Vim and Slann thumped up the stairs. The second pair of soldiers hefted their bolt of silk. The crowd were a quivering mass of indignation. Nish darted in and tried to pick up the third bolt. It was extremely heavy, and when he got it onto his shoulders the ends of the roll bent to the floor. He’d never carry it up the stairs on his own.
‘Don’t move!’ said the soldier on the left.
Nish staggered to the door. The old man was slowly creeping forward. ‘If you have to shoot, try not to hurt him,’ said Nish. ‘This is their home, after all.’
The crowd moved up behind the oldster. One step; two; three. They weren’t looking at the two soldiers. Every eye was on Nish.
‘No further!’ Nish shouted. ‘Soldiers, shoot if they go one more step.’
The old man looked Nish in the eye and kept coming.
‘Stop or we’ll shoot!’ said the soldier on the left.
The old man ignored him. The crossbow snapped, the bolt taking him in the middle of the forehead and hurling him backwards into the throng. A woman wailed. Children screamed. Two men took the oldster under the arms and dragged his body down the stairs into the darkness. The rest moved down to the limit of visibility and remained there. The soldier frantically reloaded his crossbow.
‘You bloody fool!’ Nish raged, dropping his roll. ‘I said don’t hurt him.’
‘And then you said to shoot if he went any further,’ said the soldier, as if that made it all right.
Vim and Slann came thumping down the stairs, followed by the second pair of soldiers. ‘What’s happened?’ panted Vim.
Nish told them.
‘Not good,’ said Slann. ‘I wonder what they’ll do now?’
‘I don’t dare think. Come on. Get the rest of the rolls up. We need another six.’
The soldiers went up with another three rolls of silk, the second pair dragging a bolt each. Silence fell.
‘It’s very quiet down there,’ said Nish. ‘I wonder what they’re up to?’
‘Running for their lives,’ said the soldier who had fired. ‘Vermin.’
Disgusted, Nish returned to the silk floor and began to drag the remaining bolts toward the entrance. He was lifting the third when the soldier who had fired clutched at his throat and toppled down the steps. The other soldier threw himself in through the entrance.
‘What was it?’ said Nish.
‘A slug from a sling, I’d say. Caught him in the throat.’
‘Do you think he’ll be all right?’
‘If the slug didn’t kill him, or the fall, they will when he gets to the –’
Slaughtering noises came up from the darkness. Nish looked around the corner. The lantern still glowed in the middle of the step. He ducked back hastily as another slug smacked into the side of the doorframe.
The soldier picked it up. It was a piece of tightly rolled lead sheet, about the size of a plum. ‘Enough to kill a man if it hits him in the right place. Are they coming?’
‘Couldn’t see anything.’
‘Makes it worse. Should I put the bow around the corner and send a bolt down at them?’
‘Might as well,’ said Nish. ‘Aim high. I don’t want to kill anyone else. Though I don’t suppose they’ll be so scrupulous now.’
The soldier fired. A yelp was followed by sounds of people fleeing down the stairs.
Vim and Slann came creeping down and sprang in through the doorway.
‘Where are the others?’ said Nish.
‘Roping the rolls and winching them up,’ said Slann.
‘All right. Let’s get these last three.’
Before they could load them onto their shoulders, something clattered on the steps and began to rattle and sploosh its way down again. Something else followed it, then a third object.
‘Sounds as though they’re throwing buckets of water at us.’
‘Why would they throw water –’
Nish smelt turpentine; then, with a whoo-whoomph, fire exploded up the stairs, licking in through the entrance and coiling around into the room. Nish’s dangling sleeve began to smoke. He hurled himself backwards away from the door, dashing the flames out against the floor. Vim’s hair was ablaze.
Nish whacked it out with his hands and they moved further away, staring at the flames which were roaring up past them. The three bolts of silk on the floor began to burn.
He tried to drag one out of the way but it was already well ablaze and the silk would be ruined.
‘Can we get up the stairs?’ called Slann, who was furthest from the door.