by Tom McGowen
Then he smiled, causing a host of tiny creases to appear at the corner of each blue eye. “I perceive that you are concerned over your appearance. You need not be. We judge a craftsman by what he does, not how he looks. Still, it is an easy matter to have you shaven and shorn and fitted with suitable raiment if this will make you more comfortable.” He spoke a few words to the officer who was standing behind the little group. The dwarf came forward and touched Simon’s shoulder. Somewhat uncertainly, the physicist followed him from the room.
“Now,” said Gwedhedda abruptly, “what is your plan?”
“You know of Urlug?” asked Merlin in reply.
The dwarf’s face grew grim, and his lips became a thin line. “We do.”
“Well my plan is simply to gather all the warriors you can muster and march at once to the Mountain of the Demonbane, so that we may reach it before sunset tonight.”
“So soon?” exclaimed Gwedhedda.
“It must be!” Merlin’s eyes bored into those of the dwarf. “The demons have been loosed already. They attacked us at Maggie’s cave last night, and had it not been for the skill and wisdom of Simon, we would have been overcome. But we cannot risk another such encounter. We must carry the battle to Urlug. Our only hope is for our champion to reach him and smite him with the Sword of Power!”
Gwedhedda stared at the robot. “Can he really win through and do this thing?” he wondered.
“Only he can do it,” insisted Merlin. “When we move against Urlug, we will encounter not only his demon warriors, but his magic and his guile. I do not fear the spears of the demons or the magic of Urlug so much as I fear his ability to tempt and corrupt and ensnare. But MacHinery is a machine, Gwedhedda; he cannot be turned aside by temptations of any kind, nor by fear. He knows that his purpose is to destroy Urlug and he will let nothing stand in the way of that purpose . . . no temptation, no fear, no grief, no uncertainty. But Urlug knows nothing of this. And that is why we must attack now, lest he somehow learn that this man of metal is the thing he should fear most of all.”
The dwarf nodded and strode to the wall where he gave the tasseled bellpull a sharp tug. At the far end of the hall a silver-armored dwarf officer appeared and bowed.
“Muster the warriors,” said Gwedhedda. “We march within the hour.”
Chapter
15
The Mountain of the Demonbane rose out of a patch of pine forest that stretched bleakly away on all sides into the dusk. The sun had dropped from sight and the pale slice of moon spilled its sparse light onto a flat, horseshoe-shaped clearing. On the grayness of the mountainside that faced onto this clearing was a patch of velvet black that marked the entrance to a cave.
There was a great throng in the clearing and among the trees on the mountain. In row upon row stood the war band of the dwarves, three hundred strong. Once, before the history of mankind had even begun, their proud race could have mustered an army of thousands.
The animals of the forest had answered the call carried to them by the witch’s cat. Scores of bright-eyed foxes sat on their haunches with lolling tongues. Two dozen wildcats grumbled and sniffed suspiciously at the smell of the men present, but were ready to hurl themselves with terrifying ferocity upon any demon they might encounter.
No less than a hundred brownies were there, under the command of Angus. Tiny enough to be able to ride upon the foxes, like a man upon a horse, they carried needle-pointed dirks no more than a few inches in length.
In the center of this oddly assorted force stood Merlin, Maggie, the robot, the two Scotsmen, and Simon Smith. Simon was utterly transformed. The barber had merely clipped, combed, and trimmed until the physicist’s untidy tangle of beard, moustache, and hair had been neatly transformed in keeping with dwarf standards. A shoemaker, working with amazing speed, had produced a pair of soft leather boots which fit his feet more comfortably than any shoes he had ever worn. A tailor, with equal dexterity, had stitched together two dwarf cloaks to create a robelike garment which hung gracefully to the tops of the boots. When he had reappeared among his friends, there had been much jocular comment. Maggie told him he was ‘a handsome laddie;’ Sergeant Small observed that he looked like ‘an auld time Scottish lord;’ and the constable had likened him to the Lord Mayor of Edinburgh. Merlin had no comment, but merely stared at the physicist with deep intensity. And all during the march to the mountain, he had felt the wizard’s eyes upon him.
