The Brega path tsc-2

by Dennis McKiernan

  Perry shouted in his glee. His friends were safe! But, wait… where was Ursor? As the battle receded before him, Perry made his way to the Grate Room and stepped in. The Warrow saw that two of the iron stone-wedges, tools carried for work on the gate, had been used to jam the door of the Room against the maggot-folk. Perry could see the corroded grille had been wrenched away from the square shaft, and the dark hole gaped at him; cautiously looking into it, he could see nought but the massive, rust-stained chain dropping down sheer, strait walls into the blackness below. Shuddering, Perry turned away and found Kian's and Shannon's backpacks. But of the Baeran, the room was empty of all sign. Fearing the worst, Perry scooped up the wedges and packs and stepped back into the corridor, to find Cotton searching for him.

  The engagement had ended, the Rucks had been slain or had fled, and the head of the column was forming up again when Rand, Kian, and Shannon finally came to where Perry and Cotton were waiting. Kian embraced both of the Warrows, and Shannon greeted Perry with a grin and a hug. "You came barely in time, Friend Perry," said the Elf. "We were just preparing to start down the dark square shaft to who-knows-where when you led the Drimma to our rescue."

  "Oh, but it wasn't me," protested Perry, "my good friend here, Cotton Buckleburr, was leading." Perry then introduced a self-conscious Cotton to Shannon; at first Cotton felt somehow clumsy and awkward in the presence of the lithe Elf, but Shannon's lighthearted.manner soon put the Waerling at his ease. "Lord Kian," asked Perry, his apprehension growing, "Ursor, where is Ursor?"

  A troubled look came over the Man's face. "We do not know where he is," answered Kian. "We fed the Spaunen on a desperate chase back to the underground river. When we got there, we debated whether to go on up the north passage or to swim under the wall and go through the Gargon's Lair and on to await the Host at the five corridors by the Grate Room. Ursor asked us to stand ready while he swam to see if the Yrm were gone from the cave leading to the Lair. He tied a rope to a boulder and let the swift current carry him under the wall. When he returned, he said all was black in the other cavern-those Rukha were no longer there. He had lashed the line securely on the far side, and he asked us to go ahead of him in the water. By this time the pursuing Yrm were nearly upon us. Shannon and I plunged in and pulled under to the opposite tunnel. Almost as soon as we got there, the rope went slack, and we hauled it in, and tied to the end were our backpacks. But Ursor never came. We tried to go back, but neither Shannon nor I was a powerful enough swimmer to battle back through the rush without the aid of the line, and we could not get to the other side to find him and aid him. We know not his fate, though 1 fear it was grim." Lord Kian stopped speaking, a pained look in his eyes.

  "We took a long rest," said Shannon after a moment, taking up the rest of their tale, "and then we made our way back through the Lost Prison, up the silveron delving, and finally through the tunnels to the Grate Room. Again we rested, this time in the upward middle corridor of the four eastern ways. But it was not our lot to idle our time away until the Drimm army arrived, for Rupt forces came at nearly one and the same time along all passageways, including the west one. We were revealed and fled into the Grate Room, where we drove wedges under the door to jam it shut. We indeed were about to try to escape down the shaft when we heard the ancient Chdkka shok! Chdkka cor! battle cry of the Drimma and were saved that perilous descent."

  Shannon fell silent, but before Perry or Cotton could ask any questions, Durek, Anval, and Bonn returned, and once more the march resumed, Bonn again in the lead, for the Legion now marched in passageways he had trodden before.

  The Host halted for a rest in the great Round Chamber. Patrols were maintained along the corridors, and Bane was posted in the center of the gallery as a ward for all to see. Perry fell instantly into slumber, for he was exhausted, having had no sleep since he had rested in the Gargon's Lair. Cotton, on the other hand, before settling down made certain that his friend Bomar was unhurt, for the Warrow had been deeply concerned ever since the Legion had marched past the Side Hall and the Spawn had attacked the rear guard. Bomar laughed and told Cotton it would take more than a Grg or two to do him and the cook-waggon crew in, and not to worry. Relieved, Cotton returned to where Perry slept and lay down nearby. Cotton, too, quickly went to sleep, and his and Perry's slumber was undisturbed.

