Militia — and that's most of you, even if you don't show up regularly for drill — are aware, our arsenal of weapons is both small and eclectic, consisting as it does of a mixture of hunting, farming, and carpentry implements. This has proven adequate in the past when dealing with occasional raiding critters and wandering bandit mobs.
'If we are to defend ourselves against the mountain dwarves, however — as we inevitably must, now that their nefarious scheme has been uncovered — we will need quality. weapons, of a uniform nature, which can be used in precise formations. Fortunately, a significant stock of such weapons — approximately forty spears, twenty-five swords, and thirty-five axes, or approximately one hundred weap ons in all — has just fallen into our hands. Unfortunately, our militia contains just over three-hundred-fifty combat ants, leaving us with a shortfall of approximately, uhhmmm, two-hundred-fifty weapons. Some of this can be made up from existing inventory, but a large number of weapons is still needed, desperately.'
Broadblade paused for a moment, letting his math settle on the crowd for effect. Then, with a stern face, he contin ued.
'Two more wagons should arrive tomorrow, according to the usual schedule. We shall seize these wagons and appro priate their contents. Assuming they, too, contain fifty weapons apiece, that brings our total to two- hundred. It would, however, be imprudent to expect any more ship ments after that, as the Theiwar will quickly realize that something is happening to their wagons.'
'So where do we get another one-hundred-fifty weap ons?' shouted someone in the crowd.
'That is the significant question,' admitted Broadblade.
'The plows and such in these wagons will provide the raw material for a few more, but not nearly enough.'
'We can't fight without enough weapons,' shouted some one else.
Basalt crowded his way up to the barrel. 'Listen, I've got an idea,' he yelled as he climbed to the top of the barrel with Broadblade.
The militia master quieted the crowd. 'Everyone, this is the young fellow who tipped us off to the whole thing.
What's your idea, Fireforge?'
'Two wagons left for New Sea last night. We know that the trip takes two days; they travel all night and then lay up somewhere during the daylight,' Basalt explained. 'If we start right now, with a fast wagon, we should be able to catch them before dark.'
'Use my brewery wagon,' offered Hildy. 'It's smaller and faster than their big carts, and it's empty right now, waiting for another load.'
Broadblade boomed out over the crowd, 'We need volun teers to go with Basalt and Hildy to overtake the two wag ons. You can draw weapons from the new stock and start immediately. The rest of you, assemble in one hour in the square, ready to start fortifying the town in accordance with the plans Mayor Holden and I will prepare.
'Let's get to work!'
Chapter 18
'Go for big march!'
'Outside time!'
A chorus of shrieks and whoops erupted as the Aghar danced around Flint and Perian, delighted by the news of their impending campaign.
'It's not a picnic!' Flint bellowed. 'We're going to war! To fight the mountain dwarves!'
The celebration continued, unaffected by his words of caution.
'Let them enjoy the idea now,' counselled Perian, patting
Flint on the shoulder. 'They'll find out soon enough what we mean.'
'I suppose you're right,' agreed the hill dwarf. He cast an other look at the dancing, scampering Aghar. He could not help but wonder how many of them now cavorted in Mud hole for the last time.
'Come on, Grayhoof, pull!' Hildy barked at the heavy draft horse, her blond braids flying behind her. The steed leaned forward into his traces, straining every massive mus cle to pull the wagon up the pass.
Basalt pushed back his red locks and leaned forward on the buckboard beside Hildy, as if he could help the strug gling creature with his own forward momentum. Behind them, five more hill dwarves — all young, all armed to the teeth — lay low within the wagon's boxy cargo bed.
'Up, boy! Faster!' The brewer's daughter coaxed and ca joled the grizzled gelding, and the old horse responded by putting every sinew of his massive body into the task. Basalt noticed that Hildy didn't use a whip, yet she seemed able to bring every bit of desperate energy out of her faithful steed.
Foam flecked Grayhoof's mouth, and the old horse's flanks heaved with the effort of its labors.
They were six hours east of Hillhome on the mountainous Passroad. The hill dwarves were headed toward Newsea to ambush the derro wagons that had left Hillhome the night before. None of them knew how far beyond the pass they would find the derro waystation. Soon they would be out of the mountains and into the plains just west of Newsea, and that would make for quicker travel. Sooner or later the light wooden beerwagon, with its single hitch, would catch up to the iron-bound freight wagons of the derro, even with their four-horse teams.
The hill dwarves looked anxiously at the sun as it sank into the western sky. They had to reach the derro camp be tween Hillhome and Newsea by sunset, or else their quarry would start for the sea. A hundred more weapons that could be used to defend Hillhome would then be lost.
'How much farther do you figure it is?' asked Turq
Hearthstone, popping his head up from the box behind Ba salt and Hildy. A heavily muscled lad, he propped his chin up on the edge of the wagon.
'I don't know,' Basalt admitted. 'But it's got to be close enough that the Theiwar can get there in one night's travel from Hillhome. We know from Mayor Holden that they get off the road again by daylight.'
Another hill dwarf, Horld, also looked up out of the wagon. 'How many of the white-bellied scum do you think we'll find there?'
Basalt thought for a moment. 'Three per wagon, two wagons coming and two going… My best guess is there'll
'be about twelve of them.'
Horld counted for a moment. 'Against seven of us,' he calculated.
'We'll have the element of surprise on our side,' Basalt en couraged, adding a silent 'I hope.' Horld settled back, ap parently satisfied with the answer.
Basalt saw that the others were looking to him for leader ship now. Horld had always been one of the more promi nent of the younger generation in Hillhome. In some ways he'd been sort of a bully, and Basalt usually tried to avoid him. Now here he was, asking Basalt's opinions.
'Couldn't you use that ring to go there, find out for sure?' asked Turq, gesturing to the intertwined steel bands on Ba salt's finger.
Basalt shook his head. 'Magic is strange, I guess. I can only use the ring to go places that I've seen and can picture in my mind. I don't know where the derro stop is; they might take shelter anywhere in a cave or the forest.' He shrugged helplessly.
The heavily breathing Grayhoof lumbered through the saddle between two looming hills that marked the summit of the Passroad; it would be downhill from here to the sea.
'Giddap, now, boy! Run for it!' Hildy cried.
Sensing the lightening of his burden, the horse broke into an easy trot. The wagon rumbled and jounced behind, and in places Hildy had to rein Grayhoof in a bit just to keep the wagon from hurrying the horse. Traces squealed in protest, wheels and timbers creaked, and the noise of their descent precluded anything less than
