Jean Rabe - The Silver Stair

Near Goldmoon's tent, which had also caught fire, another contingent of Que-Nal was struggling with the healer's followers and the gnoll. The warriors in the second rank, their backs to the sea, were using flaming arrows, though not directing them into the people but rather into the tents. The result was chaos. The elderly and the children who huddled in the center of the settlement were terrified by the fires, which were sending gouts of smoke their way and making it difficult to breathe. A handful of the older children were using their cloaks to try to put out the smallest of the fires but meeting with little success.

Orvago threw back his head and howled, then pressed forward and slashed the magical broadsword. The ivory pommel felt warm against his paw, and he swung the blade wildly as he'd seen the barbarians on the ship use their swords. The Que-Nal gave the gnoll a wide berth, trying to concentrate instead on Goldmoon's followers, only some of whom wielded swords.

One man swung an iron skillet, managing to crack it against the skull of a young Que-Nal. Near him, a woman was using a tent pole as if it were a quarterstaff, and she drove it forward into the belly of a tall warrior, knocking him back into the second rank and pushing a bowman over the cliff. The three fishermen were here, using gaff hooks against the warriors who had shields. The hooks cut into the hide shields, ripping them.

Jasper finally reached Orvago's side, out of breath and tugging his hammer free. He brought it up just in time to block the spear thrust of an angry Que-Nal. "Gair's dead!" the dwarf shouted. "He fell from the Silver Stair!"

The gnoll grunted in reply and continued to slash at the barbarians, sending two over the edge of the cliff.

Suddenly a series of shrill cries cut through the air, and the gnoll and dwarf risked a quick glance toward their source. Shadowwalker, illuminated on the far side of the settlement by all the burning tents, was on the shoulders of a burly, young barbarian. He was making a keening, yipping sound and gesturing wildly toward Heartspring. His warriors parted, some disappearing into the night, as Camilla and her knights thundered down the trail and into the settlement.

The knights charged into Shadowwalker's men, bashing the warriors with their shields to keep them off-balance and to prevent them from using their spears. The presence of the knights was enough to turn the tide of battle on the Heartspring side of the settlement. Shadowwalker ordered a retreat, and his men fell back.

Camilla did not order her knights to pursue. Rather, she scanned the settlement, ordering them to join the soldiers who were still fighting at the construction site. She spotted Goldmoon and headed toward the healer, stopping in her tracks when another sharp cry cut through the din.

"More of them?" she whispered as she craned her neck about, trying to find the source. "By the will of Kiri-Jolith, we do not have the numbers to fight these."

The cry sounded again, much closer this time, and it was echoed a dozen times over. It made the Que-Nal pause, giving the soldiers and knights openings they quickly took advantage of. As they pushed the barbarians back, Camilla reached Goldmoon.

"It was a ruse to get us out of camp," the knight explained. "Good thing I didn't take many men."

Goldmoon didn't reply. She was dressing the wounds of the fallen Solamnic Knight.

Camilla defended the healer now, using her shield to keep spears from reaching Goldmoon. The knight commander was exhausted from her run to Heartspring and back, her sword arm heavy like lead. Still she refused to quit.

Abruptly the Que-Nal started pulling back, making a fighting retreat as the cry cut through the night again. Branches snapped and snow crunched as more Que-Nal broke into the settlement, but these were not fighting Goldmoon and her followers. They struck out at their brothers instead.

"Skydancer!" Iryl called from across the settlement.

The Que-Nal chieftain directed his warriors after the renegades, and within moments, Shadowwalker's men were fleeing. Heartbeats later, they were nowhere to be seen.

Iryl raced toward the chieftain.

The settlers went to work battling the fires, which had consumed half the tents. Some counted heads, and others looked to the wounded. Goldmoon backed away from the injured knight and helped him to his feet. Despite the cold, she was sweating from the strain of tending to so many people. She didn't object when Camilla put an arm around her shoulder for support. Silently the two women took in the aftermath.

More than a dozen soldiers had died, and twice that many were wounded. Only one knight was slain, and this because a Que-Nal spear found its way between the fastenings of his breastplate. Two of the Thorbardin dwarves had also perished, and Redstone hovered, distraught, at their sides.

Orvago and Jasper, their clothes coated with the barbarians' blood, tromped over, edging through the crowd of settlers and soldiers and spying Goldmoon next to Camilla.

"Gair's dead!" Jasper called to her. "He fell from the stair. I think he brought the renegades down on us." The dwarf moved closer. "I tried to help him," he said more softly, meaning the words only for the healer. "I don't think there was anythin' good still inside him." He shook his head. "I killed him, Goldmoon, but I didn't really have a choice."

"Neither do I."

The crowd seemed to utter a collective gasp. Hovering above the center of the camp, suspended by two inky-black shadows with glowing red eyes, was Gair.

"Whisperers!" the gnoll shouted. He waved his broadsword and pushed his way through the crowd, leaping and trying to get close enough to slice at one of the undead who held the elf.

"By Reorx's beard!" swore Jasper. The dwarf clutched his hammer tightly and made a move to follow the gnoll, but Goldmoon grabbed his shoulder. She pointed to the fallen soldiers and renegade Que-Nal. The dwarf was torn for an instant between helping the men who still lived and going after Gair. He couldn't reach the elf so high above the ground, and some of the injured needed immediate attention.

"By Reorx's beard," he grumbled again. He, too, pushed through the crowd, but not toward Gair. He noticed that more of Goldmoon's students were following suit, kneeling to tend to the renegades, not just the Solamnic forces. He heard Goldmoon shouting to Gair, but he couldn't quite make out the words. There was too much talking going on among the settlers.

He knelt by a soldier whose arm was badly mangled.

The dwarf was exhausted, but seeing the wounded man and the others dying nearby, forced him to summon his mystical energy. "Have to get you fixed up quick," he told the man as he searched for his inner spark. Gotta be quick, he added to himself, 'cause I might have to help Goldmoon handle Gair.

"Goldmoon!" Gair cried as the shadows lowered him just enough to tantalize the gnoll.

Orvago stood underneath them, leaping and swinging the blade.

"Goldmoon!"

The healer edged through the crowd, noting the shocked look on the settlers' faces. Some were angry, while others looked frightened. However, most were still bewildered by the night's events. Amanda was at her mother's feet, reaching up into the air and calling for the elf.

"I'm here, Gair." Goldmoon raised a hand to draw his attention.

The wraiths of the elder Graymist and Darkhunter continued to hold Gair suspended. The elf slowly regarded the healer.

"I want to thank you, Goldmoon," he began. "You showed me the doorway, and through it, I've brought these men, and more. I couldn't have done this without you."

The aging healer shuddered but kept her eyes locked on her student.

"I owe you, dear teacher, and I need to pay you back, but there's the dilemma. How? I tried to bring Riverwind's spirit through the door, to give him some substance. Just for you. But he objects to the notion. Still, you know that I am nothing if not persistent. Would you like that, dear teacher? To have Riverwind at your side, as I have these men at mine?"