by Robert Evert
Edmund faltered. “You . . . you know, you know about Kar-Nazar?”
“Anybody who truly understands the old tales knows what is happening in the north,” she said. “But you and I don’t have time to discuss them. You need to leave Eryn Mas immediately, or you may not live long enough to save your beloved Molly.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Edmund leaned against the trunk of a weeping willow along the rocky banks of the River Celerin, studying the notes and sketches he had frantically copied from the book lender’s tome. Thorax was by his side, picking apart the remains of a trout that they had caught earlier that afternoon. Above them, the budding branches of the willow swayed and rustled in the warm spring breeze, producing a sound like rain. Had circumstances been different, he would have been utterly content.
The book lender’s tome described every room in the tower, but it didn’t indicate what they were used for or where guards might be stationed. Still, with a thorough understanding of where the central stairs were located and how to get to the upper floors, Edmund was much better off than before. Now he just needed to figure out how to get into the tower and divert the attention of twenty thousand goblins.
The knights will know what to do.
They’re late.
Only by a day. They’re probably equipping everybody. Half the town will want to come. It’s probably a big production. They might not be able to find enough horses, so half of them will have to walk here.
Even if half of the able-bodied men of Rood come, we should have enough to create a substantial diversion, allowing me and the knights to sneak into the tower.
At least that many will show. Everybody loves Molly.
Edmund smiled, picturing Molly as a teenager, waving to the cheering crowd in Rood’s town square, tears of joy streaming down her pink cheeks as she was crowned Queen of the Spring Faire. She looked so beautiful with her hair done up. He always regretted not asking her to dance that night.
So many regrets . . .
You’ll take care of all of them once you rescue her.
Rescue . . .
His thoughts returned to how they’d get into the tower.
Don’t forget the men from the surrounding farms and ranches. A good many of them will be coming as well.
Edmund did a quick calculation in his head.
That should be at least fifty, maybe seventy-five.
An army of peasants, just like Iliandor led. It’s curious how history will be repeating itself.
I just hope they get here soon. I hate all of this waiting.
Tethered to a birch tree growing along the river’s bank, Blake thrashed his head, blowing air out of his nostrils and stomping.
“Somebody’s coming,” Edmund told Thorax.
Finally!
Grabbing Thorax, Edmund scrambled up the hill from which he could see the old East-West Road. Shielding his eye from the bright afternoon sun, he peered westward. Far below, two, maybe three, figures were moving toward him along the dirt track winding its way through the trees.
What? Where . . . where is everybody?
Maybe they’re only merchants or travelers that have nothing to do with us.
Edmund watched as the figures plodded closer.
It’s Pond and Norb!
Maybe they’re leading the way. Maybe the others are coming and they’re a little behind, out of view.
He scanned the distant green plains.
Maybe . . .
Leading a heavily-laden donkey up the slope, Pond waved up at him.
Edmund’s heart sank.
I’m sure there’s an explanation. Maybe the knights picked a different place to assemble, somewhere that’s more secure and secretive. That’s probably it. Stupid me. They couldn’t have ridden a hundred horses through these woods.
Edmund stared down at Norb and Pond.
Pond waved again.
“Where’s everybody?” Edmund called to them when they got closer. “Where, where are the knights? Wh-where . . . where are all the others?”
But Norb’s expression told him what his heart had already guessed.
This can’t be it . . .
From the river below, Blake whinnied.
“Where is everybody else?” Edmund called again.
“Nobody’s coming,” Norb said, reaching the hilltop. “Curse the miserable cowards!” He spit on the ground and glanced about the hills. “Where’s the army from Eryn Mas?”
Edmund stared westward in disbelief.
Nobody is coming? Nobody?
“But we have everything that you wanted, including some splendid weapons!” Pond said, patting the large bundles piled on top of the complaining donkey.
“I don’t believe this,” Edmund said, throwing up his hands. “Didn’t you tell them everything I told you? Did you tell them we know where Molly is?”
They nodded.
“A lot of people said they wanted to help,” Pond said. “But none of them are warriors, and they’re afraid.”
Norb threw a rock at a tree. It ricocheted against its trunk and tumbled down the hill. “They’re damn cowards. The whole lot of them! No luck with the King?”
Nobody . . .
Edmund couldn’t speak. He looked at them, his mouth moving, but no sound coming out.
“Figures,” Norb said, shaking his head. “Nobility isn’t worth a damn. The whole lot of them should be put to the sword. They’ll take your money and call it taxes, but they’re never around when you need them.”
“The knights don’t know what to believe,” Pond said in a calmer tone. “They didn’t exactly trust me. Besides, their primary concern now is protecting the town, with people disappearing and all.”
Clenching his teeth, Edmund glared off into the distance, veins forming bulging rivers just below his throbbing temples.
I can’t believe this!
They have an obligation to the town . . .
He stared back toward Rood, his face and neck turning a dark shade of purple.
How could they just forsake her?
They have to think of everybody else’s safety. They can’t jeopardize hundreds for just one person.
“They’re knights!” Edmund shouted to the hills. “Rescuing damsels in distress is what they’re trained to do. What . . . what about their honor? What about their oaths? Wh-what . . . what about—?” Edmund felt like he about to explode.
They have to think about what’s good for the entire town.
“They’re worthless,” Norb said, throwing another rock into a tree. “A waste of skin, all of them. Big Borst looked scared out of his wits when I told him about the goblins. So was Haverton. For all their talk and bluster, they’re both cowards. Same with those so-called knights. Highmen.” He scoffed. “I’m glad I stole their damn horse. I should have taken two.”
