"This is our chance," shouted Tilogorn, rushing toward him. "For Girdlegard!" His soldiers joined the charge.
Most of the valiant warriors were turned to dust, but the magus's weakness had damaged his magic shield. Thirty men, among them King Tilogorn, penetrated his guard and were able to attack. Three, then four arrows embedded themselves in the bloated body, and the soldiers rushed in, hacking at Nфd'onn's prostrate form. Seconds later, Prince Mallen joined the fray.
Terrified that they too would fall prey to some wizardry, the men attacked with preternatural force. Their arms rose and fell in a savage frenzy, the blows raining harder and faster all the time. Blood seeped from every inch of the mutilated body, washing over the floor and poisoning the air.
Tilogorn saw a flicker of movement in the open wounds. There's something alive in there, he realized with a shudder. He threw all his strength behind his blade. "Die, why don't you!"
"No!" screeched Nфd'onn. Even as he spoke a gust of wind swept his assailants off their feet, knocking them backward. "Girdlegard will be ruined without me!" Black lightning shot from the onyx on his staff, zigzagging in all directions and incinerating the flesh and armor of all in its path.
"Don't listen to him!" Tilogorn sprang forward and raised his sword. "Keep fighting," he gasped. His right arm swooped toward the magus. "Keep-"
A bolt raced toward him and seared through his armor, piercing his heart. With a groan he sank down and let go of his sword, which clattered to the ground and disappeared among the muddle of legs and feet. He was filled with a sense of crushing failure.
"Congratulations, Prince Mallen," Nфd'onn said mockingly. "I suppose this makes you Idoslane's new king." He stepped forward and made to shake his hand. "The question is: Will you join me, or lose your kingdom as quickly as you gained it?"
The last of the Idos didn't stop to consider. Picking up Tilogorn's sword, he helped the wounded king to his feet. "Let's go," he said to Tilogorn. "We'll deal with Nфd'onn another time." He dragged the monarch to the door, protected by a guard of men.
The magus watched incredulously. "Not you as well?"
"How could I ally myself with Idoslane's enemy?" Mallen lifted Tilogorn's arm over his shoulder and half carried, half propelled him down the stairs. Nфd'onn strode after them.
"Then you shall die together!" he shouted hysterically. "You're no use to me!"
A volley of bolts crackled toward them, searing through the last remaining guards. Mallen slung Tilogorn over his shoulder and raced down the stairway. "I'm not leaving you with that monster. I'll get us out of here if it's the last thing I do," he said, gasping under the strain.
"Rule our kingdom more wisely than your forebears." Tilogorn was fading, his voice little more than a whisper. A trickle of blood leaked out of his mouth and onto the prince's armor. "Listen carefully: Wait for the other units at a safe distance from Porista. Rescue the wounded and be sure to burn the dead. If you don't, you'll face an army of revenants that nothing and no one can defeat. Whatever happens, Nфd'onn mustn't be granted his invincible undead."
"You can't die on me, Tilogorn. I need you to help me exact our revenge." The prince had to fight for breath as he struggled beneath the extra weight. "Don't tell me you're prepared to leave your kingdom to an Ido!" he said harshly, hoping to stir the king's anger and galvanize his will to live. "What's the matter with you, Tilogorn?"
"Promise me you'll make a better king than your grandfather. Promise that you won't tear Idoslane apart!"
"You have my word."
"Burn the dead," the king whispered. "You must save Idoslane. Palandiell be…" The tension left his body.
I shall honor my promise, Tilogorn of Idoslane. Mallen laid the body gently at the foot of the turret. To regain the throne at such a price…He took the dead king's sword, clasp, and signet ring and ran on.
It was only through sheer determination and good fortune that he and his remaining men escaped the violent fury of the revenants.
As they left the city, they set fire to the buildings, creating a sea of flames that no amount of wizardry could contain. Even the rain invoked by Nфd'onn could not prevent Porista from being razed to the ground, leaving nothing save the palace and the foundations. King Lothaire and King Tilogorn were never to rise from the blaze.
XIII
Underground Network, Girdlegard, Late Autumn, 6234th Solar Cycle By now the five dwarves had a rough sense of how far they were from their destination. At first they hadn't noticed the numerals on the tunnel walls, marking the completion of each twenty-five-mile stretch. In no time they covered an incredible two hundred miles.
After a while they rolled to a halt in another large hall and decided to rest for a few hours before embarking on the next descent. Traveling by wagon was less tiring than walking, but their muscles were sore after hours of sitting uncomfortably and being thrown from side to side. Even the constant rattling was wearying after a while.
Boпndil told the others to stay seated while he stood on top of the wagon and scanned the dusty floor for prints. "Either they've been pulverized or no one's been this way in ages," he said. He jumped down and vanished in a thick gray cloud.
Boлndal thought for a moment. "The rail doesn't look especially clean. Gandogar must have taken a different route."
Tungdil unfolded the map he had sketched in the previous hall. "It's possible, I suppose."
"I hope the ceiling collapses on top of him," scowled Boпndil, searching the hall for firewood. He found a stash of abandoned timber, but it turned to dust in his hands. There would be no melted cheese on toasted mushrooms after all.
They ate their meal in silence, each absorbed in his thoughts. Bavragor took long drafts from his drinking pouch and eventually burst into song, ignoring his companions' objections. His powerful voice reverberated through the hall, echoing down the tunnels.
"For pity's sake, be quiet! We don't want every creature below the surface knowing that we're here," snapped Goпmgar.
Boлndal grinned. "I don't think it's much of a secret. He hasn't stopped warbling since we left."
"Poor little Shimmerbeard," teased Boпndil, laying his axes in his lap and setting to work with his grindstone. "You're not scared, are you? Don't worry: My brother and I are here to protect you." He tested each blade with his thumb. "It's a long time since they tasted orc flesh. They're almost as impatient as me."
"Orc flesh? Down here?" Goпmgar asked anxiously.
"Who can tell?" the secondling replied. Boлndal and Tungdil saw the strange glint in his eyes and knew at once that he meant to have some fun: The poor artisan was about to be scared witless. "The tunnels have been abandoned for hundreds of cycles. All kinds of creatures could have moved in without us knowing." He tapped out a noisy rhythm with the butts of his axes. "It won't be safe until we get rid of them. From now on, it's war!"
"That's enough, mighty warrior," Tungdil warned him.
Boпndil laughed, spurred on by his fiery spirit. "Show yourselves, you ogres, trolls, orcs, and beasts of Tion! Come out and be hacked to pieces by the children of the Smith!" He had to shout at the top of his voice to drown out the mason's singing. "Come out, so I can kill you!"
"Don't provoke them," Goпmgar pleaded, edging away until he was sitting with his back against the wall. "You shouldn't bait them like that."
"Someone once told me about hideous beasts that live down here and plague the dwarves," said Bavragor, joining in the fun. He oiled his throat with another helping of whatever he kept in his mysterious pouch. "Tion created them as our natural enemies, like he created the дlfar to wipe out the elves."
"Someone once told me about innocent creatures dying in agony because of your singing," quipped Boлndal.