Thirteen

"Over there… more of them!" Vil shifted Martine's attention to the west side of the bowl. The Harper was distracted as another spear arced over their heads to tunnel into the drift behind them. "Damn their mangy hides! It looks like a war party!" the former paladin cursed.

A baying rose from the woods in the direction where Vil pointed. Surging from the trees was a lanky line of fur-clad, snowshoe-shod gnolls, wreathed in a swirl of white snow. Yipping and howling, the beasts charged in ragged waves, some breaking stride to let fly steel spears. As the six-foot shafts hissed through the cold air, a screech of anguish proved one had hit its mark. Suddenly the air was filled with spears that flew like lightning on the tightly packed gnomes. One scream became a chorus as a full score of the Vani fell under the iron-tipped bolts.

"Jouka, fall back-now!" Vil bellowed, his hands cupped around his mouth. Already the gnomes were aware of the

danger and had begun to retreat in confusion. Fear and panic became their enemies now as much as the gnolls themselves.

'This way! Stay in order and don't panic!" Martine found herself calling to the fleeing gnomes. The trap was not completely sprung, she saw. A gap in the line of gnolls lay open to the east. Some luck held with them, for the gnolls held their position on the ridge, either in confusion or because they were content to merely drive the gnomes away. With Vreesar screeching in rage at his own warriors, it wasn't an opportunity that was likely to last.

"You, you, and you-into the bush and keep watch in all directions so they don't flank us," the Harper snapped, grabbing the three nearest gnomes and pushing them toward the gap. Their skis abandoned, the little men floundered through the snow. The rest of you, fall back through there."

Vil added his voice to her commands; and under the direction of the two humans, the Vani tumbled madly for the woods. It was barely in time, for the elemental finally compelled the gnolls forward.

"Jouka!" Vil bellowed again. The Vani leader still stood in the center of the camp, trying to drag a wounded gnome with him. Seeing that sense was not going to overcome passion, Vil hurtled back through the camp and grabbed the gnome by the collar and shoved him toward the others. With a manic heave, the man threw the injured gnome over his shoulder and sprinted after Jouka.

A gray-haired gnoll lunged forward from the rest of his pack, closing on the burdened former paladin, but by then Martine had already unslung her bow. A feathered shaft shot through her fingers and pierced the beast's shoulder. Squealing in pain, it toppled to the ground, giving Vil the time he needed to reach safety. Several gnolls, sprinting forward, hurled their spears. One glanced off the man's plate armor, but he continued to run. Martine quickly released a volley of ill-aimed shots that, while they caused little harm, slowed the gnoll advance.

Clearing the last drift with wild leaps, Jouka and Vil rejoined the others. Without hesitation, Jouka barked out a quick series of orders.

"You know the way," Martine shouted to the gnomish commander. "You lead. Vil and I will guard the rear." Amazingly enough, Jouka did not argue, but let himself be caught up in the arms of Ojakangas, who had managed to recover his skis. Vil declined the set offered him, and Martine did the same. Of those gnomes who had escaped, less than half still had skis. Those that did doubled up, awkwardly balancing another gnome on the boards with them. Vil passed the wounded gnome off to one of them. "Where was your wizard during the fighting?" Jouka demanded angrily as they set out.

Martine said nothing as she floundered through the waist-deep snow, trying to match the speed of the gnomes. Over her rasping breath, the Harper strained to hear sounds of pursuit. She heard the mingled cries of the gnolls, some like wolves on the scent, others barking and quarreling as the creatures fell to looting the dead. Over it all, Martine distinctly heard the shrill voice of Vreesar. The pursuit was on, with only herself and Vil to act as the rear guard.

Martine took position behind a pair of tree trunks that formed a V, a good shelter for her archery. With arrows staked in the snow around her, she waited while Vil stayed close by, his sword at the ready.

The first three gnolls that broke the crest of the ridge received two arrows each. Five of the six were hits, Martine noted, and two of her targets squealed and flopped into the snow. The third gnoll did neither, for the shafts had transfixed him to the trunk of a tree. There he hung,

making gurgling noises while his arms swung feebly like a broken puppet.

"On your left!" Vil hissed in her ear.

Another shaft hissed from between her fingers, speeding toward a shadow that darted across a sunlit patch. Martine didn't see the arrow hit, but a yowl from the woods confirmed the accuracy of her aim.

"Any more?" she demanded, relying on Vil as her spotter. "Nothing yet," he whispered.

The pair waited, trying not to start at every shadow. They could hear the gnolls barking crude insults at the gnomes, though no more of the dogmen showed their faces.

"What do you suppose they're planning to do?" the ranger asked.

"They're scared. They'll shout insults for a while, and then theyll rush us."

Martine nodded. `°That's what I was thinking.' "What do you suggest?"

"Good time to move," she offered.

"Right," the man said. "Give me some of those arrows.^, Without wondering why, she grabbed a handful from her quiver and passed them to the former paladin. "Cover me." Vil said. The warrior struggled to his feet and set out toward a fallen log in a doubled-over run. He disappeared behind the log in a frantic, ungraceful dive.

Panic started to rise in Martine, an unreasoning fear that she had been abandoned. When the man didn't reappear immediately, she shifted about nervously and hissed, "Vil!" Nothing. The shouts of the gnolls were growing fiercer. "Vil!" she repeated, a little louder.

Vil's black-haired head popped up over the log. "Quiet! Throw me the bow I'll cover you."

Unnocking her arrow, the Harper threw the bow like a spear. The throw came up short, and a for a fearful instant, she thought it would end up stranded between the two of them, but the curve of the bow acted like a sleigh's skid, and it slid across the snow till it was just within Vil's grasp.

Suddenly the woods rang with Vreesar's buzzing rage, echoed by a chorus of howls from the gnolls.

Martine waited for the man's signal, and when it came, she launched herself into a blind sprint. "Quick-this way!" Vil ordered, shoving her farther into the woods almost as soon as she hurtled over the log. Blindly obedient, she sprinted on to fling herself down beside a frozen stream. "Ready!" she panted.

The bow came sailing across the gap. Catching it before it crashed into the brush on the far side, the ranger moved down the bank a bit till she was behind their original position. She saw moving shapes, and without waiting to find out just what they were, she fired off a series of quick shots. A chorus of yelps and confused shouts came from the general direction of the movement. Then the shadows scattered once more into the woods.

Working from cover to cover, the pair finally managed to put some distance between themselves and their pursuers. There was no doubt the gnolls were still on the trail-the sound of their savage voices was evidence enough of thatbut the creatures no longer could risk open movement, thanks to the stinging warnings from Vil and Martine.

Both humans were breathing hard and soaked with sweat, while their coats were sticky with pine resin from clinging to the cover of the tree trunks. However, neither was conscious of fatigue, being far too occupied with the chase.