“Very well, let us be at it,” said Merlin. “Dwarves, light your torches.”
Down the line of dwarves there were snappings and showers of sparks as every third warrior applied flint and steel to resin-soaked tree branches. In ever increasing numbers, the torches flared upon the grim faces and silver armor of their bearers, until finally, a long line of flickering points of light wound down the mountainside and into the forest.
Merlin turned to the small silver figure beside him. “MacHinery,” the wizard said in a low voice, “the sole purpose of the journey we are now to begin is to bring you within reach of Urlug, so that you may smite him with that sword. I can not tell you how he will appear. He may take his usual form, which is a great, curling smokelike cloud. He may appear as an ordinary demon. He may even take the shape of one of us—me or Simon or a dwarf. But I think you will know him by his actions. If you are attacked by anyone or anything, you must fight to continue on your way. If anyone, even Simon or I, should order you to stop, you must ignore the order, for it will be a trick. You must reach Urlug and strike him with the sword. That is your purpose!”
“I understand and will comply,” the robot replied in his usual impassive tone. He was neither frightened, nor excited, nor even concerned. He was a machine.
“Come then,” said Merlin, and headed toward the black maw in the side of the cliff. Simon walked beside him, and with measured tread, the robot came behind, the witch hobbling by his side with her cat, and Small and Wier at the rear. The animals flocked about them, and with rustlings and clankings of weapons and armor, the dwarves and brownies followed.
To the humans, black inky shadows seemed to flicker and flee before them, as the wavering torches moved through the opening and into the cave; but to Sir MacHinery and the animals, the inside of the cave was fully visible. The tiny army was entering a rapidly widening tunnel. For several minutes, marked by sounds which rang hollowly in the muffling stillness, they moved through the small cavern. Then the passage began to grow narrower until it came to a dead end. A few feet from the blank wall was a rectangular opening in the floor, which reached into blackness so intense that it seemed almost solid. A draft of cool air poured up from it.
They halted, crowding together in the narrow space. Gwedhedda came forward and stood staring at the opening with somber eyes. “So this is Demonbane, the door that opens to the bottom of the world,” he mused. “Often have I heard of it in the legends of my people, but never did I think to look into it.”
“It was sealed with great magic and opened with great magic,” said Merlin, grimly. “Urlug’s.” Taking a torch from the nearest dwarf, he stooped and held it over the opening. The flickering light revealed a portion of stone stairway leading steeply down into the darkness.
“There may be a thousand demons waitin’ doon there to jump us,” observed Sergeant Major Small. “Why don’t I just spray a clip doon those stairs and see what happens?” He patted his Sten gun.
“That’ll make a heck of a racket,” objected Simon. “I think we should move as quietly as possible for as long as we can.”
“I agree,” said Merlin. “Urlug will be aware of our presence all too soon. Let us send the foxes forward. They are small and can move silently. If there is an ambush ahead, they can warn us.”
Maggie spoke a few soft words and the foxes slipped lithely and quietly into the opening. The army waited silently until a fox head emerged from the opening and emitted a series of soft yaps. “The way is clear for as far as they can see,” interpreted Maggie.
“Torchbearers
,” commanded Gwedhedda, and several dozen dwarves came forward holding blazing brands, accompanied by other dwarves with drawn bows and arrows nocked and ready. In small groups, one torchbearer and two archers in each, they wordlessly moved through the portal and down the steps. “First company of axmen,” said Gwedhedda, and fifty dwarves with their gleaming two-headed axes at the ready, followed, accompanied by a small number of torchbearers. “I think the wildcats should go next,” said Gwedhedda, “then we and the sword bearer, and behind us, the rest of the army.”
“I agree,” said the wizard, “but I think it most important that we have someone stay here on guard, to keep the opening free. Urlug may send demons to block it off, so we had best leave a sizeable force. Angus, you and your brownies remain here and guard the portal.”
