“If this is a farm,” Bruni said, raising a hand in caution, “don’t you think we might run into some farmers?”
“Good point,” Barq agreed, scowling into the shadows of a particularly thick grow of giant fungus. “They might be watching us right now.”
“They might,” Kerrick said, “but I don’t think they are. I’ve been looking around, and-at this end of the Moongarden at least-I don’t see any sign of tending or cultivation. It’s as if all of this stuff just grows wild here.”
“It’s so big that maybe they don’t have to come this far to get what they need,” Moreen speculated. “After all, we have to assume that the city lies somewhere beyond the far end of this cavern, don’t we?”
“It has to be in that direction,” the elf agreed, pointing. “We haven’t come far enough from Icewall Pass to reach the mountain of Winterheim yet. I’m certain that we’re underground, maybe right under the Icewall, but still someplace between the pass and the city.”
“Well, we’re on the right path,” the chiefwoman declared. “We just have to keep moving.”
“How’s your face?” Bruni said, speaking to Barq as they ambled along. “Do those bruises still hurt?”
The big warrior put his hand to his nose and wiggled, then shook his head. “The old lady’s ointment’s good stuff. I can even breathe with my mouth closed again.”
“The power of Chislev Wilder,” Moreen remarked. “Dinekki has long been in favor with our goddess.”
“Perhaps we should find a place to rest while we’re still in the wild part of the Moongarden,” Kerrick said. “This might be our best chance to gather our strength and have plenty to eat, before we try to push on into Winterheim itself.”
“Good idea,” Moreen said. She turned to Kerrick and Bruni. “Over there looks like a nice grotto. It’s out of sight from the main cavern. I see signs of a waterfall, and it might be large enough to give us all some soft ground for sleeping.”
She led them along the bank of a rapid stream. Nearby, the uneven floor of the cavern rose from the ground level into a ten- or twelve-foot embankment, a ledge that would serve very well to conceal them. The clearing was small but flat, and a layer of lush moss cushioned the ground.
“This looks like a good place,” Kerrick offered. “There’s enough space for all of us to stretch out, make a camp, and still be out of sight.”
“I’ll have a look around,” Barq One-Tooth said. “Make sure we don’t have any neighbors.”
“Be careful you don’t meet the neighbors,” Moreen warned.
“No chance o’ that,” the Highlander snorted.
He stepped across the stream on several small, dry-topped stones, showing surprisingly nimbleness for his size. Three steps later he had disappeared between the trunks of the mushroom trees in the nearby grove.
In a few minutes the two Arktos women and the elf had dropped their packs and shucked their heavy boots. Moreen sat down and relished the feel of her feet immersed in the cold spring water flowing past. Nearby, Kerrick found a pool of comfortably warm water in which he quickly washed his hands, feet, face, and hair.
Bruni, meanwhile, was delegated to go back to get the rest of the war party. Rolling her broad shoulders, stretching after she relieved herself of the heavy load of her pack, she lumbered toward the entrance where Mouse waited with the others. Kerrick made himself comfortable, dropping on his back and closing his eyes.
Moreen felt refreshed and invigorated but not yet ready to bed down, so she decided to take a walk along the shore of the stream. She scrambled up a steep stretch of jumbled rock beside the small waterfall where the water spilled over the embankment.
She stopped in shock when she saw movement a short distance away, someone walking in a meadow beside the stream. Ducking down, she recognized the rounded shoulders and hulking size of a bull ogre. The creature, who carried a heavy whip, stopped suddenly and planted his hands on his hips.
“All right, Tookie, you get out here!” he barked.
Moreen gaped as a human girl suddenly stepped from the cover of the fungus grove, barely ten feet away. The youngster’s eyes flicked in panic to the chiefwoman, who was still concealed from the ogre’s view. The child turned to the ogre and stepped out of Moreen’s sight, but the Lady of Brackenrock could hear her clearly as she spoke.
“Yes, Master Harmlor. What do you want from me?”
The chiefwoman drew farther back, leaning against the stalk of a giant mushroom, her pulse pounding. She couldn’t see the girl any more but knew that the child had spotted her. Would she reveal the presence of intruders to the whip-wielding ogre? There was no way to know.
Turning back to the grotto, Moreen skidded down the stones of the steep embankment, dropping the last few feet into the meadow where her elf companion rested.
“Kerrick! Wake up!” she whispered urgently, kneeling beside the elf, nudging him.
A seasoned campaigner, he awakened without a loud expression of alarm and quickly snatched up his long sword. Moreen spotted Bruni off a short distance away, where the big woman had apparently stopped to wash up, and waved at her in agitation. Bruni came lumbering back, whispering
“What’s wrong?” as she drew close to her companions.
“There’s an ogre up there-and a human girl, a slave. She saw me then got called away by the ogre.”
The elf was already climbing, his sword held in his right hand. A few steps from the top he froze, and the chiefwoman looked past him and gasped.
The ogre she had observed moments before stood there, looking down at them with a wicked grin. The little girl was at his side, her arm clasped in his meaty hand as she tried to squirm away. His other hand held the long, sinuous whip in a relaxed, ready grip.
“What do we have? Mice or rats?” asked the ogre with a deep chuckle. He tossed the girl away contemptuously; she landed among the rocks and started to cry.
“You bastard!” Kerrick snarled, lunging.
The ogre was faster. The whip curled out and snapped loudly. Kerrick cried out and stumbled back, clutching his hand, as his sword dropped from his grip to fall between several of the jagged boulders.
“That’s enough o’ that,” barked the ogre. “You three waits right here, and ol’ Harmlor keeps an eye on ya. There’ll be help comin’ soon enough, then we’ll find outs where you needs to go.”
Bruni moved to the side, and the whip cracked again, snapping in the air before her face. “That’s enough, girl. Say, you’re a big one, aintcha? Kinda pretty, too-not a scrawny bag o’ bones, like most o’ you human wenches. You must get sick o’ these puny slave fellas.”
He laughed, an obscene bark of sound, and Moreen felt fury overwhelm her. She started forward, and when the whip came up again she glared at the ogre in defiance. Pointing at the whimpering girl, she spoke.
“I’m going to see if the little one’s all right.”
“Tookie? She’s fine, but go ahead. Just move slow.”
The chiefwoman reached between the rocks and lifted the girl free. The youngster cried out as her arm twisted, and Moreen saw that the bone was broken.
“I’ve got something that’ll help that,” she said.
“D-don’t hurt me,” sniffled Tookie. She glanced up at the ogre, her eyes wide with fright. “He made me show him where you where.”
“We won’t hurt you,” replied the woman, leading her to the pack containing Dinekki’s ointment. “Here, sit down.”
Moreen glanced up again and saw that Harmlor was watching her with amusement. She saw something else too and had to exert all of her will not to react as Barq One-Tooth came into view, advancing stealthily behind the hulking overseer. The Highlander had his axe in his hands, the weapon raised high as he crept closer with measured, deliberate steps.
Some scuff of a footstep gave him away, and at the last minute, the ogre spun about and roared. That whip snaked out, but the Highlander was too fast, charging forward in a bull rush, swinging his axe in a blow that slashed across Harmlor’s face and chest. With an incongruously high-pitched scream the ogre toppled backward, falling down the embankment to crash awkwardly onto the rocks.
He thrashed there, trying to get up, as Kerrick reached between the rocks to snatch up his dropped sword. At the same time Barq leaped down, following his first blow with a sweeping downward slash. The elf stabbed at the same time, and the ogre kicked once and died.
