The Doom Brigade

by Don Perrin

  “I’ve told you,” said Auger, after a moment’s intense thought.

  “I don’t count! Anyone else? Mortar? Pestle?”

  “No,” Auger said.

  Selquist was relieved, a feeling that evaporated quickly when Auger added, “They were the ones who told me.”

  Selquist groaned. “Does everyone in the whole bloody party know?”

  “I don’t think so. Mortar said I wasn’t to mention it to Moorthane or the rest of his bunch. Mortar said he figured that it was all part of your plan and that it was pretty damn clever of you.”

  “Mortar said that?” Selquist was pleased. “Pretty damn clever?”

  Auger nodded.

  “Well, he’s right,” Selquist stated. “It was pretty damn clever of me.”

  He started crawling again, moving along rapidly.

  “I don’t understand, Selquist,” Auger said, scuttling along behind. “Do you want the draconians to be following us?”

  “Of course. Otherwise, how will they know how to find the secret entrance?”

  Auger assimilated this. It appeared to him to have a flaw. “Do we want them to find the secret entrance?”

  “Of course. Otherwise, how are they going to get inside and lead us to the treasure?”

  Auger assimilated this, as well. “Why will they lead us to the treasure?”

  “Because they have the map!” Selquist was triumphant.

  “We have a map.”

  “Not a very good one. This way is a lot more certain.”

  Auger crawled along in the darkness, did some more thinking. “But, Selquist, what if the draconians decide to take the treasure for themselves?”

  “They won’t. They’re only interested in one thing—the draconian eggs.”

  Auger gasped. “The eggs! How do they know about the eggs?”

  “I told them.” Selquist was smug. “That’s why they’re following us. And that’s why we’re going to be following them! Pretty damn clever, huh?”

  Auger was overwhelmed at the sheer masterful braininess of this scheme. “Just one thing, though. Won’t the draconians be really mad when they find Moorthane squishing the eggs?”

  “That,” said Selquist lightly, “is Moorbrain’s problem.”

  The two dwarves continued crawling.

  * * * * *

  On their arrival, Selquist and Auger found the rest of the dwarves had safely reached the bottom of the air shaft. Moorthane was standing at the bottom, trying to figure out how to recover the ropes.

  “Just leave them,” Selquist suggested. “The draconians can use them.”

  “I don’t know,” Moorthane said solemnly. “It seems—” His eyes bulged. He began to sputter. “What? What? Draconians? What draconians?”

  “Don’t keep repeating yourself, Moorbrain. It makes you sound even stupider than usual. The draconians who’ve been following us, of course. The draconians who have the only good map. I can get us and them to the starting point, but, after that, our map’s a bit muddled, and we’re going to have to rely on them.”

  Moorthane was rendered speechless.

  “Shut your mouth, Moorbrain,” Selquist continued. “A rappel will fly into it. You should be thanking me. I’m going to make you a hero! Your name will live in legend and song for centuries to come.

  “Now”—he put his arm around the stunned war chief, drew him off to one side—“here’s my plan.…”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The last draconian lowered himself down the rope. Kang waited at the bottom to make certain everyone arrived safely. We could have used our wings after all, he thought. Floated down, not bothered with these ropes.

  But he hadn’t been able to judge how wide the tunnel was and so he’d insisted that everyone climb. He didn’t want anyone breaking a wing in case the shaft suddenly narrowed.

  One of the Sivaks, who’d been first down, had been sent out to scout. He came back to report.

  “No sign of anyone up ahead, sir,” he said. “Although the place reeks of dwarf. They were here, and not long ago. Nice of them to leave the ropes.”

  Kang grunted. “Yes, wasn’t it? Little bastards think they’re so clever. Keep your eyes open for ambush.” He took out the map. “Slith! Bring that light over here.”

  The regimental second-in-command brought an oil light that was known among thieves as a dark lantern. Made of iron, the lantern had iron panels that slid open to let out the light of the burning wick. When the panels were shut, the light could not be seen at all. Slith held the lantern over the map.

