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Of course. That was what he needed, a gorthling. With a gorthling in his control to enhance his power, he could still use his magic to sweep away the Tarns and save his people. But, by the gods, how could be get one of those creatures out of Gormoth to help him here in the mortal realm? Would a gorthling’s enhancement be effective outside of Ealgoden?

Valorian had no answers to his questions yet, and very little time left to learn them. His small force was being cut to pieces, and Tyrranis was closing in on him. Only two warriors stood between himself and the general, who was fighting ferociously to reach him.

Valorian made up his mind then and there. He had little left to lose at that point, and for good or ill, he was going to try it. He turned Hunnul away from the edge of the fighting to a small clear space in the center of the beleaguered ring. “Pull in, pull in!” he yelled to his men. “Fall back and stand by me!”

His cry went rapidly through the rear guard, and as fast as they could, the clanspeople obeyed. Some were still on horseback, some were on foot, and some were being held up by their friends. In all, there were only about half of the one hundred still alive. Together they formed a tight knot around their lord chieftain. The Tarns dosed in after them.

Valorian realized he didn’t have the strength to maintain a magic shield around his small force while he strove to capture a gorthling, but he could give them some shelter. Delving into the last of his strength, he focused his spell down into the ground to the rock beneath the soil.

Suddenly the earth began to rumble in a ring around the Clan warriors. The combatants paused in the midst of their fighting; the Tarns looked about nervously and began to back away. Only Tyrranis did not move. He was reaching for his protective amulet when all at once huge slabs of stone erupted through the ground at his horse’s feet. The animal staggered backward out of the way. There was the sound of a great rending crash, and the slabs came together to form a circular wall higher than a man on horseback around the clansmen and their horses. A larger, opaque slab of rock rose higher than the rest and came down over the top with a thundering boom, forming a roof that would protect the men inside from the Tarns’ arrows and spears.

A stunned silence fell over the battleground. The Tarns stared at the stone fortification in amazement and confusion.

Only General Tyrranis was not surprised. He was furious. “You cannot escape, clansman!” he shrieked. “You have just built your own tomb!” Then he turned to his men. “You have assaulted defenses bigger and stronger than this. Tear that thing apart—with your hands if you have to!” The soldiers hesitated, then reluctantly moved in toward the stone edifice.

Inside the round stone building, the clansmen were staring at the walls in equal amazement. “What is this?” one man’ murmured.

Valorian heard him and lifted his head to look at the men clustered around him. They were all weary, sweat-soaked, filthy with dirt and spattered blood. Several were wounded, and one man died even as his two friends laid him down to help him. Some of the riders were dismounting to calm their nervous horses.

The light glimmering through the opaque ceiling was dim with a strange yellow tint that cast a sickly hue over every man’s face. The air was warm and growing stuffy with the smell of sweat and blood, but a slight breeze and some light were able to leak through the cracks between the slabs.

A harsh voice broke the silence. “Lord Valorian, what do you expect us to do now, set up camp?” It was Karez, snide as always.

Valorian ignored his tone and slid off Hunnul to the ground. His legs nearly buckled under him because he was so tired, and he had to catch Hunnul’s mane to keep himself upright. “I’m going to summon help,” he said hoarsely, “and I need time to do it.”

“Time!” one of the warriors cried. “We have no time. Didn’t you see the legion? They’re going to slaughter the Clan! We have to stop them.”

“We will stop them. But we are no good to our families dead. ”

“And they are no good to us dead!” Karez said belligerently. “You brought us to this disaster with your talk of escaping the Tarns. Well, they caught us anyway. Now what are you going to do?”

Valorian stifled the urge to weld Karez’s tongue permanently to the roof of his mouth and said as calmly as he could, “I will do what I have to do. Now, be quiet! The rest of you keep a watch through those gaps in the stone.  

The men and boys looked at one another uneasily, then did as he asked. The chieftain had brought them this far, farther than many believed they would ever get. Perhaps he could still save them.

Valorian went to stand beside the man who had just died. The man’s two friends were still beside him, wiping the dirt from his face and laying his sword by his side. One man had tears in his eyes. The chieftain sagged to the ground and sat cross-legged beside the dead warrior. He had known the man for years and keenly felt his loss. “The Harbingers will be coming soon,” he said softly.

The man’s friends glanced at him askance at the mention of Harbingers, but they didn’t move away.

Without a word being spoken, Hunnul came to stand behind Valorian, his long legs lightly supporting his master’s back.

“I need your strength, my friend. Will you stay with me?” Valorian asked the stallion quietly.

Gladly, Hunnul replied and lowered his muzzle until it rested gently on the man’s head. The clansmen around them watched curiously.

Although Valorian was still uncertain of what he was doing, he had an idea-the only idea he could think of. He prayed it would work, because he was certain he wouldn’t have enough strength left to try anything else.

He pulled off his gold armband and set it on his knee in easy reach, leaned back against Hunnul’s front legs, and closed his eyes. He felt the magic begin to gather within him. The sounds of the world around him gradually faded to silence as his mind ranged outward to touch the stallion’s being. Because of their earlier meld, his thoughts found Hunnul’s very quickly and merged perfectly into the horse’s consciousness.

Valorian felt Hunnul’s vast strength surge through him as hot and vivid as lightning. He realized, with a start of surprise, that traces of the lightning bolt’s power were still within his horse. He hadn’t noticed it before because he had been concentrating on Hunnul’s mind, but now as he drew energy from the stallion’s muscle, bone, and blood he could feel the crackling touch of the lightning sizzle through his every fiber.

Borne on the power of the black stallion, Valorian sent his consciousness questing out of his body to find the soul of the dead warrior beside him. He didn’t know what to expect by such an attempt, or if it was even possible to separate his mind from his body. Yet with the magic, it seemed to work. He felt himself become weightless and lose all sense of feeling as his conscious self stepped out of the mortal bonds of his body.

His eyes opened. It startled him to see his body sitting by the horse not more than two paces away, and for a moment, he was afraid he had performed his spell too well and perhaps separated his soul from his body. Then he noticed his chest was moving slightly in and out, and a small trickle of blood was flowing from a cut on his arm. He was still alive.

Elated, he looked about for the soul of the dead man at his side. The world he had entered looked much the same as when he was struck by lightning. The mortal realm was out of focus and bright with an unearthly diffused light. But unlike the time before, the world of the living was not vanishing before his eyes. Valorian soon found the dead man’s soul close by, confused, angry, and frightened. The chieftain knew those feelings well. He reached out to the dead man to reassure him and together they waited.