03-13-2003, 02:59 AM
"Chapter 4: Through the Shadows, Darkly"
Angeleyes paused as she pushed the door handle down. She was unfamiliar with the layout of the Palace's dungeons, having never been given a tour, but the lack of light visible under the bottom of the door suggested another passageway. She whispered over her shoulder to Shadow.
"Stick to the left wall, move slow, leave the torch, and lock the door behind us." She handed the key ring back to her summoned double.
Crouching down, she pushed the bottom of the door forward slowly, paused, and then gradually swung it open all the way. The flickering torch in the wall sconce behind her provided enough light to reveal rows of neatly stacked wooden crates, a hanful of armor racks complete with suits of chainmail, stacks of shields and other armaments along one wall, and rows of barrels along the opposite wall. Stepping into the room, she heard the door click shut and was plunged back into near total darknesss. The faint glimmer of light ahead and to her right, up in the ceiling, hinted at a trap door. Stealth was once again in order.
With considerable care she moved along the wall to her left, groping out with her left hand to avoid tripping over the armor racks her brief inspection had taken in. Shadow disappeared from her side and was doubtless already at the crack in the door, a mere step away for a creature adept at shadow walking. Angeleyes had to climb over a few crates, in one case bumping her head on the cellar's ceiling beams, before reaching the far end of the room and the foot of a flight of stairs that led up to the faint crack of light. Crawling slowly up the steps, she sensed Shadow once again on her left. Feeling more naked without her arms and armor than she had felt hanging unclothed in the manacles, she grimaced in frustration, gripped Durga's boot knife a bit more firmly, and then slipped it gently into the crack to feel around.
A methodical search of the crack's track revealed it to be the hinged end of a trap door. Inspecting the rest of the door by feel and such light as leaked in through the thin crack, she found the ring, braced her feet against the middle step, and slowly pushed up with her legs.
The door budged slightly, then stopped as a bar or latch above resisted her attempt to raise the door. She whispered again to her shadow.
"Slowly through the crack, open the bolt, then melt." Shadow flowed by her and away.
A chill of apprehension shot through her spine as the upper latch slid out with a few creaks and small squeals, then she tried her shoulder again. The trapdoor mover up smoothely enough, revealing more barrels and boxes.
Now or never, thought Angeleyes to herself. She opened the trap further and then belly crawled out of the opening, catching the door on her toe before she curled back to gently lower the trapdoor silently into place. One slow breath later, she slipped the bar back into place with measured caution, grinning in satisfaction as it made no sound under her expert fingers.
She peered around the barrels to inspect the dimly lit surroundings, the source of illumination a grate high on the opposite wall through which a shaft of sunlight penetrated into what was yet another store room. Closing here eyes, she heard the faint sounds of shallow breathing, almost the same rhythm as a sleeper makes, and then sensed Shadow at her side once again.
Unmistakeably male voices started talking beyond a door to her right, though the rumbling tone and the muffling of wood and bronze made the words indecipherable. Moving swiftly across the room, her eyes acclimating to the massive increase in light, she nearly tripped over a small body curled up just behind the door.
A small body with a head full or curly blond hair lay napping. Her heart raced n anticipation. She gently took hold of the child's shoulder and turned his body. She gasped in relief as she beheld the sleeping features of her nephew, Mikal. Tears of joy sprung into her eyes as the boy stirred and then opened his eyes. His own eyes widened in surprise, then he tried to roll away from her. She quickly grabbed him but could not stop his plaintive squawk of frustration.
"No fair," he squealed, "You were supposed to count to one hundred before you came looking for me, no fair!" He stood up and then, as his head cleared the cobwebs of sleep, stared at her as the cloak fell back from her face to reveal her features. She smiled, hoping to reassure him of her identity.
Voices beyond the door broke up the reunion.
"Hah, I think I hear the little scamp," laughed a deep voiced man. "Sounds like him back there in the store room. Let's go roust him and set him to the task!"
The merry lilt in the man's voice was lost on Angeleyes as she dove behind a pair of barrels, determined to remain unseen. Shadow melted into the darkness behind the door, the edges of her blades barely discernable at her hips.
