Marilyn Todd - Black Salamander

In the dark, eerie silence of the cavern, two hundred feet below ground, Claudia let out a scream.

‘What’s wrong?’ he called. ‘What’s the matter.’

She waited several seconds. ‘I slipped,’ she called back, and there was a catch in her voice. ‘Hit my head when I toppled backwards.’ She limped towards the huntsman, who was holding the torch out as far as he could. ‘I…’ Tears of shame welled up. ‘I can’t manage alone. I…need your help.’

Contrition swept over his face. ‘Look, I’ll cut your hands loose, just while you, er-’

‘Thank you.’ She sniffed. With the back of her hand, she scrubbed away the tears. ‘Only I couldn’t get my underclothes off…’

‘Yes, yes.’ Arcas didn’t want to know the details. ‘Well you, um-I’ll wait here.’ He watched the pitiful figure dissolve into the blackness.

Free of her bonds, Claudia’s mind span like a mill race. Backtracking to make a break for the entrance was out of the question, since that entailed leaving Drusilla behind, the best she could hope for was to creep up and try to surprise him.

A betting man would have laughed and walked away.

Claudia wouldn’t have blamed him.

Maybe, though… Maybe there is another way…

‘This is better,’ she called out to Arcas. ‘I can take off my thong without falling over.’

The misty silhouette did not require intimate details. It shuffled in acute embarrassment and stared at the cave roof and did not see the figure which flitted past him on the floor of the cave. Before the ice rose up into a wall again, Claudia pulled off her shoes, stuffed them into the waistband of her thong and jumped. Her fingers caught the ledge of the walkway and quickly she heaved herself up. Keeping her back to the rock, she scuttled barefoot up the spiral tunnel.

‘Claudia?’ Anger echoed round the grotto. ‘Come here, you bitch!’

Arcas held up his torch. No one! He swore under his breath.

‘I’ll find you,’ he yelled. ‘You won’t get far.’

In the darkness, his ears strained for sounds. They heard nothing. Just a drip-drip-drip from the roof.

‘Even if you make it to the entrance, I can track you,’ he shouted. Track-you-ack-you-ack-you echoed back at him, that was all. No frantic footsteps, no scrabbling against rock.

‘You can’t get away from me, Claudia.’ He paused to listen. ‘I have your cat,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to harm it, but if I have to, I will.’

Still no sounds. Where the hell was she? Hiding on the flat part of the ice? He sprang down and made a quick search. Maybe hiding between the rock and the ice? His light moved back and forth over the gap. Nothing there.

‘You can’t stay hidden,’ he called. ‘I’ll find you. Frozen to death, more than likely.’

Goddammit, she was hiding somewhere. He looked around, hoping to see telltale steam from her breath. She could not have gone far. He’d have seen her.

‘That’s it,’ he said warningly. ‘I’m coming after you, Claudia.’

He ran back up the walkway to the little cave. Carefully he approached the entrance. Could she have made it this far without him hearing her? He didn’t think so. His memory replayed the sounds when he’d guided her down the ramp. The sounds their shoes made on the stone, her ragged breathing, the shivering, the chattering of her teeth with the cold. Pausing in the doorway, he saw that nothing had changed. The blankets she’d wrapped round herself were still heaped. Coils of smoke rose from the fire. He listened hard. Nothing. Confident, he strode inside and reached down for his sword.

‘Meeowrrrr.’

Something black flew at his face. ‘Aaargh!’ As the torch fell from his grasp, blood streamed from his face, where the cat’s claws had left wide open gashes.

‘ Mrrrrrow! ’ Drusilla, incensed that she’d been used as a weapon, shot past his legs.

‘Bitch,’ he cried, but before his hand closed over his weapon, the full force of a log sent him spinning sideways, knocking his sword out of reach. ‘I’ll see you pay for this.’

‘You and who else?’ Claudia sneered. Think he was the only one who had tactics? What’s the first thing a child learns when it grows up in the slums? The art of invisibility. When your parents are drunk, fighting drunk, pulling the hair out of one another drunk, you learn pretty fast. Flatten yourself against the wall. Take short, soundless breaths through your nose. Never seen. Never heard. Hey presto. Invisible.

In the last rays of guttering torchlight, Claudia saw him draw a dagger from his belt. She lunged for the sword and swung. It swooshed through the blackness and clanged against the stone wall, sending shock waves up to her shoulder. Shit! She hadn’t realized it would be so heavy.

‘Think you can fight me and win, do you?’ he hissed. ‘Well, I have news for you, pretty lady. We need that map, and by old Father Dis, I’ll see that we get it, and if you think my brother’s tactics are brutal, think again, because I won’t just kill that fucking cat of yours.’

He lunged in the darkness, and she knew he’d mistaken her for the log with which she’d hoped to poleaxe him. With a clang, the log bounced down the walkway. He wouldn’t make that mistake twice.

She held the sword in both hands. Holy Jupiter, what a weight!

‘I swear I’ll torture that cat before your very eyes. In the end, I’ll have you begging to hand over that map.’

She believed him! ‘You’re two of a kind, you and your brother. One a repellent insect. The other vermin.’ Whoooosh. Again the sword sliced through thin air. ‘That’s how foxes are viewed, isn’t it, Arcas? As vermin?’

She heard him scuttle across the cave and so she dodged sideways. ‘You think I give a fuck about your Roman insults?’ A hand lashed out and grabbed hold of her tunic. Another trap. He’d anticipated such a move.

So had she. Like an earwig, she wriggled free of the shirt. The cold air against her naked flesh made her gasp. He heard the sound and his arm followed instinctively. The blow caught Claudia full in the mouth. Sent her reeling. Blood spurted out.

‘All I care about is freeing my people,’ he said, and she caught the sweet whiff of dried ceps. ‘You should have given me the map when I asked.’

Why didn’t I? she wondered. Why didn’t I just hand it over?

Her head was pounding from the force of the blow. She saw stars.

Dammit, she’d landed right in the hearth. Blood from her mouth dripped into the ashes. The air here was dry. Tickly. Any second now she would-‘Atchoo!’

Bugger. The sounds in her head intensified, the stars grew ever brighter. She was cold. Bitterly cold. The heat from the fire had long died. She was weak from the cold, the sword was a ton weight in her hand…

‘So that’s where you’re hiding.’ His laugh was soft and gentle. Superior in victory. ‘Very smart.’ A fist grabbed her hair and yanked her bodily out of the hearth.

‘No, you don’t,’ she spluttered, and threw a handful of ash in his face. Choking, Arcas released her.

Claudia took a wild swing with the sword. Whoooosh, through thin air. Frantically she swung it backwards. There was a crack. A dull thud. Then a roll. Great shot, girl. You’ve cut down a ham.

Suddenly the stars in her head became lanterns. The pounding in her ears turned to voices. Male voices. The Spider’s men! A crowd filled up the doorway. Clamouring. Shouting. With both hands, she hefted the sword. By the gods, it was heavy, but they wouldn’t take her alive. She would fall on it first.

‘Claudia?’

Tears streamed down her face, runnels in the blood and the ash. Sweet Janus, I’m hallucinating with fear. Now I’m seeing It was a trick. Another of the Spider’s ruses. That in the sudden burst of lamplight, she’d mistake his man for Marcus. Look, that one even looks like Junius. His arm and shoulder bandaged convincingly ‘Claudia?’