Descent into the Depths of the Earth (20 page)

“Yep.”

The Justicar sighed, shook his head, and made a tour of the
alcove. He walked past Private Henry and patted the boy on the shoulder as he
passed. Having been set to thread thin strips ripped from his own cloak through
the bottom layers of rings of his chainmail hauberk, the young soldier looked
anxiously up for approval of his work. Jus knelt down to inspect the results,
shaking the armor to make sure that its noise had been reduced.

“Good job. You did it just right.”

“Th-thank you, sir.” Private Henry seemed pale, but his eyes
were awed as he looked up at the imposing figure of the Justicar. “Is there
anything else I should do? To make my gear better I mean?”

“How do you fight?”

“Um, just with a sword, sir. Kind of…” The boy looked
pale. He had been given a long sword as part of his equipment, and its weight
still felt awkward on his belt. “We haven’t really done much practice with it.”

Huge and solid, the Justicar rested a hand upon the boy’s
shoulder and said, “If we get into a fight, just shoot, go to ground, and leave
the battle to us. If you get caught at sword point, fight defensively and call
for help. We’ll cover you.” The big man stood. “When we get the time, I’ll teach
you how it’s done.”

Jus looked over the gangly boy’s equipment. He sniffed at the
sword belt, a typical botched affair—good for horsemen and useless for everybody
else. Taking up the worn leather, Jus showed the lad how to wear his sword
horizontally through his belt.

“You get a faster draw this way. You might need it.” He
helped the boy to don the heavy equipment, then shared a last drink of beer from
his canteen. “All right. Let’s go.”

Escalla took a careful look out of the alcove, ducked back,
looked one more time, and then fluttered up into the air. Jus strode out into
the corridor, his heavy boots strangely quiet. With his cherished friend at his
side, he moved into the tunnels with Polk and the teenaged soldier traipsing
behind.

Polk automatically reached for his water bottle, discovered
that for once it actually did contain only water, and almost choked. From up
ahead, Jus turned and glared at the little man, silently ordering him to close
the line of march. Shooting seething glances at Escalla, Polk hauled out his
book and wrote awkwardly as he walked. He scribbled down scathing paragraphs on
the subject of teetotalism, tyranny, and the mental benefits of alcohol.

The whole process kept him occupied for at least the next two
long, slow, and silent miles.

* * *

To an eye attuned to the sinister pulse of the underdark, the
tunnels ebbed with life, echoing to the endless drip and flow of time. Water
trickled, creatures squeaked, and deep crevices sometimes carried sounds that
rang with terror.

Hidden amongst rock outcrops and stalagmites, two figures sat
silent in the gloom. They were drow—the ebony skinned, silver haired elves of
the underdark. Each wore a long cloak made to conceal them in the dark. They sat
several paces apart, each facing in the opposite direction—sentries halfway
through a long, tedious watch. With hand crossbows at their sides, the two elves
passed the time. One was chewing on some sort of meat, while the other carved
patterns in a piece of knuckle bone.

Around them, the tunnel echoed, time dragged by, and water
dripped like blood seeping from a dying world. Into this tedious quiet came a
shockingly familiar sound. A coin fell tinkling upon stone. It echoed from the
southern tunnel, ringing faint but clear.

The southern-most sentry jerked his head up, covering the
passageway with his crossbow as he scanned the darkness. The weapon’s sharp bolt
gleamed sickly black with poison.

Heat images swam in the eerie shadows of the tunnel. The wall
mold glowed sometimes hot, sometimes cool, but amongst the smallest of small
shapes upon the floor, a figure appeared—a little creature moving fearlessly
down the corridor.

A coin rang yet again, and now both guards craned forward to
look, the northern guard standing up to peer past his partner.

