Slavers of the Savage Catacombs (18 page)
Read Slavers of the Savage Catacombs Online
Authors: Jon F Merz
Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic, #General, #Historical
C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-NINE
Ran awoke to blackness and movement. The thudding pain in the back of his head and lurching motion made him retch. But he managed to keep control over his rolling stomach after the initial shock had worn off. The bouncing motion made his ribs hurt even more, however. They were in another tunnel. Ran’s hands were bound behind him. and his ankles were also well-trussed. But who carried him? And who had knocked him out?
“Where am I?”
“Stay quiet or I’ll slit your throat right now.”
Ran closed his mouth. The voice was vaguely recognizable, but in the harsh whisper, Ran couldn’t be quite sure who had spoken. Still, he suspected it was Iqban. As they continued to travel, the man grew tired, and his breathing became increasingly labored. Finally, he was forced to put Ran down against the wall of the tunnel. “You’re heavier than you appear, especially for one as compact as you are.”
“Muscle is heavy,” said Ran. “And I make sure I don’t grow fat.”
“No doubt,” said the voice, a little louder now. “I should have killed the woman when I had the chance.”
Ran frowned. “Iqban? We thought you would have fled to places unknown by now.”
“And risk running into those things that invaded Zal’s lair? Not a chance. At least, I couldn’t afford to do that when I was alone. But with you as my prisoner, I now have something of value to offer them.”
“Why would they care about me?” asked Ran. “I’m nothing to them.”
Iqban laughed. “There’s more to you than meets the eye. That much is certain. I’ve traveled far and wide and have met many so-called wandering warriors. You are like them in some ways, but there is also something special about you. I watched you pick the lock on the knob. Such skills as that required are far beyond most warriors.”
“My uncle was a thief, the scourge of his family,” said Ran. “But he managed to teach me a few things when I used to visit him. Nothing special about that.”
“Most thieves couldn’t have picked that lock,” said Iqban. “It was commissioned especially for the door to his kingdom, and Zal insisted it be as impervious to compromise as possible. And yet you had it open in under five minutes. It was most impressive.”
“I got lucky,” said Ran. He glanced around the tunnel and wondered how far they could have traveled in the time he’d been unconscious. He heard no other sounds. It was possible that Iqban knew other tunnels and had moved them far away from the main doorway. Kuva and Cassandra were hopefully long gone.
“Luck is for fools,” said Iqban. “In this world, you either make your own luck or else you die working for someone else. No, my friend, you have skills that far exceed what most common warriors are capable of. And there is, I think, some terrific value in that fact.”
“And you think those things—whatever invaded this place—are going to barter my life for yours?”
“Those things are the Mung. A race of underdwellers who are incredibly formidable in the close confines of the tunnels they inhabit. But they also have ambition. Grand ambition. And a desire to rule far more than just the paltry domain they have long existed in. Zal was the first to see the world above as a target worthy of conquering. But his plans for that very thing fell apart, and he was exiled by his people. Zal still dreams of conquest, of course, but he is nothing if he can’t first get back control of the Mung kingdom.”
“I still fail to see how they will grant you life in exchange for me. Why won’t they simply kill you as well? After all, the prospect of being eaten by them back in the main cavern seemed to spook you enough into letting Cassandra go.”
“Fear is a temporary thing bested by the logic of a rational mind, provided it has a chance to think things through. I was startled, yes, but only because I didn’t know what was going on below. I thought it might have been that awful beast Bagyo rampaging.”
“Bagyo is dead. I killed him.”
Iqban smirked in the darkness, but Ran could see the whites of his teeth somewhat. “That is a relief. I hated that creature.”
“It was unfortunate that I had to kill him,” said Ran. “But he left me no choice, so I did it as quickly as possible.”
“And seemingly without much effort,” said Iqban. “Another indicator that you are something special.”
“I’m not,” said Ran. His side ached, and he shifted. “So what happens now? I don’t imagine this is a good place to sit and wait for the Mung to come and find you. What’s your plan?”
“I’m going to cut your legs free and then you’re going to get up and walk. I’m not carrying you any longer. If you try to escape, I’ll be forced to kill you.”
Ran shrugged. “But if I don’t try to escape and you hand me over to the Mung, I’ll be as good as dead anyway. So what do I have to lose?”
“They may not kill you,” said Iqban.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re worth more alive. And if they decide to ransom you, they would stand to make many times your weight in gold.”
Ran laughed in the darkness. “No one would pay for me. I’m worth nothing to anyone.”
