Sarisin stepped carefully over broken rocks and tangled weeds. Her eyes focused on the ground, trying to avoid looking at barren land around her, or her companions. A hot burning wind cut across the plains, kicking up dust and making her eyes burn and tear. She blinked her eyes to clear away the dusty moisture. She slowed down to carefully step over the jagged remains of a tower wall, or what had been a tower, thousands of years before. Now, it was merely scattered stones and faded memories.
Even with her eyes following the ground with growing desperation, she heard the rest of her companions stop. With a deliberate effort, she dragged her eyes away from the rocky ground and looked over the sun scorched lands around her. The country around them could almost be called a desert, with only sun-bleached plants to break up the endless landscape of rock and sand. Sarisin felt her jaw tighten involuntarily as her gaze ended up on her three companions. To her growing discomfort, all three were staring back at her in expectation.
Two were brothers, Raban and Gailin. Raban always made her uncomfortable, his piercing eyes almost seeming to bore through her. He constantly fingered the polished skull hanging from a silver chain around his neck whenever she caught him looking at her. Sarisin shivered as she felt a the cold touch of apprehension stroke down her spine, the dark eyes seeing her as more than just a young woman.
Raban's brother was only slightly better. Dressed in dust-streaked leathers, he leaned against the remains of the tower wall with a sneer on his face. There was no question of his thoughts as the brown eyes traced up and down her body, leaving her feeling vulnerable. For comfort, she stroked one hand against the sheath of her dagger, trying not to think about using it.
Narrar Ulisa was the third of her companions. A dark-skinned man who had fled the slavery of Melkuth. His old life was as a servant to the women who dominated the country. Now, in Franome, he was just another mercenary. One who enjoyed hurting his women in his play. Sarisin shuddered as a memory of the last whore he'd used crossed her thoughts: the broken bones and the whimpers of pain still haunted her, even after almost a year.
Taking a better look around her, she saw a dark opening behind Gailin, a gaping scar in the sun-bleached rocks that left her feeling even colder. Above it was a tilted wall, barely balancing on another crumbling wall. The remains of a statue rested heavily on both, pinning the whole structure down in hopeful stability.
Gailin's kept looking at her, the sneer on his face growing before his eyes traveled back up, only to stop short at her breasts. Fighting the urge to cover them, Sarisin looked away. To her discomfort, she found herself looking at Narrar who was staring at her with a smile of his own. The memory of the whore came back to her and she found Gailin a better choice to look at.
The warrior chuckled and gestured to the opening, “This is it. The Tomb of Ab'asaruth.”
Raban's voice, slithering and higher-pitched, followed right after his brother's words.
“A place of power, even from here…”
The soft hunger in Raban's voice fed the feeling of cold and dread inside her, but she couldn't look away from Gailin's leer. Raban spoke up again, his voice almost begging to continue.
“Even from here, I can feel it. There is power there, endless power.” He paused for a moment, “And I can use it.”
Gailin grinned, his eyes never leaving Sarisin's breasts. “Good. I was hoping we hadn't cut that merchant's throat for no reason.”
Sarisin gasped, “You killed him? He was just an old man!”
Stepping forward, Gailin forced her back. Sarisin gave in , taking a hesitant step back herself, but her back slapped against Narrar's chest. The heavily muscled warrior instantly grabbed her, his large hands pressed against her upper arms and pinning her.
Whimpering, Sarisin tried to twist away, but Narrar just pushed her forward, his hands crushing her shoulders as he pressed her into Gailin's chest. Both warriors chuckled as the man in front of her reached up to press two grimy hands against her breasts, squeezing them roughly.
“But I think she… we should camp here tonight. Get a fresh start in the morning.”
Sarisin pleaded, trying to twist free. “No… please. Let go. Please let go.”
Both warriors laughed, but released her. She felt a hard hand against her ass, pressing against the leather armor before Narrar stepped back. The feel of their rough touch never left her skin, even as both warriors stepped away. Gailin grinned at her, making a clicking noise as his eyes dropped down to her hips.
