The bar was kinked in the middle, and Salu ran his hand down the length of it, straightening it in one smooth motion, giving him no more resistance than a coil of rope. He marched after the others, using it to aid his walking. Each time it struck the ground, a solid clump shuddered along the pipe. It was thick enough so that Leopold would need two hands just to get his fingers around the thing. He doubted if he could even pick it up, yet Salu strode along nonchalantly, ignorant of the burden in his hands.
The Turian soldiers let their lanterns light the way, Kali beside them acting as guide. Inwards they ventured, splashing up to their ankles in wastewater.
They moved quickly, breaking into a trot more often than not, and whenever Leopold looked over his shoulder, old Salu was never far behind, never hurried. He was always one corner behind them, moving along in the enfolding darkness, aided by his rod of steel, with Toby dancing about him like a little demon in the darkness. The old man’s pupils reflected the lamplight, silver rings hovering through the dark.
They stopped at a junction while Kali gained her bearings and discussed their route with her sisters.
Salu caught up to them. ‘Leopold,’ he beckoned, and as the Emperor turned, the old man prodded him sharply in the neck with his forefinger.
Leopold was stunned with pain and surprise, and Salu followed the motion with a series of solid pokes to his ribs and stomach, seizing his elbows and thrusting his thumb deep into the joints, squeezing his fingers deep into his loins, finishing with a sudden brush of his knuckles down Leopold’s spine. Leopold would have screamed if he was not already paralysed by the pain. He would have fallen, for he could no longer move to maintain balance, but the old man’s final act was to grab him and enfold him in a crushing hug, lifting his boots out of the water.
Held within the fierce embrace, Leopold panicked. He could not breath, he could not move. He felt his life trickling out of him. He fought for release, but as he made his futile efforts the pain subsided and a sublime feeling of peacefulness filled its place. Salu set him gently to his feet, and Leopold took a deep breath and sighed.
Everyone was staring and Leopold wanted to say something in response, to describe how he felt, but he dare not interrupt the heavenly feeling coursing through his veins. He felt light, powerful, taut as a spring. He was alert, and his muscles felt primed for action, yet relaxed. He just felt ready for anything and his mind was stimulated, alive with sensation.
‘What did you do?’ Leopold’s voice was a whisper, full of awe. ‘Was it magic?’
‘It is not magic,’ Kali answered before the old man could speak. She was staring at Leopold, captivated. ‘He has opened your vital channels. It is a way to improve one’s strength, speed, reactions ... everything; but it is only temporary. I thought I knew all there was to know about such things ...’ She shook her head. ‘The old man has shamed me, shamed our clan for our ignorance. I cannot conceive of how he did it. Take heed, sisters.’
‘Fascinating,’ one of the women whispered.
‘The world will need you once this is done, young Emperor,’ Salu said. ‘We can’t be expected to mother you forever. I hope this assistance will see you through what awaits ahead. After that, you can take care of yourself.’
He retrieved his rod from where he had impaled it into the floor. No one but he would have been able to remove it.
‘Leopold, are you all right?’ Daneel asked, for he and his men could only observe what was happening, unable to understand what was being said.
‘I’m fine,’ Leopold responded, feeling native Turian passing across his lips. ‘I just ...’ He trailed off, not quite able to find the words.
Daneel leaned closer to him. ‘You look so strange. Can you go on?’
‘Oh, certainly,’ Leopold confirmed with an enthusiastic smile. ‘I would not have it any other way.’
Daneel raised the eyebrow above his patch, then stepped aside to let the eager young Emperor on his way.
They soon came to another set of bars. Kali and her sisters huddled in a circle, while Daneel and his men scratched their heads, trying to resolve the quandary of this latest obstacle. Without hesitation, Salu shuffled past them and grabbed the bars and folded them aside, snapping them away from their ends like nothing more than dry brushwood.
‘Why did you not do that the first time and save us all the effort, old man?’ Daneel asked him.
Salu smiled like a mischievous child, eyes squeezed tight. ‘Time is short, but you looked so contented playing with your ropes ... how could I interrupt a mastermind at work?’
