<HTML> *** Zagrosek peered up at the wooden beams far overhead, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps we should start running as soon as it catches fire?" The rat bore an unpleasant moue at hearing his friend's suggestion. "Just run?  The Lutins will be shooting at us for certain." "Then we try not to get hit," the black-haired Sondeckis added drily. "We have very few options at this point, Charles.  Let's just do what we can." Jerome pointed a bit further down the gorge.  The two Sondeckis followed his thick finger, and saw a large pile of rocks that were clustered haphazardly a good twenty yards off. "We can probably climb in those rocks.  They should shield us from most of the collapse." They both nodded at that, and Zagrosek added, "Yes, I think we can easily make that.  And if the Lutins start shooting at us, they'll hit the rocks most likely as well." Before either could even voice another thought, a shout descended from the North face above.  Glancing up, their ears caught the strains of a strangled cry from first one Lutin, and then several more, as they clamoured about the edge of the chasm, looking down into the darkness at the mischief the Glenners were about. "Damn it," Charles swore beneath his breath. "Now we have to do something." "But what?" Jerome asked, even as the archers began to let fly their arrows into the sky, their arcs long, yet most of them falling short on the first volley, crashing into the side of the rock, and clattering back down to the damp ground.  In response, a vaguely familiar voice began shouting orders, and was quickly followed by haphazard arrows streaming down beneath the bridge, imbedding harmlessly into the snow, or coming dangerously close to the quartet flanking the woodpecker. Charles knew that the Lutins were not aware of their presence yet, but hated himself for standing there while the Glenners weer shot at.  He looked into their concerted faces, fixed ever upwards on the lofty heights above, firing strained shots towards the lip of the ridge, while a rain of shafts fell about them.  There were several choked howls as the ir shafts met their targets high above, and even one lon wail as a Lutin toppled over the edge, landing with a resounding thump in a pile of snow, sending gusts of white floating about him as he lay dead. The vole grimaced as an arrow nicked his arm, causing him to take a step back before he could fire anothe rarrow.  That was all the catalystt hat the rat needed to dart forward, heedless of the arrows cascading about him, until he was standing in front of the four archers, the Sondeshike extended in his paws. "What are you doing?" Berchem shouted amidst the twang of the bowstrings. "Covering you." Charles called over his shoulder, even as he began to spin the staff, quicker and quicker between his paws.  Out of the corner of his eyes, he glimpsed Baerle's glowing back at him, even as she continued to shoot.  At that moment, it made the rat feel a bit surer that what he was doing was not going to get him killed. Zagrosek saw what he was doing, and darted over to help, standing before Ralph and Anson, spinning his staff in his hands as well, until the ferrules whined as they twirled through the air.  A faint nimbus appeared to shield those twirling staves, deflecting arrows that came into their path, smashing the wooden shafts into splinters.  Jerome waited beneath the arch for several moments more, before running to join his friends, standing behind the archers, and striking the base of the bridge with the palms of his hands, even as the woodpecker continued to mumble barely audible enchantments. "What's taking him so long?' Charles cried as yet another arrow shattered before him, yet this one had come straight towards his head.   Blinking in fearful surprise at the averted death that had come so close, he added, "Let's burn this bridge and run!" "The wood is too wet as we feared, Burris is going to need several more minutes." Berchem called back, letting loose another bolt.  A cry arose from a Lutin's throat, before the limp form tumbled down the ridge, bouncing off the rock face and dislodging mouldy stones until he collapsed in a heap beside his brethren in the piles of snow. "Well, he'd better hurry," Charles growled.  His paws were not sore, and in fact, found the grove quite relaxing.  He knew that he could have continued to spin his Sondeshike for a good fifteen minutes before he would have started to feel the effects of it, but he doubted that he would live that long.  Surely one or two arrows would get through their impromptu shield, and then, it would be over. Yet, fortune was in their favour, as Lord Avery realised this as well.  Scampering down from his perch high in the trees just before the clearing, he quickly found Angus's party nestled in the trees, their faces set in grim lines.  