Thieves World 5 – The Face of Chaos by Asprin, Robert

line of perforations did not quite open the cask, but they would permit him to

smash his heel through the weakened boards quickly

when the need arose.

He was more aware than before of the lantern’s hot shell as he paced the rest of

the tunnel’s length. He could hear someone above him when he reached the end of

the tunnel. The susurrus could have been anything, wind-driven twigs as easily

as the slippers of a guard on the floor above. There was a sharper sound to

punctuate that whispering, however; a spear grounded as the man paused, or the

tip of a bow. The stone conducted sounds very well, but it conducted them so

well that Samlor could not get a precise fix on where the guard was in relation

to the trap door. For that matter, the caravan-master had no idea of how well

the upward-pivoting door was concealed. It might very well flop open in the

centre of the room above.

The good news was that the sounds did not include speech. Either the guard was

alone, or the party was more stolid than the random pacing seemed to suggest.

Samlor needed more information than he could get in the tunnel. There would be

no better time to learn more. He shuttered his lantern and slid the worn bronze

bolt from its socket in the door jamb. There were stone pegs set into the end

wall as a sort of one-railed ladder. Samlor set his right foot on the midmost,

where his leg was flexed just enough to give him its greatest thrust. His right

hand held the dagger while his left readied itself on the trap door. Then the

Cirdonian exploded upward like a spring toy.