Without preamble, the first catapult was loaded, aligned, and released. Two hundred pounds of stone whistled through the air and crashed into the wall's battlements. Where it hit, stone shards flew and a dozen dwarves fell.

"Clear the wall!" Derkin roared. "Everyone down! Use the wall for shelter!"

Dwarves scurried past Derkin and the Ten, streaming down the ramps as those in the pass behind closed in, massing themselves behind the wall. Another catapult stone smashed into the wall, just below the battlements, and broke into a dozen pieces. Where it had struck was only a shallow dent, and Derkin thanked the gods for his people's habit of building sturdy structures. The catapults could punish the reinforced wall, but they would not tear it down.

Archers had positioned themselves between the siege engines, and now arrows flew around the few dwarves remaining atop the wall. Most flew past harmlessly, and some shattered against the stone, but several had to be deflected with shields. "Get down!" Tap Tolec begged Derkin. "It's you they're aiming at!"

"To rust with them," Derkin snapped. "Look, there beyond that second engine. It's Lord Kane himself!" Grabbing a crossbow from one of the Ten, he drew it, fitted a metal bolt into its slot, aimed carefully, and fired. A horseman directly behind the Prince of Klanath fell, pierced through the throat.

"I missed," Derkin rasped. "Give me another…"

"Hammerhand!" Tap Tolec roared. "Look out!" But it was too late. A huge stone, propelled by a catapult, whined over the wall, directly into the little cluster of dwarves there. The last thing Derkin Hammerhand saw was a flash of hurtling stone, and then only darkness.

Among the attackers, Sakar Kane raised his fist. "There," he shouted. "Their leader is dead! Now kill the rest!"

Captain Morden squinted at the wall, then turned. 'They are protected, Sire," he said. "Our stones bounce off that structure."

"Then raise your line of fire!" Kane snapped. "Aim for the sky, above the wall. Let the stones fly high and fall on those behind."

"Aye, Sire," Morden grinned. "That should do it."

"When we've dropped enough rocks on them," the Prince of Klanath added, "send footmen with grapples. I don't want a living dwarf left when we're finished here."

Cold winds sang through the valleys, low clouds hid the rising peaks, and spitting snow had begun to dust the marchers on the Stoneforge trail when those in the rear of the great caravan heard running hoofbeats overtaking them. A single rider came into sight around a precipitous bend, and those who had turned to look saw the colors of Hammerhand's personal guard, the Ten.

Within a moment Tap Tolec was among them, almost falling as he dropped from the saddle of an exhausted horse. A crude sling held his right arm close against his armored breast, and the right side of his face was crusted with dried blood.

"Where's Vin?" he demanded. "Send word ahead to Vin the Shadow!" As drums spoke and runners hurried forward, the First of the Ten staggered and sat down on the hard ground.

A few minutes later Vin was beside him, mask pushed up and large eyes bright with concern. "Tap," he said. "What is it? What's happened?"

"The truce was a trick," Tap told him, his voice thin with anger. "You hadn't been gone half a day when Lord Kane attacked with his entire garrison. They used siege engines… catapults. We didn't have a chance."

"And Derkin? Is Derkin…?"

"Turn your column," Tap rasped. "We're going back

A Time for Reprisal

In asnow-dusted mountain glade nine miles south of Tharkas, fourteen dwarves huddled around a little fire, sharing blankets from the day packs of three horses that stood head-low and exhausted a few yards away. Some of the dwarves had wounds, which others worked to bind the wounds with bits of torn fabric, snippets of leather, and tree bark.

Helta Graywood, her left cheek covered with a plaster of moss and mud, sat on a stone beside the fire, bathing Derkin Hammerhand's brow and right temple with a moist rag. His head rested on her lap. Nearby lay his polished helm, its right template scarred and dented. Grazed by a two-hundred-pound stone from a catapult, the old helmet-of long-ago Hylar craftsmanship-had saved his life, though he had only recently regained consciousness after several hours of nothingness. Now, as Helta bathed the crusted blood from his head, Talon Oakbeard-Third of the Ten-knelt beside him, talking in a low, tired voice.

"It was Helta who saved you," Talon said. "Most of us were knocked off the wall by that stone. We were all stunned, I guess. I think I was crawling around trying to see who else was alive and trying to remember what had happened. And there were people everywhere, all packed together, close behind the wall. Then I heard somebody say that you were dead, and all of a sudden Helta was there, with another woman. They were pushing people aside, and I saw your red cloak. Tap Tolec came and helped them. I started toward you, too, but just then a catapult stone fell from the sky. It brushed Tap, knocked him aside, and fell right on top of the woman with Helta."

Pain slitting his eyes, Derkin looked up at the girl's face. A huge tear welled from her eye, disappearing into the mud poultice on her cheek. "Nadeen," she said. "The stone fell and crushed her."

"Then more stones fell," Talon muttered. "The humans must have lofted their shots nearly straight up. Those stones began falling like rain, and there was no protection from them. I remember…" He sniffed, his voice breaking, then cleared his throat and went on. "Everybody was trying to hug the wall, climbing over one another. I was helping Tap get to his feet when I looked around, and there you were, fifty yards up the pass. Helta had you by one arm. She was dragging you, pulling you away from the raining stones. It was…" His voice broke again. "We went after you, Tap and I, and Brass Darkwood. Brass didn't make it. A few others followed, and some of us got saddles onto a few horses. We all climbed on… we could hear the stones still falling behind us. All those people… but there was nothing we could do. Nothing but try to get away."

"How many got away?" Derkin asked, his voice a harsh rasp.

"Those you see here," Talon said, stifling a sob of anger. "Just us, and Tap. We bound his arm, then he took one of the horses and went to catch up with Vin and the rest. He's probably found them by now."

"Just these?" Derkin whispered, looking around. "Only these escaped?"

"No one else." Talon shook his head miserably. "We were just beyond the cedars when I heard the stoning let up. I hung back for a minute to see. Those… those men came over that wall like a flood. Then they drew swords and began killing everyone who was still moving."

Derkin looked around the little camp again, his eyes stricken with grief. "Only these," he whispered. "All the Red-and-Grays… and Nadeen and… and Calan Silver-toe? What of Calan?"

"A stone," Helta said. "I saw it hit him."

"And you…?" Derkin looked up at her, then reached up and eased back the mud poultice with gentle fingers. He winced and eased it back into place. Something, maybe a shard of stone-had left its mark on Helta Gray-wood. The prettiest girl Derkin had ever seen would never again be beautiful. The hideous, torn wound across her little cheek would leave an ugly scar for the rest of her life.

"Lord Kane," Derkin whispered. "Lord Kane betrayed his pledge."

Sounds came on the wind then-the sounds of thousands of marching dwarves. A few minutes later Vin the Shadow and Tap Tolec were kneeling beside Derkin, deep concern in their eyes.