Old Angus looked sharply at the wizard. “I want a word wi’ ye in private, Great Merlin,” he announced. His tone was distinctly pugnacious. The wizard stepped aside and bent his head.
“Ye canna fool me,” hissed the old brownie angrily. “Ye’re simply tryin’ to keep us oot o’ the battle!”
The magician looked the tiny man squarely in the face. “You are absolutely right,” he admitted. “I know your brownie warriors have great courage, but face the facts, Angus—you are less than a quarter the size of a demon, and those tiny dirks of yours would have no more effect than a pin prick. Angus, you brownies have done more than your share in this matter by finding Sir MacHinery. Besides, we really do need a force here to guard the opening.”
Angus hitched up his belt, morosely. “I canna deny what ye say,” he admitted, bitterly. “They’ll stay here then. But I go along wi’ ye. And ye canna stop me. Even if ye say no, I’ll just sneak along behind. I’ve been in this from the beginnin’, and I’ll see it through to the end!”
Merlin smiled, “I will not say no to you, Chieftain of the Brownies,” he said respectfully. “And I speak the truth when I say that I welcome your presence with us.”
Much mollified, Angus swaggered back to the portal. “I’m goin’ on wi’ the others,” he told his warriors. “But ye must stay here and guard the door. If we be successful, we’d best find it still open when we return. Gowrie, ye’re in command. No matter what happens, hold on here and keep this portal free.”
With looks of resignation, frowns of chagrin, and a few expressions of relief, the brownies stood and watched as the army filed past them, through the portal Demonbane, down the stone stairway, into the darkness of the underground world of the demons.
Chapter
16
The army found itself moving down a steep, rough-hewn stairway that was closed in on both sides by irregular rock walls. To Sir MacHinery time meant nothing, but to the others it soon seemed as though they had been trudging down endless stairs in endless darkness for hours. Glancing back, they could see the portal through which they had come, glowing in the light of the torches held by the brownies left on guard. Each time they looked back, the glow seemed smaller and higher until at last it was nothing more than a pinpoint of light. Finally, it could no longer be seen at all. Still they moved downward.
When the torches had burned nearly two-thirds of their length, Gwedhedda called for a halt in a hoarse whisper that was passed along from front to rear. From their belts, the torchbearers drew new lengths of resin-smeared wood, and used their guttering brands to ignite these. As new flames flared, the old torches were dropped and ground out against the stone steps. Then the army again resumed its descent.
After another long length of time had passed, Simon touched Merlin’s shoulder. Far below, ahead of them, the torches were fanning out, no longer moving in a single file. “That must be the end of the stairway,” he muttered. “It must lead into a cavern.” The magician grunted in assent.
In five minutes more, they too had reached the foot of the stairs. Behind them the dwarves moved down off the steps and formed long ranks. The masses of torches coming together revealed a great cavern, studded with stalactites and stalagmites, the walls and ceiling of which were so far apart that they were well outside the torches glow and hidden in darkness. Cautiously, the army began to move forward once again and, after another long period of time had elapsed, Simon again touched Merlin’s shoulder and pointed. Ahead of them, the torches of the advance party had halted and were clustered together.
“MacHinery,” said Simon, knowing that the robots vision both in darkness and for distance was amazingly sharp, “can you tell what’s going on up there?”
“They have come to the entrance of a tunnel,” replied the robot.
“Why do they not enter it?” wondered Gwedhedda.
“The foxes have entered,” said Sir MacHinery. “I surmise that the dwarves await to see if all is safe.”
“Let us continue forward,” suggested Merlin.
Almost as he spoke, dozens of foxes came racing out of the tunnel and clustered about the witch and Bathsheba. There was a staccato of soft yipping barks. Maggie turned to the others. “The tunnel is short, wi’ two bends in it,” she said, “and it opens onto another big cavern. The foxes say there be a force o’ many demons lyin’ in wait for us at the tunnel’s end.”
They plan to surprise us as we emerge into the cavern, eh,” said the wizard. “Well, I think we shall surprise them, instead. This is work for the wildcats. They can move silently and fall suddenly upon the demons Gwedhedda, have your dwarves follow closely, and when we hear the sound of the wildcats attacking, your axmen can rush forward and help.”