"Aunt Occhi, is that you?" queried Michael. "Are you playing hide and seek too?"
Confusion flooded into her brain as the door latch creaked open and a large bearded man in chainmail entered to let more daylight break into the room. A broad grin on his face, he turned to shout into the adjoining room.
"I found him, Jemali, standing here and talking to a shaft of sunlight!" A growling laugh burst out, followed by the stomp of iron shod boots as a second guard strode toward the small room.
Hide and seek with the guards? What in the Blazing Light was going on? She glanced in horror as she saw Shadow raise her left blade for a strike and blurted out a command, panic stricken that another dead body would foil her escape plan.
"Nolumo!"
The whole room went dark as the Shadow dissolved and grew into an enormous, spreading cloak of darkness that obscured the light from both the doorway and the grating. Angeleyes dove forward, over the nearest barrel, to Mikal's last position and was rewarded by his "Oof" of surprise as she tackled him. Curling into a ball, she rolled past the first guard's legs and out into the adjoining room as he exploded with invective.
"What in Greiz' name is this!!" He thundered
She felt a jarring physical contact as the second guard stumbled over her in a clash of metal and further cursing, then sprang to her feet, bumped into a desk, and hurtled to her right where she crashed through a door that opened outward. Her momentum carried her out and suddenly she was falling, tumbling, down a short flight of steps and landing with a dusty thump in the strangely shadowed streets of Lut Gholein, the buildings around her identifying the location she had just left.
Greiz command post stood behind her, now filling with a cacophony of cursing and the ringing of drawn swords, a host of voices expressing their surprise at the dousing of sunlight at mid day.
She picked up her nephew and ran, hurtling down the cobblestone street toward Fara's weapons shop, hoping beyond hope that the cloak of shadows would last long enough for her to get a few large bodies between her and the inevitable pursuit of yet more mercenaries . . .
To be continued
Angeleyes paused as she pushed the door handle down. She was unfamiliar with the layout of the Palace's dungeons, having never been given a tour, but the lack of light visible under the bottom of the door suggested another passageway. She whispered over her shoulder to Shadow.
"Stick to the left wall, move slow, leave the torch, and lock the door behind us." She handed the key ring back to her summoned double.
Crouching down, she pushed the bottom of the door forward slowly, paused, and then gradually swung it open all the way. The flickering torch in the wall sconce behind her provided enough light to reveal rows of neatly stacked wooden crates, a hanful of armor racks complete with suits of chainmail, stacks of shields and other armaments along one wall, and rows of barrels along the opposite wall. Stepping into the room, she heard the door click shut and was plunged back into near total darknesss. The faint glimmer of light ahead and to her right, up in the ceiling, hinted at a trap door. Stealth was once again in order.
With considerable care she moved along the wall to her left, groping out with her left hand to avoid tripping over the armor racks her brief inspection had taken in. Shadow disappeared from her side and was doubtless already at the crack in the door, a mere step away for a creature adept at shadow walking. Angeleyes had to climb over a few crates, in one case bumping her head on the cellar's ceiling beams, before reaching the far end of the room and the foot of a flight of stairs that led up to the faint crack of light. Crawling slowly up the steps, she sensed Shadow once again on her left. Feeling more naked without her arms and armor than she had felt hanging unclothed in the manacles, she grimaced in frustration, gripped Durga's boot knife a bit more firmly, and then slipped it gently into the crack to feel around.
A methodical search of the crack's track revealed it to be the hinged end of a trap door. Inspecting the rest of the door by feel and such light as leaked in through the thin crack, she found the ring, braced her feet against the middle step, and slowly pushed up with her legs.
The door budged slightly, then stopped as a bar or latch above resisted her attempt to raise the door. She whispered again to her shadow.
"Slowly through the crack, open the bolt, then melt." Shadow flowed by her and away.
A chill of apprehension shot through her spine as the upper latch slid out with a few creaks and small squeals, then she tried her shoulder again. The trapdoor mover up smoothely enough, revealing more barrels and boxes.
