Gytha
put her hand to the scout's chest, it did not seem to move, she thought he
might be dead. He started, Derue's hands strained at the ropes which bound
them. Flashing, angry eyes glared up at Gytha, but the fire in them died and a
gleam of recognition took its place.
"Are
you injured?" she asked him.
He
breathed deeply, but even the filling of his lungs was restricted by the rope
wrapped about his chest.
"Didn't
you hear the falling stones or feel the rumbling?" Gytha shook her head in
wonder.
Derue
closed his eyes. He tried to rise, but just rocked back and forth. There was a
slow, careful deliberation to his movements. The rope gave a little and he
slipped his shoulder beneath a loop.
"Let
me help," Gytha tried to untie the knot, but Harald had tied it with a
ranger's skill. It tangled and the rope snarled badly around the knot, twisting
hopelessly.
As
she worked Derue kept up the movement of his back and shoulders, another loop
slipped over his head. He squirmed and shed his bonds like a snake leaving
behind a covering of skin. There were wounds around his wrists, places where
the flesh had been rubbed away, they bled. Each attempt to free himself had
cost Derue a layer of skin and a small quantity of blood.
"You're
hurt again," Gytha touched the scout's injured wrists lightly. "I
have a knife in my pack. I will cut you free, don't try anymore," she
glanced at the blood-soaked rope and he followed her eyes, "you will only
hurt yourself more."
He
nodded and stood unmoving while she went to find her pack and retrieve a knife.
***
"Gytha!"
Ghibelline called out then broke into a painful cough. Each heave sent lancing
pain through the elf's chest and he doubled over with his arms wrapped tightly
around his aching ribs.
"Help
me Telenstil, she might be injured."
"Stay
here." Telenstil commanded. "I will go and find her."
"Go
then," the wood-elf gasped, "I'll stay here, go."
Telenstil
left him behind, it was only a short way across the hall to where she had lain.
The floor was covered with stones fallen from the roof. A glance up at the
vaulting ceiling showed cracks running from pillar to pillar. The statues
themselves appeared untouched, protected no doubt by the enchantment which had
been placed on them and still lingered after countless years.
"Gytha!"
Telenstil called as he neared the small fire. He did not see her at first, his
eyes were fixed on the motionless scout. A dagger appeared in his hand unbidden
by his conscious mind, a spell was on his lips. "Gytha," he called
louder and concerned.
"I'm
here," she called back, "I'm fine. Where's Ghibelline?" she
demanded.
"Good,"
said Telenstil relieved. "Good, you were not injured?"
"Where
is Ghibelline?" Gytha abandoned the pack she'd been searching.
"A
stone hit him," Telenstil began but saw the fearful look that came over
the cleric's face, he raised his hand, "wait, he is hurt, yes, but I think
not badly. Go to him, near the pit, on this side of the chamber."
She
looked out into the dark. "Take me to him. I will need a light."
"Take
a torch," Telenstil pointed to the fire, "there were some laid by,
they should be there. What of him?" he asked looking at Derue.
"His
wrists are hurt," Gytha said as she rushed to the fire. She brushed away
dirt and debris that covered a small pile of wood and finally found a cloth
wrapped branch.
"Derue,"
Telenstil walked to the scout and looked him in the eyes. The evil madness was
gone, now there was only a deep sad emptiness.
*
* *
Light
surrounded them as they traveled the dark corridor. The amulet which Talberth wore
and the spell-enchanted torch that Harald carried burned with unnatural
brightness, unflickering, fueled by magic. Ivo slowed them down. The old gnome
was as strong and enduring as stone, but his short legs could not keep up with
those of the two humans, both tall even for their kind.
"Leave
me," he told them. "I'll catch up, go see what has happened.
"
Hah," Talberth snorted. "Would you let me stay when I wanted? No! I
am not letting you stay behind now."
"He's
right," Harald agreed. "I can carry you." The ranger had Little
Rat slung over one broad shoulder, the young orc's head and arms swinging back
and forth with every step. The weight of the bone-thin youth was nothing to the
man; the pack Harald had left behind weighed several times as much.
"Good,"
the thief said. "I'm tired of all this walking."
"I
wasn't talking to you," Harald glared down.
"Ivo
let him carry you," said Talberth.
The
old gnome grimaced. "Quite undignified. Harold I trust that you will not
include this in your stories."
"But
Ivo this is such a grand idea," smiled the halfling, "humans to ride,
much better than ponies."
"Maybe
we should just drag you behind," Harald smiled back, "I'm sure we
have some rope."