The Brega path tsc-2

by Dennis McKiernan

  As they emerged into the Bottom Chamber, Perry sheathed Bane's light and led the way toward the arch over the stream. Swiftly they crossed the floor, passing over the bridge and beyond the running water. But before they could reach the west corridor, they saw light coming down the passageway toward them.

  Quickly the trio dived behind a low parapet of delved stone off to one side. A large company of Spawn loped into the Chamber. This is why ten Rucks were left behind: to meet this gang, thought Perry, and he watched them lope to the center of the Chamber and halt. "We got out just in time," the Warrow breathed to Bonn. "They've got the way we came stopped up like a cork in a bottle."

  As the three looked on, several of the notch-warding Rucks trotted out of the crevice and spoke with the newly arrived Hlok leader, but Perry and the Dwarves were too far away to hear what was being said. To the dismay of the three, however, the Hlok snarled orders, and Rucks jumped up and ran to guard each of the entrances and exits of the Bottom Chamber, including the west portal. Then runners were dispatched: one east, one west, and one south. "He sends messages to other Hroken leaders," hissed Anval. "No doubt, Gnar also will be informed as to the 'intruders' in this part of the caverns. Kruk! This will make it even more difficult for us to reach the Dusken Door."

  "How do we get past the guard at the west corridor without raising the alarm?" whispered Perry. Bonn touched his finger to his lips for quiet, and silently crawled off into the dimness.

  Perry and Anval watched the guard slouching against the wall beneath a torch lodged in an ancient lantern bracket on the delved wall, a bracket put there in elden times by the Dwarves. Minutes fled by and nothing happened. As the two watched, time seemed to stretch out endlessly, and the Warrow could see no sign of Bonn. Still they waited. Suddenly it seemed as if one of the shadows behind the guard detached itself from the wall and soundlessly engulfed the Ruck. Perry heard a quiet thump, and then Anval was pulling on the Warrow's arm and hissing, "Now!"

  Swiftly they flitted along the wall and into the corridor; Borin carried the dead Ruck over one shoulder, and hid the body at the first wall crevice. The three then fled down the passageway. Behind them, all was still; their escape had not been noted.

  The next four miles was a nightmare of hide and run. Repeatedly, the companions dived into crevices, notches, and side passages, to remain hidden as Hloks and Rucks came loping eastward. Many small squads and large companies passed by. Perry guessed-rightly-that the news of a few "intruders" had spread, and the Spawn were flocking to the sport of hunt and slaughter.

  At last the threesome approached a room called the Oval Chamber in the Brega Scroll. Once more the trio found the way blocked by maggotfolk, but Anva! motioned, Follow me, and taking an enormous gamble they began crawling from shadow to shadow along the north wall.

  At times they lay without moving for long minutes as one or more Rucks in the chamber came near. At other times they crawled swiftly from rock to pillar to crevice, only to find that again they had to remain motionless in the darkness with Spawn barring the way. Finally they came to the passage leading on toward Dusk-Door, and after a long wait they managed to slip out of the chamber and into the corridor.

  Though they met no maggot-folk, the three found the next few miles arduous, for there were cracks in the floor that yawned unexpectedly. Yet, one crevice that they came to was foreknown to Perry, and dreaded by him: it was the Drawing Dark, so named because of the awful sucking sound that could be heard in its lost depths, thought by the Deevewalkers to be a slurking whirl of water in an underground river at the bottom of the crack; but to Perry this explanation was of no comfort, for it sounded as if something below were alive and questing for victims.

  Although Perry had been expecting this rent-for it had been mentioned both in The Raven Book and in the Brega Scroll-still he found it difficult to summon up the courage to leap it, for it was fully eight feet across, and he could not banish the specter of being sucked down into the deep crack, drawn down into an unseen maw ravening in the black depths. But at last he took three running steps and sprang with all his might and cleared it by a good three feet.

  The trio pressed on for the Long Hall, and as they neared it. Bane's fire grew. Soon Perry sheathed the sword, for its flame was bright. Yet when they came to the chamber, they could see neither torchlight nor Spaunen. "Let us cross the floor quickly, before the Rucks arrive and block our way again," urged Perry, and they started across the Hall.

