Horns sounded behind them. There was a grinding sound as if a great stone gate was being opened. The sounds of dwarf battle-cries rang across the plaza with the clangour of weapon upon weapon.
“Ferik has sallied forth,” Verlek shouted in Kormak’s ear. There was something like pure, unrestrained joy in his voice. The dwarf seemed drunk on killing. “I knew he would not be able to resist joining in such a fray!”
Much good that will do us, Kormak thought, unless we can join him. A quick glance back over his shoulder showed him that a flying wedge of heavily armed dwarves charging the goblin forces. “Back!” he shouted and began to cut a path through towards their rescuers. Boreas and Verlek followed.
The dwarves smashed through the confused goblins like the prow of a ship breaking through a wave. They left piles of dead and broken bodies around them. All of the dwarves were half-naked and made savage by their runic tattoos. Some of those glowed in the darkness as if focusing magical powers. The male dwarves were for the most part broader and more muscular even than Verlek, with longer beards that swirled around them as they fought. The females were just as underdressed and just as tattooed and they fought alongside the males with even greater fury.
Their chanting had taken on a resemblance to some great, strange song, like that of the galley slaves Kormak had once served among as they rowed. The dwarves moved in time to the chant, struck their blows on its beats. Their song seemed to bind them into one mighty, multi-limbed organism.
Comet trails descended from the walls again, explosions tore the further points of the goblin lines. Under the sheer force of the dwarven attack, their pursuers turned tail and fled, leaving Kormak and his companions to confront the angry, uncomprehending glares of the dwarves across the blood-soaked paving stones of the battlefield.
The tide of goblins flowed back across the bridge, scuttling as fast as their legs could carry them, the few surviving wolves leading the retreat. The dwarves chased them down, slaughtering those they caught. Some of the dwarves were going around the battlefield, severing goblin heads and collecting them. Bones splintered and spines snapped as they did so.
Kormak found himself confronting the largest dwarf he had seen so far. This one came almost to his throat and was far broader than Verlek, seeming almost as wide as he was tall. His tattooed arms were like tree-trunks and he held a great pick in one hand and an axe in the other. His beard reached almost to the ground even when he stood straight and it rippled like a nest of snakes. The dwarf’s ears twitched and his blank-seeming gaze met Kormak’s levelly.
“I knew you would not be able to resist such a fight, Ferik sire,” said Verlek happily. He seemed mightily pleased with himself, as if he had sprung a surprise party purely for the benefit of this huge dwarf champion. The massive dwarf bent over and severed a goblin head with a short savage chop of his axe. He did not once take his eyes off Kormak.
“You have caused a lot of trouble, youngling,” said Ferik. There was an undertone of exasperated affection as well as controlled anger in his tone. “What new trouble have you brought on the Hold now?”
Ferik’s eyes were fixed on Kormak’s blade. His beard rippled towards the Guardian, as if reaching out in his direction. Kormak sensed the tremendous power in this dwarf and the explosive violence. He realised it would not take too much to have it directed at him.
“I have blood-debt to these men,” said Verlek.
“You have blood-debt to Shadow worshipers?” The anger in that great booming voice outweighed the affection. There was suspicion in Ferik’s expression now. He tilted his head to one side as he examined the younger dwarf.
“I am not a Shadow worshipper,” said Kormak. “I am a champion of the Holy Sun.”
The strange dark eyes turned to regard Kormak. The lips tightened, revealing tombstone teeth in a mirthless grin. “You will speak when spoken to, man, or you will die. I am having words with my son. When I am done, I will have words for you.”
Kormak took a tight rein on his own anger. He was not used to being talked to in such a fashion but he was surrounded by the dwarves and he needed their help.
“He slew the Slitherer, father,” said Verlek. “He has killed many goblins. You have seen it with your own eyes. He can take many skulls.”
“The followers of the Shadow are cunning and given to many deceptions,” said another dwarf from nearby. He was not as large as Ferik and his face was leaner. There was something about the set of his mouth that did not seem quite right, that gave his face a sneering look. Kormak could see that this dwarf had a severed goblin head in each hand. He was holding them by their ears.