They left the rounded tunnels and were now in square, bricked passages. The smell was no less putrid, but at least there were ledges where they could step up and out of the muck. Although, Leopold was the only one bothered to do this—everyone else carried on along the centre of the passage, in too much of a hurry or uncaring of what they walked in. By now they were all already saturated in it up to their knees, so he supposed it made little difference.
Kali hesitated after a short distance, looking questioningly at the walls, while Daneel and his men waited impatiently behind her.
‘It’s no use,’ she said finally. ‘I recalled the directions perfectly, but the way is not correct. There should be a passage.’
‘Did she forget which way to bring us?’ one of Daneel’s men asked, looking to Leopold.
‘Tell your man to hold his tongue,’ she said, glaring at the man, knowing his discontent by his tone. ‘The directions given to me were flawed. There should be a way through this wall.’
‘She is right,’ agreed Eagle, the shortest of the women.
‘I can see the way,’ Salu declared.
He speared his rod into the floor once more and approached the wall, rubbing his palms together briskly. The others backed away cautiously.
He placed the flat of his hands against the stone. With one gentle shove the brickwork collapsed. Left in its absence was a broken archway in the stone and rising dust.
The echoes of hurried footsteps approached along the tunnel.
‘They have found us!’ Daneel said.
‘Hurry,’ Salu implored, stepping through the newly formed doorway. They followed after him, Toby skipping through last. ‘The lanterns,’ he grumbled.
The Turian soldiers did as they were told, extinguishing their lights. A dozen Eudans trundled by carrying lamps of their own, passing by the freshly made hole without so much as slowing.
The passage they now explored appeared in frequent use, judging from the lit oil burners along the walls. They set their lanterns down for good, freeing Daneel’s men to better wield their swords.
On they forged, treading the dank tunnels until coming to a large square chamber. It was tiled from ceiling to floor in emerald green, a raised circular platform at its middle. Against the far wall loomed a sculpture, a rapturous feminine figure larger than life. She was cut from the same polished green stone, sitting cross-legged and naked, and with a hundred or more arms snaking out from her sides and behind her back to cover the wall. Around her head was a halo of golden fire, made from jewels and stained glass.
‘What is this place?’ Daneel asked.
‘This is where Prithamon communes with his sorcerers,’ Kali replied, not needing to understand his words to understand the tone of them. ‘It is their temple.’
‘The Temple of Shadows,’ Leopold whispered. ‘It is supposed to hold all the relics and knowledge of the Circle of Eyes.’
‘Well, it’s empty now,’ Daneel said, ‘except for this statue. I must say, I can’t fault their choice of artwork.’ He paced around the statue, appreciating the fusing of the alluring female form with the multitude of limbs.
‘We are honoured to be here,’ the Koian woman Destiny stated, transfixed. ‘This temple is sacred, forbidden to all except Empress Moon and the servants of our god. We should make an offering.’
‘There is no need for that, sister,’ Kali told her. ‘We can pay our respects once our duty is done.
And this place can no longer be considered holy—the Eudans have desecrated its divine sanctity. This abomination does not belong. Many ceremonies will be required to cleanse it of this Eudan filth.’
Salu had wandered closest to the statue and was staring up at it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the bracelet he had taken from the dead sorcerer. He held it up, comparing it to the others in view. Some of the statue’s arms wore the same solid red and gold band—like an oversized, flattened ring with alternating coloured segments.
Daneel reached up to grasp one. ‘What are these used for?’
‘Mischief,’ was Salu’s reply.
Heeding the old man’s warning, the one-eyed man withdrew his hand, while Salu shoved his trinket back into his pocket and tottered towards the far door.
‘Should we destroy it?’ Leopold asked.
‘No,’ Daneel said. ‘If the old goat feels we have more pressing matters to see to, I have to agree. Come.’
They followed Salu into the next dingy, subterranean hall. It was wide enough for them all to walk abreast if they so desired, marked with doors on either side and continuing ahead for a hundred paces. But they did not need to go far until Kali spotted what they were seeking.
