Alan Garner Classic Collection. Alan Garner

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       CHAPTER 14

       THE EARLDELVING

      The water was so cold that it took their breath away. Even Durathror, the hardened warrior, could not stifle the cry that broke from his lips at the first shock.

      They waded along the tunnel for a short distance before having to swim, and they had not gone much farther when Fenodyree stopped and told the others to wait while he went ahead. He drew a deep breath, there was a flurry and a splash, and he did not answer when Colin spoke.

      “Where has he gone?” asked Susan.

      “The roof and water meet where he left us,” said Durathror.

      Two minutes passed before Fenodyree broke the surface again, and it was some time after that before he could speak.

      “It is no distance,” he said when at length his breathing was under control, “and the air is fresh, but the roof is low for many yards, so we must swim on our backs.”

      Another swirl, and he was gone.

      “I’ll wait about a minute,” said Susan. She was more frightened than she cared to admit, but she hoped Colin and Durathror would think that her teeth were chattering with the cold alone.

      “Right: here goes.”

      “She has great courage,” said Durathror. “She hides her fear better than any of us.”

      “Are you scared, too?” said Colin.

      “Mortally. I will pit my wits and sword against all odds, and take joy in it. But that is not courage. Courage is fear mastered, and in battle I am not afraid. Here, though, the enemy has no guile to be countered, no substance to be cast down. Victory or defeat mean nothing to it. Whether we win or lose affects us alone. It challenges us by its presence, and the real conflict is fought within ourselves. And so I am afraid, and I know not courage.”

      “Oh,” said Colin. He felt less isolated now, less shut in with his fears. “Well, I’d better be on my way.”

      “Good luck to you,” said Durathror.

      Colin held his dive as long as possible, but the icy water constricted his lungs, and he soon was in need of air. He rose to what he implored would be the surface, but his hands and the back of his head scraped against the roof. Flustered, he kicked himself into a shallow dive, his stomach tightening, and his head seemed about to burst. This time. No! Again he struck the roof. What was wrong? Why was there no air? Fenodyree had said … ah! He remembered! Swim on your back: the roof is low. That’s it! Colin turned frantically on to his back: the knapsack pulled at his shoulders and began to tilt him upside-down. He threshed the water and managed to right himself. And then his lips broke surface. The air rushed out of his lungs, and Colin promptly sank, swallowing a lot of water. He kicked off so violently from the tunnel floor that he nearly stunned himself on the roof, but it quelled the panic, and he lay on his back, breathing air and water by turns.

      The roof was certainly low. In order to keep his lips above water he had to squash his nose against the rough stone of the ceiling, which made progress as painful as it was difficult.

      After twenty yards, Colin was relieved to find that the distance between surface and roof was increasing, and, before long, he was able to turn on to his face and swim more naturally. But where were the others? He trod water.

      “Hallo! Ahoy! Sue!”

      “Here!”

      It was Susan’s voice, and not far ahead, either. Almost at once the water grew shallow, and then he was knee-deep in mud, and Fenodyree’s arm was about him.

      “Oh, let me sit down!”

      Durathror joined them presently, and he was in great distress.

      “Squabnose,” he gasped, “I have been near death many times, but never has he stretched out his hand so close, or looked more terrible!”

      Colin unwrapped the lamp to discover how it had withstood the rough passage. It was none the worse, and by its light the children saw that they were lying on a bank of red mud, soft and very sticky. Ahead of them was a tunnel, but it was far different from any in West Mine. The roof ran square to the walls, and nowhere was more than a yard high. The colours were striking, for the walls were of a deep-red shale, and the roof was a bed of emerald copper ore.

      The going was difficult enough without the mud. It was not so bad for the dwarfs, but Colin and Susan developed a severe ache in neck and back very quickly. The tunnels never ran straight, and they would branch five times in as many yards. Caves were few, and seldom bigger than an average room. Water was everywhere; and what few shafts barred the way were flooded, and therefore easily crossed.

      After half a mile the relatively open passages were left behind, and now even the dwarfs were forced to crawl all the time. Roof falls became frequent, too, and negotiating them was an arduous business. The children were continually surprised by the way in which it was possible to force their bodies through holes and cracks that looked as though they would have been a squeeze for a kitten, but they found that, no matter how impracticable a gap appeared, if a head and one arm could be pushed through together, then the rest of the body would, eventually, follow.

      Now and again they would come upon a stretch of rock over which the water had washed a delicate curtain. This was to be found where a vein of ore lay just above the roof: the water, trickling through the copper, over the years had spread a film of colour down the wall, ranging from the palest turquoise to the deepest sea-green.

      The tunnels grew more constricted and involved. Susan particularly disliked having to worm herself round two corners at once. She thought of the picture of Alice in the White Rabbit’s СКАЧАТЬ