Shadow Blizzard (41 page)

“Is this the Labyrinth?” I asked. I’d never felt so disappointed in my life.

“Of course not,” the goblin said with a shrug. “The Labyrinth is farther on, Harold.”

“Shut up there, you lousy beasts!” an orc growled, waving his spear at us threateningly.

We had to postpone the conversation for a while. They put the three of us in a deep pit at the very edge of the village. And just to be on the safe side, they closed it off with a steel grille.

“Great,” Mis grunted. “We can’t reach it, even if we jump. If it rains, we’ll get soaked.”

“As long as we don’t drown—getting soaked’s not so terrible,” Glo-Glo replied. “Now, what was I saying? Ah! The Labyrinth! Right … It’s just beyond that spinney that we passed on our right. Ten minutes’ walk from here.”

“You mean there’s a city only ten minutes away from the village?”

“Who said that?” he asked, gaping at me in amazement.

“You did.”

“I didn’t say anything about a city,” the old shaman objected. “I was talking about the Labyrinth.”

“Well, isn’t the Labyrinth a city—something like the elves’ Greenwood?”

The shaman gave me a very leery kind of look, but when he saw I wasn’t joking, he snorted disdainfully.

“Greenwood and the Labyrinth are nothing like each other! Greenwood is the city of the Black Flame, the biggest city on Zagraba and, as it happens, the former capital of the elves, before the light ones and the dark ones fell out with each other. But as for the Labyrinth … Your “experts” have got something confused there. It’s not a city, it’s a structure. Just a labyrinth, in fact. The orcs don’t live there; the Firstborn come here once a year for the mid-autumn festival, to enjoy themselves and watch a few goblins run.”

“Ah, so that’s it…,” Mis drawled.

“Only don’t expect packed grandstands. This won’t be a good year for applause. The orcs are going to war, so I don’t think there’ll be many Firstborn here.”

“Never mind that.… But I thought Shokren was going to meet the Hand here and give him the Horn.”

“Oh no, Harold. The Horn’s not that urgent, the Hand doesn’t need it yet. What would he do with it? Until the Firstborn come face-to-face with the Nameless One, who they’ve nominally acknowledged as their lord, they have no use for the Horn. And unless I’m mistaken, Shokren won’t be able to monkey about with it on his own; that will take a powerful group of sorcerers. So first Shokren will enjoy himself watching the runners in the Labyrinth, before moving north with all the detachments. At least, that’s what I think.”

“Is he the only shaman here?”

“How would I know? I’m not a clairvoyant. I hope he’s the only one, and I really hope he’s not as strong as they think he is, otherwise my magic isn’t worth a copper coin.”

“Take your mittens off first, before you try working any magic,” Mis chuckled.

“We’ve got a hard day tomorrow,” said the goblin, avoiding an argument. “We’ll need all our strength, may the gods help us.”

Of course, I was hoping for help from the gods, too, but usually when I’m in a really tight spot, all the gods are somewhere very, very far away, and I have to cope with the cunning wiles of fate on my own. So I could only rely on myself—and my comrades, who should have been here a long time ago.

*   *   *

“Eat, Harold,” Glo-Glo said with his mouth full, holding out the food that the orcs had lowered into our pit early in the morning. “You mustn’t go hungry today.”

“No thanks, I don’t feel like it,” I muttered.

I couldn’t eat a scrap, even though I’d slept remarkably well. The goblin and Mis ate breakfast until it was coming out of their ears, but I couldn’t stop listening to the roaring. The orcs, may the darkness take them, had started their entertainment first thing in the morning and they’d already put someone in the Labyrinth. Perhaps elves, or perhaps the captured warriors from the Borderland, perhaps someone else, I didn’t know. The roar of the crowd died away and then grew louder again, reminding me of the rumble of distant thunder.

“They’re enjoying themselves, the lousy scum,” Mis hissed through his teeth as he listened to the shouts of the crowd.

No one answered him. I was too tense, and Glo-Glo was still mumbling those goblin tongue-twisters to himself. Eventually our turn to take part in the performance arrived. The grille moved aside and Fagred’s face appeared against the background of the cloudy sky. With the help of an orc we didn’t know, he lowered a ladder into the pit and barked, “Hey, bald monkey! Time to join the show!”

Mis got up without hurrying and stretched.

“What about us?” I asked quietly.

“We’ll be in the next round,” Glo-Glo answered just as quietly.