  As they reached midchamber they heard shouts and snarls, and looked around to see a company of maggot-folk issue out of a corridor behind them. The trio had been detected!

  "Fly!" cried Perry, and the three ran toward the west corridor; but as they approached they could see light reflected around a bend moving swiftly toward them from the passage ahead- Perry darted a look over his shoulder: the other exits were already cut off by the howling Spawn closing behind. Trapped!

  At a glance, Anval took in the situation. "The force before us is as yet unaware of us, and there may be only a few. Let us charge through if we can. If not, then we will slay many before we fall."

  Borin brandished his axe. "Chdkka shok! Chdkka cor!" he cried. Anval, too, gripped his double-bitted weapon and vented the ancient battle cry. Perry whipped out flaming Bane, determined to sell his life dearly.

  Forward they charged, running toward the oncoming force. Behind them the yawling Rucks pursued, weapons and armor clattering, boots slapping against stone. Ahead and toward them came the others, suddenly rounding a corner and bursting into view. And Perry's racing heart leapt to his throat, and he gave a great shout, for at the forefront of the oncoming force ran a small form in golden armor with a bright sword. It was Cotton! And Durek! And Rand! And four thousand others! The Dwarf Army was within the Halls of Kraggen-cor!

  CHAPTER 7

  INTO THE BLACK HOLE

  Three hours earlier, the Host had stood before the Dusk-Door, and Durek had said the words of power, and by moonlight and starshine and Dwarf lantern the theen tracery and runes and sigils had. appeared.

  Durek caught up his weapon by the helve and stepped back from the high portal; all that remained was for him to say the Wizard-word for "move," and the Door, if able, would open. The Dwarf turned to Cotton, Rand, and Felor. ''Stand ready,'' he warned, ' 'for we know not whom we meet.''

  Cotton gripped his sword and felt the great pressure of the moment rising inside him and he felt as if he needed to shout, but instead he thought, Let Mister Perry be at the Door and not no Ruck.

  Durek turned back to the Door and gripped his axe; he placed his free hand within the glittering rune-circle; then his voice rang out strongly as he spoke the Wizard-word of opening: "Gaard!"

  The glowing web of Wizard-metal flashed brightly, and then-as if being drawn back into Durek's hand-all the lines, sigils, and glyphs began to retract, fading in sparkles as they withdrew, until once again the dark granite was blank and stern. And Durek stepped back and away. And slowly the stone seemed to split in twain as two great doors appeared and soundlessly swung outward, arcing slowly, the black slot between them growing wider and wider, becoming a great ebon gape as the doors wheeled in silence, til at last they came to rest against the Great Loom.

  A dark opening yawned before the vanguard of the Legion, and they could see the beginnings of the West Hall receding into blackness; to the right a steep stairwell mounted up into the ebon shadows. And those in the fore of the Host-weapons gripped, thews tensed, hearts thudding, hackles up-stared with chary eyes at the empty darkness looming mutely before them.

  And they were astonished and baffled, for no one was there, neither friend nor foe, only silent dark stone!

  And of all those in the vanguard, only one did not seem rooted in place: "Mister Perry!" shouted Cotton, and before any could stop him, he sprang through the doorway and bolted up the stairs, holding his lantern high and calling as he ran: "Mister Perry! Mister Perry!" he cried, but his voice was answered only by mocking echoes: Mister�
� ister… Perry… erry… cry — — ister… erry… ery… y…

  "Cotton! Wait!" shouted Rand, breaking the grip of his bedazement. " 'Ware Spaunen.'" And he and Durek and Felor and the forefront of the Host leapt forward after the Warrow. And they could see the light of Cotton's lantern dashing up the steps far above them to disappear from sight over the top.

  "Fool!" Prince Rand cursed the Waerling's rashness, and sprang up the steps two at a time, his long shanks outdistancing the Dwarves behind. The steps were many, and soon he was breathing deeply, for the climb was strenuous; but in a trice he o'ertopped the last one. Ahead and around a bend he found Cotton at the first side passage, his lantern held high, peering through the arch and into the dark. Several swift strides brought the Prince to the Warrow's side. "Cotton," he gritted through clenched teeth, angered by the Waerling's thoughtless actions.

