Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [152]
“We are Torgun,” said Farinn. “We stand together. There should be no talk of leaving anyone behind.”
The others nodded their agreement.
“We will wait for Aylaen,” said Sigurd, annoyed. “And while we’re waiting, we might as well take a look around.”
He shoved on the bronze door, and, holding the torch high and his sword tight, he entered the burial cave. The men came after him.
The first section of the catacombs was the oldest. Small niches had been carved into the rock walls. Inside the niches were porcelain urns. The Torgun had never heard of cremation, and they had no idea what these urns were for. Aki wanted to open one, but Grimuir told him it might be some offering to the dead and that he should leave it alone.
The catacombs extended on into the hillside. The niches grew larger. Burning the dead was no longer fashionable. Bodies were entombed in sarcophagi—receptacles carved out of stone. At first these were plain, but as the family’s fortunes improved, the sarcophagi became more elaborate and were topped by life-size statues of the dead.
Marble matriarchs, their hands folded on their breasts, lay in repose beside soldiers, whose hands clasped the hilts of marble swords. The Torgun could not read, but they guessed that the words carved into the niches above the tombs or sometimes on the tombs themselves were the names of the dead.
The Torgun were hushed as they walked the silent catacombs. Every man could feel the thread of his wyrd stretch and quiver. At any moment, it could snap. Suddenly they came to a niche where the corpse had not been entombed. The men came to a halt, shaken by the sight of the ghastly figure.
The skeletal remains, draped in rotting cloth, reclined on the stone as though seated on a couch. The flickering torchlight caused the shadows in the eye sockets to stir. Sigurd stopped to stare in horror, like the others, then he feared they might think he was frightened. He steeled himself and marched on, saying he was going to investigate. He did not go far, however, for there was no place to go. The catacombs came to an end. He faced a solid rock wall.
Sigurd stared at the wall in teeth-grinding fury. He bashed at the wall with the hilt of his sword and beat on it with his hands. The wall did not move. Behind him, the Torgun were silent.
Sigurd turned to face them. “We have come the wrong way. There must be a place where the tunnels branch off, and we missed it.”
“We didn’t miss anything,” said Bjorn.
“Go back!” Sigurd roared.
The men started to retrace their steps. Passing by the tombs had been bad the first time. Now it was worse. They seemed to see eyes, hear voices. They quickened their pace and a few started running.
“Keep watch!” Sigurd ordered. “You’ll miss the turn-off—”
A blast of hot air doused the light of his torch, leaving him in darkness. Sigurd was not worried. He could see the flickering lights of the other torches some distance away and he yelled, “Erdmun, my torch blew out! Bring me a light.”
Erdmun did not answer.
“Someone bring me a light! What is the matter with you pissants? Don’t tell me you are afraid of a bunch of bones!” Sigurd called out.
Still no one answered him and his annoyance changed to anger. He was Chief and yet no one obeyed him. They were continually questioning his orders, arguing with him. Wait for Skylan, they said. To the daemons with Skylan. There were tunnels that led to the sea. There had to be.
Sigurd walked on, moving slowly, feeling his way through the darkness.
“Grimuir!” he shouted, calling upon a trusted ally. “Bring me a torch!”
Finally, someone obeyed him. He could see light shining on fair hair and a beardless face. Sigurd recognized Farinn and he let out a gusty sigh. He didn’t like to admit it, but he had been starting to grow nervous.
“About damn time!” he said angrily.
Farinn came to a halt. He stood in a pool of light, a battle-axe in his hand. Sigurd snatched the torch from him.
“What’s the matter with you? Why do you stare at me like that?” Sigurd demanded.
Farinn made no answer. Gripping his axe with