon. 'What now?'

   'We enter,' said Orbelon. 'You take me through the Farplace Opening.'

   'But we can’t all go through. Yet neither can Shenwolf remain. The
Karai will kill him.'

   'You have with you Urch-Malmain's talisman. Give that to Shenwolf. I think it will give him some protection on the other side.'

   'But you cannot guarantee?'

   'I can guarantee nothing at this stage. Shenwolf must make a choice: to step through with the talisman, in the hope that it will protect him, or to remain here.'

   'What of the Queen?' Shenwolf said. 'She requires the talisman for her own protection.'

   'As long as Queen Issul remains with me I can shield her to some degree from Enchantment's immediate effects,' Orbelon replied slowly. 'Now, there is little time. Make your choice.'

   'I will come through with you,' stated Shenwolf without hesitation.

   'Then let us go.'

   Issul's heart was in her mouth as she pushed upon the door. It swung back and she stepped in, and gasped. The fabulous light oval hovered as before in the centre of the chamber, unearthly and blindingly beautiful to behold. But it was much bigger than before. It rose almost to the ceiling and was nearly as broad as the chamber was wide. Its radiance was of a far greater magnitude than when she had first set eyes on it; both she and Shenwolf were forced to shield their eyes with their hands. Opalescent, multi-toned colours fluxed and whorled in its incandescent depths, and the oval pulsed, dilating and reducing rhythmically, as though alive. As her eyes adjusted Issul saw within it something that had not been present before: a maelstrom of thousands of tiny, dazzling fibrils and scintillae, surging and darting in clouds of restless, constantly changing colours. The sight was mesmerizing, breathtakingly beautiful, and terrifying. Clutching the blue casket to her, Issul was transfixed.

   'This is grave,' declared Orbelon in forbidding tones, snapping Issul out of her trance.

   'What do you mean?'

   'It was not this way when you saw it first.'

   'No. Why? What is happening, Orbelon? Why has it changed?'

   'A Reach Rider is preparing to break through.'

   Issul's gut twisted in fear. 'Now? What can we do? Can you prevent it?'

   Orbelon hesitated, his spine bowed as he leaned heavily on his staff. 'You said Triune guarded the Opening on the other side, that she had taken it from the god who aids the
Karai?'

   'That’s what Triune told me.'

   Orbelon stared at the great pulsing globe. 'Something has changed.'

   'What does that mean?'

   'It means that we do not know what we will discover on the other side.'

   Issul glanced to Shenwolf, then back. 'Can we not pass through?'

   'Oh, we must. And we must go immediately. But I am saying I no longer know what to expect.'

  
'And the Reach Rider?'

  
'May be on the other side.'

   'What, then?'

   Orbelon did not reply. It was silent in this chamber of the Farplace Opening - unnervingly so. Issul could hear nothing from above ground, and the great orb pulsed and dazzled but, eerily, made no sound at all. Issul heard only her own breathing, her pounding heart, the blood surging within her veins, and Shenwolf's breath beside her.

  
'Orbelon, what then?'

   She stood on the lip of the future, clutching at the single, slender, ever more distant hope of salvation. And before her was only peril and uncertainty - the Unknown.

  
Are we to die here now?

  
'Orbelon!'

   The ragged god turned his head slowly to her. 'We can only go on.'

   Issul looked back at Shenwolf, and swallowed. 'Are you with us?'

   He was pale, his features taut. He nodded once.
'Aye.'

   'Then we go.' She clasped the casket tightly in both hands,
and  stepped forward into the chamber and into the blinding flux of the Farplace Opening and whatever lay beyond.

TEN

i

   The great walls of the Fortress of the Dark Flame towered high over Leth's head. Far taller than he had thought when he had first viewed them from across the plain, though he had perceived them as formidable even then. Leth, his wrists still loosely bound behind him, was riding slowly with his villainous company up the exposed causeway to the Fortress's main outer gate. The air was addled and warm now, uncomfortably close, stifling inside his helm. Through the eye-slits in the lowered visor, looking up, he saw gigantic interlocking blocks of black-to-blood-red stone rising sheer to more than one hundred feet. Where the walls wound along the edge of the ridge Abyss warriors could be seen upon the battlements, where flaming cressets blazed strangely in the weird light.

   Overhead the dense mantle of cloud burned murky bronze-red. The bloodlight stained the dead and empty landscape all around, somehow cast by the Fortress itself, though whether out of the rock that formed it or from something else within Leth could not tell. Below, across the plain,
parties of Abyss warriors rode out on unknown business. Leth and his companions had encountered three patrols as they approached the Fortress. None had submitted them to anything but the most cursory questioning. They accepted Rasgul's explanation, apparently finding nothing irregular about his extended absence. All of them subjected Leth to intense scrutiny as they rode by. He did not know what Rasgul was saying about him but plainly he was deemed a significant prize. Given his circumstances and lack of confidence in his companions, this did nothing to set his mind at ease.

