We marched for several hours, to a higher place on the road, much closer to the mountain's roots than Thavis and I had gone. Two of the bowmen, reputed the best trackers in our group, had gone on ahead. Returning, they reported a hunt-hole in the open area no more than two hundred meters beyond.

"We saw eight Burlies up there, and two things, monsters what were glowing green like. Vicious looking and big, the both of em."

Sir Conner took ten of his men aside, then sent them into the woods. Soon two good sized fallen trees were dragged out and positioned across the road, about fifteen feet apart. More chunky pieces of limb and bracken followed, to be piled on until two thick barricades were built, both higher than a man stood. Sir Connor contemplated the results then assigned two others with axes to cut a small cunning passage through each pile, so that a man, if he knew where to start, could work his way through each one, but not so clear from the outside of each barricade as to be obvious. A man would have to shove aside several well foliated branches to enter the small cleared ways provided.

That done, he set archers in the trees to both sides of the barricades, and the rest of his men to wait behind the last, those with halberds to the fore, to defend it. The Mage Orton, at Connor's instruction, worked his way through the final barrier and pulling some fine dust from a bag he carried, quickly worked the spell to open a small glowing hunting hole between the two barricades as a lure. Footmen were held further back to the rear in reserve, should any pass the gauntlet. All were warned to target the larger beasts first. Chord pulled a smaller sack from his bag, passing it to Sir Connor.

"A poison for your archers. It works on Burlies, at least. I don't use it myself, on our hunts. But it may help with the transformed beasts. Be sparse with it, that small sack's the lot."

"Give the treated arrows to your best and have them deliver those shafts first," Orton recommended. "I think the toxins might take some time to show an effect on the creatures."

I walked up to the rude barricade and made a few attempts at it. It was more solid than I would have guessed save for the small, obscured passage that had been cut through it. "It doesn't really matter if they find the break and have sense enough to use it." noted Conner. "Only the smallest could struggle through and only then one at a time, right into the killing zone between. If things go badly later we can retreat to this redoubt, and use it again.

"Havaine! Deermoot! Campion!" Sir Connor bawled out the names of three archers, who came at the run. They divided six treated shafts between them, and then hurried back into the trees to take their positions. Then he called three Javelin equipped runners forward. "You three! Go forward and play at Foxes and Drakes with the beasts. Lead them back here and into the killing field. Mind the passage, and the thorns." The three runners turned and ran on toward the infested site.

"You and Thavis," he barked at me, "stay back with the halberdiers for now." Faint shouts and furious keening marked the runners' return, heralding success in baiting the animals, and in less than three minutes, the men broke back onto the road before us. One runner stopped, to turn and release a spear while the other two raced on for fifteen meters or so. Then these turned and waited, while the first took to his heels.

The lone runner, now close to the first barricade, dove into the cut hole. The remaining pair pulled up javelins and stepped forward into their casts, then turned and ran for it, just as the Burlies loped into sight. One beast, pawing at a shattered javelin protruding from its side, pounded forward snarling only to confront the crude barrier. The lure of Orton's opened portal began working its magic on them, for they immediately attacked the first barrier, striving to pass it. Six others, howling and keening, also made for the barricade as the archers posted in the trees drew back upon their bows. A dark withering of shafts flew with a whispering sound, cutting down three of the creatures immediately, including the speared one who, shafted through the head, flipped backward, killed while struggling to climb over the improvised wall.

I was surprised the runners had managed to tear so many creatures away from the seeded portals. My experience with them suggested that you had to be close. Once under the influence of an open portal, most would remain near the holes, unless directly assaulted. This behavior did not seem to pertain to the changed monstrosities confronting us though, which was the worst problem. The bravery of the runners in baiting them into our trap held my respect. Mage Orton had opened a tiny portal between the barricades so by the time the Burlies had obtained some distance from the call of Veddick's malicious ones they were in range to become mesmerized by Orton's, and so continued on.

The incredible forms of two transmogrified monstrosities hove into view, red eyes scanning the barricades with intelligence not apparent in the onslaught of smaller Burlies. The giants seemed to direct the horde, roaring and working the bulk of them into a fury.

The Burlies scrambled ahead, throwing themselves onto the bracken wall interest fixed on the glowing spot between the two obstacles. Flights from the sides were continuous but the three selected archers immediately targeted the two giants, hitting their eyes and necks with all six treated shafts. A dark wall of fletched death continued to pour down and shafts fell in a swarm upon them. The larger beasts roared and reeled, heading off road toward the flanking archers and cover.

"This is not good at all," noted Sir Connor, who shouted for the archers most forward to withdraw.

