H
er voice was cold, the way his old commander’s voice was cold when he ordered a charge. Tobin took a deep breath and answered carefully. “Because I’m not the goblin’s enemy, not anymore. I’ve seen…” There was no time to explain the things he’d seen, things he was only beginning to understand. He put it into the simplest terms he could manage. “You should let me go, because I’ll be more useful protecting the children than bleeding to death on the floor. I won’t hurt the goblins.”
She glanced at the silent bell, then at his face. Tobin had no idea what she read there.
“I swear it,” he said.
She looked at the bell again, then, impatiently, out the door. “Very well.” She pulled a bronze knife from her belt and tossed it to the ground at his feet. “Natter took the children. I’m not sure where.” She turned and strode out, her small lieutenant following.
It took Tobin several minutes, fumbling behind his back with bound and shaking hands, to pick up the knife and brace it with his feet so he could slide the rope on his wrists against the blade. Once his hands were free, he slashed quickly through the rope on his ankles. Her healing spells had cured his sprain enough for him to stand. He lurched stiffly to his feet, hobbled to the door, and stepped out into his nightmare.
Late afternoon sunlight blazed over the meadow. He couldn’t see the horses yet, but goblins raced frantically about, shouting the names of family and friends.
Where would the children be in this turmoil? The only place he knew to start searching was at Natter’s house, on the other side of the clearing. Could he even find it without a guide?
A shouted command rang out, the harsh human voice overwhelming the goblins’ thin cries, and fires sprang up in a ring around the village, bright orange in the sunlight. Tobin began to run, racing across the clearing toward Natter’s house.
He could see the horses now. They all had riders, and footmen walked beside them. Gusts of smoke blew over the edges of the meadow, obscuring his vision.
A horse screamed. Tobin turned and froze as the girl and several dozen goblins rose from cover right in front of the line of soldiers and charged. The Flichters’ assaults drove the horses mad, but the footmen were less vulnerable. The goblins attacked them—humans more than twice their size—with bronze axes and shovels against steel armor. As Tobin gazed in horror, the goblins began to die under steel swords.
Then the girl shouted, wordless, mocking, triumphant. She’d gotten through the line and, as the soldiers turned to look, she raced off into the woods. She shouted again, and every soldier on that side of the meadow ran after her! As soon as the line broke, hundreds of goblins rose from cover, pouring like a darting river through the gap she’d made.
Shouts of rage from the remaining soldiers drowned Tobin’s shout of triumph. Then the commanding voice rang out again, ordering them to close up the line, close up the line, and the nearby troops ran forward, but most of the goblins had already gone.
Most, but not all. Had the children escaped? Natter? Erebus? Tobin ran.
The horses’ hooves didn’t break through the goblin’s roofs, as they had in his dream, but picks in the hands of the footmen did, tearing the houses open like bodies ripped by a sword.
He was still some distance away when he saw them, one on horseback, two on foot, attacking the earthen part of Natter’s house. The rooms in the tree were already in flames, and Tobin hoped for a moment the house would be empty. But as soon as the pick smashed through the roof, the older children shot out of the side door, with Natter behind them, running more slowly because she carried Nuffet in her arms.
Tobin redoubled his speed, heart pounding. Thank the Bright Ones they were running in his direction!
The soldiers had been watching the front door, so it took them a second to notice their quarries’ flight. Then a shout rang out and the horseman turned his mount and set it galloping after the fleeing goblins. Tobin hurtled forward and grabbed the bridle, dragging the horse to a prancing stop.
“Demon’s teeth! What do you think you’re doing? Let go of my horse!”
“Your commander! I have to see your commander!”
“Later,” the horseman snapped, and kicked Tobin’s wrist, breaking his grip.
Natter darted out of a small gully and the horseman let out a hunting whoop and raced after her, but she was far ahead of him now, alone and unburdened. At least she had a chance.
Where were the children? Somewhere between Tobin and the gully in the meadowland from which she’d run. He walked forward, slowly, carefully, but the open meadow held little cover even for creatures as small as goblin children. The gully was better, about four feet deep with a house on one side and several clumps of bushes nearby. They wouldn’t be safe in any house.
