The Starfall Knight (18 page)

“All right.”  Tayu slapped him on the pauldrons.  “Be careful, Dev.”

“Naturally.”

Metallic echoes resounded through the chamber.

“What was that?” Brunos said.  “Alessa, see what it was.”

Alessa nodded.  She drew her sword and doubled back through the tunnel.  The sounds of Brunos, Elius and Malo destroying the pipes soon faded.

The broadsword weighed heavily in her hands.  She would need both to wield the weapon – assuming that she could replicate everything that she had read and practised in the past.  The tunnel exit loomed ahead and Alessa raised her sword to a guard position, stepping without dragging her feet on the dirt.

Shadowed slats flickered on the rock walls.  Alessa advanced, a cold knot of fear blossoming in her stomach.  She reached the portal and shook the metal grate.  Locked shut.

Alessa suppressed a cry for help.  A true sentry wouldn’t be trapped inside.  She shook the grate again – the lock hadn’t been engaged.  Alessa reached between the bars and scrabbled on the outside.  Her fingers scraped against a staff that had been jammed through the unused bolt holes.

The dead soldiers still lay in wide pools of blood but as Alessa’s eyes readjusted from the tunnels filled with andonite, the shapes of boot-prints became apparent.  None of her group had stood in those positions or disturbed the blood.

Alessa sprinted back to the chamber.

“They know we’re here.”

“They should by now,” Elius said with a laugh.  He kicked the flowery machine, eliciting a squeal of metal.

“No,” Alessa said.  “They’ve blocked the grate.  They’ve trapped us in here.”

“Already?”  Brunos lowered his sword.  Elius and Malo paused in mid-swing.

“It’s locked.  There are boot prints in the blood.  None of us stepped in it, I’m sure.”

“No, we didn’t,” Brunos said.  Elius and Malo echoed his words.

“We have to leave,” Alessa said.  “Now!”

Malo nodded.  “She’s right, Brunos.  No one said about anything about being trapped underground or nothin’.”

“Calm down, lad,” Elius said.  “Brunos?”

“We’ve wrecked these pipes well and good.  So, which way?”

Alessa pointed to a tunnel that probably led upwards.  “This way.”

Devan crept past a cart laden with shattered rocks.  Silence oozed through the mines now that the workers had been evacuated.  Nothing stirred in the air of the cavern apart from the dust of disturbed earth and the undertone of oiled machinery.  He couldn’t smell the odour of wet livestock overlaid with the unexpected sweetness of a rose coupled with cinnamon – Alessa’s scent, and presumably, that of her aerock.

Satisfied that the intruders had not passed through, Devan headed into the second bypass tunnel for the southern sector – better known as Climber Two, as the path ultimately led back to the first tier of the city above.  Devan drew his dagger.  If he encountered trouble, there would be limited room to swing even a shortsword.

He hiked in almost complete darkness.  Shards of untapped andonite glimmered in the walls at irregular distances, enough to light the way.  All of the three tunnels designated as Climbers were formerly the original mineshafts of early Centarans.  Branching tunnels extended from each of them, forming a subterranean latticework that could only be appreciated in a map.

Legs skittered across the floor ahead.  Devan paused as a flicker of shadow passed across the dim blue air.  A harmless terepid – the stick-like insect that survived on andonite heat by tapping on the mineral, which was the secret that Centarans had copied with their pipe transfer systems.  Terepids had originally clung to exposed andonite on the outside of aerocks but were now prolific inside tunnels.  Devan continued, rounding another corner as the tunnel snaked upwards.

“Hsss.”

Devan whirled around, dagger at the ready.

“Easy, ranger.”

Forms peeled away from the tunnel, coalescing into Sergeant Lora, Lei, Mikis and Olban.  Devan sighed.  “A bit of warning would’ve been nice.”

“That would defeat our purpose,” Lora said.  Her team wore leather armour with designs of rock and dirt.  In the low light against the tunnel walls, they were invisible.  “Have you seen anything, Devan?”

“No, sergeant.  It’s all quiet behind me.”

“The intruders must be on another track.  We should rejoin the Captain and Marshal.”

“The Marshal as well?”

“Jarrell is commanding this operation,” Lora said.  “They’re set up in Central Chamber North.”

“What about Romaine?”

“This is technically within the city.  It’s Jarrell’s responsibility.  We are temporarily under his command.”

“Fair enough,” Devan said.  “Shall we get moving?”

