Emperor of Ansalon v-3

by Douglas Niles

  Chapter 16

  Vallenswade

  Ariakas struggled to turn his head, but once again a net bound him too effectively to allow even minimal movement. Lyrelee breathed heavily, pressed by their bonds against the armor of his back. He felt her wriggle, but the net restrained them so tightly that she could do little more than move her fingers.

  "You are persistent, humans." The well-modulated voice emerged from the shadows, the tone cool but not unimpressed. "I would have thought we lost you back in the catacombs."

  Again Ariakas tried to turn, to bring his light to bear on the speaker, but he could not. Something tall and lanky moved through the shadows beside him, and then that supple form squatted on the floor.

  Ariakas cursed, recoiling involuntarily from an ape shy;like visage that suddenly dropped into his line of sight. The creature's face was covered with fur, and it had a protruding muzzle flanked by two yellow eyes centered with dark, slitted pupils. Those huge eyes blinked, pre shy;sumably in reaction to the light, and then a wide mouth gaped open, revealing several sharp fangs.

  "Who are you?" demanded Ariakas.

  "I am called Vallenswade. Like you, I am a warrior," replied the ape creature, lips and tongue articulating in a very humanlike fashion. In fact, this bizarre-looking fel shy;low seemed better spoken than a good number of the men and women Ariakas had known. "And you, two- how are you called?"

  The warrior bit his lip, refusing to answer, anticipating a kick or some other prodding persuasion. Instead, Val shy;lenswade simply rose to his feet and turned away. The man saw a bare foot, also furred, equipped with a large toe that reached to the side like a thumb, before the crea shy;ture was swallowed by the darkness.

  Sudden panic infused Ariakas. "Wait!" he cried, curs shy;ing the tension that thrummed in his voice. "I am called Ariakas-I am a warrior with the temple that stands above our heads. Tell me, Vallenswade," he pressed, his voice sounding more relaxed. "What manner of creature are you? Do you live here, in the Sanctified Catacombs?"

  He heard a dry, rustling chuckle. "I am one of a very old race-as old as the ogres, we are. We are the Shilo-Thahn- you humans, I believe, know us as the shadowpeople."

  "Only by repute," Ariakas said with a grunt. His posi shy;tion became increasingly uncomfortable. "Do you sup shy;pose you could loosen this net a bit?" he asked.

  "Will you give your word that you will not attack me or my people?"

  "Yes-I give my word," Ariakas said hastily. "I just want to talk."

  "Of course," Vallenswade agreed. He barked some commands in a strange tongue, and the warrior immedi shy;ately felt the strands loosen around them. Lyrelee rolled free, gasping for breath and rubbing her chafed arms.

  Ariakas sat up, looking out the corner of his eye for his sword. He saw a flash of red in the darkness, and sensed that one of the shadowpeople had picked it up and whisked it away.

  "My apologies, Warrior Ariakas," said Vallenswade. Surprisingly, he really did sound rather sad. "I know you have given your word, but it would make us feel more secure if we retain custody of your weapon-for the time being, of course."

  Ariakas nodded silently, surprised far more by his captor's politeness than by the loss of his weapon. The shadowpeople had already shown him more courtesy than he would be likely to extend to any prisoner.

  "Why did you attack us?" the warrior asked bluntly.

  Vallenswade blinked those huge yellow eyes. "Well, I didn't really think of it as an attack," he said softly. "After all, we simply immobilized you long enough to accomplish our task. If we had wanted to harm you, we could have done so." He gestured dismissively, and for the first time the human noticed a long, thin membrane of skin hanging from the Shilo-Thahn's wrist, attaching at his waist and ankle.

  "I know," Ariakas admitted. "But why did you snatch my prisoner?"

  "Your prisoner?" Vallenswade seemed puzzled. "But I thought-well, it doesn't matter why he came down here. The important thing is that he was stopped."

  "What does that matter to you?" demanded the war shy;rior, intrigued by the shadowperson's assertion.

  But Vallenswade was not about to elaborate. "Come," he invited, though the invitation was more of a com shy;mand. "I would be honored if the two of you would accompany me through the catacombs."

