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“Thirty of you keep watch on those fools by the white rock. The rest，after me，that we may teach these sons of earth a lesson.”
Tirian and his friends，still panting from their fight and thankful for a few minutes’ rest，stood and looked on while the Tarkaan led his men against the Dwarfs. It was a strange scene by now. The fire had sunk lower：the light it gave was now less and of a darker red. As far as one could see，the whole place of assembly was now empty except for the Dwarf and the Calormenes. In that light one couldn’t make out much of what was happening. It sounded as if the Dwarfs were putting up a good fight. Tirian could hear Griffle using dreadful language，and every now and then the Tarkaan calling，“Take all you can alive! Take them alive!”
Whatever that fight may have been like，it did not last long. The noise of it died away. Then Jill saw the Tarkaan coming back to the stable：eleven men followed him，dragging eleven bound Dwarfs. Whether the others had all been killed，or whether some of them had got away，was never known.
“Throw them into the shrine of Tash，”said Rishda Tarkaan．
And when the eleven Dwarfs，one after the other，had been flung or kicked into that dark doorway and the door had been shut again，he bowed low to the stable and said：
“These also are for thy burnt offering，Lord Tash.”
And all the Calormenes banged the flats of their swords on their shields and shouted，“Tash! Tash! The great god Tash! Inexorable Tash!”There was no nonsense about“Tashlan”now.
The little party by the white rock watched these doings and whispered to one another. They had found a trickle of water coming down the rock and all had drunk eagerly-Jill and Poggin and the King in their hands，while the four-footed ones lapped from the little pool which it had made at the foot of the stone. Such was their thirst that it seemed the most delicious drink they had ever had in their lives，and while they were drinking they were perfectly happy and could not think of anything else．
“I feel in my bones，”said Poggin，“that we shall all，one by one，pass through that dark door before morning. I can think of a hundred deaths I would rather have died.”
“It is indeed a grim door，”said Tirian.“It is more like a mouth.”
