Alan Foster - Krull

"How do you know that's right?" Bardolph frowned at the juncture. "How can you tell direction in this place? There's nothing to judge by."

Colwyn didn't hesitate, stepped confidently forward. "I don't know how I know, but I know." He nodded ahead. "It's this way."

"Then perhaps we should go another way," Ergo put in, but his jest passed unappreciated. No one was in a very jocular mood.

Concentrating on the path ahead, none thought to check the small side recesses that pockmarked the tunnel. So no one saw the Slayer that stepped out of the darkness to heave a spear at Torquil's back. No one except Kegan, who moved fast while trying to shout a warning.

"Torquil! Look ou—!"

The spear took him in the side and the Slayer came after it. Oswyn cut him down, continuing to hack at the motionless body long after the life had fled from it.

Torquil bent over the wounded Kegan, inspecting the injury. Bitterly he saw there was no reason to remove the spear.

"That was stupid," he said through clenched teeth.

"I… I agree," Kegan said dully. "Looks like my traveling days are over, my friend." His back arched spasmodically, his eyes wide. "That hurts. A just end to a frivolous life, though I wish it had come outside under the clean sky. This is no place to be buried."

"Don't worry," Torquil muttered. "We'll get you out of here."

"Doesn't matter. Don't waste the time. Here's where I fell and I guess here's where I'll stay. Tell… tell Merith I loved her. Tell her she was my favorite. And tell Lona I loved her, and she was my favorite." He winced, then the old smile returned. "You understand."

Torquil nodded. "I understand."

A little sigh escaped Kegan's lips. "I did love them all, you know." A second sigh, then stillness.

"I know," Torquil said softly. Gently he passed a hand over the staring eyes, closing them. Better a good man should look inward for eternity than at the walls enclosing them.

Colwyn stood silently behind the bandit leader. It was not his place to comment.

Finally Torquil stood. His expression was grim, resolved. "He knew the risks and accepted them of his own free will. So do we. So do we all."

"A few must die so that many may live," said Oswyn. "The old man said that one night. I heard him, but I never thought I'd find myself agreeing with him,"

"If we are those few …" Bardoloh "Then so be it," Ergo finished for him. Besides, he told himself resignedly, we are committed. But somehow the sarcasm rang hollow. A vague sense of purpose had driven them to accompany Colwyn on his quest. Now something powerful gripped them all, even he who'd never been one to volunteer for desperate causes. Kegan's death underlined what they'd already accomplished, as well as hinting at what they might yet achieve.

Glory and greatness are such abstracts, Ergo mused, until circumstances make them real.

"Lead on," Torquil told his king.

No more deadly surprises waited to greet them. No matter how brightly lit or inviting the intersecting corridors appeared, none swayed Colwyn from his chosen course.

So intent were they on the dangers that might assail them from the side or above, however, that no one noticed the hairline crack in the floor ahead.

It opened noisily and fast, the sound warning them barely in time. Whether their footsteps or an unseen hand had triggered it, none could say. Not that it mattered. The slick, rounded corridor sent them tumbling downward, scrambling for a handhold.

Torquil, Colwyn, and Bardolph barely managed to hold on to the edge of the opening. Colwyn was the first back on his feet, followed by the agile Oswyn, with Torquil a step behind. Together they helped the frantic Bardolph, then all turned to peer into the narrow gap.

There was light below, and not far below, at that.

"Ergo! Titch!" Colwyn shouted downward.

Below, Ergo was already examining their prison. Titch had landed hard and was a little slower to rise. The light was dimmer than in the corridor above, but they could still see clearly.

"We're here," Ergo replied.

"All right?"

"Except for bruises and bumps." He glanced over at Titch. The boy nodded once as he gingerly felt of his backside. "I'd guess we're about ten feet below you." He examined the smooth, curving walls. "I can't find a handhold big enough for a gnat. We're in another tunnel. It's very narrow."

Torquil bent over the gap and yelled down. "You're sure there's no way to climb up?"

"Only for a bird," Ergo told him.

Titch moved to stand closer to his friend, staring upward.

"Throw us a rope," Ergo shouted.

Torquil turned and began rummaging through his rucksack. The coil he produced was thin.

Colwyn eyed it uneasily. "Doesn't look very strong."

"It'll hold them if they come up one at a time." Torquil sounded confident. "I know. I've had occasion to use it when plying my trade. A man should know his tools." He thought a moment, added, "My old trade, of course."

Colwyn turned his face away so that the bandit leader would not see his grin. "I guess even a rope can redeem itself. Hand me the line and brace it."

Torquil nodded, wrapped a section of the rope around his waist, and handed one end to Bardolph while Colwyn played out the other over the edge of the gap. The two thieves steadied themselves.

Ergo's eyes were on the rope, but Titch saw something out of the corner of an eye, shouted a warning. "Slayers!" He pointed up the narrow tunnel.

Colwyn tried to see below, bending over, but the twists and turns in the floor hid the approaching danger. Immediately he looped the rope around his waist, tightened it.

"I'm going down."

"Why risk all we've gained if—" Bardolph began, but Colwyn eyed him so coldly the man went silent.

"I'm going down," Colwyn repeated, "and now! Torquil, be ready to bring us up at the signal."

Torquil leaned backward, clenched his teeth. "Say the word and I'll have you out like a moonbeam."

"Right. Easy now." He stepped over the edge and started to let himself down.

He was suspended halfway between upper and lower passage when a deep rumbling sounded from all around and the gap began to close as quickly and unexpectedly as it had opened. Torquil didn't wait for orders, nor was there time to discuss the matter.

"Up! Pull him up!"

Despite the combined strength, Colwyn's ankles barely cleared the opening before it shut tight beneath them, forming a solid, unbroken floor beneath their feet once more.

Colwyn sat back, staring grimly at the crack that mocked them. Titch and Ergo were trapped somewhere below … with Slayers. He kicked at the surface in frustration. Not even Rell could have pried that mass apart.

A hand touched him and he stared up at Torquil. The thief's expression was set. "They chose. We all chose."

"But the boy…" Colwyn's fingers touched the glaive. But as had happened with Rell, Ynyr's words held him back. If he did not conserve the glaive's power to confront the Beast, all would be wasted.

"They've given what they could," Bardolph added. "Let's be off from here."

Colwyn hesitated, then nodded and climbed to his feet. But he left another part of his soul behind in that corridor.

Ergo had stared helplessly as the ceiling had slammed shut overhead. Now he backed down the corridor, his mind working frantically, his eyes on the two approaching Slayers. There was no telling where the corridor led, perhaps to a dead end, perhaps to the Beast's lair, perhaps nowhere. He leaned around the curving wall, ducked back as a Slayer spear lashed out at him.

It might have been the fear in the boy's face that galvanized him to action, or some hidden reserve of cunning and knowledge. Colwyn had suspected it lay hidden beneath that buffoonish exterior all the time, while Ynyr had doubted it. Whatever the inspiration, Ergo abruptly did what he did best.