Gangs of Antares

Chapter eight

Chapter eightThe last chunk of rock eased away and shuttered lanternlight struck across the room beyond. A storehouse, the place smelled acridly of vegetables in store too long. Brory shouldered through the gap we had made, wasting no time, sword in fist.

Other Neemus at our back pressed on, wraithlike in the encompassing dimness. We made as little noise as possible. All the same we were well aware that the Volcanoes must soon detect our activities and take immediate action in retaliation. The buildings at the end of the row were constructed of rocks fallen from the cliffs cemented together. Further on there were wattle and daub shacks and lath and plaster houses.

Brory gestured for men to start on the opposite wall.

“Quiet, you hulus!” he snarled and the picks c*****d more delicately.