that point, you can let the drawbridge down all the way, and I guarantee they'll come after me for all they're worth.'
'How do you know they won't send a couple after you and leave the rest here to keep an eye on me?' demanded Ariakas, immediately distrustful of the dwarf's plan. 'How do I know you'll shout-what's to prevent you from disappearing into the dark and leav shy;ing me here with a tower full of ogres?'
'You have my word. I'll call out,' replied Ferros, stiffly. He scowled at Ariakas, apparently for the first time wondering if he should trust the human. 'And as for the former, I told you-I know ogres. There's no love lost between their folk and mine. If they suspect they're about to be humiliated by a dwarf, they'll do every shy;thing they can to stop him-me.'
Ariakas pretended to study the chain, the draw shy;bridge, and the winches, but all the time his mind was racing through the convolutions of the plan. He didn't like it. Once the dwarf was dangling within reach of the far precipice, Ariakas lost control of events, and he was forced to place his trust in this stranger. True, the dwarves he'd known had generally been a forthright lot. But that was no guarantee as to the veracity of this particular individual. And Ariakas hated a plan that depended upon someone else.
'Look-you can always lower the drawbridge right away. I've got a helluva lot more to lose than you do,' stated Ferros bluntly. 'We have to do something, and quick! You got a better idea?' he concluded, with termi shy;nal logic.
Ariakas admitted that he didn't. At the same time, the burning memory of the lady in the upper chamber stirred within him, and he yearned to get back to her. For the moment, he just wanted to see, to touch her- whether or not they escaped almost paled into a sec shy;ondary consideration.
'All right,' he agreed tersely. 'Let's give it a try.'
'That's more like it,' Ferros snapped. 'After all, I'm the one sticking my head into a noose!'
'I'm not going to draw it tight,' Ariakas promised, half joking. In truth, if the dwarf had shown any signs of betraying him, the warrior would have tossed him to the ogres without a second thought. But for now, the plan on the table, which required the dwarf to be alive, seemed to be the only one they had.
Ferros tucked the short sword into his waistband and wrapped the chain around his shoulder and chest. He turned, once, to regard Ariakas with a faintly apprais shy;ing eye. 'You know how the drawbridge works?' he asked.
'This latchpin is the release-these coils hold tension on the chain to let the bridge down slowly,' Ariakas explained with confidence.
'I'm glad I asked,' Ferros replied tartly. 'Unless you engage this friction bar, those coils won't hold up a thing. You'd have squashed me into a hearthcake!'
'Oh, the friction bar,' Ariakas said sheepishly. It was a simple lever, and he pushed it into its engaged posi shy;tion-a detail he would have forgotten on his own.
'Wish me luck,' said Ferros rhetorically. He sprang into the narrow window and tested the tension on the chain.
With remarkable agility, the dwarf scrambled along the chain, dangling beneath it and supporting himself with broad, long-fingered hands. The muscles in his shoulders tightened from the strain, but he quickly worked his way to the great eye-bolt in the draw-bridge's end plank. Beyond him yawned full darkness, with just the snow patches on the surrounding peaks visible in the faint starlight.
Heaving himself up to the edge of the bridge, Ferros straddled the end beam for a moment while he manipu shy;lated the ring, latching it around the same eye-bolt that supported the drawbridge chain. Then, with a quick wave, he dropped out of sight behind the stout wooden barrier.
Immediately Ariakas turned to the winch mechanism to reassure himself that the friction bar remained engaged. He released the latchpin, and-true to Fer-ros's prediction-the weight of the bridge began to draw out the chain with a slow, deliberate rattle.
The low drone of ogre voices that Ariakas had heard throughout the keep changed in timbre. First came a slight pause, and he pictured the brutes reacting with shock to the lowering of their drawbridge. Then, as he expected, he heard cries of alarm and footsteps thun shy;dering up the stairs.
