Tungdil had no time to dodge the flying ax, which hit him poll-first in the chest. His ribs cracked audibly and the pain was terrible, but it could have been far worse.

"Leave her to me, Caphalor," a hoarse voice commanded. The дlf froze and turned to see Nфd'onn, who had appeared out of nowhere.

"But, Master, you…"

His confusion lasted long enough for Narmora to sit up and thrust her blade into the crouching дlf's neck. The blow almost parted his head from his shoulders, but Caphalor took one last lunge at her, slashing at her throat, then toppling over and burying her beneath him.

Sinthoras let out a terrible howl. He realized that his friend was dead and that the distraction was the work of an impostor. Glancing at his opponents, he decided that the odds were against him. He had sacrificed his amulet already and was no match for the maga on his own. "We'll meet again," he promised. "Sinthoras will be your death." With that he disappeared into the tent.

Tungdil and his companions chased after him but found the magus's quarters deserted. Damn that дlf! He's tricked us again.

Rodario, still posing as the magus, had stayed outside to disperse the crowd of startled beasts. He instructed them to return to the battle and kill any of their comrades who weren't fighting savagely enough. "I'll take care of the treacherous sorceress myself." He stabbed a finger at Andфkai and muttered a few unintelligible words. "Take that!" The maga sank obligingly to the ground. Impressed by the magus's power, the orcs and bцgnilim backed away, bowing respectfully.

"An unsophisticated audience is a gift from above," he murmured gratefully into his malachite cowl. His heart had been in his throat throughout the scene. He checked that the coast was clear and beckoned to Andфkai. "No one's looking. Come quickly, Estimable Maga! Narmora needs your help!"

The maga crouched over the half дlf and began a healing incantation to close the wound, while Rodario stood in front of them, spreading out his voluminous robes to hide them from view. "Incidentally, you'd make a wonderful actress. I've never seen anyone die with such conviction."

"This is no time for flattery," she rebuked him, concentrating on her charm.

As quickly and discreetly as possible they carried the dead дlf and their two wounded companions into the tent and held a whispered conference. Boпndil peered out of the flap and kept watch.

"Sinthoras is bound to tell the magus about us," said Tungdil. He glanced down at Furgas's motionless form. Andфkai had induced a deep healing sleep in the hope that he would recover. Narmora was stroking his hand comfortingly, but she herself was shaking all over and her throat was smeared with blood.

"Nфd'onn will be expecting us," said Andфkai, glancing around the tent. "It won't make things any easier, but at least we've got another дlf outfit." She stripped the dead Caphalor unceremoniously of his mail and strapped it to her body. It was tight in some places and loose in others, but with her visor down and in the company of Narmora she looked reasonably convincing. "With any luck, Nфd'onn won't notice the difference until it's too late."

"How do you feel about posing as the magus again, Rodario? Do you think you'd be able to get us as far as Nфd'onn?" Tungdil was already working on a new plan.

"With pleasure." He tugged on the straps that looped beneath his improvised stilts. He was standing on a pair of helmets. "I get quite a kick out of being a notorious wizard." Grinning, he made a final check of his flamethrower and rearranged the air-filled leather pouches that inflated his girth. "Let the show begin! Our beastly spectators are waiting."

"Don't lay it on too thick or they'll tear you to pieces before we can stop them," warned Tungdil. "All right, here's the story." He pointed to Balyndis, Boпndil, Gandogar, and himself. "The four of us are defectors. We're under your spell, and we're showing you how to infiltrate the stronghold."

Andфkai picked up Furgas's helmet and placed it on her head. It didn't look right with the elaborate дlf armor, but at least it hid her face.

"Blasted ogres," gasped Boпndil, peering through the tent flap. "They've pushed the tower right up against the mountain. They're going to do it this time." He screwed his eyes up in concentration. "I think I can see the magus. He's on the middle platform and he's-" He stopped short, too anxious to continue.

The others rushed to the door to see for themselves what was happening.

The Blacksaddle was quaking under the force of Nфd'onn's attack. Black bolts sped from his staff and zigzagged over the slopes. The noise of crackling, spluttering lightning carried as far as the tent.

The stubborn mountain stood firm, resisting the assault. Just then a mighty bolt slammed into its flank, forcing it apart.

A mass of fractured rock thundered down the slopes, raising vast clouds of dust. Ledges and overhangs collapsed, laying open the passageways that led into the stronghold.

The troops on the tower prepared to disembark. Each platform was equipped with hastily constructed gangplanks, which the beasts angled toward the pitted surface of the once-sheer slope. The first orcs were halfway across before the planks had touched down. They stormed into the stronghold, to be met by dwarven axes.

Nфd'onn made certain that enough troopers were inside, then stepped onto a gangplank and followed them unhurriedly into the stronghold.

At least we know where he is. Tungdil took a deep breath. "We'll have to leave Furgas here," he decided. "It's safer than taking him with us. Are you ready?"

Narmora and Rodario nodded.

As they strode past rows of kneeling beasts who were too dim-witted to see through their disguise, Boпndil had a sudden feeling that they had forgotten something important, and he couldn't think what.

They remained on guard, knowing that Sinthoras was still at large and could ambush them at any moment. Mercifully, the crowds were too thick for him to take aim at them with his bow, so he would be forced to attack at close range. He hadn't shown himself yet.

No one challenged them as they headed for the tower. Farther away, four smaller siege engines had started attacking the stronghold. They ascended the broad steps that led up to the platforms and strode over the gangplank that Nфd'onn had used.

To their intense relief, they survived the defenders' hail of stones and arrows and made it safely into the Blacksaddle. Orcish shrieks echoed through the passageway, accompanied by the peal of colliding swords, axes, and maces. A battle was raging deep within the stronghold.

"I'll see to it that we don't have to worry about enemy reinforcements," said Andфkai. She turned and focused on the besiegers' main tower. Ogres were scaling its sides, hoping to use the uppermost platform as a stepping-stone. Unable to squeeze through the tunnels, they were intent on assailing the defenders from the mountain's flat summit.

"You mustn't exhaust yourself," warned Tungdil, scanning the area for orcs. "We're bound to need your magic when it comes to tackling Nфd'onn."

"Don't worry; I know how to deal with them." The fair- haired maga conjured luminous blue runes that coalesced into a sphere. Hissing furiously, the ball of energy swooped toward the base of the tower and exploded on Andфkai's command.

The air crackled with the sound of an oncoming storm, and a gale blew up, blasting through the tower's solid timber and blowing away the tethers. The lower platforms folded like cardboard, causing the tower to wobble and tilt dangerously to the side.

The walls blew out, and the ogres were thrown backward, arms and legs thrashing frantically like upturned beetles. They fell to earth amid the milling mass of orcs, bцgnilim, and beasts. A moment later, the tower collapsed entirely, burying several hundred more creatures under its weight. The shrill screams of terror sounded sweeter than the sweetest music to Tungdil's ears. The wreckage of the tower lay directly below the entrance to the stronghold, so the debris would have to be cleared before any of the smaller siege engines could be wheeled into place.