Lora nodded.  “Everyone, form up.”

Lei, Mikis and Olban fell into line behind Lora and Devan set off.

“I thought you were on leave,” Lora said to Devan.

“I am,” Devan said.  It wasn’t quite a full lie but was mostly true.  “There have been attacks in the boroughs and villages outside the city.”

“So I’ve heard.  The military has been stretched.”

Devan nodded but did not reply.  Just as the city guards worked primarily to maintain peace and justice, the rangers too were not warriors first.  They were not unfamiliar with combat but did not live for it, unlike the soldiers under Jarrell’s usual command.

Lei’s voice carried from beind.  “They say the intruders stole andonite rifles.”

“They did.”

“Are we to face them today?”

“I doubt it,” Devan said.

Lora added, “It takes training and a knack to use the rifles – not to mention the right andonite chips as well as the ammunition.”

“Good.”

Andonite rifles could launch metal bullets with such speed that they pierced even plate armour at long distance.  Andonite chips of a specific size were required as the hammers in the rifles smashed them, releasing all of the energy and gas at once.  Larger chips were useless as there was no way to safely cut them down to size.  The bullets were also finely crafted by master smiths – too large and the bullets jammed in the rifle while too small and they did not launch.

All of this made andonite rifles expensive to use and maintain but it didn’t stop Devan from dreaming about it.  He trooped on in the darkness, imaginary rifle in his hands and his parents’ murderers in his sights.

“Vaere!”

Ahead, Brunos froze.  Alessa called out, “What is it?”

“A wire,” Brunos said.

Elius and Malos shuffled up, dark silhouettes in the low blue light of the tunnels.  The older of the Serpens said, “Don’t move.  Let me see.”

As Elius crouched next to Brunos’ ankles, Alessa rested against a wall and silently cursed.  Her legs ached from the steady incline and her shoulders pinched with the weight of the armour.  She did not want to die here.

“Malos,” Elius said.  “Follow this line.”

“It goes into this hole.”

“Moons above,” Alessa said.  “A trap.”

“I do not think these Centarans would destroy these tunnels,” Elius said.  “They still use them.”

“Easy for you to say, old man,” Brunos said.  “It’s not your foot.”

“I will stay.”

Alessa pushed past them.  “Give me some distance.”

“Ha!” Brunos threw his hands in the air.  “Alessa has some sense.”

Malos joined Alessa and said, “I say we leave those two behind.”

“We might not get a choice.”

Elius stood up and crossed his arms.  “Go ahead, Brunos.  Show us this disaster.”

The Tarian thrasher took a deep breath and stepped forward.  The wire hissed back into position.

Silence.

“Lovely,” Elius said.  “Let’s keep moving.”

Wooden cranks echoed in the tunnel.  Dust shook from the ceiling and Alessa ducked down.  Elius and Brunos sprinted towards her as iron poles drove into the dirt floor in the section behind.  The shuddering ceased.

“Everyone all right?” Alessa asked.

“Aye.”

“What was that?” Malos said, dusting off his counterfeit tabard.

Elius treaded back down the tunnel, the blue illumination from the exposed andonite diffused through the dusty air.

“Elius?”

The Serpens thrasher called out, “It was a trap.”

“I told you!” Brunos crowed.

“But not one to kill us.”  Elius reappeared.  “T’was one to stop us.”

“The way ahead is clear,” Alessa said.  She suppressed a dry cough.

“The way back is not.”

In the clearing air, Elius’ words became apparent.  Iron bars had dropped from the ceiling, preventing their retreat.

“Very well,” Alessa said.  “Onwards, then.”

“Aye.”

Brunos stomped ahead and the Serpens men followed.  Alessa cast a last look back at the barred tunnel.  Had they stumbled onto an old defensive trap or had the Centarans known of their raid?  Had she played Devan for a fool or had he done the same to her?

The tunnel continued climbing towards the surface.  Only the occasional mumbled conversation and the drag of their boots against the dirt accompanied them.  More than a few side-tunnels branched off; some were compact while others were roughly hewn.

After the first handful, Malos said, “Why don’t we try another path?  Who knows how long this tunnel goes?”

“No,” Brunos said.  “This looks to be a major route to the surface.”

“I agree,” Elius said.  “We need to reach the city.”

Malos grumbled to himself and leaned against the tunnel.

“Hurry up, lad,” Elius said.

“Go on.  I have a stone in my boot.”

