Some automatic part of his mind had been counting the shots from his revolver, and he heard the last one ring out with a solemn finality. Something heavy knocked into Frey’s off-hand and sent the torch tipping from his grip. He reached after it, but in doing so he exposed his arm from behind the protection of his blade. One of the creatures appeared from nowhere, snatching at him with eager hands, jaws snapping. He pulled his arm hard out of the way, but not entirely: teeth slashed down his bicep in a sharp flood of pain before he flung the damned thing off and beheaded it.
He looked for his torch, but it had rolled away along the wet cavern floor. Its last light underlit a trio of fang-stuffed faces, like daemons out of some macabre children’s tale. Then the flame died, and he couldn’t see them any more.
Silo pulled down the torch that he’d jammed into the rock, and backed up against Frey. He had only a dagger in his other hand now. It was a pitiful defence against these monsters, but it was the only one they had left.
The ghalls drew back, perhaps sensing that their prey was weakening, perhaps fearing Frey’s blade. Silo and Frey, breathing hard, stood in their diminished island of torchlight, their faces and chests spattered with gore.
The battle was suspended for a few moments, but it was a few moments only. The ghalls still surrounded them. It was a temporary reprieve, and the end was inevitable as it ever was. man"›But then ‘Is that light? ’ Frey said.
It was light! Torchlight, illuminating the mouth of a tunnel on another wall of the cavern, that had been hidden in the blackness till now. Torchlight, and the sound of running feet, and ‘Hey!’ Frey yelled, with a volume he didn’t know he possessed. ‘In here! In here!’
The ghalls turned their faces towards the new intruders. Voices were calling out in Murthian. The torchlight brightened and flared as they came into view, four, five, six of them, running into the cavern, weapons in their hands.
At their head was Ehri. She barked a command in Murthian and the newcomers opened fire. Rifles cracked and shotguns boomed. Someone threw out a phosphorous flare and furious white light swelled to fill the cavern.
Frey was horrified at what it revealed. The place was aswarm, infested with ghalls, racing about like cockroaches caught in the sudden glow of an electric bulb. It was a scene from one of the hells of the old pre-Awakener religions: prancing grotesques threw shadow-shapes against the walls of some terrible subterranean pit.
But despite the ghalls’ superior numbers, they were in disarray. The newcomers stormed into them and they fled, slipping through holes in the rock or sliding into the great black pool in the centre of the cavern. Frey hacked at the occasional ghall who strayed too close to him, but they were too busy trying to get away to pay him much mind now. They were just animals in the end, and the panic spread fast. In minutes, only dead ghalls remained within the range of the flare.
Frey let the tip of his bloody cutlass sink to the ground. He was unable to believe that he was still breathing. Dazedly he gathered up his pistols and put them in his belt, but the effort of standing up and the plummeting adrenaline in his body made his legs give way, and he would have fallen over if Silo hadn’t caught him and helped him up.
Once the ghalls were gone, Ehri hurried across the chamber, accompanied by the man Frey had seen her with before, who he assumed was her lover. They both embraced Silo with quick and rough hugs.
I wasn’t sure you would show, Silo said in Murthian.
I wasn’t sure you would be here when we did, Ehri replied.
Akkad will kill you all.
He won’t get the chance, said Ehri, her eyes hard. ~ Tonight we will finish what you started. Tonight we will end him.
Twenty-Seven
Silo listened to the night sounds of the jungle as he watched the last of his rescuers step off the pulley. The warm, wet air brought back a flood of memories and feelings from a time long ago, when he’d been a more passionate man, when the world had been so simple. Black and white. Sammie and Murthian.
He’d slipped through this dark with a knife in his teeth. He’d prowled past guards beneath its cover. He’d seen it lit up with muzzle flashes, the chaos of a firefight. It had been a time of violence, a time of freedom. A time of certainties.
Ehri and Fal stood with him, Fal making roll-ups with his nimble fingers. Ehri was already smoking one. They were older now, but this was the same. This silent togetherness.
He looked over at the Cap’n. Frey was sitting up against a tree, his head bent forward and one hand on his neck. He’d had a rough time of it down there, Silo reckoned. He’d given up hope and got ready for death. Getting pulled back from the brink like that, it wasn’t easy to take. But he was stronger than he thought he was, Silo knew that much.
~ You were lucky, Ehri was saying. ~ We lost track of the marks you left in the dark. We had to follow the gunfire. That place is a maze.
~ You found us by a different way, said Silo. ~ But you came none too soon, and I am grateful.
Nearby, three young Murthians sat on the grass dejectedly, tied up and gagged. The scouts that had captured Silo and Frey on the outskirts of the camp, left as guards by Akkad. They’d always left guards in the past, in case friends or relatives attempted a rescue. But Ehri had brought many friends, and the guards had submitted without a fight.
Fal passed Silo a roll-up, and began working on one for himself. Silo lit it and motioned towards the prisoners.
What will you do with them?
Let them go, said Ehri. ~ After.
He looked at her in the leaf-choked moonlight.
We can either run or finish this, she said. ~ I will not run.
All this because of me?
She shook her head. ~ It was happening anyway. Tomorrow, next week, next month. We were ready. But your arrival has forced our hand.
Fal explained, his eyes on the tube of herbs and paper in his hands. ~ There are many who feel as we do, that Akkad has forgotten the plight of our fellow Murthians. He is no longer interested in freeing our imprisoned brothers and sisters. an"›
He has become paranoid, said Ehri. ~ Every day he tightens his grip.
Silo drew on his roll-up, his thoughts dark. Akkad had been obsessed with disloyalty even before the failed revolt. Afterwards, he must have been many times worse.
This is not the same place you left, said Fal. ~ People are afraid. The ghalls have been fed too often. He sees traitors among the innocent, and so makes traitors of their relatives.
He’ll do anything to protect us, said Ehri bitterly. ~ Whether we want it or not.
She was harder than he remembered, and she was tough even then. But they were different times, when he and Fal had competed for her attention, and she’d been unable to choose between them.
The day he tried to usurp Akkad, Ehri had fallen ill, bitten by a snake. Fal had refused to leave her side. Silo had refused to wait for her to recover. There were too many pieces in place for that. Each of them decided in that moment what or who was most important to them. Ehri had come second best for Silo, but not for Fal. He hadn’t been surprised to find them married when he returned, each wearing the band of the other.
They’d made a pact, while planning their coup. If any of them were put into the warrens as traitors, the others would get them out. But in the end there were no ‘others’. The only able-bodied one of them was Fal, and he could scarcely save them all on his own. He and Ehri escaped retribution because they’d played no part in the coup, and their names were never mentioned. Silo himself was long gone, having fled for his life.