The darts stopped flying, and goblin cheers sounded below. The ogre stood, gloating, his stance nearly spanning the width of the bridge.
'Maybe I can slice him,' Jilian offered, but Chane pushed her back. The dwarf stood, balancing his hammer for combat. In return, the ogre licked its lips, grinned again, and came for him.
Chapter 31
Out on the plains, Thog had gathered the separate segments of Kolanda's command, and was marching toward the breaks. From the bridge-trail gap,
Kolanda saw the troops funneling between the distant hills, and knew there would be little for them to do. It would all be over before they arrived.
Already, she could hear the hoofbeats of the approaching horse. Edging back into the shadows of a stone slab, the Commander waved her six guards farther back into their hiding places across the trail. In moments, the riders would be between them.
'You can have the wizard, Caliban,' she muttered. 'The goblins and I will deal with the barbarian.'
'Glenshadow,' the withered thing at her breast whispered. 'Caliban has waited a very long time. Glenshadow will die many times now, before he is released to death.'
Kolanda felt the tingling of magic being amassed, and was satisfied.
Caliban would have no time to think of other things until he was through taking his revenge on the red-robed mage. By then, she would have the thing the wilderness man carried, the thing that would make Caliban truly her slave.
The horse's hooves clopped on stone, only yards from the ambushers, and the Commander gripped her blade and held her breath, counting the seconds.
Closer and closer the sounds came. There was motion beyond the stone, and a horse's head appeared. Kolanda raised her sword… and stopped. There were no riders, only a horse with an empty saddle. Looking straight ahead, the creature trotted on, seeing none of them… though its ears swiveled toward the goblin guards in hiding as it passed.
Kolanda stepped out from her hiding place and peered back the way the horse had come. Nothing. She turned and stared after the horse. It trotted on up the trail and disappeared around a turn, its hoofbeats fading.
'They've tricked me,' Kolanda breathed. 'Well, we'll see who gets the last trick.' She waved at her guards. 'Come out! Follow me, on the double!'
They fell in behind her, glancing at one another in confusion, and headed up the trail. At a dark cleft in the broken stone, the rearmost goblin saw the others pass by ahead of him, then paused as something seemed to move in the cleft. Slowing, he approached and stepped close to the darkness. It was the last thing he ever did. Hard hooves lashed out, with great haunches driving them. One caught the goblin in the face, the other in the chest.
Geekay stepped out of his hidey-hole, pawed at the dead thing on the trail, twitched his ears in revulsion, and looked up the trail where the others had gone. At an easy trot, he followed.
'It's a thing a man picks up, traveling wilderness,' Wingover explained, helping Glenshadow over a fissure. 'Never backtrack yourself without a diversion of some kind. You don't know what might be waiting for you.'
'And you might lose your horse,' the wizard rasped.
'Better him than me.' Wingover shrugged. 'But it's not likely. We've been around a while. He knows what to do.' The wilderness man paused and sniffed. 'I smell goblins.'
'And I sense evil,' Glenshadow said. 'Magic and evil. I wish I could see.'
The man looked at him, peering into his eyes. 'You mean you can't see?'
'I don't mean just with my eyes. There are better ways, you know.' He sighed. 'It seems I've been blind forever. The cursed Spellbinder.'
Wingover turned the helmet, indicating the green gem inside. 'What about this one? Pathfinder. What does it do to you?'
'Nothing… unless I touch it. You saw what it does then.'
'Is that because you're a wizard?'
Glenshadow nodded. 'The two gems react to magic. Pathfinder holds it in place; Spellbinder confuses it, turns it upon itself. It is how Gargath trapped the graystone. At least, such is the legend. I believe it now.'
Abruptly Wingover turned away, holding up his hand. 'Hush,' he whispered. 'Listen!'
Ahead of them, not far away, there was a clamor of voices. Goblins cheered and cackled.
'They're at the bridge,' Wingover said. 'Let's go.' With a bound he hurried on, leaving Glenshadow to follow as best he could. Running, sprinting, leaping from stone to stone atop the broken zone, Wingover rounded a shoulder and saw the bridge ahead. Goblins in force pressed forward at the foot of it, and a huge ogre with a club stood halfway up its slope, facing down. Between were the two dwarves and the kender.
Even at this distance, Wingover saw Chane Feldstone brace himself for battle… a tiny creature, not half as tall as the monster he faced, and armed only with a hammer. Above it all, the crazy gnome circled in the air on the wings of a sailcloth kite.
Wingover slung the dwarven helmet at his back, tightened the straps on his shield, and raised his sword. By the time he hit the lower trail, he was moving at a run. His war cry was a howl of fury as he burst upon the goblin platoon.
Loam advanced slowly toward the waiting dwarf, enjoying the moment, drawing out the sweet satisfaction of destroying the small creature who had humiliated him. For long days and long miles, the ridicule Cleft had heaped upon him after digging him out from the fallen stone, had rung in his ears. His fury had fermented into a deep hatred for the dwarf with the cat-fur garments. Cleft was dead now, and Loam felt no regret, but still the harsh glee of his fellow's taunts lingered to haunt the ogre.
Many times in his life, Loam had killed dwarves — as well as humans and other lesser creatures. He had even killed two elves, purely for the sport of it. But this kill would be the sweetest of all. He wanted to make it last.
Just within reach of the smaller being, he feinted suddenly, thrusting his club forward. The dwarf's frenzied dodge delighted him, and he chuckled, a deep rumble like distant thunder. Again Loam jabbed, prodding with the huge club, this time grazing Chane's head as the dwarf backpedaled. Was that panic in the little creature's eyes? Loam's pleasure deepened. He held the club out, waving it lazily from side to side, taunting, and beckoned with his other hand. 'Little fighter,' he chuckled.
'See how brave! Can't even make his knees behave. Think your hammer worries me? Come and try it, then you'll see.'
From the corner of his eye Loam saw the little kender sidling along the bridge rail, trying to flank him. With his empty hand he reached out, swatted casually, and sent the small thing tumbling. 'Friends can't help the fighting one,' he rumbled. 'Dwarf must deal with Loam alone.'
He raised his club higher, threatening, and suddenly the dwarf darted under it. Loam roared as the creature's hammer cracked against his kneecap.
Chane ducked between the ogre's legs, whirled around, and went between again as the monster turned, getting in another blow at the same kneecap.
The ogre's roar was deafening. Chess darted past, swatting the ogre across the knuckles with the heavy end of his hoopak and chattering at the top of his lungs, hurling taunts and insults that fairly summarized the misbegotten nature of ogredom.
A tide of goblins had started to flow up the bridge, but they now hesitated. Beyond the bridge spires a bloodchilling howl sounded, and goblins scattered in panic as Wingover charged among them, shield pummeling, sword flashing. A few goblins at the foot of the bridge turned and tried to form a defense, but were cut down by Jilian in full spin.
At the ogre's feet, Chane managed one more solid blow with his hammer, this time at Loam's midriff. The dwarf was then knocked flat by the massive club. He lay stunned, trying to breathe, and Loam stepped to him.
