Thieves' Honor

by David Combs

  “There’s no time to stop,” said the mage. “Keep moving! Down the other tunnel!” Tyrell sprinted off with his two friends close behind him. The passage turned abruptly after a few dozen yards, and the men found themselves in a dead end. A flow pipe emerged from the wall just above their heads. It looked big enough for them to squeeze into, but another iron grate covered the opening.

  “Now what,” yelled Nestor. He slammed his sword hilt into the metal. “Those things will be on us any second now.” Galen crouched down to catch his breath, looking back down the passage behind them. Tyrell’s mind raced for a solution, but only one possibility came to him. The thought of it was just as frightening to him as the horde behind them.

  “Back down the tunnel. Stand just around the corner and be ready to run for this pipe when I tell you.” The wizard rushed back towards the turn.

  “Are you crazy,” asked Galen. “That’s where the bugs are!” Nestor grabbed the thief by his collar and dragged him back down the tunnel. The barbarian let the thief loose when they rounded the bend. The slithering, writhing mass was rapidly closing the distance between it and the three men.

  Tyrell’s eyes were closed in deep meditation. Nestor saw sweat roll down the wizard’s brow while the mage’s entire frame shook. The warrior realized that his friend was attempting some magic more powerful than he was normally used to.

  “Whatever you’re doing, do it faster, Tyrell,” shouted Galen.

  The wizard felt white hot energies burn through him as he fought to shape and control the surge of magical force. He sensed the tempting allure of the power that was offered to him, but he could also envision the devastation he could create. He gritted his teeth and focused his will.

  A crablike pincer grabbed at Nestor’s boot, and he launched the offending bug against the wall where it splattered in a slimy, green spray. Galen tried to climb the wall to get out of the way, but the slick, wet walls made handholds impossible to find.

  Tyrell ignored the snarling fury of the forces that seethed inside of him and shaped the unruly magic in his mind. As his eyes snapped open, he threw his hands out towards the grate in the flow pipe. His friends’ cries just barely rang in his ears as he released the built up power within him.

  A pinpoint of light zipped from his palm, hovering for a moment before the grate. “That’s it,” screamed Galen. The thief frantically swatted a snake that tried to entangle his legs. Suddenly, the light erupted into a blossom of flame that hurled them all back against the wall. The wave of heat and concussive force stalled the slithering advance. Nestor recovered the quickest, shoving his friends towards the pipe as they all slowly got back on their feet.

  “That bought us a moment,” he yelled. “Now get running.”

  Tyrell stumbled, dizzy from the wave of power that had flowed through him. The wizard felt as if his head would explode, and only the urgency of escape kept him conscious. Nestor wrapped an arm around the weakened mage and heaved him up into the pipe. From the corner of his eye, the warrior noticed the fire-blackened stone and drips of molten metal that had once been the iron cover of the pipe. He gave a low whistle in awe at what his friend had created.

  Galen didn’t have a chance to be impressed. The thief bolted down the tunnel but tripped as another snake coiled around his ankle. He fell face down in the sludge, choking as slime filled his mouth and nose. He tried to yell for help but the swarm descended upon him.

  “Galen,” roared Nestor. The barbarian jumped into the middle of the living mass. He ignored the bites and stings as he reached into the center of the horde, and caught the thief’s shirt. He hauled the younger man out of the muck, struggling to make his way back to the pipe. As a giant leech crawled up the warrior’s arm, Nestor paused just long enough to squeeze the life from the disgusting thing. All around his feet, the sewer waters churned and frothed as all manner of creatures tried to bring him down. Every step he took was a battle, and every time he lifted his foot he sensed how easily he could be knocked into the tangle surrounding him. Nestor knew that if he fell now, he and Galen would never get back up.

  Tyrell had caught his breath and saw the danger his friends were in. He knew he had to help. As his eyes fell on the glowing lumps of metal at the edge of the pipe, an idea occurred to him. He pulled the magic to him once again, and slowly, the orange glow of the cooling metal began to increase in intensity. A chill filled the air as the surrounding heat was sucked from the sewer tunnel into the iron. In seconds, the molten lumps had grown to a blinding radiance.

