revelment. But their shrill gaiety was cut short by another dinning clash of axe on buckler, again followed by a single thunderous shout bursting forth from the entire Legion: CHAKKA COR!
And quickly upon the ensuing silence, Durek roared in wrath, 'We did not come to parley with a foul usurper! We are here to fight to the death!' And the Dwarf King signalled his herald, who raised the great War Horn to his lips and blew a blast that sprang from pillar to post to wall and roof. The Hall seemed to tremble and shudder with its sound, and all the Host took heart. An answering blare came from the Spaunen homs, and the two mighty armies came rushing together with hoarse shouts and a great resounding crash of weapons.
Perry and Cotton sprang down from the base of the pillar and rushed to the fray. Faced by the Rucken Horde, the Dwarves had formed a wall of flashing axes, and the maggot-folk could not break through the phalanx. Likewise, neither Warrow could reach the Rucks; the two ran up and down the lines, but to no avail. The axes hewed and slashed and cut the foe with dreadful effect. Dwarves also were felled, but the ranks somehow closed, and still the Spawn failed to penetrate.
Gnar had withheld the great Ogru-Trolls, for they were the last in Drimmen-deeve, and the secret of his power; and the prowess of Dwarf Troll-squads was legendary. Hence, only shouting Rucks and snarling Hloks clashed with the Dwarves in this first charge.
Blood and gore splashed the stone of the hall, and screams rent the air, and corpses littered the floor. The Dwarves' compact deployment defied the enemy attack, and at last the Horde withdrew. Dwarf wounded were drawn into the center, and fresher warriors stepped to the fore.
Twice more the' Spawn charged, only to suffer dismaying losses, for twice more the Dwarves' formation held, and the Horde was beaten back; the Rucks could not break through to bring their greater numbers to bear. Many of the Chakka, however, were felled, and the Dwarves yielded back a bit to consolidate their perimeter.
Gnar knew that he would have to use the great Trolls, even though he could not replace them, even though were they to fall, his rule in Drimmen-deeve might fall with them, for other Hloks could then challenge him without fear. Yet without the Ogrus, the Hlok-Ied Rucks could not break the Dwarf array, and unless the array were broken, Gnar would suffer defeat at the hands of the Chakka.
Hence, once again Gnar ordered a charge, but this time he loosed the Cave Trolls. These mighty engines of destruction waded into the forefront of the Dwarves, their great iron War-bars swinging to and fro to crush all before them. The Dwarves gave back, and there stood a gap in the wall of axes. Hordes of Rucks streamed into the center, and the Dwarves' mighty phalanx disintegrated: the formation was broken and the Dwarf defence was sundered into Companies, squads, pairs, and single Dwarves fighting against desperate odds.
In the center, fifty or more Dwarves surrounded each Ogru, hewing and hacking at their vitals and great legs; but Gnar ordered Rucks to attack the Troll-squads, and whether the Dwarves would have succeeded in felling the giants will never be known, for the Rucks assaulted the squads and turned the Dwarves' energies aside.
Perry and Cotton found themselves facing the foe at last, and the relentless hours of Kian's sword- instructions now showed their worth, for the Warrows' blades wove swift nets of death upon the enemy.
Perry lunged under a hammer, and blazing Bane drank black Ruck blood; the foe fell, but another took his place, and Elven-blade clashed against Rucken-scimitar. A parry, riposte, and thrust ended that duel, but another Ruck lashed a bar at the Warrow, And amid snarling Rucks and cursing Dwarves and the clash and clangor of War, Perry dodged and whirled and darted, and hacked and stabbed and cut, felling Ruck after Ruck in the swirling battle.
Cotton, too, was pressed by a great number of the maggot-folk: they seemed to come at him from all points. Twisting among ally and foe alike, Cotton hewed and clove and pierced with his Atalar sword; and Rucks fell about the Warrow like grain before the scythe.
And as circumstances would have it, the two Warrows found themselves battling back to back near the lip of the Great Deep, hindguarding one another while dealing death to the foe at hand.
Soon the assailants fell back, for these small warriors were much more skilled than they, and the two in glittering silver and shining golden armor seemed bright and invincible.
