"How came Ursor, a Man, to be with a company of Elves?" asked Perry.
"Ah," replied Shannon, "that is a mystery: One night, we beset a company of Rupt, and in the midst of battle, there he appeared, swinging that black iron mace with great effect. He has been with us ever since; his woodcraft nearly equals an Elf s. He talks seldom of his past, but this we now know: He was hunting Spaunen alone, wreaking vengeance for his wife and child, slain on a journey to far Vaion. Before joining us he would lie in wait for a Ruch or three to become separated from their bands, and then he would strike. He also set snares and deadfalls and spiked pits on the paths Rucha and Loka alone travelled. Now that he is with us, he need no longer wait for mischance on the part of just one or two Rupt, as you have seen, he attacks with us in fury to lay many victims by the heels. He says his revenge now goes swifter."
Perry looked ahead at the big Mart and almost pitied the maggot-folk. Then something that had been nagging at the back of his mind sprang to the fore, and Perry called, "Ursor, wait!" And the Warrow rushed to catch up with the Baeran. As the two of them strode side by side, Perry said, "Ursor, I just now remembered, your kinsman Baru, warden of the Crestan Pass, and his three sons send greetings. Baru says that all is well at home. He also trusts that your vengeance against the 'Wrg' goes to your satisfaction.*'
The Squad tramped onward in silence, two of the buccan's strides matching one of the Baeran's. Finally Ursor replied, "Thank you, Wee One. Long has it been since I've had word from my kith."
The Seven marched swiftly along the path and came through the hillpass and started down the far slopes. Spread out before them was a great tilt of land trapped between the eastern spur they had just crossed and the Grimwall Mountains on the western side. The slope rose up to the west and into the flanks of the Quadran: Rdvenor, Aggarath, Ghatan, and Uchan. These four mountains were known to Man as Stormhelm, Grimspire, Loftcrag, and Greytower, and to Elves as Coron, Aevor, Chagor, and Gralon. Each held stone of a different hue: ruddy Stormhelm, sable Grimspire, azurine Loftcrag, ashen Greytower. Beneath this quartet of mighty peaks was delved Kraggen-cor, and cupped within their embrace was a wide, cambered valley: the Pitch. When the slant came into view, the company paused, and
the Dwarves eagerly crowded forward- to see down into the land. With a wide sweep of hand, Lord Kian gestured at the great acclivity hemmed by the mountains. "There lies the land the Dwarves call Baralan," he said to Perry, "and the Elves name Falanith; it is the Pitch." Kian then pointed toward the upward end of the long slant. "And up there at the far brim and looking down upon this slope is our next goal: Dawn-Gate. On the morrow we march to the portal, in sunlight. But now evening draws nigh, and we must camp away from this path, for its sign shows that heavy-shod feet have marched by recently: Yrm boot, I think. It would not do to be discovered by a chance patrol."
The Seven moved out of the path and to the cover of a thicket in a swale on the slope. The Sun had dropped beyond the mountains, and they made camp in the deep shadows of the peaks.
That night, early in Kian's watch. Perry was awakened by Delk to see Bane's blade-jewel flickering again with a cobalt gleam. As before, Perry slipped the blade into its sheath so that the blue light would not be seen by the enemy. Periodically he would shield it with a cupped hand and draw it an inch or two, then slide it back into the scabbard to hide its luminance. This time the light slowly grew to a strong blue flame that ran along the blade, and they heard heavy boots stamping up the path, and armor jingling. The waxing Moon was over half full, and the companions watched as a large company of maggot-folk tramped up the path and passed in the night. And within his bosom Perry's heart hammered as if it were a caged bird wild to escape.
Slowly the flame subsided as the danger marched away, until it was but a faint glimmer. Slowly, too, did Perry return to calmness, and then only by pushing aside all thought of maggot-folk and sinking deep within his memories of Woody Hollow and The Root and the sound of Holly quietly humming as she tended her flower garden.
Twice more that night the flame flickered lightly within the jewel of the Elven-blade, but the Seven saw no other Spawn.
