“Tie them up and dump them belowdecks,” Hunnar ordered. He paused, startled. “Belowdecks!” A sharp turn and he was over the nearest hatchway.
A simple pin and loop arrangement sufficed to dog the hatch cover down. Hunnar pulled the pin, released the loop. Up came the cover.
The anxious face of captain Ta-hoding stared up at him, blinking in the torchlight.
“We heard sounds of struggle above,” he grunted as he exited the hold. “We had hoped twould be you and our friends, Sir Hunnar.”
Sailors and soldiers streamed out on deck. They set about binding the white-robed figures. A few of the Brothers were beginning to regain consciousness. The men who’d been locked in the dark hold all evening were not particularly careful in their handling of the bodies.
“We were embarrassedly surprised, but none were hurt,” Ta-hoding informed them. “All is well now, then.”
“All is not well,” countered Hunnar as the two tran walked over to where Ethan and September stood. “Three of our friends are held still in the lair of these monsters.”
Ta-hoding sputtered. “Counterwind! We must mount an expedition, then! Besiege the place and—”
September shook his head slowly. “No, my good captain. It cannot be done that way.”
“Sir Skua is right, Ta,” said Hunnar. “Those virians above will probably assume we’ve been taken by their minions here.” Said minions were now being unceremoniously hauled below. “But even so, they will post guards upon the stairway. Not to do so would be an act of such cub intelligence that I cannot think they would fail to do it. A few could hold the entrance to the monastery against an army. Which,” he continued, turning to September, “worries me greatly, friend Skua. How are we to rescue our companions?”
“Frankly, Hunnar, I’d been too busy the last hour to give it much thought. Let’s see, now…”
“I suppose we’ll have to find a way around them,” said Ethan hesitantly.
“Sir Ethan,” reminded Hunnar a bit impatiently, “there is no way around. There is but the single carefully watched entrance, with a sheer drop on one side and, I venture to say, equal precipitousness on the other.”
“I agree,” said September. “It will have to be a small group in any case. Too many people… too much noise and movement.” He turned to Ta-hoding. “Captain, is there any climbing gear on board?”
Ta-hoding was obviously contused, and with reason. Mountaineering was not an art practiced by his folk.
“Climbing gear? Well… we have rope, of course, but I do not know what you mean by ‘gear.’ ”
“I see. Another problem.” September grunted. “My fault. I should have guessed you wouldn’t know a crampon from a creampuff. Glassfeathers!”
“Strange words,” said Hunnar. “More of your odd devices, friend Skua?”
“In a sense.” The big man stared thoughtfully at the deck for a moment, then back at the knight. “Do we carry any kind of solid, strong hooks on board?”
“Hooks?” The red-tinged mane shook. Then he brightened. “Why surely! We must have a number of fine boarding grapples, taken on the last attack. They would be in the armory.”
“Those would be perfect.”
“Suaxus!” snapped Hunnar. The squire nodded and disappeared down the hatchway.
“What do you think, young feller-me-lad?”
“Well, actually,” replied Ethan, who’d listened to the progress of the conversation with the fascination of a bird watching the approach of a king snake, “I’ve always been kind of afraid of heights and—”
“Nonsense, lad, nonsense! All in your mind. Just don’t look down… course, climbing at night’ll be a little rough, but there’s nothing to it, what?”
“Oh sure.”
September looked at them all intently. “Now, we’ll stop at the last bend in the stairway, just out of sight of the monastery entrance. If we’re lucky they’ll still be occupied with Hunnar’s fire. They won’t be looking for anyone to be dropping in on ’em from above. I’ll plant the first grapple… ”
XIV
THE ROOM WASN’T VERY large, and the members of the Brotherhood filled it to capacity. Each pressed close upon the other for a better look at the minions of the Dark One. Real infidels were rarely available for purging and none among the Brotherhood wanted to miss the infrequent, interesting ceremonies.
Light from lamps and lanterns surrounding the curved circular room threw dancing shadows against the dome. High braziers were filled with burning oil and wood. The stars shone brightly through the round skylight.
Three bronze basins with sloping bottoms flashed green-gold on the paved floor. Each contained a single body with head set higher than feet. Hellespont du Kane was the tallest of the three and his head did not reach the top of the basin. Like the others he was tightly bound with his hands fixed to his sides.
Milliken Williams occupied the basin to his right, with Colette to his left. She’d managed to break the bonds on her feet early and leave a number of very sore Brothers in her wake, but to no avail.
The Brothers had slowly been filling the basins with water, a bucket at a time, brought in from the melting room.
Since the room was not heated, the cold night air of Tran-ky-ky was gradually freezing each successive dose of water. The captives were now encased up to the shoulders in a jacket of diamond-clear ice.
Colette continued to rain verbal destruction on the gathering in several languages, none of which the Brothers understood. A small chorus of same continued to moan the same unmelodic drone they’d sung since the water-pouring had begun. Only their superb survival suits had kept the captives from serious frostbite thus far—and these wouldn’t help when the ice rose over their heads.
Colette looked from her father, motionless in both ice and trance, and then up at the watching Brothers.
“We’ve done nothing to you. Why are you doing this thing?”
The kindly Prior stared amusedly down at her. “Tch! That a servant of the Dark One should have the audacity to ask for mercy.”
“Listen,” she sighed tiredly, giving a little shiver. The cold was beginning to exceed her suit’s capacity to withstand it. “We don’t even know what your damned Dark One is! If you’re moronic enough to believe that we’re the disciples of some local devil of yours, I feel sorry for you!”
“No, She, it is I who must be sorry for you,” replied the Prior righteously. “Tis known to all that the Place-Where-The-Earth’s-Blood-Burns is the home of the Dark One himself. From whatever homeland people come, all know that. Twas fortunate that you inadvertently revealed your destination to us, so that we could take proper steps. We are not ignorant peasants here!”
He looked skyward into the night. “And as you shall partake of the Cold that has held our beloved home, lo, these many centuries, so shall the Time of the Final Warming be brought closer!” He looked back at her. “That is our end and goal.”
“Look here.” Williams was feeling the cold more than any of them and now he was having trouble speaking. “If we’re minions of this Dark One or not, freezing us isn’t going to heat your world.”
“Tis written in the Great Old Books that for every servant of the Dark One who is returned to the primeval cold, our world shall grow a little warmer, a little softer, a little greener. To this end is the Brotherhood pledged!”
“Listen,” continued the schoolmaster desperately, ‘Tran-ky-ky might be made warm and green again. My people know a process called terraforming that could conceivably melt this ice and raise the planetary temperature. But you couldn’t adapt if it were to happen in your lifetime. Besides, you’d all drown.”