The acrid smell of smoke betrayed the outer watchman’s position even before the globe of his torch was seen pushing against the darkness. Kylac snuffed his own brand and awaited the soldier’s approach. The dark-bearded corporal drew to within three paces of Kylac’s position before turning heel and marching back down the corridor.
Brie tugged at Kylac’s arm. Her gesture bespoke confused irritation. Kylac shrugged free, motioning for patience.
The watchman marched thirty paces, by Kylac’s count, reaching an intersection where he raised his torch to the left in signal. He then turned and repeated his approach.
Again Kylac restrained himself, holding back his anxious friend in the bargain, observing Darkbeard’s path and cadence.
“We’ll have to move quickly,” he hissed at Brie when the watchman turned for a third approach. He slipped from his belt a pair of leather thongs. “Bind him ankle and wrist. Cut strips from his tabard to gag him.”
Brie scowled. “Easier to slit his throat.”
“As you prefer,” Kylac said, and wondered if she truly had it in her.
They were silent for the final fifteen paces. As Darkbeard made his turn, Kylac rose behind him, capturing him in a sleeping hold. The startled soldier resisted for two heartbeats before slumping limply. Kylac eased the body to the ground, then stripped the watchman of cloak and helm, donning them himself.
“He’s a full head taller than you,” Brie observed, when she realized what he intended.
Kylac just scooped up the fallen torch while nodding toward the body, then hastened down the corridor, falling into the proper rhythm of steps as he neared the intersecting tunnel.
He kept his head low while hefting his torch in signal, raising his free hand to his chin as if to rub at a beard. He needn’t have bothered. The signal he received in return was another thirty paces distant, the man who held it scarcely visible in the engulfing blackness. Kylac smirked as he made his turn back down the first corridor, pausing to inspect Brie’s work. Darkbeard’s throat was uncut, his bindings tight. She was still working on the gag, but when he knelt to assist, she elbowed him aside, the task in hand.
He returned to the signal junction. After hefting his torch, he found Brie on his heels. So he passed her his light and padded invisibly down the next corridor, marking the watchman’s patrol path while positioning himself at its near end. When the soldier returned, Kylac disabled him as he had the first, then assumed the man’s route. He left another pair of thongs with the body, and smiled to see them already put to use upon his return. He also found Brie wearing the second man’s cloak and helm, both of which looked ridiculously large on her. Matched with her too-serious expression, he very nearly laughed aloud.
By the time they reached the fourth watchman, their incursion began to strike Kylac as suspiciously easy. Upon disabling the fifth, the nagging thought had blossomed into a genuine concern. As narrow as the chance might be that anyone could find or would attempt to follow Traeger’s company into this subterranean labyrinth, the captain believed he was dealing with the fabled Seax Lunara. Should he not have tightened his defenses accordingly?
But they were too far committed to turn back now. If they had wormed their way into a trap, there was naught but to sidestep its trigger, else respond as they could when it was sprung.
He found the sixth watchman in a stationary post at the top of a descending stair heavily lit by bracketed torches. A voice echoed from deep within, though Kylac could not discern the words. He mimicked the fifth watchman’s signal to the stair sentry, then drew back along the previous route, sharing with Brie what he had seen.
“Well?” Brie whispered.
“If there’s another at the base, we’ll not likely be able to take him silently.”
“Then we do it swiftly. How many are left?”
Kylac couldn’t be sure. “Three at the least. Not more than six, I should hope.”
“No more bindings, then.”
Kylac took a steadying breath, then drew his shortsword. “If it’s the latter, no.”
“We but tread the course they set,” Brie offered, keen to his hesitation.
She waited on his confirmation, so Kylac gave her a nod. “We’ll approach slowly, get as close as we can. Keep your head low.”
He handed her the torch, which she accepted. As they returned to the signal junction, Kylac bolted ahead without her. He was three strides into his sprint—a safe lead on Brie—before the watchman responded.
“Hathen? Krakken’s blazes…”