The Orc King - By R. A. Salvatore Page 0,98

a spinning cudgel hit both the sword and the orc, turning its blow harmlessly short. And when the orc managed to hold its balance and throw itself forward at Hralien, it too was intercepted, by a flying Charmorffe Dredgewelder. The dwarf connected with a shoulder block, driving the orc tight against the wall. The orc began raining ineffective blows upon the dwarf's back for Charmorffe's powerful legs kept grinding, pressing in even tighter.

Hralien stabbed the orc in the eye with an arrow.

The elf jumped back fast, though, set the arrow and let fly, point blank into yet another orc flying up to the top of the wall. Hralien hit it squarely, and though its feet landed atop the narrow rail, the jolt of the hit dropped it right back off.

Charmorffe leaped up and clean-and-jerked the thrashing orc up high over his head. The dwarf threw himself into the wall, which hit him about mid chest, and snapped forward, tossing the orc over. As he went forward, Charmorffe solved the riddle, for just below him, and off to both sides as well, stood ogres, their backs tight against the wall. As each bent low and cupped its hands down near the ground, another orc ran up and stepped into that brace. A slight toss by the ogres had orcs sailing up over the wall.

"Pig-faced goblin kissers," Charmorffe growled. He turned and shouted, "Rocks over the wall, boys! We got ogres playing as ladders!"

Hralien rushed up beside Charmorffe, leaned far out and shot an arrow into the top of the nearest ogre's head. He marveled at his handiwork, then saw it all the more clearly as a fireball lit up the night, down to the east of his position, closer to the Surbrin where the wall was far from complete.

When Hralien looked that way, he thought their position surely lost, for though Alustriel and her wizards had entered the fray, a mass of huge orcs and larger foes swarmed across the defenses.

"Run for Mithral Hall, good dwarf," the elf said.

"That's what I be thinking," said Charmorffe.

Duzberyl ambled toward the wall, grumbling incessantly. "Two hundred pieces of gold for this one alone," he muttered, pulling another glittering red jewel from his enchanted necklace. He reached back and threw it at the nearest orcs, but his estimate of distance in the low light was off and the jewel landed short of the mark. Its fiery explosion still managed to engulf and destroy a couple of the creatures, and the others fell back in full flight, shrieking with every stride.

But Duzberyl griped all the more. "A hundred gold an orc," he grumbled, glancing back at Alustriel, who was far off to the side. "I could hire an army of rangers to kill ten times the number for one-tenth the cost!" he said, though he knew she was too far away to hear him.

And she wasn't listening anyway. She stood perfectly still, the wind whipping her robes. She lifted one arm before her, a jeweled ring on her clenched fist sparking with multicolored light.

Duzberyl had seen that effect before, but still he was startled when a bolt of bright white lightning burst forth from Alustriel's ring, splitting the night. The powerful wizard's aim was, as always, right on target, her bolt slamming an ogre in the face as it climbed over the wall. Hair dancing wildly, head smoking, the brute flew back into the darkness as Alustriel's bolt bounced away to hit another nearby attacker, an orc that seemed to simply melt into the stone. Again and again, Alustriel's chain lightning leaped away, striking orc or ogre or half-ogre, sending foes flying or spinning down with smoke rising from bubbling skin.

But every vacancy was fast-filled, ten attackers for every one that fell, it seemed.

The apparent futility brought a renewed growl to Duzberyl's chubby face, and he stomped along to a better vantage point.

Limping from foot and hip, Catti-brie watched it all with equal if not greater frustration, for at least Alustriel and her wizards were equipped to battle the monsters. The woman felt naked without her bow, and even with the gifts Alustriel had offered, she believed that she would prove more a burden than an asset.

She considered removing herself from the front lines, back to the bridge where she might prove of some use to Asa Havel in directing the retreat, should it come to that. That in mind, she glanced back - and noted a small group of orcs sprinting along the riverbank toward

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