by Max Anthony
“Probably just a load of old skeletons now,” said Rasmus, then suddenly realised that he was being pessimistic. He clapped Viddo on the shoulder to show camaraderie. “I am happy to concede that we are in a tomb of some description, and one that is littered with wealth unimaginable. That is to say unimaginable until we find it and commandeer it for our own betterment.”
“That’s the spirit!” said Viddo, perking up at this support of his catacomb hypothesis. “Onward to a king’s ransom in thievery!”
“An emperor’s ransom! I shall not settle for anything less!”
Five
The passageway was long, with one or two branches leading away at irregular intervals. For a reason he couldn’t explain, Viddo felt no urge to follow these new passages and the pair continued straight ahead. After a short time, the thief found his right shoulder tingling, which he knew was a sure sign that they were either being followed or watched. He didn’t want to say anything aloud, so nudged the wizard in the ribs and issued forth with a huge wink to indicate that something was possibly amiss. Naturally, Rasmus, seasoned adventurer that he was, took the hints at face value and didn’t object when Viddo started exhibiting unusual behaviour, such as stooping to tie his shoelaces, pausing to scratch his head or cast covert glances over his shoulder. Whatever it was that followed, it was evasive and Viddo was not able to catch a sight of it.
“Want me to throw a fireball down the corridor?” whispered Rasmus from the side of his mouth, as if speaking in this way somehow made the utterance harder to overhear.
“No, best not to at the moment,” whispered Viddo, determined to use subtlety rather than brute force to ensnare the culprit.
At the next branch from the main corridor, they turned in unison along this new passage and immediately pressed themselves tightly into the wall so that they would remain unseen. Rasmus sent his light spell a few yards ahead of them, to give them impression that they’d continued walking. With their breath held, they waited, but nothing showed up for them to stab, maim or capture. Whatever it was that followed them, it wasn’t fooled by this simple trick.
“Bugger it,” said Viddo. “I’m certain there’s something out there.”
“A sneaky little bastard,” said Rasmus.
“We can’t let it keep following us. Who knows what it intends or what other perils it will alert to our presence?” Viddo was even now certain that they were being tailed by a creature, rather than a human.
They gave up on their attempted concealment and remained on this new passageway, as if they’d intended to go this way all along. Neither wanted to give the creature the satisfaction of knowing that it had rumbled their attempt to collar it, even though it certainly knew anyway, hence why it hadn’t bumbled its merry way into their poorly contrived trap.
This new passage was as featureless as the other and they hurried along, trying to get their pursuer to make an error of judgement. It did not, but an unseen hand threw a fist-sized stone into the lower back of Rasmus. “Ouch!” he exclaimed, already heartily sick of being a target for rock-throwing individuals.
Viddo was peeved at this attack and wheeled about, hurtling along the corridor whence they had come. He was very fast and hoped to catch the hurler by surprise. His sharp ears picked up a nasty little cackle in the darkness and he gave chase. There was the sound of footsteps, though the click-click-click told of claws rather than toenails or boots. Behind, Rasmus stampeded after him, his heavy footsteps uncommonly loud in comparison to those of the silent thief. Viddo closed his eyes briefly as he waited for the inevitable shout from his friend.
“Wait for me!” came the shout, as Rasmus did his best to keep up.
The wizard’s efforts were in vain and Viddo did not slow in his pursuit. He’d left the glow of the wizard’s light spell behind, but the thief was able to see adequately in the darkness. All adventurer types had their own strengths and weaknesses, and while Viddo could not throw balls of molten rock at his enemies, he had many other capabilities. The thief re-joined the original passageway and increased his pace as much as he dared. Ahead, he thought he could make out something, running either on all fours, or just with a very stooped back.
