Douglas Niles - Winterheim

Fortunately, the girl had done a good job in providing them with disguises. Moreen glanced at Bruni and Barq One-Tooth, behind her, Kerrick bringing up the rear. All of them wore brown hooded robes that Tookie had informed them were the outfits of the slaves who bore goods from the Moongarden to the various markets in the city. They carried baskets, individual loads for Moreen and Kerrick, while Barq and Bruni shared a long, almost coffin-sized, container in which they had placed the Axe of Gonnas.

“Just get out of the way if ogres come by,” said the girl, her tone matter-of-fact. “They probably will.”

For some time they made their way toward the city, meeting small parties of slaves, occasionally stepping to the side as an ogre or two ambled past. The ogres strolled along with no apparent sense of urgency. None of them seemed to take any interest in the small party of slaves.

Moreen almost dropped her basket, however, when the braying notes of a trumpet began to ring through the hall. The three rising notes originated behind her in the Moongarden and were repeated many times. Soon they were picked up by other trumpeters, and in a few minutes the notes were ringing throughout the halls of this vast underground city.

“I think they must have found Harmlor already,” Tookie said, her dark eyes serious. “You’d better just do your best to look like slaves. There’s gonna be some excitement now, you can bet.”

True to the girl’s prediction, the corridor they followed soon echoed with lumbering footsteps, and the five of them pressed to one side, allowing a band of heavily armed ogres, a score or more, to race past.

“Uh-huh, they’re going to the Moongarden,” Tookie said. “Here … we’re almost up to the city now.”

She led them through a wide archway, and Moreen looked up in amazement. The size of the place yawning before them almost defied comprehension. Clearly they were inside a great mountain. A hundred feet below them was a wide plaza, and the smell of the sea was strong in her nostrils. She saw the ogre king’s galley, Goldwing , berthed at one slip in a large harbor and realized that the whole port was enclosed within the mountain. A channel led up to the great gates, providing access to all the seas of the Icereach when those gates were opened.

Above, the ceiling soared away, up a long shaft encircled by numerous balconies. All these seemed to be filled with ogres gathering, on ledges, along the railings, peering down and up, gesturing in agitation, roaring out to each other with questions and speculation. Torches flared throughout these levels, and grotesque shadows were cast on the walls as the citizens of the city raced about in confusion and consternation. On the waterfront, several ranks of red-coated ogres were forming with military precision, responding to the orders of a silver-helmed captain.

“This way,” said Tookie, leading the four intruders onto a wide, curving ramp, a climbing surface that led them away from the harbor and into the interior of the great city. Soon they had left the view of the central atrium behind. It was again as if they were wandering through a network of caverns, only this passage seemed to lead higher and deeper into the city of ogres.

The chiefwoman couldn’t put the danger out of her mind. There were so many of ogres. How could they ever hope to succeed, now that the enemy was alert to their presence?

They had to stop and wait as yet another troop of guards rushed past, these too apparently heading toward the Moongarden. Everywhere slaves were gathered in small groups, whispering, looking around nervously, and the chiefwoman felt acutely exposed.

A voice boomed out, as loud as thunder, and Moreen froze in shock.

“The axe of fire-there it is! They try to hide it, but its glory is revealed!”

She spun around, astonished at the sight of the massive ogre they had battled at the Icewall Gate. There he was behind them, mud-splattered and bloody, pointing unerringly at the long basket borne by Barq One-Tooth and Bruni. A score of ogre guards were with him.

Astonishingly, that basket was glowing brightly, yellow light flaring beneath the wicker frame. The top seemed to quiver and dance, and the brilliance of the golden axe was the brightest thing she had ever seen.

Strongwind leaned back against the cold stone walls of his cell. He was chained in here with the rest of the men who had been taken in the salt room. It was ironic, when he thought about it-those chains were probably all that was keeping him alive right now. From the looks of hatred and contempt on the other rebels’ faces, especially Black Mike’s, he had no doubts but that the men would have killed him if they had the chance.

He had told them again and again that he was innocent of treachery. He thought of trying one more time. They had to believe that he had not been the one to reveal the plot to the queen and to call in the royal guards.

It was pointless. They refused to even look at him.

Besides, he was too tired right now … he was too tired for anything except to just sit here and wait to die.

Grimwar Bane paced fretfully back to the throne room, his wife trailing behind. Six grenadiers stood around with their halberds raised, swords loose in their scabbards, watching the doors with narrowed, squinting eyes. The king looked up when someone pounded on the doors. One of the guards, after checking through a viewing slot, opened the portal to reveal Lord Forlane.

“Well?” demanded the king. “What is the nature of the intrusion?”

The lord spoke rapidly. “The guard at the Icewall Pass gate reports that a great number of humans attacked him. He was ashamed to admit it, but apparently they bested him and killed his entire garrison. They caused him to fall into a crevasse where they left him and made their way into the Moongarden. There it seems that they made further progress by killing an ogre guard, one of the overseers of the warren slaves.”

“And the guard in command at the gate-he is not dead?”

“No, Sire. You may remember him: Karyl Drago, the, ahem, very large warrior who came here from Glacierheim in our queen’s entourage.”

“Yes-I was just thinking of him the other day. You say he was overcome by these attackers?” Grimwar Bane found that hard to believe.

“That is what he says, Sire, and he seems to be speaking the truth. There was a small army of them by his report. He says that they used a golden axe and that the magic of that blade felled him. Nevertheless, he climbed free and pursued the intruders. It was he who discovered the overseer’s body and subsequently issued the alarm.”

“Golden axe? What kind of description do we have of these intruders?” demanded Grimwar Bane. He wished Stariz would venture some suggestion, but she watched silently, white-faced and trembling.

“It seems they are humans, Sire,” Lord Forlane reported. “Both Arktos and Highlanders, by the report. Oddly enough, there were two women with the leaders. One was small and dark, the other was much larger. She is the one, according to Karyl Drago, who bore that axe of gold, the blade of which burst into fire before his very face.”

“Then it’s true! It is the sacred axe!” declared Stariz, her face transfixed by an expression of fierce joy. “It returns to me!”

“The Axe of Gonnas …”

All too well Grimwar Bane remembered his wife’s dream of some nights before-at least at the time, he had dismissed it has a dream-that the sacred axe was near and was returning to her temple.

For the first time since discovering his lover’s body, he began to wonder if perhaps the humans really were to blame for all his troubles.

“Very well. We must act at once,” declared the king stoutly, suddenly seeing exactly what needed to be done. “Forlane, I want you to find Captain Verra. Command him to muster all the grenadiers. He is to watch the approach into the city from the Moongarden as well as keep an eye on the slaves at the Seagate and in the lumber yards. We don’t want to take any chances. If he notices any signs of an insurrection, he must act quickly and without mercy to contain the slaves.”