  But all too soon it was time to move on; and so, after but six hours of respite, the Army again headed east along the Brega Path, Bonn still in the lead,

  As they marched, Cotton seemed withdrawn, as if bemused by some deep thought. Finally, when Perry sounded him out. Cotton grasped the Horn of Valon and held it for Perry to see and said, "Well, Sir, I mean, look here: ever since we've come into Kraggen-cor, the Horn of the Reach has… changed. It seems more polished, or, well, as if it were somehow shinier. I don't know what it is exactly that's different, but it seems to be, as it were, more… more alive!"

  Perry looked closely at the bugle, and he, too, sensed that it had changed. The metal appeared to have more depth, the racing figures seemed to have taken on greater dimension, the carven runes higher luster. Yet Perry could not say whether this silvery life was due to an actual change in the horn or, rather, a change in the way he himself viewed it. "Perhaps, Cotton, it only seems to glisten more because this cavern is dull and dark and provides great contrast to the shining silver; or perhaps it glimmers more because it now is illumed only by the light of Dwarf lanterns."

  As if in response to Perry's words, the bugle glinted and flashed in the blue-green phosphorescent glow; yet, deep within, it seemed to burn with a light of its own.

  "That may be, Sir," replied Cotton, looking with perplexed wonderment at the glittering metal, "but I think it's got more life because it's back to its home again, back to its birthing place, back to where it's meant to be."

  About the horn, Cotton said no more, and the buccen strode onward in silence, each deep in his own thoughts, as the Army pressed on through Kraggen-cor.

  The Host covered the remaining twenty miles in six hours, and they were attacked twice: The first time was a minor assault: arrows hissed at them out of the side passages of Broad Hall; Felor's companies rushed the corridors, and the maggot-folk scuttled away in the darkness, and the attack was over. The second time was a major engagement: a force of nearly four hundred maggot-folk had lain waiting in ambuscade in the Great Chamber; but Bane had alerted the Legion that Spawn were near, and the Army avoided the concealed assault and fell upon the enemy in fury, driving them out of die chamber. In both engagements, Dwarves died, though the number was small.

  The Legion then made its way along the two-mile detour around the wreckage of the Hall of the Gravenarch and then marched the final mile to come down at last to their chosen battleground: the vast Mustering Chamber, the War Hall of the First Neath.

  Dwarf lanterns were affixed to each of the ancient cressets, and the Hall was brightly lighted. Patrols were again posted in the corridors, and the Host was arrayed to meet Gnar's Swarm. But the Spaunen did not come. Dwarves were sent over the rope bridge to Quadmere to fetch its cool clear water, and the Army rested. Again Perry and Cotton slept.

  Upon awakening, both Warrows were well rested but famished. Unfortunately, the only food at hand was the crue Cotton had brought in his pack. And so they ate the tasteless waybread and drank water for their meal. Rested, with his stomach full, and in the spacious, bright Hail, Perry's spirits began to recover at last. He had washed his face clean of the face blackener, and had removed the shirt hiding his armor, now he was a resplendent silver warrior. And though he was troubled by Ursor's unknown fate, still he started joining in conversation with Cotton.

  Before he realized it, Perry began telling the other buccan all about the journey down the river, across the wold, and through the caverns. The words came tumbling out, his voice hesitating only when he painfully spoke of Barak's death and funeral, and of Delk felled by Ruck arrow in the Lair fire. When Perry fell silent at the end, his tale told, Cotton leaned
back in wonderment, his jewel-like green eyes wide. "Why, Mister Perry," declared Cotton, "you're the one that's had a real adventure, not me. That's the story you've been wanting to write; not my adventure, but yours."

