by T. H. Lain
Naull somehow grinned even as the gnolls' howling increased.
"What's taking so long?" Grawltak barked at Kark.
The older gnoll rounded up two more hapless villagers, a human girl and an old dwarf. They'd already burned the dwarf's beard away-gnolls hated dwarves as much as any of the "civilized" peoples-but they stopped short of killing him.
Maybe I'll use one of my mistress's favorite tortures, Grawltak thought, eying a wagon wheel and thinking of his black-armored leader. Crucifixion seems to impress the soft-skins.
He was about to order the girl stripped and tied to the wagon wheel when the door to the inn flew open. In it, behind what looked like half a broken table, stood a hulking figure. The dim light posed no problem for the gnoll's eyes, however. He saw clearly who it was, and he panted in pleasure.
"So, half-orc, you're coming out at last! I hope you still have what I've come so far to get! My mistress will be displeased if you've lost it."
From behind the table-shield, Krusk raised one hand and showed the oilskin packet. He took a step out of the doorway then stopped. A few of the gnolls moved forward, but he leaned back.
"Well, come on, half-orc!" Grawltak shouted. "What are you waiting for? Your friends have decided your fate. Come forward quickly, or I'll add this one's blood to the night's pool!"
Kark passed the human girl to Grawltak, and she sobbed as he threw her roughly to the ground.
"Let them go!" the half-orc called back, half question, half demand.
Hyenalike laughter answered him, but Grawltak stepped forward and barked for silence.
"Of course! They mean nothing to us. My mistress is impatient! I will not take my pleasures in this village if you surrender yourself. Who knows? If you cooperate, maybe you, too, will live. I don't blame you for trying to survive!"
Grawltak looked around the courtyard. He tried not to glance too long in the direction of the gnolls positioned closest to the inn. Each had two bottles of alchemist's fire. When they had the half-orc in tow and knew the burden he carried was theirs, they would splash the inn. The burning and the death would keep the soft-skins from pursuing.
"We'll take your weapons, but even those you might get back, if you cooperate!"
No barks of laughter answered Grawltak then. He could feel the tension in his pack. They were waiting for the kill.
The half-orc stepped forward. He kept the table in front of him as he moved across the porch, down the steps, and onto the courtyard grass. A few of the gnolls stepped forward into the light of the burning hay bales. Grawltak himself moved forward, with Kark beside him, but something made him pause.
It saved his life. The shutters of the upper story of the inn flew open and arrows shot out. Two struck the ground inches away from Grawltak's feet and others hit each of the gnolls moving toward Krusk. One of those gnolls collapsed with a howl, but the other pulled the shaft out of his leather armor and leaped forward, axe in hand.
The half-orc threw the table at the gnoll, and the unexpected attack caught the creature off-guard. As the humanoid leaped aside, Krusk swept out his own greataxe and brought it smashing down against the gnoll's shoulder. Swinging back, the whining creature managed a weak blow against Krusk's side.
The rest of the gnolls reacted quickly. Kark's archers loosed their arrows at the half-orc, but Krusk was partly shielded by the gnoll in front of him. Only one arrow struck its target, and it thudded harmlessly off the half-orc's chain shirt.
Grawltak howled in anger. The gnolls heard him and those with the alchemist's fire jumped out from their cover and made ready to throw.
As they waited for Grawltak's signal, the stable door exploded outward. A human woman in gleaming armor rode right over one of the fire-flask gnolls as she spurred her horse forward. Another rider followed her, this one a human man. His armor was darker and covered in spikes. Grawltak swept out his axe and with Kark at his side, charged to meet them.
But the soft-skins weren't yet out of surprises. Roaring out of the inn came three more humans. Three large men wielding motley weapons bore down on the gnolls. One buried a scythe in the head of the gnoll nearest Krusk while another threw himself at the second flask-carrier. The alchemist's fire fell from the startled gnoll's hands and exploded on the ground.
One gnoll remained poised to throw fire onto the inn's roof.
He threw it without waiting for Grawltak's bark, and it caught quickly. The right side of the inn's roof blazed.
