They ignored the keep's two upper levels for the time being, reasoning that the entrance to an underground chamber would probably be on the ground floor, unless the fortress' builders had been very devious indeed, which of course wasn't impossible. Drake led them from one room to another, moving on when they saw that the enemy had been there before them, scraping up the few inches of soil on the floor looking for secret trapdoors. As they went, they carefully measured the lengths and angles of the walls, looking for evidence of secret rooms and passages, even though they were confident that the Shadowsoldiers had already done so, but they found nothing.

     The keep was small, but contained a surprisingly large number of rooms. It took them quite a long time to check them all, but eventually they'd covered the entire ground floor and found nothing except a suspected narrow secret room between the kitchens and a general storeroom. A clever place to put a secret room because the storeroom would normally have been half filled with stores and provisions, making it difficult to measure the length of the walls accurately.

     "It would have to be a very narrow secret room, if it's there at all and we haven't just got our measurements wrong," said Shaun. "Just a few feet wide. Perhaps it contains a staircase leading from the first floor down to the Orb chamber."

     "That'd explain why we haven't seen any Shads yet," added Jerry, looking up at the ceiling. "They're all upstairs."

     They retraced their steps back to the entrance hall, but as they reached the door the priest put his hand out to stop them, putting a finger to his lips and backing off slowly and silently. The others soon saw why. Half a dozen shologs were coming down the stairs, swords drawn and alert for danger. The eight questers backed into the nearest room and hid out of sight.

     "There's nothing ‘ere, Sogrot!" said the leading sholog in irritation. "Yer ‘earin' things again."

     "I heard something, I tell yer!" growled the second one. "I heard voices!"

     "Yeah, yeah, like the time you heard a noise in the kitchin, an it turned out ta be a rat in the crockery cupboard."

     The others laughed loudly, and the second sholog's bestial face turned bright red with fury. "I heard something, I tell yer!" he roared angrily, his snout quivering with indignation. "There's someone ‘ere!"

     "Then why haven't the guards said nothing?" asked the leading sholog, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "There's only one other way inta the keep, an it's still sealed. If anyone tried ta get in that way, they'd make so much noise that we'd a heard it, so anyone in ‘ere musta got in through the main doors, so why didn't the guards see ‘em?"

     "Ha!" sneered the second sholog. "I wouldn't trust ‘oomans ta guard a nursery. A whole regiment could've sneaked past ‘em an' they wouldn't a noticed."

     "Cooper! Truman!" called the leading sholog, going to the main gate. "Where are ya?" He looked around but couldn't find them. "They're gone!" he said, puzzled.

     "They've deserted!" said a third sholog. "I knew we couldn't trust ‘oomans."

     "Nah, Cooper wasn't bad for an ‘ooman," replied the first sholog. "I think something's happened to ‘em."

     "I told ya!" said the second sholog triumphantly. "I told you I heard something!"

     The leading sholog ignored him and strode across to the great doors. The moment he opened it and saw the two guards absent from their posts the game would be up, so Drake leapt from his hiding place and hurled a throwing knife. It flew with deadly accuracy to bury itself up to the hilt in the side of his hairy throat, and as the sholog fell, gurgling and coughing up blood, Drake ran forward, drawing his broadsword, and lopped off the leading sholog's head before he had time to react. The other shologs snapped out of their stunned surprise with impressive speed, however, and the priest soon found himself hard pressed to defend himself as they closed in around him until Petronax, Shaun and Matthew joined him. The battle was short lived, however, as Jerry brought down three of the shologs with a sleep spell and the other two fled for the stairs. Drake killed one of them with another throwing knife, but the other escaped, reaching the top of the stairs and disappearing through a doorway.

     "Damnation!" swore Drake. "Now he'll bring the rest! Prepare to defend yourselves!" He drew a third knife and slit the throats of the sleeping enemies. Lieenna started to protest but fell silent, remembering the argument they'd had over the followers of the plague priests. They were in exactly the same situation now. They were fighting an enemy that was utterly ruthless and merciless, who neither gave nor expected to receive quarter and who took prisoners only to turn them into mindless slaves or undead zombies. If they didn't kill the sleeping Shadowsoldiers, what would they do with them? There were too many to take prisoner, and if they let them go free, they would only attack again. They had to kill them, they had no choice, but the demi shae still hated it and when Drake looked back at her she averted her eyes, looking at the wall instead.

     Diana touched her gently on the arm. “We will pray for their souls later,” she said. “And for our own as well.”

     Less than a minute later, the enemy arrived. Three shologs, six humans armed with swords and bows, and a huge ogre nearly eight feet tall, massively muscled and bellowing in fury. It ignored the stairs and jumped right over the balcony, landing five feet from Drake who immediately attacked with his longsword, hoping to catch it off guard. The ogre straightened up amazingly fast, however, and parried his blow with a swing of its huge, two bladed axe that sent the priest sprawling backwards to collapse against the wall. The ogre leapt forward, raising its axe high over its head to chop the priest in half, but gave a cry of pain as a pair of Thomas’s firebolts hit it in the chest, making its swing go wide so that it only nicked Drake's shoulder as he rolled aside. Blood spurted through the gash in his robe, chain mail and flesh as the priest got back to his feet and prepared himself to meet its next attack.

     Meanwhile, the three shologs had reached the bottom of the stairs, to be met by Petronax, Shaun and Matthew, and the six humans lined up along the upper balcony, fitting arrows to their bows. Lirenna saw them and cast a sleep spell at them, putting three of them to sleep and bringing one of them tumbling down to the floor.