At the speed he was going, Viddo had little time to slow down when the passageway abruptly entered a room. It was another square room, almost forty feet to a side and lined with alcoves from floor to ceiling. Viddo had no chance to act when he heard a rattling sound behind him, followed by a harsh metal clunk. He knew the sound well – in his haste, he’d triggered a trap of some sort and a door had slid across from the wall of the passageway, doubtless blocking him in here. There was no other exit from this room and whatever he’d been following was gone, or at least it was not visible any longer.
“Balls,” thought Viddo succinctly.
Other, less experienced thieves might have stood around with their mouths agape for a time as they wondered what to do. Not so Viddo, who realised that trapped doors and the like were rarely installed to lure adventurers in for surprise parties or banquets. He quickly took in the environmental details to decide where the likely threats lay. Firstly, a door had indeed slid shut behind him. It was solid, dull iron and with the sort of keyhole that he could almost get his fist into – he had no doubt that it was locked. A sneer appeared briefly on his face at the incompetence of the locksmith who had made this particular door and Viddo’s hand had fished out a spoon from his pocket to unlock it before his brain could remind him that there were other pressing concerns.
In the darkness, Viddo squinted at the alcoves that lined the walls. There may have been forty of them all told, each festooned with something that looked rather like dusty cobwebs. Inside the alcoves were shapes – familiar-looking shapes to a person who’d seen such things before.
On the other side of the door there was a muffled thump as an incautious wizard collided with it, having been unable to slow his rushing feet in time. Within the room, there were more sinister sounds: clicking, rustling and rattling sounds.
“Viddo? Are you there?” came the voice of Rasmus.
Viddo didn’t want to speak out loud, in the hope that not all of the room’s occupants were aware of his presence. In a nearby alcove, which Viddo knew to be a bier, something thin and tall sat up, quickly and jerkily. In a trice, the thief got there and stabbed at the creature, using the daggers which had appeared in his hands. The magical blades crunched easily through parchment-like skin and bone. With a rattle, the creature fell back, with its magical energies expunged.
On the other side of the room, another four of the creatures sat up at once. Viddo had hoped to be given a few seconds to open the door, but took a gamble that he might be able to dispatch these new ones before any more awoke. He sprinted across the room to the closest. It was the skeleton of a human. There was still flesh on its bones, but only in shreds, stuck here and there, sickly grey in colour. Whatever clothes it might have worn were gone – rotted away or stolen by long-dead grave robbers. It had a dull metal helmet on its head, the metal looking paper-thin as if the centuries had gradually worn it away. It wore no other protective armour and turned to face Viddo, just as the thief stabbed it in the skull. Viddo knew that clubbing weapons such as maces and staves tended to fare better against these undead, but his magical daggers were sufficient to give this one enough of an injury that it fell down, unmoving.
There was a clattering, rattling sound as several more skeletons propped themselves up on their yellowed arms and pushed themselves onto the floor. Skeletons were amongst the weakest of the undead, but Viddo hated them. Their empty sockets somehow managed to convey both loss and hatred at once, and their jaws always looked like they were talking, as if they were trying to communicate their misery.
Determined not to back down, Viddo looked one of the skeletons squarely in the face and swung a kick at it, catching it on the side of the knee. The leg sagged, but the skeleton did not topple over. This one was weaponless, but there were now sounds of metal scraping against stone,
that suggested a few of them had been laid here with blades.
With astounding speed, Viddo darted in and chopped at the skeleton’s neck bones. It was too slow to react and the thief felt resistance as the edge of his dagger made contact. A normal dagger would have likely bounced off, but Viddo’s did not and the skeleton’s head was detached from its shoulders. The head and its body toppled to the ground in a heap.
Viddo pushed one of his daggers back into his belt and pulled out his spoon. He ran to the metal door, hoping to unlock it quickly. On the other side, he could hear Rasmus muttering to himself, though the words were not clear. The thief pushed the spoon handle into the lock and gave it a twist. There was a satisfying click as the lock was disengaged and Viddo reclaimed his spoon.