“Remember me kindly,” Mis said in farewell, and set off up the ladder.

He clambered out of the pit and the orcs set the grille back in place.

“Listen to me very carefully, lad,” Glo-Glo suddenly whispered. “I didn’t say anything before, because I wasn’t sure who I would be tied to, and speaking too soon would have meant losing the one tiny chance that we still have. But since the forest spirits have chosen you to be my companion … listen and remember. I won’t have time to tell you this again. I’ve already run round the Labyrinth, a long time ago, more than thirty years ago, in fact. That time I managed to get away from the Firstborn unharmed, so I know what I’m talking about. They always put the prisoners in the Labyrinth six at a time—in three pairs. Each pair is fettered with a single chain. And they fetter them in completely different ways—however the forest spirits happen to whisper. The easiest way is hand-to-hand. But there are others: hand-to-foot, foot-to-foot. Or even worse: foot-to-neck or hand-to-neck. We can’t manage the last two—if they put the chain on your neck and my foot, we won’t run very far, so let’s just pray that’s not what happens. When they take us to the Labyrinth, don’t forget to limp.…”

“Why should I do that?” I interrupted.

“Listen, will you!” the goblin said furiously. “Limp, but make sure it’s convincing. Sometimes the Firstborn get the idea that their prisoners can run too fast, and that’s not good. To slow some of them down, they cut a tendon in their leg. You don’t want to crawl round the Labyrinth, I suppose? I should hope not. When they let us go, we have to run to the center of the Labyrinth. At the center there’s a stone, and all we have to do to win is stand on it. But that’s not so easy; in fact, it’s almost impossible. Only one pair in fifty ever gets there. If we run along the path that leads to the stone, we’re doomed, but there is another way round. I came across it last time, when I was stupid enough to run in the wrong direction. The path is guarded by ‘pillars,’ and if we can get past them we can slip through a narrow passage to the stone. It’s not much of a chance, but it’s better than running like everyone else.”

“What’s in store for us in the Labyrinth, what are the dangers?”

“Firstly, the Hunters. Four orcs. Their job is to get our heads, but we’re allowed to kill the Hunters, too, and none of the Firstborn watching this stupid show will touch us if we do. I don’t know how the Hunters will try to catch us—working separately or together. Secondly, the traps. Ordinary traps and magical ones. I think I can handle the second kind. Thirdly, the beasts. They’re created by the orcs’ magic and there are different kinds, but the most dangerous of them are the ‘pillars.’ They can all be killed, you just have to know how, but let’s hope we won’t have to go that far. Remember the most important thing—do what I tell you to do, no matter how strange it seems. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly. But do the orcs know about this secret passage of yours?”

“They do, but they don’t think they need to block it up. It adds a pleasant edge of uncertainty to their bets. The forest spirits be praised, they have no idea I’ve already had the dubious pleasure of taking a stroll around their Labyrinth.”

“This information could have saved Mis’s life.”

“What can I say to that, Harold?” Glo-Glo sighed, without trying to make excuses. “Perhaps you’re right, and it would have saved him, or perhaps you’re wrong and he would just have lost his way in the winding corridors and never found the right place. All I know is that if I’d told him, my chance of survival would have been immeasurably reduced. The orcs will never allow more than one prisoner a day to squeeze through that passage and reach the stone. That’s just the way life is.”

I didn’t say anything to the goblin. Probably he was right. But maybe he wasn’t. Who could tell? There was no way I could judge.

I listened to the distant roar, trying to guess when our turn would come. We had to wait a long time before anyone came for us. More than two hours. I was shivering a little, or rather, shuddering. Those damned nervous shudders really unsettled me, and I was longing for just one thing—for the cursed waiting to be over.

The metal grille moved aside, the ladder was lowered, and Fagred’s face appeared again.

“Your friend has departed for the next world. Out you come, monkeys! It’s your turn now.”

So Mis had failed. May he dwell in the light!

As soon as I clambered out of the pit, I was knocked down and my hands were tied, and then they did the same to Glo-Glo.

“Follow me, keep quiet, and listen. Do you understand?” asked one of the orcs.

“We understand,” Glo-Glo replied.

“Pick those feet up, moth,” said Fagred, shoving me forward, but this time the shove wasn’t rough at all. He was treating his racehorses gently, the lousy snake.

Anyway, I hadn’t forgotten the old shaman’s instructions and as I walked I limped picturesquely on my right foot.

