One wall, in particular, struck him as unusual. The stonework was natural, ancient limestone that had been buried for ages, but a curious grid pattern had somehow been scored into the rock. As they walked they were forced close to the strange wall by a tight passageway.
Then the grid flew outward, muffling the curse explod shy;ing from Ariakas's throat. This time the net struck him with such force that it knocked his sword from his hands before tightly rolling Ariakas and Lyrelee into a compact, completely immobile bundle.
Chapter 16
Vallenswade
Ariakas struggled to turn his head, but once again a net bound him too effectively to allow even minimal movement. Lyrelee breathed heavily, pressed by their bonds against the armor of his back. He felt her wriggle, but the net restrained them so tightly that she could do little more than move her fingers.
"You are persistent, humans." The well-modulated voice emerged from the shadows, the tone cool but not unimpressed. "I would have thought we lost you back in the catacombs."
Again Ariakas tried to turn, to bring his light to bear on the speaker, but he could not. Something tall and lanky moved through the shadows beside him, and then that supple form squatted on the floor.
Ariakas cursed, recoiling involuntarily from an ape shy;like visage that suddenly dropped into his line of sight. The creature's face was covered with fur, and it had a protruding muzzle flanked by two yellow eyes centered with dark, slitted pupils. Those huge eyes blinked, pre shy;sumably in reaction to the light, and then a wide mouth gaped open, revealing several sharp fangs.
"Who are you?" demanded Ariakas.
"I am called Vallenswade. Like you, I am a warrior," replied the ape creature, lips and tongue articulating in a very humanlike fashion. In fact, this bizarre-looking fel shy;low seemed better spoken than a good number of the men and women Ariakas had known. "And you, two- how are you called?"
The warrior bit his lip, refusing to answer, anticipating a kick or some other prodding persuasion. Instead, Val shy;lenswade simply rose to his feet and turned away. The man saw a bare foot, also furred, equipped with a large toe that reached to the side like a thumb, before the crea shy;ture was swallowed by the darkness.
Sudden panic infused Ariakas. "Wait!" he cried, curs shy;ing the tension that thrummed in his voice. "I am called Ariakas-I am a warrior with the temple that stands above our heads. Tell me, Vallenswade," he pressed, his voice sounding more relaxed. "What manner of creature are you? Do you live here, in the Sanctified Catacombs?"
He heard a dry, rustling chuckle. "I am one of a very old race-as old as the ogres, we are. We are the Shilo-Thahn- you humans, I believe, know us as the shadowpeople."
"Only by repute," Ariakas said with a grunt. His posi shy;tion became increasingly uncomfortable. "Do you sup shy;pose you could loosen this net a bit?" he asked.
"Will you give your word that you will not attack me or my people?"
"Yes-I give my word," Ariakas said hastily. "I just want to talk."
"Of course," Vallenswade agreed. He barked some commands in a strange tongue, and the warrior immedi shy;ately felt the strands loosen around them. Lyrelee rolled free, gasping for breath and rubbing her chafed arms.
Ariakas sat up, looking out the corner of his eye for his sword. He saw a flash of red in the darkness, and sensed that one of the shadowpeople had picked it up and whisked it away.
"My apologies, Warrior Ariakas," said Vallenswade. Surprisingly, he really did sound rather sad. "I know you have given your word, but it would make us feel more secure if we retain custody of your weapon-for the time being, of course."
Ariakas nodded silently, surprised far more by his captor's politeness than by the loss of his weapon. The shadowpeople had already shown him more courtesy than he would be likely to extend to any prisoner.
"Why did you attack us?" the warrior asked bluntly.
Vallenswade blinked those huge yellow eyes. "Well, I didn't really think of it as an attack," he said softly. "After all, we simply immobilized you long enough to accomplish our task. If we had wanted to harm you, we could have done so." He gestured dismissively, and for the first time the human noticed a long, thin membrane of skin hanging from the Shilo-Thahn's wrist, attaching at his waist and ankle.
"I know," Ariakas admitted. "But why did you snatch my prisoner?"
"Your prisoner?" Vallenswade seemed puzzled. "But I thought-well, it doesn't matter why he came down here. The important thing is that he was stopped."
"What does that matter to you?" demanded the war shy;rior, intrigued by the shadowperson's assertion.
But Vallenswade was not about to elaborate. "Come," he invited, though the invitation was more of a com shy;mand. "I would be honored if the two of you would accompany me through the catacombs."
Lyrelee looked to Ariakas for a response, and the war shy;rior bowed his head politely. "The pleasure will be ours," he replied.
The shadowarrior's simian face split into a grotesque baring of teeth, which Ariakas took to be a smile. He was vaguely aware of several other shadowy figures falling into step behind them, and he could see at least four of them-including the one who carried his red-bladed sword-walking in front of Vallenswade.
"I must compliment you on your ambushes," Ariakas admitted honestly. "You caught us neatly, twice-and that was a thing I would have sworn could not be done."
Vallenswade flipped his hand in a deprecating gesture. "Do not feel shame-we are at home in the darkness, and know how to use it for our ends. Doubtless, were we on the surface, the advantage would have been yours."
They walked for a long distance through a winding, natural passage in the rock. Ariakas tried to memorize the route back to the lake, but he soon became lost in the maze of crossing corridors, branching pathways, and ascending and descending ramps. Too, he began to develop the conviction that the shadowpeople followed a very roundabout pathway, designed to throw off their direction sense. They passed an unusual stalagmite, and since the unique markings on its surface seemed familiar to him, he judged that they had come this way at least once before.
The warrior reflected in silence for a time. He had been a prisoner once, of ogres, and though he had eventually escaped, he had been very roughly treated. Many other times, he and his men had taken prisoners, and their fate, too, had not been pleasant. He found it astonishing that Vallenswade would treat them with such deferential politeness, almost as if they were honored guests.
What would be their fate? Although he didn't fear immediate execution, he wondered whether the sha shy;dowpeople would ever be inclined to let them go. He suspected not, and he didn't look forward to a life spent in this sunless dungeon-regardless of how friendly and polite his captors were.
"My . . . companion," Ariakas asked after this long silence. He didn't want to reaffirm that Tale Splintersteel was more like an enemy. "Is he alive?"
Vallenswade looked at him reprovingly. "Of course. We are not butchers. Even though he did kick one of my warriors quite ignobly, breaking his knee, we see no point in vengeful retribution."
"May I see him?" pressed the human warrior. Now the shadowarrior sighed. "That, I'm afraid, will not be so easily arranged. Indeed, I could not allow it. Only the councilors could permit such a thing."
"Who are the councilors?" asked Ariakas. "Are you taking us to them?"