Cursing, Grawltak snapped more orders reflexively, this time in his native tongue. He could not shout as loudly or as quickly in the awkward common speech, and he was too angry for that anyway. More gnolls dashed forward from their hiding places. Some fired flaming arrows at the inn while others attacked the soft-skins in the courtyard.
The riders didn't let the gnolls turn the tide against them that easily. The shining knight swept out her sword and hacked down the gnoll nearest her, then she spun her mount toward the next one, who was wrestling with a human on the ground. The gnoll rolled away from its big opponent in fear of the horse's hooves, and the knight just missed decapitating it with a sweeping blow. The gnoll yelped in pain as the sword glanced off its neck armor, then it bolted toward the shadows.
The other mounted human struggled to control his horse. The beast shied away from the gnolls and the fire, and it started bucking. The spike-armored human clung to its neck until it stopped rearing. As the frightened animal turned, however, Grawltak saw another human clinging to the man's back.
"Down!" Kark cried out, diving toward his pack-master.
A crossbow twanged and the bolt streaked toward Grawltak's surprised face. Kark reached him first and the bolt struck the old gnoll in the side. He howled in pain as he thrashed on the ground. Grawltak stood in amazement for a moment, then he shook himself and snarled.
The half-orc was almost within reach and swinging his axe in mighty strokes. Gnolls fell or fled before him, and those who fired their bows either missed or saw them strike Krusk's heavy mail with little effect. Grawltak looked up into the half-orc's face and saw a ferocity he'd never seen before. He backed away cautiously, guarding himself with his axe.
Even as the half-orc charged, however, the shining knight steered her mount to cut him off. Grawltak had a disturbing image of his mistress, then. He'd seen her ride that way, and he feared to face this soft-skin if she was anything like her.
"On, Krusk! Get on!" shouted the knight, her voice clear amidst the carnage. "Get up here now!"
Grawltak saw their plan: escape. Despite the ferocity of their attack, the soft-skins were still in a bad position. His gnolls were regrouping. They outnumbered the villagers and the fire was spreading quickly through the inn. If he could delay them, the battle could be a great triumph. With renewed nerve, he moved forward to attack the knight's horse.
The half-orc was having trouble mounting behind the knight. When he swung up onto the horse's back, he nearly dropped his axe, and something else did fall. Grawltak's eyes saw gold flash in the firelight and he stopped in shock. His mistress had explained to him in great detail exactly what he needed to capture from the half-orc. The packet on the ground before his feet bore the emblem she described.
The half-orc saw his prize lying in the dirt even as the knight spurred her horse. As Grawltak dodged the beast and lunged toward the packet, the half-orc actually tried to fall back out of the saddle. But the knight reached back and held him, screaming, "Krusk! Let it go! We must get out of here!"
The half-orc's wordless bellow ripped from his throat, but he could not escape the knight's steely grip.
Grawltak's guards jumped forward, swinging their axes at the knight and her steed. The gray horse leaped forward between them and rode away into the darkness. Grawltak snatched up the packet, and with one quick look to make sure his eyes had not deceived him, he stuffed it into his armor.
"Fall back!" he yelled. "Back!"
His voice was triumphant and his pack, though eager to slay the soft-sk
ins in the courtyard and make the humans pay for spilling gnoll blood, obeyed their leader. Grawltak snarled at two of his uninjured scouts, and they picked up the wounded Kark and fled into the darkness with Grawltak close behind.
Three dead gnolls and several wounded humans lay in the village square. The inn's roof blazed, but the fire looked worse than it was. The villagers in the top floor kept the fire from spreading to the interior of the structure, tossing flaming bundles of thatch out the windows as quickly as they could fall into the rooms. Early clutched his side and hobbled over to Ian, who emerged from the upper floor, limping painfully.
"Did they get away?" Early asked.
Ian nodded.
"I heard that paladin yell something. Did it work?"
Ian shrugged and answered, "I don't know. The gnolls are gone. That much worked." He looked into the darkness, but even his half-elf eyes couldn't see their former companions. "I hope they got away safely."
