精灵血脉四部曲-第51部分

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ll　dart　from　the　side　of　his　neck。

The　two　slid　to　a　stop；　no　darkened　globe　fell　over　them　and　no　draw　were　in　sight；　though　both　seasoned　warriors　understood　the　many　hiding　places　the　stalagmite　mounds　might　offer　their　enemies。

〃Was　it　poisoned？〃　Gandalug　asked　with　grave　concern；　knowing　the　sinister　reputation　of　draw　darts。

Crommower　looked　at　the　small　quarrel　curiously；　then　put　its　tip　to　his　lips　and　sucked　hard；　furrowing　his　bushy　eyebrows　contemplatively　and　smacking　his　lips　as　he　studied　the　taste。

〃Yup；〃　he　announced　and　threw　the　dart　over　his　shoulder。

〃Our　enemies　are　not　far；〃　Gandalug　said；　glancing　all　around。＇奇＋书＋网＇

〃Bah；　they　probably　runned　away；〃　snickered　Crommower。　〃Too　bad；　too。　Me　helm's　getting　rusty。　Could　use　a　bit　o'　skinny　elf　blood　to　grease　it　proper。　Ow！〃　The　battlerager　growled　suddenly　and　grasped　at　a　new　dart；　this　one　sticking　from　his　shoulder；　Following　its　up…angled　line；　Gandalug　understood　the　trap—draw　elves　were　not　hiding　among　the　stalagmites；　but　were　up　above；　levitating　among　the　stalactites！

〃Separate！〃　the　battlerager　cried。　He　grabbed　Gandalug　and　heaved　him　away。　Normally；　dwarves　would　have　stayed　together；　fought　back…to…back；　but　Gandalug　understood　and　agreed　with　Crommower's　reasoning。　More　than　one　friendly　dwarf　had　taken　a　glove　nail　or　a　knee　spike　when　wild　Crommower　went　into　his　fighting　frenzy。

Several　of　the　dark　elves　descended　swiftly；　weapons　drawn；　and　Crommower　Pwent；　with　typical　battlerager　intensity；　went　berserk。　He　hopped　all　around；　slamming　elves　and　stalagmites；　skewering　one　draw　in　the　belly　with　his　helmet　spike；　then　cursing　his　luck　as　the　dying　draw　got　stuck。　Bent　over　as　he　was；　Crommower　took　several　slashing　hits　across　his　back；　but　he　only　roared　in　rage；　flexed　his　considerable　muscles　and　straightened；　taking　the　unfortunate；　impaled　draw　along　for　the　ride。

With　Crommower's　insanity　occupying　most　of　the　enemy　force；　Gandalug　did　well　initially。　He　faced　off　against　two　draw　females。　The　old　dwarf　was　quite　taken　with　how　beautiful　these　evil　creatures　were；　their　features　angled；　but　not　sharp；　their　hair　more　lustrous　than　a　well…groomed　dwarven　lady's　beard；　and　their　eyes　so　very　intense。　That　observation　didn't　slow　Gandalug's　desire　to　gash　the　skin　off　the　draw　faces；　though；　and　he　whipped　his　battle…axe　back　and　forth；　battering　aside　shields　and　blocking　weapons　alike；　forcing　the　females　back。

But　then　Gandalug　grimaced　in　pain；　once；　again；　and　then　a　third　time；　as　some　unseen　missiles　scorched　into　his　back。　Magical　energy　slipped　through　his　fine　plate　armor　and　bit　at　his　skin。　A　moment　later；　the　old　graybeard　heard　Crommower　growl　in　rage　and　sputter；　〃Damn　wizard！〃　He　knew　then　that　his　friend　had　been　similarly　assaulted。

Crommower　spotted　the　magic…thrower　from　under　the　dangling　legs　of　the　now…dead　draw　impaled　on　his　helmet。　〃I　hates　wizards；〃　he　grumbled　and　began　punching　his　way　toward　the　distant　draw。

The　wizard　said　something　in　a　language　that　Crommower　could　not　understand；　but　he　should　have　caught　on　when　the　six　dark　elves　he　was　fighting　suddenly　parted　ranks；　opening　a　direct　line　between　Crommower　and　the　wizard。