“Don't worry, Narrar will keep you nice and warm tonight. Me? I'll just listen to the screams.”
A hot wind kicked up dust around them, tiny tornadoes spinning through the rocks before fading. Narrar and Gailin laughed and started to pull out their camping gear. Realizing she was in more danger than she had thought, Sarisin cleared her throat.
“It's still early, it might be safer inside the tomb.”
Narrar snorted, “No, it wouldn't.”
Raban finally spoke up, the hunger in his voice growing, “She might be right. There is power in there. Tonight is good.”
Gailin looked up from kneeling on the ground, pulling a tent out of his pack. "Don't be silly, Rab, we aren't prepared to handle this tonight. You have to make sure you have your wards up. Leering at Sarisin, he continued, “I wouldn't mind a comfortable night first anyway.”
Raban shook his head in disgust, “I don't care about the whore, Gailin, I want the power.”
There was an intense desire in the necromancer's voice, so strong that everyone stopped to stare at him. Raban's unblinking eyes were focused on the darkness of the tomb, as he fingered his polished skull. Gailin smoothly lifted himself to his feet and padded over, a concerned look on his face.
“It isn't safe, Rab. That's why we brought her along.”
Raban's head snapped up, eyes almost glowing with the intensity of his emotions, “Then send her in. I need it!”
Both men stared at each other for a long time before Gailin snarled and pointed at Sarisin, then towards the darkness of the tomb.
“Bitch! Get in the cave.”
“What?!”
Gailin growled, his eyes flashing over to her as the leer disappeared in an expression of pure rage.
“If you aren't in that cave in ten seconds, I'm going to gut you.”
To make his point, his hand dropped to his sword and pulled it out a few centimeters. Hot winds snapped around them, kicking up more dust that split around the exposed part of the blade. Fear shot through her and Sarisin gulped loudly. Moving quickly, she crouched near the cave opening and peered into the darkness. The entrance was a winding tunnel that quickly expanded into a deeper darkness. A cold wind, almost comfortable in the biting heat, hovered right inside the darkness, almost begging for her to enter.
Metal scraped against leather as Gailin drew more of his sword out. Sarisin shook and crawled into the opening, pushing past the first tight bulge. In the darkness, the opening was almost burning bright. She kept her back to it, allowing her eyes adjust to the darkness. Her leather armor, too hot outside, kept back the sudden cold she crawled into. The rough rock walls widened and she found herself able to stand up.
Behind her, the others were speaking softly and she could hear Raban's almost soft whine to follow her. Feeling safer in the darkness, she traced her fingers along the stone, feeling aged carving faded by time and wind. Carefully feeling with her toes, she stepped forward again, then shivered as the air grew even colder.
Stopping, she pulled out a small lantern from her pack. Snapping at the flint, the lantern ignited and cast it's dull yellow light into the opening. Even with the closeness, it felt dark and cramped. The darkness stretched out in front of her, except for the tiny circle of light around her shaking hand. Shrugging off her pack, she set it down on the ground.
“I hope they bring this with them.”
Padding forward, she let the soft leather boots feel the ground. Her movements followed the tunnel while it twisted and turned out of sight. Feeling as if she was going in circles she felt the weight of the rock above her. Millions of tons of rock almost felt comfortable compared to the promise of rape by her companions. Sighing unhappily, she shook her head.
“Damn bastards. I knew I shouldn't have said yes.”
Only silence answered her, but she continued to vent her frustration.
“Only damn group out of town. I wish the Sisters of Wenthsar were still around. Don't have to worry about being raped with them.”
A faint smile and a memory. “Okay, only from one of them.”
The tunnel grew wider and straighter. Her musing was interrupted when a hint of carved stone caught her attention. Carefully, she moved up to the edges of the tunnel and realized it was, in fact, now a hallway. Using a light touch, she caressed the rock, finding it cold and elegantly worked. Even the edge was smooth and straight, as if it had been cut just the night before.
