get in this way.'

'How many are out there?'

'Maybe a hundred. Half are stacked up on top of one another,' replied the elf. 'I can handle this. I'll send a runner if we need-'

Boughstrong's words were cut short as he was knocked to the ground by a four-legged black beast.

'Worgs!' came the cry.

But it was too late. Boughstrong already had one atop his chest.

Purdun swung down on the rider-a red-skinned Kuldin Peaks goblin. His sword was intercepted by the worg, its teeth biting down on the blade with a clang.

Purdun pulled back, slipping the sword out of the beast's jaws and cutting a huge gash in its foul gums as he did. The creature yelped and snapped its teeth, but the crusader dodged away, just barely getting out from under its fangs as they clamped down.

With a hiss, Tammsel leaped on the worg, wrapping his arms around the mount's neck and tackling it to the ground. The rider was thrown from its back, as the half-steel dragon and the filthy beast rolled across the dusty flagstones. The worg howled, its teeth making a loud snapping each time it tried to bite into the man on its back.

Purdun quickly dispatched the downed goblin, cutting its body in two with a mighty cleave. Then he helped Boughstrong to his feet.

'Ready to fight?'

The elf nodded and picked up his swords.

Three more worgs bounded over the wall, leaping over the crusaders' heads deeper into the mustering grounds.

Purdun and Boughstrong turned to face them. The man and the elf had their backs to the outer wall. The worgs' leap had put them close to the open doors to Zerith Hold-closer than Purdun and Boughstrong. Nothing stood between the invaders and the undefended inside of the hold.

'We can't let them get inside,' shouted Purdun, and he flung himself at the first rider.

The soldiers at the wall followed his lead, spreading out around the worgs.

On the ground, Tammsel continued to wrestle. Fur flew, and blood splashed. They traded claw blows and snapped at each other's throats. It was a fight to the death, two primal forces struggling for survival.

Boughstrong swept around to the right of Purdun to circle behind the closest worg rider. The move confused the hulking mount, because it snapped at the air, first toward one crusader and then the other. The goblin on its back tried to control it, but it was no use; the beast, not the rider, was in charge.

The worg lunged at Boughstrong, and Purdun slashed its tail from behind. The creature let out a yelp and spun around, growling. But that's all it had time for. The elf's flanking move had worked, and he came down on the beast with his blades, severing both hind legs.

The worg's rear end dropped to the ground, little more than a bloody stump, and the creature curled up on itself. It yowled, a helpless moaning wail, and pulled itself in circles with its front legs. Confused and desperate, it flailed on the ground, trying to salve its wounds. In the process, the worg pinned its goblin rider to the ground, smashing it to a pulp with its heavy, hairy frame as it squirmed in agony.

Another yelp echoed through the mustering grounds, overtopping all the other sounds of fighting. Tammsel got to his feet, the worg he had been wrestling gripped in one hand-his dragonlike claws buried in its throat. The creature pawed weakly at his arms, struggling to breathe. Gashes in its sides wept blood and pus, and its tail stuck out straight from its body.

The yelping stopped as the worg expired. Its body fell limp, hanging from Tammsel's claws like a freshly slaughtered cow on a meat hook.

The other soldiers had dispatched one of the final two worgs when the last one turned and made a break for the open door to Zerith Hold.

'You men,' shouted Purdun, pointing to half a dozen soldiers close to the door, 'after him!'

But his order was drowned out by the growls of five more worgs as they came leaping over the wall. Two men were caught off guard, torn to shreds by a frenzy of claws and teeth.

Purdun looked out at the mustering grounds. They weren't making any progress. The goblins would continue to get over the wall, and eventually more of them would get into the open back door. They really didn't need to hold that part of the keep. It just wasn't smart to stay there.

'Fall back!' he ordered. 'Everyone inside the hold. We're ceding the mustering grounds.'

The men did as they were told, disengaging from the goblin riders and bolting for the heavy doors at the back of Zerith Hold. Purdun, Boughstrong, and Tammsel took up the rear, covering the retreat. They stood side by side, fighting slowly back, as the worgs and their goblin riders stalked forward, trying to get past and into the hold.

'Inside, now!' Purdun bolted for the opening.

The elf and the half-dragon followed suit, dashing into the waiting door, the goblin riders right on their heels.

The cry went up among the men: 'Shut it!'

It moved slowly as they shoved. The heavy wood and iron door had been designed to be difficult to open and as a result was also difficult to close. The old iron hinges creaked and complained as they went, and the worgs clawed at the opening, their fang-filled snouts reaching inside for whatever they could grab hold of.

Soldiers stabbed at the snapping beasts and their riders. When one would retreat, another would take its place, blocking the door from fully closing.

'Put your back into it!' shouted Purdun. He squatted down and pushed with all his might, his shoulders pressed against the heavy wood and iron bands.

The door moved farther, banging into the worgs. They growled, tearing at the wood with their claws and fangs.

Their riders jabbed their swords into the opening, creating a further barrier to getting it closed.

'All together!' shouted Tammsel. 'One, two, three-now!'

Everyone who wasn't pushing the door lunged at the opening with their weapons. Blades scissored over one another into the gap. Eyes were gouged out, teeth cut loose, and paws torn to shreds. The soldiers' collective attack forced the worgs back, and the last few inches of the gap were cleared out.

'Push!'

The men groaned, straining with all they had, and the door slammed closed.

The sound of the heavy wooden crossbeam sliding into place brought a wave of relief washing through Purdun, and he took a huge gulp of air. It felt good to rest, his back leaning against the solid old wood of the door. But there was still a battle to be fought, and a worg loose inside his home.

Pushing himself away from the door, he took off into the hold.

'Half of you stay here. The rest follow me.' He waved the men after him as he bounded away, Boughstrong, Tammsel, and a host of soldiers right behind.

Moving down the stone hallway, the men peeled off one at a time, searching the rooms as they went. As they cleared them, they rejoined the group. It didn't take them long to search the entire army wing of the hold, and they continued on.

Reaching the entry, they found what they were looking for.

The worg stood its ground, growling at half a dozen pikemen who had it cornered in one of the formal dining rooms. The large table in the center had been turned over, and the dishes were in shards on the floor. The worg's goblin rider had been unseated and stood beside it, waving a short sword frantically back and forth.

The pikemen closed in on the pair slowly, backing them up against the wall. When the worg realized it was cornered, it panicked and leaped at the closest soldier, only to be gutted from throat to belly by the head of a pike.

Seeing its mount fall to the ground, its chest open wide, the goblin tried to skitter under the overturned table. It clawed at the cloth and detritus on the floor, but there was no room, and it too received a belly full of steel.

'I guess that takes care of that,' said Purdun. 'Well done, men.'

Slipping his sword into its sheath, he took one last look at the ruined dining room, then headed out to take stock of the situation in the courtyard.

Outside, things had reached a relative calm. Archers on the wall occasionally lobbed arrows down on the

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