The Gathering Storm
Page 126

“Go on, man,” said Erkanwulf. “There’s nothing you can do.”
Prodded by a spear, Ivar staggered forward as Baldwin turned away, shoulders heaving with a sob. No choice but to abandon him. Just as he had been abandoned by Liath at Quedlinhame.
XIII
AFTER DARKNESS
1
SISTER Hilaria used flint, iron, and a scrap of dried mushroom to light a lamp. As the fire caught, she wiped away tears. “I am not accustomed to the smell any longer,” she said apologetically. Holding up the lamp, she indicated that Hanna should roll the stone back into place. “Then none can follow you.”
The stone that blocked the path was so precisely balanced that it ground easily into place and Hanna turned, dusting off her hands, to regard her new companion. The nun was still blinking because of the wavering flame.
“I know these paths so well that I no longer use light. We conserve our meager oil in this way. Still, it will go more quickly for you if we have light. Follow closely.”
The floor ran smoothly under her feet, although she kept one hand tracing the wall as she walked behind Hilaria, trying not to bump into her. The nun gave off a strong scent like overripe yeast, not entirely displeasing. The lamplight chased shadows around them, but it did little to dispel the gloom. Tunnels branched away on either side, some ascending and some descending. Passing one opening, Hanna caught a distinct whiff of rotten eggs. As she stopped, recoiling from the strong smell, a will-o’-the-wisp shifted in the nether darkness, a flash of pale lightness like the glimmer of eyes.
“Sister!” She grabbed hold of the nun’s arm. “I saw something down that tunnel.”
The nun’s smile was mysterious but untroubled. “We are not alone.”
She hurried on. Hanna followed despite creeping shivers. Blackness closed in behind them. It was better not to look behind, in case something was sneaking up on her, but she looked anyway. She saw nothing but swallowing darkness.
“Are we safe? Where do those tunnels lead?”
“Into the depths of the earth. We stand atop a labyrinth, friend, whose heart lies beyond our knowledge. So much has been lost to us, who wander in darkness.” Was Hilaria speaking of the little community of nuns, or of humankind? It was hard to tell. “Do not fear. The creatures that abide in the earth have done no harm to us. I wish I could say the same of our human brethren.”
They came to a ramp that opened onto a cavern broad enough that Hanna felt a change in the air. Their frail flame barely lit the darkness. She saw neither ceiling nor floor, only the suggestion of an open area wide enough to house monsters, or a manor house and its outbuildings.
“Is this where you live?”
“No. But we harbored an army here once. This way.”
The light formed a halo around them as they crossed the wide cavern, coming to a corridor that struck into the rock. Their footfalls echoed in whispers. They rounded a corner and came to another blocked passageway. Hanna set her weight to push aside the great wheel stone, but it did not budge as easily as the other one. At last she got it moving, and with a grinding grumble it rolled into a recess cut in the rock.
“Hold.” Hilaria squeezed through the gap. “Now let it block the path again.”
“We won’t return this way?”
“No. We’ll return by a different path.”
They crossed a ditch dug into the rock that reminded Hanna of a channel where rainwater might run off, and as they toiled up a steep ramp Hanna realized that she could see the walls. Hilaria pinched out the flame. A chamber hewn from rock greeted her astonished gaze. Ventilation shafts cut through the rock let in light, revealing what had once been a kitchen with hearths, a single heavy table, and half a dozen large, open, but empty barrels.
“Quickly.” Hilaria walked so swiftly through the chamber that Hanna scarcely had time to glance around.
Light shone bright and welcoming as they moved into the rock-hewn chambers that had once housed the convent dedicated to St. Ekatarina. Being good nuns, the sisters had not abandoned the outer rooms precipitously. Except for a thick coating of dust, the dormitory, the chapel, the library, and the refectory remained in perfect order. Benches in the chapel, lecterns and stools in the library, table and benches in the eating hall, two looms, all were set in order; before fleeing, the nuns had taken the time to tidy up. Luminous frescoes adorned the walls, and the tale they told caught Hanna’s interest: strangely-garbed folk walked through archways of light woven in stone crowns.
“This way!”
Hanna shook herself before following Hilaria out into the hard sunlight on a terrace. A shout rang up from below, but the nun did not answer, instead shifting a heavy white canvas cover that concealed a rolled-up rope ladder. A shove sent it tumbling down the cliff face.