But men a great Hlok jumped forward to challenge Cotton. Even as the Hlok engaged Cotton's sword, a Ruck tried to take the buccan from the rear; but Perry and Bane cut down the foe, the Ruck's death scream to be lost among the shouts filling the War Hall. And with Perry guarding his back, Cotton fought the enemy before him. Clang! went sword on scimitar, and the clash and skirl of steel upon steel rang out. Cotton was pressed hard, for the Hlok was skilled, but at last the Warrow turned a thrust aside and slashed his blade through the throat of the Hlok. Blood flew wide, and the enemy fell.
AH wailed the Rucks and drew back; but one set an arrow to his bow and drew it full to the cruel barb and let the black shaft fly at point-blank range. But Perry had seen the danger, and with a warning shout he leapt forward to knock Cotton aside. And the arrow slammed into Perry, its force so great that it penetrated even the silveron mail, bursting through a chink high on the chest where an amber gem was inset among the links. And the Warrow slammed backwards against the base of one of the great Dragon Pillars, and crumpled to the stone, the buccan pierced through. Cotton sprang forward with a cry of rage, and his blade mortally clove the Ruck from helm to breast. The remaining Rucks fled from the small enraged warrior in the golden mail. And Cotton's wrath turned to dismay as he fell to his knees beside Perry's.still form.
'Mister Perry! Mister Perry!' wailed Cotton, hugging the fallen Warrow to his breast. And then Perry moaned, and Cotton saw that he wasn't dead. 'Oh, Mister Perry, you're alive! Oh, don't die, Mister Perry. I couldn't bear it if you died.'
With chaos and confusion and slaughter all around, and with a savage and desperate battle raging back and forth above them, Cotton knelt at the edge of the Great Deep and held on to Perry and wept and rocked back and forth in torment.
Perry opened his eyes, his vision swimming in a sea of pain, and looked to see Cotton's face dimly before him. 'Oh, Cotton, Cotton, what have I done?' whispered Perry. 'I have dragged you off into a quest where neither one of us belongs. And you may be slain. Oh, Cotton, when I reached for this adventure, 1 did not stop to consider anyone's feelings but my own. The only thing that mattered was my own lust for excitement. I did not stop to think how you felt, or Holly… poor Holly… Did you see how she cried, Cotton? I didn't know. I didn't think. That's it! 1 didn't think. Me, the bright scholar, the glorious Fairhil! Scholar, and I can't mink my way past a foolish dream of bold achievement.
'It was all foredoomed anyway. My whole witless venture was unnecessary. No single part of it was necessary. Look at our mission: We tried to sneak through Drimmen-deeve, and the Dusk-Door wasn't even broken. Barak died for nought. Tobin suffered needlessly. Delk died for nought. And Ursor. And what for?… What for?… What for?'
Cotton looked into Perry's sapphirine eyes. 'Oh, no, Mister Perry,' he protested, 'you've got it all wrong. That's not the way of it at all. They needed us. Without us the raids of the maggot-folk would go on. Without us the Dwarves might not have gone to Dusk-Door and would have died in the Great Deep.' Cotton gestured at the nearby gulf. 'Without us the Dwarves wouldn't have stood a chance.'
A grimace of pain crossed Perry's features, and he gasped through clenched teeth. 'Leastwise now, leastwise now…' A shuddering sigh racked the wounded buccan, and unconsciousness mercifully washed over him.
'Mister Perry!' cried Cotton, fearing the worst, but before he could press his ear to Perry's breast, one of the huge Cave Trolls, seeing two small, helpless targets hidden in the shadow of a Dragon Pillar, lumbered toward the Warrows.
Cotton saw the Ogru coming, and gently eased Perry to the floor. Catching up his sword, Cotton sprang between the Troll and the wounded buccan. And as he ran into the path of the dire creature, the story from The Raven Book of Parrel and the Ogru on the bridge flashed into Cotton's mind, and he shouted, 'Hail Troll! You great clumsy oaf! Look at me! I am the golden warrior!' And the buccan held his arms wide and danced to one side, drawing the Troll's full attention. The huge Ogru stared stupidly at the small creature in the shining gilded mail; then he raised his great iron bar and struck.
Crack! The bar smashed to the stone, but the nimble Warrow was not there. Cotton sprang to the side and forward, and hewed with his Atalar sword, hacking just above the great Ogru's knee, for that was the highest the small Warrow could reach with his blade. But the edge clanged into the Troll's armor-like hide and glanced down.
Crack! The great iron bar missed again, and once more Cotton's blade failed to cut the stone skin. As the
