Thus far, however, the Pathfinder had been unable to locate a cave mouth. The hilltop was fairly smooth, and though, because of the crude wall, he couldn't see all of the enclosed area, Kagonos had begun to form a suspicion. In the center of the fortified clearing rose a small cairn of boulders, no taller than an ogre. The top of the pile had been smoothed into a platform, suitable for a lookout to see over the walls, but during the time the elf watched, no ogre had climbed onto that cairn for so much as a glance at their surroundings. It seemed to him, then, that the boulders had been piled there for some other purpose.
A purpose such as concealing the mouth of an underground hiding place. The more he thought about it, the more convinced Kagonos became that this cairn marked the place where he would find the Bluestone-after, of course, the Elderwild entered the crater, crossed the lake, climbed the hill, and breached the ogres' impromptu wall.
He heard the sounds of climbers only as Dall came into sight below. Quickly the young elf rejoined his brother, creeping to the edge of the crater, while a file of warriors advanced behind him. Another wild elf crept forward, and Kagonos nodded to Barcalla, chief of the Silvertrout tribe. Each of the Elderwild warriors bore a pair of skis strapped to his back, with both hands free to hold weapons. Kyrill would take longer to reach his position across the crater, but he, too, should soon be getting into position.
"They don't look like they're expecting trouble," Dall whispered. The young elf's voice trembled with excitement, and his hand shook as it clutched the slender steel sword that, today, he would use for the first time in anger.
Dall's face, like his brother's, was painted in the charcoal black stain favored by the tribe as war paint. Since this was his first battle, the younger elf's skin was marked by circles of black, instead of the winding, spiraled ram's horns that denoted the more experienced braves. Dall, like Kagonos, bore the insignia of an oak leaf design enclosing his left eye. This was their family sign, unrelated to any of the tribal symbols.
"Ogres never look alert," Kagonos replied, "but they react very quickly when trouble shows its face."
"I know," replied the younger elf, eager to demonstrate his readiness for this battle.
Kagonos sighed, wishing there were another way- futilely cursing the necessity that brought even the voungest males of the tribe into the battle. But there was no alternative. If they won this battle, the Elderwild could live in peace and flourish. If they lost, and the blue dragons remained free to terrorize Krynn, the end of the wild elves would be an inevitable and probably imminent development.
"Is Kyrill over there? Is he ready yet?"
"Patience, my brother. Kyrill will signal us when he's in position."
Kagonos allowed his eyes to drift upward, away from the snowswept island in its vast bowl of snow, until his gaze swept across the rock-fanged ridge on the opposite side of the frozen lake. Though the Pathfinder could see no sign of movement, he knew that Kyrill must by now be leading his detachment of warriors through those rocks. Moving invisibly among the snow-draped crags, the Elderwild across the mountain would be nearing their starting positions. Kagonos studied the small saddle, marked by a distinct pillar of rock, where Kyrill was to signal his readiness. He saw no sign of the elf yet, but Kagonos forced himself to be patient. He knew that his brother wouldn't make him wait much ionger.
The high, steep ridges encircled the lake almost completely-only the narrow notch broke the crest at one point, plunging into a canyon where the stream of the lake's outflow passed toward the plains. Now that waterway, like the lake itself, was frozen. Several ogres stood sentry duty in the foot of the gorge, diligently observed by Elderwild warriors who remained out of sight among the rocks above.
The snow on the rugged heights, on the other hand, showed no sign of drawing ogre curiosity. Many trees dotted the crater's slopes, and deep drifts of powder rendered the ground into a deceptively smooth incline. Hopefully, the snow would provide the means for a quick and startling attack by the elven braves. Certainly the soft powder made it difficult for the lumbering monsters to get around, but their carelessness still astounded Kagonos. Surely they were aware that the Elderwild could travel here?
Perhaps they were too busy worrying about Silvanos, he reflected. That must be it: why would they worry about a few hundred savage elves-elves who didn't wear armor of metal, who shunned horses and lances and the steel- coiled longbows of their city-dwelling kin-when faced with the threat of an entire, well-disciplined army marching along the fringe of the mountains? The wild elves would take grim satisfaction in proving them wrong.
Kagonos's eyes swept back to the camp, where the work on the wall had ceased altogether, though the barrier remained irregular and slipshod. Most of the ogres relaxed under the afternoon sun or bickered and gambled in small groups.
"There it is!" hissed Dall. The younger elf pointed across the basin to the opposite ridge, and Kagonos saw it, too: a glimmer of silver, as Kyrill reached the saddle on the opposite rim and flashed his blade in the sun.
Kagonos threw back his head, lips taut as he put the spiraling horn to his mouth. He blew a harsh, strident blast that carried clearly to the ears of all the elves-yet was virtually inaudible to the ogres, who heard merely a fresh ripple of mountain wind.
To the hundreds of Elderwild warriors waiting among the trees, the Ram's Horn sounded a clarion call to battle. Garbed in fur cloaks, wearing skis, the elves turned their feet downhill and began to move.
Kagonos led the warriors attacking from the south. Here the trees were dense, and he cut back and forth between them, rapidly gaining speed. The snow had melted even in the shade, making the initial maneuvering slow and clumsy. Soon, however, he slashed downward, the wind burning his face and stinging tears from his eyes while his increased speed allowed him to turn smoothly, gracefully to avoid the trees.
Silent except for the hissing passage of their skis, the elves glided down from the highest forests. The Pathfinder could hear them behind, knew that his warriors used every ounce of their skill as the descending onslaught continued to gain speed.
Kagonos stole a glance across the valley and saw a rank of Elderwild come into view-Kyrill's northern attack swept downward precisely on time. The tree line was higher over there, but those elves had the shortest stretch of lake to cross before the ogre encampment.
The shriek of the eagle split the air, then resounded dozens of times over as the Elderwild of the northern rank raised their voices in the shrill war cry of their people. Kagonos held his breath-would the ogres react as he had hoped?
One of the brutish warriors roared an alarm, spotting Kyrill's elves sweeping downward. That small band of elves continued to shriek like furious birds of prey, crowing crude insults at their enemies or shouting valiant boasts of their own prowess. Ogres raced toward the sounds, quickly gathering at the north wall of their camp: o await the attack.
Now, however, skiing warriors came into view to the south as Kagonos led his own shrieking party-much larger than Kyrill's forty braves-toward the base of the steep slope. On the open snow he crouched for speed and balance, dimly aware that he had never traveled so fast. In the corner of his eye he saw an Elderwild break a ski on a hidden obstruction-the wild elf went down in a tumble of snow and flailing limbs. Risking a quick look behind, the Pathfinder saw that his warrior lay motionless at the end of his fall.
Now the skiers raced onto the frozen surface of the lake, rasping across the crusted snow at high speed. A few ogres scrambled back to the unprotected walls on the south, but most of the brutes still stood ready to face Kyrill's onslaught. The rising bulk of the island blocked Kagonos's view of his brother's band, but he knew that the northern attack must already be sweeping around the sloping hill. Kagonos quietly repeated his command, hoping Kyrill remembered-come here to join us! Don't storm the wall alone!