Crommower　was　not　in　any　rational　state；　though；　consumed　as　he　was　by　the　battle　rage；　the　bloodlust。　Thinking　to　get　a　clear　punch　at　the　wizard；　he　charged　ahead；　the　dead　draw　flopping　atop　his　helm。　The　battlerager　took　no　note　of　the　wizard's　chanting；　no　note　of　the　metal　rod　the　draw　held　out　before　him。

Then　Crommower　was　flying；　blinded　by　a　sudden　flash　and　hurled　backward　by　the　energy　of　a　lightning　bolt。　He　slammed　a　stalagmite　hard　and　slid　down　to　the　seat　of　his　pants。

〃I　hates　wizards；〃　the　dwarf　muttered　a　second　time；　and　he　heaved　the　dead　draw　off　his　head；　leaped　up；　and　charged　again；　smoking　and　fuming。

He　dipped　his　head；　put　his　helmet　spike　in　line；　and　thrust　forward　furiously；　bouncing　off　mounds；　his　armor　scraping　and　squealing。　The　other　dark　elves　he　had　been　fighting　came　in　at　his　sides；　slashing　with　fine　swords；　banging　with　enchanted　maces　as　the　battlerager　plowed　through　the　gauntlet；　and　blood　ran　freely　from　several　wounds。

Crommower's　single　cry　continued　without　interruption；　if　he　felt　the　wounds　at　all；　he　did　not　show　it。　Rage；　focused　directly　on　the　draw　wizard；　consumed　him。

The　wizard　realized　then　that　his　warriors　would　not　be　able　to　stop　the　insane　creature。　He　called　on　his　innate　magic；　hoping　that　these　outrageous　dwarf…things　couldn't　fly；　and　began　to　levitate　from　the　floor。

Gandalug　heard　the　motion　behind　him　and　winced　every　time　it　sounded　as　though　Crommower　took　a　hit。　But　the　old　graybeard　could　do　little　to　help　his　friend。　These　draw　females　were　surprisingly　good　fighters；　working　in　perfect　concert　and　parrying　all　his　attacks；　even　managing　to　get　in　a　few　hits　of　their　own；　one　slashing　with　a　cruelly　edged　sword；　the　other　whipping　a　fiercely　glowing　mace。　Gandalug　bled　in　several　places；　though　none　of　the　wounds　was　serious。

As　the　three　settled　into　a　dancing　rhythm；　the　mace…wielder　stepped　back　from　the　fight　and　began　an　incantation。

〃No；　ye　don't；〃　Gandalug　whispered；　and　he　drove　hard　into　the　sword…wielder；　forcing　her　into　a　clinch。　The　slender　draw　was　no　physical　match　for　the　tough　dwarf's　sheer　strength；　and　Gandalug　heaved　her　back；　to　collide　with　her　panion　and　disrupt　the　spell。

On　came　the　old　graybeard；　the　First　King　of　Mithril　Hall；　battering　the　two　with　his　emblazoned　shield；　slamming　them　with　the　foaming　mug　standard　of　the　clan　he　had　founded。

Back　down　the　corridor；　Crommower　turned　to　the　side；　virtually　ran　up　a　stalagmite；　and　leaped　high；　his　helmet　spike　driving　into　the　rising　wizard's　knee；　splintering　the　kneecap　and　cutting　right　out　the　back　of　the　leg。

The　wizard　screamed　in　agony。　His　levitation　was　strong　enough　to　hold　them　both　aloft；　and　in　the　blur　of　pain；　the　frightfully　wounded　draw　couldn't　think　to　release　the　spell。　They　hung　weirdly　in　midair；　the　wizard　clutching　his　leg；　his　hands　weak　with　pain；　and　Crommower　thrashing　from　side　to　side；　destroying　the　leg　and　punching　up　with　his　glove　nails。　He　smiled　as　he　sank　them　deep　into　the　draw's　thighs。

A　rain　of　warm　blood　descended　over　the　battlerager；　feeding　his　frenzy。

But　the　other　draw　were　under　Crommower；　and　he　was　not　that　high　from　the　ground。　He　tried　to　tuck　his　legs　under　him　as　swords　slashed　his　feet。　He　jerked　then；　and　understood　that　this　would　be　his　final　battle；　as　one　draw　produced　a　long　lance　and　stuck　it　hard　into　the　battlerager's　kidney。

