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.Now, in the twilight, shecould see the dark blood welling from his forehead, the blackened hands, already swelling.She untied thepouches from his belt and ransacked them, careless of the food spilling across the floor.The bandagesfor the rowers' hands had been washed and rolled up.After tearing off a length, she wadded it andapplied pressure to the head wound, moistened his lips with a couple of drops of water, bandaged hishands.Survive, she begged in her mind.Sianadh, Liam, and Muirne are gone.Do not go, too you are the lastof Ethlinn's kin.The last of my people.Lovingly, the dark chill of underground embraced them.Diarmid would not waken she was alone.Thescattered food had already disappeared; not a nut remained.Where was the rooster? Had it been leftbehind? As if in reply, a slightly singed bundle of feathers jumped from its perch on a high shelf to herknee.She held it close.Its small company would be welcome during the long hours of vigil.And long they were, those hours, sitting beside Diarmid, hoping for a word or a sign.His face wasflushed.She applied wet cloths to it.He was burning.His breath came in shallow gasps.Imrhien had forgotten how loud was the dawn call of the faithful cockerel.In the end, it was that whichwoke Diarmid.He sat up, muttering, dazed.The last reverberations of the bird's clamor sent bits ofgravel scurrying down the walls.A rumbling began.Somewhere, some delicate balance, dependent on bits of gravel, had shifted.Thewalls and floor began to shake.Imrhien seized Diarmid's arm and tried to pull him to his feet.Pebbleswere falling.The ground muttered as she led him up the tunnel, he limping badly.Where had it been, thelittle opening high in the wall? Had she gone past without noticing it?But there it was, the seventh branch.Or possibly not.Page 255 «Climb,» her hands commanded.Torment showed in every line of the man's body, every twitching muscle of his face.He did not speak,but clambered up the rough ledges to the aperture, which was not tall enough to allow him to stand.Witha pitiful cry, he forced himself in, headfirst.As the girl and the cockerel scrambled in to join him, theceiling of the passage below collapsed with a roar.Dust puffed in at them.Coughing, they crawled awayon hands and knees.This will be aptly named, should it turn out to be a dead end.The passage went on, however, with a purposeful air, rising on a shallow gradient.Soon the walls fellback, the ceiling flew up, and they were able to stand.By the soft light of glow-fungi, Imrhien saw thatDiarmid's bandages were soaking red.The Ertishman had crawled over stony ground on burned andblackened hands.His fortitude was impressive.He propped himself against a wall, allowed her to hold the near emptywater-bottle to his mouth, and shook his head when she asked if he wanted to rest.He was resolute.They shared the last drops of water and marched on.It was a relief to hear the knockings again; the girl felt certain now that they had regained the right path.Diarmid's ankle had been injured, and he could put very little weight on it.They were forced to haltseveral times, but they had covered a surprising amount of ground by the time they reached the freshet.Clear water sprang out of the walls, ran noisily down a narrow gutter beside the floor, and disappearedthrough a chink in the rock.Gratefully the travelers and their bird drank of it.They bathed and refilled thewater-bottle."Unlace my shirt for me," said Diarmid, "please.It's so hot here." The air was chill, but he was aflame.Carefully, so as not to touch his wounded hands, she helped him remove his mercenary's jacket.Sherinsed his hair with cool water.The roots were growing out red."You are kind." His eyes were bright, feverish.They seemed unfocused.She put on his jacket it was easier to carry it that way, and the rooster seemed to like perching on theepaulets.There had been refreshment but no relief for Diarmid at this stop.Stubbornly he pulled himselfto his feet, and they continued on their way.To Imrhien it felt like late afternoon, a time when aboveground the sun's rays would be lying in long barsof bullion across the meadows and woods and the rooks would be flying home to roost.Down herethere was no reason to feel this, no indication of the sun's invisible journey in the outside world.The knockings amplified in volume and number, and as the travelers climbed the rising floor, they cameto where the walls of the passageway were no longer featureless and unbroken.Small caves and diggingshoneycombed them.Hope burgeoned in Imrhien, for she detected the sounds of miners hard at work indrifts nearby, separated perhaps only by a thin partition of rock.Yet she could not call out to them, andDiarmid was past speech.The rumor of their industry was everywhere: hammerings, blastings, the squeak of wheels, the rattle