Upon seeing Archlis, Fottergrim let out a bellow of rage. His boarlike tusks curved from his lower gums over the outer corners of his upper lip. "Traitor! Where have you been?"

Osteroric, seeing the supreme commander of the orcs confronting his master, gave a surprised squeak, sounding like a terrified mouse. The bugbear dropped his hold on Sanval and grabbed his brother, whispering something in Norimgic's ear. The two started backing away from Archlis.

"I bring you victory!" yelled the magelord, holding up the Moaning Diamond.

"Some little gem! You abandoned me for that! Look, look! We are under attack!" Fottergrim pointed to the fields clearly visible from the wall. The silk banners of the Thultyrl's army snapped in the breeze, and the beat of the cavalry drums could be heard on the wind. With a howl of rage, Fottergrim slapped Archlis, sending the Moaning Diamond rolling out of his hand, and screamed, "Use your magic. Set them on fire! Or I'll toss you down on the first man to reach the wall."

With a howl almost as loud as Fottergrim's, Archlis dived after his Moaning Diamond, snatched it up, and safely stowed it in his shirt. "You stupid orc!" he cried. "I almost lost it! Fire, fire, fire… Do you think that is all that I am capable of! Well, enjoy my talent!" He raised the Ankh and shouted a word of command. The bouncing sphere of fire that he had used so effectively against the hobgoblins suddenly appeared, spinning toward Fottergrim. The orc obviously knew the trick, because he picked up one of his lieutenants and used the frightened orc to knock the sphere over the edge of the wall. Tossing away his cringing minion, Fottergrim charged at Archlis with a great shout of rage. He grappled with the magelord, trying to tear the Ankh from his grasp.

Seeing Archlis and Fottergrim locked in each other's grasp, Ivy spun on her heel and ordered the Siegebreakers to run. As she passed Sanval, standing alone and free of the bugbear's clutches, she shouted, "Pick up your feet, man!"

She led them at full speed toward a round tower that anchored one end of the wall. Such towers usually had stairs leading to the guards' rooms and, with a little luck, a door to the outside.

"Come on," Ivy called. "We'll take this way out!"

She skittered to a halt. Out of the tower's doorway boiled fresh troops-big mean orcs with enormous double-bladed swords and huge warhammers. The orcs drove a troop of orange goblins before them. They were small, quick creatures, half the height of a human. Their bodies were twisted and gnarled, their limbs thin and powerful, and their fingers taloned. Their small faces were all features: wide mouths, huge slanted eyes, and wide flat noses. Large pointed ears grew up through their stiff tufts of hair. The goblins' armor was little more than torn bits of leather strapped together.

Ivy knew better than to underestimate these fighters who stood only waist high. They were small, yes, but cunning, and as pesky as wasps. Most were carrying modified goblin sticks, nicely sharpened to poke into any soft spot presented to them. A few were whirling rawhide whips to pull down their opponents and make it easier for the small fighters to overrun them. Or perhaps they just meant to use those long lariats on anyone storming over the walls. Such tactics often proved most effective in toppling siege ladders. However, once the orange goblins spotted Ivy and the Siegebreakers, they burst into squeals of their own language. Behind them the orcs screamed, urging the little fiends to fight.

"Oh blast," said Ivy, frantically waving behind her back at the others to retreat.

"Hey, lads, look what we found." Mumchance shifted in front of Ivy and called out to the orcs who led the charge. From both his hands dripped diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and other jewels that he had picked up in the crypt below. A few gems slipped between his blunt fingers and rattled on the stones. The orcs stared at the treasure in the same way that they would eye fresh meat. Beneath the overhang of their helmets, their little pig eyes blinked against the sparkling light of the jewels in the sun, and their mouths widened into ugly grins.

The orange goblins hung back, darting glances at Mumchance, at the gems, and at the orcs. Obviously, they would love to grab the riches, but they knew that the bigger orcs would quickly overrun them and snatch any treasure away. Fear of their masters warred with greed, and they set up a series of grunting cries, obviously arguing within their own group.

"A reward for Fottergrim's loyal troops," roared the dwarf, throwing the jewels at the feet of the largest orcs. Some even dropped their weapons to free their hands and extended their claws.

As the orcs grabbed for the jewels, Mumchance shouted the word that ignited the gem bomb that he had concealed among the hoard. It exploded, shooting out sparks and force. The orcs squealed and screamed, blown off their feet. They stumbled into each other, knocking a few off the wall. Their weapons and armor clattered as they crashed onto the walkway and tried to grab at any ledge and at each other. Those who managed to stay on the wall scrambled to their feet, howling their fury and snatching up their weapons.

Sparks flamed overhead. The orcs stopped, looked up, and bellowed. The explosion had set the wooden roof above the walkway on fire. The orcs turned and raced away, knocking each other over. Behind them, a group of hobgoblins coming out of the tower automatically raised their shields, and the orcs rushed into them, catching their outflung arms on the spikes. Blood and curses flew.

The small goblins leaped to the edge of the walkway, then pulled themselves up easily onto the roof. With one last phhtt of outstretched tongues at their former masters, the goblins dashed through the sparks, cutting back and forth, until they reached the stone corner tower. Silently they dropped down to the far walkway beyond the flames and fighting.

"I am going to miss that eye," Mumchance declared, rubbing his empty eye socket with his fist.

"Best time to use it. Could not have done it better," Ivy congratulated him, slapping him on the back. "Buy you another one out of the Thultyrl's payment!" Looking at the pile up of orcs and hobgoblins fighting in the doorway of the watchtower, Ivy swung around.

"Back, back," she yelled at the group.

Once again, going full speed, she passed Sanval, who looked slightly confused but was doggedly guarding the rear of their group. He spun around to follow her, now becoming the frontguard instead of the rearguard.

"Ivy, the roof is on fire!" Gunderal screamed a warning. Ivy looked up. The fire was keeping pace with them. The crude wooden roof was built to shelter archers from stones flung by siege engines. The wood had dried out under the hot summer sun and now burned beautifully. Big roof timbers were starting to sag, and the smaller boards were burning right through and dropping down on the walkway, with an occasional thud as the wood hit the helmet of some hobgoblin or orc below.

"That's the problem with crude holdings like this," Mumchance observed as he trotted at Ivy's side. He sidestepped to the left to avoid a couple of embers dropping from above. "Too easy to set on fire. A couple of well-placed flame arrows, or a nice little gem bomb, and, whoosh, your defenses go up in smoke."

"Let's discuss defensive strategy later," suggested Ivy. "Gunderal, can you put it out?"

The little wizard scanned the skies above them. A lone white cloud floated harmlessly overhead. "It won't be much," Gunderal said, "but I think I can wring a short burst of rain out of it."

"Well, do it, Sister, do it!" said Zuzzara, dodging a falling beam and leaping over the body of a stunned orc trapped beneath it.

Gunderal concentrated, giving out a series of complicated commands that almost sounded like bird calls. The cloud turned from white to black. There was a rumble of thunder somewhere far overhead.