Voyage of the Fox Rider (89 page)

At last Farrix’s fingers dipped into the illusory stone. He backed away and his shadow disappeared and he nodded at her. Cautiously, silently, together they explored the dimensions of the window, trying to find the sill, for it was critical that they know where it lay. Sliding her hand down the side, she could not find the threshold; it was somewhere below where she stood.

Jinnarin looked down the rough face of the cliff, seeking a shelf beneath, one she could climb down to…but the only ledge below was clearly too far down.

Jinnarin signalled
[Wait]
, and she lay upon the narrow ledge, and using her bow as an extension of her arm, she quietly slid the tip along the edge of the window slot and reached down as far as she could, trying to find the sill…to no avail. But Farrix, somewhat lower and using the same method, found the brink at the full extent of the reach of his bow. Now they knew exactly where the threshold was.

Standing again, she strung an arrow to her bow and moved to the window end of the ledge, readying for her leap. With her heart wildly thudding, she glanced over at Farrix. He, too, was in position, his own bow ready, and he nodded to her and then gathered shadow, as did she.

Silently, the gloom of Farrix sprang from the ledge and disappeared through the stone.
One, two
, Jinnarin counted, and then followed, springing through the illusion to the opposite side. She landed on the sill, the dark cluster of Farrix front and to her left. Before her in the torchlit lookout chamber, a kneeling Ruch clutched at his throat, while a second kneeling Ruch was just beginning to turn toward the slot. Jinnarin aimed and loosed, her wee arrow hissing across to strike the turning Ruch in the side of the neck. He spun on about and his gaze widened and he opened his mouth to shout, while at the same time he clutched desperately for the bugle draped by a thong ‘round his shoulder—but his eyes glazed over and he toppled sideways to the stone floor, his comrade collapsing as well.

Silently, the Pysks slipped the yarn from ‘round their own waists, and while Farrix stood ward, Jinnarin, with a dab of spirit gum, fixed one end of her yellow floss to the corner of the sill and cast the free end out the window. She moved to the opposite corner and did the same with Farrix’s yarn. Now the window ledge was marked to outside eyes. And in but moments, Anthera came through the illusion and slipped her hand from the cord loop. Quickly she was followed by Bivin, and together they leapt down from the sill and sped into the narrow passage leading into the holt.

Reena followed and then Galex, and they, too, moved swiftly down the corridor.

Kylena, Rimi, Fia, Dwnic, Lurali, and Temen came after, but stayed within the lookout post, fanning out to take up positions to either side of the passageway entry.

When all were in, Jinnarin and Farrix leapt down from the sill, and Aravan wriggled through the narrow slot, then pulled in his crossbow and quarrels tied to the end of the rope, then he gave the line a tug.

Outside, Tink pointed his lantern up toward Tivir above and momentarily cracked the hood, signalling him that the Pysks and Aravan were safely within the lookout chamber.

With a brief flash of return light, Tivir acknowledged the signal, then turned and sent a signal westward. A half mile away, Jamie flashed Tivir a recognition, then turned and signalled the boats below.

And the warband set sail for the illusion-covered entrance to the understone lagoon.

Jamie and Slane then sent a flash of light to Tiver, and he in turn to Tink, and moments later Tink slithered into the chamber and nodded to Aravan. And the Elf and the lad dragged the dead Rucha to the side of the chamber.

And they waited.

Time passed.

Finally Tivir came wriggling in through the window, for Jamie and Slane now stood watch above.

And again they waited as time limped past.

Finally Aravan sissed and pointed; by moonlight the warband sailed the waters below, eight dinghies in all—forty Dwarves and sixteen Men.

Turning from the slot, Aravan silently gestured to the others, and into the narrow passage they went.

Standing on the rim at the circle of stones, Jamie flashed a signal down to the boats, then slightly cracked the hood, dim illumination leaking out.

In the lead, “Down sail and unship oars,” whispered Bokar, and Châkka warriors moved quietly to obey, the boats behind following in kind.

Guiding on Jamie’s light, toward the cliffs they rowed, for somewhere in the shadows beneath his dim beacon stood an illusion.

Quietly they rowed, listening for the hollow echo of the surf which marked where they would find the undertone lagoon, seeking to see where the waves rolled through seemingly solid rock. At last they found it, and through the glamour and into the channel they slipped, one after the other.

Once past the illusion they could see the dim glimmer of torchlight afar. And as waves swashed against the distant walls, down the strait and into the cove they fared, dipping their oars carefully even though the murmur of waves and boom of surge filled the vast hollow with a tumult of sound.

Now by the torches burning in their cressets at the far side of the stone dock, they could see the whole of the lagoon…and moored at the quay rode the black galley, a hundred dark feet in length, her oars shipped in, her mainmast stepped down, her shorter foremast yet mounted, the lateen sail unfurled.

Nodding in silence, Bokar gestured toward the steps at the end of the landing, and toward these they rowed. Quietly, they came to the stairs, and Bokar along with six others crept up and to the black galley, and they slipped over the side.

