‘If you do not free Obkhar, you have not kept your part of the bargain, human. You can fare as well as you may without our aid.’
Gorath said, ‘Come along, Owyn. We have a distance to walk.’
Without looking back, he led the human away and set out for the mines.
Venutrier was a huge man, gross fat barely contained by a massive belt he wore around his waist. He looked over at Owyn and said, ‘Where’d you catch him?’
‘I didn’t,’ said Gorath. ‘He’s a runaway kitchen whelp from the Kingdom who thought to come fight for gold. Well, he couldn’t play knucklebones and it turns out he can’t pay his gambling debts.’
‘He’s a bit scrawny,’ said the slaver. ‘Come with me.’ Without waiting to see if Gorath followed, he walked toward the mine entrance.
They entered the mine and Venutrier asked, ‘Who are you, warrior?’
‘I am Gorath of … the Balakhar, from the Green Heart.’
‘Not from around here?’ said Venutrier. ‘Good. We could use a strapping worker such as yourself.’
Guards lowered spears and suddenly Gorath and Owyn were surrounded. ‘Had you been from here, my friend, you would have known that no one comes without allies to my mines. Lord Delekhan has ordered an impossible amount of naphtha for the invasion of the Kingdom and I need workers. Get them below.’
Gorath and Owyn were hustled below by the guards and taken to the second level of the mines, as Irmelyn had predicted. Then they were taken to a large empty cavern.
One of the guards lingered as the others walked away, and he whispered, ‘Stay here.’
They remained alone for a period, the darkness cut through by only one faint light, a lantern cleverly fashioned with a thin transparent membrane covering the flame. ‘I don’t expect we’re going to see a lot of torches around here,’ observed Owyn.
‘If there are fumes of naphtha in the tunnels, I expect you’re correct.’
Shortly a guard returned, carrying the bundles taken from Owyn and Gorath. He also carried a third bundle. ‘Here. Take that tunnel there. You will be facing west. Find your friend and then go down to where you hear water. You must swim out.’
The guard vanished and Gorath picked up the new bundle. It contained three odd-looking devices, obviously designed to wear over the nose and mouth. They gathered up their remaining possessions and departed.
The tunnel to the west went downhill, and abruptly Gorath stopped.
‘What is it?’ asked Owyn.
‘We must be under the old city of Sar-Isbandia.’
Owyn didn’t know what to say.
Gorath continued walking. Soon they came to a large gallery, where the sound of work could be heard. A single guard moved idly around the huge gallery, overseeing the wretches labouring to lift buckets of the thick oil that ran through the earth, to bubble up to the surface.
Owyn’s eyes teared and he said, ‘I can see why they need the mask if it gets much worse than this.’
Gorath said, ‘Look for one of my people who wears his hair in a high fall, and who has a scar running down his face from forehead to chin.’
When the guard was at the farthest point in his rounds, they slipped through the main gallery to another tunnel. Those who laboured hardly spared them a glance, intent as they were upon their own miseries.
Not seeing Obkhar, Gorath said, ‘Let us continue to the west.’
They moved down a long corridor that turned into another gallery, and in that one laboured a small band of moredhel.
Owyn looked around and said, ‘I don’t see any guards.’
Wiping away tears, Gorath said, ‘I think they linger near the fresher air at the ends of the tunnels. Where would these prisoners flee to?’
‘Nowhere, Gorath,’ came a voice from behind them.
They spun to be confronted by a large, gaunt moredhel who possessed the scar Gorath had described. ‘Obkhar!’
Looking Gorath up and down, Obkhar said, ‘At first I thought the fumes had finally taken my senses, but I see they have not. How is it you are here? I heard that your head had been spitted on a stake outside Sar-Sargoth.’
Gorath folded his arms across his chest. ‘Not all who remain in the Northlands willingly bend to Delekhan’s will. And not all who rebel die. I had help in escaping, as you do now. Others died so that I might win free.’
‘You have a grave debt to repay.’
‘All the more reason to see Delekhan’s reign ended, Obkhar! He shall pay blood debt to me and mine.’
‘Most of my kin are now in the Green Heart, but should you raise your banner against Delekhan, Gorath, we will come to your cause.’
Gorath smiled. ‘So you at last forgive me for giving you that scar?’
Laughing, Obkhar said, ‘Never. I still intend to kill you for that, some day, but for the time being we need to be allies.’
Owyn produced the masks. ‘Where is the tunnel of fumes?’
‘This way,’ said Obkhar, leading them down a side tunnel.
They reached a point where the fumes threatened to suffocate them, and Obkhar said, ‘Put on your mask. They will help your eyes not at all, but you will be able to breathe. We have a long way to go and an icy swim at the end of it. The tunnel out is half flooded, and leads to a branch of the River Isbandi.’
They put on the masks and Owyn was surprised to discover they worked. The fumes burned his eyes, but by blinking rapidly he could see. He almost gave Obkhar a heart attack when he illuminated himself and his companions with his magic. The old moredhel chieftain said, ‘For a moment I thought you had struck a flame, and we were all about to be incinerated.’
They reached the tunnel that was flooded and entered icy water that rose to their knees. As they walked they moved deeper and soon they were up to their chests. Obkhar signalled and ducked his head underwater. Owyn and Gorath did likewise. They felt a tug and suddenly were swept into an underground stream.
Kicking hard, Owyn followed and when he came up, his head bumped stone. Fighting down panic, he moved a short distance away and his head broke clear of water. Obkhar said, ‘You can take your mask off.’
‘Good,’ replied Owyn. ‘Because mine came off underwater.’
Something that may have been a chuckle came from Gorath. Obkhar said, ‘We have less than a mile to swim.’
They set off, Owyn fearing he would be pulled down by the weight of his sodden clothing, but he mustered the strength to continue. Suddenly above he saw stars and he realized they had come outside.
A short way down the river torches burned and when they swam toward them, voices softly called out.
‘It is I, Irmelyn.’
They were helped out of the water, taken to a fire and given heavy robes to wear while their clothes were dried. ‘Any alarm?’ asked Obkhar.
‘None so far,’ said a moredhel unknown to Owyn. ‘The guards we bribed will say nothing. It may go unnoticed for a very long time that you are not there. Many die in the mines and their bodies lie unnoticed in tunnels.’
