Kagonesti

Chapter 4

Kagonos jumped back, feeling tbe swish of air as the mighty weapon slashed past his torso. The blade clanged against a rock, bouncing back in a lightning-fast parry-even before the wild elf could raise his axe for an attack. The huge ogre lunged forward to block the cave entrance, and the Elderwild had no choice but to fall back another step, though his eyes probed beyond the brute's shoulder, looking for some telltale gleam of blue. For now Kagonos saw only blackness, though he got an impression of shadowy aicoves and twisting passages. Certainly there was more to this shelter than first met his eye-but he wouldn't be able to explore it unless he disposed of the menacing jgre.

The monster roared, fetid breath washing over the elf as Kagonos ducked into a fighting crouch. His axe, normally such a potent and deadly weapon, seemed a frail counter to the ogre's crushing blade-one solid parry, he knew, and the wooden haft would splinter like kindling.

The ogre's face twisted into a mask of hatred, bloodshot eyes glittering wickedly as it sensed the elf's weakness. The brute took another step forward, pushing rocks out of the way with its shoulders as it forced its way through the narrow cave mouth. A grotesque tongue licked across the ogre's sagging lips, while its twin, yellowed tusks gleamed with drool.

Kagonos retreated again, forced backward by a slashing blow. The monster sensed an advantage and lunged outward, shaking dust from its shoulders and roaring in fury and anticipated triumph. The sword slashed again, and the Pathfinder used his axe in a parry-fortunately the steel head deflected the great bronzed blade, the shaft holding firm.

This time the ogre overreached and the elf hacked a return stroke, carving a bloody gouge in the monster's shoulder. Howling furiously, the beast whipped around with a savage backswing. Kagonos ducked, knowing that the blow had enough force to hack his head from his shoulders. Springing upright again the elf chopped with the spiked reverse side of his axe head, driving the sharp steel tip into the ogre's knee and drawing a shrill bellow of pain and outrage.

Shaking free of the enclosing boulders, the ogre climbed out of the narrow cave entrance, stabbing its sword at the dodging, dancing elf. Kagonos chopped, bashing away the thrusts of the off-balance ogre, while the beast limped on the weakened knee, fury undiminished.

Once on the open ground of the hilltop, the ogre stood tall, seizing the hilt of the sword in both its mighty hands. Kagonos realized with a jolt of surprise that he had never seen such a huge specimen of the brutal warriors-the monster loomed half again as high as the elf, and the

Eiderwild's arms could not have come close to encircling the girth of the mighty beast's muscular shoulders.

The ogre, too, seemed to sense its immense physical advantage. The thick lips curled upward in a cruel sneer, while the yellow tusks gleamed-as if anticipating the taste of its victim's blood. With a grunting curse, the brute raised the sword over its head, bringing the weapon down in a crashing blow.

Feinting to the right and then rolling left, Kagonos saw a boulder crushed to gravel as the monstrous blade smashed into the ground to the elf's side. Bouncing to his reet, the Pathfinder slashed at the ogre's unprotected rlank. The monster spun with surprising agility, however, and Kagonos tumbled backward, barely avoiding a wicked sideways slash as he landed heavily on the rocks.

The ogre lunged closer as Kagonos frantically rolled to the side again, then reversed his evasion as the monster once more chopped savagely in the direction of the elf's feint. The diversion gave him enough time to leap to his feet, though the wild elf was again forced to dance sideways to avoid the brute's pressing attack.

For a moment, the two combatants circled each other. Countless savage melees raged around the hilltop as individual ogres and elves remained locked in mortal combat, while the cries of wounded ogres and the clash of steel against bronze rang through the air. Kagonos knew that none of his tribesmen could come to his aid. The ogre sensed this and lunged eagerly after the light-footed elf.

Kagonos feinted left, this time following with a tip of his head to the right and then a full-fledged dive back to the left. The ogre was shrewd enough to anticipate the first fake, committing all of its force to a crushing blow against the rocks where it expected the elf to go.

