The Shrine of the Skull II – Separation

This is part two of an ongoing series. Look here for the beginning of the adventure.

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Lofric peered back down the tunnel into ravening darkness. If the kobolds came back, all that stood between their fangs and his lifeblood was sharp steel and a sturdy shield. And he was all that stood between the monsters and his companions.

Banco sighed. “I think it was a true retreat. They’re gone.”

Lofric grunted but kept his eye on the tunnel.

“Is Comillas dead?” Santiano asked.

Lofric heard feet shuffle. The thief was uneasy.

“I saw him go down,” Banco said. “The floor opened up, and he dropped into it. There were too many kobolds. I couldn’t do anything.”

“You are not a coward,” the dwarf said. “There is no shame in losing a comrade, so long as you fight for him when you are able.”

Banco didn’t answer. Santi might think the sneakthief was ashamed, but Lofric knew these alley rats better than that. Banco was worried they would blame him for the mage’s death and abandon him here. Or kill him. Thieves were always paranoid.

“If he’s dead, he’s dead,” the warrior said. “If not, it’ll do no good getting lost with him. Let’s keep moving.”

He heard snapping and turned to see the dwarf unfolding a collapsible pole. They were less reliable than a solid stave, but it would have to do. The trio moved deeper down the tunnel, towards their gold and glory.

***

An hours’ worth of careful steps brought them to a fork in the passage. The two paths were identical to Lofric’s eyes, but Santiano tapped the floor of each one, cocking an ear to listen for echoes. Could dwarves tell where a tunnel led by tapping? He had never heard that before. Like a bat. “Tunnel-bat” would make a good kenning for a dwarf. He should make some verses with it.

The warrior shook his head. Dumb idea. Bats already lived in tunnels. Bad kenning.

“Stay here,” Santiano said. “I will go up to the left a few paces.”

Lofric grunted. Banco said nothing but turned the open side of the lamp to the leftward tunnel. Beyond the light’s edge, it rose gently into darkness. The dwarf set off.

“You’re a good fighter,” Banco whispered. “Why aren’t you with a company?”

“Don’t like them. Like to wander. Easier to do alone.”

“Fair enough. Pay’s a little hit or miss, though.”

“The hits are good.”

“True.”

Up ahead, the tapping stopped. The shadow that was Santiano spun towards them and ran.

Lofric planted his feet and tightened his grip on his sword. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Banco’s crossbow go up.

Stone scraped on stone, reverberating through the tunnel. The corridor tilted, the far end dropping into a plunging downward slope. The dwarf ran desperately up the incline.

“Santi!” Lofric yelled. Before Santiano could reach them, a panel crashed down and cut them off from one another. Where the left fork had been, there was only a blank wall.

“Ventrasulf!” the fighter swore.

Banco hissed for silence. Lofric held his tongue and cocked his ear. The muffled sound of running feet came to a halt. A hush fell on the tunnel. Then three taps from other side of the slab.

“Santi?” Lofric called. “Can you hear us?”

“Yes,” came the faint reply. “I am sorry, friends. I know this kind of trap. Do not worry. I will meet you at the end.”

“You don’t want us to wait?”

“No. I will have to go out by another way. Probably it will lead to the shrine. Keep going.”

Lofric looked to Banco.

The thief shrugged. “If that’s what he wants, fine by me. I hope he’s right, though. Our odds weren’t much better than a coin’s toss when there were four of us. Two’s a disaster.”

Lofric grunted, then turned back to the new wall.

“Alright, Santi. Good luck.”

“Yes,” the dwarf said. “I will pray for you.”

They waited in silence as Santiano’s footsteps faded and the gentle tapping of the pole was swallowed by the stillness of deep stone.

“We don’t need prayers,” Lofric grumbled, turning to the rightward path. “We need steel.”

Banco chuckled. “That’s blessed steel you wield, isn’t it?”

He looked down at the sneakthief.

“I didn’t take you for religious.”

“A thief can be religious. There are entire religions just for thieves.”

Lofric shrugged. “Then pray, if you like. But move while you do it.”

Banco shook his head. “I’m not leading.”

“But you’re a thief! I’m just a sellsword, I don’t know traps and tunnels.”

“I won’t do it.”

Lofric’s blood began to rise.

“What does your god do to cowards, rat?”

“He’s the god of cowards, sellsword. You can lead, or we can turn back, but either way, I’m not going first.”