A quick glance showed him that the bridge still had a long way to go, so he ran to the stout door and checked to see that the bar was firmly placed. In the next instant he heard a booming smash against that barrier, and then another. Gruff, growling voices snapped and barked at him from the other side. The words were unintelligible but the outrage came through clearly.
Good-at least the first part of their plan had taken the enemy by surprise. He ran back to the window, careful to avoid the chain that steadily clanked outward and down. The drawbridge had reached its halfway point. Although the darkness of the mountains closed in, he could make out enough of the shadowy platform to judge its distance from the ground. As it fell farther away from the main hall, sputtering torches in the entryway cast their illumination outward, an orange glow creeping slowly up the planks.
The ogres continued to pound at the door to the room, but the beam was stout and showed no signs of splintering. The drawbridge dropped lower, and Aria shy;kas tried to imagine Ferros's situation. He knew the dwarf must be swinging back and forth from his short chain during the entire descent. The warrior pictured that terrifying gorge, yawning nearly bottomless below the Hylar's feet, and vertigo tightened his gut. He admitted to himself that Ferros Windchisel was nothing if not courageous.
Finally he saw ogres scrambling up the sloping sur shy;face of the descending bridge-the dwarf knew his ogres-and Ariakas quickly jammed the latchpin into the winch. Immediately the drawbridge ceased its descent, poised a distance that he hoped was within the dwarf's swinging range above the opposite lip of the chasm.
The bridge lurched, and as Ariakas leapt back to the window, he saw one of the scrambling ogres stumble and fall, surprised by the sudden cessation of move shy;ment. The monster rolled from the edge of the bridge, screaming frantically at his companions-two of whom, in a surprising display of courageous loyalty, dived to catch their cohort's hands.
But the ogre's hold was too precarious, his weight too ponderous for any such dramatic rescue. Slowly, inex shy;orably, the grip of clutching fingers weakened until at last he fell free. The wriggling form swiftly vanished into the darkness below, but the echoes of his terrified scream lingered long afterward, ringing from the sur shy;rounding crags.
Had Ferros Windchisel made his leap? Ariakas had no way of knowing, for it was fully black beyond the end of the drawbridge. How long should he wait before dropping it the rest of the way? What if the dwarf chose to escape silently, failing to draw any of the ogres after him?
A long, ululating cry rose from the darkness, well beyond the lip of the drawbridge. Ferros was as good as his word! Immediately the ogres fell silent, almost as if the dwarf's taunting call had touched some deep, pri shy;mal instinct within them. Then their howling grew to a maddening frenzy, and those on the drawbridge scrambled desperately outward, as if hoping that their weight alone would be enough to drop the bridge the rest of the way.
Now was the time. Ariakas started back to the latch-pin, but then paused for an instant. A cruel grin split his scarred lip, and he disengaged the friction bar. Only then did he release the latch.
Chain whizzed past him with a high-pitched scream, unrolling as fast as the unrestricted gears could turn. With a shuddering crash the drawbridge smashed onto the far side of the chasm, bouncing sharply upward before it came to rest again. At least two ogres tumbled off the sides-there may have been more, but Ariakas didn't see them. In any event, terrified howls added to the din as the unfortunate beasts tumbled thousands of feet to their deaths.
But now the drawbridge was down and then, once more, that strangely musical howl rose from the dark shy;ness. The ogres thundered out of the tower in a stam shy;pede, bellowing their outrage and fury as the entire band rumbled toward the echoes of the dwarf's unearthly cry.
Ariakas listened a moment, satisfaction growing within him. Even the ogres who had been pounding at his door rushed down the stairs to join in the stampede. The fools! He crowed to himself, allowing his pleasure to grow into a kind of elation.
Quickly he pulled aside the tapestry and raced around the dizzying spirals toward the top level, his breath drawn in gasping pants by the time he reached the next landing. Struggling for air, he pounded higher, lumbering through the darkness of the secret stair. He passed another landing, and then another.
A few steps above that landing Ariakas crashed headlong onto a solid grate of iron bars. The shock of the
