“I think I see trouble,” she said in a low voice.

“You’re right,” Randall said cheerfully as he followed her gaze. Four large figures, each armed with a sword and a spear, were jogging toward them along the top of the bluff.

“Looks like a welcoming party,” the elf said grimly.

* * * * *

“The orb is nearly complete,” declared the Dowager Queen, looking down her nose at her son as though she expected him to quibble. “My guards tell me that the Alchemist needs only to seal the two halves with a bead of gold.”

“Good,” Grimwar snapped. “We can get out of this place and get on with the business of destroying Brackenrock. We leave today, and we take the orb with us!”

His mother and his wife glanced at each other in the fire-warmed study high within the fortress of Dracoheim. The king didn’t notice. He was standing at the window, gazing at the pale shimmering sun. More than two months of constant daylight had already passed this summer. It would be at only three more weeks, he knew, before the golden sun vanished for the duration of the year. His attention was sharply drawn back to the room by Stariz.

“Your mother has decided to return to Winterheim with us,” she announced.

The king wheeled in surprise, and after a moment he remembered his manners, forcing a smile.

“That is splendid news, indeed,” he said, with a dignified nod of his head. “I am glad you have decided to be more… flexible.”

Hanna snorted and glared at him, a look that he wished he could decipher. He flushed under the feeling that his mother could see right into his soul, could discern all of the emotions mingling there, emotions that right now centered around another ogress, far away from here.

“I am not pleased,” said the Dowager Queen-apparently she was reading his mind!-“that you have chosen to ignore my wishes in the matter of the harlot Thraid Dimmarkull. You know that she humiliated me and made your father behave like a fool!”

Grimwar drew himself up to his full, eight-foot-plus height. “I am the king now, and she has done nothing to me to call reproach down upon herself. I repeat: I shall not have her punished simply to soothe your need for vengeance.”

“I know this,” Hanna said sternly, “and yet I have decided to return in spite of your stubbornness. Your wife has convinced me that it is the gracious thing to do. I trust you will see that my dignity is not affronted.”

“Ahem. You will be welcomed in Winterheim as the Dowager Queen, of course. You shall have your choice of apartments in the Royal Quarter and will he treated with honor wherever you go in the city. These are my commands, and you know that I have long sought your return.” He crossed the room and took his mother’s hands. He looked her in the eyes and was able to speak sincerely. “I’m glad you are coming home, Mother. Truly.”

The elder ogress’s expression softened, and he felt a glimmer of affection, affection such as he had not known for decades. He searched for something else to say, but before any words came to him an alarm horn brayed through the halls.

Moments later there came a knock at the door, and Stariz yanked it open to reveal a breathless ogre dressed in the gold and scarlet of the royal guard.

“What is it?” barked the queen.

“Intruders, Your Majesties! Six of them landed on the northern shore of the island!”

“A sailboat! Was it a sailboat that brought them?” demanded the king.

“No, sire. Rather, the watchman said it was as though they rose out of the water, walked on waves at first, then came swimming ashore.”

“Bah,” declared Grimwar, waving his hand. “The watchman is an idiot! Such tales! They must have come by boat!”

“Surely,” Stariz agreed with the king, rather surprising him. “But where are they right now?”

“We… er, one of the wretches slipped away,” the guard stammered. “He was nothing-a gully dwarf it looked like, though his beard was a bit long. He headed west. The others are headed this way, toward the castle.”

“What is the nature of these intruders?” demanded the king. “Did you see an elf among them?”

“One is a human woman, Sire. That is plain. The others we took mostly to be men-though we weren’t close enough to see for certain. There was another one, too, who seemed to be a gully dwarf.”

“Five, and a gully dwarf? The elf is among them-he must be!” gasped Stariz, clapping a hand to her mouth and sagging into a large chair. She looked wide-eyed at Grimwar. “The Messenger is here. He has come at last, and some strange plan is afoot.”

“Find them!” screamed the king. “Find them and kill them all, at once, without mercy!”

22

Way of the Gully Dwarves

Kerrick crouched, watching Moreen dash over the rounded ridge. As soon as she disappeared from view he raced after her, staying low as he dived across the summit, rolling a few times down the grassy slope on the other side. The last of the companions to make the harrowing passage, he sprang to his feet quickly, looking anxiously around.

“I don’t think they saw us,” Randall observed. The Highlander was sprawled on the ground, spying through the narrow gap between a couple of square boulders.

“Nope, they’re not coming this way-they’re still moving along both sides of the creek down there,” he reported. “Their attention is focused on the valley floor. In a few minutes they’re bound to wonder what happened to us.”

No less than three ogre patrols were converging on the plateau above where the companions had come ashore. The first group to spot them had sent some kind of signal and summoned other comrades from their watch posts. The companions had just evaded at least a score of pursuers.

“Those rocks gave us good cover,” Moreen said. “We must have made it up the hill without being seen. When they meet up at the bottom of the other side, it’ll take them a while to figure out which way we’ve gone.

“What about Pneumo-did he get away?” asked the chiefwoman.

“I think so,” Randall said, still peering over the crest. “I lost track of him across that broken ground, but he seemed pretty certain about where he was going. I hope he’s already trading his pearls for the gold he needs. I’d bet he’ll be the first one of us back to the cove.”

“We’ve got to keep moving,” Strongwind Whalebone chipped in, “if we don’t want them to come up here, catch us out in the open, or at least pick up our trail.”

“Me hungry!” Divid declared, sitting down and crossing his arms. “No eats, no go to castle. We make swim, spit water out, and you say no eats. Now we do long climb, and still you say no eats. So me ask, when eats?”

“You’ve been very brave and smart, also, to lead us around this island,” the chiefwoman said gently. “As soon as we find a place to hide, you can have some eats. We’ll all stop for a rest.” She indicated the pack carried by Randall, containing several days’ worth of dried fish cakes, as well as two flasks of water. “Our friend is carrying plenty of eats.”

“Eats now, or no go to castle,” Divid repeated, glaring upward. “Stay right here. Yup!”

“No go to castle, and you end up stuck on an ogre spear,” Moreen said calmly. “Would you prefer that?”

The gully dwarf scowled, then frowned as he considered his options.

“Okey dokey, go to castle,” Divid decided, popping up to his feet. “This way.” He stopped and pointed at Moreen. “But you promise-then we eat!”

“I promise,” she agreed.

The little fellow led the elf and the three humans down the slope. They dashed across the grassy tundra, momentarily in full view of the castle before they dropped out of sight against the walls of a narrow ravine.

“Where does that valley go?” Kerrick asked, as they carefully made their way down a steep, rocky stretch of the ravine.