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A great circle had been formed, and there were ten of them at least, these creatures. I saw young ones, old ones, men and women, a young boy -- and all clothed in the remnants of human garments, caked with earth, feet bare, hair tangled with filth. There was the woman I had spoken to on the stairs, her well-shaped body clothed in a filthy robe, her quick black eyes glinting like jewels in the dirt as she studied us. And beyond these, the advance guard, were a pair in the shadows beating the kettledrums.
I begged silently for strength. I tried to hear Nicolas without actually thinking of him. Solemn vow: l shall get us all out of here, though at the moment I do not know exactly how.
The drumbeat was slowing, becoming an ugly cadence that made the alien feeling of fear a fist against my throat. One of the torchbearers approached.
I could feel the anticipation of the others, a palpable excitement as the flames were thrust at me.
I snatched the torch from the creature, twisting his right hand until he was flung down on his knees. With a hard kick, I sent him sprawling, and as the others rushed in, I swung the torch wide driving them back.
Then defiantly, I threw down the torch.
This caught them off guard and I sensed a sudden quietness. The excitement was drained away, or rather it had lapsed into something more patient and less volatile.
The drums beat insistently, but it seemed they were ignoring the drums. They were staring at the buckles on our shoes, at our hair, and at our faces, with such distress they appeared menacing and hungry. And the young boy, with a look of anguish, reached out to touch Gabrielle.
"Get back!" I hissed. And he obeyed, snatching up the torch from the ground as he did.
But I knew it for certain now -- we were surrounded by envy and curiosity, and this was the strongest advantage we possessed.
I looked from one to the other of them. And quite slowly, I commenced to brush the filth from my frock coat and breeches. I smoothed my cloak as I straightened my shoulders. Then I ran a hand through my hair, and stood with my arms folded, the picture of righteous dignity, gazing about.
Gabrielle gave a faint smile. She stood composed, her hand on the hilt of her sword.
The effect of this on the others was universal amazem
ent. The dark-eyed female was enthralled. I winked at her. She would have been gorgeous if someone had thrown her into a waterfall and held her there for half an hour and I told her so silently. She took two steps backwards and pulled closed her robe over her breasts. Interesting. Very interesting indeed.
"What is the explanation for all this?" I asked, staring at them one by one as if they were quite peculiar. Again Gabrielle gave her faint smile.
"What are you meant to be?" I demanded. "The images of chain-rattling ghosts who haunt cemeteries and ancient castles?"
They were glancing to one another, getting uneasy. The drums had stopped.
"My childhood nurse many a time thrilled me with tales of such fiends," I said. "Told me they might at any moment leap out of the suits of armor in our house to carry me away screaming. " I stomped my foot and dashed forward. "IS THAT WHAT YOU ARE?" They shrieked and shrank back.
The black-eyed woman didn't move, however.
I laughed softly.
"And your bodies are just like ours, aren't they?" I asked slowly. "Smooth, without flaw, and in your eyes I can see evidence of my own powers. Most strange. . . "
Confusion coming from them. And the howling in the walls seemed fainter as if the entombed were listening in spite of their pain.
"Is it great fun living in filth and stench such as this?" I asked. "Is that why you do it?"
Fear. Envy again. How had we managed to escape their fate?
"Our leader is Satan," said the dark-eyed woman sharply. Cultured voice. She'd been something to reckon with when she was mortal. "And we serve Satan as we are meant to do. "
"Why?" I asked politely.
Consternation all around.
Faint shimmer of Nicolas. Agitation without direction. Had he heard my voice?
"You will bring down the wrath of God on all of us with your defiance," said the boy, the smallest of them, who couldn't have been more than sixteen when he was made. "In vanity and wickedness you disregard the Dark Ways. You live among mortals! You walk in the places of light. "
"And why don't you?" I asked. "Are you to go to heaven on white wings when this penitential sojourn of yours is ended? Is that what Satan promises? Salvation? I wouldn't count on it, if I were you. "