Alessa shook her head at her companions and they continued upwards.

Metal punctured chain links.  Gurgles.

Alessa whipped around and the walls shifted like the shimmering of a heat wave.  Malos slumped to the dirt, dead.

“What is that?”  Brunos drew his sword.

“No!”  Alessa pushed him forward.  “Run!”

The shapes flowed towards them but Alessa sprinted off, refusing to look back again.  Brunos and Elius were close behind, their boots slamming into the floor of the tunnel, curses and prayers coupled together.

Fatigue burned in Alessa’s legs before long – the constant incline coupled with the prior hike both took their toll.  Her breath grew ragged and her pace slowed.  Brunos and Elius overtook her at the next bend.

“Come on, lass,” Elius said.  “This isn’t the place to dawdle.”

“I don’t think I can run any further.”

“It’ll be your death!  Get moving!”

Alessa nodded and jogged after them.  The brief respite proved fruitless as she managed a shuffle through the tunnel.  Alessa continued placing one boot after the other.  Hard outcroppings provided handholds where she pulled herself forwards.  The sounds of pursuit had disappeared but there was no telling what could happen in the darkness.

The tunnel turned again and opened into a wide cavern flush with the glow of oil lamps.  Brunos pulled her behind a row of stalagmites.  He put an index finger to his lips and motioned with his head.

Alessa peeked over the rocks as Elius joined them.  Beyond the pipes that lined the walls and ceiling, a group of rangers gathered at a mechanical station full of levers and steam machinery.  Alessa recognised some of them from her time at the Council as well as the feast.  A couple of the green tabards kept watch on the tunnels – Alessa, Brunos and Elius were fortunate that there had been only two sentries for the myriad ingresses into the cavern.

“What do we do?” Brunos whispered.

“We are trapped,” Elius said.  “Whatever was behind us will soon be here.”

Alessa clenched her gauntleted hand, resisting the urge to punch Brunos in the back of the head.  She had to accept that they all shared the responsibility of getting trapped behind the grate.  Her legs still throbbed.  She unsheathed her sword.  “We go forward.”

Lora led Devan and her team into Central Chamber North.  The blazing lamps temporarily blinded Devan but as he squinted at the rangers grouped behind the control panels, a cry rose from a sentry.

“Merchantry West Four!  They’re here!”

Devan drew his sword and pumped his tired legs to the western tunnels.  Lora and her team followed on his heels.  A group of four soldiers charged into the light and Devan frowned to himself.  The red tabards were dull – thick linen instead of the usual finely threaded wool that shimmered.

“Imposters!” Devan hollered.

The first enemy swung his sword in a wide swipe and Devan dove aside, his glorious charge ending with a roll in the dirt.  Lora’s team clashed with the intruders, grunts and screams echoing throughout the cavern.  Devan leaped to his feet.

“Climber Tunnel Three!”

Devan hesitated.  Lei struggled against her opponent’s massive bulk.  The young ranger was quicker with her shortsword than the enemy with his weapon, a gleaming broadsword that had never seen combat before.  Olban and Mikis fought beside her – they could handle this group without Devan.

A volley of arrows arced from the tunnels and the rangers ducked behind the grouped pipes at the control panel.  Jarrell’s voice boomed but the echo rebounded on itself, rendering his orders unintelligible to Devan.

“Climber Tunnel One!”

Devan swore to himself and charged at tunnel Three and the group of archers that took cover behind a wall of air pipes.  One of them rose and took aim at Devan.

The arrow skewed wide but Devan still flinched from the hiss through the air.  He leaped over the bundle of pipes and the imposter soldiers flushed out from their cover, bows discarded as they tore at their daggers and swords.

Jarrell’s bellows became coherent.  “Return fire!  Return fire!”

Devan scurried out of the way as his fellow rangers loosed a volley of arrows at the tunnel Three intruders.

“Devan!  Tunnel One!”

He raised a fist in acknowledgement.  A group of enemies from tunnel One had almost made the connecting passage that led directly into the city.  Devan sprinted, ignoring his screaming legs.  Perhaps Benton’s drills hadn’t been strict enough.

Devan plunged into the tunnel after the false soldiers.  There had been three – two men and a woman, at his guess.  All of them wore chainmail armour with helms, boots, gauntlets and swords that had been likely stolen the previous night.  Devan’s eyes adjusted to the gloom once more, thin lines of andonite the only illumination.