The warrior's evasion was so successful that Kagonos bounced to his feet behind the monster's right shoulder. Sensing disaster, the ogre tried to spin, but it was no match for the wild elf's speed. Kagonos hacked with the blade of his axe, chopping into the monster's neck. With groan, it stumbled to one knee, struggling to rise as blood spilled down its chest in a growing apron of gore.

The Pathfinder chopped again, reversing his weapon to drive the spike of his axe head into the base of the ogre's skull. The monster stiffened soundlessly, twisting away from the blow to sprawl, dead, on the rocks of the hilltop.

Kagonos didn't waste time looking around the perimeter, where he could hear that numerous individual battles still raged. Instead he all but dove through the mouth of the unconcealed cave, tripping on the loose rock in the entryway and then crouching in sudden caution. He realized belatedly that, had a second ogre been hiding in the shadowy interior, the sun-blinded elf would have been an easy kill.

The only sounds came to him from the desperate skirmish outside. Though the cave's interior was shrouded in shadow, Kagonos trusted the sensitivity of his ears in assuming that he was alone within the darkened interior. Besides, any lurking ogre would have been shrewd enough to attack him immediately, not giving him the time to adjust to the darkness.

Probing with his left hand and feeling cautiously along the floor with his feet, Kagonos worked his way along a shadowy passage. Elven eyesight is keen in the dark, and he quickly discerned additional details about his surroundings. Several small passages branched to either side, but all of these would have been a tight fit for even a slender ogre. The wild elf, assuming that the brutes would have spurned these tight squeezes in favor of the more spacious central corridor, continued to advance.

Heart pounding, Kagonos darted around a corner, seeing nothing but the continuance of the winding passage. Where was the Bluestone? He scarcely dared to breathe, so intent was he on the search-and so acutely conscious of the importance of the potent artifact.

Abruptly a flash of azure light caught his eye, and Kagonos knelt among the rubble within a narrow alcove. Desperately he clawed at the stones, pulling large rocks free with sharp tugs, excavating a steadily growing hole. The faint but noticeable illumination grew stronger, clearly blue. There was no doubt in his mind that he had found it: the thing that had made this attack necessary, and whose recovery would provide the means to win the Dragon War.

Grunting from the strain, he pulled a large boulder out of the way, and finally the treasure lay revealed. Kagonos paused, vaguely surprised-and disappointed. He had expected to find a magnificent jewel, smooth and bright, gleaming from a multitude of facets like the gems he had seen cut and polished by the jewelers among the House Elves.

Instead, he found himself looking at a stone of irregular shape, dirty and scuffed-an oblong rock that was nevertheless as large as his head. Though the azure illumination glowed from within the rock, the surface itself was dull, stained, and pockmarked. The Bluestone was a jagged, knobby stone that lacked the polish and glimmer of the carefully sculpted jewels used by elves and ogres for ornamentation. No jeweler had touched tool to this stone, and in places dirt and a crust of lichen tried to obscure its inner heart.

Yet in this they could not succeed, for the Bluestone pulsed with a light that would not be quenched. Carefully, reverently, Kagonos reached down and took the stone, surprised by its unnatural warmth. The hair on his scalp prickled upward as the stone's aura seemed to crackle in the air around him.

How many elves of his tribe had died that he might now hold this stone in his hands? He thought, with a bitter pang, of Dall, of his own inability to save his brother's life. It was a failure that would haunt him, he knew, for the rest of his years. Had it been worth the price-of Dall, and of all the other wild elves who would never descend, alive, from this bloodstained hilltop?

Countless ogres had died, too, in the fight. Would those monstrous warriors feel as though their lives had been wasted? The Elderwild shrugged away the question, telling himself that the thoughts of his enemies were of no concern to him. Still the wonder remained, tugging at his thoughts.

Cradling the precious artifact in his arms, Kagonos emerged from the narrow cave mouth.

Vaguely he heard the cries of battle still ringing around the camp and realized that the ogres had been prepared to flee and leave this precious artifact behind.