A rat—a very large, well muscled rat—was scuttling along the
edge of the southern tunnel. Thirty yards away in the gloom, even drow eyes
could scarcely pick out the slightest detail. The rat moved away and disappeared
into the dark. Moments later the sound of busy digging came, a sound very faint
against the tunnel noises. Soon the rat returned, seeming extremely pleased with
itself. Gold glittered briefly in the tunnel. The rat dropped a coin that it had
held in its mouth, making a pile with other flecks of gold in the corridor, then
pranced off to continue with its digging far away.

The watching sentries leaned forward, staring in amazement.
The gold was real. The drow looked behind them at the entrances to the guard
rooms in the tunnels behind them, wary to see if they had been missed. There was
no point in sharing treasure with too many other grasping hands.

Gold clinked again. The rat could be heard digging, and
flecks of dirt and bat dung scattered out onto the floor.

The two drow raised their hand crossbows, the bolts
glistening with venom. With short swords in their other hands, they advanced
side by side up the passageway. They glared at one another with no love lost,
then stalked forward, walking over the rat’s little pile of coin. Both moved
faster and faster in pursuit of the busy rat. They passed outcrops of rock,
passed loose soil and gravel left over from a crumbled wall, and watched the rat
as it flitted toward its treasure horde.

The elves saw the rat stop to dig at a half-buried skeleton.
They gave a grin, hefted their crossbows, and strode toward the rat. Behind
them, buried underneath the gravel, a pair of red eyes suddenly gleamed.

There was the softest whisper of sliding gravel, then the two
sentries seemed to fall apart. One heartbeat they were half-turning as movement
flickered in the dark behind them. The next instant, one elf’s body stood
without its head, and the other jerked as the Justicar’s sword blurred down
through his skull and into the torso below. Without even watching his victims
fall, the Justicar swept his blade free, flicked it clean, and sheathed it all
in one smooth curve. The two dead drow fell to the tunnel floor, their blood
pooling into a gruesome mud on the floor.

Jus shook himself free of dirt and gravel. From far down the
tunnel, Polk and Private Henry peered out of hiding, looking pale.

The rat came out into the middle of the corridor and waved
them closer, turning to look up and whisper to Jus, “Think they heard?”

Jus shook his head, then knelt to drag the twitching corpses
out of sight.

The big rat shimmered, changing from its furry form and into
a very naked Escalla. Her clothes had been stuffed out of sight in a rock
crevice. She dragged on her leggings, then wriggled her bottom into her
undergarments. At the sound of a little noise behind her, she looked archly
across one shoulder to see the shocked eyes of Private Henry.

Already pale, Private Henry hurriedly turned to face the
wall. Escalla gave a wry smile and began pulling on her long gloves.

“Whassamatter, kid? Never see a girl before?”

“Yes.” The teenager looked a tad unsteady on his feet. “Well,
sort of, but you’re a
lady!”

Escalla paused, brightened, and instantly radiated a glorious
goodwill to all creation. She jerked on her dress and fluttered up to kiss the
boy upon the cheek. “Now
you’re
a gem! Where have you been all my life?”

The boy came forward with Escalla, his crossbow at the ready,
but the two drow were most deeply and sincerely dead. The Justicar, spattered
here and there with dark blood, had relieved them of small pots of venom
sheathed beside their crossbow bolts. He tossed these to the young soldier.
Henry stared aghast at the corpses.

Escalla looked at him, and for once without any laughter in
her eyes.

“They’re drow. Don’t waste time feeling bad for them. These
bastards are worse than orcs.” She jerked one of the drow’s clothing aside.
“Check it out. Their boots are made from human skin.” Escalla let the clothing
drop. “They skin girls to make the softest boots. The longer the victim stays
alive and screams, the better the boots are supposed to be.”

Henry took a tighter grip upon his crossbow and choked, “My
gods.”

“Kill them. Kill them any way you have to.” The faerie nodded
her chin at the Justicar’s back and gave a grim smile. “It’s a bad day to be a
drow. Justice is coming.”