  Lyrelee looked to Ariakas for a response, and the war shy;rior bowed his head politely. "The pleasure will be ours," he replied.

  The shadowarrior's simian face split into a grotesque baring of teeth, which Ariakas took to be a smile. He was vaguely aware of several other shadowy figures falling into step behind them, and he could see at least four of them-including the one who carried his red-bladed sword-walking in front of Vallenswade.

  "I must compliment you on your ambushes," Ariakas admitted honestly. "You caught us neatly, twice-and that was a thing I would have sworn could not be done."

  Vallenswade flipped his hand in a deprecating gesture. "Do not feel shame-we are at home in the darkness, and know how to use it for our ends. Doubtless, were we on the surface, the advantage would have been yours."

  They walked for a long distance through a winding, natural passage in the rock. Ariakas tried to memorize the route back to the lake, but he soon became lost in the maze of crossing corridors, branching pathways, and ascending and descending ramps. Too, he began to develop the conviction that the shadowpeople followed a very roundabout pathway, designed to throw off their direction sense. They passed an unusual stalagmite, and since the unique markings on its surface seemed familiar to him, he judged that they had come this way at least once before.

  The warrior reflected in silence for a time. He had been a prisoner once, of ogres, and though he had eventually escaped, he had been very roughly treated. Many other times, he and his men had taken prisoners, and their fate, too, had not been pleasant. He found it astonishing that Vallenswade would treat them with such deferential politeness, almost as if they were honored guests.

  What would be their fate? Although he didn't fear immediate execution, he wondered whether the sha shy;dowpeople would ever be inclined to let them go. He suspected not, and he didn't look forward to a life spent in this sunless dungeon-regardless of how friendly and polite his captors were.

  "My. companion," Ariakas asked after this long silence. He didn't want to reaffirm that Tale Splintersteel was more like an enemy. "Is he alive?"

  Vallenswade looked at him reprovingly. "Of course. We are not butchers. Even though he did kick one of my warriors quite ignobly, breaking his knee, we see no point in vengeful retribution."

  "May I see him?" pressed the human warrior. Now the shadowarrior sighed. "That, I'm afraid, will not be so easily arranged. Indeed, I could not allow it. Only the councilors could permit such a thing."

  "Who are the councilors?" asked Ariakas. "Are you taking us to them?"

  "I have been summoned," Vallenswade replied, as if there were no more to the question than that.

  Ariakas flashed a look at the priestess, seeing that Lyrelee remained alert to their surroundings. She stud shy;ied every side passage, every branching corridor, and the warrior could only hope that her memory proved better than his.

  "Do you know that you dwell in the Sanctified Cata shy;combs of a mighty temple?" asked Ariakas, changing the tack of his conversation.

  "We know that some humans think as you say. How shy;ever, we have lived here longer than the temple has stood, and if these corridors are sanctified in the name of your goddess, she has not made the fact known to us."

  Ariakas wanted to threaten or bluster, but he sensed that any declarations of imminent vengeance would fall on deaf ears. Even if the high priest sent a well-armed expedition after them, it seemed unlikely that priests and warriors would be able to follow the path of the shadow-people … unless someone thought to check the wharf, as they had! The thought gave him a flash of renewed hope, until he heard soggy footsteps sloshing in the corridor behind them.

  A soaked shadowarrior approached Vallenswade and spoke t
o him in long, guttural phrases. The chief warrior nodded and turned to Ariakas. "We have taken the pre shy;caution of returning the two boats to the temple wharf. After all, we have no need of them-it was only your … companion, the dwarf, who had difficulty with the water."

  "I see," replied Ariakas, hoping disappointment didn't show on his face.

  "But come," invited Vallenswade. "There is more that I would show you."

  The two prisoners followed the great, shaggy warrior until the Shilo-Thahn stopped and raised his face to the ceiling. His voice rippled through a long, wailing cry-a sound that sent shivers down the warrior's spine.

  Immediately afterward a panel of apparently solid rock in the corridor wall slid silently outward. Following Vallenswade, Ariakas passed through the door, with Lyrelee and their guards following.