The badger looked up as his Lord darted amidst them, his paws held out empty, long bow slung across one shoulder. "Lord Avery, I take it you have seen the abominable situation before us?" Angus rose slightly from his kneeling position, but not fully. The squirrel nodded, his tail flitting from side to side. "Yes, and we need to distract those Lutins.  Take your men and get at the end of the bridge.  Do whatever it takes to anger them enough to charge you.  I've ordered the archers to hold back until they are at least two-thirds of the way across.  I'm going to tell Garigan the same thing.  Now move, we mustn't waste a moment." Angus nodded and rose to his feet, drawing his thick blade into his paws once more.  The five soldiers with him also stood ready, their bodies tense.  Finally, Angus gave Brian Avery a wink, and then darted out from the trees, bellowing at the top of his lungs, brandishing his blade high in the air.  The sound of bowstrings twanging ceased for a moment, as the Lutins looked up in surprise to see the Glenners emerging from the woods, charging towards the bridge.  Moments later, a second group joined them at the end, shouting curses and challenges across the chasm to the angry Lutin soldiers. Several of them dropped their bows at that moment and drew daggers, running down the length of the bridge, intent on silencing the Keepers.  Yet, a voice from within the woods cried out to them, "Stop, you fools!  Keep shooting at the Keepers in the ravine!" "Calephas," the badger said in distaste, before dropping his sword to the ground.  With his large paws, he undid the belt at his waist, and dropped his trousers to the ground.  Turning about, he gave the Lutins a good look at his tail and rear, waving it about in the air behind him as he continued to shout.  Many of the Glenners did the same, which only caused the Lutins to cry out in further anger, a good number of them rushing across the bridge disregarding the Baron's shouts for them to fall back. Angus stared between his thick furry thighs at the Lutins racing towards them, and at the ones who had remained by the ledge.  He offered a quick prayer of thanks that the Lutins had not thought to bring long bows with them, otherwise they would have been able to fire across the chasm with ease.  As it was, they were safely out of range of the short bows that the green-skinned savages preferred.  So he simply watched, and continued to shout, as the Baron began trying to frantically organise the undisciplined Lutin forces. In fact, he kept waving his rear at the oncoming Lutins until he could distinguish the lacing of their bucklers.  Then, with a final swing of his short tail, he stepped out of his trousers, and grabbed his sword, meeting the enraged soldiers half-naked.  Even as he raised his sword above his head, slew of arrows descended from the trees behind him, pinning all but two of the dozen who'd charged them.  The first of those came at the badger, heedless that his companions lay dead or twitching on the wooden planks of the bridge.  He raised his axe to swing from the left, but found himself neatly skewered on the long thick blade, the hatchet falling limply from his calloused hand into the snow at his feet.  The second clutched at a dagger that protruded from his chest, falling to his knees, gurgling blood and bile from his lips, before collapsing on his side, clawing at the snow feebly until there was no strength left in him. Angus let out a cheer and continued to swear at the Lutins still on the far side, many of whom were trying to ignore the Glenners and continue shooting down into the ravine.  Baron Calephas was certainly not going to allow any more of his soldiers to foolishly squander their position, only to be skewered by the Glen's archers.  He had suspected all along after all that they had been waiting on the other side of the bridge for a reason.  That a group had somehow managed to reach the bottom of the crevice and was attacking the base of the bridge, vindicated him in his suspicions. However, as he shouted orders to the line of Lutins at the ridge's lip, he did not consider the intent of the two men at his back.  Gaerwog had finally manage to climb to his feet, the cloth tight beneath the mail, though he limped slightly.  Andrig held the pommel of his sword tightly between his fingers, the two friends certain of their intent.  They approached as quietly as their large feet would allow through the snow crusted road, ever watching their quarry, the tall, slender Baron Calephas. The man whom Nasoj had appointed over Arabarb never once looked back, but continued to cry out to the disorderly Lutins, keeping them in check against the Glenner's obstreperous challenges.  