In The Coils Of The Snake (33 page)

Marak Catspaw
considered this. “That’s quite true,” he agreed.

“Instead,
I suggest that you call for a meeting and have all the elf
warriors
come to the truce circle. They won’t be able to launch an attack in there, and
they can consider your proposals more calmly. Send your Guard in as well, to
protect goblin lives.”

“He’s right
that the elf lord is likely to take some goblins down with him,” opined
Richard.

`And what do you
suggest we do with the elf lord?” demanded
the King, growing angry again. “I suppose you want me to send him
into
the circle, too.”

“No,” said
Seylin resignedly. “I know you better than that. I’ve been doing quite a
bit of study on this issue, and I see no way to
avoid a fight. The best plan I can suggest, to minimize loss of life, is
this: Meet the elf lord outside the circle. Propose a duel. And then
kill him yourself.”

Miranda awoke to a feeling of
dread. This was her elvish eighteenth
birthday, the night she was supposed to be
married. This was the night when Nir would find out that he would never see her
again.
For two weeks she had remained numb
and disinterested in life. Now
her grief surprised her. The last thing
she wanted was to be alone. She hurried downstairs to find the others.

Hunter and Tattoo
had cleared the low table. They knelt across from each other, staring at an
ordinary bun. As Miranda watched,
the bun
wavered back and forth on the table between the opponents.
Then it flew
into the air and socked Hunter in the stomach.

“Ha!
I win,” declared Tattoo.

“We were playing three buns out of five,”
protested Hunter. “That
was
three buns out of five,” said the
goblin. “Hand it over.”
Scowling furiously,
the elf pulled his deer-bone pipe from his
belt
and gave it to Tattoo. “At last!” exclaimed the goblin happily. “A
peaceful evening!”

“Not
exactly,” remarked a voice behind them. Seylin stood in the
doorway. “Tonight
will be remembered for many things,” he said,
“but it won’t be remembered for peace. The elf lord returned last
night
to find Miranda missing. He
sent a message to the goblin King, declar
ing the treaty null. He intends to meet the goblins in battle and fight
to
the death — to his own death, and
the death of every warrior he has.”

The three stared at
Seylin in shock for a moment. Tattoo was
the first
to speak. “Twenty two warriors against the King’s Guard. That won’t last
long. Sorry,” he added to Hunter.

“It means the
end of the elves!” breathed Miranda in dismay. “Catspaw won’t let
that happen.”

“Marak
Catspaw sent a messenger asking the elf lord to come to
the
truce circle,” replied Seylin. “He doesn’t intend to kill the
warriors, just the lord himself The goblin King thinks he can reason with the
elves once their leader is dead.”

“Well,
he’s wrong,” snapped Hunter.

“The situation
is desperate,” agreed Seylin. “It calls for careful
handling. Even with the best intentions, it may
well end in disaster,
and the end of
the elves will mean the end of the goblins. I can think
of only one way
to avoid this catastrophe. I need Miranda’s help.”

The
guards looked puzzled and stared at her blankly. She stared
just
as blankly at Seylin. “I’m nothing but an ordinary human,” she
protested. “I can’t even work magic.”

“Elves
and goblins need their magic to survive in a human
world,”
said Seylin. “I’m not asking you to work magic. just come
with me to the truce circle and swear to stay
there until I give you per
mission to leave. Whether you like it or not,
or even understand it,
you’re at the heart
of this entire conflict. As long as you’re inside the
circle, that’s
where the conflict will be, and the truce circle magic will keep it from being
bloody.”

“I’ll
come with you,” promised Miranda.

“Not without my
permission,” declared Hunter. “She’s my responsibility.”

“And
I can’t let her go anywhere,” announced Tattoo. “I have
my
orders.”

“Which
were what?” prompted the elvish goblin.

Tattoo paused to
think. “I have to stay here as long as Miranda does, as her goblin guard.”

“Fine,” answered Seylin. “She’s leaving in
just a minute, and that leaves you free to go, too. I’ll bring both of you men
with us if you’ll
swear
to remain with Miranda inside the circle. Otherwise, I think I
should explain something. I learned magic from the old
goblin
King, I taught magic to the new goblin King,
and I don’t intend to let either one of you jeopardize your own race’s future.”

Both guards looked
at each other and then at their feet. They didn’t know what to do.

“Don’t you want
to be at your old friend’s side tonight?” Seylin
asked Hunter. The elf brightened at the thought. “And, Tattoo, I
had
a suspicion that you wanted to marry my daughter Celia,” he remarked. The
goblin gave him a deeply reproachful look.

They
followed Seylin out of the cavern and into the guardroom.
Tattoo
gaped at the bulky forms lying on the floor.

“You sent Lash and Jacoby to sleep?” he
demanded frantically.
“Yes,
well,” demurred Seylin. “Their orders were different from
yours.”

Tattoo
gazed in disbelief at his snoring comrades. “He’s going to
kill
me, isn’t he?” he sighed.

“The goblin
King?” asked Seylin. “Oh, I wouldn’t think so. Probably just me,”
he suggested with an encouraging smile.

Outside, they found
bright twilight and a crisp breeze blowing.
Seylin
collected them at the cliff. “I need your permission to conceal
you,”
he said, “for your protection and mine.”