I saw at least one of the men as he jumped, or fell from his perch hitting the ground tumbling, bow broken, but he rose again to limp back toward the second group of tree sitting archers, those situated to fire into the killing zone between the barricades. Most of these redirected their fire at the two towering things. These slowed, but still continued through the wood on each side, avoiding the barricades. Finally Sir Conner shouted again, and the remaining flankers scrambled back speedily.

I reached across my back to draw the Corm Da, but Chord placed his hand on my shoulder saying, "Wait. It will not be necessary."

The huge figures in the wood were reeling and one fell, the light in its eyes gone out. The second stumbled about in the hurricane of arrows a few moments more and then it also fell, bringing down several small trees with it. Only three of the Burlies had made it through the first barricade and those now lie dead, looking like porcupines, with arrows for quills.

"I didn't realize thirty archers could release that many arrows in such a short time."

Chord glanced at me, saying, "A good archer can nock and release up to five shafts every long ten count or so, with some accuracy. Thirty professional bowmen will flight on average somewhat less; say only 250 arrows per minute between them unless pressed. Still, more than enough for this lot."

As I contemplated this, Connor shouted "Forward the field!" and our footmen advanced into the killing zone. They rolled each corpse over with kicks administering final justice where required. After, the Archers walked among them retrieving spent shafts, inspecting these, selecting the best for return to their quivers. We lost only one archer to a bad fall. Regrettable, and time was taken to see his remains were prepared to transport back to Corbell. I did not know him, but it was sobering. Doubtless there would be more than one family in mourning before the night ended.

Soon the action was sorted out. The two mages closed up all the portals and we advanced again, taking to the road that now wound its way around the base of the mount Esh. Both Thavis and I had instructed Sir Connor as to where in general we had seen the open glows of the Portals, and most of the lighter armed scouts had been sent ahead to nail down the exact positions. These appeared, reported and vanished into the wild as the bulk of us trudged onward. We passed a trail, which threaded and snaked its way upwards.

Orton saw me glance at it, and commented, "we will return here when the road is freed of the black vermin. I still want to know what you see and feel up there."

I responded with a grimace, then said, "Almost, I'm not sure I care to find out anymore. Some things are better left be."

"That would have been my advice to you also if asked far earlier than things have gone by now. As it is, I think this attack doubles as an effort to keep us off Mt. Esh and I don't think we can refuse the gambit."

Internally I disagreed. It might be curious and interesting to walk into a lion's den too. That didn't make it a good idea, whether other people encouraged it or not.

A second hole was discovered in a canyon that swept up towards the mountain.

Connor put Thavis in charge of two scouts, and with a grin at me, he led them silently into the surrounding woods. In a few minutes he reappeared, moving towards me with a fluid ease that left me envious. He passed a hand through his dark hair and confirmed, "This place is also infested. We counted thirteen, plus two more of those giant glowing things. It's a small dell, so there is plenty of high ground to both sides of the portal." He cut the air to the left and right with his hands in illustration. "It's a natural box, with high rills to the north and south, the mountain backing it."

Conner sent his bowmen clambering up along the ridge crests, and a score of footmen scoured dry bracken to build a huge pile running the hundred-fifty foot width of the divide. Luckily the canyon was deep and we were downwind, out of sight. True to form the sound of our preparations did not raise their interest. The beasts continued to mill about their precious portals as we felled trees and stacked bracken.

I was stacking cut branches when the runners reappeared, stumbling through the strewn debris of our work. Connor spoke with them then called out to me. "William! The Bowmen are positioned. Set the fire."

I shoved flame dripping pitch brands deep into the pile. It crackled and billowed swiftly into a wall of snapping hot flame. The result was blistering. I turned my face away from the sting of it and retreated, coughing from the smoke and fumes. The blaze acted as a signal for the canyon bowmen, who began peppering the creatures with shafts. The driven Burlies raced towards our end to escape the withering downpour of arrows, only to be confronted by the wall of raging flame.

While there was not enough growth on the slopes to propagate the fire, the canyon floor was another story, and all of Connor's remaining footmen were deployed to create a firebreak at the open end to contain its spread. The burning bracken, dry or not, was mostly from spruce or pine like trees heavy with tars and burnable oils, so the mounded fire raged high into the night.

The lashing flames drove us back and on the ridge tops even our archers were soon forced to retreat farther up slope, by the sheer heat and oily smoke. The burlies downwind reeled and fell by the dozens, asphyxiated or roasted alive. The two demon-spawned monstrosities, glowing hides singed black and reeling in pain still managed to push through the burn. With the footmen behind us occupied controlling the fire, only Connor, Thavis and myself were left to confront them.