     The other three archers aimed their bows at the three wizards and shot their arrows. One bounced off the wall inches from Thomas’s head as he ducked through a doorway to avoid it, and another tore through Jerry's jacket just under his arm, grazing his skin and drawing a little blood, but the third hit Lirenna in the shoulder, sending her staggering back with a cry of pain. Seeing her fall, Diana ran over to examine her. Lirenna was trembling, and her face was contorted with pain. She had one hand on the arrow, as if she might pull it back out, but there was no strength in her fingers.

     Diana quickly saw that the arrow was barbed. It would have to be cut out. She prayed over her, beseeching the Goddess to lessen the pain, and Lirenna's face relaxed as if she were falling asleep. Diana then snapped the shaft off close to the skin, watching the demi shae’s face carefully as she did it. Lirenna was looking pale and was trembling slightly, but her life didn’t seem to be in danger. That was good. It meant that Diana wouldn't have to attempt a healing with the arrow still in place, something that she would only have done as a last resort.

       Thomas, meanwhile, was casting another sleep spell at the remaining archers, putting all three of them to sleep and putting an end to their threat for the time being. They wouldn't remain asleep for long, however, and he had no magic left. The battle had to be ended before they regained consciousness or they'd be in real trouble. He ran back to where Diana was still praying over Lirenna, easing her pain and calming her mind, and he helped the cleric carry her through the doorway into the corridor, where they'd be safe. He ached with worry for her, but there was no time for that right now. He drew his knife, therefore, and went back to the battle, hoping to find an opening in the swordplay.

     The three fighters were holding the shologs at the base of the stairs, although Matthew had suffered a nasty wound to his sword arm. Drake wasn't having as much luck, though. He had dropped his broadsword, which was difficult to use in the confined space, and was fighting with his shortsword, which already had a couple of deep notches where he had parried crushing blows from the ogre's huge axe. The monster had three deep gashes in its body, inflicted by the priest, and two of his throwing knives were embedded deeply in its thick, lanky fur, but the creature hardly seemed to notice them and was still fighting with all the strength and fury it possessed. Drake was beginning to get worried. He was tiring rapidly, and every time he parried another blow from the monster, it sent a jolt of pain up his sword arm, which was starting to throb and ache. The textbooks which Resalintas had made him memorise said that it was important to go on the offensive in situations like this, but he was much too busy defending himself to dare do so. If he tried to launch another attack on the monster, he would leave himself wide open to its attack and that would be the end of him. And yet he couldn't go on the way he was. He was tiring faster than the ogre, and unless something happened soon to change the situation, he was done for.

     Jerry and Thomas spotted his dilemma and moved in to help. Thomas ran up behind it and stabbed his knife as hard as he could into the powerful muscles of its back, and Jerry gave it a deep gash in the leg as he tried and failed to sever its hamstrings. The monster gave a roar of fury and lashed out at the wizards, striking Thomas with a clawed hand that sent him flying across the room. Jerry made another attempt on its hamstrings, the only vulnerable part of its body that he was able to reach, but again he failed and the huge beast lashed out hard with its foot, throwing him into the corner where he lay half stunned. Its attention had been diverted for a crucial couple of seconds, however, and Drake took advantage of it by running him through, sinking his sword up to the hilt in its hairy chest and then yanking it out again with a savage twist.

     Incredibly, however, even this wasn't quite enough to kill the amazingly tough and resilient monster. As Drake stared in stunned surprise, the ogre hefted its huge axe again, ignoring the blood that spurted from the wound in time to its heartbeat, and prepared to attack again. It was slow, however, its wounds and the massive loss of blood finally beginning to weaken it, and the priest was easily able to duck beneath the blow. He had the advantage over it now. He could take his time, wait for the right opening, and he didn't need to wait long. The creature was growing careless with fatigue. It swung wildly at him, summoning all that remained of its failing strength for one last desperate strike, but the priest danced behind it and, with a grunt of effort, lopped off its head with a single swing of his sword.

     The headless monster continued to stand for a few moments longer, as if confused, while blood fountained out of its neck. It dropped the axe, and its huge hands reached up, as if feeling for where its head should be. Then its knees began to buckle and it began to fall, as slowly and majestically as a felled tree, hitting the ground with a heavy crash.

     Drake took a few moments to catch his breath before looking around to see how the others were doing. One of the three shologs was dead, apparently the one that Shaun had been fighting, and Matthew had retired from the battle because of his wounds and was being treated by Diana. The other two fighters were forcing the remaining two shologs back up the stairs, where the archers were beginning to wake up and pick up their bows. Before they could shoot any arrows, however, the priest killed two of them with his throwing knives, hitting them squarely in the throat, and the remaining archers gave up and ran, disappearing down the first floor corridor.

     Seeing that they'd been left all alone, the two shologs screamed curses in their own barbaric language. Drake thought for a moment that they might be about to run as well, but he should have known better. They were screaming the name of the Shadowlord and preparing themselves to die in battle. A sholog that knew it was facing impossible odds and that had had time to work itself up into a full battle frenzy was a terrifying sight and a fearsome opponent, so much so that the odds often turned out not to be so impossible after all, and the three humans prepared themselves for a battle like nothing they'd ever experienced before.

     It was almost the end of Shaun. How he ever managed to fend off the sholog's murderous attacks he never knew, and if not for Drake it's likely that all three of them would have died that day. Even so, though, things might have gone differently if Matthew, healed by Diana, hadn't been able to re enter the fight, and it was a long, hard struggle before the two shologs were finally put to death. There was no regret in the bestial faces as they went down, though, and the second one was actually laughing, a horrible, gurgling sound, as Drake's sword plunged through its pelt of shaggy hair and pierced its heart. It cried out one last word in its own language, another prayer to the Shadowlord, and only then did its crazed, red eyes finally close and its breathing stop.