Iqban chuckled. “You may as well give up that line of talk. As I said, I have traveled many places. I’m aware of what the Murai warriors of Nehon are like. I’m also aware of another sect of warriors from that island nation. And they are nothing like their Murai counterparts.”
Ran frowned. How could Iqban have known?
“I know there are plenty of lords across the world who would love to have an actual shadow warrior in their possession. You have long been sought by those you steal secrets from. No doubt one of them would pay handsomely for a chance at vengeance.”
“What in the world is a shadow warrior?”
Iqban sniffed. In the dark, there was a flash of steel, and Ran felt his legs freed. “You can stand now and walk on your own. As I said, don’t give me an excuse to kill you.”
“If you did, your chance at bargaining with the Mung would also die.”
“There are other ways to the surface than just through the main door,” said Iqban. “It might take me several days to reach the surface, but I could.”
“And your chances are slim with the Mung prowling about.” Ran got his legs under him and stood up, nearly wincing from the pain in his side. “But I won’t try anything.”
Iqban steered him away from the tunnel wall and then prodded him in the back. Ran grunted as he did so, but Iqban hadn’t noticed that his captive was in pain just yet. “Let’s get a move on. I want to put some space between us and your friends back at the main door.”
“They won’t leave me behind,” said Ran.
Iqban laughed. “Are you so sure? Once that big door is open, the temptation to simply flee will be a powerful one. How well do you know your friends?”
“Well enough to know that in spite of me telling them to leave, they won’t.” Ran glanced around as they walked, but none of the blue torches burned here. Iqban seemed to be steering them along based on memory alone or some other intuitive guide. But where were they headed?
“I should have recognized your abilities far sooner than this. I could have easily extracted more gold from Zal if I had done so.”
“Why would Zal care about what you think I supposedly am?” asked Ran.
“Zal is a fool,” said Iqban. “But he also appreciates a mighty warrior. We’ll see whether or not he survives long enough to care about what I do with you next.”
“I don’t think the Mung will want anything to do with me.”
Iqban chuckled. “You don’t know them very well.”
“And you do? I thought you worked for Zal.”
“I work,” said Iqban, “for whoever pays me the most. My motivations in life are simple and uncomplicated.”
Ran sighed. “I’m sure Zal would be most upset if he heard you say that. What about loyalty?”
“Allow me to give you some valuable advice. Loyalty is overrated. In fact, it’s far too expensive to ever consider buying in the first place. Money, however, keeps a man honest and law-abiding until such time as he can make more elsewhere. It simplifies life. Once you understand that people are motivated by their own greed alone and that any other allegiance is mere illusion, you will know how to make your way in this world far better than those supposed zealots who think their cause is just and honorable.”
Ran shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure what you just spewed there, because all I heard were a few attempts to justify being a two-sided money-grubber.”
“Why stop at two sides?” asked Iqban.
Ran sighed. “Indeed.”
“Zal pays me well, but I’ve always had an eye out for other opportunities. When I learned what Zal was doing, I was the one who contacted the Mung directly.”
“How did you do that? I thought they were sealed below ground?”
Iqban laughed again. “If that were true, then Zal would never have gotten to this place. I knew there had to be another route into the Mung kingdom. It took me some time, but I located it. The Mung were initially hostile, but eventually we reached an understanding.”
“If you’re so friendly with the Mung, then why did you flee earlier when I told you what we’d do if you killed Cassandra?”
“I had to give you an excuse to separate from your friends. I knew about the locking mechanism. I also knew that if my suspicions were correct, you would confirm them and then I’d have you.”
Ran frowned. He’d written Iqban off as a scared fool, but the slaver had outwitted him. And now he had Ran right where he wanted him. Wherever that was.
“So what happens if Zal finds out about your treachery?”
“I’d imagine he wouldn’t be too pleased,” said Iqban. “Unfortunately for him, his hired army is in ruins, and even now the Mung will be closing in on him—if he’s not dead already.”
“And you’re taking me where?”
“To the Mung.”
“Wonderful,” said Ran. Even as he said this, the tunnel started to slope downward at a steep angle. The air grew a lot warmer as well. So much so that sweat began dripping from his face as they walked. “Is it always this hot down here?”
“It will pass,” said Iqban. “The conditions are much more temperate as we go.”
Ran glanced over his shoulder, trying to figure out what direction they could have come from. If there was a chance that Kuva and Cassandra were trying to find him, could he leave any sign behind that he’d come this way?
“Don’t bother,” said Iqban. “We’re in another tunnel altogether. I highly doubt your friends will be able to locate the entrance, let alone follow it to its conclusion. And even if they did, they would be walking right into the heart of the Mung empire. Hardly the sort of thing I’d expect them to embark upon.”