Alhandra and Krusk, Regdar and Naull rode hard and fast along the road through the village. Windlass stepped nimbly over the ruts and wagon tracks but the brown mare Regdar had selected from the stable nearly fell twice. Finally, he had to call to the paladin to rein up. They dismounted, Regdar breathing heavily.
"It worked! I can't believe it worked!" he panted breathlessly.
Naull grinned and patted him hard on the back. "Why not? It was your plan. Krusk, you were amazing!"
The half-orc grinned, his fangs and yellowed teeth showing in the moonlight. It was the first time any of them had seen him really smile, and the sight made Naull laugh out loud.
"Here," she said, pulling out her plain, oilskin packet and handing it to him. "Careful. I stuffed everything in there, but I don't know if the clasp will hold."
"What did you put in the other packet?" Alhandra asked.
She'd missed much of the preparations, having been too busy climbing out the inn's side window and into the stable to see how the rest of Regdar's plan came together.
"Just what I had in my own," she said. "A few papers, nothing really-" She smacked her forehead. "Damn! I left the letter from the village with our contract in it!" She looked at Regdar in dismay. "We won't get paid!"
The fighter laughed. "Don't worry about it. I've got most of the orcs' loot in my pack. Early and Ian already got their shares," he said. "Besides, Eoghan'll need the gold to fix his roof."
They looked off toward the village. It was too dark to see, but they took that as a good sign.
"It looks like they put the fire out," Regdar said.
"I hope the gnolls leave them alone."
Alhandra said, "I think they will. When they realize they don't have the key, or the map, or any of the rest of it, they'll be too busy trailing us to go back to the village."
"Now there's a hopeful thought," Naull said dryly.
"It is," Krusk agreed, no humor in his voice at all. He shook his axe back toward the scene of the fight. "It is."
The other three exchanged looks, then Regdar sighed and said, "Well, we'd better get moving before they have a chance to look at their prize. Gnolls move pretty fast when they're mad, and these will be madder than a troll at a barbecue."
No one disagreed.
The Canyon
"Isn't this where you just came from?" Naull asked as they entered the dark canyon.
She and Regdar still rode the horse they'd taken from the inn's stable, but Alhandra sat alone on Windlass. Krusk insisted he could keep up with them on foot, and it made sense to have him scout the path ahead. Naull couldn't see more than a dozen feet in front of her after an hour of riding, and it would only get worse.
She saw the barbarian's shaggy head move, but whether he was nodding or simply hopping over the stones, she couldn't tell. She sighed.
"Krusk, we can't see you," Alhandra reminded him.
They'd decided to do without torches. When the gnolls realized they'd been tricked and came after Krusk again, they would move more slowly if they were following a vague track than if they were following the distant light of burning torches. Regdar suggested they might dare lights once they reached the canyon's floor, but Naull wouldn't hold her breath.
"Yes," the half-orc grumbled.
Don't like to talk much, do you? Naull thought.
Still, she had questions that needed answers.
"So this is the way to the gate?" she asked.
A pause.
"Yes," the half-orc said again.
"Why didn't you just go there, then, instead of coming all the way north?"
The horse's hooves clacked and slid on the rock trail. Naull clutched Regdar's side to keep from spilling off their mount and onto the ground.
"Needed to find some help," Naull thought she heard, but Krusk's voice was faint.
"What was that?"
"He needed to find someone he could trust," Alhandra explained. "That's what he told me, back in the inn. He said he knows how to close the gate, but I don't think he can do it alone."
"He probably didn't want to lead the gnolls right to it, either, in the condition he was in," Regdar supplied.
That made sense. Naull started categorizing the rest of her questions, hoping Regdar or Alhandra would call a halt soon.
The party continued downward into the darkness. Eventually, Naull felt the ground under their horses' feet level off. The unfortunate animals still stumbled in the darkness, however, even Windlass, who seemed to have an uncanny ability to find the smoothest route.
