The smell grew worse, but she forced herself to endure it. She knew from experience that she would soon grow used to the stench. Marrika had traveled these dank, filthy, subterranean paths before, as had most of the thieves of Braedon. The tunnels made for wonderful ways of getting around guards and search parties, and more than a few corpses of those who had "disappeared" had found their way to these surroundings, to be washed out to sea and never heard from again.
Her boots squelched ankle-deep in filth; the dirty water reached to the middle of her calves. It was pitch dark, save for the faint square over her head. That would shortly be remedied, for no sooner had Marrika landed safely than Khem lowered a bundle. Marrika grasped it and unwrapped it. Thick beeswax candles-donated from the temple of Vengeance-revealed themselves to her questing fingers. There was something else, too-a small box carefully wrapped in fabric. Marrika tucked the candles in her pouch to free her hands and, working by touch, opened the little box. Nestled inside, a small ember glowed steadily. She smiled to herself, then lit a single candle.
She lifted the burning taper and moved it back and forth across her face, signaling that she was ready for Freylis to descend. She watched as the big man prepared himself, shifting the unconscious young woman over one shoulder and anchoring her with a meaty arm. With the other, he grasped the rope in his leather-gloved hand and slid down. Marrika steadied him as he hit, taking care that the girl didn't fall into the muck. Marrika didn't want her injured-not yet.
There was a groaning, scraping sound as Khem, alone, slowly forced the unwieldy grate back into its place. Marrika didn't wait for the familiar clang to indicate that he had succeeded. In silence, she moved forward, lighting a second candle to help them see better. Behind her, Freylis followed.
They did not speak. From time to time, Marrika heard voices on the surface. At such moments, they would pause, shrinking back against the walls, shielding the lights as best they could. When the voices faded, they continued. Once, they heard the telltale jangle and clatter of armed guards hastening overhead. They spoke quickly, in low voices. Marrika strained to catch their words.
"Vandaris… search everywhere… reward."
Heat surged through Marrika, the heat of a triumph about to be tasted. By now Pedric must have revived, have told the sad, sad story of beauteous Lorinda's dreadful abduction. The pain was beginning. She glanced over at the still bundle in Freylis's arms.
"Thank you, Lorinda. You've made this all possible."
The tunnels became labyrinthine, but Marrika knew them well and pressed onward. By the smells and type of refuse they encountered, she could tell where she was. They passed between the redstained, fetid walls of the butchers, the multicolored walls of the weavers' shops, and perhaps worst of all, trod carefully through the acidic puddles of fermented bran, lime, and animal dung that marked the tanner's workshop.
A soft moan came from behind Marrika. She whirled just in time to see the bundle borne by Freylis move. Marrika cursed softly. Lorinda was starting to awaken, and they were still far from the site.
"Hold her," she snapped, then turned and quickened her pace. Filth splashed up and stained her breeches, but she paid it no heed. Lorinda was really beginning to struggle now, and Freylis snapped angrily at the frightened girl.
The smell of the shops began to fade. Slightly more pleasant scents reached Marrika's nose — scented bathwater mixed with the ubiquitous odor of chamber pots, the last lingering bits of incense from a ritual. They were almost there.
Lorinda, gagged but vocal, was fighting. "Quiet, curse you!" came Freylis's voice. There was a muffled sound of fist on flesh.
"Don't hurt her," ordered Marrika, "we want her awake and aware."
There it was, up ahead, a dim square of light crisscrossed by the shadows cast by the iron bars. Marrika stumbled to a halt, waved the two candles she carried as a signal. She was rewarded by the sound of the grate being moved. Turning around, she gazed at Freylis.
"Put her down. Cut her bonds."
Freylis gawped. "What?"
"You can't climb up with her fighting you like that. We'll have to haul her up separately."
Freylis cocked his big, shaggy head to one side and considered. Marrika thought that a dog understood things faster than Freylis did, but eventually the big thief nodded. He dropped the girl down unceremoniously and began unwinding her from the blanket.
Lorinda kicked and struggled. "Quiet, girl, we're trying to untie you," snapped Marrika.
The blanket fell off and Lorinda shot a frightened gaze at Marrika. Even trussed up like a hare, sprawled in filth, Lorinda Vandaris was beautiful. She heard and understood, and suddenly ceased her struggles. Freylis took out his dagger and sliced the ropes that bound her. Seizing her upper arm, he hauled her to her feet. The dagger pressed at her throat. Lorinda froze, panting, her eyes wide with fear.
"Good girl," Marrika said sarcastically. Confident that Freylis had the situation in hand — terrorizing was something that Freylis did exceptionally well-Marrika turned her attention to getting out.
The thieves above had moved the grate out of the way, and she could see the shadow of someone peering down. She squinted, trying to make out the shape, and again recognized Khem. Surprised pleasure filled her. Khem had only been assigned to help them get down. Others had agreed to meet her and Freylis near the temple, but apparently Khem was enjoying himself enough to show up here as well.
"Awake," she hissed, hoping her voice carried without being overly loud. They were all still in danger of discovery. Khem shook his head and put a hand to his ear, indicating that she should speak louder.
"She's awake!" Marrika repeated, pitching her voice louder. This time Khem nodded his comprehension and disappeared from her view. He returned a moment later with others, then waved his arm in a send her up gesture.
"How strong are you, girl?" asked Marrika, her lips pursed as her eyes roamed over the girl's slim body. "Can you climb up?"
Lorinda's large-eyed gaze flickered from Marrika's hard face to the rope. "I'm strong, but I–I don't think I can climb up the rope."
Marrika swore casually, enjoying the fact that Lorinda winced at the crude word. "Come here, then. We'll tie it around your waist and haul you up."
When the girl hesitated, Freylis pushed her forward. She stumbled and fell face-first into the swirling, waste-clogged water. Marrika watched her coldly as she struggled to her feet. Oh, she was enjoying this. What would Pedric think of his aristocratic lady-love now, with dung on her face and urine in her hair? She felt a smile curve her lips and she reminded herself that the fun was only just beginning.
Lorinda straightened, and stepped forward with an unexpected dignity. Marrika's smile ebbed. The girl stood obediently as Marrika wound the sturdy rope about her waist and under the curve of her buttocks.
"My father will pay whatever you ask," said Lorinda quietly.
Unable to help herself, Marrika backhanded the young woman savagely across her small, dirty face. Lorinda's head jerked sideways with the force of the blow and bloody spittle flew. Slowly, impossibly remaining calm, Vandaris's daughter turned her head back toward Marrika. Tears clouded those large eyes, but they did not spill down her cheeks.
"This isn't about money, you whore," hissed Marrika. She knotted the rope with a savage jerk, and Lorinda gasped as the rope cinched painfully about her slim waist. Expertly Marrika tossed the grappling hook upward. It caught on the first try. Marrika tugged, assured that the grip was good, and motioned for them to lift the girl upward. As Khem and the others began to slowly draw her up toward the surface, Lorinda's hands automatically flew to the rope to steady herself.