Now or never, thought Angeleyes to herself. She opened the trap further and then belly crawled out of the opening, catching the door on her toe before she curled back to gently lower the trapdoor silently into place. One slow breath later, she slipped the bar back into place with measured caution, grinning in satisfaction as it made no sound under her expert fingers.
She peered around the barrels to inspect the dimly lit surroundings, the source of illumination a grate high on the opposite wall through which a shaft of sunlight penetrated into what was yet another store room. Closing here eyes, she heard the faint sounds of shallow breathing, almost the same rhythm as a sleeper makes, and then sensed Shadow at her side once again.
Unmistakeably male voices started talking beyond a door to her right, though the rumbling tone and the muffling of wood and bronze made the words indecipherable. Moving swiftly across the room, her eyes acclimating to the massive increase in light, she nearly tripped over a small body curled up just behind the door.
A small body with a head full or curly blond hair lay napping. Her heart raced n anticipation. She gently took hold of the child's shoulder and turned his body. She gasped in relief as she beheld the sleeping features of her nephew, Mikal. Tears of joy sprung into her eyes as the boy stirred and then opened his eyes. His own eyes widened in surprise, then he tried to roll away from her. She quickly grabbed him but could not stop his plaintive squawk of frustration.
"No fair," he squealed, "You were supposed to count to one hundred before you came looking for me, no fair!" He stood up and then, as his head cleared the cobwebs of sleep, stared at her as the cloak fell back from her face to reveal her features. She smiled, hoping to reassure him of her identity.
Voices beyond the door broke up the reunion.
"Hah, I think I hear the little scamp," laughed a deep voiced man. "Sounds like him back there in the store room. Let's go roust him and set him to the task!"
The merry lilt in the man's voice was lost on Angeleyes as she dove behind a pair of barrels, determined to remain unseen. Shadow melted into the darkness behind the door, the edges of her blades barely discernable at her hips.
"Aunt Occhi, is that you?" queried Michael. "Are you playing hide and seek too?"
Confusion flooded into her brain as the door latch creaked open and a large bearded man in chainmail entered to let more daylight break into the room. A broad grin on his face, he turned to shout into the adjoining room.
"I found him, Jemali, standing here and talking to a shaft of sunlight!" A growling laugh burst out, followed by the stomp of iron shod boots as a second guard strode toward the small room.
Hide and seek with the guards? What in the Blazing Light was going on? She glanced in horror as she saw Shadow raise her left blade for a strike and blurted out a command, panic stricken that another dead body would foil her escape plan.
"Nolumo!"
The whole room went dark as the Shadow dissolved and grew into an enormous, spreading cloak of darkness that obscured the light from both the doorway and the grating. Angeleyes dove forward, over the nearest barrel, to Mikal's last position and was rewarded by his "Oof" of surprise as she tackled him. Curling into a ball, she rolled past the first guard's legs and out into the adjoining room as he exploded with invective.
"What in Greiz' name is this!!" He thundered
She felt a jarring physical contact as the second guard stumbled over her in a clash of metal and further cursing, then sprang to her feet, bumped into a desk, and hurtled to her right where she crashed through a door that opened outward. Her momentum carried her out and suddenly she was falling, tumbling, down a short flight of steps and landing with a dusty thump in the strangely shadowed streets of Lut Gholein, the buildings around her identifying the location she had just left.
Greiz command post stood behind her, now filling with a cacophony of cursing and the ringing of drawn swords, a host of voices expressing their surprise at the dousing of sunlight at mid day.
She picked up her nephew and ran, hurtling down the cobblestone street toward Fara's weapons shop, hoping beyond hope that the cloak of shadows would last long enough for her to get a few large bodies between her and the inevitable pursuit of yet more mercenaries . . .
To be continued
Cry 'Havoc' and let slip the Men 'O War!
In War, the outcome is never final. --Carl von Clausewitz--
Igitur qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum
John 11:35 - consider why.
In Memory of Pete
In War, the outcome is never final. --Carl von Clausewitz--
Igitur qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum
John 11:35 - consider why.
In Memory of Pete