Ran frowned. He’d urged Kuva and Cassandra to flee the catacombs, but a part of him—a big part of him—wished desperately that they were searching for him. His chances of survival seemed to be dwindling by the minute the farther they got away from the main door of the catacombs and closer to the Mung kingdom. How would anyone find him? He could die down here, and no one—not one single member of his clan—would ever know what had happened to him.
The clan would think he had vanished. Or would they? Perhaps they might think he had deserted them. He might even be branded a traitor, and history itself might not look kindly upon his exploits. He was a new operative, but he had managed to defeat Kan-Gul. And even though he’d started this journey by disregarding clan orders, he was back in the very area they had wanted him to journey to.
He realized that his loyalty to the Nine Daggers was still firmly fixed in his heart, even though he longed to be with Cassandra. His clan had given him everything. It would be much harder than he had thought to turn his back on them.
“You’re rather quiet,” said Iqban.
“I’m just thinking about how many ways I could kill you,” said Ran.
Iqban laughed. “You won’t get the chance, I’m afraid. Once I’m rewarded by the Mung for my assistance in helping them initiate their attack on Zal, I’ll sell you to them and take my leave. I’m thinking this part of the world might be a little too violent for my taste for some time to come. Perhaps a journey farther west is advisable.”
“Why would you say that?”
“The Mung aren’t the only people with designs of conquest. There are others far more powerful than the Mung who have long eyed the southern realms with envy and desire. I’ve heard rumors of a massive army to the north of these very mountains that is massing as we speak.”
Ran’s ears perked up. Was it true? “Rumors are just that. You don’t know for certain, though, do you?”
“As a matter of fact,” said Iqban, “I have it from several reliable sources that the army is on the move already. The weather is against them, however. They will need access to the Passage of Harangyo in order to make their way south. At this time of year, the snows and ice may block the passage and keep them from coming. But such delays are only temporary. When the spring thaws come, they will be ready to pour south and decimate any that would oppose them.”
“Who rules this northern army?”
Iqban grunted. “A fair question, and one I do not know the answer to. If I thought they would be amenable to some type of arrangement whereby I sold them slaves, then perhaps I might go north myself and try to establish contact.” He paused. “But from what I’ve heard about them through bits and pieces of information, they do not seem as welcoming as the Mung.”
“Sorry you won’t have a chance to do business with them,” said Ran dryly.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Iqban. “I will be well paid by the Mung, doubly so when I sell you to them.” He paused. “Now turn to the right and head down that tunnel. We are arriving.”
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
The entrance to the Mung kingdom looked nowhere near as grand as the iron door Zal had constructed for his own domain. The entrance was simply a rough-hewn opening manned by a trio of guards. Flickering torches of blue set into braziers nearby cast shadows over the guards and made them look, despite their small stature, more intimidating than they might otherwise appear. They wore bits of mail armor pieced together with leather straps and some sort of coarse tunic fabric underneath. Humanoid in appearance, their eyes were bigger and their mouths were full of teeth that were either naturally pointed or had been ground that way on purpose. Ran figured that they must look a sight when they smiled.
Iqban stopped a few meters short of the entrance when one of the guards challenged them in a guttural language Ran had never heard before. Iqban answered in kind, although it was obvious to Ran that the slaver had only recently learned the appropriate answer phrase, as he still struggled with pronouncing it. Regardless of his clumsy attempt, the guards seemed satisfied and allowed them to pass. As they did so, Ran felt their eyes roving over him and he wondered if they were trying to imagine what he tasted like. He shuddered at the thought, but then quickly pushed it out of his mind.
One of the guards assumed a position in front of Ran and led them down a narrow passageway that Ran and Iqban had to stoop a bit to get through. Farther on it opened up, but not until Ran realized they had just passed through a kill zone put there especially to force invaders into an uncomfortable position. He spotted ledges high above, no doubt there were archers who would be able to pick off invaders with ease as they struggled to get through the cramped confines of the tunnel leading inside.
“There aren’t many of the Mung about right now,” said Iqban. “I’m assuming most of them are helping with the invasion of Zal’s domain.”
“So we’ll be forced to wait?” asked Ran. He felt at the knots that bound his wrists. Iqban had done an admirable job of tying them together, and reaching most of the knots themselves would prove difficult. Certainly he wouldn’t be able to work himself free while Iqban was behind him. But if they got some time to rest somewhere, Ran would be able to work himself free. Even if the knots themselves were out of reach, he had other methods for freeing his limbs and regaining his freedom.