  The sudden drop in temperature helped revive the faltering warrior. He also realized that as the air grew colder, the creatures that slithered around he and Galen grew more still. Worms, slugs, insects, and so many other nasty creatures were all caught unawares with the plunging temperature, and they either grew lethargic or fled in search of warmer air. Nestor pulled himself free from the slithering muck and closed the rest of the distance to the tunnel. The barbarian lifted the thief into Tyrell’s hands, finally pulling himself up into the tunnel. Galen retched foul water from his bluish lips as Tyrell pulled him to safety.

  “Gods above, that was close,” swore Nestor. He looked at his two ragged friends. Tyrell rested with his eyes closed. The use of so much magic had drained him. Galen shivered and wiped slime from his face. He occasionally hung his head out of the end of the pipe to throw up on what few creatures remained below.

  “Serves the little bastards right,” he muttered.

  “Are you two going to be okay,” asked Nestor. Both men just nodded.

  “And you,” asked Tyrell. He eyed the numerous welts and dots of blood that covered the warrior.

  “I’ve been better, but we’re alive, so no point getting grim. Besides, how many men can claim to have broken out of jail, busted up some city guards, and run through the sewers to escape a bunch of slimy vermin set after you by a vindictive vampire all in one day? Hell, I’ve not had this much excitement in ages!” Nestor began to sing a barbarian victory song.

  Tyrell laughed softly. “We have had a pretty full night so far.”

  “And it’s still early,” said Nestor as he clapped the retching thief on the back. Galen scowled at the barbarian, then puked again. Tyrell’s smile slowly faded.

  “You do realize that we are being herded somewhere.”

  “What do you mean,” asked the thief.

  “I mean that Darian sent that swarm after us to drive us in this direction. We’re playing his game by his rules.”

  “You’re imagining things,” snorted Nestor. “He wants us dead. We barely made it through that iron grate in one piece. If he wanted us to go this way, wouldn’t he have left the door open?”

  “He’s not going to make it easy for us, but I think he did expect us to make it through somehow. Consider his swarm. They’re gone for now, but they are still close by. I’ll wager that if you set foot down there again, they’ll be right back on you. They are standing guard to make sure that we don’t go back that way.”

  “Guard bugs,” muttered Galen. “Now I’ve heard everything.”

  “Let’s get moving then,” said Nestor. “If Darian is at the end of this pipe, then let’s not keep him waiting any longer. I’m anxious to meet the bastard face to face. The three men finished catching their breath and then started their long, dark crawl.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “I see a light ahead,” said Tyrell as he crawled along the narrow pipe. For an hour now, the trio had been following the twisted maze of cramped passages running beneath the city. Dead ends and looping passages had cost them precious time. The mage led the way with Galen behind him. The thief was less nauseous now but had to pause to scratch the dozens of itching bites and stings he was covered with. Nestor brought up the rear with a steady stream of swearing as he continually banged his head or scraped his shoulders in the tight tunnel.

  The crawlspace ended abruptly in a solid iron grate that overlooked a dry stone corridor. Soft, magical lighting illuminated the hallway
every few hundred feet.

  “Have you got anything less dangerous to open this one with,” muttered Galen as Tyrell studied the grating.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Tyrell replied. He gave the iron screen a gentle push, and it fell to the floor with a resonating clang. “Seems someone was kind enough to take the bolts out of this one for us.”

  “Well at least they know we’re here now,” said Galen as dug his fingers in his ears to ease the ringing. “Does the word ‘stealth’ mean anything to either one of you? Let’s just make it that much easier for Darian to get his hands on us, shall we?”

  “Would you prefer his teeth on you,” growled Nestor from behind him. He shoved at the thief’s backside. “And if you don’t get your ass out of my face, I might just serve you up to him personally.”