“What’s wrong with your leg?” Fagred immediately asked.

“I turned my ankle climbing down into the pit,” I lied. Fagred frowned anxiously, but he didn’t say anything.

“Before you go into the Labyrinth, they’ll tie you together with a chain,” said the orc, beginning our instructions. “In the Labyrinth, you have to find a triangular stone lying on the ground. Stand on it, and the game’s over. Four Hunters will come after you—trying to kill them isn’t against the rules. You have the right to choose any of the weapons offered. There’s no limit to the time you can spend in the Labyrinth. That’s all. Do you understand?”

“We understand everything,” Glo-Glo answered again.

The cries of the crowd grew clearer as we left the village behind and the maples parted to reveal a valley squeezed between the forest-covered cliffs. I had the impression that magic had been used on this place sometime in the past. In any case, about fifty yards away from us the valley ended in a gigantic steep-sided pit that stretched on between the overhanging cliffs for as far as the eye could see. Observation platforms had been cut into the cliffs. Many of the platforms were empty, but I could see orcs on others. Glo-Glo’s calculations weren’t exactly right—there were more than three hundred Firstborn. I reckoned there were thousands of orcs on the hillsides, watching the action unfold in the pit. Not everyone had set off on the march to the north.

“We’ll wait here,” Fagred growled after they led us to the very edge of the pit.

I had a unique opportunity to look down. The pit was about twenty-five yards deep. It was divided up by walls set in a haphazard, hit-or-miss fashion, and this chaotic disorder created the so-called Labyrinth. I was a bit disappointed. I never expected the orcs’ grandiose structure to be just an ordinary hole—even if it was deep—in the ground, with a few partitions set up in it. The partitions were made of some kind of wild creeping plant that was still green, even in the middle of October. At least, that was what it looked like to me.

“Glo-Glo, what are those plants down there?” I asked in a quiet whisper.

“I advise you to keep as far away from the walls as possible,” the goblin hissed back. “Those are yellow eyes, and they eat absolutely anything, apart from happening to be poisonous.”

“Thanks, that’s really cheered me up.”

Just then Olag came up and led us along the edge of the pit toward a stairway leading down into it. At the bottom we found ourselves in a pen fenced off from the main part of the Labyrinth by a heavy grille. As well as Glo-Glo and me, and the five orcs who had followed us (including Olag and Fagred, who were making sure no one did any premature damage to us), there were at least ten other Firstborn, as well as two men and two elves. The elves were dirty and had been beaten very badly, but they maintained a proud bearing, as if the orcs were their prisoners and the entire Labyrinth belonged to them.

“The final group?” an orc in a leather apron asked Olag.

“Yes.”

“Let’s get started.”

“Hand-to-hand,” he said, jabbing a finger at the elves.

“Foot-to-foot.” That was for the two men.

Two Firstborn started carefully chaining the runners together for the Labyrinth. Leather Apron came over to us, thought for a moment, and announced:

“Neck-to-foot.”

Glo-Glo gave a dull groan, but then Fagred stepped up, grabbed Leather Apron by the sleeve, and dragged him aside. I noticed one of my emeralds disappear into Leather Jacket’s hand. The orc came back to us for a moment and announced:

“Hand-to-hand.”

They put a heavy bracelet on my left wrist. The bracelet at the other hand of a yard of heavy chain was fastened on the goblin’s right wrist.

“Don’t let me down, moth,” Fagred whispered menacingly into my ear. “We’ve wagered too much on you.”

“How fast can you run?” Leather Apron asked me.

“Can’t you see he’s lame?” the goblin answered for me, and immediately collected a slap to the back of his head from Fagred.

But luckily enough, Leather Apron left me alone after that.

“How fast can you run?” he asked one of the two human warriors.

“Very fast,” the man replied gloomily. “Too fast for you to catch me.”

“That’s good,” Leather Apron said with a serious nod, and moved away.

“Choose your weapons, but don’t try anything stupid!”

No one was going to try anything stupid—not even the proud, taciturn elves. How far could you get with a sword, if six bowmen had you in their sights?

There was a whole heap of steel lying on two large tables right beside the railings. And the same amount lying along the walls. Nothing for throwing or firing, of course. No bows, no crossbows, no javelins, no throwing knives, not even a sling. The clever orcs didn’t want any of the prisoners to try killing the spectators. So we had to choose from an assortment of cutting and stabbing weapons.