Valorian (7 page)

The tunnel remained empty and silent. The only noise Valorian could hear was the soft clip-clop of Hunnul's hooves on the floor, yet the clansman knew they were not alone. The feeling of a presence close by grew stronger by the moment. Something was watching them, he knew it. The back of his neck prickled and his body was rigid with tension while he strained every sense into the darkness surrounding them. Every now and again he half saw a whisk of movement at the farthest reaches of his light, as if something was getting out of the way of the strange magical illumination. He imagined the gorthlings, if that's what were out there, were rather surprised by a soul entering their domain with a horse, a sword, and a sphere of magical light. He just hoped their amazement would keep them at bay for a while longer.

The cold, fetid draft was stronger now, and the mountain seemed to weigh heavily over their heads. Hunnul walked on, ever downward, his ears swiveling like a deer's and his nostrils flaring to red cups. The stal ion was so tense he was practically stepping on the tips of his hooves.

Valorian lost all track of time. He didn't know how long they walked in the stinking, cold darkness or how far they had gone. His sense of reality shrank to a small circle of light surrounded by unseen evil and imagined horrors.

After a while, he became aware of harsh whispers in the blackness behind him. A pattering sound, like many small feet, echoed down the tunnel, and now and again there was a crashing noise as if a rock had been dislodged. Once Valorian thought he heard an agonized shriek from somewhere in the darkness, but it was impossible to tel from which direction it came, and the hideous sound was cut off almost as quickly as it began. Valorian swallowed hard and wondered where the soul of the dead man had gone—and where were the gorthlings?

Hunnul pushed on until he was almost jogging along the passage. The sound of his hooves rang around them, yet the noise didn't hide the skittering and whispering sounds in the shaft behind them.

All at once something small scooted out of the blackness and gave Hunnul's tail a vicious yank. The stallion squealed in fury and lashed back with a foot just a moment too late. The creature was already gone into the darkness before either man or horse could see it.

Valorian cursed under his breath. This journey was growing intolerable. He could hardly bear to continue simply riding into a blind trap while an unseen menace lurked at his heels. He wanted to stand and fight, to see his enemies and drive them away. But the evil things in the darkness stayed out of sight, and al he could do was keep going.

Warily he and Hunnul continued on, winding their way downward into the mountain fastness. It wasn't long before the creatures behind them grew bolder. Their whispers changed to malicious laughter that grated on Valorian's already stretched self--control. Rocks flew out of the dark to land with a crash near Hunnul's feet or strike with stinging pain on Valorian's back. Shadows small and swift dashed maddeningly in and out of the rim of Valorian's light.

"Come forth and fight me, you worms!" he shouted, brandishing his sword at the taunting shadows.

They merely laughed at him again with harsh, maniacal voices.

Valorian had ridden what seemed a very long distance when suddenly Hunnul snorted a fierce warning. Before the man could move, three small creatures dropped from the ceiling onto his head and shoulders. They wrenched off his helmet, threw it aside, and clutched at his head. His soul quailed at their foul touch. They reeked of evil, and their tiny, powerful fingers dug into his skin and hair like burning poison. They couldn't draw blood or seriously injure the soul, but they could inflict agonizing pain.

With an oath, Valorian dropped his sword across his legs and tried to wrench the creatures off with his hands. They clung, screeching and yowling in his ears until he was finally able to peel two of them off and fling them against the rock wal s. They bounced off the stone unharmed and ran gibbering into the darkness. The third still clung to his shoulder.

The clansman looked around, and for just a moment, he stared into the wizened, depraved face of a gorthling. Its head looked like a mummified child's; its eyes were large and depthless, like a chasm of horror and despair. With a shudder, Valorian stabbed his sword at the wicked, grinning face. The blade sliced deep into the creature's head, knocking it off his shoulders to the ground, but the creature clambered to its feet and vanished as quick as a rat.

"Gorthlings!" Valorian spat with loathing. Somewhere in the tunnel, a harsh, evil laugh sounded out of the unseen depths.

The man and horse didn't wait for another attack. They hurried on, breathless and frightened, while dry, guttural voices snarled and mocked them.

"Foolish mortal," the voices hissed. "You play your games, but you are ours."