All three of us instinctively drew steel. This time, the Corm Da warmed instantly to my hand, and my mind sank behind my eyes as a stone dropped into a well. The sight of the two demonic forms became emotionally distant from me. The blade whirled to life in a blur, till it seemed like a round shield of metal with my hand at its center. I felt control over my body slip away, and the mind of Credine came upon me, carrying me helplessly within it.

I strode forward with a cry. Behind me followed those as could. I did not look to see, and cared not.

Beyond the two abominations, several Burlies, those creatures spawned by the animus of my power, followed. The citrine pits of their eyes saw only that someone stood between them and the need to ground their spirits in the nearby portal . They knew me not, but my blade would soon shrive them, and join them unto me.

A Giant's polluted claws, like obsidian knives reached down to rake me, but I came on joyfully, eager to sink the Corm Da into this corrupted pool of my power and drink of it. I struck, my soul rejoicing, again and again taking back that which was mine.

Left and right I wielded the Corm Da, and separated the leg flesh from those two festered and spoiled bits of my will. They tumbled forward, crashing down, so that the world shook, and I buried my blade in them, singing as I fed and fought, dreaming the while of my land, my people, and my wondrous forge.

Credine began an ode to the working of the iron, to the purifying heat of the furnace, and the cascade of dreams he wove there. A black one came against us, and I/he pushed the blade into it, pulling it close lovingly by the shoulder, crooning to it as it gave itself back to us; then there was only the welcome heat, rising in two towers at either side. We, like flames, dancing between them.

Credine turned and saw men, and was saddened for his abandonment of them, but he was here now; soon all would be well. The god walked towards them and held the Corm Da outstretched to one side, so that it dipped into the wall of fire and was burned clean. He wiped the ash from it with my fingers and slid the blade over my back, sheathing it.

The god receeded, and the world rushed back to confront me. There was fire burning on both sides and even underfoot as I emerged from the glamor. Air, there was no air. I gasped, choking and stumbling away from a heat as intense as my forge's. The soles of my new boots were charred almost through to my feet, and I tried to stop the effort of gulping non-existent air that only poured into my mouth like acid, swelling my tongue and closing up my throat. My skin was in shock, I could almost feel it crisping away, bubbling away in the flames. The world was whirling, and I staggered forward, in a haze of pain, fell, feeling hands grasping at me, wet blankets thrown over me, pulling me away. Then nothing.

***

I awoke to see Chord putting away a skin sack, somehow knowing what that meant and grateful to have been passed out for the procedure; though equally grateful to be still alive. There was a bad taste of ash in my mouth. I rolled over retching and spitting

The ball of the sun hovered above the tips of the western treetops, and a sick, piney and smoky odor saturated everything. The bile rose again. Slowly the last events came creeping back into memory followed by a deep, chilling fear.

Chord's look changed quickly from concern to anger as I tried to pry up from the ground on one reddened forearm.

"Lie still! It's over now. Sir Connor cleaned out the last nest. You have lain here all night and all day. We lost twenty men total and almost the forest as well. Mage Orton and I have closed up the portals. Save your strength for the walk back. We leave in an hour. Be glad that Orton brought a good supply of dust."

I shook my head adamantly, both to clear away the fog of my recovery and in answer. "An hour? Where are we now? Back at the barricades?"

Chord sat back to viewed me carefully for a moment. Then he sighed and shook his head. "No. You couldn't be moved. Sir Connor felt we should stay here anyway, to be sure the fire was truly out. That, tending to the other wounded, and collecting our dead, are the only reasons we are still here. Duke Wayland sent a larger force that caught up to us early this morning. Some went off to secure the Mountain top, or at least, to discover what Felway's mage was so protective of, and more troops went north to reinforce the border. He still waits the King's will as to Mage Veddek and Duke Felway. I understand they have found MaCaan atop this rock pile, and Orton and the Duke's men await your presence there. That much should please you. Breathe--how do you feel?"

Markham, I thought blackly. "Well enough. Let me up."

Chord stood back and I staggered to my feet, sore everywhere. I took a breath, choked, and tore the charred harness and sword from my back. Across the firebreak I could see the still smoldering remains of the firewall we had built, now a long black mound of desolation. I crossed to it and threw the sword into it, far to one side of center, where it disappeared in a brief cloud of erupting ash. Had there been an ocean nearby, I would have thrown it there, but for now, it would be hidden. While I lived, no one else could move it. Something I conjured, that would not change soon.

Chord directed me toward two men at arms, who guided me back to the upward mounting path, and a confrontation with Markham.