  Tyrell helped his two friends climb out of the constricting passage. He studied the tunnel as they all stretched their cramped limbs. These walls had been made of carefully worked blocks rather than the raw stone that made up the sewer tunnels. Gone too was the reeking smell and moisture of the sewers. The pipe had emptied them into another dead end passageway, so they had only one direction that they could go.

  Tyrell beckoned for the others to follow, and they proceeded silently down the hall for about two hundred yards. The hall then turned left, ending at two immense brass doors.

  Galen approached the portal, studying them with his trained eyes. “Neither trapped nor locked,” he declared. “Pretty ancient metalwork, though. The style of the designs on the brass is about twelve centuries old.”

  “Should we knock first,” asked Nestor as he put his shoulder against the heavy door. Surprisingly, it opened easily on well-oiled hinges. A tunnel broken by short flights of stairs descended into a cavernous chamber. Jewel encrusted pillars soared into the darkness above. A raised dais with a waist-high stone block stood at the far end of the chamber. Tyrell and Nestor cautiously approached it as Galen attacked the mountings of an emerald attached to one of the pillars with his dagger.

  Dark stains covered the stone. “Sacrificial altar,” commented the barbarian. “Complete with blood canals to catch every last drop. Do you think Kellen was brought here?” Tyrell shrugged and looked around the gloomy room.

  “I smell death here. I don’t know if Kellen has seen this room, but the place has definitely been used recently.”

  “Hey, you two,” called Galen. “Come have a look at this.” The other two men rushed to the side wall where Galen studied a huge mural. Various scenes of sacrifice and torture were depicted in graphic detail. “Whoever built this place were not very nice people,” he whispered.

  The gruesome scenes showed priests dressed in black and crimson robes that stood over people in intense agony. Silent screams were preserved on the wall for centuries. The priests raised bloody hands to a looming darkness at the top of the painting where two demonic red eyes looked over the ghastly proceedings with predatory glee.

  “Something is familiar about this,” muttered the young thief. Galen studied the eyes of the unseen dark god. “I’ve seen this before but I can’t put my finger on where.”

  “You probably burgled a demon’s art gallery once upon a time,” said Tyrell.

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Nestor. “We’ve still got a lot of sewer to cover, and I’d like to be well away from here before the next worship service begins.”

  The magical lighting in the chamber suddenly went out, plunging the trio into complete darkness. “You don’t want to leave so soon, do you?” The voice was the hissing snarl of the vampire lord from somewhere above them. “The game is just beginning, little friends. Return to me my list of lairs, and perhaps I’ll let you survive long enough to see the next round.”

  “Which copy would you like,” called Tyrell. “I took the liberty of making several extras in the event that we misplaced the original.” The wizard felt for the magic of the chamber’s lamps. If he could relight them quickly enough, they might just be able to blind Darian long enough to get an attack on him. Galen pressed himself against the wall, preparing to strike at anything that seemed to stealthy to be human. Nestor drew a long dagger from his belt, waiting for the vampire to speak again.

  “How very resourceful of you, mage. Perhaps I underestimated the three of you, but that is a mistake I will not soon repeat. I have lived for cent-....” The vampire’s voice cut off in a sharp gasp of breath after Nestor’s throwing arm pumped his dagger through the air.

  “We weren’t born yesterday either,” he growled. The attack distracted Darian’s magical focus long enough for Tyrell to punch through the vampire’s control. Fueled by the wizard’s art, the magical lights flickered on again. A flurry of movement from above caught the friends’ attention. A thick, white fog flowed into a small pipe near the ceiling. Nestor’s dagger quivered in the mist for a moment, then tumbled towards the floor. The barbarian snatched the blade from the air as it fell, leaping upon the altar stone poised to attack again.

  “We’ve got him on the run,” he roared. “Let’s finish him!”

  “We’ll have to find another way,” said Tyrell. “We can’t follow him through that pipe, even if we could get up to it.”

  “Over here,” called Galen from the corner of the room. “Here’s a passageway that seems to go off in the same direction. Maybe they join up somewhere.” Nestor raced past the younger man with his sword and dagger in hand. Tyrell grabbed Galen and pulled him along. Nestor set a furious pace, the wizard cursing under his breath as the barbarian raced around the corner ahead without them. There was the sudden noise of a collision, followed by two surprised cries.