  The first sensation to strike the warrior was the moist, verdant fertility of the air, like garden soil freshly turned after a rain. The chamber was huge, swiftly swallowing the feeble emanations of his magical light. Nearby he saw clumps of fungi, gathered artistically around smoothly paved paths. The Shilo-Thahn warrior started along one of these walkways, leading the prisoners into the huge cavern. As they walked, Ariakas was astounded at the lush beds of huge fungi around them. The plants grew in amazing variety, pale and dark, bulbous and gangly. In clusters they sprouted from all parts of the cavern. Many of them towered higher than his head, and these seemed to be the source of the meaty, rich scent in the air.

  Occasionally he saw bright eyes reflecting from the darkness, and he guessed that numerous shadowpeople

  were scattered about this huge cavern. Probably their lair, he decided. He tried to estimate the number of the ape creatures around him, but couldn't come up with a realistic approximation.

  Vallenswade halted. In the illumination of his gem-stone, Ariakas saw that they had reached a large, circular clearing. None of the cavern walls were visible around him, and when he tipped his head back the ceiling was swallowed by the darkness as well. Stone benches formed a pair of concentric rings around the clearing, which was surrounded by a virtual wall of the tall fun shy;gus clumps.

  Several other shadowpeople sat on the benches, and as he cast the light around, Ariakas was able to form a gen shy;eralized impression of these strange creatures. All of them were covered with fur. They seemed to average about seven feet in height, though the lightness to their frames suggested even the large males probably weighed less than Ariakas. Their protruding muzzles and over shy;hanging brows gave them a simian appearance, but the warrior saw many differences in shading, facial features, posture, and mannerism.

  He noticed that all the shadowpeople seemed to have the long, loose membrane connecting their arms and wrists to their legs and hips. The skin was a smooth, supple surface that folded neatly against the creature's side, except when the hand was extended. Then the flap swung loose, an elegant wing draped like the regal robe of an imperial monarch.

  "These are the councilors," Vallenswade said as Aria shy;kas and Lyrelee followed him into the center of the circled benches. The warrior saw perhaps a dozen shadowpeople seated around them. As a rule, these looked slighter, a trifle more frail perhaps, than the warriors who had cap shy;tured them. He saw several with fringes of gray whiskers, and at least one who stooped forward in his seat like a very old man. The seated Shilo-Thahn each regarded Ariakas with intense concentration, but if the dark-furred faces betrayed any hint of emotion, the warrior couldn't tell. Still, he felt an intimidating sense of power in these councilors.

  His reaction was to stand straight, slowly letting his eyes meet those of the gathered audience. At the same time he noted Vallenswade taking a seat on the closest bench, while the other warriors stood at the outside of the circle. Ariakas made careful note of the Shilo-Thahn who held his crimson-bladed sword.

  Why do you bring the dwarf here, Human?

  The question hit him with shocking force. He knew that he hadn't heard anything, yet the interrogative could not have been more clearly enunciated. He frowned at Lyrelee, but she returned his stare with a curious lift to her eyebrows-obviously the message had reached him alone.

  The mute probe into his mind unsettled him more than he wanted to admit, and so he planted his hands on his hips and met the expressionless faces of the coun shy;cilors with what he hoped was his own look of stubborn noncommunication.

  Do you understand the risks?

  Again a question, and this time he took a single step backward, literally knocked off balance by the mental probe.

  "Who interrogates me?" he demanded, glaring around the ring of Shilo-Thahn elders.

  We are the councilors, came the unnecessary reply. We ask again-do you understand the risks?

  "The only risks I've suffered have been at the hands of your warrior," he said, indicating Vallenswade. The Shilo-Thahn grimaced, stung by the inference that he had placed the human in danger.

  "Who are you talking to?" hissed Lyrelee, regarding him as if he had lost his mind.

  He shrugged off the question, indicating the gathered ring of councilors without elaborating.

  You were taking the dwarf and his disease into the treasure chamber. The phrases were heavy with accusation and tinged with confusion. Did you not realize the corruption that could occur?

  "What concern is it of yours?" retorted the warrior.

