Andawyr did not reply but just patted his friend’s arm and turned away quickly.
As he started down the steps the door closed behind him with a booming thud that echoed away into the cavernous darkness beyond the torches of the tiny group.
Chapter 22
As the reverberations of the closing door dwindled into silence, all eyes turned to Andawyr descending the stone steps.
‘What happened back there?’ Hawklan tried again.
‘Show me your sword,’ Andawyr said.
Hawklan drew the sword and handed it to the Cad-wanwr, who examined it carefully and then squinted along it knowingly, humming slightly to himself as he did so.
‘Did it hurt you when you hit it?’ he asked.
‘A little,’ Hawklan replied. ‘I didn’t expect such an impact.’
Seemingly satisfied, Andawyr handed the sword back and took hold of Hawklan’s arms in a grip that Hawklan recognized. ‘Well, healer?’ he asked with some irony.
Andawyr smiled. ‘Well indeed,’ he said. ‘Both of you are unscathed. I’d no serious doubts about the sword. But you could’ve been hurt badly.’ He shook his head in relieved surprise. ‘You wielded the sword well. You are indeed much changed.’
‘For the third time, Andawyr,’ Hawklan said slowly and with heavy determination. ‘What happened back there.’
Andawyr’s manner asked for patience from his questioner; despite their unprepossessing surroundings he seemed much more relaxed. ‘We’ll talk as we walk,’ he said. ‘Keep together. Keep the torches low, we’ve a long way to go. Two will suffice; one front, one back. That’ll make sure no one starts to fall behind.’
The group found themselves walking along a wide, apparently natural tunnel. Strange rock formations threw grotesque shadows in the moving torchlight and stained patches of dampness on the walls glistened coldly. Apart from the echoing sound of their own walking, they could hear only the occasional splashing of drops of water.
‘Dan-Tor is whole again,’ Andawyr said bluntly. ‘The Vrwystin a Goleg is his creature and only he could have used the Old Power thus to free the bird. It’s fortunate it happened when it did. Had it escaped and an acolyte, or even me for that matter, opened the door unsuspecting, the consequences could have been appalling. That thing loose in the Cadwanol… ’ He shuddered.
‘What does it mean?’ Hawklan asked.
Andawyr grimaced. ‘We must assume that Creost and Dar Hastuin will be made whole again at Derras Ustramel, so for my brothers with the army, Dan-Tor’s recovery means they’ll be stretched to their very limit. For the army, the release of the Vrwystin means that the extent and disposition of all our forces will be known to Dan-Tor at all times.’
‘But it’s not free,’ Hawklan said. ‘It’s trapped in that room.’
Andawyr shook his head. ‘It’s trapped, true, but it’s free,’ he said. ‘The blue light you saw, was a manifesta-tion of a great binding that restrained the whole creature. It could see nothing. Now, the room merely confines the one bird. Merely blindfolds one eye in perhaps… thousands… who knows?’
Hawklan’s face was now as grim as Andawyr’s.
‘Then he’ll see us, too,’ Dacu said, speaking Hawk-lan’s thoughts.
Andawyr stopped walking. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so,’ he replied.
‘Our only hope lies in surprise,’ Hawklan said. ‘Sumeral must know nothing of our intention until we march into His very throne room.’
No one spoke, and the silence seemed to press in on the waiting torchlit faces.
‘Could Gavor and Dar-volci perhaps hunt them down for us?’ Yrain suggested hesitantly.
Gavor shot her an alarmed look.
Andawyr shook his head. ‘Gavor can’t fly either quietly or quickly enough,’ he said. ‘And if he caught one, it would kill him. You saw what it did to Hawklan when he struck it with the sword.’ He looked earnestly at Yrain. ‘And that was a blow that would have cut down a horse and rider. No. The Vrwystin’s a formidable creature, and its eyes are not what they seem.’
‘Dar-volci caught it,’ Yrain persisted.
‘Dar-volci’s a felci,’ Andawyr replied. ‘They’re strange creatures. They can do many things that are beyond our understanding, but in any case, even if he could destroy the occasional bird that wouldn’t destroy the Vrwystin and the merest glimpse of us sneaking around Narsindal would bring Dan-Tor down on us. Or worse.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Yrain said.
‘Don’t be,’ Andawyr said, more positively. ‘Your idea wasn’t unreasonable. And it’s at least clarified the matter. I’m afraid that we have a task to perform before we can hope to attack Him. We must find the heart of the Vrwystin and kill it, if we’re to be safe from discovery.’
Hawklan remembered the power of the blow that had wrenched the sword from his hand, and the desperate struggle he had seen Andawyr waging with the bird, both at the Gretmearc and now here, in the heart of his own citadel. And if Andawyr was to be believed, the birds had each but a fraction of the Vrwystin’s true power.
Andawyr looked at him and read his doubts. ‘We’ve no choice,’ he said simply. ‘To venture out on the surface now would be to announce our presence to Dan-Tor within hours.’
Hawklan shrugged, his face pained. ‘I don’t know enough to dispute the matter with you, Andawyr,’ he said. ‘If you say it’s necessary then it’s necessary. Just tell us where we can find it and what we’ll have to do, and let’s get on with it.’
Andawyr started walking again. ‘I don’t know where the heart is,’ he said. ‘But we’re heading in the right direction. To Narsindal. And it will be underground somewhere, that much is known about the creature.’
He hitched up his pack as if he were shaking off the problem. ‘Anyway, we’ll have to concern ourselves with that later. There’ll be none of the eyes down here, and right now we’ve got a great deal of walking to do, followed by who knows what problems when we come into unknown territory.’
The group plodded on for several hours, moving through narrow, claustrophobic tunnels, through spacious caverns whose ceilings and walls extended beyond the reach of the torchlight, through smaller caves where the torches drew brilliant rainbow colours from the rocks. Not infrequently their progress was slowed by Isloman who was constantly stopping to examine rocks, to peer into shadows, and generally allow his carving instincts to obscure the true object of their journey.
‘Some day,’ he kept muttering.
Considerable alarm was caused at first by the occa-sional appearance of bright green eyes gleaming through the darkness, but these were invariably followed by a whistle and a shouted greeting from Dar-volci, which was returned in kind by the owner of the eyes.
‘Felcis abound down here,’ Andawyr declared. ‘And there are lots of other small animals and insects as well.’
‘Are you sure that’s all?’ someone asked.
‘Oh yes,’ Andawyr replied. ‘There’s been nothing nasty in this part of the caves in generations.’
There was a hint of reservation in his voice which prompted another question. ‘How many generations?’
Andawyr shrugged. ‘Later on, we may have some… problems,’ he conceded.
Further debate was ended by their arrival at another wide cavern. On one side, the floor sloped away down to a wide, fast-flowing stream. It came out of the darkness and disappeared into it.
Isloman stood for a moment looking at the slope, then he walked across to the edge of the stream. Small waves reached up from the surging flow and flowed gently over the smoothed rocky floor to lap at his feet. He looked concerned.
‘What’s the matter?’ Hawklan asked.
‘This stream’s normally lower than this,’ Isloman replied. ‘Now it’s in spate, and I’d say it’s risen only recently… ’
‘It’s the thaw,’ Dar-volci interrupted, pointing up-wards to the craggy ceiling that supported the snow-covered mountains above them. ‘Don’t worry. The water will only rise slowly. It’s the sudden summer storms that cause the real flooding.’
‘Flooding?’ came an anxious voice.
Andawyr glared at Dar-volci. ‘This part of the caves doesn’t flood-even in summer,’ he said quickly and with some force.