Lyrelee looked to Ariakas for a response, and the war shy;rior bowed his head politely. "The pleasure will be ours," he replied.
The shadowarrior's simian face split into a grotesque baring of teeth, which Ariakas took to be a smile. He was vaguely aware of several other shadowy figures falling into step behind them, and he could see at least four of them-including the one who carried his red-bladed sword-walking in front of Vallenswade.
"I must compliment you on your ambushes," Ariakas admitted honestly. "You caught us neatly, twice-and that was a thing I would have sworn could not be done."
Vallenswade flipped his hand in a deprecating gesture. "Do not feel shame-we are at home in the darkness, and know how to use it for our ends. Doubtless, were we on the surface, the advantage would have been yours."
They walked for a long distance through a winding, natural passage in the rock. Ariakas tried to memorize the route back to the lake, but he soon became lost in the maze of crossing corridors, branching pathways, and ascending and descending ramps. Too, he began to develop the conviction that the shadowpeople followed a very roundabout pathway, designed to throw off their direction sense. They passed an unusual stalagmite, and since the unique markings on its surface seemed familiar to him, he judged that they had come this way at least once before.
The warrior reflected in silence for a time. He had been a prisoner once, of ogres, and though he had eventually escaped, he had been very roughly treated. Many other times, he and his men had taken prisoners, and their fate, too, had not been pleasant. He found it astonishing that Vallenswade would treat them with such deferential politeness, almost as if they were honored guests.
What would be their fate? Although he didn't fear immediate execution, he wondered whether the sha shy;dowpeople would ever be inclined to let them go. He suspected not, and he didn't look forward to a life spent in this sunless dungeon-regardless of how friendly and polite his captors were.
"My. companion," Ariakas asked after this long silence. He didn't want to reaffirm that Tale Splintersteel was more like an enemy. "Is he alive?"
Vallenswade looked at him reprovingly. "Of course. We are not butchers. Even though he did kick one of my warriors quite ignobly, breaking his knee, we see no point in vengeful retribution."
"May I see him?" pressed the human warrior. Now the shadowarrior sighed. "That, I'm afraid, will not be so easily arranged. Indeed, I could not allow it. Only the councilors could permit such a thing."
"Who are the councilors?" asked Ariakas. "Are you taking us to them?"
"I have been summoned," Vallenswade replied, as if there were no more to the question than that.
Ariakas flashed a look at the priestess, seeing that Lyrelee remained alert to their surroundings. She stud shy;ied every side passage, every branching corridor, and the warrior could only hope that her memory proved better than his.
"Do you know that you dwell in the Sanctified Cata shy;combs of a mighty temple?" asked Ariakas, changing the tack of his conversation.
"We know that some humans think as you say. How shy;ever, we have lived here longer than the temple has stood, and if these corridors are sanctified in the name of your goddess, she has not made the fact known to us."
Ariakas wanted to threaten or bluster, but he sensed that any declarations of imminent vengeance would fall on deaf ears. Even if the high priest sent a well-armed expedition after them, it seemed unlikely that priests and warriors would be able to follow the path of the shadow-people … unless someone thought to check the wharf, as they had! The thought gave him a flash of renewed hope, until he heard soggy footsteps sloshing in the corridor behind them.
A soaked shadowarrior approached Vallenswade and spoke to him in long, guttural phrases. The chief warrior nodded and turned to Ariakas. "We have taken the pre shy;caution of returning the two boats to the temple wharf. After all, we have no need of them-it was only your … companion, the dwarf, who had difficulty with the water."
"I see," replied Ariakas, hoping disappointment didn't show on his face.
"But come," invited Vallenswade. "There is more that I would show you."
The two prisoners followed the great, shaggy warrior until the Shilo-Thahn stopped and raised his face to the ceiling. His voice rippled through a long, wailing cry-a sound that sent shivers down the warrior's spine.
Immediately afterward a panel of apparently solid rock in the corridor wall slid silently outward. Following Vallenswade, Ariakas passed through the door, with Lyrelee and their guards following.
The first sensation to strike the warrior was the moist, verdant fertility of the air, like garden soil freshly turned after a rain. The chamber was huge, swiftly swallowing the feeble emanations of his magical light. Nearby he saw clumps of fungi, gathered artistically around smoothly paved paths. The Shilo-Thahn warrior started along one of these walkways, leading the prisoners into the huge cavern. As they walked, Ariakas was astounded at the lush beds of huge fungi around them. The plants grew in amazing variety, pale and dark, bulbous and gangly. In clusters they sprouted from all parts of the cavern. Many of them towered higher than his head, and these seemed to be the source of the meaty, rich scent in the air.
Occasionally he saw bright eyes reflecting from the darkness, and he guessed that numerous shadowpeople
were scattered about this huge cavern. Probably their lair, he decided. He tried to estimate the number of the ape creatures around him, but couldn't come up with a realistic approximation.
Vallenswade halted. In the illumination of his gem-stone, Ariakas saw that they had reached a large, circular clearing. None of the cavern walls were visible around him, and when he tipped his head back the ceiling was swallowed by the darkness as well. Stone benches formed a pair of concentric rings around the clearing, which was surrounded by a virtual wall of the tall fun shy;gus clumps.
Several other shadowpeople sat on the benches, and as he cast the light around, Ariakas was able to form a gen shy;eralized impression of these strange creatures. All of them were covered with fur. They seemed to average about seven feet in height, though the lightness to their frames suggested even the large males probably weighed less than Ariakas. Their protruding muzzles and over shy;hanging brows gave them a simian appearance, but the warrior saw many differences in shading, facial features, posture, and mannerism.
He noticed that all the shadowpeople seemed to have the long, loose membrane connecting their arms and wrists to their legs and hips. The skin was a smooth, supple surface that folded neatly against the creature's side, except when the hand was extended. Then the flap swung loose, an elegant wing draped like the regal robe of an imperial monarch.
"These are the councilors," Vallenswade said as Aria shy;kas and Lyrelee followed him into the center of the circled benches. The warrior saw perhaps a dozen shadowpeople seated around them. As a rule, these looked slighter, a trifle more frail perhaps, than the warriors who had cap shy;tured them. He saw several with fringes of gray whiskers, and at least one who stooped forward in his seat like a very old man. The seated Shilo-Thahn each regarded Ariakas with intense concentration, but if the dark-furred faces betrayed any hint of emotion, the warrior couldn't tell. Still, he felt an intimidating sense of power in these councilors.
His reaction was to stand straight, slowly letting his eyes meet those of the gathered audience. At the same time he noted Vallenswade taking a seat on the closest bench, while the other warriors stood at the outside of the circle. Ariakas made careful note of the Shilo-Thahn who held his crimson-bladed sword.
Why do you bring the dwarf here, Human?
The question hit him with shocking force. He knew that he hadn't heard anything, yet the interrogative could not have been more clearly enunciated. He frowned at Lyrelee, but she returned his stare with a curious lift to her eyebrows-obviously the message had reached him alone.