“A little more,” Mitch called from his spot beside Lynette. “Just a little further!”
A final wave of curses came from the salases, the slab deigning to move another three inches. The ceiling gave a low rumble and Lynette held her breath. Gods, please don’t let there be another cave-in. Was that far enough? Would the men be able to fit through that gap?
In the end, the decision was made for them. Rodgard’s foot slipped on the dusty ground and he went down hard, slamming his shoulder into the dirt. He spat out a flurry of curses, along with a mouthful of dust. “Alfrix’s ass, I’m fucked,” he muttered, from his prone position on the floor.
The others had eased off a moment after he fell, and now they stood, heads down, chests heaving. Koradan was bent double, resting his hands on his knees. Melowin was clinging to the wall for support, while Sigmore fell to his knees.
“Is that far enough?” Koradan asked, in between ragged gasps.
“Give it a minute to settle,” Mitch advised. “Let’s see if the ceiling’s going to hold.”
They all waited while the salases caught their breath. It must have been hugely tempting for the men inside to start trying to wriggle their way out, but if the ceiling collapsed, they’d be worse off for not having waited.
Seconds became minutes, and the rough panting of the salases faded to a quieter, slower rasp. “I think she’s holding,” Mitch said, peering dubiously at the ceiling. “Let’s see if we can get these bastards out of there, then.”
He stepped up to the gap. “Joen? You’re up. Let’s see if you can fit through.”
“Gods above, don’t tell me I need to lose some weight to get out of this shithole.” The muttered curse was loud, as everyone held their breaths to watch. Joen’s hand appeared through the gap, then his face, his right leg… then he gave a groan and a wiggle. “Fuck, it’s like being mashed up against a grindstone.” He wriggled a bit more, easing his shoulders around a knob on the rock. And then he was suddenly free, stumbling as he broke out of the narrow gap.
“Thank the fucking gods,” he gasped, while Mitch caught his hand to steady him.
“I’ll take him,” Lynette said, dashing forward. “Let me just check you out for a minute, and then Alti can show you the way out.”
But Joen didn’t move, his eyes riveted on the salases. They’d retreated a short distance, but with their horns gleaming in the lamplight and the red markings down their chests, they looked truly demonic, looming large and black in the dim light.
“It’s okay,” Lynette said to Joen. “They’re on our side. They’re not going to hurt you.”
“We’ll head out,” Koradan told Mitch, already stepping back to move away up the tunnel. “Call us if you need anything.”
Mitch nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “We’ll see you outside soon.”
Lynette watched them go, feeling a whole new flavour of unease. Koradan and his men had done their job, used their inhuman strength to achieve something that the men of the village would have found impossible, and then left without the slightest objection, with nothing more than a ‘thank you’ as a reward. The human warriors who guarded the Gate of Chalandros had been far different. They were more than willing to loudly proclaim their own achievements, lapping up the praise from the citizens of Minia, and some of the less scrupulous ones had even been willing to take credit for things they hadn’t even done. Koradan’s quiet humility was jarring in comparison.
“All right, let’s get the next one out,” Mitch ordered. “Ace, how’s that cut on your head? You feel up to getting intimately acquainted with a slab of rock?”
◊ ◊ ◊
Outside in the daylight, Koradan brushed dust and grit out of his hair and off his pants. Lynette had provided a large bucket of water and a tub to wash in last night, but it barely made a difference now. He was once again filthy and sweating, and he rolled his shoulder stiffly. He’d likely pulled a muscle dragging that god-awful slab out of the way. But despite the inevitable aches and pains, if it meant eight more men safe and reunited with their families, it was worth it.
“By Arix, that was hard work,” Sigmore muttered, trying to brush the dust off his chest and only succeeding in smearing it around more. “Gods help us if they decide they want to move it again.”
“How did it go?” Morgan rushed over to them, wringing her hands in front of her. “Did it work? Can they get out?” Her own husband, Fen, was trapped in the main tunnel.
“Joen’s out,” Koradan told her. “It’s a tight fit, but we think they can make it. It won’t be too much longer now.”
Morgan nodded and wandered off to stand with a group of women all waiting for their husbands to come out of the mine. Koradan noticed that Hetti was among them, doing her best to be supportive, despite the fact that there was still no news on her own husband, stuck at the bottom of the mine.
As if reading his thoughts, Rodgard said, “We should get started on checking out that shaft to the lower chamber.” He was surprisingly keen about the idea, given how reluctant he’d been to help the humans in the first place.
“I’m all for it, but not until the men are clear of the main tunnel,” Koradan replied. “The vreki’s idea sounds like a good one, but it runs the risk of destabilising anything that’s still loose inside the mine.”
“Once we get the all clear from Mitch, I’d like to take Bel and Mergh to get something to eat,” Sigmore said. “We’ll pick up Bnaa on the way.”
“How’s his wing this morning?” Koradan asked Melowin, a belated question, but he’d had a lot on his mind this morning.
“No worse and possibly a little better. It’s going to take another week at least to heal properly, but the stitches are holding. I’ll have to help him stretch it a bit this afternoon, or the joints will get stiff.”
“Hell of a price to pay for a few stitches,” Rodgard said, once again back into complaint mode. “If all the men get out of this tunnel, that’s thirteen lives we saved. We should be done by now.”
