The Lord of Lies: Strange Threads: Book 2 by Sam Bowring Page B

through Tarzi, not the least of which was surprise. Always she hoped to witness great deeds, but she was frightened by the idea of entering a dark cave crawling with evil creatures. Here was a chance, however, to actually do something, and had she not been lamenting a lack of such purpose just that very morning?
    Besides, Rostigan would no doubt strongly disapprove.
    Noting her hesitation, Jandryn spoke up. ‘Perhaps my suggestion is unwise,’ he said. ‘I should not like explaining to Skullrender that I lost his lady down Althala’s drains.’
    The threat of having the choice withdrawn spurred her to decision. ‘No, I shall come. Fifty of your finest, you said?’
    ‘Aye, and threaders as well.’
    Tarzi nodded. ‘I will come.’

    As they made their way along the southern road out of the city, Tarzi could not quite believe what she was doing. Being surroundedby guards was something of a comfort at least, and there were three threaders with them as well. They seemed more outwardly nervous than anyone else, and conversed amongst themselves in low voices.
    The road led down a hill and, at the bottom, they left it to enter a thick wood. From there they looped back towards Althala, the walls of which could be seen looming above the canopy, atop a cliff on the southern side. Soon she heard a river bubbling, and there, between the trees, ran the Glymph. It was not a wide river, but busy, with curls of mucky froth flowing along the surface. They followed it upstream along a rocky shore, against which skerricks of Althala’s waste collected or caught in reeds. All too soon, they came to a mossy cave at the base of the cliff from which the river emerged. Roots hung over the entrance, and there were ledges of slick rock on either side. The darkness beyond was every bit as forbidding as Tarzi had expected, and the smell was not especially pleasant either.
    As the guards formed up to wait for orders, Jandryn conversed with a small man, one of the castle architects. He gestured into the cave at the right-hand ledge.
    Tarzi swallowed, clutching her lute tightly. She wished that Rostigan were here. Then he would either send her home, or she would feel safer under his watchful gaze.
    ‘All right everyone,’ announced Jandryn, making her jump. Would the worms hear him? But then, she thought, that was what they wanted – for the worms to
come to them.
That was, in fact, the whole point of her presence.
    ‘We’re headingin. We make for the main cavern, which will take some time to reach. Threaders, light our way – one of you with me at the front, one in the middle, one at the back. We don’t know how many worms to expect, but I reckon we’ll be a match for them.’ He put a hand on his sword. ‘Won’t we?’
    The soldiers muttered affirmatives, nodding to each other. Well, they were brave, Tarzi gave them that.
    ‘When we find the bastards,’ said Jandryn, ‘we want to kill them quickly, before their magic can infect us. So weapons out at all times, whatever you favour.’
    Soldiers drew swords or notched arrows in bows.
    ‘If we see nothing before reaching the cavern, we may have to trick the beasts from hiding. Luckily we have a fine minstrel with us.’ Jandryn shot Tarzi a fierce grin, which she returned meekly. ‘Some of you may even have heard her sing already.’
    There were a few friendly nods and a woman next to Tarzi slapped her on the shoulder.
    ‘Is everyone ready?’ said Jandryn. ‘Are there any questions? Very well! Keep your wits about you, stay together, and everyone head up the right-hand side. Threaders!’
    The threaders set about sparking their torches to life with flints and daggers. As they flared, they waggled their fingers over the flames, growing them taller and tighter like amorphous fiery staffs. After a brief argument amongst their number, one of them came forward to stand with Jandryn. Together they led the way into the cave, the soldiers following closely. When it was Tarzi’s turn to