Tobin found a small door and knocked, calling quietly for the children to come out. No reply. He called that they wouldn’t be safe inside, that the soldiers were tearing all the houses open. No answer. But they had to be there! He was thinking about trying to crawl in when something tugged at the leg of his britches. Glancing down, he saw a small hand disappear into the brush. Staring through the tangled twigs, he met Onny’s eyes. She gestured away from the house, and he walked beside her as she crawled through the undergrowth.
He didn’t look down again—if anyone saw him it might betray the hiding place. Since he was no longer looking for the children, his eyes wandered over the battlefield.
He could tell it was almost over from the way the soldiers moved, relaxed and confident, as if the destruction of the goblins’ peaceful home was just a job. Like hunting vermin.
Smoke obscured parts of the scene, but the sight of the gutted houses sickened him. He saw a rider with three dead goblins tied to his saddle like pheasants, and a wave of hatred burned through him. He understood Makenna now. He hated these people for their casual violence. They didn’t know anything about the people they killed, didn’t even bother to find out about them, for they were only goblins. Now he understood the anger in Makenna’s eyes when he’d said she was human, too, for the thought of being one of them sickened him.
Three soldiers appeared at the top of the gully.
Onny froze, flattening against the earth. He couldn’t see the others, but he guessed they were hidden in the bushes between him and the soldiers. One of the men carried a torch.
“I want to see your commander,” Tobin told them. It was easy to make his voice cold. He tried to keep his anger out of it, but some of it got through and they exchanged uneasy glances.
“What do you want with him? Sir,” the mounted man asked, belatedly polite. A peasant, thank the Bright Ones—not likely to argue with a lord for long.
“That’s my business, goodman. But Master Lazur won’t thank you for keeping me waiting.”
They exchanged glances again at the name. “Well, sir, we’ll get in trouble if we break the line. We’ve got strict orders to open all the houses and search them.”
“I’m sorry.” He let his tone make it clear that he wasn’t sorry at all. “I can’t wait for that. You.” He gestured to the man with the torch. “You’ll guide me. You two can stay and carry out your duties.”
“But with just two of us, we’ll get behind,” the mounted man protested. “We’re supposed to open and burn everything—”
“Then I suggest you get started,” Tobin told him. “There’s a house right in front of you, another just ahead, and another past that one. If you stop arguing and get on with it, you should keep up. I’ll need your horse as well, for my ankle is injured. Now, goodman.”
A wave of relief washed over him as the man slid glumly from the saddle and took up a pick. The two of them attacked the house vigorously. Tobin kept the man with the torch beside him while he limped forward and made a fuss adjusting the stirrups till the other two men cast him a final glare and moved out of the gully and on to the next house.
Tobin mounted carefully—his ankle really was throbbing, now that he had time to notice it. The sun was about to set. With the line of searchers safely past, the children could stay where they were and escape under cover of darkness. Tobin had to fight against the impulse to look back as he rode away.
There were several delays, for no one at the small camp they’d set up a few miles from the clearing had any idea where Master Lazur was. They settled Tobin outside the big tent to wait. Through the open flaps he could see a desk, several traveling chairs, and the familiar row of spell books, their rich bindings out of place in the spartan command post. He thought there was another room behind the one he could see. It hardly mattered.
They gave him water and offered him food as well, but the thought turned his stomach. He was grateful when they left him alone. The sun set, and torches were lit. They reminded him of things he’d rather have forgotten.
He thought the children had gotten away safely, and Natter, too, but what about Erebus, who was slow and clumsy? And what had happened to Bocami, and Regg’s mother, and the others he had met? His imagination produced a vision of Erebus’ body tied to a saddle, and he hugged himself, shivering.
Suddenly another set of arms went around him. “You did it!” Jeriah’s voice proclaimed. “I knew it! I knew you could do it.”
“Jeri?”
He staggered stiffly to his feet, and his brother embraced him again, pounding his back. It was a terrible relief to hug him, to let loving arms wipe out the horror of the afternoon.
“Jeri, thank the Bright Ones you’re safe! When I heard—What were you doing at the settlement? Why are you here?”
