Glancing up at the faint light of the hole above, Dash oriented himself. “Get over here.”
The men gathered near him. “Gustaf, put your right hand on my right shoulder.” He felt the mercenary’s strong hand take a grip of his tunic. “Talwin, do the same to Gustaf, and Reese bring up the rear. Listen for my instructions.” Dash put his right hand on the wall and said, “Let’s go, slowly. And if you lose your grip, sing out.”
They moved off into the gloom.
Jimmy turned suddenly and put his hand over Malar’s mouth as he let the torch fall to the stone walkway next to the sewer. As he hoped, the torch began to fail and flicker, allowing Jimmy to step on it, putting out the light. Malar had the presence of mind not to be too shocked by the move, and he endured standing there with Jimmy’s hand over his mouth.
When Jimmy removed it, Malar heard what Jimmy had, men moving cautiously down another tunnel, nearby. Whispering as quietly as possible, Jimmy said, “Someone’s coming.”
Malar nodded.
They stood motionless, listening to the faint sound of men moving slowly. Then one spoke. His voice was muffled and distant and nothing of what was said came through, but Jimmy would have bet a purse of gold they were invaders on patrol. Something about the quality of the speech hinted at an accent. They waited until the sound died out, as the strangers moved away.
Jimmy knelt and felt around in the dark until he located the torch. It was still hot to the touch. He struck a spark with flint and got the flame going again and said, “We may have to lose this if we run into another patrol.”
“You mean walk around down here blind!” said Malar, obviously upset at the thought.
“I know my way around here pretty well,” said Jimmy, expressing a confidence he didn’t feel. “Besides, if we’re apprehended by the invaders, we’re either dead men or prisoners, and I’d rather take my chances retracing our route back to the other side of the wall than those two choices.”
“Agreed, yet your words fill me with little confidence, young sir.”
Jimmy said nothing, but glanced around the corner, making sure that no one had quietly snuck up on them. “This way,” he said, leading Malar toward a large yawning tunnel entrance that opened up across from where they stood. This required them to step down into the filthy water. They slogged through the slowly moving mass of floating char, and less savory debris, and entered the blackness.
Dash felt fingers dig into his shoulder as the sound of men echoed from a distance. In the blackness they couldn’t tell from which quarter the sound originated. Nerves were frayed and Dash was concerned one of the three men would panic. Gustaf seemed solid, if nervous, Talwin was quiet, but Reese was given to blurting out pointless things, either questioning how much farther they’d have to move in the gloom, or expressing his apprehensions.
There were places along the way where light came down from above, faint cracks in the street above, or a broken culvert admitting some illumination. Dash was always surprised how bright these areas looked after complete darkness, but knew it was an illusion. He could only see a dozen yards or so on either side of a source of light, and once past, they fell back into a gloom darker than any night he had endured.
The first place he had hoped to find some torches or a lantern according to his grandfather’s description had provided no secret cache of useful items. If there had been a secret stone in the corner he couldn’t find it. Not the least bit immodest, Dash knew it wasn’t there, for if it had been, he would have found it.
The second location was already empty. Someone had emptied it. Dash didn’t know if it had been stripped of its contents during the fall of the city or days, even hours before he reached it.
He was leading the men northward as much as he could, knowing his best chance for escape was around the area formerly known as Fishtown. It was one of the few places in Krondor you could enter the bay and with a little swimming find yourself outside the walls of the city. Dash didn’t know if the other men could swim, and for the most part he didn’t care. While he wanted to see these three men to safety if possible, he’d willingly sell them out to get his information back to the Prince.
Keeping one hand on the wall, he led them deeper into the darkness.
Jimmy motioned toward the faint light. Malar nodded, whispering, “A way out, young sir?”
“Perhaps. Boost me up on your shoulders so I can take a look.”
Malar knelt, and when Jimmy put his left boot on the servant’s shoulders, Malar stood, grabbing Jimmy’s ankles to support him as he was lifted to a point just below the light. Jimmy fought for balance a moment, but Malar kept his motion steady, and Jimmy kept his position as he grabbed a support in the floor above him to keep from falling.