"Come on," he chivvied the others, "let's see where we are."
One by one they edged past the cascading water, treading carefully because of the slippery stone. None of them escaped without a good soaking and Goпmgar was nearly knocked off his feet.
It was around about noon when they emerged into the autumn sunshine. A rainbow was shimmering in the waterfall and the air smelled fresh and moist. They reached the edge of the plateau and peered down at the fifty-pace drop. The firs, pines, and spruces formed a dark green mass of bristling spears. Judging by the gathering clouds, they were about to be rained on.
To the west, a vast lake shimmered on the horizon, but in the north they could see a collection of houses ringed by a wall. The settlement lay on the other side of the forest, and beyond that were fields.
Tungdil was heartened by its proximity. It shouldn't take more than an orbit to get there. "Vraccas has been merciful," he told the others. "We'll have our pony in no time."
"A town full of long-uns," Goпmgar said glumly. "What if they don't like us?"
"Stop whining! We don't need the hillside caving in on us as well," snapped Boпndil. "I don't know why you're worried about long-uns. They might be tall, but I'm strong."
"Let me do the talking," said Tungdil, alarmed. "I've dealt with humans all my life."
The others saw no reason to argue, so they set off to find a way down from the plateau, taking a narrow path that led through the forest below.
There wasn't much light beneath the canopy of conifers. The mist, fine and wispy in the upper branches, thickened toward the ground, forming a dense milky layer around the dwarves' waists. Their eyes needed time to adjust to the sunlight and they were grateful for the gloom.
"Maira turned these woods into a sanctuary for unicorns," Tungdil told them. He felt a rush of excitement at seeing the forest that he had read so much about. "If we're lucky, we'll see one."
Boпndil looked at him blankly. "What's the good of that? We can't ride them, can we?"
"No, but they're beautiful creatures and they're rare. The дlfar hunted them almost to extinction."
"Quiet, isn't it?" said Bavragor. "You'd think no one else lived here. Maybe I should sing something. The unicorns might show themselves if they know we're here."
"Unicorns are timid animals. Singing-"
"Isn't caterwauling the word you're looking for?" Boлndal chimed in softly.
"Either way, making a noise won't help. Legend has it that they only approach young virgins," explained Tungdil.
"Young virgins, eh?" said Bavragor. "That's me out, then. I don't suppose any of you…?" He look slyly at Tungdil, who tried desperately not to blush.
Just then Boпndil stumbled into something and came to a halt in the fog.
"What do we have here?" he said in surprise, feeling his way through the mist with one of his axes. The blade met something soft and came up tinged with blood. "Here, give me that," he said, grabbing Goпmgar's shield and waving it back and forth until the bloodied body appeared through the mist.
"It's a horse," exclaimed Bavragor, staring at the white-coated mount. "At least…Hang on a minute, it's not a unicorn, is it?"
Tungdil knelt beside the dead animal. Its throat hung in shreds, chunks were missing from its flesh, and its beautiful horn had been wrenched from its skull.
"It was a unicorn," he said sadly, stroking the animal's white flank. Lot-Ionan's books described the unicorns as pure creatures, incapable of malice or evil, but their gentle nature had done nothing to save them from their fate. "Nфd'onn's hordes must have got here first."
"Do you think they're still around?" Boпndil asked hopefully. "They might be lurking in the bushes."
Goпmgar retreated hastily, only to fall over backward in the mist.
For a moment he was lost; then he reappeared, shrieking. His hands were stained with blood. "There's another one," he shouted, sheltering behind the others. "I need my shield! Give it back to me this instant!"
Boпndil strode off and fanned away the mist where Goпmgar had fallen. A light wind gusted through the milky swathes and helped to clear their view.
They stared in silence at the gruesome sight. Strewn across the ground were twelve dead unicorns and three times as many orcs. The fabled mounts had been brought down by arrows and slashed to pieces, but not before they had gored their attackers with their fearsome horns and hooves.
As the mist continued to clear, the outlines of a corral made of tree trunks loomed into view. The unicorns had been rounded up and slaughtered.
"They hunted them down," Bavragor said, aghast. "Aren't unicorns almost extinct?" he asked Tungdil.
"There used to be just over a dozen of them," Tungdil answered shakily. Even in death, the unicorns looked dignified, peaceful, and pure; they must have been exceptionally beautiful before their mauling by the vilest of beasts. "There can't be more than a couple of them left."
"Girdlegard is in a bad way," Boлndal said sadly. "It's time we got a move on and bought a pony. Nothing except Keenfire can stop Nфd'onn from taking innocent lives." Setting aside their sorrow, they scrambled over the stockade and set off through the forest.
How many more deaths? The sight of the murdered unicorns reminded Tungdil of how much he wished Lot-Ionan, Frala, and her daughters were still alive.
Boпndil was still brandishing his axes, hoping to encounter an orcish war band and work off his pent-up rage. Suddenly a strange look came over him and he smiled. His brother reached silently for his crow's beak.
"Smell that?" Ireheart whispered excitedly. "Oink, oink!"
The next moment, the rancid odor of fat-smeared armor reached Tungdil's nostrils too. It smelled doubly repugnant among the fresh moss, damp earth, and fragrant pines. "We can't stop now, Boпndil. We're going straight to the settlement."
"Not until I've split their ugly skulls," Boпndil growled defiantly. His fiery spirit had been trapped for so long that his inner furnace had overheated, driving him to open mutiny. "Come out, you runts! Come here and be slaughtered!" He threw back his head and let out a long, drawn-out grunt.
His call was answered by grunting and snarling amid the dense trees.
Goпmgar shrank back, disappearing behind his shield. "Shut up, you lunatic!" he hissed fearfully. "They're…"
The clunking and jangling of armor was getting closer all the time. Eyes closed, Ireheart listened in rapt concentration. "They've climbed the stockade," he told them. "There must be"-he listened intently-"oh, twenty of them at least!" He swung his axes impatiently. "They've found us. They're picking up speed!"
His eyes flew open and he was off, grunting and oinking as he ran. With an apologetic glance at the others, Boлndal chased after him. There was a short pause, then the sound of steel impacting steel. The woods echoed with the din.
It was all too much for Tungdil. If he's not careful, his inner furnace will melt his mind.
"Well," Bavragor asked quizzically, "aren't we going to help them?" He raised his war hammer.
"I should think not!" snapped Goпmgar. "It's their fault for starting it. Let them finish it themselves."
"No, we'll fight together," ruled Tungdil. "And after that, we're heading for the settlement as fast as we can."
They hurried off. Charging ahead, Bavragor hurled himself on the nearest orc with a bloodcurdling howl. The beasts were too busy surrounding the twins to spot the new arrivals and were taken off guard. Their response was predictably poor.
Moments later, two dozen orcish corpses littered the forest floor-no thanks to Goпmgar, who had avoided all contact with the enemy by hiding behind the mason's back.
Ireheart was responsible for most of the carnage, but Boлndal and Bavragor had fought with such ferocity that Tungdil had barely had a chance to land a blow.
"Serves them right, the stupid runts," laughed Boпndil, mopping his sweaty brow. "They won't be killing any more unicorns now!" He kicked out at one of the corpses. "That's for Tion," he told the dead orc. "Be sure to give it to him with my regards."