of awindlass, shoutings of orders, a burble of voices, and laughter.The travelers picked up their pace.Eventhrough the mists of pain the Ertishman seemed encouraged by the evidence of human aid close at hand.But within another hundred yards or so, their expectations crashed into ruin.Page 256 They came upon a side-cavern lit by dozens of tiny lanterns held by diminutive manlike beings whomilled to and fro.Each of these wights was about eighteen inches in height, dressed after the manner oftin-miners, and grotesquely ugly.Their faces were cheery, however, as they bustled back and forth withpicks and shovels and crowbars across their shoulders, or pushing barrows, or carrying buckets onpoles.One of them rounded a corner quite close by and stopped in his tracks.His jaw dropped as heconfronted the two mortals."Methinks," wheezed Diarmid to Imrhien, "they are seelie." He fixed his gaze on the tiny miner."Canyou" the Ertishman paused for breath "show us the way out?""Ooh,Mathy, what's that behind ye?" exclaimed the little fellow, pointing over their shoulders, his quainteyebrows popping up with surprise.In their weakened condition, the travelers fell for the trick.Theytook their eyes off him.When a split moment later they turned back, not one of the miners was to beseen only their tiny tools lying where they had been dropped and a lingering echo of tittering andsqueaking.Disheartened, the travelers moved on.They could hear the wights emerge behind them, even before theywere out of sight, and return to their scurryings.It would have been useless to round on them, trying tocatch them unawares.The wights were apprised of their presence now and would be gone in a puff ofdust before the mortals could try to seize them, or draw breath, or even blink.These small folk seemed very occupied with the business at hand, but the girl had seen no ore in thebuckets and barrows, and despite all the wielding of picks and shovels, not one of the little miners hadbeen actually digging.Despite all their great show of labor, she could find no palpable trace of their work.They were, in fact, performing nothing.Imrhien's head ached and she could not remember when she had last slept.Leaving behind the scenes ofpointless industry, the travelers drew into a side-cavern and lay down.Diarmid fell asleep instantly.Imrhien tried to keep watch but eventually succumbed to slumber [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]
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.Now, in the twilight, shecould see the dark blood welling from his forehead, the blackened hands, already swelling.She untied thepouches from his belt and ransacked them, careless of the food spilling across the floor.The bandagesfor the rowers' hands had been washed and rolled up.After tearing off a length, she wadded it andapplied pressure to the head wound, moistened his lips with a couple of drops of water, bandaged hishands.Survive, she begged in her mind.Sianadh, Liam, and Muirne are gone.Do not go, too you are the lastof Ethlinn's kin.The last of my people.Lovingly, the dark chill of underground embraced them.Diarmid would not waken she was alone.Thescattered food had already disappeared; not a nut remained.Where was the rooster? Had it been leftbehind? As if in reply, a slightly singed bundle of feathers jumped from its perch on a high shelf to herknee.She held it close.Its small company would be welcome during the long hours of vigil.And long they were, those hours, sitting beside Diarmid, hoping for a word or a sign.His face wasflushed.She applied wet cloths to it.He was burning.His breath came in shallow gasps.Imrhien had forgotten how loud was the dawn call of the faithful cockerel.In the end, it was that whichwoke Diarmid.He sat up, muttering, dazed.The last reverberations of the bird's clamor sent bits ofgravel scurrying down the walls.A rumbling began.Somewhere, some delicate balance, dependent on bits of gravel, had shifted.Thewalls and floor began to shake.Imrhien seized Diarmid's arm and tried to pull him to his feet.Pebbleswere falling.The ground muttered as she led him up the tunnel, he limping badly.Where had it been, thelittle opening high in the wall? Had she gone past without noticing it?But there it was, the seventh branch.Or possibly not.Page 255 «Climb,» her hands commanded.Torment showed in every line of the man's body, every twitching muscle of his face.He did not speak,but clambered up the rough ledges to the aperture, which was not tall enough to allow him to stand.Witha pitiful cry, he forced himself in, headfirst.As the girl and the cockerel scrambled in to join him, theceiling of the passage below collapsed with a roar.Dust puffed in at them.Coughing, they crawled awayon hands and knees.This will be aptly named, should it turn out to be a dead end.The passage went on, however, with a purposeful air, rising on a