Blades of the Banished - Robert Ryan Page 0,17

of the mountain like a stake. It was a way that even the ancients who knew this place might have feared to tread.

They went on. They were deep underground now, and the weight of measureless stone piled above. The floor turned to sand. It was loose under their boots, and deep. Lanrik bent down and ran a hand through it. It gleamed white beneath Erlissa’s light. It was pure, without soil or silt, and the grains were large and sharp edged. He let it slip through his fingers and continued.

Unexpectedly, the floor levelled out. How deep they were, he could not tell. Perhaps they had descended to the level of the black tower. Maybe they had gone deeper.

Water bubbled from a crack in the wall to their right. It was a spring, fed, he supposed, from the mountain slopes somewhere above. It ran in a narrow channel across the passage.

They paused, and he bent down to dip his fingers into it. He took them out again quickly and stood.

“It’s hot,” he said.

Erlissa nodded. “It comes from deep in the earth. Deeper than any tunnel carved or found by man.”

They stepped over the channel and moved ahead. The ground remained level, and the way widened further. For the first time, he heard noise, though he could not identify it. It was a dull squeaking. And the air began to smell. Swiftly, the odor grew strong until it was a sharp stench.

The noise became louder. Erlissa wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“Bats,” she said.

He smiled in the dark. The smell was obnoxious, but it reassured him that there was life down here. If the bats could survive, so too could he and Erlissa, even if she was not best pleased with the surroundings.

They moved ahead into a larger cavern. Bats clung to the ragged rock faces. Thousands of them. They did not like the light, and grew agitated. Erlissa dimmed it, till it was just enough to see by, and they made their way through the chamber.

The smell was nauseating. They trod carefully, for the floor was deep in droppings. There were dead bats too. And here at least, if he had not seen any elsewhere in the cave, were insects; living, feeding, scurrying within the piles of bat dung and turning it over.

Erlissa retched, but she made no move to get through the cavern faster. Wary of danger, she stepped at the same pace, seeking the way forward as carefully as ever.

Eventually, the chamber narrowed once more and the bats grew less numerous, until at last they were gone. But the stench remained, if not quite as strong. The tunnel dropped down even more steeply at this point.

The smell petered out rapidly now, for the cavern had been warmed by the bodies of so many bats, and the warm air rose, carrying much of the odor with it.

Erlissa paused. A sheen of sweat gleamed on her face, and her skin looked sickly.

“That was revolting,” she whispered.

“Yes, but I noticed this at least. There were no tracks in that cave. We should be alone down here, for nothing could fail to leave a trail on the floor in there.”

“Well, I’m glad you found some use for all that muck.”

He smiled. “A Raithlin never lets slip an opportunity.”

She gave him a look of disgust and moved on.

Once again the tunnel levelled out. It widened too, swiftly this time, and they were now in an open space. This was a vast cavern, but the ceiling was low, barely above their heads. The floor was of solid rock, slick with moisture. They went ahead, now walking side by side.

The rock grew wetter, and beaded moisture dripped from the walls. It was suddenly warm too.

“I don’t like this place,” Erlissa said.

Lanrik had learned to trust her instincts. He was unsure of whether to nock an arrow or draw his sword. He chose the sword, and it felt good in his hand. Conhain’s sword. It still gave him a thrill to touch it, more so to think that he had spoken with the great man himself, or at least his spirit. That he was descended from him was a shock. He had achieved some measure of his own success, served his country well, but he was not Conhain and could never match his deeds. Yet it was good to know that some remnant of the great man’s blood ran through his own veins.

Erlissa paused, and Lanrik realized his mind was wandering. He could not afford that. He looked