   Leth wondered where the Abyss warriors were bound. They had the appearance of raiding or foraging parties. Were there settlements or communities of some kind here at the lowest level of the Death Abyss? What kind of persons or creatures could survive here? 

   Elsewhere upon the plain, as far as the eye could see, were the lost, pathetic figures of Ascaria's children, hollow victims, deprived of dreams, creatures without inner life. They wandered silently and aimlessly and were absorbed by the surrounding red mists.

  
Some become warriors.
Leth looked at the Abyss warriors who rode at his side, and wondered.

   The Orbsword was strapped upon Rasgul's horse, behind the saddle. Leth carefully tested the cord binding his wrists, reassuring himself that he could easily slip free when the need arose. He looked up again, trying to see the airy heights above the Fortress itself. As they had ridden across the final stretch of the dead plain Rasgul had pointed to an area directly over the Fortress, and said something which sent a quiver of fear down Leth's spine: 'She is almost ready to eat again.'

   Leth had seen, in the air above the Fortress, something darkly shimmering, an amorphous thing, a nameless, hanging emanation that seemed both present and not present.

   'What is it?' he had asked. 'What do you mean?'

   'The emergence. You see it? It is a sign that Ascaria is strong once more; she has engorged and vitiated sufficient dream-energies, transformed them into her own vile force. This she will now release, and it will devour.'

   'How long before she releases it?'

   'That is hard to say. From its appearance now, I would say at any time.'

   'Will my slaying her prevent it?'

   'If you destroy her before she lets go, I think so.'

   Leth had kept his eyes upon the strange formless form as they rode towards it, but it tricked and worried his vision, allowed him no focus and he found his eyes shifting involuntarily away. Eventually it was obscured by the looming mass of the Fortress itself.  

   Now they were approaching the great outer barbican. The causeway veered at a sharp angle to approach a drawbridge spanning a deep ditch in which a still, thick greenish fluid rested, its surface occasionally disturbed as if by something of bulk stirring beneath. Abyss warriors stood guard beside a long, massive arch surmounted by three stone bartizans. Others peered down from the walls and squat barbican towers, their pallid faces lit pinkly in the bloodlight. The portcullis was up, as was a second in the shadow of the other end of the arch. Rasgul led his band across the drawbridge and beneath the arch. An Abyss warrior strode forward, his hand raised for the party to halt. He spoke briefly with Rasgul, appraised the others of the group, most particularly Leth, then waved them on.

   They entered a wide, walled way which led straight for some one hundred yards, following the course of the outer wall - a killing field, where any invading force might be trapped and picked off at leisure by Abyss archers fifty feet above. At the far end of the killing field was a second, inner barbican. Here the portcullis was down and the party was obliged to stop again and be passed before it was cranked high and they were allowed to proceed.

   They were in a long outer ward, circumscribed by high walls and fortified towers. Inner walls extended to the company's left. A short distance along was another fortified gate, through which they passed under watchful eyes but without obligation to pause.

   The tension was near-unbearable. Leth, striving to maintain an attitude of dejection, found his spine aching with the effort of slouching in the saddle, and a hot, prickling sweat poured down his face and neck and soaked his clothing beneath the sapphire armour. He expected at any moment that his deception would be discovered and a rain of arrows would fall upon the party. The sapphire armour might protect him, but the others would surely die and he could not hope to fight on alone and survive against so many.

   Inside the close-fitting helm he could barely breathe. The deep, veiling red lucence was more intense here, as they rode into a wide inner court, and the air had grown even warmer. He sensed the tension in the others, saw by the stiffness of their postures that they were no more at ease than he.

   As they made their way slowly on across the court to a large entranceway set in the wall of a massive keep on the other side, Rasgul fell back beside Leth and said, aside, 'So far all is good, but I can
’t expect to get much further without arousing interest. Be prepared.'

   'Where are you taking us?' asked Leth.

   'Supposedly to the dungeons. I may be able to bluff my way deeper into the citadel. Stay alert and say nothing.'

   They dismounted outside a door which let into one wing of the central complex of the fortress. Now they encountered a minor problem: the Sword of the Orb could barely be borne by anyone but Leth. After a moment's consideration Rasgul commanded them to wait,
then disappeared inside. He emerged moments later, followed by a single Abyss guard. At his bidding the newcomer and Fhurn hefted the sword between them, and with Rasgul leading the party passed within.

   A small ante-chamber gave onto a short flight of stone steps leading to a guard-chamber manned by four warriors. Unchallenged, Rasgul opened a door on the far side of the chamber and they passed through into a long passageway of smooth stone walls. Their footsteps reverberated as they walked on. The temperature had risen further now they were indoors; the air was utterly still and cloying, tainted with an acrid, unidentifiable smell. The passage turned sharply to the right and they entered a larger room, set with a pair of workbenches, numerous shelves, and various instruments and diverse bottles and containers. Leth took it for a laboratory or workroom of some description. Beyond this was another downward stairway. They descended, followed another short passage, passed through a second guardroom and came to a four-way intersection. Rasgul led them left. Now they ascended a long ramp to a tall double door, faced in silver figured with intricate designs and glyphs. This Rasgul pushed open, and strode through into a spacious chamber where a tawny-robed figure knelt before a low dais or altar surmounted by an ornate golden chalice in which a blue flame burned. The figure rose and turned, plainly startled by the sudden entrance.

