Paul Kemp - The Hammer and the Blade

"In the cliff face, probably," Nix said. "We're going to need rope. We'll hitch it to the horses."

Baras sidled up to the edge of the cliff, leaned over to try to see the cliff face.

"Mind yourself," Egil warned. "You go over the edge, we'll be looking for your body in the surf. That's rough water."

Baras nodded, backed off.

Rakon licked his lips, stared down at the face in the water, appearing, disappearing. His hands fidgeted.

"Go get as much rope as we have, Baras. And bring the horses."

"And whatever torches we have," Nix said. "Now, tell us what this horn looks like."

It was late afternoon by the time Nix and Egil had gathered up such supplies as they expected to need, checked and re-checked their own gear and weapons, and taken a hearty meal. Egil prayed. Nix got his mind right.

Rakon paced and fumed throughout.

"We never rush," Nix explained.

"Body, soul, mind, and gear need to be prepared," Egil said.

"Prepare faster," Rakon said. "Minnear rises full tonight."

When they were ready, all but the eunuch and the sisters ascended to the top of the rise. Nix tied a series of step knots in the ropes and harnessed them to the pack horses. Egil took them in hand and pulled. The harnesses held and the horses seemed untroubled.

"Well tied," the priest said, as he tossed the lines over the side of the cliff.

"Of course they are," Nix said. "I tied them, didn't I?"

"You must return with the horn quickly," Rakon said.

"We don't even know for certain that this is the right tomb," Nix said.

"And neither do we know that it holds the horn," Egil added.

"It is and it does," Rakon said. "It must. My guards will accompany you. All but Jyme and Baras."

Nix shook his head. "They'll be in the way." He looked to the guards. "No offense."

They shrugged. None of them looked eager to descend the cliff face on a rope.

"They go with you," Rakon insisted.

"The spellworm already ensures our return," Nix said. "We don't need guards hounding us."

"They go with you, Nix Fall," Rakon said again.

Nix's anger made him think of striking Rakon, which made the spellworm squirm, which made him groan with nausea. Rakon smirked, no doubt surmising the truth.

"Fine," Nix said. He faced the guards, and indicated one of the rope lines. "You and your men use that line and only that line. I don't want one of you slubbers falling on my head."

Derg smirked. "You take care of your work, and we'll take of ours."

"Just like you did when that Vwynn tore open your shoulder and filled you with poison, yeah? You're only standing here because of me."

Derg colored, looked away.

"That line," Nix said, pointing at the rope. "And you'll want to lose your mail, too, unless you fancy heaving another four stone of weight up that rope when we come out. Or maybe you don't intend to come out? You think they'll come out, Egil?"

"Doubtful," said the priest.

Mutters, sheepish glances.

"I'm jesting," Egil said. "Find your balls, men."

Nix continued, "When we get into the caves, you do exactly what we say. Nothing more and nothing less. Your lives will depend on that. Well enough?"

The guards shifted on their feet, hesitated. Derg looked to Baras, but Nix spoke before Baras could offer any words.

"Baras isn't in command once we enter the cave. So I say again: well enough?"

"Yes, well enough," the guards said, and started to remove their mail shirts.

"Fakking slubbers," Nix muttered, and set to evaluating his gear, weapons, and gewgaws a final time. All was in order. Egil checked his hammers, his crowbar, then offered a prayer to the god who existed only on his pate.

For their part, the guards made the symbol of Orella and muttered prayers to Borkan, God of Warriors. Egil and Nix divided the torches between the two of them.

"Ready?" Nix asked.

Egil nodded; the guards nodded.

"Then over we go," Nix said. "Keep those horses still, Baras."

Nix and Egil went deftly over the side, Egil first, Nix following. The wind assaulted them the moment they hung exposed. Below, the surf roared over the rocks.

"Mind the breeze," Nix called to the guards. "And don't look down."

Egil and Nix braced their boots on the cliff face and walked themselves down. The guards followed on the other line, creeping awkwardly over the side and shinnying down the rope, using the knots Nix had tied.

Egil looked up at them and tsked. "Hope they can swim."

Nix looked down — heights did not trouble him — and waited for the surf and foam to pull back and expose the stone face of Abn Thuset.

"Comin' for you," he said with a wink.

While the guards made their slow, diffident climb down the rope, grunting and cursing throughout, Nix and Egil reached the cave mouth. Light from the lateafternoon sun set the large chamber's limestone alight. They swung off the rope and stepped inside.

A thicket of stalactites hung from the ceiling, and stalagmites jutted from the floor. Along the sides they joined into single columns that reached from the rough, irregular floor to the low ceiling. Down the center of the cave, however, the smaller stalagmites and stalactites stretched for one another like hopeless lovers, but didn't touch.

Beyond, the cave stretched back and down at a gentle slope, out of reach of the day's light.

"Goes back a ways," Egil said.

"Aye."

The first of the guards reached the cave mouth. Egil grabbed him by his belt and pulled him inside. He did the same with the others, one after the other. Derg started to walk deeper into the cave but Egil grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to a stop.

"Don't move unless we say," the priest said to them.

Wide-eyed, Derg nodded.

Moving his feet as little as possible, Nix examined the ceiling and floor, looking for man-made seams disguised as cracks. He saw none.

"Don't look much like a tomb," Derg said.

Nix did not bother to explain Afirion burial customs to the youth. Typically, Afirions dug tombs for their royalty in caverns that already existed.

The earth awaited the body of wizard-king thus and so, the inscription usually read.

"The tomb proper will be deeper in," Egil said.

"If it's here," one of the guards said.

"It's here," Egil and Nix said in unison.

"How do you know?" the guard asked.

Nix pointed with the tip of his falchion at a faint discoloration on the ceiling. "That's a soot stain. Very old."

"And note the stalactites and stalagmites," Egil said. "See how they're thinner and shorter in the center of the cave?"

"So?" the guard said.

"So," the priest explained. "The ones in the center are not as old as those on the sides. That's because the original ones in the center of the cave were cleared to allow passage of workers and materiel. Probably that statue in the water was cracked or broken in transit and discarded by lazy workmen. Proved good luck for us."

While the guards digested that, Nix used a matchstick from his bag to fire a torch.

"I lead," he said. "Then Egil, then the rest of you. Don't touch anything."

Nix led them through the thicket of stone, and followed the slope of the cave downward into darkness. The tunnel narrowed to a neck at twenty paces and they advanced in single file. The guards' rapid breathing betrayed their nervousness.

The narrow passageway opened abruptly into a large vaulted chamber of worked stone. The flickering light of Nix's torch illuminated plastered walls and a ceiling covered in pictoglyphs and Afirion script, a riot of colors and imagery. A large metal door stood on the opposite side of the chamber. Nix saw nothing to indicate the name or station of the person buried in the tomb, but that was not unusual. The receiving room was used to prepare the body for eternity. Afterward, the room was typically covered in curses and trapped. It was probably a good thing he couldn't read much Afirion script.