of Rucks and Hloks and Ghuls on Helsteeds also to come between the Dwarves and their sanctuary and prevent their escape. And scimitar and tulwar and cudgel met axe and hammer and flail in a great clang of steel, howls and shouts and war cries bellowing forth.
With the roaring fires raging behind, those in the fore of the Horde could hear and see the fighting at the wains and with foe before them and foe behind many milled about in disarray, even as Ghuls on Helsteeds blew horns and yawled orders and Hloks flailed about with whips. Confused elements of the Horde turned and struggled toward the rear, while others behind attempted to reach the fore.
And then the Baeron on heavy horses slammed into the line, their maces and hammers and morning stars smashing and shattering, while Dylvana loosed arrows in among the foe, black-shafted arrows flying in return, shrieks and screams and roars and the clangor of metal filling the air.
With Loden in the lead and Brandt right after and belling the bugle, the Daelsmen thundered down the line to circle 'round and come to the aid of the Dwarves, to help them break past the Trolls to reach the mineholt side postern.
And even as they were smashed down, Dwarves hurled clay pots at Ogrus, the vessels to shatter on three of the stonelike hides and spew yellowish liquid out. Now a Dwarf with a firecoke vessel hurled his clay pot - Yaaaahhh…! -and that monster caught fire, and he whirled about like a living torch and shrieked in agony.
But there were no more fire-coke vessels, and so the other two Ogrus who had been drenched with the yellowish liquid were yet roaring and crunching their great war bars into the warriors of the Dwarven Troll-squads, and, along with the remaining three Ogrus and the Rucks and Hloks and Ghflls on Helsteeds, they extracted a dreadful toll on the desperate Chakka.
His arrows ineffective against the Trolls, Tipperton was driven aside, and he fled toward a burning wagon. Upon reaching his goal, he snatched out one of his red-fletched arrows-a signal arrow, a Rynna arrow-and set it to string and jabbed the head into the flames.
Fsss- the scarlet collar caught fire, and he turned and loosed-ssss…-a long crimson streak to flash through the air and fade behind as the arrow flew -to strike the foe -a Troll Ph-phoom! flames to explode on the monster.
And atop the hill at the hospital wain, as the burning arrow scored a crimson line through the gloom, Beau cried out, 'Oh Lor', that was Tipperton's arrow. He shouldn't be there. It's all gone wrong!' and he leapt from the wain and hurled himself onto the back of his pony and spurred downslope, Melor calling out, 'Wait, Beau!' but the buc-can was down and away.
Tipperton jerked a second red-feathered arrow from the quiver at his hip, and as he lit it he heard -a shriek of rage -a shout: ' 'Ware, Tipperton!' -and the thunder of hooves, and bearing down on him came a Ghul, Helsteed in full gallop, cruel barbed spear aimed at the buccan's breast. Yet the buccan drew his bow to the full and loosed again, a second crimson streak to fly through the shaded air and strike Phoom!
– the other soaked Ogru -yet the Ghul came on and -Tipperton dropped to the stony ground and rolled under the burning wagon and out the far side -as Bekki, howling, hurtled down the slope and leaped through the air to crash into the Ghul -while Tipperton, scrambling, ran onward, his wee form lost down among the enemy -Bekki and the corpse-foe to smash down into the bed of the furiously burning wain As Beau galloped down the hill and toward the distant melee, a second crimson streak flashed through the air. 'Hang on, Tip!' he shouted, fumbling at his waist to open the pouch and extract his sling while racing downslope. And as he sped down, a lone rider thundered up the hill toward him, running the opposite way. As they hammered past one another, Beau saw the white hair and white beard of Counsellor Tain as that man fled from the field of combat, his eyes wide with fright.
And onward raced Beau, down toward the mighty struggle, his sling now in hand as he fumbled in his pouch for a bullet.