"They're testing us, Hunnul," Valorian said harshly. "They're not yet sure what we can do." Al at once he noticed his sphere of light had dimmed during their fight with the gorthlings. He quickly concentrated on it, channeling the unfamiliar magic through his mind and into the light. To his vast relief, it flared, bright and reassuring, once more.

At that moment, he caught a glimpse of something at the edge of the renewed light. A mass of small, gibbering forms was crowding into the tunnel behind them, gathering to attack. If that many creatures caught them, he and Hunnul would never be able to fend them off.

An image of Amara's lightning bolt flashed into his mind, and quickly Valorian raised his hand and sent a small blue bolt of his own burning into the midst of the creatures. The mass fell apart, screaming in furious surprise.

"Run!" he shouted to Hunnul.

The stallion raced forward down the tunnel, his eyes rolling white with fear. Valorian ducked his head and clung desperately to the gal oping horse. He could only pray there were no sudden drop--offs or blind walls ahead. His light kept pace with them through the dark tunnel like a guiding star, and Valorian thanked his goddess at every step for the power she had given him.

Behind them, he could hear the gorthlings yowling and screeching as they chased the horse down the underground path. The man knew the creatures wouldn't be too worried about his momentary escape, for he and Hunnul were trapped in Gormoth. The gorthlings had all of eternity to catch and subdue them.

Valorian stifled a shiver and shoved that thought out of his mind. Let the gorthlings think he and Hunnul would never escape. Perhaps then he could catch them off guard. Al he and the black stallion had to do was stay out of their clutches long enough to find the crown and a way out.

Unfortunately, that didn't look as if it were going to be easy. The tunnel's quick turns and sharp curves made it difficult for a running horse to maintain a fast pace. Hunnul had to slow down to keep from crashing headlong into the stone walls or losing his balance. The gorthlings behind were gaining at every turn. The creatures were smal , but they were fast and very familiar with the black tunnel.

Then, without warning, a hail of stones crashed down on the man and the running horse. Hunnul stumbled, and his sudden movement pitched Valorian over his head. The clansman crashed into the rock floor and lay dazed while stones fell all around them. Gorthlings laughed from the ceiling above.

One particularly large chunk just missed Valorian's head, and the loud crack of stone on stone brought him to his senses. Desperately he scrambled back into his saddle. He was about to urge Hunnul on when several of the swiftest gorthlings caught up with them. The creatures swarmed up the horse's back legs and attacked Valorian like vicious wildcats.

Once again he had to sheath his sword and fend them off with his hands. Three gorthlings clung to his back, so Valorian quickly yanked off his cloak, wrapped it around them, and hurled it as far as he could. Hunnul, meanwhile, had recovered his footing and cantered forward. Another gorthling was still hanging to Valorian's arm, trying to snatch the sword. It scrabbled up his forearm, hissing as he reached for it.

Valorian was about to grab its leg when, to his surprise, the gorthling shrieked in pain and flinched away from him.

Without further attack, it dropped off and ran crying into the tunnel.

Valorian stared in amazement at his arm. What in the name of Sorh had hurt that gorthling?

Nothing he or Hunnul had done had harmed it. Why did this one flee? He studied his arm as best he could with the erratic movements of his horse, but he could see nothing unusual.

Except maybe one thing. In the folds of his heavy winter tunic glittered the gold armband his wife had given him on their betrothal. It was his most precious personal possession and one he wore on his upper arm at all times. When he had pulled his cloak off, the armband had been exposed, and the gorthling had touched it. Could it be that the gorthlings were afraid of gold?

If this were true, Valorian wished he had a whole chest of gold. One small armband wasn't going to help much against a swarm of gorthlings. Still, it was a fact worth remembering.

While the man was thinking of gold, the horse continued to canter down the tunnel. The path seemed straighter now, but steeper, forcing the black to slow down again. They both could hear the gorthlings following them, for the harsh voices reverberated through the hol ow darkness.

Moments later, Valorian noticed the passageway ahead was growing lighter. The brightness didn't come from his sphere, nor was it the clear light of day. The light was yellowish and uneven--more like firelight. The air had changed, too, becoming warmer and more heavy with the smell of superheated rock.