With the door unlocked, he spun to face the undead with the second dagger once more in his hand. There was almost a dozen of them on their feet now, their alcoves left empty behind them. There was other stirring movement to indicate that all forty of the undead would shortly be arrayed against him.
“Get the door open!” shouted Viddo. There was no handle on this side and he’d have had to drop both of his daggers to apply himself to opening it by pushing on the metal.
“There’s no handle!” came the reply.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something!” Viddo responded. “And do it quickly please, for I will shortly be hard-pressed!”
Three of the skeletons lurched towards him, their actions jerky but surprisingly fast. Viddo had always thought they moved in the same manner as spiders or rodents. One moment they’d be perfectly still, the next they’d be off at speed. The first of the skeletons had a sword, which it swung forcefully but ineffectively at Viddo’s head. The thief swayed back, just as the second skeleton swung a metal pole with a spike at the end of it. This pole missed by a whisker and Viddo had to roll to one side in order to regain the initiative.
The third skeleton had a set of steel knuckle-dusters and it closed in, flailing away. Viddo showed it a masterful uppercut, bruising his own knuckles in the process and hardly slowing down the skeleton’s assault. A dagger in the sternum was more effective at dispersing the evil magics which animated the creature, and it slumped to the ground with a dull rattle.
Viddo leaped back to give himself some space. The sword and pole-wielding skeletons had now been joined by another five of the undead, three of whom wafted about with their own motley weapons. Idly, Viddo noted that one of the skeletons wore a codpiece, while another had a single chain mail boot on its foot.
The undead attacked, though not with skill or in unison. Their numbers were sufficient to give Viddo some problems and he had to rely on all of his finesse to keep them at bay. He managed to lop off two or three hands and a head and then stabbed the codpiece-wearing skeleton in the groin. The weapons of the undead were of a poor quality and where Viddo blocked and parried, their blades would often shear or break. Still, they pressed on, mindlessly seeking his death.
The room was large and Viddo used this to his advantage as he tumbled and rolled, grateful that these creatures were stupid and lacking in direction. One of them caught him with a glancing sword blow on his breastplate, but the magic of the leather was enough to keep the thief safe from harm and the skeleton received a headbutt for its troubles. Viddo remembered why it wasn’t wise to headbutt the undead and he was left with a deep scrape on his forehead, where it had contacted the bony nose of his opponent.
Viddo’s acrobatics had taken him close to the door and he noted that Rasmus had managed to slide it open a crack.
“Get a move on, will you?” said Viddo. “There’s a fair old number of skeletons in here, you know?”
“It’s a bit stiff,” grunted Rasmus as he pushed and pulled.
Viddo had to turn his attention once more to the attacking horde, just in time to dodge aside and avoid a skeletal kick that one of the undead had swung in his direction. Viddo crouched and cut the offending leg clean off. The skeleton fell over, though its arms continued to thrash.
Now he was pushed close against the wall, and surrounded by five skeletons. More of them crowded behind their fellows, patiently awaiting an opportunity to kill the living. From the corner of his eye, Viddo watched a slender arm emerge through the partially-opened doorway and a series of bright blue sparks jumped from the hand that was attached to this arm. These sparks jumped to one of the undead and then spread to another six close by. The first skeleton promptly fell over, followed by four of the others. The last two were charred and smoked a bit, but they remained as eager as ever to attack.
Rasmus’ spell had given Viddo a bit of breathing room and he plunged his daggers into bone and dried flesh, destroying two more skeletons, which allowed him to break out of the encirclement and run across to the other side of the room. The undead were not quick to react and they lurched after him, several tripping over each other and landing in a heap. More sparks jumped from Rasmus’ hand into this pile of struggling bones, and they fell still.
“These sparks only have a short range!” called Rasmus through the gap. “I can’t reach them now that you’ve lured them all over there!”
“Just get the door open!” said Viddo. He’d discovered a new tactic, which involved running around the perimeter of the room. He was just fast enough that the pursuing skeletons were not quite able to engage him in combat before he ran out of range again, and they mingled in the centre of the room like sheep being corralled by a hound.