The　mace…wielder　fell　back　again；　around　a　corner；　and　Gandalug　closed　quickly　on　the　female　with　the　sword。　He　moved　as　if　he　would　shield　rush　again；　close　in　tight；　and　heave　her　back　as　he　had　done　before。　The　crafty　old　dwarf　pulled　up　short；　though；　and　fell　low；　his　wicked　axe　ing　across　and　sweeping　the　draw's　feet　out　from　under　her。　Gandalug　fell　over　her　in　an　instant；　accepting　one　nasty　stick　from　the　sword；　and　dishing　out　a　head…splitting　chop　in　exchange。

He　looked　up　just　in　time　to　see　a　magical　hammer　appear　in　midair　before　him　and　whack　him　across　the　face。　Gandalug　shifted　his　thick　tongue　about　curiously；　then　spit　out　a　tooth；　staring　incredulously　at　the　young—and　this　draw　was　indeed　young—female。

〃Ye　got　to　be　kidding；〃　the　old　graybeard　remarked。　He　hardly　noticed　that　the　female　had　already　launched　a　second　spell；　pulling　the　tooth　to　her　waiting　fingers　with　a　magically　conjured　hand。

The　magical　hammer　continued　its　assault；　scoring　a　second　hit　on　the　side　of　Gandalug's　head　as　he　straightened　over　the　draw。　〃Ye're　dead；〃　he　promised　the　young　female；　smiling　wickedly。　His　mirth　was　stolen；　though；　when　a　resounding　scream　split　the　air。　Gandalug　had　seen　many　fierce　battles；　he　knew　a　death　cry　when　he　heard　it；　and　he　knew　that　this　one　had　e　from　a　dwarf。

He　spent　an　instant　steadying　himself；　reminding　himself　that　he　and　old　Crommower　had　fully　expected　that　this　would　be　their　last　journey。　When　he　focused　ahead　once　more；　he　saw　that　the　young　female　had　retreated　farther　around　the　bend；　and　he　heard　her　chanting　softly。　Gandalug　knew　that　other　dark　elves　would　soon　be　at　his　back；　but　he　determined　then　that　they　would　find　their　two　female　panions　dead。　The　stubborn　dwarf　stalked　ahead；　heedless　of　whatever　magic　the　young　draw　might　have　waiting　for　him。

He　spotted　her；　standing　vulnerable　in　the　middle　of　the　passage；　eyes　closed；　hands　by　her　side；　as　he　rounded　the　corner。　In　charged　the　old　graybeard—to　be　intercepted　by　a　sudden　whirlwind；　a　vortex　that　encircled　him；　stopped　him；　and　held　him　in　place。

〃What're　ye　about？〃　Gandalug　roared。　He　fought　wildly　against　the　cunning　magic；　but　could　not　break　free　of　its　stubborn　grasp；　could　not　even　shuffle　his　feet　toward　the　devious　female。

Then　Gandalug　felt　a　horrid　sensation　deep　within　his　breast。　He　could　no　longer　feel　the　whipping　of　the　cyclone；　but　its　winds　continued；　as　if　they　had　somehow　found　a　way　to　pass　through　his　skin。　Gandalug　felt　a　tug　at　his　soul；　felt　as　though　his　insides　were　being　ripped　out。

〃What're　ye　。　。。　？〃　he　started　to　ask　again；　but　his　words　disappeared　into　blabber　as　he　lost　control　of　his　lips；　lost　control　of　all　his　body。　He　floated　helplessly　toward　the　draw；　toward　her　extended　hand　and　a　curious　item—what　was　it？　he　wondered。　What　was　she　holding？

His　tooth。

Then　there　was　only　white　emptiness。　From　a　great　distance　Gandalug　heard　the　chatter　of　dark　elves；　and　he　found　one　last　view　as　he　looked　back。　A　body—his　body！—lay　dead　on　the　floor；　surrounded　by　several　dark　elves。

His　body…



*　*　*　*　*



The　dwarf　ghost　teetered　weakly　as　he　came　out　of　the　dream；　the　nightmare；　that　cruel　Yvonnel　Baenre；　that　devious　young　female；　had　once　again　forced　upon　him。　Baenre　knew　that　those　recollections　were　the　most　horrid　torture　she　could　exact　upon　the　stubborn　dwarf；　and　she　did　so　often。

Now　Gandalug　stared　at　her　with　utter　hatred。　Here　they　were；　nearly　two　thousand　years　later；　two　thousand　years　of　an　empty　white　prison　and　terrible　memories　that　poor　Gandalug　could　not　escape。

〃When