Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 96
enter no guilds, influenced no inspectors with his painstakingly
written political letters. Business ventures begun with pride
and faith in his fellow man had ended in betrayal by his
customers and friends. One day he had found himself
wandering penniless near the field of mounds. He was damned
if he would beg. And his ancestors' eyes followed him as he
walked among them. He decided to shut their eyes once and
for all, and had started digging.
And now he was wealthy. Choltas, too, was from a
fallen house, though he was too young to be bitter. Enneas had
taken it upon himself to spare the youth the detours that had
brought him to this point. Even now Choltas wasn't sure he
wanted to live this way, but Enneas kept at him. Tonight was
an important test for the boy.
The wall was full of niches. They were not shallow and
broad, as in most catacombs, but were deep holes into which a
body could be inserted feet-first. The builders of this place had
planned it to be used for many centuries, but their nation had
been overrun sometime in the dim past. The city this tomb had
served no longer existed, so it was seldom visited. The
general's army had been camped nearby, otherwise he would
have been buried elsewhere. Good luck for the robbers, for
although the heavy stone that covered the main entrance could
not be moved by less than thirty men, there was another way in
which Enneas knew about. It had been easy to convince Corres
to come here--nearly impossible to convince Choltas.
"I don't like this," said Choltas. His round face bobbed
palely in the lantern-light. He stared in frank terror at the
bricked up niches Corres was passing his hands over.
"Quiet," said Corres. "Look for new mortar."
"The sooner we find him the quicker we can be out of
here," Enneas sensibly reminded the boy. He joined Corres at