‘It is here!’ she announced in a whisper as they came before a sturdy, rounded door. ‘The entrance to the dungeon.’
‘Yes,’ said Storm. ‘We have found it.’
Her hand had only reached for the latch when a booming echo interrupted her. A door opened at the far end of the hall and Eudan guards pushed inwards.
‘They’re here!’ came a shout, and the dark-skinned men continued pouring through, shouting and readying their weapons.
Kali and her sisters sprang away silently, charging towards the Eudans and leaving Daneel and his team flat-footed by the dungeon door.
‘Go!’ Daneel said, and his men followed after, unsheathing their swords as they ran.
‘What shall we do?’ Leopold asked with worry.
Daneel opened the dungeon door and examined the revealed passage. It took an instant for him to draw back his head. ‘Too dark, too narrow. We stay here and fight. Leopold?’
‘Yes?’ the young Emperor answered, lightheaded.
‘Ready your sword.’
Leopold swallowed and drew his weapon. It hissed as it came, then the blade sang a harmonious note as its tip slid free. The sound chimed in his head, tickling behind his eyes, and together with the jubilant feeling that Salu had infused within him, he had never felt readier to go to battle.
‘Stay here,’ Salu told Toby, for the four of them were the only ones remaining.
Toby looked at him with curious wonder, as if a mushroom had just grown out from the top of the old man’s head. Salu then turned and trod steadfastly towards the fray, slamming down his rod with each step.
The battle at the end of the hall was in full swing and the noises and screams were loud and echoing, bouncing between the gloomy walls. Kali and the others were already outnumbered ten to one as the stream of Koians coming in through the door proceeded unabated. A dozen Eudans had slipped away and were charging down the passage towards Leopold.
‘Let’s go,’ Daneel told Leopold, drawing his own slender weapon. ‘And stay with me.’
They ran side by side, but as Leopold moved he found himself unable to stop his legs’ continued acceleration. He felt weightless upon them, empowered by Salu’s efforts, and his sword was a sliver of sunlight in his hand. He edged away from Daneel, gathering speed, and whipped past Salu, laughing wildly as he closed upon the Eudans like the wind.
He raised his blade, and the charging Eudans faltered. Their faces filled with confusion, then fear. Some turned and ran, then the lot of them followed, fleeing from the lone figure of Leopold who came shouting and roaring behind them.
Leopold laughed again, dizzy with power, until he realised it was not he who had startled the terrified Eudans. Something powerful was rattling the floor. The stones shook beneath his feet, a different tempo to his own, drowning out the slapping of his footsteps with a calamitous, approaching thunder.
Leopold was wondering what could be the cause when Salu bound past him. The old man’s feet shattered each stone beneath them, speeding him along like a furious juggernaut. A deafening bellow erupted from his mouth as he leapt upon the back of the Eudans. Five of them flew into the air at the first stroke of his rod, and more were dashed aside with each swing.
Daneel was far behind when Leopold caught up to the old man. The Emperor slid his sword into the body of a Eudan with precious little effort and was away again before the soldier hit the ground. Avoiding the chaotic swings of Salu, Leopold continued on, rushing to help Kali and the rest.
They were buried amongst a clot of Eudans and Leopold came at their backs, felling three of the enemy before they noticed him. Swords flew, and he was a tuft of dandelion upon the breeze. When they waved their blades towards him, he flowed around the sharpened edges like an eddy in the wind. He followed the currents on the air, dishing out swift strokes in return. He slapped red ink across the tapestry of Eudan men with the narrow brush of his sword, parting their tender flesh to release the brilliant colour inside, crafting a portrait of carnage. His sword held him firmly by the hand and guided him amongst the battle like an experienced lover. Leopold simply followed the dance of the blade. He moved where it led him, stepped where it wanted, dictating death with minute gestures of his wrist.
