“Besides, old friend-what other choice do we have?”
He sprang into the lift, crouching within the shelter of its
railing to present the smallest target possible. “Just don’t let me
drop,” he shouted and gripped the axe tightly.
The lift went over the side, Chandos letting it down quickly,
bringing the boom close above where the Creeper worked its
way upward, now high on the wall, a large black smudge that
oozed across the rock. A howl went up from the Federation
army as they saw what was happening, and lines of bowmen
surged forward. The outlaws were waiting. Shooting unob-
structed from their defenses far above, they broke the assault w
moments. Immediately more lines rushed forward, and arro’
began to shatter against the cliff face all about the dropping h’ i
The outlaws returned the Federation fire. Again, the assa^’,
broke apart and fell back.
But by now catapults had been brought forward, and mass
rocks began to hurtle mto the cliff face,’ smashing all about the
fragile lift as Federation marksmen sought to find the range
One barrage of loose rock hammered into the lift and sent it
careenmg into the wall. Wood splintered and cracked. From
directly below, the Creeper looked up.
Morgan Leah stood at the edge of the bluff and watched in
horror, Steff and Teel beside him. The lift with Padishar Creel
twisted and spun as if caught in a fierce wind.
“Hold him!” Chandos screamed to the men on the ropes,
turning back in dismay. “Hold him steady!”
But they were losing him. The rope slipped, and the effort to
retrieve it dragged its handlers toward the cliff edge where they
frantically struggled to brace themselves. Federation arrows
raked the bluff, and two of the handlers dropped. No one took
their place, uncertain what to do in the chaos of the attack.
Chandos looked back over his shoulder, eyes wide. The rope
slipped further.
They can’t hold it, Morgan realized in horror.
He darted forward, shouting frantically. But Axhind was
quicker. With a speed that belied his size, the Maturen of the
Kelktic Rock bounded through the onlookers and seized the
rope in his massive hands. The other holders fell back in con-
fusion. Alone, the giant Troll held the lift and Padishar Creel.
Then another Troll appeared and then two more. Bracing them-
selves, they hauled back on the rope as Chandos shouted instruc-
tions from the edge.
Morgan peered out over the bluff again. The Parma Key
stretched away in a sea of deep green that disappeared into a
midmoming sky that was cloudless and blue, filled with sweet
smells and a sense of tunelessness. The Jut was an island of
chaos in its midst. At the base of the cliffs, Federation soldiers
lay dying in heaps. The orderly lines were ragged now, their
neat formations scattered in the rush to attack. Catapults
launched their missiles and arrows flew from everywhere. The
lift still dangled from its rope, a tiny bit of bait that was seem-
inely only inches above the black monstrosity that hunched its
way steadily closer.
Then suddenly, almost unexpectedly, Padishar Creel was
lifted into view, short-handled axe splintering the first of the oil
casks and spilling its contents down the cliff side and over the
Creeper. The head and upper body of the creature were satu-
rated in the glistening liquid, and the Creeper stopped moving.
The contents of a second cask followed the first, and then the
contents of a third. The Creeper and the cliff wall were satu-
rated. Arrows from the Federation bows pinged all about Padi-
shar as he stood exposed. Then he was struck, once, twice, and
he went down.
“Haul him up!” Chandos screamed.
The Trolls jerked on the line in response, the watching out-
laws howling in fury and shooting down into the ranks of the
Federation archers.
But then somehow Padishar was back on his feet, and the last
two remaining casks were splintered and their contents dumped
down the rock wall onto the Creeper. The beast hung there, no
longer moving, letting the oil run down into it, under it, over it,
streams of glistening oil and grease spreading down the cliff face