“You’ll
make us invisible?” asked Hunter.

“No,”
lectured Seylin. “Real invisibility is impossible. The spells
either make you look like something else, or they make
you be some
where else.
This spell makes us look like shadows, so stay in the shad
ows
or you’ll be spotted at once. Hunter, hold Miranda’s hand, and
you and Tattoo hold my hands.” The four
large black shadows hur
ried self-consciously
across the grass and vanished beneath the trees.

In half an hour,
they arrived at the truce circle, and Seylin rendered them visible, or at least
conspicuous, again.

“The elves won’t
arrive for at least another hour,” he told them.
“Miranda, swear by the magic of the truce circle not to leave
until I
give you permission.” He guided her through the oath. “And
you two swear by the magic of the truce circle to remain in it with Miranda.”
They did so. “Now, Miranda, see if you can leave.”

Miranda
walked to the outer line of trees and stopped, unable to
go farther. She glanced down at the stars at her wrists,
but they were dark. “I thought force was forbidden in the circle,”
she said, rejoin
ing her companions.

“It is,”
answered Seylin, “except what you force upon yourself. What you swear here
you have to honor here. Now I’ll conceal you
again.
Please trust me and stay concealed until the two lords enter the
circle.
After that, you’re free to be as conspicuous as you like.”

He changed them back
into shadows again, and they sat down
under
the trees. Twilight deepened into night, and the stars came
out. They
heard a crowd approaching and Richard issuing orders.
Seventy-five of the King’s Guard filed through the trees and formed
ranks.
The rising full moon began to light the interior of the circle.

“The elves are
coming,” whispered the shadowed Hunter to Tattoo.

“I don’t hear
anything,” murmured the goblin.

“I know,”
replied Hunter proudly.

“Elf lord!”
came Catspaw’s shout from outside the circle. “You
may have broken the treaty, but I stand by my promise. I mean to do
what
is best for the elves.”

“You stole Sika
from my camp through lies and threats,” called
the elf lord’s clear voice. “In doing that, you have already
destroyed
the future of the elves.”

The shadow that was
Miranda leaned toward Seylin. “Is that true?” she whispered,
dumbfounded.

“I’m
almost positive it is,” answered Seylin. “Except for the lies,
of course.”

“I
encouraged my subject to flee a murderer and return to safety,”
responded
the goblin King. “I and my goblins remain the friends of
the elves. We refuse to attack your warriors, and
we will disarm them
if they attack. If you wish to fight, send your
people into the circle and face me alone.”

“Very well,”
replied the elf lord, and the warriors began to file into the circle.

“But
Seylin, he can’t do that!” whispered Miranda to the shadow
next
to her. “Nir has absolutely no chance of winning!”

“True,”
answered Seylin, moving away. “But I wouldn’t worry about that. I don’t
think the elf lord expects to win.”

She
followed the sound of his voice to the outer circle of trees and
looked out between the great oaks. Lit by the full moon,
goblin and
elf stood face-to-face not ten feet
apart. Catspaw was a little taller
and
heavier. He held his great paw outstretched, his lion claws
bared. Nir
held his own right hand up, his cloak thrown back from his shoulders.

“Seylin, you’re
going to do something, aren’t you?” she whispered to the shadow beside
her.

“Of course,”
he answered. “In a minute.”

“In a minute?”
she echoed frantically. “Seylin, you have to do something
now!”

As the last elf man
reached the circle, the two leaders sprang at
each
other. A blast of wind tore the branches around them, and they
disappeared
behind a sheet of white flame.

The howling wind
drowned out all other sounds, and the sheet ,of flame became a fiery ball.
Crackling and arcing, it rolled across the ground, its brilliant glare now
purple, now golden. Trees split
and
splintered as it rolled by, and the wind whipped leaves and twigs
into a
whirling column. Dimly, within the glowing heart of the flame, moved the black
forms of the magical warriors.

Inside the truce
circle, the assembled men broke ranks and
scattered,
crowding to the gaps between the trees. Elves and goblins
jostled
together, unheeding, intent on watching the combat. But no
one set foot outside the great trunks, no matter
how advantageous a
view this might
offer. Torn tree limbs, caught on the spiraling wind,
crashed into one another, and flames ran along the
ground and
licked the very edge of
the enchanted ring. No one inside it dared to
leave its safety.

The
flaming sphere, spinning and flashing, rose high into the air. The wind whirled
into a scream. With a crash like a thunderclap, the
heaven-bound globe split open in a shower of sparks.
Stark against
the bright
light, two dark figures plunged to earth. They landed with
twin
thuds a few feet apart on the ground outside the truce circle.

Seylin
walked out and stood between the prone leaders, his hands
behind
his back.

“And
did you enjoy your refreshing combat, my lords?” he asked.
“I
trust that you’re both well.”

The men looking up
at him appeared not to know whether they
were
alive or dead. He smiled reassuringly at their stunned expressions.

“In fact, I’m
sure you’re both well,” he concluded. “And since each of you
firebrands has failed to annihilate the other, perhaps
you’ll come into the circle now and look for a less drastic approach.”