Andrig brought the pommel of his sword hard against the back of the man's head, causing the body to suddenly jerk, and then fold in on itself as consciousness fled the Baron.  Gaerwog grabbed him in his arms, to keep him from falling over completely. Andrig then sheathed his sword, and draped one of the Baron's arm over his shoulder, holding him aloft.  Gaerwog did the same, and Calephas's feet dangled in the air between the two massive Northerners.  Taking one last look at the Lutins lined along the rim of the chasm, not a one of them glancing back to see that their commander had been betrayed, they set off at a run, matching each other despite the one's limp, straight across that bridge and toward the animal-men hollering on the other side. It only took the Lutins a moment to realize just what the two Northerner's were up to, and their shouts became that of war cries, as many of them abandoned their quarry in the ravine, and turned their sights upon those men.  Discarding bows in favour of knife, cudgel, or axe, they charged after Andrig and Gaerwog, their collective rage making them faster than was commonly thought possible.  Their footfalls were like thunder upon the bridge, a following storm that threatened to overwhelm them. And it was a sound that did not go unheard by the eight down in the ravine itself.  Charles watched in befuddled amazement as the ranks of the Lutins's broke, and they began to charge across the bridge overhead.  He stopped spinning the Sondeshike, to gaze up at the massive structure overhead.  He then turned back to where Burris and Jerome were assaulting the base with their arts, a sudden look of shock crossing his features. Berchem set down his bow and pointed towards where the flames were beginning to lick along the wooden supports. "Hit this thing with those staves of yours.  If we can knock it down now, we'll take out the Lutins too!" The skunk then waved the rest of them over towards the pile of rocks that they'd spotted earlier.  Baerle stopped a moment to watch in fascination as Zagrosek and Charles stood beside the flaming base, their Sondeshikes held firmly within their hands.  Matthias peered into the bright flames that corroded the support, dancing madly up and licking at the wood higher an higher, spreading rapidly across its surface.  The black-haired Sondeckis met his gaze then, through the flames, burning brightly, absorbing their entire world.  The stresses creaked and the rock that it sat upon charred under the intense heat.  And for a brief moment, Matthias could feel the pendant that Murikeer had given him, which he wore next to his chest grow cold, as if to war him against the inferno and the bridge overhead ready to collapse. And then, the two Sondeckis swung, smashing their staves into the crumbling timbers that held the central support up.  The entire bridge reverberated with the impact, as it buckled in the middle, the ends twisting and bending as it sagged.  With the base racked and splintering, each new cross section thudded into the rocks, only to break apart, causing the bridge to sag even further.  Finally, as the Lutins above realised just what was happening, their screams turning to ones of fear instead of rage, the planks overhead began to splinter, and the walkway broke apart, dropping the central section to the ravine far below, and with it the greater portion of Calephas's forces. Of course, by this point, both Charles and Zagrosek had run from beneath the bridge towards the large pile of stones that the others had fled to.  Baerle stood open mouthed just a few feet from those rocks, staring as that great structure collapsed, the bodies of their enemies falling into the yawning pit, as if the earth itself were swallowing them up.  Charles came up beside her and grabbed her arm, dragging her to the rocks, even as the two sides that had been abutting the ridges finally fell, crashing downwards into the large pile of broken timbers that had already accumulated at the bottom of the gorge. Matthias pressed the surprised opossum down into a crevice within the stones, and lay atop her, even as the thunderous detonations continued, the crackling of the fire as the carnage spewed outwards.  The freakish screams of the Lutins s they dies were lost in the roar of the bridge as the last of the struts slammed into the earth, showering them with debris.  Snapped timbers splashed across the pile of rocks, throwing slivers across them, into their fur, and drenching them with thick dust. Yet, one of the larger pieces slammed into the rat's back, the force somewhat diminished by the rocks on either side, yet the pain was excruciating and brief.  The last thing that he saw before blacking out was the dimpled smile upon the opossum's muzzle, even bigger than after she'd kissed him.   **** End part 59</HTML>