The Dwarves Read Free Page A

toward the ground. Glandallin’s aim was unerring and the
     ax drove home.
    Glamdolin groaned as the weapon struck his shoulder. Blood spraying from the wound, he stumbled to the ground. Watching from
     above, Glandallin sent a quick thanks to Vraccas for guiding his blade.
    His relief was short-lived. Death had come too late to prevent the traitor from achieving his terrible purpose. The final
     bolt shot back.
    Slowly, the colossal gateway opened. The vast slabs scraped and dragged across the ground, as though reluctant to obey the
     treacherous command.
    There was a grinding noise of stone on stone. The chink became a narrow channel, which widened to fill the breadth of the
     path. Time slowed to a crawl as the gates swung open. One final creak and for the first time in creation the path into Girdlegard
     was clear.
    No!
Glandallin stirred from his paralysis and hurtled down the steps to join Giselbert and the remaining warriors defending the
     gates.
    He was the last but one to take his place in the doorway. Already the others had closed ranks and were holding their shields
     in front of their bodies, their axes held aloft.
    Shoulder to shoulder they formed a low wall of flesh against the tide of orcs, ogres, trolls, and riders. Forty against forty
     thousand.
    The enemy hung back, fearing an ambush. Never before had the gates opened to allow their passage.
    Glandallin’s gaze swept the front line of monstrous beasts, shifting back to survey the second, third, fourth, fifth, and
     countless other grunting rows, all poised for the attack. He glowered from under his bushy eyebrows, forehead furrowing into
     a frown.
    G iselbert lost no time in reversing the incantation. At the sound of his voice, the gates submitted to his authority, swinging
     back across the pathway but moving too slowly to stop the breach. Giselbert strode behind his troops, laying a hand on each
     shoulder. The gesture was a source of solace as well as strength, calming and rallying the last defenders of the gates.
    Trumpets blaring, the riders ordered the attack. The orcs and ogres brandished their weapons, shouting to drown out their
     fear, and the army advanced with thundering steps.
    “The path is narrow. Meet them line by line and give them a taste of our steel!” Glandallin called to his kinsfolk. “Vraccas
     is with us! We are the children of the Smith!”
    “The children of the Smith!” the fifthlings echoed, feet planted firmly on the rocky ground beneath.
    Four dwarves were chosen to form the final line of defense. Throwing down his shield, the king took an ax in each hand and
     led the surge toward the enemy. The dwarves, all that remained of Giselbert’s folk, charged out to slay the invaders.
    Ten paces beyond the gateway, the armies met. The fifthlings tunneled like moles through the vanguard of orcs.
    With only one ax with which to defend himself, Glandallin struck out, slicing through the thicket of legs. He did not stop
     to kill his victims, knowing that the fallen bodies would hinder the advancing troops.
    “No one gets past Glandallin!” he roared. Stinking blood streamed from his armor and helm, stinging his eyes. When his ax
     grew heavy, he clasped the weapon with both hands. “No one, do you hear!” His enemies’ bones splintered, splattering him with
     hot blood. Twice he was grazed by a sword or a spear, but he battled on regardless.
    The prize was not survival but the closing of the gates. Girdlegard would be safe if they could stave off the invasion until
     the passageway was sealed.
    Until this hour his ax had defended him faithfully, but now the magic of its runes gave out. Glancing to his right, Glandallin
     saw a comrade topple to the ground, skull sliced in half by an orc’s two-handed sword. Seething with hatred, and determined
     to fell the aggressor, Glandallin lunged once, twice, driving his ax into the creature’s belly and cleaving it in two. A shadow
     loomed above him, but by then it was too late.