Domes of Fire

‘I’ll go with you,’ Vanion said, and the two of them walked back up the canyon towards the cave-mouth.

Berit and a small group of young knights stood guard at the entrance to the cave. ‘Are they coming?’ the handsome young man asked nervously.

‘We’ve seen a few scouts,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘We’re going to try to goad them into an attack. If we have to fight them, I’d rather do it in the daylight.’

‘And before that storm hits,’ Vanion added.

‘I don’t think they’ll get past us,’ Sparhawk told the youthful knight, ‘but stay alert. If things start to look tight, pull back inside the cave.’

Berit nodded.

Then Ehlana, Talen and Sephrenia emerged from the cave.

‘Are they coming?’ Ehlana asked, her voice slightly shrill.

‘Not yet,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘It’s just a question of time, though. We’re going to try to goad them a bit. Ulath thinks he might be able to enrage some of them enough so that they’ll attack before the rest are ready. We’d rather not have to face them all at once if we can avoid it.’ He looked at Sephrenia. ‘Are you up to a spell or two, Sephrenia?’

‘That depends on the spell.’

‘Can you block the cave mouth so that the Trolls can’t get at you and the others?’

‘Probably, and if not, I can always collapse it.’

‘I wouldn’t do that except as a last resort. Wait for Berit and his men to get inside with you, though.’

Talen’s fine clothes were a bit mud-smeared. ‘Any luck?’ Sparhawk asked him.

‘I found a place where a bear spent last winter,’ the boy shrugged. ‘It involved a bit of wriggling. There are a couple of other passageways I want to look at.’

‘Pick the best one you can. If Sephrenia has to bring down the cave-mouth, I’d like to have you all back where it’s safe.’

Talen nodded.

‘Be careful, Sparhawk,’ Ehlana said to him, embracing him fiercely.

‘Always, love.’

Sephrenia had also embraced Vanion, her admonition echoing Ehlana’s. ‘Now go, both of you,’ she added.

‘Yes, little mother,’ Sparhawk and Vanion said in unison.

The two knights started back down the canyon. ‘You don’t approve, do you, Sparhawk?’ Vanion asked gravely.

‘It’s none of my business, my friend.’

‘I didn’t ask if it was any of your business, I asked if you approved. There wasn’t any other way, you know. The laws of both our cultures prohibit our marrying.’

‘I don’t think the laws apply to you two, Vanion. You both have a special friend who ignores the laws when she chooses to.’ He smiled at his old friend. ‘Actually, I’m rather pleased about it. I got very tired of seeing the pair of you moping about the way you were.’

‘Thanks, Sparhawk. I wanted to get that out into the open. I’ll never be able to go back to Eosia, though.’

‘I’d say that’s no great a loss under the circumstances. You and Sephrenia are happy, and that’s all that matters.’

‘I’ll agree there. When you get back to Chyrellos, try to put the best face on it you can, though. I’m afraid Dolmant will burst into flames when he hears about it.’

‘He might surprise you, Vanion.’

Sparhawk was a bit startled to discover that he still remembered a few words in Troll. Ulath stood in the centre of their narrow gap, bellowing at the forest in that snarling tongue.

‘What’s he saying?’ Kalten asked curiously.

‘It wouldn’t translate very well,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘Trollish insults lean heavily in the direction of body-functions.’

‘Oh. Sorry I asked.’

‘You’d be a lot sorrier if I could translate,’ Sparhawk said, wincing at a particularly vile imprecation Ulath had just hurled at the Trolls.

The Trolls, it appeared, took insults very seriously. Unlike humans, they seemed not to be able to shrug such things off as no more than a customary prelude to battle. They howled at each new sally from the big Genidian Knight. A number of them appeared at the edge of the wood, foaming at the mouth and stamping in rage.

‘How much longer before they charge?’ Tynian asked his tall blond friend.

‘You can’t always tell with Trolls,’ Ulath replied. ‘I don’t think they’re accustomed to fighting in groups. I can’t say for sure, but I think one of them will lose his temper before the others, and he’ll come rushing at us. I’m not positive if the others will follow.’ He roared something else at the huge creatures at the forest’s edge.

One of the Trolls shrieked with fury and broke into a shambling, three-legged run, brandishing a huge club in his free hand. First one Troll, then several others, began to run after him.

Sparhawk glanced around, checking the positions of his archers. Khalad, he noted, had given his crossbow to another young Pandion and stood coolly sighting along the shaft of the javelin resting across the centre of his improvised engine.

The Troll in the lead was swinging wildly at the sharpened stakes with his club, but the springy saplings bent beneath his blows and then snapped back into place. The enraged Troll lifted his muzzle and howled in frustration.

Khalad cut the rope holding his over-sized bow drawn back. The limbs of the bow snapped forward with an almost musical twang, and the javelin shot forward in a long, smooth arc to sink into the Troll’s vast, furry chest with a meaty-sounding ‘chunk!’

The Troll jerked back and stood staring stupidly at the shaft protruding from his chest. He touched it with one tentative finger as if he could not even begin to understand how it had got there. Then he sat down heavily with blood pouring from his mouth. He grasped the shaft feebly with both hands and wrenched at it. A fresh gush of blood burst from his mouth, and he sighed and toppled over on one side.

‘Good shot,’ Kalten called his congratulations to Sparhawk’s squire, who, with the help of two other young Pandions was already re-cocking the engine.

‘Pass the word to the other archers,’ Khalad called back. ‘The Trolls stop when they come to those stakes. They don’t seem to be able to understand them, and they make perfect targets when they’re standing still like that.’

‘Right.’ Kalten went to the archers on one side of the canyon and Bevier to the other to pass the word along.

The half-dozen or so Trolls who had followed the first one paid no attention to his fall and lunged on forward towards the field of sharpened stakes.