Part 38 (1/2)

Riven prodded Phraig with the dagger and they moved doublequick down the corridor. The shadowwalkers led them, invisible as ghosts.

”No surprises,” Riven whispered to Phraig.

The young guardsman nodded. ”There's a drop shaft ahead, with a lift. It ... it's guarded.”

”How many?” Riven asked.

”Two,” Phraig said.

”Shadem, Vyrhas,” Riven said. ”Take them down. They live, if possible.”

Ordinarily, Riven would leave no one alive behind him. But he had made Cale a promise, and as much as he disliked it, he intended to keep it. He clutched his saber in his fist. Its missing magic made the otherwise enchanted blade feel heavier than usual. He made no effort to mask the sound of his approach. Ahead, he could see that the tunnel opened onto a larger chamber.

”Talk, boy,” he whispered to Phraig.

”Two coming down,” Phraig called.

Riven hustled Phraig down the tunnel. It opened onto an irregular, rough-hewn chamber with a large hole in the center of its floor. A low stone wall circled the hole and a four-legged frame of timbers straddled it. Thick hemp lines hung from pulleys set into the frame, directly above the shaft. Riven guessed the lines to be attached to a lift at the bottom of the shaft.

Two guards with tired eyes stood near the lift mechanism. Chain hauberks draped their fat bodies. Blades hung at their belts. Their helms lay on the stone wall at the edge of the lift. Both looked curiously at Riven as he and Phraig walked into their view.

”Well met,” Riven said, as disarmingly as he could manage. He prodded Phraig and the boy said, ”Birg, Nilmon, this is-”

Shadem and Vyrhas stepped out from behind the men. Each grabbed a man in an armhold around the throat and leaned back to lift them off the ground. The guards did not so much as gag. Their legs kicked, and their eyes went wide as the shadowwalkers choked them into unconsciousness.

”Well done,” Riven said.

”G.o.ds,” Phraig said softly.

Riven knew the guards would not remain unconscious for long. He left Phraig for a moment and smacked each man in the temple with the hilt of his dagger. That would keep them down for a time.

”How many at the bottom?” he asked Phraig.

Skelan and Dynd looked down the shaft.

”Uh, another two, at least,” Phraig said. ”And ...”

Riven heard the hesitation in the boy's tone and knew Phraig had not told them everything. He stalked over to Phraig and held the punch dagger before his face.

”Speak it, boy.”

”I may have ... misspoken when I said there were only thirty guards.”

Riven's eye narrowed. ”How many?”

”Twice that,” Phraig said, and winced as if he expected a blow.

Riven almost gave it to him. Instead, he looked to Shadem, Vyrhas, Dynd, and Skelan. None of them looked concerned. They were in it all the way. He liked them more and more.

Riven turned back to Phraig. ”Sixty men? Even at this hour?”

”At all hours,” Phraig answered. ”The Nessarch is well paid to ensure that no one escapes. This duty pays the guards double their usual draw. We choose lots to see who'll get it each month. I'm lucky to have the work.”

Riven's anger rose and he could not keep it from his face. Phraig blanched.

”You feel good about being part of this, boy?” Riven said. ”Enslaving these men? Working them until they die?”

Phraig's eyes looked everywhere but Riven's face. ”Slaves? No. I am ... I mean, I'm just doing my job.”

Riven sneered and p.r.i.c.ked Phraig's cheek with the dagger. The boy recoiled, bleeding. ”Me, too. Is this lift the only way in or out?”

The boy nodded, dabbing at his cheek. ”There used to be others, but they were sealed off.”

Riven said, ”Guards at the bottom, what else?”

Phraig answered so fast Riven knew he was not lying. ”The barracks, mess, and supply rooms are in the large, finished tunnel to the right. The cells are to the left. They will not be guarded at this hour. The prisoners are chained within them. The rest of the tunnels are for mining.”

”How many prisoners?” Riven asked.

”A dozen, maybe,” Phraig said. ”They don't last long. Every tenday some new ones walk in and some old ones are carried out.”

Riven glared at him. ”Just doing your job, right?”

Phraig looked away and made no answer.

Riven considered having his team scale the shaft but felt it unwise to put his whole team at risk for a fall. He said to Dynd and Skelan, ”We need the lift.”

The two shadowwalkers nodded in understanding. Both stepped atop the low wall, leaped out to take hold of the ropes, and s.h.i.+nnied down. Vyrhas and Shadem stepped up and looked over the edge of the platform. Riven and Phraig joined them.

Dynd and Skelan slid rapidly, silently, little more than black smears in the darkness.

Dim light from the bottom showed that the shaft descended perhaps two bowshots straight down. Riven had no idea how the original miners had sunk such a shaft. The ropes fell like plumb lines to a winch inset into the wooden lift that sat at the shaft's bottom.

About three-quarters of the way down, Dynd and Skelan swung toward the wall, released the rope, and fell. Phraig gasped. Riven cursed. But both used their hands and feet against the wall to control their otherwise precipitous descent. They landed atop the platform with a hollow thump.

Riven heard a curse from below and the two shadowwalkers bounded out of sight.

A shout of alarm was cut short and the light trickling up the shaft flickered as men fought in the torchlight. The dull thud of fists and elbows finding flesh and the c.h.i.n.k of armor sounded up the shaft.

Silence.

Vyrhas and Shadem shared a look and started over the edge of the shaft, but Dynd reappeared on the lift. He examined the winch for a moment and started to crank. The mechanism clinked with every turn of the crank arm. Riven winced at the sound.

It seemed to take a lifetime before Dynd got the lift up the shaft. The winch cylinder was geared to allow even a single man to lift a heavily loaded platform.

”Well done,” Riven said to Dynd. ”Skelan?”

”Below. He lives,” answered Dynd.

Riven, Phraig, and the three shadowwalkers climbed onto the lift and Dynd cranked them downward. When they reached the bottom, they found Skelan crouched over three guards. He was bleeding from a wound on his arm and a scratch on his face. The guards' helms and blades lay scattered on the ground. From the angles of their necks, Riven knew the guards were dead. Skelan held a finger to his lips for silence and pointed past them down the tunnel.