Bodies were strewn everywhere across the cavern, and men and ogres stumbled and tripped as they frantically maneuvered over the increasingly tangled floor. Barq was scrambling to his feet to charge forward when Moreen grasped his wrist. Scowling, he froze as he saw Bruni pushed against the nearby wall. All three exchanged a look.
The massive ogre leader lunged after Kerrick, smashing the floor with the splintered end of his cudgel, just missing the elf. Kerrick saw the other three watching him, caught a signal from Barq, and retreated another half dozen steps. Still pursuing, the monster lumbered forward, the crevasse yawning a half step away to his left.
The trio charged forward in unison, making no sound except their feet scuffling across the floor. At the same time the ogre made a vicious sidearm slash, a blow that Kerrick ducked. The momentum of the swing left the monster overbalanced, staggering to the left to recover his footing.
Bruni and Moreen hit him in the right side, at the same time as Barq grasped the fellow’s bearskin cape and jerked the hulking creature toward the left. The chiefwoman punched as hard as she could, using the hilt of her blade to knock the brute in the side. One huge foot slipped from the rim of the deep pit, and the ogre seemed to remain suspended in a weightless dance for a moment.
He recovered with amazing nimbleness, squatting to regain balance, then planting the outward boot firmly on the lip of the crevasse. With a mighty shrug he tossed Bruni and Moreen off. The chiefwoman flailed with her sword, scraping the bulging arm before she sprawled roughly along the cavern floor.
Spinning, the ogre punched Barq One-Tooth in the face. The Highlander’s head jerked backward, and he staggered away, uttering a long mournful groan. Finally he fell onto his back, right at the edge of the crevasse, and lay still. Blood gushed from his nose.
Moreen also lay on her back, clutching her sword. She saw the monster loom overhead. That bestial face looked down at her, and the ogre hesitated. Slowly, it closed one eye-she had the strange impression that it was examining her eyepatch, mimicking her injury by blocking the view from one of its own eyes. In that instant of respite, she rolled to her side and bounced to her feet, backing against the cave wall opposite the crevasse.
She stumbled over a dead ogre, saw a knot of men-four or five of them-grappling with another of the brutish defenders. The whole seething tangle perched precariously on the lip of the crevasse, and toppled like a writhing creature. Screams and howls rose from the darkness, ogre and human voices mingling for shrill seconds before they terminated in brutal, violent smacks of flesh against stone.
Bruni knelt nearby, fumbling with her pack, pulling out the wrapped Axe of Gonnas. The big ogre glanced at her then looked deeper into the cave-clearly it was still concerned about the elusive elf. Kerrick crouched in the darkness, long sword extended. Barq hadn’t moved, and Moreen prayed that the brute wouldn’t notice the bleeding Highlander, since one shove would have been enough to send the man over the edge.
Finally, Bruni pulled the huge axe free. She tore away the leather shroud in a single gesture, then raised the weapon and twisted the hilt. The feeble light of the dying torch reflected on the golden blade, and the ogre’s eyes widened as it saw that sheen of pure metal. Bruni lifted the haft, and immediately flames sparkled into life, bright fire outlining the edge of the golden cutter. With an almost bestial roar the big woman charged forward, swinging the weapon. With the impetus of her blow the flames erupted into a roaring ball of fire, rushing straight toward the ogre’s head.
Those huge eyes remained widened, more in awe than fear, Moreen thought. The monster uttered a surprisingly plaintive moan as Bruni lunged closer, the fire searing the shaggy breast of the ogre’s cloak, but instead of retreating the creature reached out a hand as if he would grab that fire, that golden blade, draw it close, and crush it. Bruni pressed the attack, jabbing with the fiery blade, and at last the brute took a step back.
There was no floor behind him. The human woman maintained the thrust of her assault, and this time the ogre was too far gone to recover his balance. He swatted a great fist toward the head of the golden axe, missing by several feet as Bruni pulled the blade out of the way.
The ogre toppled into the darkness and was gone.
13
Stariz sat on the floor of the temple, a film of sweat damp on her brow. She was trembling, breathing heavily, trying to reconstruct the fragments of an unsettling vision, a sweeping experience of godly power that had left her drained and unconscious on the floor. Anxiously she stood on the smooth obsidian surface, casting a spell that brought light to the sconces posted on both sides of the great chamber.
“What is it, O Willful Master?” she murmured. Her mind was bright with an image of gleaming gold, an immaculate and sacred expanse. She recognized the memory: the Axe of Gonnas, the cherished talisman that she had lost more than eight years ago. It was a burden of guilt that bore heavily upon her conscience, even to this day. She had felt that loss anew when she had dreamed about the axe two weeks ago.
Why would she see this vision now, again, and in such a vivid fashion? It was as if … perhaps it was not lost forever.
Now she could really believe that the Axe of Gonnas was near. Whatever the means of its transport, it called to her, and not from terribly far away. Someone was bringing it to her, carrying it into Winterheim.
Where, once again, it would belong to the high priestess and queen.
Strongwind waited in his alcove for longer than two hours, but nobody came out of the Lady Thraid’s apartment. Finally, the two guards ambled past, chortling in private amusement over some crude joke. They did not see the Highlander, and he waited until they had turned the corner before he emerged.
The man looked at the exit, the only exit, from the courtyard. He had been posted where he would have seen anyone coming or going from here, and his vigilance had never waned. No one except those two guards had passed while he watched and waited.
He advanced to the door and knocked tentatively. A short time later, Wandcourt opened the door, and Strongwind entered without comment.
“So there you are,” Brinda said, coming out of the kitchen.
“What is that? Did Whalebone come in?” Thraid called from the bedroom.
“Yes, my lady!” Brinda said, with startling urgency. “I will put him to work cleaning up the supper mess.”
“Let me see him,” Thraid said. The door to her sleeping chamber opened, and the ogress emerged.
Strongwind glanced up and froze a mental image in his startled mind, then quickly looked away so that he would not be perceived as staring. The truth was plain in the smearing of the lady’s lip gloss and fact that her dressing gown hung wide open across her otherwise naked body.
Clearly the ogress had just engaged in a tryst with her lover. The presence of the royal guards seemed to confirm the rumor he had heard from Black Mike, that Thraid’s paramour was none other than the king himself. The final detail was proved by his watch over the only known approach to this place. He wasn’t sure what he could do with such information, but he knew it was valuable.
For now he knew beyond any doubt that there must be a secret passage connecting Lady Thraid’s new apartment to the royal quarters of Winterheim.
“Will my lord king be eating dinner in the royal apartment tonight?” asked Stariz solicitously.