Spelunker’s Triskadekaphobia
Not without regret, they parted ways with their wagon at the mouth of the cave, Reynir leading their horses over to where several others were hitched. “Ah, it’ll be here for us when we get back,” Sigrun predicted confidently. The others, save Reynir, were far less sanguine about the prospect of their return, but didn’t say so.
They were not alone, of course. The fact of other horses being hitched outside the cave merely confirmed what Lalli already knew from traces here and there: perhaps two dozen or more men awaited them inside the cave. Well, they’d faced worse before.
*
Battling in a cave is easier and harder than one might think, unless one paused to consider the various factors involved in making it so.
As to the harder: if you use any form of gunpowder, not only do you risk bringing the roof down, but you deafen yourself and foul the air. Besides, few caves afford the opportunity for anything but up-close-and-personal work, so guns lose their chief advantage. This was why Sigrun had Emil leave his kit behind, making sure he and Lalli had Bowie knives like hers ready for action.
As to the easier, on the other hand, snares, traps and ambuscades are nearly childishly simple in such surroundings, assuming you have a good route of retreat and sufficient time to prepare. Fortunately, between Lalli’s sharp eyes and Sigrun’s nose for danger, the intrepid band evaded all such in their path, until they were just behind the Man in the Black Hat and his retinue of thugs.
The brawl that followed was ugly in many ways. Suffice it to say that the Man in the Black Hat lost more than a dozen men, but they held the six opposing them back more than long enough for the Man in the Black Hat himself to escape with his own handful (or so) of followers, including the hired gun.
*
Eventually, they were all cleaned up and ready to pursue the Man in the Black Hat, but a new problem arose after they had made their way down the tunnel. The way ahead split into seven or eight passages (assuming one or more didn’t join back up), and there was no telling which one the Man in the Black Hat had used.
“Great,” Sigrun said to no one in particular. “What do we do now?”
“We choose,” Reynir said in a deep, portentous voice, his sudden speech and its unwonted manner startling the others.
Sigrun turned, ready to give a sarcastic reply, but the look on Reynir’s face stopped her. “Go on,” she said instead.
“We must choose which path to take, but this choice is more than it seems. The windings of the Cave may take us very far afield, but ever we shall return, whether in triumph or defeat.” Reynir paused, then continued in a more normal voice, “Oh, and the Man in the Black Hat has kind of a big head start on us, so we need to get a move on.”
“Ya think?” Now Sigrun felt confident enough to essay a snipe or two. “Let’s go, then, unless your boots have taken root.” Picking a path more or less at random, she set off briskly, the others swiftly following.
*
The Man in the Black Hat stepped out into the bright sunlight, the hired gun and a few others close behind. Yes, this would do nicely as their first stop. “Do any of you still have your charges?” the Man in the Black Hat called.
The pause that followed the question gave the hired gun hope, which died as soon as one of the others said, “I have mine, right here and unspoiled.” The hired gun felt his stomach twist at the thought of what they were and what they could do even as several others echoed the first.
The Man in the Black Hat smiled horrifically. Pointing at the first speaker, he said, “Then turn the Beast loose, and let the Rash descend upon this place like a nightmare.”
*
Well, this path had certainly gone down the drain. Literally so, as they emerged into a series of most disgusting drain tunnels. By dumb luck, they eventually climbed out and onto a dimly lit and apparently ill-traveled city street by a ramshackle place bearing the name “Andersen’s Joint”. Though the night was obviously well advanced, they could hear the sound of revelry inside.
“Might as well see what’s what,” Lalli said, opening the door.
They had barely stepped inside before Taru Walks-the-World--Hollola according to her name-tag--accosted them. “Where on earth have you been? Trond’s furious--you need to get on stage as soon as you can!” With these and many other words, she ushered them back to the minuscule prep area behind the stage.
Doc Mikkel addressed Sigrun. “We need the low-down on what’s what, or we’re sunk.”
Sigrun smirked. “What, you think any of these high-falutin’ city dudes are going to have any clue about what’s going on?”
“I might, if you’ll listen.” The speaker, a small and very old woman, stepped forward from where she had stood unnoticed in the doorway. With a shock, the others recognized her as Tuuri, a Tuuri grown ancient before their eyes. “After all, that’s why I’m here...”