   'What is this? What do you want?'

   'Prisoners,' replied Rasgul, without breaking his stride. 'They are to be delivered without delay to the person of the Kancanitrix.'  

   'This is irregular.' The robed figure was near-human, but had a smooth, bald, beaked, birdlike head and small round black, near featureless eyes that were sunk deep into bony sockets. He cast a lofty gaze over the three prisoners, lingering on Leth. 'I have received no instructions to this effect. You will wait here while I check.'

   'No, don't do that,' said Rasgul. He was drawing free his scimitar as he walked forward, and now hacked the man-bird thing to the ground with a single swift blow. Leth heard a scuffling sound and a sudden low groan behind him. He turned and saw Dembarl, his scimitar drawn and wet with blood, standing over the twitching corpse of the Abyss warrior who had helped carry the Orbsword.

   'Free your hands and take your weapon, Swordbearer,' declared Rasgul. 'From this point on we fight. But do not draw the Orbsword until you must. Once it’s free of its scabbard Ascaria will be aware of you.'

   Leth slipped his hands from the cord that bound them, relieved that his fears of betrayal had been unfounded. He quickly buckled the Orbsword about his waist and took up the scimitar of the slain Abyss guard. Beside him Count Harg and Juson were similarly equipping themselves with their own weapons which Huuri, the last of Rasgul's three warriors, had toted.

   Harg glanced Leth's way with a smirking grin, and winked. 'Well, Lord Swordbearer, here we are, eh? What grand adventures we are having! What fabulous larks!'

   His lips drew back slightly, and in the pervasive red air, to Leth's eyes, he looked insane.

   Rasgul had crossed the chamber to a recess in the far wall. He pressed upon a panel on the wall and a door slid open at the back of the recess. He looked within quickly, then turned back. 'Somewhere beyond this point the Kancanitrix waits. Where, I do not know, for this is the furthest I have ever been.'

   'Then you should not have killed this creature,' replied Leth, nodding towards the corpse of the beaked man. 'He could have been useful.'

   Rasgul shook his head. 'He was an Acolyte. They exist only to serve Ascaria. They are incapable of betraying her.'

   As were you until Urch-Malmain found you, thought Leth, but said nothing.

   'Come, drag the bodies in here. We should waste no time,' Rasgul said.

   At that moment an arras on one wall quivered and was drawn back. Another of the tawny-robed Acolytes was revealed, stepping through an opening. He was younger than the first and was carrying an icon or instrument of some kind in his two hands. Seeing the intruders he gave a sharp gasp and froze. His red eyes took in the two corpses and with a shriek he turned and fled.

   Rasgul, Dembarl and Harg bounded across to the passage into which he had vanished. Harg knelt and took aim with his repeating crossbow, then swore. The fleeing Acolyte had rounded a corner and disappeared from sight before he had been able to loose a bolt. The Acolyte's frantic yells resounded through neighbouring corridors.

   'Quick!' ordered Rasgul, cursing as he raced back across the chamber to the second passage behind the recess-door. 'They will be swarming in here in moments.'

   Disregarding the bodies now, the seven ran for the passage. Fhurn entered last and closed the door behind them.

   'Which way?' queried Leth. They were in a low corridor, long and broad, which led off in three directions. The red glow illuminated it sufficient to make out its details, or lack of them, but Leth saw nothing to indicate a preference over one way or the other.

   Rasgul shook his head, scowling. 'Still, we must choose one . . .'

   He struck out in the direction that led off slightly to the left. A smooth stone floor descended gradually to a wider area. Two Acolytes appeared suddenly around a corner ahead. Each carried a pair of javelins which blazed with some kind of magical flame. Rasgul cried out something. The two Acolytes knelt and hurled their javelins. Rasgul threw himself to the side, flat against the wall.
The javelins, amethyst-flamed, shot past him. Leth also dodged. The javelins flew by him with an angry swarming sound. He felt a searing heat, heard a thud and an agonized shriek from behind him.

   The Acolytes both reached for their second missile. Rasgul hurled himself forward with a great roar, scimitar high. Leth, just behind, followed suit. Something sighed past his ear. One of the Acolytes cried
out, throwing wide his arms, and fell back writhing. Rasgul was upon the other, striking him down with his blade. Leth raced forward and finished off the fallen Acolyte, who was clutching at the stub of one of Count Harg's bolts which protruded from his chest.

   'I'll have that back if you don't mind,' called Harg, rising from kneeling and approaching, crossbow in hand. Terrible shrieks still resounded from behind him. Leth saw one of the Abyss warriors - was it Dembarl - squirming upon his back. The strangely blazing javelin rose erect from his belly, quivering. Steam rose in dense, sizzling bursts from the point of entry into his flesh. Juson stood close by, looking on helplessly.