Lofric’s lip curled in a snarl, but he shoved the anger back down. It was no use splitting the party further. Like the mage said, there were dangers on both sides, and a second blade was always useful. He needed the thief.

“Fine. I’ll lead. Gold and glory.”

“Gold and glory.”

Like a wolf on the prowl, Lofric loped into the darkness.

     ***

Time passed strangely in the tunnels. Lofric knew the sensation—battle time. Each minute felt like an hour, because each minute could be your last, and would be if you let your guard down, even for a breath.

The blackness seemed to stretch out for miles beneath the earth, but that was an illusion. They were slow and tentative without the dwarf, halting at every noise. Most were just the echo of their own feet, but neither were keen to come upon a kobold in the dark.

At last they came to a long, broad tunnel that ran straight. There were no seams or joints in the stonework, nothing to conceal a pressure plate. When they could see a good way in both directions, they began to relax.

“You know,” Banco said, “I have some ‘friends’ that’d give us two, three times as much as what the abbey is offering.”

“Santi wouldn’t like that.”

“Santi isn’t here. We are.”

Lofric looked down at the sneakthief. There was no shame in the smaller man’s face. “He’s not dead, either.”

Banco shrugged. “All I’m saying is, if I see my chance to move that skull myself, I’ll take it. And if it does come down to me and the dwarf, remember that your cut from my sale is worth far more than those shriveled old priests will ever pay.”

Lofric held his tongue. He liked the dwarf a good bit better than the sneakthief, but there was no point in saying so. He still needed that blade at his side, as well as his lantern.

The tunnel ended in a smooth wall with three identical doorways. Each opened onto a passage running a short distance before turning at a right angle.

“Labyrinth?” Lofric said. He’d heard of others encountering such things in shrines and tombs.

“It means we’re getting close.”

“Which way?”

The thief didn’t answer. He stared at a fourth, much smaller hole in the left-hand wall. There was a slab beside it, which could block the opening perfectly.

Lofric joined him. “Kobold tunnel?”

“That clean? No, it’s a shortcut or a maintenance tunnel.”

“It’s too small for a man.”

“For you, maybe. But if the priests were halflings, it wouldn’t matter. Around here, they probably were.”

Lofric squatted and looked into the hole. The passage was clearly lit by the thief’s lantern but was curved. If it stayed that way, the path would be blind even a few paces ahead. And the lantern would be behind him, with Banco. If they did run into something? There was no room to swing his sword, or to maneuver. It would be all stab and push, or else die.

He stood and shook his head. “I can’t do it.”

The thief gazed at him steadily for a moment, then walked to the three larger doors. He sniffed. Lofric followed suit.

“You smell that?” the thief asked.

“Musky.”

“It’s animal. Something lives down there.”

“So?”

“So, I see one route clearly designed for tomb raiders, probably full of traps and false turns and inhabited by who knows what kind of monster. One that doesn’t need daylight, certainly. And we’ve lost our dwarf. On the other hand, I see a route that has likely been hidden for years, and clearly designed to bypass whatever dangers fill that maze. I know which one I’d rather go down.”

It was Lofric’s turn to be stubborn.

“I’m not going down that rathole.”

“Fair enough… But I am.”

“Ventrasulf!” Lofric swore. This was not how it was supposed to go. They needed to stick together. Otherwise, this place would eat them alive.

“It is what it is, big man. I have a spare torch with me, if you want it.”

Lofric cursed again. He looked back at the side tunnel. There was just no way he could force himself to do it. A flesh and blood foe was one thing. But blind curves and tight spaces? There was no way to make that bleed.

“Keep it. I have my own light.”

Banco’s brows rose at that. “Are you a spellsword, sellsword?”

“Go while I let you,” Lofric snarled.

“Fair enough.”

The thief crouched, shot into the side tunnel, and was gone, leaving the warrior alone in the dark.

Lofric breathed deep through his nose. The air from the three doorways reeked of the unknown beast. What did it live on down here? Kobolds? Adventurers?

Dismissing that thought, Lofric sheathed his sword and pulled out a small hip flask. He pulled the stopper with his teeth and poured an oily substance over the face of his shield. It glowed. It was not so bright as a lamp, but it would have to do. He stowed the flask and drew his sword.

He looked at the three doorways, side by side.

He took the one on the right.

To Be Continued…