  “Darian may have set a trap,” puffed the wizard. He spurred himself and the thief onward, and they swung around the corner.

  Nestor lay flat on his back with his weapons out to his sides. Lying a dozen feet away from him was a pale, dark-haired, young woman. She rubbed her shoulder where the warrior had slammed into her. Her clothes were tattered rags, and tears streaked the dirt that covered her face. As Galen and Tyrell slowed down, she pressed herself back against the wall in wide-eyed terror.

  “No, please don’t take me back to him,” she screamed hysterically. She broke down in frantic sobs. “I want to live. Please, just let me go.” Tyrell rushed to her side, kneeling down beside her.

  “You’re in no danger from us, lady. We are no friends of the vampire lord. He is close by though, so we must be quiet. Tell me what happened to you. How were you brought here?”

  The girl wiped her face as her eyes darted to each man with suspicion. Finally, she sighed and grabbed the wizard’s arm in relief. “I was dragged down here by these horrible men who tied me up with the red sashes they wore around their waists.” Nestor and Galen exchanged knowing glances. “They took me to a dark room and left me. I screamed and pounded on the door, but it was useless. Then I thought I was being watched. There was a . . . presence in the room with me. I screamed and pounded louder, but then something grabbed me. I felt pointed teeth on my throat. I tried to fight, but whatever had me was just too strong. Then just as suddenly it stopped and dropped me to the floor. It was like something had interrupted it. It told me in this horrible voice that it would be back for me. Then he would finish what he had started.

  “I felt around in the dark and found a sewer drain pipe that I was able to squeeze into. I scraped and crawled my way through it for hours. When I finally got out I just started wandering these halls looking for an exit.” She clutched and clawed at Tyrell’s shirt as she sobbed. “You have to help me get out of here, please!”

  “Of course. We would never leave an innocent girl down here,” assured Tyrell.

  “Innocent as a rabid karg,” whispered Galen. “That’s Alleyway Elenia. Or Any Way Elenia, as some folks call her. She’s worked the dock quarter for a few years now. She’s every sailor’s favorite port.”

  “Done a bit of seafaring yourself,” asked Nestor. “You sound like you know her well.”

&
nbsp; Galen shook his head. “She also happens to be a very accomplished pickpocket. I learned of her reputations through the guild, not on the streets. I wouldn’t trust her with a lump of sh-.”

  “She’ll have to come with us,” said Tyrell. The wizard hadn’t heard the discussion, but he scowled when he saw Nestor’s smirk. “Anyway, we know we can’t go back the way we came, so she’ll just have to come forward with us.” He took the girl’s hand and held it gently. “We’ll get you to safety. Don’t worry about a thing.” Elenia smiled as tears of gratitude welled up in her eyes.

  “Well,” said Nestor, “if we’re finished here, there is still a vampire for us to catch. If we run, we might still close in on him.” The barbarian resumed his dash down the tunnel. Galen shrugged and chased after him. Tyrell took the girl’s hand, pulling her along behind him as quickly as they could.

  Nestor raced ahead like a charging bull. His mind thought of nothing but attacking Darian. Even when the tunnel forked ahead, he didn’t even stop to consider which direction to go in.

  “Where are you going,” yelled Galen from far behind him.

  “After my instincts,” he called over his shoulder.

  The thief hurried after him, rounding the corner just in time to see the floor open up beneath the warrior’s feet. The trapdoor closed again on its hinge after Nestor had fallen through. Tyrell and Elenia ran up as Galen knelt to inspect the floor. He pushed the door open with his foot and then jammed a dagger into the hinge to hold it open.

  “Nestor, can you hear me?”

  “All too well, lad. I’m fine. Nothing injured but my dignity. The cell’s table helped break my fall.” Tyrell peered over the edge, barely able to see the dim outline of the barbarian below. “By the way, Kellen is here in the cell beside mine. He’s been roughed up a bit, but he’s alive.”