One of those sparks made swift contact with the fuse of the largest demolition charge, which led to a huge cask full of black powder. The powder exploded in a searing flash, blowing the entire middle arch of the bridge-not to mention the cackling hobgoblin and several dozen draconians-into tiny bits and pieces.
A column of fire spewed straight into the air, shrouded by smoke. A moment later the huge sound of the blast, a single, startling boom, swept over New Compound. The noise echoed off the cliff walls over and over.
And even before the noise faded and the dust settled, Dram knew that their only retreat from New Compound had been cut off. They must stay there and die.
Or they could desperately seek hiding places in the mines with their children.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Selinda didn’t yield to her despair until Lame Hale left her alone, after once more tying her securely. She had never felt so alone, so overpowered and completely helpless. Hale could do whatever he wanted with her, and no one would know. The dam of her emotions burst, and she sobbed until her heart was drained.
At some point she drifted off to sleep, though it was an uncomfortable rest, and she felt constrained by the bonds on her wrists and ankles, tormented by dreams of an unimaginable fate. Sometimes her tormentor was Lame Hale; sometimes it was her husband or father. She was by turns drugged, bound, or imprisoned, but always compelled to move in some direction she didn’t want to go.
When she awakened, she had no idea how much time had passed. She felt better somehow, and her mind was clearer. She found she could think more clearly, though that was little comfort as her only thoughts were questions. Why was Hale doing this? What was to be her fate?
She was frightened but had regained some equilibrium when the door to the room opened and Lame Hale entered. Perhaps she would learn something, though what she learned might be better not to know.
Her captor brought a waterskin and, limping over to the bed, held it up so she could sip some liquid. She lifted her head then fell back and glared at him. She spoke through the fuzz in her mouth.
“Is this water? Or is it another dose of your Red Lotus?”
Hale chuckled, a cold and unpleasant sound. “This is just water. The lotus is far too precious to waste on one who is already a captive.” He looked oddly thoughtful. “I have already been paid very well, but I have to maintain my profit margin.”
Reluctant and distrustful but overwhelmed by thirst, she took a few sips of the water. Insofar as she could make it out, the taste was pure, and though she distrusted Lame Hale, the water felt good.
For the moment it seemed as though Lame Hale were concerned primarily with business. In fact, he suddenly sounded a lot like her father-more concerned with making steel than with her emotional needs.
“We have a schedule to maintain, and I must deliver you on time. Your ship is sailing on the evening tide,” he informed her, speaking as if he were reading from a bill of lading. “You will be taken aboard at the last moment, under careful guard. And you should know that if you raise any sort of alarm, the captain would much rather throw you overboard than have to explain your presence to the authorities.”
“Where is the ship going?” she asked, heart sinking.
“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough. Don’t worry yourself about things you can’t do anything about. My mother always told me that,” he said cheerfully. “Some of the best advice I’ve ever received.”
“I’m surprised to hear you even had a mother,” Selinda retorted. “Which plane of the Abyss did she come from?”
The man blinked as though he were offended and she felt a momentary glimmer of satisfaction.
“That’s enough talking,” he snapped, getting to his feet. “It’s time for you to go to sleep!”
“No!” she protested. Sleep was the farthest thing from her mind.
Yet even as she spoke, the word came out slurred, thickened by her clumsy tongue. What was happening? Her eyes flashed to the waterskin then saw the gloating on Lame Hale’s face.
“You… you drugged… drugged…!” She couldn’t even finish the accusing sentence before darkness claimed her again.
Even as the debris from the blown bridge continued to rain down from the sky, splashing into the water, Dram realized the near-hopelessness of their situation. The only path of retreat for the dwarves was gone; if they tried to run through the woods and cross the stream lower down, the ogres could chase them down and slaughter them with ease.
The ogres who had been charging around the lake once again started forward, while the closer wave of attackers-which included the half-giant Ankhar-crowded the road into town. With the enemy closing in on New Compound from two directions, the defenders had only one choice, one place where at least they could hold out for a while-the same place where the elders and children had gone to seek shelter before the battle.
Glancing up the valley at the heights looming over the town, Dram saw the three mine entrances gaping darkly from the mountainside. Each was a large, square hole with a steep approach; a few stout dwarves might be able to hold the gap indefinitely.
“To the mines!” Dram bellowed, waving his arms. He was gratified when dozens of dwarves, hearing him, echoed the call.
“Flee up the ridge and into the shafts! We’ll make our stand at each entrance!”
The cry spread. The dwarves moved as one away from the town, racing up the many steep paths leading to the nearest belt of mine tunnels, carved into the ridge looming directly over New Compound. The healthy helped the wounded, while some of the steadiest warriors-including Dram and, to his chagrin, Sally-fought a desperate rearguard battle against pursuing ogres.
Dram and Sally stood side by side on one narrow trail. They pounded their axe and hammer down into the faces of the few ogres who tried to climb up. One of the brutes tumbled back down the mountain, his face split by Dram’s blade; another dropped like a felled ox when Sally’s hammer connected with his skull. Their ogre companions held back for a moment, but when Dram charged toward them in a frenzy, swinging his axe through vicious circles, their pursuers decided that it would be better to go back down and loot the town rather than chase the crazy dwarves into their holes.
Fortunately, the plunder spread and the pursuit waned-no ogre wanted to leave the best booty to his companions-and the fleeing dwarves quickly scrambled higher and higher. Soon the first of them were filing into the mines, the rest queuing up outside each of the three tunnels.
Gradually the entire surviving population of the town disappeared into the mines nearest to New Compound. The first to enter continued to move deep into the mountains, while the last of them gathered at the tunnel mouths, ready to make a stand. Weapons at the ready, Dram and Sally took their places with a few other sentinels at the mouth of the central mine; other warriors were posted at the mouths of the mines to their right and left.
Their positions were strong; even if attacked, only one ogre could enter a mine at a time, and with two or three dwarves in his path, the defenders should be able to hold for a long time.
And the mine shafts, Dram well knew, were more than a mile deep. They were stocked with many casks of fresh water and a smaller amount of nonperishable food. If the ogres quickly sacked the town and moved on, they might just manage to survive.
“Oh, come in, Melissa,” said Coryn, answering her front door herself because Rupert was running errands in the market. “It’s been too long!”
“Thanks for seeing me,” said the young high priestess.
“Sure. Come up to the laboratory. I am making a potion and need to keep an eye on the temperature.”