  “The route to the treasure starts in a large chamber. It can’t be too far. Look, Southgate’s marked down here and Northgate’s marked up here. This is where we are, right between the two and off to the west. And that’s where the chamber is, just a bit north of us.”

  “But it’s a rat’s warren down here, sir,” said Slith in disgust. “Tunnels and shafts running off in every direction. How will we find the right one?”

  “Simple,” said Kang, grinning and shoving the map back in a pouch. “We follow the dwarves. Douse that light. Slith, you go on point.”

  Draconians, like their dragon ancestors, were at home inside caverns and tunnels. Once their eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, they were able to move along rapidly.

  The smell of dwarf was particularly strong in one of the tunnels, a tunnel that had two iron rails embedded in the floor.

  Spreading out single file, the draconians entered the tunnel. The walking was easy. The tunnel was large and ran straight into the heart of the mountain. No other tunnels or shafts branched off from it, it neither curved nor bent.

  The smell of dwarf led them on, growing stronger and fresher. They walked for what Kang estimated was about an hour and then he saw Slith, who had been out in front, motioning.

  “Wait here,” Kang ordered and went on ahead.

  “What is it?”

  Slith opened the lantern’s panel. A shaft of yellow light flared out, revealed the dismembered bodies of two dwarves lying huddled in the tunnel. Both wore metal armor and both held swords in their skeletal hands. Both had been brutally ripped apart, the flesh picked from their bones.

  “I’m no coward, sir,” Slith said, “but I don’t mind telling you I wouldn’t want to meet the creature that did this.”

  “I’m no coward, and I agree with you,” said Kang. He examined the remains. “They’ve been dead about twenty years or so. Hopefully, whatever did this has moved on. Still, keep your eyes open.”

  “Yes, sir. That’s what I wanted to tell you, sir. The tunnel curves around a bend up ahead,” Slith said, his voice soft. “It’d be a damn good place for an ambush, sir. Dwarves or … whatever.”

  “Right. Go on ahead. We’ll keep you covered.”

  Slith shut the panel, squelched the light, and crept away. Kang brought the troop up, ordered everyone to a halt near the bodies of the dead dwarves.

  Slith moved cautiously toward the bend in the tunnel. Almost there, he stopped. The rock face was moist; water was seeping down from somewhere above. The rock glistened faintly.

  Slith stood unmoving until his body temperature had cooled to that of the temperature of the caverns. When that happened, he would be invisible to the dwarves, whose night-vision was similar to that of the draconians, allowing them to see objects that radiated heat. He would also be invisible to anything else that might be lurking in the shadows.

  When he deemed that he was cooled down, Slith slid around the bend, keeping his body pressed against the wall.

  He saw nothing, heard nothing. He drew aside the panel, flashed the light around swiftly. The tunnel continued on ahead, iron rails gleaming in the lantern’s light.

  He gave a whistle that was the “all clear” signal and continued on. Kang and the troop marched silently behind.

  After another hour, the tunnel opened into a small chamber attached to another small chamber. Judging by the pick marks on the walls, the Hylar dwarves had done a lot of digging
here, had probably run across a good vein of iron ore. Very little tailings remained, no tools lay scattered about. The dwarves left clean work sites, which practice Kang approved.

  The draconians walked through the two chambers, were once again in the tunnel, when Slith returned.

  “This smaller chamber opens into a huge chamber,” he reported. “Much bigger than the last two. And I’ve found something. It looks like our guides stopped here and cooked dinner.”

  “How long?”

  “The wood’s cold. I’d say five or six hours.”

  Kang entered the chamber, which was, as Slith had said, massive. Kang guessed that long ago, when this area was in use, the miners must have used the chamber to unload and reload ore cars.

  Twenty rusted cars in various states of disrepair stood along the far wall of the chamber. Wheels, axles, and hinges littered the floor. Either the dwarves hadn’t bothered to clean up this work site, or they’d fled it in a hurry.

  He recalled the bodies they’d discovered, hoped that if anything monstrous was still down in these tunnels, it preferred dwarf to reptile.