After hiding the bodies in the gravel scrape and covering the
blood with dirt and gravel, the Justicar turned to watch the dangerous spaces
down the tunnel. Just past where the two sentries had sat their watch, two
caverns opened out from the main tunnel, each most certainly housing more
guards. The party intended to move down the corridor to creep silently past the
two caves on either side of the passageway. The destruction of the entire drow
nation, although desirable, was
not
their current mission.

Escalla patted gravel in place over the corpses, started
after Jus, then stopped, reversed, and hovered directly above Private Henry, her
newest admirer.

“Hey, kid! Here!” The girl sprinkled powder across Private
Henry, her eyes closed as she spoke a powerful charm. He jumped as he felt his
skin ripple with strange force, and an eerie glow seemed to soak into his skin.
Escalla breathed out a sigh, then dusted off her hands. “There you go, kid.
Stoneskin. Keep you safe.” The girl rapped knuckles on her own skin. “Best
insurance policy in the world!”

“B-but what about the Justicar?”

“He’ll get one tomorrow! You’re a bit spongier than he is!”
The girl put her finger to her lips. “Now creep along quietly, and we’ll sneak
past the guard rooms.”

The Justicar stole slowly and carefully forward, his sword
held ready. He walked with cat-footed care, his boots touching at the heel, then
the outer sides, then planting flat and sure. Escalla kept behind and to one
side, her battle wand ready.

Jus reached the cave opening on the left, lay flat against
the stone, and let Cinders’ ears and nose search the air inside. He then
carefully crossed the passage to the cave on the right. Cinders slowly waved his
tail and sampled the damp, dull breeze.

Drow here.
The hell hound’s voice echoed softly in the
minds of Jus, Escalla, Polk—and also now to the startled Private Henry.
Maybe
ten left, ten right. Bad girlie girls on right.
The hell hound grinned.
Cinders bum!

Jus held up a hand to halt the hell hound’s antics. The big
man lifted up his hand, and a spell spread slowly out around him. A sphere of
total silence radiated from the man, and he walked back to fold his companions
in the spell.

There were two caves—one with three small entrances on the
left, and one with a wider, more opulent single entrance on the right. The five
companions moved together down the corridor, hugging one wall. Jus brought them
swiftly, ushering Polk and Private Henry past and taking the last position as he
covered the nearest cave mouth with his sword.

They were past the dangerous cavern mouths and already
heading for safety, when suddenly a male drow carrying a basket of food came out
into the main tunnel. He saw the Justicar only a few paces away, stared, and
opened his mouth to scream.

No sound came. The spell made the drow blink, then he turned
to run into the cave. Jus moved, but then something flashed past his flank. The
drow jerked, spun, then smashed against the cave wall with a crossbow bolt
protruding from his heart. Private Henry stared, his empty crossbow still held
on target, amazed at himself, then could only watch as the perfectly matched
team of Jus and Escalla sped into activity.

A second drow appeared, looking back over his shoulder and
talking to someone behind him in the cave. His voice cut out in his own ears,
and then his entire body fell severed diagonally through the waist as the
Justicar’s black blade sheared him in two. The drow fell, his hand spasming to
fire his crossbow. The bolt sped into his home cave, struck sparks from the
stone, and suddenly black figures surged upright in the gloom.

Behind Jus, Escalla shot toward the other cave. With the air
of a master craftsman at work, Escalla fired her wand. A silent blast of frost
solidified into an ice wall that sealed the opening to the cave. Escalla left
only one small hole high up in one corner of the ice. As vaguely seen figures on
the far side of the barrier began to appear, Escalla whistled happily, licked
her index finger, and fired an ice storm through the little hole.

Violence broke out inside the sealed room, with figures
jerking back and forth as shards tore into their flesh. With Jus now at the far
side of the passage, Escalla had left the protection of the silence spell. As
muffled screams of pain came from the cave, Private Henry stared at Escalla,
utterly aghast.