  It is the concern of everyone, came the response, a trifle mystified in tone. Don't you understand what could hap shy;pen?

  "The treasure that you talk about-it doesn't belong to you, does it?" Ariakas challenged.

  Of course not-how could the eggs 'belong' to anyone except the mighty beings who gave them life? The councilors were completely puzzled now.

  "There are those who claim the eggs-and are pre shy;pared to defend that claim," Ariakas retorted.

  We know-but the eggs were brought to the catacombs with the understanding that they were to be protected. It is too dan shy;gerous to allow the dwarf to go near them.

  "What do you fear?" demanded the human.

  Our people have been to Zhakar. we know the horrors that can result from the spread of the plague. It must not be allowed to touch the eggs.

  "Is that why you attacked us? To abduct the dwarf? How do I know you've even kept him alive?"

  We are not killers-of course he lives. But we have taken him to a place of safety, away from the treasure.

  "Why should I believe you? Produce the Zhakar and then we can talk. Until then, I'll assume that your plans for us involve the same kind of fate as you might have already given to the dwarf!"

  Ariakas fixed the front row of councilors with a bel shy;ligerent glare. He didn't really believe that the shadow-people would kill Tale Splintersteel-he had seen enough of them to decide that they weren't violent or vengeful- but he didn't want his own conclusion to reach them. Could they hear his thoughts as well as speak directly into his mind? He wished he knew. Angrily he tried to direct his thoughts through rambling, unfocused path shy;ways.

  Surprisingly, the shadowpeople seemed a trifle set back by his bluff. The councilors exchanged glances that might have been hesitation or confusion. Abruptly Val-lenswade stood up. He faced Ariakas directly.

  "I have told you that the dwarf lives-now, the coun shy;cilors have told you the same thing. Why do you not believe us?"

  "Where I come from, captors have been known to lie to their captives-and enemies lie to each other as a mat shy;ter of course," he replied bluntly.

  "We are not your enemies!" insisted Vallenswade, his simian muzzle barking out the words with force.

  "Then give me proof!" demanded Ariakas fiercely. "Produce the dwarf! Show me that he lives!"

  Vallenswade slumped back in resignation. The faces of the councilors reflected their confusion, but then the message came.

  Very well. We will bring in the dwarf.

  "Come with me," announced Vallenswade with the first trace of ill manner Ariakas had seen in the Shilo-Thahn warrior. The lanky creature
led Lyrelee and Aria shy;kas to a clump of the tall, mushroom-shaped fungus. The stems of the plants had grown together so thickly that they created a solid wall of tough, spongy tissue. Val shy;lenswade removed a bar that ran through a pair of sup shy;ports on the solid barrier of woodlike plants. Pushing forward, he propelled a large, wedge-shaped plug into the enclosure Ariakas saw within.

  The Shilo-Thahn warrior preceded the two prisoners through the hole, then turned and gestured for Ariakas and Lyrelee. The warriors behind the pair pressed closer, emphasizing the fact-though the one who held Aria-kas's sword maintained a careful distance. With no choice, the two followed Vallenswade into the hole.

  The ring of mushrooms surrounded a small, circular corral, no more than twenty feet across. The top of the wall was at least that high above their heads, however, and the caps of the mushrooms overhung the trunks by a good distance, making climbing out an apparent impos shy;sibility. The only access to the outer cavern came through the thick, wedged gate-plug.

  "You will remain here until we get the dwarf," Val-lenswade explained.

  "Why? How far away is he?" demanded Ariakas.

  The Shilo-Thahn sighed. "He was taken to a different part of the warrens … until we could determine whether or not it was safe to bring him here."

  "Safe? For him-or for you?" pressed the human.

  "I wish you would answer half as many questions as you ask," replied Vallenswade resignedly. "Safe for us, of course. Because of his condition, we took great care so as to not risk introducing a contagion into our colony." With that, the tall creature bent low to exit the lower door, turn shy;ing to pull the gate into its socket behind him. Ariakas heard the bar drop into place on the outer wall, and though he tugged furiously, the thing wouldn't budge. Because of the plug's wedge shape, he knew that pushing on it would only jam it more tightly into its socket.