Crimson Shadow, The - R. A. Salvatore Page 0,171

another, both on the right side of the bridge.

The brute peeking over the bridge’s left-hand side, nearest to the eastern bank, noticed something strange. The wood under here was weathered and gray, except for two pegs the cyclopian spotted: new pegs, with sawdust still clinging to their visible edge.

“Yok-ho!” called the first brute on the left, who then joined the curious cyclopian near the eastern bank, the only one who had not given the signal.

“Yok-ho?” he asked, bending low to see what had so sparked his companion’s interest.

The curious brute pointed out the new pegs.

“So?” his companion prompted. “It’s been a tough winter blow. The bridge needed fixing.”

The other cyclopian was not so certain. He had a nagging suspicion, and he wanted to crawl over the edge and snake in for a closer look. His companion wasn’t thrilled with that idea, though.

“Call out yok-ho,” the one-eye insisted.

“But the peg—”

“If you don’t call it out, we’ll be turning south,” the other growled.

“If it falls—” the curious cyclopian tried to explain, but again he was cut short.

“Then those on it will tumble down,” the other replied. “But those who get across, and we’ll be in the front of that group, will get to the town and get to the food. My stomach’s been growling all the day, and all of yesterday! So call it out, or I’ll put my fist into your eye!”

“What do you see?” demanded the cyclopian standing in the middle of the bridge.

The curious one took a last look at the pegs, then at the scowl of his companion. “Yok-ho!” he cried out, and the brute in the middle, as eager as any to get to the town, didn’t question the delay any further.

Word was relayed back to the waiting army, and they began to move immediately, tightening ranks so that they could get across the bridge as quickly as possible.

Under that bridge, tucked into cubbies between the great beams near to the center of the understructure, three dwarfs, who had heard the conversation at the lip of the bridge and now the thunder of marching footsteps and ponypig hooves on the planks above, breathed deep sighs of relief. Each dwarf carried a large mallet, ready to knock out designated pegs and drop the bridge when the signal came from the south.

Down to the south, Siobhan, Luthien, and all the others breathed relieved sighs, as well, as they watched the Avon army crossing over to the east. Luthien took out his folding bow and pinned it open; the others fitted long arrows to their bowstrings. Then they waited.

Half the force got across, including all of the cavalry, and still the raiders held their shots.

The lines of cyclopians stretched out across the way, nearing Felling Downs. The brutes would find the town deserted and all supplies gone, though the villagers had left more than a few traps, snares, and oil-soaked buildings, flint and steel attached to door jambs waiting for a cyclopian to walk in.

For the waiting marauders, the timing had to be perfect. They didn’t want to trap too many cyclopians on this side of the bridge, but it would take them a couple of minutes to get down there to engage the brutes and they didn’t want to wait so long as to allow all the cyclopians to run across. One elf was dug in less than two hundred feet from the bridge, in a deep hole beneath a lone tree. Her job was to count the remaining one-eyes and signal back, and so Luthien and the others waited for the flash of a mirror.

Most of the army was across, the trailing brutes growing more confident and less structured in their formations now. Siobhan nodded up and down the line and great bows bent back, anticipating the call.

The mirror flashed; the air hummed with the vibrations of bowstrings. The first volley went out to the bank just east of the bridge, a three-hundred arrow barrage to prevent any of the brutes who had already gone over from running back across before the bridge fell.

Confusion erupted from the cyclopians as the stinging, deadly darts whipped in. Howls and cries filtered up and down the ranks; to the south, a horn blew.

So much confusion hit those upon the bridge, scrambling brutes trying to decide which way to run, that the one-eyes never even heard the pounding as the dwarfs took up their mallets, slamming out the pegs.

The second barrage came flying from the south, this time plucking into the ranks