shallow gradient.Soon the walls fellback, the ceiling flew up, and they were able to stand.By the soft light of glow-fungi, Imrhien saw thatDiarmid's bandages were soaking red.The Ertishman had crawled over stony ground on burned andblackened hands.His fortitude was impressive.He propped himself against a wall, allowed her to hold the near emptywater-bottle to his mouth, and shook his head when she asked if he wanted to rest.He was resolute.They shared the last drops of water and marched on.It was a relief to hear the knockings again; the girl felt certain now that they had regained the right path.Diarmid's ankle had been injured, and he could put very little weight on it.They were forced to haltseveral times, but they had covered a surprising amount of ground by the time they reached the freshet.Clear water sprang out of the walls, ran noisily down a narrow gutter beside the floor, and disappearedthrough a chink in the rock.Gratefully the travelers and their bird drank of it.They bathed and refilled thewater-bottle."Unlace my shirt for me," said Diarmid, "please.It's so hot here." The air was chill, but he was aflame.Carefully, so as not to touch his wounded hands, she helped him remove his mercenary's jacket.Sherinsed his hair with cool water.The roots were growing out red."You are kind." His eyes were bright, feverish.They seemed unfocused.She put on his jacket it was easier to carry it that way, and the rooster seemed to like perching on theepaulets.There had been refreshment but no relief for Diarmid at this stop.Stubbornly he pulled himselfto his feet, and they continued on their way.To Imrhien it felt like late afternoon, a time when aboveground the sun's rays would be lying in long barsof bullion across the meadows and woods and the rooks would be flying home to roost.Down herethere was no reason to feel this, no indication of the sun's invisible journey in the outside world.The knockings amplified in volume and number, and as the travelers climbed the rising floor, they cameto where the walls of the passageway were no longer featureless and unbroken.Small caves and diggingshoneycombed them.Hope burgeoned in Imrhien, for she detected the sounds of miners hard at work indrifts nearby, separated perhaps only by a thin partition of rock.Yet she could not call out to them, andDiarmid was past speech.The rumor of their industry was everywhere: hammerings, blastings, the squeak of wheels, the rattle of awindlass, shoutings of orders, a burble of voices, and laughter.The travelers picked up their pace.Eventhrough the mists of pain the Ertishman seemed encouraged by the evidence of human aid close at hand.But within another hundred yards or so, their expectations crashed into ruin.Page 256 They came upon a side-cavern lit by dozens of tiny lanterns held by diminutive manlike beings whomilled to and fro.Each of these wights was about eighteen inches in height, dressed after the manner oftin-miners, and grotesquely ugly.Their faces were cheery, however, as they bustled back and forth withpicks and shovels and crowbars across their shoulders, or pushing barrows, or carrying buckets onpoles.One of them rounded a corner quite close by and stopped in his tracks.His jaw dropped as heconfronted the two mortals."Methinks," wheezed Diarmid to Imrhien, "they are seelie." He fixed his gaze on the tiny miner."Canyou" the Ertishman paused for breath "show us the way out?""Ooh,Mathy, what's that behind ye?" exclaimed the little fellow, pointing over their shoulders, his quainteyebrows popping up with surprise.In their weakened condition, the travelers fell for the trick.Theytook their eyes off him.When a split moment later they turned back, not one of the miners was to beseen only their tiny tools lying where they had been dropped and a lingering echo of tittering andsqueaking.Disheartened, the travelers moved on.They could hear the wights emerge behind them, even before theywere out of sight, and return to their scurryings.It would have been useless to round on them, trying tocatch them unawares.The wights were apprised of their presence now and would be gone in a puff ofdust before the mortals could try to seize them, or draw breath, or even blink.These small folk seemed very occupied with the business at hand, but the girl had seen no ore in thebuckets and barrows, and despite all the wielding of picks and shovels, not one of the little miners hadbeen actually digging.Despite all their great show of labor, she could find no palpable trace of their work.They were, in fact, performing nothing.Imrhien's head ached and she could not remember when she had last slept.Leaving behind the scenes ofpointless industry, the travelers drew into a side-cavern and lay down.Diarmid fell asleep instantly.Imrhien tried to keep watch but eventually succumbed to slumber [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]