The Survivors (36 page)

Bradok did as he was told, peeling Much’s shirt away from the bloody stump and packing the wound with rags. He wound a long strip around the wound and up the arm, keeping it tight. Last, Bradok tied the remaining strips of cloth into a sling. All the while, Much grimaced and quietly groaned with pain.

Thurl’s wound was also serious. The Disir had made a deep slash in his calf muscle, and Tal had to stitch it up before he wrapped it.

“He’ll be all right to walk a little,” Tal explained. “Though it’d be better if he had a walking stick or cane.”

Corin picked up Bradok’s sword and used it to chop one of the Disir’s swordlike arms free. He cut a piece off the bottom of his cloak and tied it around the severed end to serve as a pad.

“How’s this?” he asked, carefully passing the makeshift cane to Thurl.

“Practical,” the ex-assassin said as Tal helped him to his feet. He gripped the wrapped top of the cane and stabbed the point against the ground, testing his weight. He took a step then whipped the cane over his head. “Very practical.”

“We ought to get going,” Chisul said. “They’re going to send someone back to check on these guys sooner or later.”

“All right, but let’s push their bodies into the water,” Bradok said. “Maybe they won’t find the bodies right away and that’ll buy us some extra time.”

As Corin, Chisul, and Kellik shoved the pieces of the dead Disir into the pool, Bradok realized the black ichor that made up the Disir’s blood was all over the floor of the cavern. There was no way to hide that, but Bradok hoped the absence of bodies would confuse any returning Disir. They couldn’t see the blood, of course, but no doubt they could smell it.

“All right,” he told everyone once the bodies were gone. “Let’s go. We need to move as fast as possible, but don’t push it.” That last was directed at Thurl.

At a brisk walk, they followed after the main group, leaving the lit cavern and passing into a dark passageway that angled slightly upward. Bradok told them about Rose and the chalk, which sent Corin scrambling back down the path. The Daergar returned with a glowing mushroom. “It’ll be hard to see the chalk marks in the dark,” he said with a grin, holding up the light.

Bradok hadn’t thought of that. Their darkvision worked well enough, but dwarves saw things in the dark mainly in a fuzzy black-and-white. A chalk mark would elude them.

They pressed on, following Rose’s occasional marks. There seemed to be many more side passages than before, and Bradok was glad she had Reorx’s compass showing her the way.

“I think we should pick up our pace,” said Thurl. “I hear noises behind us.”

Everyone stopped, each straining to hear. There, so faint as to be on the edge of hearing, they could hear echoes of the clicking and chirping language of the Disir.

“There’s no way we can outrun them,” Chisul said.

“They don’t know which passage we took,” Corin said. “They’ll have to send scouts down all of them. That’ll delay them.”

“Leave me behind,” Thurl volunteered. “I’ll go down one of the other side passages. Once they find me, they’ll think I’m just a straggler from the main group. I’ll fight them, and no matter what happens to me, they’ll follow the wrong path a while.”

“No one’s leaving anyone,” Bradok said, suddenly remembering that wasn’t true; they had left Serl, his body wrapped in his cloak, still lying behind the waterfall.

“We can carry you, Thurl,” Kellik said, motioning for Chisul to join him. Each of them grabbed one of Thurl’s legs and carefully lifted him into a sitting position. Thurl put his arm around each of them, linking them together as one.

“You up for this, old man?” Chisul asked Kellik.

“No barrelmaker’s son will best a blacksmith, you young puppy,” Kellik replied good-humoredly.

They started up the passage at a quick walk, sharing Thurl’s weight.

Bradok, Corin, Tal, and Much followed.

“Will they ever stop following us?” Tal wondered.

“No,” Corin said. “We have to keep going. If we stop, we die.”

A
glowing light up ahead indicated the main group. At last Bradok and his bloodied warriors had caught up. Twenty minutes later, they could see Jeni and Omer bringing up the rear.

Bradok could hear Chisul and Kellik coming behind him with Thurl. They were panting, but neither dwarf would admit their exhaustion. Behind them came Much, cradling his maimed arm and leaning on Tal. Corin was walking a ways behind and listening for any sign of Disir pursuit.

