'Not someone,' said Hawk. 'Me. Get me a length of rope and a lantern.'
He started stripping off his cloak and furs. Fisher moved in close beside him.
'You don't have to do this, Hawk.'
'Yes I do.'
'You couldn't have known this would happen.'
'I should have thought, instead of just barging straight in.'
'That shaft isn't stable. It could collapse at any time.'
'I know that. Keep an eye on my furs and my axe, would you? This is Haven, after
all.'
He stood by the shaft in his shirt and trousers, looking down into the darkness,
and shivered suddenly, not entirely from the cold. He didn't like dark, enclosed
places, particularly underground, and the whole situation reminded him
uncomfortably of a bad experience he'd once had down a mine. He didn't have to
go down the shaft. There were any number of others ready to volunteer. But if he
didn't do it, he'd always believe he should have.
Someone came back with a length of rope, and Fisher fastened one end round his
waist. Someone else tied the other end to a sturdy outcropping of broken stone,
and Hawk and Fisher took turns tugging on the rope to make sure it was secure.
One of the men gave him a lantern, and he held it out over the shaft. The pale
golden light didn't penetrate far into the darkness. He listened, but couldn't
hear anything. The hole itself was about three feet in diameter and looked
distinctly unsafe. Hawk shrugged. It wouldn't get any safer, no matter how long
he waited. He sat down on the edge, very slowly and very carefully, swung his
legs over the side, and then lowered himself into the darkness, bracing his back
and his knees against the sides of the shaft. He took a deep breath and let it
out, and then inch by inch he made his way down into the darkness, the lantern
resting uncomfortably on his chest.
Jagged edges of stone and wood cut at him viciously as he descended, and the
circle of daylight overhead grew smaller and smaller. He moved slowly down in
his pool of light, stopping now and again to call out to the child below, but
there was never any reply. He pressed on, cursing the narrow confines around him
as they bowed in and out, and soon came to the bottom of the shaft. He held up
the lantern and looked around him. Rough spikes of broken wood and stone
protruded from every side, and a dozen openings led off into the honeycomb of
wreckage. Most were too small or too obviously unsafe for him to try, but one
aperture led into a narrow tunnel barely two feet high. Hawk called out to the
child, but there was only the silence and his own harsh breathing. He looked
back up the main shaft, but all he could see was darkness. He was on his own. He
looked again at the narrow tunnel, cursed again briefly, and got down on his
hands and knees.
The rope played out behind him as he wriggled his way through the tunnel
darkness in his narrow pool of light, stopping now and then to manoeuvre past
outcroppings from the tunnel walls. The child had to be around here somewhere.
He couldn't have come all this way for nothing. He thought briefly about the
sheer weight of wreckage pressing from above, and his skin went cold. The roof
of the tunnel bulged down ahead of him, and he had to lie on his back and force
himself past the obstruction an inch at a time, pulling the lantern behind. The
unyielding stone pressed against his chest like a giant hand trying to crush the
breath out of him. He breathed out, emptying his lungs, and slowly squeezed
past.
In the end, he found the child by bumping into her. He'd just got past the
obstruction when his head hit something soft and yielding. His first thought was
that he'd run into some kind of animal down in the dark with him, and his
imagination conjured up all kinds of unpleasantness before he got it back under
control. He squirmed over onto his stomach, wishing briefly that he'd brought
his axe, and then stopped as he saw her, lying still and silent on the tunnel
floor. She looked to be about five or six years old, covered in dirt and blood,
but still breathing strongly. Hawk spoke to her, but she didn't respond, even
when he tapped her sharply on the shoulder. He pulled himself along beside her,
and saw for the first time that one of her legs was pinned between two great
slabs of stone, holding her firmly just below the ankle.
Hawk put his lantern down and pushed cautiously at the slabs, but they wouldn't
budge. He took hold of the girl's shoulders and pulled until his arms ached, but
she didn't budge either. The stones weren't going to give her up that easily.
Hawk let go of her, and tried to think. The air was full of dust, and he coughed
hard to try and clear it from his throat. The side of his face grew
uncomfortably warm from having the lantern so close, and he moved it a bit
further away. Shadows leapt alarmingly in the cramped tunnel and then were still
again. He scowled, and worried his lower lip between his teeth. He had to get
the child out of there. The tunnel could collapse at any time, bringing tons of
stone and timber crashing down on her. And him too, for that matter. But there
was no way he could persuade the stone slabs to give up their hold on her foot.
He had no tools to work with, and even if he had, there wasn't enough room to
apply any leverage. No, there was only one way to get the child out. Tears stung
his eyes as the horror of it clenched at his gut, but he knew he had to do it.
He didn't have any choice in the matter.
He squirmed and wriggled as best he could in the confined space, and finally
managed to draw the knife from his boot and slide his leather belt out of his
trousers. There was a good edge on the blade. It would do the job. He took a
close look at the stone slabs where they held the child's foot, checking if
there was room enough to work, but he already knew the answer. There was room.
He was just putting it off. He looped his belt around the girl's leg, close up
against the stone, and pulled it tight, until flesh bulged thickly up on either
side of it. Hawk hefted the knife, and then brushed the little girl's hair
gently with his free hand.
'Don't wake up, lass. I'll be as quick as I can.'
He placed the edge of the knife against her leg, as close to the stones as he
could get it, and began sawing.
There was a lot more blood than he'd expected, and he had to tighten the belt
twice more before he could stem most of the flow. When he was finished, he tore
off one of his sleeves and wrapped it tightly round the stump. His arms and face
were splashed with blood, and he was breathing in great gulps, as though he'd
just run a race. He turned over on his back again, grabbed his lantern, and
began inching his way back down the tunnel, dragging the unconscious girl along
behind him. He didn't know how long he'd spent in the narrow tunnel, but it felt
like forever.
The tunnel roof soon rose enough to let him get to his hands and knees again,
and he crawled along through the darkness, hugging the child to his chest. He
suddenly found himself at the base of the main shaft, and stopped for a moment
