For once the infamously curious gully dwarves agreed with his warning, and the party continued its surreptitious climb.
By now the half-breed could see that this pile of rubble ended dozens of feet below the overhanging terminus of the Life-Tree. From the top they were high enough to see that the whole lower reach of Hybardin was nothing more than a wasteland. Everywhere the ruins were crowded with dark dwarves and Chaos shadows. In one place Tarn saw a great column of enemy dwarves moving into the wide tunnel the fire dragon had excavated on the bottom of the Life-Tree. He caught a glimpse of a bronze helm at the head of the file of black armor.
Looking around, Tarn saw that more of the dark dwarf companies were spreading out along the waterline. They were poking and probing through the rubble, undoubtedly searching for survivors or treasure. Once more he turned his attention above and saw a gaping black hole in the underside of smooth rock, perhaps thirty feet overhead. Probably that was the remains of some transport shaft to Level Three, but there was simply no way to reach it-even from the highest pinnacle of rock on their little summit.
'Look! Now they comin' up our hill!' snorted a gully dwarf indignantly.
Tarn saw that the Daergar had spotted them and at least a hundred of the dark dwarves were beginning to converge at the base of the mound. The Daergar took their time, spreading out to form a ring around the conical hill. Then they began a slow and methodical climb toward the dwarves trapped at the summit.
'What we do now?' wondered Regal, with what Tarn thought was an impressive lack of panic in his voice.
'We can start by rolling rocks down on them,' the half-breed said, 'while I try to think of something a little more long-term.'
The Aghar pitched into this new game with enthusiasm, and soon great chunks of jagged stone were bouncing, rolling, and ricocheting down the steep slope. Several of these hit individual Daergar, and the overall effect was a dramatic slow down of the climbers. But Tarn could see that their position would become hopeless within a few minutes.
'Gotta big one!' cried Regal, as several of his mates helped him to tumble a great boulder down the slope. While the Aghar shrieked and jeered, cursing dark dwarves scrambled to the sides to get out of the way of the deadly missile. A few of them were too slow, but that only seemed to solidify the grim purpose of the survivors as they once again resumed their implacable ascent.
'Psst! Tarn! Up here!'
At first the half-breed attributed the words to his fevered imagination, for it sounded exactly like the voice of his Belicia Felixia.
'Tarn!'
When she called again, he forced himself to look.
Now he discerned movement in the base of the tunnel leading upward into Hybardin. He saw several dwarves squirreled away in the far corners, and dimly realized that they were clinging to the rungs of a ladder mounted directly into a stone. With a flash of hope he saw that they were lowering ropes, three or four lines that dropped among the Aghar atop the hill.
And finally he recognized her, eyes shining as she looked at him from the dimness of the shadowy tunnel.
Belicia Felixia Slateshoulders was not only alive, she was hovering overhead like a messenger from Reorx, a vision of hope, promise, and rescue.
Chapter Twenty-four
An Army Unleashed
'Get into that tunnel, you gully dwarf-spawned bastards!' shouted Darkend, waving his mace over his head and menacing the file of Daergar warriors. Most were already advancing into the confined assault route, but their thane still cursed and lashed, uncaring of complaints as his spiked weapon gouged into the back of his warriors.
Still fuming, he whirled upon his sister who had just emerged with him from the tunnel that led up to Hybardin's Level Four. All around him was a ruin of molten rock, rubble-strewn streets, and pulverized landscape. A whole sector of valuable smithies had been smashed into unrecognizable garbage and soot beneath the power of fiery wing and crushing talon.
'Why didn't he wait here? Isn't that what you told him to do?' the thane demanded.
'Yes, that is what I told him!' insisted the female dark dwarf. 'But he clearly had ideas of his own!'
Even as she spoke, Darkend noticed that his sister looked fretful. The strain of the long climb and the frustration at finding events reaching beyond their control had tightened the nerves of both Bellowsmokes. For several moments the brother and sister glared at each other. Darkend's gaze shifted, and as he fixed his stare at the bronze helm that gave Garimeth the ability to understand beings even as strange as the daemon warrior, he finally understood.
He was tempted to swing his mace against Garimeth right now, but some deep vestige of self control prevented him from taking the dire action. And he still could not be sure. Besides, Garimeth still had uses-or she would, if they could ever catch up to the rampaging daemon warrior.
Herein was the crux of his problem. Zarak Thuul had apparently taken to the thane's orders with passion, using his great serpent to bore a wide hole through the bedrock of the Life-Tree. Already thousands of Daergar and Theiwar had advanced along that route. But these attacking dwarves had found the city already reduced to waste. There were no conquered Hylar to show him honor. All of them were either dead or had fled into the highest levels of the city Even the vast silver smithies with their great vaults of precious metal had been burned so thoroughly that the stockpiles of the argent metal had melted like water and vanished into the porous rock. This had been one of the great treasures of Hybardin, and Darkend had planned to turn the minting process to his own uses. But now, like so much of this accursed city, it was nothing but ugly wreckage.
And, from the look of things, there was still no sign that the Chaos lord was planning to slow down his onslaught or that he had any intentions of cooperating with the dark dwarf assault. Instead, the daemon warrior continued to take matters into his own hands, forging upward and onward on his own. Though advancing companies of dark dwarves hastened in his wake, the stocky, short-legged warriors were climbing much more slowly than the fiery harbinger of Chaos. Now Darkend's greatest fear was that he would conquer this city of wonders, only to find that the entire place had been destroyed beyond salvage by the depredations of his unpredictable, uncontrollable ally.
Worst of all, Darkend could think of no way to counter the daemon warrior's power or his implacable will. He dared not take his frustrations out on Garimeth-at least not now, for he saw that his sister might be his only chance to somehow still rein in that capricious power.
'My lord thane! My lord!' cried a Daergar warrior in great excitement.
'What is it, man?'
'A royal armory, lord! And it's still intact!' The dwarf pointed along the street. 'We've set a guard on it, but it hasn't been burned yet! And it looks like the Hylar cleared out too quickly to take any of their treasure.'
'This is more like it,' growled the thane, allowing himself to feel the first hint of conqueror's pleasure. Darkend followed the other dwarf down a wide avenue toward a vast structure with a colonnaded portico and doors of reinforced steel.
'There's a trove of coin in here!' shouted a captain of heavy infantry, clapping his fist in salute as Darkend strode up the steps. The thane stalked down a wide, marbled hall, past more saluting Daergar, all of whom grinned with anticipation.
'In here, my lord-feast your eyes!' declared the messenger, standing aside to allow his thane to proceed.
The great vault was encased in thick plates of solid steel, but the doors had been forced open; one of the great slabs lay on the floor while the other tilted awkwardly on its single remaining hinge. As Darkend reached the end of the hall and saw the great room opening beyond, he knew that here at last was one prize worthy of his
