In the great chamber of the great cistern beneath Acre, Richard of Warwick - the Golden Knight - stood with his back firmly pressed against one of the hundreds of red-brick columns that rose up out the darkness around him. Beside him, crouched low, was Emrys Wledig - a scholar and his guide into the city of Acre. The cold water of the cistern lapped against their thighs, chilling their flesh. But, what was more chilling, was the sounds that came out of the darkness. From all around them came the high-pitched shrieks and twitters of the rats.

These were no ordinary rats, however. The first of them had been a monstrous thing, nearly as tall at the shoulder as a greyhound but more powerful. It had hesitated for a moment, before charging towards the pair of adventurers, foaming at the mouth and screeching horribly. Its impulsive nature had been its undoing. Richard had slashed at it with his sword, carving long streaks of blood from its foul flesh,. before despatching it with a single blow to one of its malevolent, red eyes. However, the sorcery-spawned mutant had not died quietly. With its final breath, it had emitted a piercing cry which had brought to life the recesses of the artificial cavern: a myriad twin points of light reflecting back the dim glow of Emrys's firefly lantern.

What followed from this was a war of attrition. Although cautious, the horde of rodents was obviously emboldened by its sheer weight of numbers. The rats had swarmed towards the Golden Knight and Emrys, and the pair had been forced to retreat. Emrys had fallen back, desperately seeking some point which was drier than the others. Richard of Warwick had followed him, stumbling backwards and slashing his once-gleaming sword through the press of fur, flesh and bone. Each stroke accounted for a dozen of the smaller creatures, maybe two of their larger cousins, but it was not enough. The rats kept pressing forward. Now the two men found themselves pressed against the pillar, awaiting the inevitable.

"I did not think I would end my days in this manner," Emrys moaned. "I always hoped I would die in my own bed, surrounded by wailing family."

The Golden Knight glanced down at him. "We do not have to die here. Do you have some trick, some knowledge that will get us through this?"

Emrys nodded. "I do, but - ." He jabbed his blade at some shadow that dared enter the cocoon of greenish light that surrounded him and Richard. There was a shrill squeak of anger, and the bold rat retreated to join its fellows. "But, if it does not work, we are doomed."

"And if you do not use it," the Golden Knight kicked at a swimming shape, feeling its body give against his steel-reinforced boot, "then we are also doomed! So, whatever you can do - do it!"

"Very well." The scholar rose to his feet, the water streaming from his trews. Richard, surprised at the sudden motion, glanced backwards. He could see that there was an awful purpose about Emrys's face. Then the scholar uttered a single syllable which froze Richard's blood. Even the twittering from the darkness ceased, as if they were waiting to hear what else would be said. With a sweeping gesture, Emrys stretched out his arms, raising them towards the vaulted ceiling above. The dagger in his hand seemed to glow with a dull, red light, before he plunged it into his left hand and pulled the blade down through the flesh. A black liquid began to ooze from the wound and down his arm, but the scholar closed his fist, as if trying to hold onto his blood. Meantime, he muttered to himself in a rising cadence, the words growing louder but no less incomprehensible to Richard's ears. Finally, with a bellow, Emrys thrust his wounded left hand into the water of the cistern!

The water immediately began to bubble and boil around Emrys's hand, glowing blue with whatever energies the scholar had unleashed. Then the blue glow expanded, forming a ring that raced out from where the two men were standing and into the waters surrounding them. As the wave of luminescence passed through Richard he felt a sudden sickness that clawed at his soul, but passed ever so quickly. For a brief moment it was as if the cistern had been lit by a thunderbolt. Instinctively, the knight shielded his eyes and, when he opened them again, the cistern was once again lost to the subterranean blackness. Richard looked down to see what had happened to Emrys.

"Are you ... ?" the Golden Knight began. He caught sight of Emrys's face. The man looked drawn and ill.

Emrys waved a weak hand at Richard. "I am just weakened momentarily. I do not know how effective my little trick was, so you should escape - find the evil before it finds you."

"And you?"

The scholar chuckled. "I shall only be a burden to you. Go!"

Richard shook his head. "No. We go together or not at all." He reached down to the scholar and grabbed at his tunic, pulling him upright. Emrys tried to support his own weight, but ended up leaning against the Golden Knight.

"You are a fool, Richard of Warwick. A noble fool, but a fool all the same." However, Richard noted that the old man seemed only too grateful to not be abandoned. Together, they stumbled through the water, guided by Emrys's muttered directions and keeping a wary eye out for any sign of motion from the rodents. All that remained of the swarms were a few bodies floating on the surface of the water, which Richard pushed aside with his blade. He wanted to ask Emrys what he had done, but Richard thought that he would regret the answer.

"There!" Emrys pointed towards a staircase made of sandstone slabs that spiralled around one of the larger pillars and led to a brick platform about two men's height above the water. "That is our way out."

"Good," Richard muttered. "Then we will soon be out of this foul place." He mounted the steps, half-pushing half-pulling Emrys with him until the two men were on the platform. The dark arch of a doorway at the end of the landing promised an exit.

"A moment to rest," Emrys begged. "I am cold, and I need to catch my breath. Please?"

"Aye." Richard nodded. "Let me see what dangers still await us."

"Hopefully none."

The Golden Knight stepped forward and pulled on the ring that was mounted in the middle of the door. "At least this - !" There was a rustle of cloth, and then something hard slammed into Richard's gut. Surprised at the ferocity of this unexpected assault, the Golden Knight doubled over, exposing his neck and shoulders. Again, whatever it was hit him precisely at the base of his skull. An impossible fatigue settled on Richard, enveloping him like a suffocating, warm blanket, and he fell to the wet brick.

Again, there was a rustling of cloth. Richard heard Emrys cry out, "No!" and then he was silent. There was the sound of something falling into the water beneath. "You are lucky, al faris al dhahabiu," a feminine voice whispered in Richard's ear. "Wu Gu Xian wishes you alive. For now."