  "He… he's not here, Prince Rand," stammered the Warrow, turning in anguish to the Man. "Mister Perry's not here,"

  "Cotton, you are our only guide. The Yrm…" but ere Rand could say on, he saw that the Waerling was weeping quietly.

  "I know, Sir. I know," sobbed Cotton, miserably. "I've acted the fool, rushing in like I did, and all. But Mister Perry wasn't there, and I couldn't stand it. I just had to see, had to see for myself. But he's not here at all. He's not here; the Squad's not here; the Rucks are not here; nobody's here. But the Door opened. It opened!"

  There was a clatter of weaponry and a slap of boots and a jingle of armor as Durek and Felor and the vanguard of the Host topped the stairs and started forward, their sharp eyes sweeping the shadows.

  "As you say, Cotton, the Door opened," replied Rand, "yet no one met us. Mayhap the Squad was here, for the Door worked."

  "Wull, if they were here, where are they now?" Cotton demanded.

  "I know not," replied Rand, his voice grim. "Perhaps Spawn…" His words trailed off.

  "Spawn!" cried Cotton, bitterly, turning as Durek strode up.

  King Durek stood before the Warrow, an angry glim in his eyes. "Cotton," he gritted, "the fate of this quest lies in your hands, for where you lead, we must follow. Without you, we are lost. Henceforth, stay at hand where our axes may protect you; never again dash off into the dark alone." The Dwarf King's voice held the bite of command that brooked no disobedience, and the Waeran nodded meekly. "As to these empty halls," continued Durek, his flinty eyes sweeping the passage, "we can only press forward and hope to Find the Squad of Kraggen-cor safe, and not Grg-endangered, or worse."

  "Grg-endangered? Worse?" blurted out Cotton. Then his viridian eyes became fell and resolute. "Let's go," he said sternly. "We've got to find Mister Perry and the others."

  And at a nod from Durek, the Warrow went forth, with Rand at one side, Durek and Felor at the other, and four thousand axes behind. And along the Brega Path they strode.

  A mile went by, and another, and yet one more, and still they saw no sign of life, friendly or otherwise. Only dark splits and black fissures and delved tunnels did they see, boring off into the ebon depths. Through this shadowy maze, Cotton unerringly led. And the axes of the Dwarves stood ready, but no foe appeared. Another mile, and another, and still more; and time trod on silent feet at their side. An hour had passed, no, two, then a third; and swiftly they marched into the depths of Drimmen-deeve.

  Suddenly: "Hist.1" warned Felor, and held up his hand, and the command quickly passed back-chain and the Army ground to a silent halt.

  In the quiet they could hear the far-off yammering of many voices-yelling and howling-yet they could make out no words. Ahead in the curving tunnel they could see a glimmer of distant light dimly reflected around the bend.

  "They know not that we are here," hissed Durek. "Weapons ready! Forward!"

  And the Host moved swiftly, running now to catch the foe unaware and suddenly fall upon them. Forward they dashed, toward the Long Hall just ahead. And as they ran they could hear more shouts-battle cries, it seemed-their meaning lost in reverberating echoes. Ahead the light grew brighter as the oncoming force neared. And suddenly bursting into view came three forms running.

  CHAPTER 8

  THE SILVER CALL

  At first Cotton thought that these three figures plunging headlong at him and the Army were Rucks, for the faces of Perry, Anval, and Bonn were covered with blackener, and Perry's starsilver armor was hidden beneath his shirt; and,so this charging trio did not at all look like the friends and companions that Cotton had last seen by the Argon River. But as the three ran toward the vanguard, Cotton saw the flaming sword borne by the one and the Dwarf axes of the other two and the Dwarf-lanterns the trio carried, and by these tokens alone he knew that they were not Rucks. And suddenly mere came a voice he recognized, a voice calling his name: "Cotton! Cotton!"

  "It's Mister Perry!" cried Cotton, and he leapt forward, running to meet his master.