“Want me to try a fireball?” asked Rasmus hopefully, when Viddo sprinted past the doorway. The wizard liked fireballs and thought them infinitely preferable to struggling with a stiff door that didn’t want to open any further than he’d already got it.
“No!” shouted Viddo, now in the far corner. “I think that would be a silly idea!”
“I can’t get this open any further!” the wizard said.
“Next time I run past, get ready to pull!” responded the thief.
They tried Viddo’s plan, such as it was. When he came to the door, he slowed to a halt and gave it a hearty yank, while Rasmus did the same from the other side. A skeleton got close enough that Viddo had to quickly draw a dagger and stab it, before making his escape once more.
“Look, there’re only about twenty left now,” called Rasmus. “Why don’t you just keep running and pick them off one at a time?”
“Because one of them might get lucky and shove a sword into me, you buffoon!”
It’s a long while since I’ve been called a buffoon thought Rasmus with a chuckle. He redoubled his efforts on the door, hampered by the fact that wizards were not generally the most physically powerful of specimens. Poring over tomes and spell books was not known to build muscle mass and many wizards were particularly feeble. Rasmus was a go out and get it kind of adventurer, so was stronger than many of his brethren, but would have appreciated a little help in getting this door open.
“Haven’t you got any other spells you can use?” asked Viddo, dashing past once more. Rasmus saw that the thief now had a severed skeletal hand attached to the back of his neck.
“A few,” admitted Rasmus. “But these are only skeletons. I don’t want to use up all of my best resources on a mob of low-level undead.”
“Fine, fine,” said Viddo, once more by the door. “Zap another bunch of them and I’ll finish off the rest.”
Rasmus pushed his hand through again and unleashed another volley of his short-range sparks, crumpling another half dozen of the skeletons to the stone floor. Viddo punched another, grimacing at the fresh pain in his knuckles and stabbed a second.
“That door really won’t move at all?” he asked.
“It won’t budge an inch further,” said Rasmus. “I can get both of my hands in the gap now, but it won’t move.”
Something caught Viddo’s eye. “Oh for crying out loud!” he exclaimed. On the floor, a skeletal hand was jammed in the door’s runners, at the point where it was meant to slide into the wall. “One of these creatures ha
s dropped a hand in the way,” he said.
As he fended off the untrained blows aimed at his head and torso, Viddo reached out with the toe of his boot and tried to flick the hand out from the door’s runners. It was firmly jammed and he had to give it a hard kick, which shattered the bones of the hand and sent it skittering across the floor.
“Try it now,” Viddo said, just as a bony fist socked him on the jaw. “Oof you dirty sod!” he cried in dismay.
“Me?” asked Rasmus.
“Just pull the door, will you?”
With its makeshift chock removed, the door slid smoothly and easily back into its opening and Rasmus hurried in, swinging his cosh left and right. The heavy metal of the weapon was surprisingly effective in cracking metal and bone alike, and with the wizardly reinforcement, the pair of them soon put paid to the last of their undead foes.
Viddo put away his daggers and gave a sword-clutching arm on the floor next to him a petulant kick.
“I hope there’s something worth our while after all that hoo-hah,” he said.
“Yes, my arms are going to ache in the morning after all that tugging at the door,” said Rasmus, flexing his shoulders and wheeling his arms around once or twice.
Viddo considered saying something, but closed his mouth and began rooting through the bones. Though the skeletal remains were many, Viddo was skilled in the art of identifying items of value, so it didn’t take him long before he reached his conclusion.
“Nothing!” he said in disgust. “Not one sodding copper coin.”
“Perhaps I should have spoken sooner, but don’t you think that any valuables will have fallen off their bodies and into those alcoves?” enquired the wizard.
“Hmm,” said Viddo noncommittally. He didn’t want to let on that he’d overlooked the obvious in his state of dudgeon at having to fend off forty skeletons almost without assistance.