“What aboot me?” asked Sergeant Major Small eagerly.
“I want to keep those fearsome weapons of yours a secret for a while,” replied Merlin. “We may have need of other surprises. Maggie, tell the cats what they must do.”
Maggie spoke a few words in the tongue of the animals to a lean wildcat. It grunted, and suddenly hundreds of shapes sprang swiftly and silently into the tunnel.
“After them, quickly,” Gwedhedda hissed to his dwarves. “Move as silently as you can.”
Hefting their axes, the dwarves poured into the tunnel. As they rounded the first bend, there was a sudden chorus of terrified shrieks, mingled with yelps and snarls from the tunnel’s end. “Forward!” yelled the Dwarf Chieftain, and his war band pelted into action. Merlin, Simon, and the others hurried after them. There were more shouts and screams from ahead.
At the tunnel’s end, where it opened out onto a large cavern, there was a scene of carnage. A force of demons, nearly a thousand strong, had been drawn up silently, ready to charge the intruders the instant the torches of the dwarves appeared. But instead, hundreds of snarling, wildcats had come rushing out of the darkness and leaped, rending and tearing into the demon ranks. An instant later the three hundred dwarves had poured into the fray. The bulk of the demons had fled instantly in wild panic; the few who stayed to fight were pulled down by the wildcats or dispatched by the axes of the dwarves. More than a hundred of the misshapen creatures lay dead, bloody and mangled. Only three wildcats had been killed, so sudden and surprising had been their onslaught.
“I think Urlug expected an easy and perhaps final victory here, but the victory is ours,” said Merlin, viewing the dead demons with grim satisfaction. “Maggie, tell the animals that they have done well.”
“This is easier than I thought,” observed Gwedhedda complacently. “At this rate, we’ll have this nest cleaned out in no time.”
“No!” said Merlin sharply. “You have seen nothing yet. Urlug made a mistake, as I hoped he might, but now he will begin to rely more upon magic and guile than ordinary warfare. This was only a skirmish, Chieftain. Much worse lies ahead, you may be sure.”
He had no more than finished, when there appeared at the far end of the cavern, from wall to wall and ceiling to floor, a single sheet of roaring flame, over a hundred feet in height. In horror, Simon saw that it was moving across the floor toward the army.
Silhouetted against the glare, running in terror from this, their greatest fear and enemy, cam
e the tiny shapes of the fox scouts. They streaked past and through the lines of the dwarf soldiers. In an instant they were joined by the wildcats, rushing in blind panic through the tunnel from which they had just come; their one thought to reach the stairs and flee into the open. Infected by their panic, many of the dwarves began to surge backward with yells of fright.
“Wait!” shouted Merlin in an agonized voice. “I can stop it!”
He threw up his arms and shouted out a string of unintelligible words. There was a great peal of what sounded like thunder, and suddenly a driving, torrential downpour of rain rushed against the wall of fire. There was a tremendous hiss, a cloud of steam boiled up whitely and the fire was gone.
The shaken army began to reform, the dwarves talking nervously and excitedly among themselves. Merlin sat down crosslegged upon the stone floor and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his robe. “The second battle goes to Urlug,” he said bitterly. “At one blow he has deprived us of our animal scouts and fighters.”
“What will we do now without the foxes to tell us what lies ahead?” questioned Gwedhedda in a worried voice.
“MacHinery can see as well and as far in the dark as any animal,” Simon told him. “Send a few torchbearers and archers ahead a short distance. We’ll follow their torches, and if MacHinery sees any danger to them, we can quickly call them back.”
Gwedhedda gathered a few dozen warriors together. “Stay in groups of five—one torchbearer, two archers, two axmen,” he told them. “Keep intervals of about fifty paces between each group, and stay no more than a hundred paces ahead of us. And listen well, lest the robot call you back suddenly.”
The groups moved forward, and when they were some hundred paces ahead, the remainder of the force followed cautiously.