There was no sound but her own breathing, when she peered further down the stone hallway. She could see it went on for some distance before making a hard turn to the right. Biting her lip, she slid forward carefully, every step measured, her hand trailing a feather-light touch against the stone. Smoothly fitted stones meshed neatly into the wall, with intricate carvings covering their surface. Holding her other hand up, she used the yellow light to search for signs of traps or other devices.
Sarisin reached the corner safely and she let a small smile cross her lips. Peering down the new hallway, she saw it move straight into darkness. Still moving carefully, she crept further along the hallway. Except for her puddle of light, the cold darkness was oppressive. Her shoulders hurt from her growing tension, while she strained to search for traps and pits.
She found the first one after a hundred meters. It was a blade trap of some sort. A feeling of success grew inside her as she traced her fingers along the paper-thin slashes in the rock. A tiny pile of dust showed her where the blade came out. Feeling no desire to be slashed in half, she trailed her fingers along the hallway, searching for the block to stop it. Her fingers found it after a few moments, a piece of wall that pushed in slightly. Leaning gingerly against it, it sank into the wall until a small hole appeared in the brick next to it. Her grin grew as she spotted a few slivers of wood in the hole. Digging in her pocket, she found a short piece of metal and eased it in the hole. Taking a deep breath, she released the rock. It slid out, then stopped against the metal rod.
Feeling a flush of achievement but still frightened, she careful stepped forward Then took another step. When no blade cut her in two, an involuntary giggle escaped her. She managed to smother it, and continued forward, her eyes still searching for more traps. She found three more, all blade traps and disabled them all in the same manner. Each one was placed about fifty meters further along the hallway than the last one. Her hopes grew when she found another turn, but it just led into more tunnels. After the corner, there was another blade trap which she easily disabled.
Her scouting finally stopped at an intersection of two halls. Peering down the other hallways, she saw one leading away about two hundred meters until it stopped at a glowing door. Soft whispers of power emanated from the door. Mist, the color of rotting corpses, oozed out from underneath it She had to swallow rising bile at the mere sight of it.
“Uh… no.”
The second and third doors were plain looking and much safer than the first. Going straight, she crossed the intersection and followed the hallway. It continued some distance, then made a hard turn to the left. She continued to search for traps but found none. Instead, she found the end of the hallway, where the stone had collapsed from a cave-in. Scorched rock covered the ceilings, from where a fiery explosion had taken out the hall. Along one side, she spotted an immense curved blade, easily twice her height. Jagged points covered the blade and she spotted a brown discoloration on the edge of the blade. Rust streaked along the blade and the bottom half was bent sharply along the rocks.
After only a few moments of searching, Sarisin sighed heavily.
“Damn!” Her shrill voice echoed against the stone. Clattering rocks dropped from the cave-in and she hopped away, unwilling to be pinned by falling rocks. Watching the unstable cave-in fearfully, she backed down the hallway. After a few steps, she turned around and returned to the intersection.
Her feet barely touched the center of the intersection before a terrible buzzing noise filled the hall, frightening enough to make the hairs on her arms and legs stand on end. Beneath her, the ground shook violently, the solid stone suddenly growing soft and tar-like. Her ankles screamed in agony as they were twisted, being pulled into the stone itself. She managed to scream as she stared down at the ground, in time to see it dissolve into an inky darkness below.
Sarisin had a chance to scream once more before being dragged into the darkness of the pit below. It was a short fall, barely enough time for her to register when something violently yanked at her left leg, pulling it up as the rest of her body swung down. Her right shoulder exploded in agony only a heartbeat later. Before her mind would recover from the dual explosions of pain, she hit the cold, hard ground. Her head cracked against the stone and white flashes of light swam across her vision, obscuring everything but the desperate need to breath. The impact after the fall drove the air from her lungs and she found herself silently gasping, trying to breath in panicked fear.
She started to move around, trying to get to her feet, but instead of moving, pain seared through her body from her leg and shoulder. Sarisin shrieked out at the sudden pain, then blacked out.