The Ruby Knight

not Adian, King of Thalesia, so I will not try to trick you. I will take what I want from you by main force. Defend yourself if you can.’ It was as close as Sparhawk could come to a formal challenge under the circumstances.
    Ghwerig came to his feet, his twisted body hideous, and his flat lips peeled back from his yellow fangs in a snarl of hatred. ‘You not take Ghwerig’s Bhelliom from him, Sparhawk from Elenia. Ghwerig kill first. Here you die, and Ghwerig eat – not even pale Elene God save Sparhawk now.’
    ‘That hasn’t been decided yet,’ Sparhawk replied coolly. ‘I need the use of Bhelliom for a time, and then I will destroy it to keep it out of the hands of Azash. Surrender it up to me or die.’
    Ghwerig’s laughter was hideous. ‘Ghwerig die? Ghwerig immortal, Sparhawk from Elenia. Man-thing cannot kill.’
    ‘That also hasn’t been decided yet.’ Quite deliberately, Sparhawk took the spear in both hands and advanced on the Troll-Dwarf. Kurik, his spiked chain-mace hanging from his right fist, came out of the mouth of the gallery and edged around his Lord to come at the Troll from the side.
    ‘Two?’ Ghwerig said. ‘Sparhawk should have brought a hundred.’ He bent and lifted a huge stone club bound with iron out of a pile of gems. ‘You not take Ghwerig’s Bhelliom from him, Sparhawk from Elenia. Ghwerig kill first. Here you die, and Ghwerig eat. Not even Aphrael save Sparhawk now. Little man-things doomed. Ghwerig feast this night. Roasted man-things have much juice.’ He smacked his lips grossly. He straightened, his rough-furred shoulders bulking ominously. The term ‘dwarf’ as applied to a troll, Sparhawk saw, was grossly deceptive. Ghwerig, despite his deformity, was at least as tall as he, and the Troll’s arms, twisted like old stumps, hung down below his knees. His face was furred rather than bearded, and his green eyes seemed to glow malevolently. He shambled forward, his vast club swinging in his right hand. In his left he still clutched Sarak’s crown with Bhelliom glowing at its apex.
    Kurik stepped in and swung his whistling chain-mace at the monster’s knees, but Ghwerig almost disdainfully blocked the blow with his club. ‘Flee, weak man-thing,’ he said, his voice grating horribly. ‘All flesh is food for me.’ He swung his horrid club at that point, and the reach of his abnormally long arms made him doubly dangerous. Kurik jumped back as the iron-bound stone cudgel whistled past his face.
    Sparhawk lunged in, driving the spear at the Troll’s chest, but again Ghwerig deflected the stroke. ‘Too slow, Sparhawk from Elenia,’ he laughed.
    Then Kurik’s mace caught him high on the left hip. Ghwerig fell back, but with cat-like speed smashed his club into a pile of glittering gems, spraying them out like missiles. Kurik winced and put his free hand to his face to wipe the blood from the gash in his forehead out of his eyes.
    Sparhawk jabbed again with his spear, lightly slicing the off-balanced Troll across the chest. Ghwerig roared with rage and pain, then stumbled forward with vast swings of his club. Sparhawk jumped back, coolly watching for an opening. He saw that the Troll was totally without fear. No injury short of one that was mortal would make the thing retreat. Ghwerig was actually foaming at the mouth now, and his green eyes glowed with madness. He spat out hideous curses and lurched forward again, swinging his horrid club.
    ‘Keep him away from the edge!’ Sparhawk shouted to Kurik. ‘If he goes over, we may never find the crown!’ Then he quite clearly realized that he had found the key. Somehow they had to make the deformed Troll drop the crown. It was obvious by now that not even the two of them could prevail against this shaggy creature with its long arms and its eyes ablaze with insane rage. Only a distraction would give them the opportunity to leap in and deliver a mortal wound. He shook his right hand to get Kurik’s attention, then reached over and clapped the hand on his left elbow. Kurik’s eyes looked puzzled for a moment, but then they narrowed, and he nodded. He circled around to Ghwerig’s left, his mace at the ready.
    Sparhawk tightened his grip on the spear with both hands again and feinted with it. Ghwerig swung his club at the extended weapon, and Sparhawk jerked it back.
    ‘Ghwerig’s rings!’ the Troll shouted in triumph. ‘Sparhawk from Elenia brings the rings back to Ghwerig. Ghwerig feel their presence!’ With