And he saw combat directly before him, an Elf 'gainst a Ghul, barbed spear 'gainst flashing blade, though a bow-bearing Ruck ran nigh. Down galloped Beau as the Elf closed on the Helsteed rider ere he could bring his spear to bear. Firelight flashed from the sword as it swung forward to take off the corpse-foe's head, yet ere it clove, a black-shafted arrow slammed into the Elf, and just as Beau hammered past she crashed to the ground -It was Phais, pierced through.
As three of the Ogrus burned shrieking, two of their kindred scrambled up the slopes of the mountain and away, the monsters howling in fear of red-streaking arrows which caused Ogrus to burst into flame. The sole remaining Troll yet battled Chakka, and Grg closed in to aid him, just as shouting Prince Loden and the yawling Daelsmen rounded the flank of the Horde and thundered in among the foe, swords reaving and lances piercing, to be met by blade in kind.
And at the fore of the Horde, the Baeron had bludgeoned in among the Spawn and now were completely surrounded, while Dylvana strove to break through the entrapping ring.
Tipperton ducked and dodged down among the swarming enemy, and darted this way and that, his bow, though strung with an arrow, now useless against foe too close at hand. And a Helsteed slammed by in the shouting struggle and bashed the buccan to the ground. His arrow lost, on hands and knees Tip scuttled among trampling feet and thrashing legs to be kicked up against a canvas wall.
Under the edge he scrambled to come up inside a tent.
And therein stood a man -who slowly turned toward him -and in dim lanternlight gazed vacantly at the Warrow.
Tip snatched at an arrow as he looked into the face of a man whose eyes were empty and whose drooling mouth hung agape.
It was the surrogate and he smelled of feces, and urine stained his breeks.
Nocking the arrow, Tip drew the shaft to the full and aimed at the man's breast.
Outside, battle cries and screams and shouts and shrieks of the dying and the wounded filled the air, horns blowing, steel clanging against steel, sharp edges cleaving into muscle and sinew, blunt iron shattering bones.
Yet inside, the man just stood there, uncomprehending, spittle running down his chin as he stared vacantly at a Warrow with a full-drawn bow. And then the man grinned an idiot's grin down at the wee buccan, his gaping mouth smiling wide, grunting, 'Uhn, uhn, uhn.'
Sighing, Tip relaxed the draw -and in that moment the tent flap slapped aside as a dark figure hurtled in and crashed a hammer down and into the man's head, the iron smashing through the skull as if it were nought but a ripe melon, blood and brain splashing wide as Tipperton-'Waugh!'-leaped backward and drew his bow against 'Bekki!' shouted the Warrow, seeing who it was as the dead man crumpled.
Bekki stood above the corpse, the Dwarf's beard and hair singed, his armor soot-covered, his clothing scorched.
Shrieking in rage, Beau loosed at the bow-bearing Ruck, the sling bullet to slam into the Spawn's throat, the Ruck to drop the bow and clutch at his crushed neck, unable to breathe, and he fell to the ground, his feet drumming in death.
But now the Ghul turned on the buccan, and Beau loaded again and let fly, the missile to crash into the GhuTs skull, dark matter to splash outward. Yet the Ghul merely grinned and bore down on the Warrow.
Jerking his pony aside as the Ghul thundered past, Beau fumbled for another bullet, while the Ghul wrenched his Helsteed about, the beast squealing in pain.
Beau loosed another missile, and it struck the foe in the shoulder, bones to crack. Yet still the Ghul grinned and bore down. But in that moment a rider flashed by-Loric!-and his blade sheared through the Ghul's neck, the creature's head flying wide to bounce on the ground as the Helsteed galloped past Beau and away, the headless corpse yet astride.
'Loric, it's Phais!' cried Beau, and he sprang from his pony and jerked free his medical kit Oh lor', oh lor', don't let her be dead.
– and ran to the side of the downed Dara.
Bekki looked up. 'Tipperton! I thought you slain.'
'We will be if we don't get out of here,' cried Tipperton.
Bekki nodded and looked at the corpse, its head smashed into an unrecognizable shape. 'I came to kill Modru's eyes and ears and voice, and that done, we can leave.'
