He had seen what these animals had done to their captives in a dozen settlements across Isger. Torture and mutilation was common--the lucky ones died quickly. Kal could only guess that such a prize as two knights would be too good to waste with a quick death.

Well, Kal Berne wouldn't be taken alive, only to die later on the end of a goblin's dogslicer. He would go down fighting with the blood of his enemies on his hands and blade.

Tiberion scrambled to a halt, and Kal heard him curse, spitting the words in a guttural tongue he didn't recognize. Before them rose a solid curtain of rock.

"Like fish in a barrel," Kal said.

Tiberion turned back toward the direction they had fled, raising his sword in a defensive posture. Kal nocked another arrow, aiming it high, waiting for the next shadowy goblin archer to show its misshapen silhouette above the rocky parapet.

The howling grew louder, and above them came the sound of scrabbling bodies moving into position. It was too dark to see them now, but Kal knew they were there. Down the passage came the sound of the approaching horde.

Kal glanced at Tiberion. "You know they'll kill us slow, don't you?"

Tiberion nodded without turning his gaze from the corridor, sword still held aloft and steady, as solid as the rock enclosure in which they stood.

Then came the roar, and the enemy charged from the dark.

"For Andoran and liberty!" screamed Kal, as above them a dozen figures moved, loosing their arrows as one...

Chapter Two: Notions of Peace

"For Andoran and liberty!" screamed Kal, as above them a dozen figures moved, loosing their arrows as one.

Kal braced himself for the inevitable deluge that would pierce his flesh and leave him bleeding like a stuck pig... but it never came.

Guttural cries of pain pealed out from over the lip of the rock wall, and shouts of anger joined them--not the foul speech of the goblins, but human voices.

From down the passage came the first of the hobgoblin berserkers, and Tiberion took a step forward, ready to cut them down as they charged. But before he had a chance, missiles suddenly rained down from above, piercing the foremost goblinoid's body. It fell with three arrows protruding from its chest as the rest ran into a solid volley, falling and shrieking. Kal loosed his bow into the fray, taking one of the hobgoblins in the throat. Altogether, it was enough for the others to halt their advance, and as the hum of bowstrings announced a second storm, the remaining hobgoblins in view turned and fled back the way they had come.

Silence fell over the dark gully as Kal looked around frantically, trying to spy who had come to their aid, though he could see little in the waning light. Before he could call out, a rope was suddenly dropped down from above.

"You'd best move quick," came a disembodied voice. "They won't stay gone forever."

Kal needed no further encouragement, and he shouldered his bow, then grasped the rope and pulled himself up the rock face. Tiberion was quick to follow, easily scaling the sheer surface despite his heavy armor.

When he reached the summit, Kal was helped up by strong hands. He saw that several disheveled figures hunkered in the dark, their bows drawn against any further danger. On the ground lay several goblin archers, arrows still protruding from their filthy, twisted corpses.

"Thank you," said Kal to the bearded man who had helped him up. "For a second there I thought we were going to end our days with our guts splayed to the winds."

"There'll be time for thanks later," came the reply. "And likely time for the rest as well. For now we have to move."

"And the horses?" Kal looked back over the gully, but could no longer see where they'd dismounted.

"Eaten."

With that, the grim figure and his grubby cohorts began to slink off into the dark. Kal and Tiberion followed across the sloping rocks, trailing their surefooted guides over the uneven ground. How these new men managed not to slip in the dark, Kal didn't know, but several times he found himself losing his balance and falling to his knees, only to be grabbed and pulled to his feet by one of their rescuers. They carried on silently for more than an hour, winding their way further up toward the mountain peaks as the night wind began to whip through the gullies, threatening to fling them into oblivion at any moment. It was to his great relief that Kal eventually spied a campfire in the distance, and as they climbed closer, the welcome smell of cooking food reached his nostrils.

The camp was small, and situated in a narrow gully. Within was packed a motley band of men, women and children huddled together for warmth and safety from the elements. The men that had guided them were greeted with warm embraces and heartfelt blessings, but as Tiberion strode into the firelight, the camp fell silent.

Kal felt the discomfort keenly, and as Tiberion's albeit unwilling companion, found himself obliged to make the introductions.

"A Hellknight's idea of freedom is a strange thing."

"I am Kal Berne of the Steel Falcons," he said, his stomach knotting as all eyes turned his way. "And this is Tiberion. We are part of an allied contingent, sent to root out the remaining invaders in these lands."

"We know what you are," said the bearded man who appeared to be their leader.