Moving in stillness, they searched the ship, and below deck they found a single sleeping Ukh and silently they slew him. They then returned to the deck, where Bokar signalled to the remaining boats. While the armsmaster and his squad brought galley oars topside and laid them on deck alongside the larboard rail, swiftly the remaining boats landed, one after another, and Châkka debarked and came up to the black ship,
carrying the ballistas and crates of lances, lading all aboard. As they did this, the sailors behind rowed the emptied dinghies away from the quay and into concealment on the lagoon side of the galley, where they cast lines upward to be tied to the craft, and the sailors then clambered aboard, Jatu the first one over the rail.

But as the last ballista was laded, there sounded the loud, raucous blatting of a
Squam
horn, filling the cavern with its harsh blare. Bokar whirled about, trying to spot the Grg blowing it, sounding the alarm. Again it blatted, again and again. Of a sudden, Arka raised his crossbow and—
Thnn!
—let fly with a quarrel, and with a skrawk, the bugle ceased, the Ukh plummeting from the foremast crow’s nest to smash down on the deck.

And from the corridor leading into the caverns beyond the quay, there came the blattish answerings of an Ukkish horn within.

As the boats of the warband sailed past in the waters below the window slot, Aravan, Tink, Tivir, and eight Pysks slipped down the narrow passageway toward the main corridor of the understone holt. Some hundred feet from this central passage they came upon Reena and Galex, two clusters of shadows hiding in folds of stone along the passage. They had been stationed here to bring down any Rucha or Loka who might have gone toward the lookout post, and who might have managed to escape Aravan’s party waiting there and come fleeing back down the way. And somewhere ahead were Anthera and Bivin to stop any who might get past these two.

As Aravan and party came to Reena and Galex, these two made themselves known, and here Aravan stopped.

And they waited for Bokar’s signal that all was ready.

Time eked by.

How long they stood in the dark cleft, Jinnarin did not know, but of a sudden she heard the distant raucous sound of a
Rûptish
horn.

“Vash!” hissed Aravan. “We are discovered! Quick,
Tivir, Tink, now may be the time of our contingency. Remember, if it comes to it, ye must run fleetly!”

Toward the main corridor they moved, coming to the place where Anthera and Bivin waited. And as they reached them, with a squawk the horn was silenced.

Moments passed, and then they heard the sound of another
Spaunen
horn, this one from the interior caverns. Peering up the hall, they could see torchlight emerging from the Trolls’ quarters, and then they heard a ponderous treading. Trolls emerged, monstrous creatures, twelve feet tall, broad and brutish. And they filled the wide corridor and looked up the passage away from the quay, up to where the trump blared.

“Well, Cap’n,” said Tivir, “looks loike we’re on. Tink, y’ ready naow?”

Tink swallowed and nodded and leaned his crossbow against the wall next to Tivir’s. Then he glanced down at Jinnarin and she smiled at him, but her eyes were filled with fright. Tink flashed her a fleeting grin, then looked up at Tivir. “Let’s get to it, boyo.”

With a nod to the captain, the cabin boys stepped from the narrow cleft and into the main corridor. They silently ran a few steps down the passageway. Then, throwing the shutters of their Dwarven lanterns wide, “Hoy!” Tivir shouted. “Y’ big lummoxes! Here we be, y’ stupid gobs!”

“Yah, y’ bloody arses!” shouted Tink. “Catch me if y’ can!”

Trolls turned, their eyes flying wide at the sight of the lads.

RRRRAAAWWWW! bellowed a Troll, roars of the others thundering after, rage echoing down the stone corridor. And then the monstrous Spawn lunged toward the two. Tivir and Tink turned on their heels and raced toward the quay, Trolls plunging after, gaining with every stride.

“Brekka! Dett! Cut the lines!” barked Bokar. “All others, grab oars! Shove off! We may save this mission yet!”

With axes, the lines were severed. And using the
ship’s oars, sailors and warriors shoved against the stone quay. But the ship was massive and moving thwartwise in the water. Sluggishly it responded as straining Châkka and Men pressed mightily to push the galley sideways away from the dock.

And all the while deep within the caverns there sounded the blatting alarm of a horn.

Slowly the ship drifted free, moving out from the landing.

And now they could hear the ringing of shouts, and a vast roar, followed by more shouting and the hammer of running footsteps, and the massive thud of lumbering feet.

Of a sudden, Tink came running, Tivir at his side, huge Trolls roaring and thundering in pursuit, more Trolls plunging after. And Tink ran straight while Tivir veered to the left, a Troll chasing each, the monsters reaching out to grasp the lads. But both boys made running dives, knifing into the black waters of the lagoon. The Troll chasing Tivir bawled in fright and tried to stop, but could not, and he skidded off the stone quay to fall into the brine and plummet from sight in the dark sea. But the Troll chasing Tink made a prodigious leap over the open water between the quay and the black galley and crashed into the side, and with a desperate grab he managed to clutch the top wale of the ship, the craft listing with his weight. And leering at the Dwarves, the monster clambered aboard as Dwarven axes and Jatu’s warbar bounced off his stonelike, green-scaled hide.