“I’m serving Master Lazur now, remember? You were the one who set it up.”
“No, Mother arranged that. It worried me. What with him being a priest and you…and everything.”
“There were priests who were with us. I’ve been talking to Master Lazur a lot. He’s an interesting man.” Jeriah released him and looked him over anxiously, making certain he was all right, and Tobin scanned his brother in the same way. His last trace of concern over Jeriah vanished—he was bright eyed and energetic, obviously well. He was also clad in armor, dirty and scraped, as if he’d been in battle. Breaking open houses, perhaps?
“Jeri, you didn’t—Ah, I didn’t see you in the attack this afternoon. Were you there?”
“No,” said Jeriah cheerfully, and Tobin almost wept with relief. “I went with Master Lazur and the priests after the sorceress. She led us a demon’s chase, but we finally got her.”
“What!”
“We caught her. Look.”
They were pulling Makenna off a horse when Tobin’s searching gaze found her. Blood from a scrape above her eye had run over the gag and dried, gluing strands of tangled hair to her face. Her clothes were torn, and she was more filthy and battered than he had ever seen her, even when he’d captured her himself. And since he’d done it himself, he should have known it was possible for others to do it, but the sight of her, bound and surrounded by guards, stunned him, for he had come to think she was invincible. He had worried about the others—but it had never even crossed his mind that she might be caught.
She stumbled as they pulled her from the saddle, and half a dozen hands grabbed her, as if they feared she might break away from them even now. She straightened up, defiance in every line of her dirty, tattered figure. Her eyes, meeting Tobin’s over the stained gag, gleamed with courage and hate.
“We could never have done it without you, Tobin,” Jeriah told him. “When Master Lazur couldn’t find you—for days!—well, I was beginning to worry. But then he found the stone again, and we knew you must be all right. How did you manage to plant it where they made their battle plans? It was incredible. You’re incredible! Without you, we could never have found or beaten them. You’re a hero, brother! You’ve done it!”
Tobin closed his eyes, closing out Makenna’s hate and Jeriah’s joyous pride.
It was late before he finally got to see Master Lazur, for the priest was very busy. But when the flaps of the big tent opened, and the last group of men left, the priest drew him in and embraced him. Tobin didn’t flinch. Half the men in camp had slapped his shoulders and shaken his hand. Why not? He was the hero who located the sorceress’ base for them. For the dozenth time he choked down hysterical laughter, for he knew that if he started laughing, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
“Well done, Sir Tobin. Oh, don’t wince, my boy, you’ve earned that title, and it will be yours again officially as soon as we return to the city. And everything else I promised will be yours as well.”
“Yes. Ah, when will that be?” Carefully now. Tobin had never underestimated Master Lazur’s intelligence, and now was not the time to start.
“Probably in a few days. I think we’ll keep the sorceress alive for a bit. I’m hoping some of the goblins will attempt a rescue so we can exterminate them. Far too many escaped this afternoon.” He shook his head over the foolishness of the soldiers who’d broken the line. Tobin had already been told several times how the plan was supposed to have worked.
“I doubt we’ll get many,” the priest went on. “They have no loyalty, after all. They’ll be a nuisance to our settlers, I’m afraid, but without human leadership that’s all they’ll be. We’ll kill them off eventually.”
Tobin knew, with a sick conviction, that his last statement was right. Jeriah and his father weren’t the only ones who saw things in terms of right and wrong, with no middle ground.
“But what will happen to Ma—the mistress herself? That’s what they called her, you know.”
“Really? Interesting. I must find out how she enslaved them. We’ll use her as bait for a few days, then drown her. Dying curses and all that. We were worried when I couldn’t find you in the crystal for so long. Jeriah was frantic. Are you all right?”
“Oh, yes. I was ill for a while, but I’m fine now.”
He needed the details of Master Lazur’s plan—where she’d be kept, how she’d be guarded. But how to ask without making him suspicious?
“Yet I notice you’re limping.” Was there a trace of wariness in the kind gaze?
“I twisted my ankle when I tried to escape. It’s better now. Are you certain she can’t escape? She’s very tricky.”