The kender hopped down from the cabin and sauntered forward, then yelped as Kerrick lunged, seized him by both shoulders, and shook.
“Tell me! Who are you?
“What, because a simple-minded ogre didn’t find me? Have you seen those pig-eyes they have?” chuckled the kender. “It’s like my Grandmother Annatree used to say, ‘You can’t see anything, unless you look.’ ”
“Not just the ogres!” spat Kerrick, with another, none-too-gentle, shake. “You couldn’t have survived the winter out here! You couldn’t sleep for five days on a crowded boat. I looked for you. You weren’t on board!”
“Speaking of looking, who is that up there? I think he’s in some kind of trouble.”
Snarling in exasperation, Kerrick squinted, following Coraltop’s pointing finger. A figure had emerged from a narrow slit in the snowbank and was poised on a steep slope, a hundred feet above the waters of the cove.
“It’s a man,” Kerrick said, as the lone figure started to move sideways along the steep slope, kicking footholds into the wet snow.
Up on the hillside, something else moved, a hulking shape. The drama focused the elf’s attention once more on the present. A fist flailed out from the hole in the snowbank, and a long spear probed outward, though the escaping man remained just out of reach.
Kerrick felt a rush of sympathy for that desperate human. The fellow was undoubtedly a Highlander, but the appearance of the ogres had triggered a deep feeling of kinship with the humans-especially compared to the ogres and thanoi.
“I don’t think the ogre can get out through that hole,” Kerrick said. He peered at the shore, where more ogres thronged the cave mouth. The lone man was some distance away from them, but it was only a matter of time before the brutes fanned out in pursuit.
Kerrick dipped his oar in the water and pushed his sailboat across the placid, snow-bound cove.
“And stay here, dammit!” added the elf, glaring at the kender who grinned and stroked with enthusiastic vigor.
“Down here!” Kerrick shouted, turning his attention to the hillside as they drew nearer to the snowy ground.
The ogres outside the cave had finally noticed the fugitive. Some lumbered along the shore, toward the place where
“Slide down to the water. We’ll pick you up!” called the elven sailor.
The man looked down and cursed as ogres came closer, pushing through deep snow. One brute struggled to squeeze out through the narrow slot where the man had escaped from the cave.
“Hurry!” cried the elf, eyeing the ogres as they made their way along the snowy shore.
With another curse, the man careened down the steep slope, cutting a trough through the slushy snow, sending pebble-sized ice spraying around him. Kerrick pushed off with the oar, moving the boat a little way from the shore. The man tumbled in ungainly somersaults. He struck the water with a loud splash and vanished into the black depths.
Probing with the oar, Kerrick touched a squirming form, holding the blade so that the man could grab on and be hauled to the surface. The Highlander sputtered and cursed. With loud grunts and more curses he heaved himself onto the deck.
The elf recognized Strongwind Whalebone. “I should push you right back in the water!” he snapped. “Isn’t that what you did to me?”
The Highlander king wrung out his braided beard, shook water from his hair and tunic. He did not look regal.
“It would be a reasonable act on your part in revenge for a foolish act on my part,” said the man. “Strike me down if you must.”
Kerrick glared. “How did you get out?” he asked after a moment.
“There was a spyhole. The lad, Little Mouse, found it. I used it to escape, after that shaman, Dinekki, and my priest worked a spell to collapse the cave. The ogres are stopped, at least for now.”
“What about the tribe and your men?”
“Your Arktos friends might reach safety,” Strongwind said. “Little Mouse also found a way up to Brackenrock inside the mountain. He took the Arktos and a band of my warriors up there. They’re attacking the citadel, right now.”
The elf glared at Strongwind for several moments before chuckling wryly. “Dinekki’s the only reason I’m alive. She gave me a spell of water breathing before you dropped me in that hole.”
“Yes, good for her,” said the man glumly. “Good for you. It was a noble thing, to come back and rescue me thus.”
“I didn’t know it was you,” Kerrick said bluntly. He was struck by another thought. “Coraltop,” he called, “come and meet a human king.”
“Who do you address?” asked Strongwind, looking toward the stern.
Kerrick craned his neck and looked for himself. The tiller where Coraltop Netfisher had been rowing hung slack. There was nobody there.
“Sire!” It was Urgas Thanoi, speaking urgently. “Do you see that smoke rising from beyond the ridge. That is coming from Brackenrock!”
The ogre king couldn’t see the lofty citadel from his position on the shore, but the plume of black smoke was clearly visible, rising across the pale blue sky.
“What of it?” demanded Grimwar Bane, who was still furious about the cave-in that had so decisively blocked his army from a vengeful bloodbath. Furthermore, his wife, bleeding from a knock on the head, had just stomped over to report that the elf had overcome her when she wasn’t looking, kidnapped Baldruk and escaped.
“That is the signal for trouble. They must be under attack!”
“How? From where?”
“Is it possible, oh wise lord, that the humans have discovered a passage from their cave to my citadel?”
“What is that?” growled Grimwar Bane. “A passage to your citadel? This is a fine time to mention it!”
“Begging Your Majesty’s pardon,” offered the thanoi, “but we’re swimmers, not cavers. We’ve never explored these caverns, but legend holds that they twist and curve, rising beneath the floors of our citadel.”
“Where’s Baldruk Dinmaker when I finally need him?” The king frowned angrily. “He knows about tunnels and caverns and the like! The little runt spent fifty years living underground in Thorbardin!”
“He’s dead, I think,” Stariz said dazedly, rubbing an ugly bump on her forehead. “The elf took him on the boat, and I saw them fighting. The dwarf keeled over and rolled into the water.”
“What good is that to me?” huffed the king. He squinted at the boat, drifting on the placid water with two men visible on deck. “Well, that elven rascal won’t get far until the ice melts outside the cove. We can worry about him later.” He looked at his queen, suddenly realizing that he wanted, even needed, her advice. “What do you think? Are the humans on top of the mountain now?”
“It’s a very good chance,” said Stariz slowly, regaining her composure. “That’s clearly a big cave, warmed by the same steam that heats the tusker citadel.” She nodded contemptuously to Urgas Thanoi “Even if the tuskers haven’t discovered such a route, it’s likely that one exists or could be forged.”
“Well, then, we’d better get up there while we still have a chance to recoup our victory,” snapped the king, actually enthused by the prospect of more action. “Come on, you louts!” he roared to his warriors, who were waiting around the outside of the cavern. “We’ve got a hard climb to make!”
He pointed to the road excavated into the side of the steep slope, beginning near the cave mouth. It curved along the mountainside, making its way higher and higher above the water in the cove until, on the far side of the valley, it vanished through a narrow notch, a pass flanked by a pair of brooding, cornice-draped cliffs. Beyond that notch rose the plume of smoke marking Brackenrock.
“Up! Let’s go, my brutes! With luck, we’ll have plenty of killing on the top!”
“More of the Highlanders are here,” Bruni said, pointing to a throng of warriors spilling into the courtyard of
