And his surging sensation did not go unnoticed by Sharna. Oh, she was well aware of what pressed against her pivot leg, and it began to affect her. Her eyes filled with wanting. Sweat beaded her forehead. She spared a glance at the innocent man clinging to her, the man she had desired since first she laid eyes on him. A desire that had grown with each moment she spent with him on this journey. Her mouth parted enough to let her tongue run the length of her top lip…
"Sharna," Ty the Parson warned, releasing a dead Eunuch from the noose just in time to snare and snap the neck of another. "Control yourself."
She blinked, her mouth snapped shut and she shook her head—her saber slashed away yet another jowl snapping head from its lunging body—and she blinked again. From then on her battle became twofold. Within she fought to suppress her desire, bolstered by the thought if she gave in to it, the quest would be in ruins. Without she battled for the security of the One, whose very life insured the quest’s success, or so they hoped.
But Sharna also knew that if this battle went on much longer, she was destined to lose her inner struggle.
"The seaman swims against the ocean’s tide to reach floating ship wreckage! The flood victim seeks higher ground! Make for the stairs before we are overrun," Ty the Parson said in a flail of limbs that snapped the neck of a noosed Eunuch, brought his staff down to crack the head of another and a foot up to catch a third under the chin, sending it flipping head over heels.
All eyes looked to the stairs, which were Eunuch free, but were drawn back to the ever increasing crowd of jowl snapping creatures between them and what appeared to be their only avenue of escape. All but one saw no way to reach the stairs through such massive opposition. That one was Brak Dugan, who used the blade of his small plow like a sword to fend off the attack, and when he looked from the stairs to the problem reaching them, he smiled.
"To me," he called, "to me."
Everyone turned to see the wandering farmhand turn his small plow over to its usual angle and plow into the crowd of Eunuchs. The Party quickly fell in behind him, using their swords to keep the creatures at bay—and in fairly short order they reached the stairs, where Brak Dugan took one side, Shing the other, to ward off the Eunuchs while the rest, led by Ty the Parson, hurried up the steps and through the narrow doorway at the top.
Sharna and Orlon were the last to head up the stairs and through the doorway, and the wandering Farmer and Shing were hot on their heels.
Not a Eunuch followed them…. What did follow them was a load, many throated howl of disappointment, punctuated by the scraping of clawed feet as the creatures scurried out of the cave through its many other doorways. The staff of Rae burned to ash.
Beyond the narrow doorway was darkness so deep it brought the Party to a stumbling halt. When the light offered by Rae’s staff winked out they found themselves utterly blind, which in this location, this circumstance was not very comforting. And no one was more on edge than the pair of Midgets.
Tarl Bimbo, who had found elation in his first experience with swordplay, as well as relief he had not faced an actual swordsman, was still riding an adrenalin rush. Yet behind his elation and relief was an unease with the full realization this trip—his long awaited chance to see the world beyond Dwarf Road come true—was in fact a quest—and his best friend really was the One on whose shoulders rested the fate of the world. He swallowed. That they were in total darkness where might lurk other dangers such as they just escaped had him trembling.
Gone was the surging sensation that had had Orlon lost to the world. It had taken a blow with the run to the stairs and a fatal whack upon entering the dark tunnel. What first took its place was embarrassment that it happened at all, touched with relief they were in the dark. He would have hated to face Sharna in the full light of day. The heat of shame crawled up his cheeks, but faded with the chill of fear that crept up his spine.
There was no denying his part in the quest was to save the world from a horrific fate at the hands of Tibtarni—whatever. There was no denying they were now in the lair of the evil being he was expected to confront—to defeat with the Holy Pike! He gulped. And he could not deny the attack of the Eunuchs showed the evil being was well protected, though he could not fathom why that attack had ceased at the stairs.
"Why didn’t those…those Eunuchs follow us?" he gave voice to his wonderment.
"The trapper returns only when fur quota is accomplished! The child reacts to fire after fingers have been burned! The Eunuchs have not only failed to stop us, but fear the evil master they serve," Ty the Parson said, spasming in the dark. "The it of the hide-and-seek game nears the hiding place of the victim he searches for! We must be near the evil being we have traveled so far, faced such adversity to stop."
There was a general uneasy stir amongst the Party.
Orlon gave the direction of Ty the Parson’s voice a double-take. While he was glad to have his question answered, the answer made him truly thankful for the darkness around them. He was certain he just turned white as a ghost. To know what was expected of him on this quest was one thing. To know how close he was to having to perform that deed was another. He gulped—and did his best to stiffen a spine turned to jelly.
"Lovers on a moonlight stroll! Join hands that we may continue to our goal."
Two things made the Parson’s request hard to accomplish: The pitch black about them and to a man, and woman, the warriors had weapons drawn. Still, with great care, none more so than Orlon with the Holy Pike, they were able to achieve the task without injury and formed a line of hand-to-hand, hand-to-wrist grips.
With the tip of his sappy staff against the wall, and a hand wrapped around Marcol’s wrist, Ty the Parson started down the tunnel one careful step at a time, pulling along the Party behind him.
The tunnel gradually curved to the left, and within twenty or so steps a dim light flickered in the distance ahead, slowing their advance. But advance they did, eyes ever on the light, the warriors tense with the thought it might be a foe with a torch. Brighter and brighter it became, tenser and tenser grew the warriors… When they were finally able to identify its source, they breathed a sigh of relief, though the warriors' tension remained unabated.
Before and to the left of them was a doorway through which the light came. Instinctively, the warriors flattened against the wall, yanking Ty the Parson, Orlon, Tarl, Majestus Sinobe and Brak Dugan into the same position. Ty the Parson shot a stern look back at them before starting forward again with soundless steps, pulling the Party train along just as silently. He stopped at the doorway’s edge, darted a single eye peek within—and what he saw was imprinted on his brain.
Beyond the doorway was a long, narrow cave with rocks of various sizes strewn about. A thick candle flickered on a shelf on a side wall and centered on the back wall was an arched door, three faces, representing anger, fear and sorrow, carved in the stone above it.
Standing before the door was a guard. He was huge, both in height and muscularity, and covered with thin black hair. About his waist was a loincloth and girdle that supported a silver hilted broadsword at each hip. Atop his shaggily maned head was a three horned helm, pulled low to his bushy brow, beneath which twinkled twin red orbs. His homely face wore a sneer to match his arrogant stance, tree trunk arms crossed over barrel chest.