The next morning, in early sunlight, the Squad started on the last leg of their overland journey. They came down out of the hillspur and headed west up the long Pitch. As the Seven
moved onto the slope, the margins became steeper on the sides of the valley, and here and there they were covered with runs of birch and fir trees; and heather and furze grew on the land. Down below, the comrades could see a sparkling stream dashing down out of the vale: it was the Quadrill, a river fed by many mountain streams to grow wide on its run through Darda Gallon, where it was joined by the Cellener and the Rothro to flow onward and come at last to the Argon.
In the early afternoon the Seven moved deeply into the Pitch, flanked on three sides by mountains. Perry could see to the north end, where a glittering rill cascaded in many falls down from the snows of Stormhelm. The stream and the path it fell beside were named the Quadran Run; the pathway led up over Quadran Pass to come down in the land called Rell. "How close are we to Durek's Army and Cotton and your brother Rand?'' Perry asked Lord Kian, peering at the snowbound pass.
"If my reckoning is right and nothing has delayed their course, the Army should now be coming to the Dusk-Door. And we are two days of swift march from here to that portal-if we could cross through yon blocked gap and then follow the Old Way. But, Perry, could you fly like an eagle, you are but forty miles, or so, over the mountain from there." Lord Kian looked down at the Waerling. "Of course, we cannot soar like the hawk, but must instead go to ground tike the badger, for the route we follow is under the mountain, with many twists and turns-six and forty miles by your Brega Path."
On they marched until they came to the Quadmere, a clear, blue lakelet less than a mile from the east portal, Dawn-Gate. They went down the sward to the cold water to replenish their canteens. Anval, Bonn, and Delk looked upon the still mere with a sense of wonder, for there began the realm of Kraggen-cor. On the far side of the azure pool a stone embankment fell sheer into the water; up on the level top of that shore stood a broken pillar, like a maimed finger pointing at the sky: it was a Realmstone, marking this place as being a Dwarvenholt. And runes upon the stone bade all who desired, to drink deep of the pure cold water from the depths of ChSk-alon, the Dwarves' name for this quiet tarn. Lord Kian's eyes swept the flanks of the mountain, and men his look became fell. "There, I think. There lies the Dawn-Gate," he said in a grim voice, and he pointed up the slope.
Perry's heart jumped to his mouth, for there, before him, high up on the west wing of the Pitch, stood their destination: like a gaping black wound, the east entrance intoJCraggen-cor yawned mute, a dark and forbidding portal into a Spawn-filled maze. His heart thudded and his hands shook, and a thrill of fear coursed through him, for with the coming of the early morning Sun on the morrow, they would begin their desperate dash through this black hole to the far Dusk-Door. And he would be their guide, for it was his task to lead them without flaw on the tortuous way to that distant goal; and the full responsibility of his role now began to crush down on him.
Perry tore his eyes away from the black hole and let his gaze follow the broken stonework of an ancient wide roadway winding down from the entrance and into the valley below, where it was lost among the heather and gorse on the west side of the lake. But try as he might to not look, his vision was drawn again and again to that jet-black slot, and each time he looked his heart flopped over and he drew in his breath.
Ursor leaned down and said in a low voice that only Perry could hear, "Don't worry, Wee One; once we start we'll be too busy to think about it." Perry gave the large, understanding Man a flicker of a smite but said nought in return.
Lord Kian chose a thick grove of pine trees for the Squad to camp in that night. The wood stood high on the slope a mile north of the Dawn-Gate. He reasoned that Yrm forces would issue out of the gate and go east and south toward Darda Gallon-away
from the chosen coppice-and that any returning forces would come from that way too. Hence, well before daylight faded, the Seven were comfortably ensconced among the whin and pine, hidden from prying eyes..
As they lay in the evergreens, Perry became aware of the distant gurge of a great churn of tumbling water, and when he asked about it, Delk replied, "It is Durek's Wheel, the Vorvor." But the Dwarf did not say on, for night had fallen upon the Spawn-laden land, and they spoke no more.
Darkness overspread the valley, and shortly they saw H16k-~ led Rucks, bearing torches, issue out of the gate. And once again Perry's heart quickened its pace. Amid the clangor of armor and weaponry, a force was assembled, and then it marched away to the east along the old, broken road. Sentries were left guarding the portai, and guttering torchlight shone forth out of the cavern. And for an hour or two the only movement was that of Ruck guards shuffling around or slouching beside the entrance.
