“Go to the demons.”
Varena calmly raised her hand and a snap of pain hit Hammen.
“Damn it, that hurts!”
“Next time it’s twice as bad. Now wash!”
Cursing under his breath, he moved out into the junction and started to uncork a waterskin.
“Undress first.”
Hammen looked at them, gape mouthed.
“You’re kidding.”
The pain hit again and, true to her word, it was twice as bad.
Mumbling imprecation after imprecation, he pulled off his tunic and trousers.
“Everything,” Norreen said calmly.
He started to protest and Varena raised her hand.
“Well, give me some privacy at least!” he demanded as he struggled to raise the curtain back up.
Stripping the rest of the way, he started to wash, grimacing as the cold water splashed over him and the curtain fell.
Norreen and Varena looked at him and started to chuckle softly. Red-faced with rage and humiliation, Hammen turned around and they laughed even louder.
“Some ladies you turned out to be,” he snapped angrily as he finished, and Varena finally handed him a towel to dry off.
He quickly grabbed his bundle of clothes and changed, feeling uncomfortable as clean cloth rubbed against his scrubbed skin.
The two women turned their attention back to Garth, and drying him off, they dressed him in fresh clothes.
“So are you interested in him?” Varena asked, looking up at Norreen.
“He’s a good fighter. Though I didn’t admit it at the time, he saved me from getting stabbed in the back. I owed him.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Norreen looked down at Garth.
“He’s not of my clan.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“You certainly are interested,” Hammen interrupted, looking straight at Varena.
“It meant nothing,” she replied calmly, and Hammen chuckled.
“What a life. Two women dressing him together, one’s already slept with him and the other wants to. What a life.”
Norreen looked back coldly at Hammen.
“What he did with her doesn’t mean a damn thing to me.”
“Sure. Anything you say,” he replied tauntingly.
Varena silently watched Norreen and her features started to turn red.
“Once we get him out of here my obligation’s done,” Norreen snapped. “He’s yours if he means that much to you.”
“I said I wasn’t interested.”
“Why don’t you just bid on him?” Hammen sniffed.
“Shut up,” both of them snarled simultaneously.
From the grate overhead a distant roaring cry broke out and was picked up, rolling closer. Footsteps could be heard, then more shouting, and finally the distinctive sound of crossbows snapping.
Suddenly there was a snuffling sound, a deep-throated breathing that echoed in the tunnels. A low, throaty growl erupted.
“Mastiffs,” Norreen whispered.
“There’s something down there,” a voice cried.
“Pull the grate!”
Norreen reached for her blade.
“It’s set into the stone and it’s too narrow to get through.”
“Well, damn it, find a way to get in; they’re down there!”
Varena leaned over Garth, pressed her hands on either temple, and, leaning over, whispered softly into his ear.
He stirred, groaning softly. She whispered again.
With a cry he tried to sit up, and she clamped a hand over his mouth.
“They’re down there, they’re down there!”
Garth looked about wildly and Varena kept her hand firmly grasped over his mouth. Suddenly she leaned over, removed her hand, and kissed him lightly on the lips.
Hammen, in spite of his fear, fought to suppress a chuckle at the flash of anger on Norreen’s face.
The terror in Garth’s eyes subsided and Varena leaned back. Reaching over to one of the oilskinned bundles, she opened it up, drew out his satchel, and pulled it over his shoulder.
“Where am I?” He recoiled as more shouts echoed from above.
“We got you out of the dungeon,” Norreen whispered, moving to kneel by him.
“How?”
“Hammen figured it out.”
Garth looked over at Hammen, who was kneeling behind Norreen. The old man said nothing, his eyes filled with concern.
Garth reached out and touched him lightly on the shoulder and Hammen lowered his head.
Wordlessly he looked at Varena and Norreen and nodded a thanks.
“Well, now that this reunion’s over, I’d suggest we get out of here,” Hammen whispered, trying to suppress a sniffle.
He scurried past Garth, moving up the tunnel. Norreen helped Garth to his feet, ready to grab him if he started to collapse.
“I’m all right,” Garth whispered as her hand shot out to steady him and, bending low, he followed Hammen.
They continued up the tunnel, scurrying quickly past a side channel that echoed with voices and the distant growling of a dog. Hammen turned down another line, then turned right again, and finally came to a stop.
“This is the turn,” he whispered.
Varena paused, looking to where Hammen pointed.
“It comes out behind the street of the money changers. It’s an empty courtyard. After the last fire swept the city, they changed the street so it’s no longer used. Scale over the wall, head east, and you’ll come up behind your House. You should get through in the confusion.”
Without a word, Varena started up the tunnel and then paused and looked back.
“Garth.”
“Yes.”
“Get out of the city. Give it up. I don’t know what it is you’re after; I don’t want to know. Just get out. If you stay and we have to fight, you know I won’t hold back. My sessan will not allow it.”
Garth smiled and said nothing.
“Benalish, he’s yours now. Get him out.”
“I don’t take gifts from an Orange hanin,” Norreen replied haughtily.
Varena laughed and disappeared up the tunnel.
From the direction they had just come, the baying of mastiffs echoed.
“Let’s go,” Hammen said, and, turning, he led them into a narrow tunnel opposite the direction Varena had taken. The tunnel was so low that they had to crawl on hands and knees until Hammen finally stopped and pointed up. Overhead was a grate at the top of a narrow shaft. Hammen turned and reached up. Grabbing hold of a slippery outcropping of rock, he pulled himself up, shouldering the grate aside.
He climbed out warily and, crouching, looked around. The ruined courtyard was a jumble of fire-blackened stones tangled with a dense overgrowth of vines. Just on the other side of a tottering wall could be heard a wild commotion and exuberant shouts.
“One-eye, One-eye!”
Hammen motioned for the two to follow him up. Garth came next and then Norreen. Just as she cleared the grate a loud barking erupted from directly below.
“They’re out, they’re out!”
Garth threw the grate back over the hole while Norreen pushed a heavy boulder on top of it.
“Damn it, clear that grate!”
Hammen pointed toward a narrow fissure in the wall, which led out into the alleyway. Garth and Norreen started for it and stopped when they heard Hammen laughing.
He stood over the grate, relieving himself and an angry cursing exploded from below.
“Payback time,” Hammen announced savagely, and then, laughing, he followed his two friends out into the alleyway. As they reached the street Garth pulled his cape up around his head to cover his face and missing eye.
“The way out of the city is that way,” Hammen announced, pointing down the street, trying to be heard above the tumult of the crowds pushing around them.
“I’m staying,” Garth announced sharply.
“Damn it!” Norreen snarled.
He looked over at her and her protest fell silent.
“All right, we kind of figured that,” Hammen said. “The Bolk House is just around the corner.”
“How’d you know?” Garth asked.
“We just kind of assumed it.”
The three shouldered their way through the crowd, which was pushing and shoving, some of them moving toward the rioting in the Plaza, others moving to get away.