De Loungville swore. “If the Captain doesn’t get back soon, we may be truly lost in the dark tomorrow, unless that passage he spoke of is nearby. Put out that torch and make sure you have everything needed to light it quickly if there’s any’ trouble. I want two shifts, first four hours and second four; then we walk out of this gods-forsaken hole.”
Erik knew he would be among those sleeping first, so he lay down and tried to get as comfortable as possible. Despite being tired to his bones, he just couldn’t find it easy to sleep in the pitch darkness on rock.
He closed his eyes and heard muttering which told him that the torch had been extinguished; he was not alone in being troubled by the total absence of light.
He kept his eyes closed and turned his mind to pleasant thoughts. He wondered how the harvest at home this year had gone and how the grapes looked. He recalled the growers bragging about a record crop, but that was nothing unusual. You could usually tell if they were just talking to hear themselves talk or if they truly meant it by their manner. The more earnest they were that it was to be a great year, the more you could suppose it wouldn’t be, but if they spoke of the harvest in a matter-of-fact, nearly indifferent way, it would be a great year.
He then wondered how the other young men and women in the village were. He thought about Gwen and regretted he hadn’t gone to the orchard with her on the occasions he might have. Having a woman was a great deal more than he had imagined, and the memory of the whore’s softness roused his flesh despite his fatigue. He thought of Rosalyn and found himself both fascinated and disturbed by remembering her without her clothing. He had seen her numerous times as a child bathing, but seeing her woman’s breasts as she lay before the tree . . . He found the memory now oddly disturbing, as if there must be something wrong to think about how she looked as the result of a rape.
Erik tried to turn over and succeeded only in making himself less comfortable. Maybe he could talk to Nakor about this unsettling memory of Rosalyn; the funny man seemed to know a great deal and perhaps could tell Erik why he was suddenly aroused by such a repulsive memory.
Yet when he thought of that night the rage and anger were distant, and the murder seemed as if it happened to someone else. But those small firm breasts . . .
He groaned slightly and sat up, suddenly disoriented in the darkness. He started to berate himself for being as depraved as any man living when it struck him suddenly there was light coming from ahead in the tunnel. It was faint, but any light would be noticeable in the absolute gloom of the cavern.
He sensed more than saw the form of de Loungville before him and saw that the soldier who was to have been on duty had dozed off. He felt no anger for the man: remaining alert in total darkness was almost impossible. The sound of slow breathing everywhere told Erik he might be the only man remaining awake who was close enough to the head of the column to see the light.
He gently reached past de Loungville and nudged the sentry. The man came awake, saying, “What?”
De Loungville was awake an instant later and also whispered, “What?”
Before the sentry could say anything, Erik said, “Marc thought he saw light ahead, Sergeant. He was asking me if I saw it, too.” Turning to the sentry, he said, “Yes, there is light up there.”
De Loungville said, “Wake the others. Quietly. No torch. First six men come with me.”
They crept forward, and after a few steps, Erik could see it was a moving light, coming from the left, from a passage that intersected the one in which they traveled fifty or so feet farther along. As they neared the passage, it was clear it was rapidly growing brighter, then suddenly de Loungville was motioning for everyone to hug the walls.
The sounds of movement preceded a figure who strode into view, passing through the intersection without a glance right or left. Erik gripped his sheathed sword hilt, ready to pull it free should the need arise.
The creature was a serpent man, dressed in a tunic and leggings rather than trousers, which allowed his short tail to swing freely.
Behind him came two more, larger and dressed in armor. Erik had had a good look at the Saaur, a better look than he would care to repeat, but these creatures were of a different stripe. The tallest of them was smaller than human by a head, and they were sinuous. Erik noticed they seemed slow and deliberate in their movement. He wondered if it might be the chill in the cavern that slowed them, for Nakor had said these creatures were cold-blooded.
Another pair of guards passed through, one glancing in their direction. Erik waited, but the creature moved on without comment or alarm. Erik could only reason that the creature’s night vision had been harmed by the closeness of the torch before it, and that, hugging the walls, the humans were nearly invisible.
Another pair, then another, until a full dozen Pantathians walked by.
De Loungville motioned for the others to wait, then moved to where the light was quickly fading. He hurried back and whispered, “They’re gone.”