He thrust at two monsters with one swinging slash, and they both cowered away. Whatever held up the flight, Ash knew that it wasn't a sudden development of courage. Demoralized by surprise and the slaughter of so many of their fellows, the craven bakali sought only escape.

The ringing of steel clanged through the night, in a sound more brash than any light Kagonesti longsword.. Puzzled, Ash stepped back from the melee, struggling to hear.

From somewhere up ahead, bakali screamed in panic, and their terror was mingled with many a dying gurgle. That steel blade rang again, and the mob of lizardmen actually surged back, toward the weapons of the waiting Kagonesti.

"By the Oath and the Measure!" came a cry from the darkness, in a language barely recognizable to Ashtaway.

But he recognized the heavy, nasal tone-a human! A human stood in that ravine, blocking the flight of the terrified lizardmen.

Bakali crowded into the gully, clawing at each other, trying to hack and prod through the press. Behind them the Kagonesti closed in, blades slashing.

Perhaps there would be no escape for the hateful creatures, Ash thought with grim satisfaction. But it was knowledge underlaid by a deep and substantial fear-a fear triggered by this inexplicable arrival of a human.

Trotting along the top of the ravine now, Ashtaway struggled to penetrate the darkness with his keen eyes. Below him, dozens of bakali squirmed and struggled, some trying to press down the floor of the ravine while others scrambled, with equal vigor, to get back to the clearing in the vallenwoods. None of the lizardmen so much as tried to climb the rough, crumbling walls, though any wild elf could have scampered up and down in a dozen places.

Ash stepped with care as he worked along the upper edge of the ravine, knowing that a misplaced foot could send him sliding into the midst of the bakali. At the same time, he hurried as quickly as he dared, trying to imagine what he would find.

The terror of the fleeing lizardmen was an almost palpable force, rising out of the narrow ravine like a stinking cloud. Ash again heard the human's voice bellow amid the clanging of steel. The elf came around the bole of a large tree and saw him: a strapping fellow bearing a great sword in both hands, standing in the narrowest part of the ravine. Swinging the weapon through a dazzling series of slashes and parries, he completely blocked the escape route of the panicked lizardmen.

Now several of the bakali tried to scramble up the steep walls of the gorge, falling backward after they got a short distance above the ground. One made it far enough to snap at Ashtaway's foot, but the Kagonesti chopped downward with his axe and sent the monster tumbling into the press of its comrades.

Even through the darkness a flash of recognition struck Ash-something about the human's huge, golden-hafted sword seemed vaguely familiar. The man stood with unfaltering courage, shieldless, clutching the hilt of his weapon in white-knuckled fists. Sheer rock walls rose to the man's right and left, and the sweeps of that mighty sword came within inches of each cliff. A lizardman dove to his belly and tried to squirm past the knight. The creature died quickly, its heart pierced by a blow from above. Two more of the scaly humanoids hurled themselves at the lone fighter, but the man cut them down so quickly that the two stabs seemed almost simultaneous to Ash's astonished eyes.

Movement to the side caught the elf's attention, and he turned to see Faltath following him. The elven brave's longsword was streaked with bakali blood. Behind the inward spirals of his facial tattoos Faltath's eyes were alight with the glory of battle. Every Kagonesti brave knew that heady rush of battlefield energy, but somehow the appearance was magnified by the intensity of the sword-wielder's fury.

Ashtaway gestured silently as his villagemate joined him. The human swordsman continued to battle, though he stepped backward in the face of the lizardmen's relentless pressure. The ravine widened gradually as he retreated, and even that long-bladed sword would not long be able to block the passage.

"A human… he dies well," Faltath observed.

"Perhaps he shall not die," Ash suggested, watching the other Kagonesti.

Faltath snorted contemptuously. "Even if he kills a hundred bakali, a single Kagonesti arrow will see that he does not return to the plains."

Ashtaway nodded, not surprised by the reply. He was surprised, however, by a feeling within his own breast- an urge to help this human, to give him a chance to live. The notion was contradictory to everything in his life, and at first he couldn't explain it. Then he remembered.

"The wyrm of fire!" he whispered, shaking his head in awe. "I saw this same man stand before a red dragon, facing the creature with that sword. I thought he perished in the fireball."

There was no shred of doubt in his mind. The heavy sword had the same golden hilt, unique among the knights he'd seen, and this fellow fought with the same unbending stance, with identical fury and concentration. Ash vividly remembered the scene of the dragon attack, and tried to imagine how this man could have survived. Too, he felt his growing guilt over his failure to warn the knights of danger, and made a silent, grim promise that- for this man, at least-he would try to rectify that mistake.

"The dragon he killed-the beast fell on top of him before the other serpent breathed. Could it be that he was protected from the fire by that corpse? And that he then crawled free of the mire?"

Faltath's laugh was bitter and cold. "If he did, then he has already lived longer than any man has a right. Let him be content with that."

Suddenly Ashtaway needed to know more-what had the man done then? How had he come to the Bluelake? And why now did he risk his life in such a mad, pointless fight?

"He must not be killed!" he declared, ignoring the scowl of suspicion that darkened Faltath's features. "I'm going to help him!"

The bakali pressed against the walls to either side of the gorge. The knight held at bay those monsters directly before him, but now he had a hard time fully blocking the ravine. He was forced to step back quickly in order to protect his flanks-but each retreat carried him farther along the ever-widening channel.

Ashtaway skirted the rim of the ravine until he had passed the valiant knight. Picking a smooth patch of dirt for his landing, the elf sprang lightly to the floor of the gorge. He landed almost soundlessly, the din of the panicked lizardmen surely swallowing any slight noise-but the knight nevertheless whirled, bringing his sword around to meet the threat he had somehow sensed behind him.

Ignoring the threatening parry, the Kagonesti sprang toward the bakali and swiftly killed two with sure- handed strikes of his axe. Smiling grimly, the knight pivoted back to meet the scaly warriors. For long, bloody minutes the pair stood firm, blocking the channel with their courage and skill.

The rest of the tribe closed in on the rear of the fleeing horde, with many elves advancing along the tops of the ravine. These showered the lizardmen with arrows, logs, rocks, and anything else that came to hand.

Finally, crouching and tense, Ashtaway dimly realized that there was no one left to fight. The elf and the human knight looked around in amazement until their eyes met in frank appraisal.

The human, impatient in the way of his race, spoke first. "Thank you. I think the buggers would have had me there if you hadn't dropped in when you did."

Ash nodded, squinting as he concentrated on the words. The dialect was thick to his ears, but discernible- it was similar to the Qualinesti trading tongue that he had learned early in his life.

"You fellas put up quite a fight," the man continued, wiping his blade with a square of dirty cloth. He seemed uncomfortable by Ash's silence, as if it would soothe him to have the night filled with sounds. "Do you understand a word I'm saying?" he finally demanded, exasperated.