"This is getting ridiculous, Regdar," Naull said. She could barely see their horse's head when she looked around the fighter's armored back. "Krusk may be able to see in the dark just fine, but the rest of us can't. Either light a torch or let's camp. I vote for the latter. I may have slept most of the day, but I'm exhausted. I'd like to prepare some spells tomorrow," she hinted strongly, "unless you think I can contribute to this little expedition with just my crossbow."
Regdar pulled up and Naull heard Alhandra do the same.
"That was a good shot back at the inn," Alhandra said from somewhere in the darkness. "It kept their leader off us until we could put on our little show."
Krusk grunted his agreement.
Despite herself, Naull felt her cheeks color at the praise.
"It was a lucky shot," she admitted. "I don't practice much with this thing, and Regdar can tell you some stories…"
But the fighter didn't say anything. Instead, he dismounted and Naull scrambled down as well. She heard Alhandra dismount.
"Krusk," Regdar said, "find us some shelter. Some place we can defend, if there's anything suitable nearby. Naull, you've got the supplies?"
Naull nodded, hefting the bag Lexi had hastily put together for them before they fled the inn.
They set up a small, cold camp under an overhang on the east side of the canyon. Moon-and starlight glimmered down to reflect dimly from the rift's floor, fifty or sixty feet below. It revealed no detail at all, only a barely discernible glimmer. Other than Krusk, the adventurers were nearly blind.
"Campfire?" Naull asked.
"No," Regdar responded. "We don't need one, anyway."
Shivering in the shadows, Naull wanted to disagree, but Regdar was right. Their packs were loaded with dried meat, bread, and a few blankets. They wouldn't starve or freeze.
"Aren't deserts supposed to be hot?" she asked.
"Not at night," replied Regdar. "Krusk, I can take the first watch. I'll wake you in a few hours, and then Alhandra can take over from you."
"Don't I get a turn?" Naull asked, pretending hurt.
"So you can complain about how your sleep-deprived mind can't accept the magic patterns? No. We're not spending more than eight hours here. You sleep the whole time, starting now."
"Yes sir!"
She grinned and leaned over to pat Regdar playfully on the cheek. He looked up at her and the warmth in his eyes made her blush.
Someday, she thought as she thanked Wee Jas for the darkness surrounding them, we might h
ave to talk about this. But we're partners now, she concluded, lying back on her blanket.
Grawltak panted eagerly as he held the packet in front of him. They fled northward from the village and found a stand of trees to welcome them. They discarded the torches and lanterns as they ran-always into a convenient haystack or shack, of course. The soft-skins wouldn't forget this night in a hurry! He drew out his disk-shaped amulet and spoke the words that invoked its power.
A whine from Kark stopped him. They'd carried the wounded lieutenant away from the inn. Three younger whelps were lost in the battle and another failed to keep up on the road. If he managed somehow to catch up, then they'd consider bringing him along too. Otherwise, he was bait for the softskins. But Kark…
"Draw the bolt-carefully!" Grawltak instructed one of the gnoll pups.
He shoved the disk back inside his armor but held the packet eagerly.
Gnolls seldom knew much about healing, unless they became the chosen of Yeenoghu. Grawltak shuddered again at the thought of the shamans his mistress employed. She followed Hextor, he knew, but at least one of her pet clerics was a follower of the gnoll god.
Kark writhed in pain. Blood stained his mottled fur. He was unconscious and looked as if he would live, but his body wouldn't let him rest. Grawltak's dark eyes studied the older gnoll carefully, then he reached a decision.
"Give him this," Grawltak snapped.
He pulled a dark flask from his belt pouch. One of the younger gnolls opened it and sniffed it, but at a growl from the leader, he stooped and poured it between Kark's open jaws. At first, it seemed the older gnoll might choke on the elixir, but he coughed and stopped writhing. In moments his breathing returned to normal. His dark eyes opened.
"Leader…" he said, sounding almost confused.
As uncharacteristic as Kark's sacrifice back at the inn had been, it was obvious Grawltak's generosity surprised the old gnoll.
It surprises me as well, the gnoll leader thought angrily. That's the second time I've saved you from death, though at least this time it was in return for your favor.