“I don’t know,” answered Iqban. “The king himself may be overseeing the invasion. Or he might have been inclined to let one of his generals lead the assault. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Once the Mung have finished killing Zal’s army, they’ll come back here for a celebratory meal. We’ll have an audience soon thereafter.”
“And what sort of food gets served at this celebratory meal?” Ran still had images in his mind of the Mung devouring the unfortunate souls they had killed.
“About what you’d expect,” said Iqban. “They are, after all, cannibals. I’d consider it a fair expectation that any prisoners they might have taken will be killed over the feasting fires and then served up to the Mung soldiers for their meal. They may also dine on live prisoners. I saw it happen once before.”
“And yet you have no qualms about being here to do business with these creatures.” Ran shook his head. “I can’t believe that you’re that much of a lover of money that you would do business with such a people.”
“Just because they don’t necessarily share my belief system doesn’t mean they don’t have the right to free trade.” Iqban laughed. “I think you’ll find that I am very pragmatic when it comes to the idea of making money.”
“Pragmatic?”
“Surely. I don’t care where my customers come from. I don’t care what they might do in my absence. If their business is good, then we can have a relationship. It’s that simple.”
“It’s rather nauseating,” said Ran. “That a man such as yourself would care so little about the people he does business with. Don’t you have any honor?”
Iqban nudged him in the back, and Ran felt his ribs ache again. “Honor is for fools. And I am no fool. I’m a businessman.”
“Thankfully, the world is not run by businessmen,” said Ran.
Iqban only laughed. “Of course it is. But the common people only see the what we want them to see. We give you your kings and queens and clerics and mages and other bastions of supposed power. But the real authority comes from those who control the flow of money. Without trade and commerce, even the strongest king will fall. Without the exchange of goods, no army can stand. Without the merchants, there is no life at all. We might bow and scrape before the figureheads we’ve installed in power, but we only do that to perpetrate the illusion of power. We control it all. We rule the world.”
“Only until the illusion is shattered.”
Iqban shrugged as they turned down a side tunnel to the left. “I doubt that will ever happen.”
“It will,” said Ran. “And your undoing will be your endless greed. The same greed that has brought you to this very point. If you lose sight of providing a service for others and only fixate on the end result—money—then you will certainly perish.”
“You know little of the real world, Ran from Nehon. While I admire your tenacity and attempts to sway my thinking, they are for naught. Shortly, we will be presented to the Mung king, and then your fate will be sealed. It is out of my hands even now. As soon as we entered the Mung kingdom, your destiny was no longer mine to control. I’ve made my deals already. All that is left now is for the Mung to live up to their end of our bargain.”
“And what if they don’t? What if they double-cross you?”
“It’s always a risk,” said Iqban. “But the Mung are always steadfast in their bargaining.”
“You’d better hope that’s true,” said Ran. “Otherwise you might end up on someone’s dinner plate.”
The Mung guard drew himself to a halt next to a room with an ornate door encrusted with jewels. He paused once, and then knocked. From inside, a guttural bark came in response. The Mung guard opened the door and then gestured that Iqban and Ran should enter. As they did, the guard waited and then closed the door behind them.
Inside the room, oil lamps blazed and illuminated the entire area. Iqban stepped forward and presented himself to the squat Mung seated on a simple carpet of lavish silken fabrics. With his legs crossed in front of him, and bedecked as he was in golden robes, it almost appeared that the little man was levitating. But the expression on his face was severe and anything but welcoming. Even when he saw Iqban, his demeanor did not change. Ran found himself wondering if the Mung had any intention of honoring their agreement. For the moment, he hoped they would, if only to give Ran more time to escape.
The Mung king, thought Ran, if this was even him, looked somewhat confused by Iqban’s appearance. The leader’s eyes rolled over Ran and did not stop. This didn’t surprise Ran at all. He had been trained to be as unremarkable in his appearance as possible. Unlike the dramatic stature of other warriors, Shinobujin were trained to be the type of people you might pass on the street and then forget five seconds later. That was where their real invisibility came from, not some mystical magic.
“Iqban,” said the Mung king.
Iqban lowered himself on one bent knee and bowed his head. “Zaqil.”
“I was not expecting to see you again.”
The Mung king did not appear to have trouble with the Common Tongue, although his speech was slower than Ran had expected. He wondered how a people that lived underground had come to learn it. Was Iqban their first contact with the upper world?
“I had reason to come back, Zaqil,” said Iqban. He turned and gestured to Ran. “I thought you might find some use with this one here.”
