“The Old Ones created entire peoples to use as their tools,” said Karnea. “The dwarves were their builders.”
“An Old One once told me they performed other functions,” Kormak said. “That they were record keepers and lawyers and weapon-smiths.”
“They doubtless did all those things. They were the most trusted of the servant races, and among the most intelligent. It is written that they were the most beloved and the most loyal.”
“And yet they rebelled,” said Kormak. “Like most of the subject races.”
“Their masters turned to the Shadow,” said Karnea. “Some of them, at least, and there was war. The Old Ones battled against each other, and their followers and their children were drawn into the conflict. Eraclius of Anacreon claimed the servants lost faith in their masters and turned against them.”
As she was speaking a distant drumbeat started, loud enough to be heard even above the sounds of the city. It pulsed on, rhythmic and sinister, as they walked.
“What is that?” Karnea asked.
“I am guessing those bat riders have found some of their kinfolk,” said Sasha. “I’ve heard that sound before. It means they will be hunting for us soon.”
“It looks like they know we are here then,” said Kormak. “We’d best get as far away from this bridge as we can, before they come back in strength.”
They lengthened their strides. There was no more conversation as they marched deeper into the endless darkness.
The shadows skittered away from the everglow lantern. The beat of the drumming pounded its way into their consciousness. Sasha and Karnea exchanged scared looks. Boreas’s face was a blank mask, expressionless, but the muscles of his jawline were tight and the corners of his eyes were creased. His fingers were white around the handle of his warhammer.
Kormak understood what they were feeling. He had seen ruins before, some almost as vast as this and he had marched through abandoned cities, but the absence of light and the feeling of being deep underground, amid the works of creatures who had walked this land before the coming of men, pressed down on his soul. It was an awful feeling to be so far beneath the ground and so far from the Holy Sun’s light, like being buried alive in a city-sized tomb.
In the distance a dire wolf howled. The call was answered and was the start of a chorus of wolf cries that echoed through the whole city. It was as if thousands of the creatures were out there, prowling through the shadows, seeking their trail. A look from Karnea told him that the same thought had struck them both at once.
“If they go to the bridge they will pick up our scent,” Karnea said.
“They don’t even need to do that,” said Boreas. “They just need to cut across our trail and follow it.”
Kormak felt his heart start to beat faster. They could easily be trapped underground by packs of hungry wolves and hordes of angry goblins. If the raiders had sent scouts to the bridge to look for a trail, they were already cut off. He could see the others were all looking at him for guidance. If the bat riders returned they would surely be noticed. They were not going to be able to slip through the city undetected, after all. It was what he had feared might happen but there seemed no point in casting about for blame now.
“There’s no going back from here,” he said. “Is there another way back from the Forge Quarter?”
“The only way out I know is at the gate or the sally port above it that we came in through,” Sasha said. “But there are alternate ways to it.”
Her expression told him that she already knew exactly how small their chance was of keeping ahead of the wolves and ever getting back to the surface but she was putting a brave face on things.
“We need to go on anyway,” Karnea said. “If we are to find what we came for.”
“I admire your optimism,” said Sasha.
“You sure you can get us there?” Boreas asked.
“If the goblins don’t eat us first,” she said. She gave a brief humourless smile as if something had just occurred to her.
“If we can get to the Bridge of Nets, we’ll have a better chance,” said Sasha.
“Why?” Kormak asked.
“It’s narrower, only a couple of them at a time will be able to get at us. We can maybe hold them there.”
“How far?”
“A long way.”
“Then let’s get going,” he said. “Run!”
He broke into a trot and saw the others do the same. It was not easy to keep up a good pace while carrying heavy packs but fear was a wonderful motivator. They ran until the breath rasped from their lungs
Kormak’s knees started to ache. He cursed the way age was creeping up on him. There had been a time when he could have made a run like this and fought a pitched battle at the end of the day but that had been twenty years ago. Even ten years before this would all have been so much easier. Now the weight of the pack tore at his shoulders like the claws of a beast. His shirt and britches were soaked with sweat. The two women did not look as if they were in any better condition. Only Boreas showed no sign of physical strain yet. Kormak envied him his youth and his fitness. He forced his legs to move and found he was moving in time to the drumbeats.