As the wizard followed the little warriors, Martine said, "I appreciate your offer, Jazrac, but do me a favor. Be careful out there."
Jazrac struck an attitude of mock pride, with one hand pressed to his chest. "Me? I shall be in no danger, my dear. I am still quite capable of taking on a few ignorant gnolls."
Martine had to smile at the wizard's display of confidence. "Just don't get carried away-for old friendship's sake, okay?"
"For… old friendship's sake." 'Me wizard savored the words like a Chessentian wine merchant before giving his grandest bow and departing. Martine wistfully watched him go up the passage: She was surprised to realize she still felt some respect for the man. After one last check of the storeroom, she, too, hurried up the passage.
Jazrac's spell had opened a route cleanly through to the outside, where the storm still raged, its fury unabated. The trampled path of the refugees was already half drifted over. Martine paused.
"Do we follow the others?" shouted Ojakangas, her second-in-command, pointing to the trail.
Martine shook her head. "Not yet. 'There's a rope in my pack. Get it out." She stooped to allow Ojakangas to reach inside and draw out the looped coils. Taking the rope, the ranger passed the length along to each warrior. "Hang on to it," she said, "so you don't get lost." With that, she drew her sword, ready for the fight she knew would come.
"I'll go ahead. When you feel a pull, follow me and stay close!" Without wasting any more precious seconds, she plunged into storm, feeding out line as she went.
Without skis, the Harper blundered through the snow, stumbling in the footprints made by those who had passed through previously. At last she reached the end of the rope and tugged to signal the others forward. After several minutes, the rest of the rear guard had all joined her. "Any sign of the gnolls?" she asked Ojakangas.
"None."
"The gods must still like us a little bit," the Harper said with a frozen grin.
"Indeed. Thanks be to the Great Crafter," answered the black-bearded Vani.
Three times the group repeated the procedure. Each time, Ojakangas reported no sign of pursuit. Then the storm stopped with eerie suddenness. At first Martine thought she had finally reached the blizzard's edge, but that wasn't it The storm had simply stopped.
"Our escape has been discovered!" Martine called to those behind her. "Come here and find cover!" The gnomes lumbered through the snow to join her. As each arrived, she silently pointed out a position to keep watch. Jazrac she kept close at hand. If the wizard didn't break again, his spells were her best asset.
"When this is over, you get yourself back to Shadowdale. Understand?" It was simply too much risk having the wizard out here fighting. They needed him to bring reinforcements.
Jazrac held up his hands. "Don't worry. I have no desire to do this more than once."
Hiss… thunk! An arrow tore at the sleeve of Martine's parka, spiraling madly into the thick trunk behind her. There it hummed angrily as the shaft quivered in the wood.
"Down!" she shouted, throwing her shoulder into her companion's side. She acted instinctively, with no thought
of the man's dignity. The pair flopped ludicrously into the snow.
"What in the hells-"
Hiss! Hiss! Several more shafts whipped overhead, right where they had been standing. One struck the same tree with a solid thwack, while the others clattered off into the branches beyond. A gout of snow kicked up as another arrow tunneled into the snowbank beside them.
In a twinkling, Martine tumbled off to one side. She saw Jazrac roll the other way, not a moment before the icy ground was churned by a fusillade of arrows. No more than twenty yards distant knelt three lanky gnolls, already drawing a bead on her.
Eschewing caution, the warrior woman sprang to her feet and charged the doglike archers, high-stepping through the snow as she screamed a war cry. With one hand, she whirled her sword over her head; in the other, her knife flashed in the dusky light. She heard the harsh music of a bowstring being released, but the shot went wide. The second and third fired, and Martine gave a start when an arrow hit her gut just below her sternum. The metal armor she wore saved her, glancing the rough forged arrowhead off to the side.
Her seeming invulnerability was enough to shatter the resolve of the gnolls. The lead archer threw down its bow and ran, bolting an instant before her sword swiped through the air where it had stood. The other two broke rank with barking yips of terror as the wildly howling woman descended upon them. The tip of her blade carved a long slash through the ragged cloak of one, but the creatures managed to escape. Her battle lust departed with them, leaving her feeling drained and bewildered.
There was a huffing behind her, and Martine nearly thrust her blade into Jazrac's stomach before she realized who it was. "Hold!" the man cried. "Save it for the gnolls!"
Pushing her aside, the wizard traced a figure in the air, and from his fingers leapt a series of sparkling motes of light. They rocketed toward the knolls, sizzling the air as they went. Two struck the nearest dog-man in the back, spewing out gouts of blood as if it had been struck by arrows. Two more struck the second, reeling it around in a circle, but the creature staggered on. The last dodged and darted through a stand of saplings to strike the third full in the face just as it turned to fire another shot. The beast howled and dropped its bow, fingers clutching blindly at its shattered muzzle.
"Jazrac, get back!" Martine blurted, her battle instincts alerted by the sound of sprinting footsteps through snow. In a single move, she spun to face a charging gnoll, little more than a shadow against the snow. With one arm, she thrust out in a long lunge while her body ducked low beneath the creature's high swing. Thwack! The dog-man's blade hewed into wood, hacking splinters from the tree trunk beside the wizard's head. The Harper's sword drove into the beast's chest, and the gnoll's momentum almost toppled her before the blade slithered through its ribs.
The gnoll's muzzle dropped open to show a fanged maw. There was a gurgling hiss as the flopping body slid down the length of her blade. Even impaled clear through, the creature wasn't finished. One scabrous arm, reeking like sewage, swung out awkwardly for her, clipping the woman in the side of her helmet. Thick claws gouged futilely at the metal.
With a quick flip of her other hand, the ranger slashed out with a dagger. She aimed high, just under the dogman's muzzle, and was rewarded when warmth soaked her sleeve and the gnoll's head lolled stupidly. Twisting, she let the creature fall. With one foot on its chest, she tried to pull her sword free, but the blade was stuck fast for the moment Even as Martine dispatched her foe, the others were
embroiled in battle. Though she held only a knife, Martine unhesitatingly threw herself at the nearest creature, a big brute who had cornered Jazrac. The wizard didn't stand a chance in close combat and had only managed to survive by dodging behind a tree trunk. Preoccupied with Jazrac, the dog-man was blindsided by Martine's rush. With a pushing stroke, she drew her blade across the beast's belly, slicing through layers of fur to the flesh beneath it The startled gnoll tipped back its wolfish head and howled in astonished pain, leaving itself wide open to attack. Before Martine could strike again, Jazrac lashed out with his dagger. His grip was awkward, and the wizard left himself wide open to a counterstrike, but it didn't matter. 'Me blade dug into the gnoll's chest, and the creature sank to its knees, gasping for life. Martine seized its helm and twisted its head back to deliver a quick coup de grace.
Swallowing, Martine stood a moment until her heart stopped pounding. Breaths of raw air burned her throat, but until the panic of the moment passed, gasping gulps of air were all she could manage. -
Almost as quickly as it began, the battle was over. 8y the time the two humans were able to join the gnomes, the Vani's skirmishes were ended. A quick assessment revealed three wounded, two minor and one serious one. He was a youth named Yannis, who had been hit in the gut by two arrows. That was bad enough, but worse still by Martine's estimation was the fact that at least one gnoll had gotten away. Already the baying of the hunters was closing through the wood.