The silvery Moon overhead cast a pale radiance down into the valley and upon the mountainsides. By its light the companions continued to watch the entrance.
A time passed, and then, tramping up out of the vale, came a company of Spaunen bearing bales of unknown goods; whether they carried meat, grain, bolts of cloth, or other kinds of loot and plunder, the Seven could not tell, for they were too far removed from the Gate to see the nature of the freight. The Rucken company bore the burdens into the cavern, disappearing from view.
Another long while passed, and Perry fell asleep watching. When he was awakened, several hours had elapsed, for the Moon had set beyond the mountains. The buccan had been roused by Ursor and cautioned to quietness; a squad of torch-bearing maggot-folk had marched out of the gate and had turned north! They were coming toward the hiding place!
In ragged ranks, the maggot-folk tramped right at the pine grove; and the Seven flattened themselves, peering from concealment, hardly daring to breathe. Carefully, quietly, all but Perry took a weapon in hand, preparing for battle. The Warrow found his palms were wet with tension, and he wiped his hand on his breeks ere taking hold of his sword. But though Perry grasped Bane's hilt, he did not draw the long-knife, for he knew its werelight blazed, hidden by the scabbard. And the comrades lay in wait as the Spawn came onward.
Closer drew the maggot-foik, and now Perry could hear them speaking, but he could not make out what was being said; they were still too far away. As they came on, he found that although he could discern the individual voices and words, he could not understand their meaning at all; the words were harsh, somehow foul-sounding, as if made up of acrimonious snarls and discordant curses and grating oaths.
There were guttural growls and slobbering drool sounds. The Spawn were speaking in Siuk, an argot first spoken by the Hloks; but long ago in Neddra, Gyphon had declared it a common language for ail of Spawndom.
Perry shuddered at the sound of this festering tongue, but otherwise lay still as the Rucks tramped along an unseen path, only to turn and march past the grove and away to the north, toward the Quadran Run.
About an hour before dawn, the Spaunen patrol returned from the north, scuttling in haste to be in the Gate before the Sun rose. This time, though, there were more maggot-folk in the- group. When they scurried near the grove, Perry was surprised to realize that he could now understand what was being said: they were no longer using the Sluk but instead were mouthing words hi a polyglot akin to Pellarion, the Common Tongue of Mithgar, a polyglot often used by Hloks when they did not want their words to be well understood by their underlings, the Rucks:
"Gorbash's scummy company brought in a lot of loot tonight," whined one of the Hloks as they scrambled across the slope. "Maybe Gnar'll be pleased and lay off the whip."
"Not rat-mouth Gnar," snarled another. "That big pusbag ain't pleased with nothin' these nights. Ever since them bloody-handed Elves started cuttin' down his Nibs's minions, he ain't been pleased."
"1 hear there's another whole company missing, overdue by three days-Gushdug's bunch."
"Blast that rotskull Gushdug! If you ain't lyin' that means stinkthroat Gnar'll be layin' about with his cat-o'-tails more than ever; I'll ram this iron bar up his snot if he cracks those thongs my way. It's bad enough he had me and my bunch guarding this side of that stupid path over the scabby mountain, when he knows that slime-nose Sloog's gang alone is plenty; and they can watch from shelter, whereas we can't, bum their gob-covered hides. And Gnar deliberately left me there in the cold two extra weeks after the snows closed the way. I'll rip his throat out if he even looks sideways at me."
"You, Crotbone? Ha! You've got a big mouth, maggot brain. I know you: you'll be groveling in the dirt at his stinkin' feet like the rest of us when we report in, lickin' his boots and calling him*O Mighty One,' and all the time, just like the rest of us, you'll be wishing you could catch him from behind down in a dark hole alone, without Goth and Mog watchdogging him, then…" Perry heard no more, for they had moved beyond earshot..