He saw only snippets of time in what must have been minutes: Kali looking at him with wild wonder; her hair tumbled around her face, her supple body moving and shifting, no weapon in her hands as she cracked bone and ruptured organs with beautiful, caressing movements; Storm lying dead at Kali’s feet, two swords crossing through her middle, her eyes locked to the ceiling, an expression of wonder trapped on her visage; Daneel’s men beside her, covered in blood that should have been in their veins; Daneel’s single, bulging eye as he hollered into Leopold’s ear, but Leopold could not stand still long enough for those words to be heard. He ducked aside and let them whip past his skin as if they too were deadly, sharpened weapons.
Salu came amongst them, folding men around his staff, their bodies bending in half as he caved in their ribs, shattered their backs and flicked what remained away. Far behind, by the dungeon door, a small boy stood waiting and watching, mirthful at the scene of destruction.
Time caught up with him and Leopold realised he was standing still, panting for breath. Few people remained upright amidst the piles of the dead.
‘No! No! Demons, leave us be!’ cried a surviving Eudan.
He and one other cowered in the dim corner, holding up their palms in surrender.
Salu leaned over them, his wide form all but obscuring them from view. Slowly, he raised his rod and pressed it in upon them; deliberately, forcefully twisting its haft. One Eudan commenced screaming, a high-pitched, terrible noise of absolute fear, then it broke and he too was quiet.
When Salu turned, there was no emotion on his face. Leopold did not dare attempt to see what remained behind him.
‘There is little time remaining,’ the old magician stated and his busy stride returned him to Toby and the dungeon door.
Daneel lived, showered in blood. Only two of his men had likewise survived, and both were wounded. Kali, Eagle and Destiny were relatively free of the blood that so covered the men. Evidently, fighting barehanded had its benefits in that regard.
Leopold was red from neck to toe. Blood gathered on the tip of his nose, forming a bulb, ready to drip. Despite his enhanced reflexes, he had not been able to evade the copious streams of blood he released. His skin was sticky and wet.
‘Gods, Leopold!’ Daneel said in an awed whisper. ‘You move like a man possessed!’
‘I ... I think it’s over.’ Leopold’s hands tingled and the sensation grew along his arms and up from his feet.
‘Careful, Leopold,’ Kali warned him, gathering her hair from her face and retying it. ‘You may feel in
vincible, but it is not so. You can be cut as easily as always. The effect is strong at first, but it wears off quickly.’
He nodded dumbly. He was a stranger in his own body, riding within a carriage of flesh, distant and disjointed.
‘Quickly!’ echoed Salu’s command.
They hurried to catch up with the man, leaving their fallen behind by the doorway. They followed Salu into the darkness beyond the dungeon door.
‘Hold up!’ called one of the injured Turians. He was unsteady on his feet, pallid in the face. ‘I don’t think I can go on.’
‘Wait here,’ Daneel replied. ‘Brin, you wait with him,’ he told the other fellow, the last of his men. ‘We’ll be back.’
They had to hurry to catch up with Salu, for the old man gathered speed, as he made his way down the steps, increasing in urgency.
The tunnel led to circular stairs that curled in the dark. By the time they reached him, the iron door at the bottom was already twisted out of the way and Salu was standing amidst the gloom. A handful of smoky oil burners were lit in the next chamber. The air was thick with their stench.
Chained upon the floor were the survivors: Captain Orrell, one of his men, Lady Wind, Phoenix and three Koian warrior women. They were too frail to do more than lift their heads. Many were missing, but the most conspicuous absences were Lord Samuel and Jessicah.
‘Captain,’ Daneel said, dashing to the man’s side. Likewise, Kali and her sisters hurried to the women.
‘What’s wrong with them?’ Leopold asked of Salu, for the group was nonresponsive, awake yet immobile.
Toby came skipping down the stairs, looking curiously into the room.
‘Too much hogwurt,’ Salu responded gruffly. ‘It can be fatal in large doses. These ones have been lucky.’
The old man went up to Orrell and, bending to one knee, flicked open the manacles. He put his palm to the captain’s brow and rubbed gently, not seeming to notice that he was spreading grime upon the man. Captain Orrell took a gulping breath, his eyes opened wide as if startled from a nightmare. Salu wasted no time in going about the room and reviving the others.
The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3) Page 37