"Let them go," he said quietly, waving his hand dismis- sively toward the knot of terrified survivors. Scowling in perplexity, but not questioning their Pathfinder's command, the Elderwild warriors fell back. Like creatures of one mind, the ogres stampeded away from the cairn, scrambling over the crude wall and plunging through the deep snow.

Kagonos held the heavy gemstone, awestruck at its reputed power. Would they get it to Silvanos in time? He didn't know how the power of the stone was invoked, but he felt certain that the stone had to be nearby when the blue dragons arrived. If such an ambush could be arranged, the artifact would imprison the souls of the dragons within the stone-and the last wing of the Dark Queen's serpents would be vanquished. But it would take the rest of the day to march down from this mountain, and another day or more to reach the elven army on the plain.

Unless a faster means could be found.

Instinctively the elf raised his eyes to the sky. A speck appeared, soaring closer with powerful wing strokes, and with bittersweet satisfaction Kagonos saw that the transportation of the gem, at least, would be taken care of by an emissary of Silvanos.

The flying creature was a griffon, and the trailing golden hair of the rider clearly marked him as an elf. The great eagle wings spread into a soaring dive, while the beaked mouth of the griffon opened in a wide, shrieking cry. The animal's hindquarters, muscular and feline, covered with sleek brown fur, absorbed the shock of the landing as easily as a pouncing lion's. The griffon's forelegs, feathered and taloned like the limbs of a great eagle, came lightly to rest on the rocks. The creature pranced back and forth between these avian feet, allowing its powerful hind legs to absorb most of its weight.

Even before Kagonos saw the rider, he knew who it was. The wild elf struggled to swallow the hatred that had lingered from centuries before, though his emotions surged as strongly as if the enchanted arrow had pierced Darlantan's body only a week ago.

"Greetings, Quithas," Kagonos said stiffly. He did not bow.

The elven warrior, his golden hair flying in the breeze, his golden breastplate sparkling in the sun, dismounted and swept his eyes over the bloody hilltop. With loathing, the Pathfinder recognized the crossed claws of the griffon emblazoned on the gilded shield.

"Silvanos placed his army in considerable danger, based on the word of the dragon Darlantan. I hope that you have made the risk worthwhile."

"We did-if you can get him this gemstone before it's too late."

"You killed many ogres, I see-somewhat surprising, given your primitive weapons and tactics," Quithas remarked, as if he hadn't heard the wild elf.

"We regained the Bluestone-the gem that was lost by the House Elves. Now, take it to Silvanos before it is too iate."

The timing is good," Quithas allowed, reaching out and taking the gem. He barely looked at it before tucking it into a deep saddlebag. "The blue dragons winged into sight this morning, but that silver wyrm-Darlantan- ent aloft to fight them. I should think he would be able to delay their attack until my return."

Abruptly the golden-haired elf spun around to face Kagonos. Face flushed, Quithas dropped his eyes to the stiver axe, now cleaned, that swung at the wild elf's hip. The Pathfinder was strangely unsettled by the dramatic alteration in the House Elf's mood.

"I see that you taunt me with my axe. One day we will not be allies, Wild Elf. Then 1 shall kill you and take it back."

Without a backward glance the elven commander leapt again into the saddle of his proud flying steed. Sensing its master's tension, the griffon sprang upward, and the eagle wings quickly caught the wind and carried it aloft. Watching him shrink into the distance, Kagonos cursed Quithas for his arrogance, yet wished him all the speed in the world on his mission. Darlantan was powerful, but how long could he do battle with a host of blues, the immortal children of Takhisis?

"My Pathfinder…" The voice belonged to Felltree, the young chieftain of the Black Feather tribe. Kagonos knew that he had displayed a great deal of courage in the past. Now Felltree's voice was tight, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

Then, in a withering storm of despair, Kagonos knew why. The warrior bore a bleeding, lifeless form in his arms. The Pathfinder didn't need to look closely to recognize the body of his brother Kyrill.