Shadow of the Warmaster

8

Elmas Ofka checked the sketch Toma Indiz drew for her; it was hard to make out even with the pinlight held close to the crumpled paper, the lines were shaky and pale. Left from the kitchen. Done that. Two turns, door, probably locked, could be barred from the inside. They’d taken care of that, no resistance at all as the cutter sliced through the lock’s bolt. Bit of leather folded up and shoved under the door to hold it shut because it had a tendency to swing open and they didn’t want to attract the attention of any insomniacs who got a notion to ramble, you want to watch out for those, Elli, they can wreck the best plan there is. Scared the shit out of me when I was busting out; Prophet bless, he was as scared of me and a lot less ready and I tunked him on the head before he could yell. Left again, keep going past five doors, stop at the fifth, there should be a sharp curve ahead. Round that curve the corridor splits into three branches. If Herk’s just holding the boys until a ship leaves for Tassalga, they’ll be in a tank at the end of the right arm. There, see, where I drew the circle. If he had them under question and is finished with them and they’re still alive, then they’ll be in the infirmary, that’s here, along the middle way, cells here and here, treatment room there. If he’s still working on them, go left and down, keep going down. The question chambers are deep enough so Herk’s guests, if he ever has any, can’t hear the screams. There’s a sentry on each level, at least there was when old Grouch was working on me. I doubt little Herk has changed things much. You have to take them out, you don’t want them there when you’re leaving, you’re apt to be in a hurry and maybe carrying one or more of the boys. First though, everything past that curve is being monitored. Camera eye in the ceiling. The guards are watching the screens down in the anteroom to the question chamber. You can’t get at them without passing the pickup, so you’ll have to take it out. One thing you’ve got going for you, the wiring in that place is hopeless, things are always shorting out. There’s a good chance the guards won’t bother trying to fix the system before morning.

She touched Lirrit Ofka’s arm.

The isya nodded, dropped to her stomach close to the wall. She extended a collapsible tube painted black, eased it around the bend, put her eye to the viewer. She lifted her head, wriggled forward a few spans, looked again, repeated the process until all Elmas Ofka could see of her were feet in the soft black mocs with a gray dust smear like a crayon rubbing on the soles, footprints clinging to the bottom of her feet.

Lirrit Ofka rolled over, there was a faint hum, a tinkle. She rolled back, crept forward again, her feet vanishing. For several seconds there was a tense silence broken only by the near inaudible rub of cloth against stone, then even that stopped, then the isya came trotting back. She grinned, gave them a thumb salute. Keeping her voice low but not bothering to whisper, she said, “There was just the one. I spotted the guard, took him out. Dart this time. You hear it?”

“Uh-uh. How fast?”

“Got him in the neck. I think he thought a bug had bit him, he started to raise his hand, poop! down he went.”

“Alert?”

“Nah. Leaning against the wall half asleep.”

“I see.” She thought a minute. “We won’t change plans. Question chamber first, the other cells on our way back. Any objections? Good. Let’s go.”

Elmas Ofka and her isyas took out the drowsy sentries as they came on them with as little trouble as Lirrit had with the first; they left the men propped against a wall as if they slept sitting with their weapons beside them. Down and down the women went, through latched but not locked doors, running silent as hunting cats through the dimly lit corridors and down the spiraling stair flights. Empty corridors. Not even a rat prowling them, let alone an insomniac.

The door into the lowest level was locked and barred.

Elmas Ofka waved the others back, swung the spotter in a wide arc, watching the bright green line that trembled across the readout. The walls were thick stone, N’Ceegh had warned her she couldn’t fully trust the sensors if that stone had traces of metal and most of the stone the old fathers used was like that. The line wobbled in one place but she didn’t know if that was her hand or a sign. She swung the spotter back, held it still where she’d seen the tremble. After a moment she was sure she was seeing a spike. She moved the sensor array a hair to the left, another spike. She counted four spikes and a wiggle that might have been another, or a rat in the wall. She thumbed off the spotter and slid it away. “Four,” she said, “maybe another. Off that way.” She pointed. “Hri cousin, you and Lri cousin be ready to jump soon’s we get the door open. Ti cousin, you and May cousin and Hay cousin back them up. Ji cousin, handle the cutting. Then you and Bi cousin stand watch out here. Questions? Right. Let’s move.”