Magician. Raymond E. Feist

tunnel. Dolgan turned to the company. ‘You might have to duck a bit here and there, but many a mule has been led through here by dwarven miners. There should be ample room.’

      Pug smiled. The dwarves proved taller than tales had led him to expect, averaging about four and a half to five feet tall. Except for being short-legged and broad-shouldered, they looked much like other people. It was going to be a tight fit for the Duke and Gardan, but Pug was only a few inches taller than the dwarf, so he’d manage.

      Gardan ordered torches lit, and when the party was ready, Dolgan led them into the mine. As they entered the gloom of the tunnel, the dwarf said, ‘Keep alert, for only the gods know what is living in these tunnels. We should not be troubled, but it is best to be cautious.’

      Pug entered and, as the gloom enveloped him, looked over his shoulder. He saw Gardan outlined against the receding light. For a brief instant he thought of Carline, and Roland, then wondered how she could seem so far removed so quickly, or how indifferent he was to his rival’s attentions. He shook his head, and his gaze returned to the dark tunnel ahead.

      The tunnels were damp. Every once in a while they would pass a tunnel branching off to one side or the other. Pug peered down each as he passed, but they were quickly swallowed up in gloom. The torches sent flickering shadows dancing on the walls, expanding and contracting as they moved closer or farther from each other, or as the ceiling rose or fell. At several places they had to pull the mules’ heads down, but for most of their passage there was ample room.

      Pug heard Tomas, who walked in front of him, mutter, ‘I’d not want to stray down here; I’ve lost all sense of direction.’ Pug said nothing, for the mines had an oppressive feeling to him.

      After some time they came to a large cavern with several tunnels leading out. The column halted, and the Duke ordered watches to be posted. Torches were wedged in the rocks and the mules watered. Pug and Tomas stood with the last watch, and Pug thought a hundred times that shapes moved just outside the fire’s glow. Soon guards came to replace them, and the boys joined the others, who were eating. They were given dried meat and biscuits to eat. Tomas asked Dolgan, ‘What place is this?’

      The dwarf puffed on his pipe. ‘It is a glory hole, laddie. When my people mined this area, we fashioned many such places. When great runs of iron, gold, silver, and other metals would come together, many tunnels would be joined. And as the metals were taken out, these caverns would be formed. There are natural ones down here as large, but the look of them is different. They have great spires of stone rising from the floor, and others hanging from the ceiling, unlike this one. You’ll see one as we pass through.’

      Tomas looked above him. ‘How high does it go?’

      Dolgan looked up. ‘I can’t rightly say. Perhaps a hundred feet, perhaps two or three times as much. These mountains are rich with metals still, but when my grandfather’s grandfather first mined here, the metal was rich beyond imagining. There are hundreds of tunnels throughout these mountains, with many levels upward and downward from here. Through that tunnel there’ – he pointed to another on the same level as the floor of the glory hole – ‘lies a tunnel that will join with another tunnel, then yet another. Follow that one, and you’ll end up in the Mac Bronin Alroth, another abandoned mine. Beyond that you could make your way to the Mac Owyn Dur, where several of my people would be inquiring how you managed entrance into their gold mine.’ He laughed. ‘Though I doubt you could find the way, unless you were dwarven born.’

      He puffed at his pipe, and the balance of the guards came over to eat. Dolgan said, ‘Well, we had best be on our way.’