The clansman had only a moment to wonder about it before Hunnul gal oped through an archway and into a large grotto. The light immediately intensified; the stench of molten rock struck their nostrils like a blow. Valorian took one horrified look and brought Hunnul to a sliding stop.

Before them, the path continued on through a giant cavern, except now it was no more than a narrow ledge that wound along the wal on the left side of the cavern. About twenty feet directly below the trail was a wide, slow-flowing river of lava that was moving downward toward the center of the mountain. Valorian had never seen molten rock before, and' its heat and ponderous, deadly current staggered him. He didn't need an explanation to know that it would be agony to fall into that river of liquid stone.

On the other hand, he and Hunnul couldn't stand around and wait for the gorthlings to catch them.

They had to keep going. Swiftly Valorian dismounted and, after a few reassuring words to his horse, led Hunnul onto the thin, crumbling ledge.

The trail was barely wide enough for the big horse. Hunnul had to pick his way very carefully along the cracked and cluttered ledge with his barrel rubbing along the stone wall and his hooves bare inches from the drop--off. He nickered nervously, and Valorian reached back to rub his nose.

It was that movement that saved the clansman from the torment of the lava, for just as Valorian turned to comfort his horse, a blob of molten rock splattered against the wall by his head.

Valorian instinctively spun to face the danger. There, running along the surface of the lava river, were five gorthlings. They didn't seem to be bothered by the heat or the fluidity of the lava but ran over the surface as if it were solid ground. One scooped up a handful of the stuff and lobbed it toward the path above.

At that moment, the pursuing group of about fifteen or twenty gorthlings emerged from the tunnel. They whooped with glee when they saw the man and the horse on the ledge and the gorthling reinforcements on the river. With incredible agility, they scampered like wizened monkeys along the trail after their quarry.

"You can run, nag-rider," the gorthlings on the river cal ed rudely, "but you haven't got much farther you can go!"

"Let's see you jump, you useless heap of guts," one of the gorthlings on the ledge taunted. It flung a rock at Valorian to punctuate his point. The rest of the creatures fol owed suit, hurling a tormenting rain of stones, lava blobs, and insults.

Valorian and Hunnul frantically forced their way along the trail in an effort to escape the merciless barrage. They had only taken a few steps when two rocks struck Hunnul on the rump, and at the same time a handful of lava splattered around Valorian's legs. The clansman cried out and tried to shake the burning blobs from his leggings. The molten rock didn't actual y burn his skin, but the pain was there as real and terrible as in life. The stallion squealed, leaped forward, and nearly plowed the man off the ledge.

Valorian, clenching his teeth to ward off the pain, held on to Hunnul's mane with every ounce of his strength. Panic rose like bile in his throat. He tried to think through the jumble of pain and fear in his mind. He had to do something fast before one or both of them fell off the ledge into the lava or were overwhelmed by the gorthlings. What he needed was a shield, or better yet, a shelter. Then, like a little spark, a coherent thought clicked in his mind, and Amara's words sprang out of his memory. He could use his power as a weapon or as a shield.

Immediately he closed his eyes and tried to imagine a shelter around himself and Hunnul, a tent perhaps, clear, so he could see through it, permeable so they could breathe, and impervious to any kind of weapon. He concentrated, ignoring the pain, the fal ing stones, the frightened horse, and the gorthlings. He felt the power of magic flow through him, a little unsteadily at first, then warm and increasingly more comfortable. Slowly he raised his hands, lifting them over his head and down in the shape of a domed tent.

Something seemed to be happening around him, for the stones were no longer hitting him, and the gorthlings seemed to be howling in rage.

Valorian felt Hunnul stop his terrified prancing. Slowly he opened his eyes. He and Hunnul were completely surrounded by a pale red tent of glowing energy, while just outside, the gorthlings leaped and yelled in frustration as their missiles bounced harmlessly off the magical walls.

Valorian took a deep breath. He brushed off the last of the cooling splattered lava from his legs and took a moment to examine Hunnul. The stal ion seemed to be well enough. He had calmed down and was standing on the ledge, his eyes warily watching the gorthlings outside.