Dragons of Spring Dawning - Margaret Weis [155]
Berem eagerly sloshed ahead of him, but Caramon dragged him back again.
“We’ll stick together,” the big man said, his deep voice echoing in the cavern. “There may be more traps, worse than that one.”
Berem hesitated long enough for Caramon to join him. Then they moved slowly, side by side, through the rushing water, testing each footstep, for the bottom was slick and treacherous with crumbling stone and loose rock.
Caramon was wading forward, breathing easier, when something struck his leather boot with such force it nearly knocked his feet out from under him. Staggering, he caught hold of Berem.
“What was that?” he growled, holding the flaring torch above the water.
Seemingly attracted by the light, a head lifted out of the shining wet blackness. Caramon sucked in his breath in horror, and even Berem was momentarily taken aback.
“Dragons!” Caramon whispered. “Hatchlings!” The small dragon opened its mouth in a shrill scream. Torchlight gleamed on rows of razor-sharp teeth. Then the head vanished and Caramon felt the creature strike at his boot once more. Another one hit his other leg; he saw the water boil with flailing tails.
His leather boots kept them from hurting him now, but, Caramon thought, if I fall, the creatures will strip the flesh from my bones!
He had faced death in many forms, but none more terrifying than this. For a moment he panicked. I’ll turn back, he thought frantically. Berem can go on alone. After all, he can’t die.
Then the big warrior took hold of himself. No, he sighed. They know we’re down here now. They’ll send someone or something to try and stop us. I’ve got to hold off whatever it is until Berem can do whatever he’s supposed to do.
That last thought made no sense at all, Caramon realized. It was so ludicrous it was almost funny and, as if mocking his decision, the quiet was broken by the sound of clashing steel and harsh shouts, coming from behind them.
This is insane! he admitted wearily. I don’t understand! I may die down here in the darkness and for what? Maybe I’m down here with a crazy man! Maybe I’m going crazy!
Now Berem became aware of the guards coming after them. This frightened him more than dragons, and he plunged ahead. Sighing, Caramon forced himself to ignore the slithering attacks at his feet and legs as he waded forward through the black, rushing water, trying to keep up with Berem.
The man stared constantly ahead into the darkness, occasionally making moaning sounds and wringing his hands in anxiety. The stream led them around a curve where the water grew deeper. Caramon wondered what he would do if the water rose higher than his boots. The dragon young were still frantically chasing after them, the warm smell of human blood and flesh driving them into a frenzy. The sounds of sword and spear rattling grew louder.
Then something blacker than night flew at Caramon, striking him in the face. Flailing, trying desperately to keep from falling into that deadly water, he dropped his torch. The light vanished with a sizzle as Berem made a wild grab for him and caught him. The two held onto each other for a moment, staring—lost and confused—into the darkness.
If he had been struck blind, Caramon could not have been more disoriented. Though he had not moved, he had no idea what direction he faced, he couldn’t remember a thing about his surroundings. He had the feeling that if he took one more step, he would plunge into nothingness and fall forever.…
“There it is!” Berem said, catching his breath with a strangled sob. “I see the broken column, the jewels gleaming on it! And she is there! She is waiting for me, she has waited all these years! Jasla!” he screamed, straining forward.
Peering ahead into the darkness, Caramon held Berem back, though he could feel the man’s body quivering with emotion. He could see nothing