Pawn in Frankincense - Dorothy Dunnett [307]
The path had begun to drop steeply. There was some kind of aperture, heavily barred, on their right, and then the tunnel plunged ahead into darkness. She thought she could detect some distance ahead a cleared fork, with a passage running off to the right while the main channel went on, steadily climbing. Behind them, Lymond’s voice said softly, ‘Stop.’
They all halted but Gaultier. It was Gilles who wound his powerful fingers into his arm, and holding him, gave a short, curious whistle.
There was no sound. But a shadow detached itself from other, different shadows and, racing towards them, flung itself on Pierre Gilles. Philippa swallowed. It was a cat. No, it was a long-bodied grey beast like a cat, with a small, pointed black muzzle, and whiskers and little round ears. It sniffed round the anatomist’s face and beard, apparently in affection, and then slipped down his body and stood before them on the path, head tilted and one paw upraised. Then, silently, it ran backwards and forwards into the depths of the tunnel, pausing every third or fourth time to look up at its master.
They all stood where they were, thought Philippa, bewitched as if the beast had been one of Archie’s pet tigers. Then Gilles bent, and scooping the animal up, turned to Lymond and jerked his great head. Jerott saw it too. Arms outspread, in silence he began pushing them all back, up the hill of the tunnel, and blew out the torches.
Lymond’s lamp was still lit. He transferred Kuzúm to Philippa’s arms and turned again down the passage, his voice muted but clear. He said, ‘No, I was wrong. We hadn’t gone far enough. It’s there, just to the right.’ And swinging the lamp, he walked on downhill, making a lot of quiet noise. Behind him, they all stood in the dark in their places, Archie’s hand this time on Gaultier’s shoulder. Marthe stood quite still. It was Jerott who, after a moment, swore under his breath and, leaving them, moved off after Lymond, talking in the same kind of voice. Philippa saw Lymond’s one angry gesture, waving him back, but Jerott walked on downhill, ignoring it. He got to the bottom and smiled; and Philippa saw Lymond smile in return. Then Lymond’s voice said, ‘Hell. The light’s gone out.’
The lamp had indeed vanished. For a moment nothing more happened, then Philippa heard Jerott’s voice say in the blackness, ‘Look, let’s go round to the room. We can relight it there. Put out your hand to the right. There’s the wall.…’
The footsteps in the darkness started again, going slowly. Behind Philippa, with the smallest of chinks, Archie Abernethy got out his sword.
It must have been only seconds after that that she was aware of someone coming towards her: two sets of footsteps, crushing the small stones in spite of their stealth. Not Lymond or Jerott, but men of heavier build, whose hoarse breathing they could all hear. Then she felt Archie move, and then Míkál, and there was a trampling, covered by the greater noise made by the two men walking ahead. The breathing became wild and was cut off: someone made a noise in his throat. Then she felt Míkál, breathing lightly, slip back beside her, and after a moment Archie came too. Of the two strangers there was no sign at all.
Silence fell, disturbed only by the footfalls of Jerott and Lymond, out of sight far ahead in the short passage leading, she guessed, to the treasure room. Then the sounds came to a halt and she heard their voices, arguing evidently about relighting the lamp, which was clearly giving some trouble. In the end, it stayed unlit, for no bloom of light reached them from the arm of the passage, and indeed there came a brief silence, presumably as they let themselves down to the chamber. Gaultier jerked, and Archie’s hand dug into his arm.
The second set of hurried footsteps, much lighter than the first, made themselves heard just as a greater noise erupted suddenly from the far rising end of the conduit. The noise this time of many men with lanterns, rushing downhill towards them and turning along that same junction where the treasure room lay. The sound