Corin had lost track of the Disir about an hour past, but he still strained to hear something, anything. The caves in that part of the world were made of sandstone, and sound didn’t carry as it did with granite or some other hard stone. Bradok had to keep urging Corin to keep up, for the Daergar kept dropping back to “take a better listen.”

By the time they reached Jeni and Omer, Corin was nowhere to be seen.

“He’ll be along,” Much said, noting Bradok’s distress. “He’s not stupid.”

“I can walk from here, gentlemen,” Thurl said as his bearers came up to where Bradok stood, breathing heavily.

Neither dwarf spoke; they simply set Thurl down gently
and collapsed against the walls of the narrow passage.

“No rest,” Bradok said, handing Kellik his waterskin. “Take a drink; get your strength back. We have to get going again as soon as possible. You know we can’t stop.”

Both dwarves shot Bradok a dirty look, but they drank and pushed themselves to their feet, trudging after the limping form of Thurl.

“Corin’ll catch up,” Much said, pulling at Bradok’s cloak with his remaining good hand. “Come on, Rose needs you up front.”

Reluctantly Bradok nodded. He dropped the still-glowing Reorx’s torch mushroom on the path for Corin as he turned and hurried up through the midst of the marching dwarves as fast as his wounds would allow. He ached everywhere and felt as though he hadn’t slept in weeks.

The other survivors also looked exhausted. They were at the end of their strength and their hope. Bradok passed Perin and gave the human a nod. Though he, too, was bone weary, Perin seemed to be breathing better.

“Tal,” he said, tapping the doctor on the shoulder.

The doctor grunted something.

“Go walk with Perin,” Bradok said. “It looks like he’s breathing all right, but I wouldn’t mind your professional opinion.”

Tal grunted something else that might have been a curse aimed at Bradok, but he dropped back to walk with Perin.

A sudden draft of air roused Bradok’s attention. Up ahead, the tunnel opened into another cavern. Instead of halting to let a few men check it out, Rose had led the whole group right into the cavern.

“We’d better get up there,” Much said, noticing Bradok’s sudden concern.

They pushed their way through the group up to the front. The cavern was as tall as the one with the opening to the sky, but it was longer and wider by far. A sandy island of earth
ran out from the entrance to their tunnel like a bubble, vanishing into the biggest chasm Bradok had ever seen. Reorx’s torch mushrooms by the hundreds grew along the left wall, illuminating a small ledge that ran to several tunnel openings and eventually to the spot of bare floor where Bradok and his friends stood.

Much whistled, walking close to the edge and looking down into inky blackness below.

A cool breeze blew up from the depths, bearing with it the smell of rock tinged with the stink of decay. The smell reminded Bradok, uncomfortably, of the Zhome. He pushed his way to where Rose stood and looked down at the compass in her hand.

“Which way?” he asked. “We can’t stop yet.”

Rose gazed toward the edge of the jutting ledge. Not believing her, Bradok looked into the compass and found the Seer pointing in the direction Rose was looking.

“That’s impossible,” he said. “There’s nowhere for us to—”

But there was somewhere. Nearly hidden in the darkness, a long, narrow pathway of rock jutted out from the edge, like the prow of some rocky ship. Bradok couldn’t see all the way to its end, but he knew it connected to the far side of the chasm, otherwise the compass wouldn’t be directing them there.

“There’s no way we can get Lyra across that narrow space,” Rose said nervously. “It couldn’t be more than a yard wide.”

“We’ll have two men carry her,” Bradok said with a confidence he did not feel. He took a step forward, but Rose caught his shirt.

“Where are you going?” she demanded.

“Someone’s got to try going over to the other side and make sure it’s safe,” he said.

Rose shook her head. “Not you,” she said. “One way or another we’re going to have to convince everyone to cross.
Nobody in their right mind is going to want to try if you slip over and die.”

