Crown of Fire - Ed Greenwood [29]
Narm and Shandril peered at each other. "I hope I'm never that sad," Narm said quietly as he put his arms around her.
"I hope I'm never that short," Shandril said with a sudden smile. The mood broken, they laughed uneasily-and then heartily when they heard Delg snap the words, "I heard that!" from the other side of the ridge. After their laughter was done, they walked back together and found the dwarf gloomily surveying a scorched stone in the center of the clearing where the medallion had been. Delg sighed, lifted his eyes to Shandril's, and said gruffly, "Just keep your fires away from my axe, lass.
Oh, aye-and the seat of my breeches."
Narm chuckled to rob those words of their sting, but Shandril did not manage a smile.
Not far away, men in black armor crept through the forest, their drawn blades blackened with soot.
Their progress was marked by muffled curses and stumbling noises from time to time as rocks and tree roots disputed passage with the soldiers.
A swordmaster near the rear muttered, "A little more care and quiet, there!" Silence answered him, and after a few cautious breaths the officer turned his head and added, "Keep a good watch out behind, Simron-or you'll wind up owlbear-meat."
"Aye, sir," Simron replied. low-voiced, and laid a restraining hand on the shoulder of the man beside him. They knelt unmoving until they heard the swordmaster scramble away.
Simron turned and surveyed the night in all directions behind them. After being satisfied that they weren't followed, he turned back to his companion and said, "I'm in no hurry to move on yet and get cooked like an ox on a feast night. Have ye heard the one about the six dancing girls and the glowworm? No? Well, then…"
"Enough, lass. It's too dark to keep hurling flames about, even down in this vale. Your fires'll draw the eyes of beasts-and worse-all around in these woods." Delg put a cautious hand on her elbow, which was about as high as he could reach.
Shandril let the smoldering spellfire in her hands die away and then stood trembling, drenched with sweat. Managing a weary smile, she said, "Thanks, Delg. I suppose I got carried away – I even forgot about evenfeast"
"Ifs waiting," the dwarf said, leading her briskly back to where Narm lay against their packs, dozing.
"If the flies haven't had it all by now-"
Whatever else he'd been going to say was lost forever in the sudden crack of a whip, very near in the darkness. A startled, tired Shandril watched light blossom here and there among the trees as lanterns were unhooded. More than one lamp was sent streaking through the air, borne by hurled spears-and in the light they shed, the horrified dwarf saw dark, sinuous shapes leaping at them.
"War dogs!" Delg swore. "Narm, 'ware! Narm!" He was running as he bellowed, axe flashing out.
In eerie silence the dogs bounded toward him. Their tongues must have been cut out, Shandril thought in horror, as she raised weary arms and sent killing spellfire into the night Gods, but they were fast! Dogs dodged and leapt, bared fangs flashing as they came. She struck again, and blazing hounds writhed in soundless agony, rolling over and over, smoke rising from their flanks.
She saw N arm's hands fall, a spell done-and a dozen or so dogs came to an abrupt, brutal stop, falling and thrashing about together in a confused mass. He must have conjured another spellweb. But many more dogs streamed around the fallen ones and toward them. Shandril hurled spellfire again, and in the midst of it, one dark form rose up, pawed the air for a moment, and then fell over on its back, dead. By the light of her spellflames she saw a score of leaping dogs still coming, snapping and snarling as they came.
Delg stood among them, axe rising and failing. The light grew stronger as torches were lit. Shandril saw the gleam of armor all around them in the trees as Narm, his dagger in hand, reached her just in time to be bowled over by a leaping war dog.
Shandril screamed as