As the rising Sun glanced over the horizon, Delk rubbed face blackener on Perry's cheeks and forehead and directed him to put some on his hands. The other members of the company were also darkening their hands and faees and checking each other for light spots. "Remember," Delk warned Perry, "when we are hiding, do not look directly at a Grg- your eyes will catch the torchlight and shine at him like two hot coals, and we will be discovered. Look to one side, or shield your eyes tightly with your hand and look through the cracks of your fingers; especially keep those jewel-like Utruni eyes of yours covered, Waeran, for they will glow like sapphires. Also, lest its light give us away, it would be better to keep Bane sheathed unless there is no other choice."
Perry nodded and rubbed a bit more of the sooty salve on Delk's exposed cheek. Satisfied, Perry stepped back and looked around at the others, seeing darkened faces and smudged hands. "My, what a ragtag bunch," Jie declared. "I'd always envisioned warriors as being bright and shining, but here we stand, the 'Secret Seven,' as motley a crowd as you'd ever ask to see." Perry at first just smiled, but the more he gazed at his companions the funnier it seemed. And suddenly he broke out in quiet laughter, and he could not seem to stop. And the others stared at him amazed, and still he laughed. And then its infectious quality caught Shannon, and he began chuckling too. Soon all had joined in, looking at each other's besmudged features and finding them comical.
"Well, my wee Waldan," growled Ursor with a grin,**I hope you don't get to giggling down in the Wrg pits; we'll be dis-covered for certes, all of us sitting around in a circle laughing our fool heads off." Again the company broke into hushed laughter.
"I never thought I would set forth on a sneak mission with a group of court jesters," growled Delk. "Yet, mayhap it is a new way of outwitting the foul Grg: I doubt that japes and buffoonery have ever been used against thieving Squam before. If we meet any, we will just fall on our prats, and while they'are screaming in merriment, blinded with tears of joy, we will slip away and pop open the Dusken Door and bring in the Army for an encore."
Lord Kian laughed quietly with the others, but he knew that their fey mood concealed a tension within, for they were about to set forth on a dire mission, and as is the wont of warriors everywhere in every age, rude jests are bandied about before sallying into an ordeal. Aye, Kian laughed too, yet a grim look crept o'er his features… and then: "Let us go now," he said, squinting at the half-risen Sun, and all smiles vanished. "By the time we get there the light will be shining full into the East Hall."
They started off down the slope and toward the gate. Perry's heart was racing, for they were about to step out of the kettle and into the coals. He mentally reviewed what he had told the others countless times during the overland journey about what to expect in the way of halls and chambers, especially on their initial penetration through Dawn-Gate. They had closely studied the map and reviewed every applicable bit of knowledge and lore known to Perry, Anval, Bonn, and Delk. And now the Warrow nearly had to bite his tongue to keep from repeating it aloud as an outlet to relieve t
he enormous pressure growing within him as they strode cross-slope toward the Gate.
And then they were mere.
Cautiously, bow fitted with arrow, Kian peered around one of the great gateposts and down the sunlit hall: it was empty. At the young Lord's signal, each of the comrades in turn stepped across the entryway and crept in past the great doors, torn from their hinges ages agone and flung down ori the stone floor, where they still lay. Standing in the shadows, the Seven could see before them a huge room delved out of the stone, with a single outlet two hundred yards away leading down a corridor. The direct rays of the Sun shone through the Gate and struck the farthermost wall just to the right of that distant portal yawning darkly at the remote end of the chamber, that corridor which led down into the interior of Kraggen-cor. In rapid file, the Squad hastened across the room-the Easi Hall-keeping to the south side and out of the direct sunlight so that their own shadows were not cast down the far passageway to betray them.
The Dwarves looked around in wonder, for at last they had come into their ancient homeland. Perry saw little, for he was busy counting paces, and when they reached the distant outlet and the broad road that led down toward the Great Deep, he was relieved to find that his measure reasonably agreed with that of Brega's of long ago.
They entered the corridor and sidled along the south wall, which was deepest in shadow. The farther they went, the darker it got, but their eyes adjusted to the dim light reaching down the passageway. Down a gentle slope they crept, another furlong or so, stepping quietly, down from Gate Level toward First Neath. And the light continued to fade as they went, but ahead there began to glimmer the dim flicker of far-off torchlight. The Seven edged to the limit of the corridor and paused ere creeping out upon a landing at the top of a short flight of wide stairs; the steps led down to the Broad Shelf.
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