its orange eyes.
'You have won the day,' the kobold growled in a guttural voice as it circled Mika-oba wielding a broken shortsword, searching for an opening, 'but you will lose in the end…'
Mika-oba responded in a cool, doubting tone, 'It is you who will die, and we who will dance in your blood…'
But the kobold was smarter than Mika-oba thought, having survived more than a few battles and learned from them as well. He opened his muzzle as though to speak further. When Mika-oba hesitated, the kobold lashed out with his sword and slashed Mika-oba diagonally across the chest. Only his fast reflexes saved him from a fatal blow.
Mika struck out with his axe and the kobold ducked low, letting the heavy blade swish harmlessly overhead. He used the opportunity to cut at Mika's knees with his bit of broken sword. Mika felt the blade nick him and leaped back, wishing that Tam had not abandoned him to join in the frenzied killing of the kobolds in retreat.
Mika and the kobold drove back and forth on the rocky slopes, neither able to gain the advantage. Mika was tiring, his muscles stiffening and trembling with fatigue. He knew he had to kill the kobold before he grew too tired to lift the heavy axe.
Giving a loud shriek, he raised the axe above his head and swung it in short, tight circles, driving the kobold back. The kobold could only retreat and soon found itself plastered against a stony outcrop.
As Mika raised his axe for the final blow, the kobold's brutal face snarled up at him with unremitting hatred. Then suddenly, before he could bring the axe down on the kobold's horny head, something sped past him with a harsh exhalation of air and thunked into the kobold.
The kobold shrieked and clutched its chest. Black blood erupted through its scaly fingers as did the shaft of a spear. As it sank to its knees, the kobold's face contorted, and Mika realized with a shock that it was smiling!
'… Iuz… will…' gasped the kobold, struggling to form the words, but they did not come, and with a final shudder, it toppled onto its face and died.
'Iuz will do what? What about Iuz!' screamed Mika-oba as he grabbed the dead kobold and shook it violently. Enor materialized beside him and with some effort extracted his spear from the kobold's dead body. Then the chieftain noticed Mika's wild expression and grasped him firmly on the shoulders, intending to calm him.
'What are you doing?' Enor asked. 'The creature is obviously dead. It has gone to its ancestors, if there is a place for such as these after death.'
'Enor, it said something about Iuz right before it died,' said Mika.
No Wolf Nomad could help but be disconcerted over the mention of the evil demon, lord of the Middle Lands in whose name untold acts of horror had been committed, and whom even the Wolf Nomads, whose lands bordered his, had cause to fear. Iuz had been ominously quiescent for generations. There were rumors about his presence from time to time, and there were unfounded reports of his foul deeds, but nothing certain or reliable. Why would Iuz be aligned with lowly kobolds?
'Iuz,' Enor muttered uneasily, prodding the dead kobold with his toe. 'I hope you are mistaken, Mika, or that the creature was lying. Let us pray that it is so. The demon lord has not been heard from in years, and I would have it remain that way.'
Enor stood up beside the dead kobold and stared around him. The field was littered with dead and dying kobolds and a few injured wolves and nomads. Enor gazed off in the distance, where the main body of kobolds, perhaps forty or more, had gathered together for a last stand at the edge of the river. But it was a doomed affair, for the sun was rising, growing in strength and brilliance. Its bright rays shone down, blinding them to the flight of arrows and the final slash and cut of sword and axe. Soon, the last of them were dead, their black blood flowing into the rushing waters of the River Fler.
But Mika was seized with doubt and indecision. Had he heard the kobold leader correctly? So frightening was the thought of Iuz, drummed into his imagination from childhood and the lessons of his father, that he was more than willing to believe that his ears had tricked him, or that the kobold had lied. Enor was equally willing to forget the implications.
'Come, Mika, pay this one no more mind,' directed Enor, pulling him away from the dead kobold. 'We must tend to the living and eliminate those few of the enemy that may have survived.'
Mika rejoined his companions, and they combed the battlefield carefully, aided by the wolves and tigers, searching out those humans and kobolds that still lived. They found only one suffering human, a wagon driver, who soon perished of his wounds, although grateful to die in the presence of men and with the sound of prayers in his ears to guide his spirit to the afterworld.
Many kobolds had survived, although bearing horrendous wounds that would have killed a man. They taunted the Wolf Nomads with curses and animal cries and died with smiles on their muzzles as the Wolf Men plunged swords through their hearts.
Mika was troubled by a lingering doubt, and whenever possible, out of the hearing of other nomads, he tried to question all kobolds who came before his sword. He also searched their foul-smelling clothing for documents, but they were either without knowledge or without fear and gave up nothing except their worthless lives.
'Leave them here as a warning to their foul brethren,' Enor directed his clansmen as the sun rose slowly in the cold sky. 'Perhaps it will give them reason to think before they attack another caravan. We have given the Guild our word of protection. Wolf Nomads do not make promises that they cannot keep.'
'They will remember the lesson we have taught them today,' Enor-oba said pompously, and Mika was saddened to see that the chief's son had come through the battle without even a scratch.
'To attack a caravan under the protection of the Wolf Nomads is to attack the Wolf Nomads themselves…' Enor-oba continued as the men began to drift away, disinterested in his somber pronouncements. Even Enor turned from his son and began directing the removal of the last few wagons across the river and into the safety of the Wolf Nomad territory.
'You men,' called Enor, pointing at the widely scattered groups of nomads. 'Check the area. I want to be certain that every last kobold is dead before we leave.'
Mika was tired. His arms ached and his back was stiff and caked with sweat. All he wanted was to sit down and rest. He didn't want to look for kobolds. He had seen more than enough kobolds to last him for a long time.
But he knew from long experience that it was no use arguing with Enor. 'I'll check the arroyos,' he cried, and received a brief wave of acknowledgement from Enor, whose attention was focused on the work with the wagons.
The rest of the men were searching the area between the arroyos and the river. No one was near him. Satisfied that he had the area to himself, Mika slipped over the edge of an arroyo and wandered along its length, searching wearily for a concealed spot in which to sit and rest.
Such a spot soon presented itself, a small cut in the bank near the head of an arroyo where he was hidden from casual observation. He sank down on a large boulder, rested his back against the steep slope and closed his eyes with a hearty sigh.
TamTur circled in place several times, then sank to the ground, curled himself into a tight ball, his silvery brush covering his nose, and fell into a deep sleep.
Mika relaxed in the warm sunlight, allowing the tension to flow out of his stiff muscles, and congratulated himself on surviving the battle, despite the shove from… Enor-oba, no doubt.
His thoughts drifted, considering the wagon train. It had appeared quite ordinary, no different from any other caravan, and certainly not the repository of a beautiful princess and great wealth. Ah, the princess! He had almost forgotten about her. Had the messenger lied? Was it all an elaborate hoax to ensure the rescue of his comrades? Mika thought not, but he would have to get a closer look at the surviving wagons… after a brief, well-deserved snooze.
Mika had been seated for only a short time, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face and chest, when he felt a strange tingling cover his body. He opened his eyes abruptly.
A small kobold stood directly in front of him, blocking the rays of the sun. Mika cursed his own stupidity for placing himself in such a tightly wedged position where he could not easily wield either axe or sword.
They stared at each other for a long moment, each studying the other. The kobold wore a badly singed orange tunic and its bony crest sagged crookedly above its eyes as though it had been broken by a direct blow. Then, even as Mika considered rushing the creature, overwhelming it by sheer bulk, a second figure appeared in the