  Perry shook his head in disagreement, for as it is with many a neophyte adventurer, his own story seems insignificant alongside others'. Cotton, seeing the self-doubt in Perry's eyes, then added, "Wull, maybe you just ought to write 'em both up, and we'll have a contest and vote on 'em, and then we'll see which one is the more adventuresome."

  Perry laughed outright at the absurdity of the suggestion, and Cotton joined him, and it was the first time mirth had visited either in a long, long while. Before they could say more, a Council of Captains was called, and the two Warrows were summoned to attend.

  As soon as all had gathered, Durek spoke: "Cruel Gnar seems too timid to bring his forces to face ours; and so we must draw him out. We must lure him into battle here in the great Mustering Chamber." Durek gestured at the mighty War Hall. This enormous gallery was more man two thousand Dwarf-strides long, and half that wide, its ceiling a hundred feet high. A fourfold row of huge delved pillars marched down its length, carven to resemble great Dragons coiling up fluted columns, each graven monster glaring in a different direction, some with stone flame or spew splashing against the roof. Along the walls were lesser sculptings of bears, eagles, owls, Wolves, and other creatures of rock perched on interior cornices, looking down from the high shadows cast by the hundreds upon hundreds of Dwarf-lanterns that brightly illuminated the Hall.

  "This chamber shall become the center of our forays into die passages to destroy the Squam," Durek rasped, then paused; but what he was going to say next shall forever remain a mystery, for it was at dial moment that Gnar announced that the Foul Folk were indeed coming to fight: A great rolling Doom! of a huge drum thundered into the cavern; so vast and loud was the beat that Perry's small frame shook in its echo.

  Boom! Doom! came the beats again, and the very stone itself seemed to rattle and sound with their call.

  Boom! Doom! Doom! The mighty vibrations caused rock dust to sift out of cracks and drift to the floor.

  "To your Squadrons! Array the Host!" shouted Durek. "Gnar comes at last!" And the Captains sprang to their feet and sped to their Companies.

  Boom! Doom! Perry's heart leapt in terror at the great booming sounds, and the blood drained from his face. Hold on, bucco, he thought, settle down. You know what that is: it's a great marching drum of a Rucken Horde-The Raven Book speaks of them. Perry looked at Cotton, and the other buccan's features were drawn, his lips pressed into a thin white line.

  Perry reached out and squeezed his comrade's hand, and Cotton cast Perry a fleeting smile from his stricken face.

  Boom! Boom! beat the great pulse, as if the mountain itself were being struck by a mighty hammer to ring in response. And then clamant, discordant hornblats sounded, and there came echoing horns from each of the passageways leading into the vast chamber, followed by a shattering volley of harsh clashing of scimitar and tulwar upon dhal and sipar.

  Boom! Doom!

  As foreplanned, the Dwarf Legion formed up in the center of the great floor, all warriors facing outward with axes and bucklers at the ready. On three sides of the Host stood the stone of the chamber walls, with many dark holes showing where passageways bored off into the black reaches of Drimmen-deeve. It was these portals that the elements of the Army watched, for through these ways would come Gnar's forces. On the fourth side was the Great Deep, and only a few of the Host looked thereupon, for it guarded the Army's back better than another Legion could. Across the floor from sidewall to sidewall and through the Host ran everal wide fissures-great cracks in the stone; here and there, huge slabs spanned the fissures, footbridges placed there ages agone by the Dwarven Folk.

  Doom! Boom!

  Both Perry and Cotton were too short to see over the warriors' heads, and so they mounted up on the base of one of the pillars and watched; Perry drew Bane, and Cotton the Atalar Blade, and Bane's flame was nearly bright enough to hurt the eyes, while the golden runes on the sword of Atala glinted in the phosphorescent glow of the Dwarf-lanterns.

  DOOM! DOOM! whelmed the vast pulse, and then fell silent. There was one more bray of horns, as one raucous blare was answered from all corridors by other blats. From afar the Host could hear the sound of running Rucken boots slapping against the stone. Louder and louder the footsteps sounded, until they became a veritable thunder of feet.