  “Put out sentries,” he ordered Slith. “We’ll rest here.”

  “Sir, do you want torches lit?”

  “Might as well. At least we can have a look around. This may be the starting point on the map,” Kang said.

  The draconians lit torches, but the chamber was so vast the light didn’t reach the ceiling. Sentries with torches came to halt when they found a wall.

  Soon, the entire chamber was illuminated. Kang saw, with growing excitement, that the chamber was shaped like a kidney bean and that massive blocks formed a wall opposite him, a wall that sealed off one side.

  He drew out the map, studied it in the light. The first chamber, the starting point on the map, was shaped like a kidney bean. The blocked-up wall was indicated as well.

  “Bless their little hearts,” said Kang in satisfaction, looking down at what remained of the dwarves’ cooking fire. “They’ve led us to the right spot.”

  The draconians rested and ate. Kang and Slith studied the map.

  “There should be an exit over there.” Kang pointed to his right. “Viss,” he called out to one of the sentries. “Take that light over. What do you find?”

  The Sivak carried the torch in the direction indicated. “An exit, sir,” he reported.

  Kang looked back at the map. “Are there iron rails running through it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Slith reached out, gripped Kang’s forearm. “This is it, sir! This is it!”

  “Yes.” Kang couldn’t say anything more. His elation swelled up inside him, stopped his speech, nearly stopped his breathing. He offered a silent prayer of thanksgiving to his Queen and, again, pledged her his loyalty.

  “You should eat something, sir,” Slith said, bringing over a hunk of dried meat and a piece of stale bread.

  This was the very last of the rations. Kang had left the Baaz back in the village with orders to go hunting—for deer and rabbit, not dwarf. He doubted that they’d find much, however. The drought had forced the deer to seek food and water in areas less harsh than the mountains.

  And how were his men going to survive the winter?

  Kang put that thought out of his head. One problem at a time. He wasn’t hungry, but he forced himself to eat, to keep up his strength. He ordered the sentries changed, so that the rest of his troop could eat, and then looked back at the map. Slith had been inspecting the exit.

  “Well?” Kang asked, as Slith returned.

  The Sivak scratched his head. “The tunnel’s made for dwarves, sir. We’ll have to walk bent double. And something else. The stench is gone.”

  Kang looked up, puzzled. “What stench?”

  “Dwarf, sir. I don’t smell ’em anywhere.”

  Kang traced a claw over the first leg of the route described by the map. The route twisted and turned.

  He grinned, chuckled. “They don’t have the map! They’ve taken a wrong turn already.”

  “But they got this far, sir,” Slith argued.

  “They’ve been here before, as you said. The route ran straight, with only one bend. This chamber is easy to find. The rest won’t be, though. Look at this.” He pointed to a fork with four exits, only one of which led to the treasure. “They could be wandering down there for months without a map.”

  When the last sentry had finished eating, Kang issued orders.

  “We’ll move on until we’re too tired to go any farther. There’s no day or night down here, so we go as far as we can, find a safe place to rest, then carry on again when we wake up.”

  He paused, then added, “Keep your eyes and ears open.”

  Everyone nodded. They’d all seen the bodies. They repacked their gear, and headed out.

  “I’ll take the lead, Slith. You stay right behind me. Keep the dark lantern covered while we march. I’ll use it to refer to the map when we need to.”

  The iron rails made the path easy to follow, even in the darkness, which was so thick and heavy that the draconians’ night vision had trouble penetrating the endless black. Their pace slowed. The tunnels narrowed, were only dwarf-height. The draconians were forced to walk bent over, their wings scraping the ceiling.

  When Kang nearly knocked his head on a sagging beam, he called a halt. He would have given anything to straighten. His back ached from the strain of bending double. Crouching down on the floor, he managed to get some relief.

  “Let’s see the map,” he ordered.

  Slith slid the cover of the dark lantern, shone the soft light on the map.

