"Be careful, for Torm's sake! They've targeted the doorway!" Vil was crouched in the snow against the fallen hem gnomes to either side of him. Black feathered shafts jutbed from the log barricade, testimony to the events of the dawn.
Fully awake now, the Harper scuttled across the snow to join Vil. "Anything happen?" she asked, dismissing the archery as unimportant. Vil shook his head. "Not yet. I think they're building up their courage for a charge. Their archers have us pinned down, so my guess is it shouldn't be too much longer." "What's the plan?"
"Plan? Fight them." Vil gestured toward the cabin. "Ojakangas has gathered the wounded who can still fight. They're our reserves. Everybody else who can fight, about fifteen in all, is out here. Good plan, eh?"
A whooping cry came from the woods. Before the echoes had finished, a lone gnoll charged from between the mist cloaked trees, running madly toward the barricade. The beast sprinted with its wicker shield held high and its sword low, covering the open ground at a startling pace.
"Stay down… wait!" Vil bellowed. A volley of gnoll arrows punctuated his warning.
With a last spring, the gnoll scrambled onto the barricade, trying to hack a gap through the tangled pine branches. "Stop him!" Vil shouted, and a small squad of gnomes hurried to the position. They jabbed their spears up between the trunks, but the gnoll furiously blocked the thrusts aside with his shield, meantime trying to poke his sword back at them through the gaps. The clatter and clang of the skirmish resounded through the clearing.
In the midst of that fight the woods erupted in a chorus of howls. The ravens gathered at the fringe of the woods squawked and took flight all at once.
"Jouka, Oja-here they come!" VII warned.
A ragged line of gnolls, shrieking savagely, burst from the woods and sprinted madly across the gap. Martine guessed there were about twenty of them. The pack headed for a different section of the wall, one unprotected now that their pack mate had drawn off the defenders.
Moving in a crouching run along the line, Martine and Vil reached the new position just as the first of the gnolls scrambled onto the logs. Swords drawn, Martine and Vil
madly slashed and thrust at the mass of Burnt Fur warriors. Fresh blood on her blade told the Harper at least one of her blows had been successful, but there was no time to pick targets.'lhe barricade hampered the attackers, but even so, the pair could not hold off the massed assault: Arrows winged into the snow between the humans and: the cabin as the gnoll archers tried to pick off the two defenders.
First one gnoll, then another, leaped over the top of the wall to land inside the compound. They wheeled madly to fend off the few gnome reinforcements rushing to the humans' aid. Martine caught one in the back with the point her sword, cutting it about where its kidney should be, but even as the dog-man fell, another leaped over the wall to take its place. She watched in amazement as Jouka, a dagger in each hand, sprang from the top of the logs and landed spread-eagled on the chest of another gnoll, hugging the creature in his spiked embrace. The gnoll squealed as the nailed armor shredded through leather and fur to tear the flesh underneath. As the creature flailed, Jouka finished it off with a double thrust of his daggers to its throat
Jouka untangled himself from the corpse, bits of cloth and fur clinging to his bloodstained spikes just as Martine and Vil were forced to give ground. "Ojakangasrnow!" Vil yelled as he hacked the legs out from under a gnoll who attempted to break past.
The cabin door banged open, and a stream of little men poured out, screaming shrilly. Their charge hit the startled gnolls in the flank. Seeing the makings of a trap, Martine shifted to the far side, hacking her way past the opposition until she stood alongside Jouka and several other gnomes who had joined him.
Now the attackers were pressed on both sides. In addition, the cabin wall blocked the gnolls in front of them, while the barricade would severely hamper any retreat. The twang of a bowstring behind her told Martine that the Vani were returning fire on the gnoll archers, forcing them to concentrate on the bowmen.
With a wild cry, Jouka charged forward once more, and the gnolls instinctively retreated from the porcupine-like warrior. They backed into their pack mates trying to hold back Ojakangas's crew on the other side. The resulting confusion was all that was needed. Believing they were being abandoned by their brothers, the front ranks started to clamber over the barricade and make for the trees.
The Harper was determined to keep the gnolls in full retreat and not to let them reorganize. "Rush them!" she ordered even as she charged forward. Screeching her best banshee yell, the woman whirled her sword in broad arcs, heedless of her -own danger.
At the sight of a wild woman and a spiked midget fearlessly rushing them, the dog-men in the front rank broke and clawed at those behind them in a frantic bid to get away. The spark of panic fanned into a flame, and the retreat turned into a rout. The Vani fell upon the backs of the fleeing enemy as they tried to get over the barricade.
As the last of the Burnt Fur warriors finally broke free and fled for the woods, Martine and Vil moved quickly to restore order. Several Vani had to be restrained from scaling the logs and setting off in pursuit. A quick count of the bodies showed two gnomes dead, plus several with minor wounds. Not bad, Martine thought, noting the bodies of twelve dead gnolls. It was anyone's guess how many of the dog-men had been injured, but the number was significant.
'°That should hold them for a while," Vid murmured as he and Martine sprawled against the logs to rest. The man's relief was obvious.
"Can you be sure?" the woman asked.
"It would stop me. They'll fall back out of bow range and then dig in, but I don't think they'll try another direct assault"
With the fierce skirmish ended, a gnomish woman was cautiously making the rounds with bowls of hot porridge. The Harper had almost forgotten what hot food-tasty food-was like. Pulling off her mittens, she greedily scooped the warm gruel into her mouth with her fingers She could feel her energy returning.
As the defenders sat in the snow eating, an echo of gnoll voices reached them. Nervous, the Vani gut down their bowls and scurried to battle positions, awaiting another attack.
Nothing happened, however. In vain, they watched the tree line for the gnolls to rush into view. Even the sporadic rain of arrows stopped.
"little people!" a voice barked suddenly from somewhere beyond the barricade. "You fight well today. You make worthy enemies.
"Listen, tittle people. Our chieftain is gone, and we do not want to kill any more of you. We leave now in peace. Do not try to follow us. We will know if you do. No more war between us, little people. Agreed?" The words faded, laving only the silence of the trees creaking in the wind.
The Vani clung to their barricade in stunned disbelief. 'Then Ojakangas cut short any debate by standing up and shouting, "Go back to your valley, dog-men, and we will make peace!"
"We go. It is cold here, and your little tunnels are too small for us. We leave a guard to make sure you keep peace. Do not leave cabin, or we kill you all."
"It's a trick," Jouka said grimly.
"No trick, little one," said Krote. The gnoll stood in the cabin doorway where he had listened to the exchange. 'Ihe shaman looked at the bodies of the Burnt Fur, still sprawled over the barricade where they had been cut down. "You have killed many warriors," the gnoll said with a touch of sadness. "There will be many females without mates." The Word-Maker went from body to body, turning each so he could see it. "Blind-Eye. Rakk. Broken-Tooth. Fat Belly." Krote recited the roll of the dead. "That was Varka who spoke," he said finally. "He must be new Word-Maker. If he says peace, there will be peace."