Zaqil’s eyes once more roved over Ran, this time stopping and pausing every so often. Ran felt like a piece of food being appraised for its taste. “Why would I have any interest in him, aside from possibly eating him? Is there something special about him?”
“Indeed,” said Iqban. “He is valuable to many of the lords that rule in the upper world. They would pay most handsomely for him.”
Zaqil shrugged. “So you take him then. What purpose would I have in retaining such a man? We have no need for money. We mine the earth’s deepest treasures and feast upon those who covet them. The ransoming of this man would hardly make us any wealthier or more powerful than we already are.”
“This man is what is known as a shadow warrior. He is an expert at infiltration and the gathering of secrets. He is a formidable fighter in combat. I believe you would find him extremely useful even if you did not wish to ransom him.”
Zaqil sighed. “Whose secrets do I need to steal?”
“Those of your enemies. As soon as you begin your conquest of the upper world, you are certain to run into many who would see you dead. A man like this could serve you well.”
“Or a man like this could be served well,” Zaqil laughed. “Frankly, Iqban, he looks far less impressive than you have described him thus far.” Zaqil turned to Ran. “Is what this man says about you true? Are you really one of these shadow warriors?”
Zaqil had no attendants with him. There were no guards, either. Ran found this fact unsettling. But he also figured that if he lied, it might simply make Zaqil more inclined to kill him and serve him up as dinner. Ran glanced at Iqban. The slaver was already dead in Ran’s mind. Zaqil, too, would not live to ever see the upper world or his dreams of conquest.
“I am known as a Shinobujin,” said Ran. “What the outside world calls a shadow warrior.” He took a breath. “I was captured during one of my missions and brought into the catacombs of the one known as Zal for the purposes of slave labor.”
“Zal,” spat Zaqil. “That damned fool. We still have yet to locate him. My forces have combed most of the tunnels and catacombs there and still he eludes us.” He sighed and looked back at Iqban. “So what do you want to do, Iqban, sell me this man?”
“Ideally,” said Iqban. “I also need safe passage back to the upper world. I do have other business to conduct up there.”
Zaqil eyed Ran again. “I will need proof that this man is worth any sort of money at all. I’m not foolish enough to take a slaver’s word, especially one who seems keenly concerned for his own wealth and welfare.”
Iqban bowed low. “I would not be much of a merchant if I was not concerned with my safety first. How else would I be able to serve my loyal customers?”
Zaqil shook his head. “Save your silly talk for those who would believe such things. I am not one of them. If we are to come to a bargain for this man, I will do so only after I see an example of his prowess. You say he is good at fighting? Then let us see that for ourselves.”
Ran frowned. With his ribs injured, his skills in combat would be a notch lower than normal. He placed one hand on his ribs and then winced. The injury was still tender. “I am injured. You may not be as impressed with me as you would be otherwise.”
Zaqil regarded him. “Your ribs are broken?”
“I was thrown against the walls of a tunnel fighting a large creature. Yes, they are broken.”
“I will have my doctors put a plaster on you that will lend some degree of support. And you will be given something for the pain. Otherwise, you will be expected to fight as normal. Do you have a preference for the type of weapons you will use?”
“No weapons,” said Ran. “I will fight the Mung of your choosing, but we will do so unarmed. Is that agreeable to you?”
Zaqil leaned back almost in surprise. “That is most agreeable, actually. I have not seen a contest of unarmed fighting skill in many years. I think it will be wonderful.” He turned to Iqban. “You will stay here until after the bout. If this man wins, then I will pay you for him.” Zaqil clapped his hands, and the door opened instantly. He looked at Ran. “You will be taken to a cell where my doctors will examine you and give you treatment, as well as food. You may also rest there for a short period of time. The contest will commence in half a day.”
Ran nodded. “Very well. Whom will I fight?”
Zaqil smiled. “You will fight me. As leader of the Mung, it is my responsibility. There are others among my troops who are mighty warriors, but as king, I surpass them all. You will meet me in the cavern of combat in twelve hours’ time. Then we will see if Iqban here is telling me the truth about who you are.”
“So, if I win, you buy me from him?”
“Yes,” said Zaqil. “You will serve me unless I decide to sell you to some lord in the upper world.”
“And what happens if I lose?”
Zaqil looked at Iqban and then back at Ran. “Then I will have no choice but to assume you are not who Iqban says you are. In which case, I will have you both trussed and cooked over a roaring fire while we feast upon your flesh.” He smiled at Iqban. “For your sake, he’d better be as good as you claim.”
Ran glanced at Iqban, but the slaver’s face looked white as a sail.
Ran almost smiled.