“I’ll go,” Much said, taking Rose’s lantern. “I’m a much lighter fellow anyway,” he said, winking at Bradok and displaying his bandaged arm stump. “Especially now. Once I’m across, I’ll plant the lantern at the other end so you can see better.”

He took the lantern and started out, making his way carefully across the bridge of stone. Bradok watched with an equal measure of wonder at his friend’s bravery and fear for his fate. One misstep, and Much would plunge into the unknown depths. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Much turned around and waved the lantern over his head.

“He’s across,” Rose said in a gasp. Clearly she’d been holding her breath too.

“All right,” Bradok said. “You get everyone moving across while I make arrangements for Lyra.”

Rose raised her voice and gave instructions to the group while Bradok made his way to where Lyra and her new baby were situated. It suddenly occurred to Bradok that he didn’t know if Jade, Lyra’s daughter, had a brother or a sister.

“Thank you,” Lyra said when Bradok knelt beside her.

“I didn’t do anything,” he said, blushing slightly.

She pulled open her cloak and revealed the sleeping baby, which was almost red in color with a mass of dark, curly hair on top of its head.

“You kept us alive,” Lyra said, beaming. “You made sure we were safe.” She turned back to the sleeping infant. “I’m going to call him Bradok.”

Bradok was stunned. So it was a boy and named after him. He didn’t know what to say, only that he didn’t deserve so much praise.

“Bradok!”

Kellik’s cry was heard above the crowd. Bradok stood and spotted the big smith on the far side of the group by the chasm, pointing at the left wall. With a bad feeling in his gut, Bradok
saw that the empty tunnels that led to the narrow ledge were no longer empty. A dozen Disir had emerged there and were making their way gingerly along the ledge toward the spot where Kellik stood.

Bradok looked down at Lyra then at Xurces and Vulnar, who had been part of the group carrying her stretcher.

“Pick her up and get across that bridge,” he said. “Now!”

They looked momentarily skeptical until Bradok barked, “Now! Do your best!”

The two dwarves sprang into action, lifting the stretcher and pushing through the crowd toward the narrow walkway. Thurl, Perin, and Tal joined Bradok as he approached Kellik.

“That ledge is pretty narrow over there,” Kellik said, pointing to a spot nearby. “If we bunch up here, they’ll only be able to come at us one at a time. Our chances will improve.”

“Their reach is twice ours,” Thurl said, holding up his short sword. “We need longer weapons to keep them at bay and maybe knock them off the ledge.”

“There go our only poles,” Bradok said, pointing to where Xurces and Vulnar were carrying the stretcher. Even moving slowly, the two were halfway across the bridge with their burden.

“Use your hammer,” Tal said to Kellik. “Maybe you can break away a piece of the ledge, make it even more narrow for them.”

“That’s a good—”

“Bradok!”

Bradok turned to see Corin come racing out of the tunnel. “There you are!” he said with some relief.

“Here I am, but they’re right behind me,” he gasped.

Bradok swore. “Fall back,” he said. “We have to buy some time to give the others a chance to get across the bridge.”

Rose was hurrying the dwarves on the near side of the bridge, but there were still a dozen or so who hadn’t crossed.
Just as Bradok and his men pulled back to protect them, Disir came pouring out of the tunnel.

Omer screamed and jumped away, but Jeni pulled him back toward the bridge. Rose shouted for everyone to speed up, and Bradok swore in frustration and pain as he jerked his sword from its scabbard.

At that moment, Bradok knew he would die. There were at least thirty Disir bearing down on them. His handful of tradesmen and merchants and one trained assassin stood beside him, as resolute and unmoving as any professional troop of soldiers.

But they weren’t soldiers.

They had no armor, no training, and only scanty weapons at hand. The Disir were relentless killing machines. It would be a slaughter.

The worst part, Bradok thought, is that there won’t be anyone left to make a song of it. In his heart, he knew the hardy band of survivors deserved a song.

The Disir seemed to hesitate a moment as their sightless eyes swept the group, the blue organs in their heads pulsating. One of them lashed out suddenly, slamming its blade-arm into the ground.