Ross Lawhead by The Realms Thereunder Page B

proceeded more cautiously. There was the faint glow of two dim campfires up ahead that illuminated a wet patch of rocks where the trickle of water spilled down over a series of large, water-rounded stones to swirl in a deep pool. This pool then drained into a wide and slow-moving river.
    Daniel and Freya stared, trying to take in as much as they could in the poor light. They thought they could see the forms of two yfelgópes sitting slumped against short pikestaffs in a way that reminded Daniel of bored security guards. The knights motioned to Daniel and Freya, and the four of them headed along the river and away from the guards.
    There was more activity farther down the river. Shouts and squabbles drifted towards them above the gurgle of the water. The lights grew brighter, the campfires closer together. Foul, burnt smells wafted towards them, accompanied by ugly cackles and squawks.
    The knights paused and crouched down; Daniel and Freya drew in close to them. “We must take to the water now,” Swiðgar told them. “Be careful—the river is cold and dark and the bed will be slippery. A short distance along the river there is a rock shelf that divides the waters. It creates an underground stream that feeds many wells of the city. If we dive underneath that opening, and swim on ahead, there will be air on the other side. We will be able to climb into the city through the Western Well. Do you understand?”
    â€œYes,” said Daniel.
    â€œI think so,” answered Freya. “But how will you do it in your armour?”
    â€œThe river and its underground passage are shallow enough for Ecgbryt and me to stand at any point, though you two may have to swim. Now, I shall go first. Ecgbryt, you will come last.”
    â€œStay, broðor . Is it known what awaits us in the city?”
    â€œNo, but I do not believe it has fallen. I wist we would have known if that had come to pass.”
    â€œThat is much trust without reason.”
    â€œAn aye to that. Although I do not think the yfelgóp would be entrenched in such a fashion if they had climbed the walls. Judging from their clustered encampments, so close to the wall, this seems a siege.”
    â€œBut what of the beacon?” Ecgbryt asked. “If all was well, we would be seeing by its light right now.”
    â€œI know not,” said Swiðgar, a note of anxiety settling into his voice. “We are bound to investigate the city and discover its fate. It is to be hoped that things are not as dark within as without, but to find that we must take the river and enter through the Western Well.”
    â€œThen be it so,” Ecgbryt returned. “I trust your advice.”
    3
    The water was very cold, but quite shallow, coming up only to Daniel’s and Freya’s knees. The rocks were large and smooth, slowing them down with staggering slips, softened splashes, and swallowed grunts.
    The stream wove gently in large curves, some of which took them much closer to the yfelgóp encampments than Daniel or Freya would have liked. Most often they heard sounds of squabbling and snatches of arguments, but around one fire the ugly creatures were engaged in chanting a song that the knights later told them was a rune rhyme—a series of blunt, coarse verses describing the yfelgópes’ alphabet and system of numbering. They beat the dirt with dull thuds and recited the words in a ragged chorus:
    â€œFýr is First, it burns, it thirsts;
it feasts on flesh and fallen foes.
    â€œUrth is dirt, the Second house
we dig the dead, decayed to dust.
    â€œThorn is Third, it cuts, it carves;
a cold and cruel crown for kings.
    â€œAld is age it wastes, it wanes;
want walks Forth; when time wreaks wreck.
    â€œRech is smoke, the smog that smothers
the Fifth sense, smell. It chokes, it chars.
    â€œClaw is Sixth, it snicks, it snatches;
when sharp, it shivs, and dull, it catches.”
    The verses went on, chilling Daniel’s