  "Mister Perry! Mister Perry!" he shouted and wept at one and the same time, for when the portals of Dusk-Door had silently swung outward and none of the Squad of Kraggen-cor had been waiting inside, Cotton had feared the worst. But he had led the Army along the Brega Path in spite of his fears. And here were Mister Perry and two Dwarves seven miles from the Door, alive after all.

  As the two Warrows ran together and embraced one another, Anval shouted, "King Durek, Squam pursue us! A hundred fly at our heels!"

  "Felor!" barked Durek, "Axes! Forward!" And the spearhead of the Host sprang around the curve and into the Long Hall.

  The onmshing maggot-folk wailed in dismay as hundreds of Dwarves issued into the chamber. Some Spawn stood and fought and died, some turned and ran and were overhauled from behind and felled, others escaped. The skirmish was over quickly, and the Dwarves were overwhelmingly victorious in this opening engagement of the War of Kraggen-cor.

  After the battle and before resuming the northeastward march, Durek called the trio to him; and Cotton for the first time saw that these two blackened Dwarves were actually Anva! and Bonn. Prince Rand and Felor joined the circle of the small council kneeling on the stone floor of Long Hall. "Tell me not your entire tale," Durek bade the three, "but for now speak of the Grg along the route before us; tell me of any problems with the Brega Path for which we must change our battle strategy; tell me where Prince Kian, Barak, Delk, and Tobin are; and finally, speak on any other thing of importance to our campaign that you think pertinent but about which I know not enough to ask."

  Anval spoke first: "As to the Grg, our suspicions were correct: there are great numbers of the vile enemy in Kraggen-cor, for often we had to hide or flee from large bands within the passageways and chambers. We saw many of the foul foe on our journey, at least ten or twelve companies-a total of more than a thousand Squam-and that just on the path we trod. I have no count of the true number of thieving Grg in Kraggen-cor, but 1 gauge it to be many times more than we saw."

  "The Brega Path we trod," added Bonn, "posed no special unforeseen problems, but we did not see it all; we left the Path twice. Perry, give me your map." Ere Perry could act, Felor quickly pulled a copy from his own jerkin and gave it to Bonn, who spread the map before Durek.

  "Here at Braggi's Stand, the way at the Fifth Rise is blocked. We went around it by going west at the Third Rise to the first norm passage, from there to the Sixth Rise, and thence east and south to the Great Chamber, coming back to the Path at this point." Borin traced the route they had taken, a sturdy finger moving through part of the blank area on the map. "We left the Path a second time here, at the Grate Room; we were discovered by Squam and fled thusly"-again Borin traced their route-"passing down a tortuous path to emerge in the Bottom Chamber. And so, we know not the Brega Path between the Grate Room and the Bottom Chamber; but the Path is nearly certain to be better than the hard way we ran." Borin fell silent.

  King Durek turned to Perry. "And the others, where are the others? Where is Barak?"

  "Dead," answered Perry, his eyes brimming, "slain by Spawn on the banks of the Argon." Durek, Anval, Borin, an
d Felor cast their hoods over their heads.

  "Tobin, and Delk, where are they?" demanded Durek from his cowl.

  "Tobin is with the Elves in Darda Erynian, wounded in the same battle at me Great Argon River," replied Perry. "Delk was slain by Ruck arrow as we fled the Gargon's Lair here in Kraggen-cor." Perry pointed at the approximate location of the Lair on the map.

  "Gargon?" blurted Durek, his voice filled wim surprise and dread.

  "The Ghath slain by Brega and the others in the time of the Winter War," responded Anval. "We found its ancient prison when we fled. There, too, is a vein of starsilver."

  "And my brother," asked Prince Rand, his face bleak, "where is Kian?"

  "We don't know," said Perry, anguish in his voice. "He and the Elf Vanidar Shannon Silverleaf, and Ursor the Baeran- new companions who joined us at the Argon-those three decoyed a company of Rucks so that we three could reach Dusk-Door. They fled back from the Bottom Chamber toward the Lair, drawing the maggot-folk behind them. But I fear for their safety, for later we saw many Spawn moving-we think to join the hunt. The three may escape by the underwater path we found, but I fear they may be trapped between Rucken forces. And the terrible truth is, their decoy strategy went for nought, for we didn't even reach Dusk-Door."