  And then Rucks began to issue into the Hall out of every corridor, every orifice, like black ants vomited from a thousand holes. And among the Rucks scuttled armored Hlok leaders. Still the maggot-folk poured through the portals and into the chamber. And they deployed themselves along the walls and around the Host.

  The Dwarves stood their ground in silence, though many faces were grim to see the awful flood of Squam. And then at last the Spawn were arrayed, and they shouted and clamored in a thunderous din, brandishing their weapons and threatening the Dwarves by making menacing swipes and swirls and starts. But though they raised a great outcry, they attacked not, for they were awaiting the coming of Gnar.

  And then he came; the supreme Man-sized Hlok came. Into the far end of the chamber he strode, and through the massed ranks of Rucks. When he reached the forefront of his Horde, he stopped and stood on widespread legs with his fists on his hips: cruel and proud, swart and yellow-eyed, armored in black scale mail and a high-peaked helm, and armed with a great long scimitar. And the shouting voices of his Swarm proclaimed him to the Dwarven Army. Gnar stood 'midst the clamorous roar; men he raised up a clenched fist, and the ranks of his Horde abruptly fell silent, as if.their very breath had been choked off. And Gnar laughed in the sudden stillness, for there were ten thousand Rucks to but four thousand Dwarves.

  "What slime comes into my kingdom?" Gnar bellowed in a great snarly voice across the distance that separated the two armies. "Who is the stupid fool leading this paltry group of foul-beards? Why have you of little wit blundered into my caverns?" And a great derisive shout went up from the Rucken Swarm, as if Gnar had somehow scored a victory with insults alone. Yet the Dwarves stood grim and silent, facing the gibing enemy, not responding, waiting for this noise to subside. At last Gnar again raised his fist, and once more the Horde's voice chopped shut.

  Still the Dwarf Legion stood fast; and when the cavernous echoing died, Durek spoke: He did not seem to raise his voice, yet he was plainly heard by all in the Hall: "I, the Seventh Durek, and mine Host have come to take back that which is rightfully ours. And we have come to avenge old wrongs and hurts. And more, we have come to stop your rape of the land around. But above all, we have come because you are Squam and we are ChSkka." And the Dwarf King fell silent, but with a deafening clap of axe on buckler and with a single great voice, the entire Army shouted once only: CHAKKA SHOK!

  At this thunderous call the Rucken Horde cringed, but seeing the Dwarves stand fast, blustered up again. Gnar glared at his craven Swarm and then turned to the Legion and laughed derisively. "Do you rabble truly expect to evict us? Look about you, imbeciles! You are doomed, for we are nearly thrice your numbers. Even so, we could conquer you weaklings with less, in fact, perhaps with but two of us." And Gnar turned and shouted, "Goth! Mog!"

  And as the Horde howled in evil glee, from the dark shadows of the end-cavern ponderously came two great, hulking creatures: nearly fourteen feet tall, swart, greenish, scaled, red-eyed, each monster clutching a massive iron pole in one thick hand, each brutish face filled with a vile, malignant leer. They were Cave Ogrus. They lumbered through the massed Rucken ranks to stand aflank of Gnar. And Gnar threw back his head and laughed cruelly.

  The Dwarf Army blenched, for even though there were a fell ten thousand Rucks surrounding them, til this moment the Dwarves had not truly felt fear. But now their eyes were drawn irresistibly to the great Cave Trolls, and the massive strength of rock-hard flesh seemed to spell doom, for they were an awful enemy. At last
Perry knew why Ogru-Trolls were so feared: they were direful behemoths of crushing power, and they looked unstoppable. Perry tried to remember the places of Ogru vulnerability, but his wit fled in his fright, and he could only recall that a sword thrust under the eyelid and into the brain would kill one.

  Holding up his fist to stop the jeering of his Swarm, Gnar sneered from between the massive Trolls, "I will give you but one chance to surrender, fools. All I ask in tribute are your inferior weapons and pitiable supplies, and eternal bondage as my groveling slaves." Raucous laughter swelled up from the Horde, and they jittered in 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.