“What will you do with the dwarf female your men captured?” one of the elves was asking.
“Did they?” Sang-drax replied carelessly. “I wasn’t aware.”
“Yes, they took her while you were occupied with the Patryn. She’s in custody now, with the boy.”
Jarre! Limbeck realized. They were talking about Jarre!
Sang-drax considered. “Why, I suppose I’ll take her along. She might come in handy in future negotiations, don’t you think? If those fool elves don’t kill her first. The hatred they have for these dwarves is perfectly marvelous.”
Kill Jarre! Limbeck’s blood ran cold with shock, then burned hot with rage, then drained from his head into his stomach with the sickly feeling of remorse.
“If Jarre dies, it will be because of me,” he mumbled to himself, barely watching where he was going. “She sacrificed herself for my sake…”
“Did you hear something?” asked one of the elves who was holding on to Haplo’s legs.
“Vermin,” said Sang-drax. “The place is crawling with them. You’d think the Sartan would have taken more care. Hurry up. My men will assume I’m lost down here and I don’t want any of them deciding to play hero and come searching for me.”
“I doubt that,” said the oddly dressed elf with a laugh. “From what I’ve overheard, your men have little love for you.”
“True,” said Sang-drax implacably. “Two of them suspect me of having murdered their former captain. They’re right, of course. Quite clever of them to have figured it out, actually. A pity such cleverness will prove fatal. Ah, here we are, the entrance to the Factree. Quietly, quietly.”
The elves fell silent, all intent on listening. Limbeck— outraged, upset, and confused—came to a halt some distance behind. He knew where he was now, having recognized the entrance to the stairway that led back up to the statue of the Manger. He could still see the faint glow of the rune-mark Haplo had left behind.
“Someone’s moving about up there,” said Sang-drax. “They must have set a guard. Put him down. I’ll take it from here. You two return to your duties.”
“Yes, sir, Captain, sir.” The other elves grinned, saluted mockingly, and then—to the distraught Limbeck’s intense astonishment—both vanished.
Limbeck removed his spectacles, cleaned them. He had the vague idea that spots on the lenses might account for the elves’ disappearance. Clean lenses weren’t any help, however. Two of the elves were still gone. The elf captain was dragging Haplo to his feet.
“Wake up now.” Sang-drax slapped the Patryn’s face. “That’s it. Feeling a bit groggy? It will take you some time to fully recover from the poison’s effects. We’ll be well on our way to the Imperanon by then. Don’t worry. I’ll take over the care of the mensch, especially the child.”
Haplo could barely stand, and then he was forced to lean heavily on the elf captain. The Patryn looked extremely ill, but even then, sick as he was, he seemed loath to have anything to do with the elf. But he had no choice, apparently. He was too weak to climb the stairs on his own. If he wanted out of the tunnel, he had to accept the assistance of Sang-drax’s strong arm.
And Limbeck had no choice. The infuriated dwarf longed to rush out and confront the elf, demand Jarre’s immediate and safe return. The old Limbeck would have done so, without any regard for the consequences.
This Limbeck peered through his spectacles and saw an unusually strong elf. He recalled that the captain had mentioned other elves standing guard above, noted that Haplo was in no shape to help. Sensibly, Limbeck remained where he was, hiding in the darkness. Only when he judged by the sound of their footsteps that the two were halfway up the stairs did the dwarf pad barefooted over to crouch at the bottom.
“Captain Sang-drax, sir,” came a voice from above. “We were wondering what happened to you.”
“The prisoner ran,” said Sang-drax. “I had to go after him.”
“He ran with a knife in his shoulder?” The e!f sounded impressed.
“These damned humans are tough, like wounded animals,” said Sang-drax. “He led me a merry chase until the poison brought him down.”