  “There’s an open area up ahead,” Kang said, adding, “Thank the Queen! We can at least stand up and walk like men, not goblins. And keep the light shining. This darkness is slowing us down. If anything sees us, it’s welcome to a fight. Better that than knocking myself silly.”

  They moved on.

  After an hour’s backbreaking march, the draconians entered another chamber, small in size, but with a ceiling high enough for the draconians to straighten, rub their sore backs, and flex their cramped wings.

  “We’re at another fork. Which way now, sir?” Slith asked.

  Kang brought out the map.

  Three times they’d come to forks in the iron rail line. Sometimes the map indicated that they should take the right, sometimes the left. But they were always, Kang noted, following the rails.

  He was beginning to understand why. The Daewar had loaded the loot onto rail cars, hauled it to their destination. It was a damn good idea, one he’d already discussed with Slith. The treasure had come in by rail. It would go out by rail.

  Gloth came forward, saluted. “Sir, I hear something.”

  “Yes,” Slith said. “I’ve been hearing it, too. A sort of shuffling and a clanking and then it stops. Sometimes I think it’s behind me and sometimes ahead of me.”

  “I’ve heard the same. Probably it’s the dwarves,” Kang said. “They could be anywhere down here, bumbling around in the dark. These tunnels distort the sound, carry it for miles. Let’s go.”

  “I hope it’s dwarves and not whatever eats dwarves,” said Gloth in a low tone to Slith.

  “You and me both,” Slith replied.

  He drew his sword. The other draconians drew their weapons and, bending over with groans, they entered another tunnel.

  The light flashed down the tunnel, stabbing into the heavy darkness, playing off rock and timber and the gleaming iron rails.

  Another hour of walking brought them to a three-way fork. Kang was investigating the map when the flame in the lantern started to waver.

  “I have to fill it with oil, sir,” Slith said.

  “Fine. While you’re doing that, send scouts down each of these three shafts. Not far. About two hundred paces. See if you can find out what’s making those noises.”

  Slith issued the orders. Three Sivaks split up, each taking one tunnel, and crept into the darkness.

  Slith refilled the lant
ern. He and Kang were, once more, studying the map when they heard a thumping sound. One of the Sivaks was returning on the run.

  Kang jumped to his feet. The rest of the draconians formed into battle line behind their commander.

  The Sivak ran forward, saluted. “I heard movement down that shaft there, sir.” He indicated the left branch.

  “How far ahead?” Kang asked.

  “I was out around a hundred paces. I stopped for a few moments to listen. I could hear faint scraping sounds off in the distance. I don’t know how far. It could be ten feet or ten miles. But it sounded like they were ahead of us.”

  Kang smiled. “It must be the dwarves. Good. They’ve taken the wrong fork.”

  The map indicated the center branch. The draconians relaxed, settled down to rest, wait for the other scouts to return. When they did, neither reported hearing anything.

  “We’re ahead, now,” Kang told his men. “I know you’re tired. So am I. But let’s press the advantage.”

  They moved down the center fork. The ceiling was somewhat higher here, they had only to bend head and shoulders. Two more forks took them to their right.

  Kang thought how wonderful it would be to walk upright, breathe fresh air, bask in the sunlight. He’d lived out in the open too long. He was beginning to get heartily sick of this tunnel.

  Slith’s light flared out, illuminated a small chamber off to the right. Kang stopped, motioned for a halt.

  “This looks as good a place as any. Let’s get some sleep.”

  Slith agreed. “Is it all right with you, sir, if I send out three scouts? Any forks ahead?”

  Kang consulted the map. “They’ll come to a fork about a mile and a half down. We cross a bridge over a large chasm, and the fork is on the other side. Tell them to stop there, listen, then come back. Where’s Gloth?”

  “Here, sir.” The Bozak stepped forward.

  “You have your magical spells still?”

  Gloth cast about in his mind for them. He could only handle the most elementary spell. Anything complicated and he forgot the words or got them tangled up or forgot to draw the symbol or misplaced his spell components. Kang had worked with him patiently, until Gloth was able to retain a few simple spells.