Frowning westward, Edmund shook his head in disgust, wondering what he was going to do now.
Molly . . .
Looking northeastward toward the grey mountain peaks, he imagined her crying helplessly in some dark and rank pit, begging to go home.
It’s up to me to save her.
Me . . .
Edmund exhaled. For once, everything seemed clear to him. The doubt in his head faded like cooling embers. He knew exactly what he had to do.
I’ll exchange my life for Molly’s.
He nodded to himself.
There’s no other way.
“Pond,” he said with an effort. “I want you to go with Norb. He can help you find work and a place to live in Rood.”
Norb and Pond both began shouting at the same time.
“No,” Norb said, guessing Edmund’s intentions. “I’m going with you.”
“Ed, think about what you’re doing.”
“I have to rescue her,” Edmund said, tightening his sword belt. “Go with Norb to Rood. Or maybe head south to Hillode or Rockdale. There should be some work for you there. Maybe you can start a new family.”
“I’m goin
g with you,” Norb said again.
“As am I,” Pond said, stepping forward.
“Thanks,” Edmund told them. “But—”
“But nothing,” Norb said. “If there is any chance that I . . . if there is any chance that we can save her—I’m going!”
Edmund considered the stable hand.
He’ll just get himself killed.
Everybody has the right to decide how they’re going to die. Besides, he might be able to cause a diversion in the mines while I sneak into the tower. If that doesn’t work . . . I’ll give myself up.
“Ed,” Norb insisted. “I’m not the drunk shoveler of shit that everybody thinks I am. I can help. Please!”
Edmund rubbed his face. He felt as if the life was draining out him, making him an empty shell that would crumple in on itself and blow away in the breeze. He took a deep breath.
“Okay.”
“I’m going as well!” Pond said.
Edmund beheld Pond. He appeared different now that his hair was clean and trimmed, and he was wearing actual clothes that fit. He seemed every bit like the successful textile merchant that Edmund imagined him to be prior to being captured, wealthy and respectable, a prosperous future in front of him.
He’s been a good friend despite how often I yell at him.
Without him, you’d never have survived your first day in the mines.
“Look, Pond,” Edmund said. “You’re v-v-very, very kind. But you don’t even know Molly.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“There’s a good chance that we aren’t going to make it,” Edmund went on. “And you know what the pits are like, what the goblins will do if they capture you again. Remember Vomit? They’ll slice your leg open just like they did to him. You’ll never be free again.” He put his hand on Pond’s shoulder. “Take Blake and ride home . . . and have a good life, okay?”
“Home?” Pond repeated, his voice going shrill. “Home? Ed, I don’t have a home! My home is a thousand miles away and ten years in the past. My family has moved on. They might even be dead, for all I know.” He gazed up at the blue sky, tears teetering on his eyelids. “Ed, I don’t know anybody in this world except you!”
He knows what he’s getting into, far more than Norb does.
Yes, but I don’t want him to get killed.
“Pond,” Edmund began, not knowing what else to say.
“Look,” Pond said, brushing the tears away. “You saved me. You risked your life coming back for me in the wet cells.”
“And you saved me in the pits,” Edmund replied. “Pond, you’re the only friend I have. I don’t want you to come because you think you owe me. You don’t owe me a damn thing.”
Pond threw up his hands, angry and despondent. “Then consider it revenge. The goblins took ten years of my life. And I want them to pay!”
There’s not a vengeful bone in his body.
“Please, Ed.”
Fighting off his own tears, Edmund patted Pond on the shoulder. “Take Blake and the donkey to Rood. Open a textile shop. If I return, you and I can go into business together, just like we said. We’ll call it ‘Pond and Ed’s.’”
“No,” Pond said, firmly. “I’m going or I’ll follow you. You’ll need me. Trust me.”
He knows what he’s getting into. Plus, he has experience hiding in the mines. Besides, three is better than two. Somebody can keep watch while the others sleep.
Maybe. I just don’t want to see him get dragged back to the pits or the wet cells. I couldn’t bear it.
Maybe with three of you, you won’t have to turn yourself in. Maybe you could sneak into the tower while Norb and Pond cause a distraction. Maybe the three of you can free some slaves and cause an uprising. They brought extra weapons.
Maybe . . .
“I’m going,” Pond said.
Defeated, Edmund stared at Thorax.
“I don’t suppose you’d go back to Rood if I told you to,” he said to her.
She sat down next to him.
You’re wasting time.
Sighing again, Edmund nodded. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Edmund and Thorax crouched behind a moss-covered boulder halfway up one of the forested foothills in the northern Haegthorn Mountains. He drew forth his scimitar. Norb and Pond had brought many weapons from Rood—bows, swords, knives. But, in the end, Edmund decided to keep his goblin blade.
It’s served me well enough thus far. No need to go changing now.
From behind the boulder, he studied the shallow dell a hundred yards beyond the trees. In it was the black iron door through which Edmund would have escaped from the goblin mines had it not been for the bitter cold. All seemed still and quiet. Even the birds seemed watchful. The shadows deepened as the evening sky slowly turned a darker shade of indigo. Stars started to twinkle.
He hooted like a horned owl.
Norb ran up, throwing himself beside Edmund, clutching the hefty battle ax that he stole from one of the knights occupying Rood. It was an impractical weapon for the close confines of the mines. But Norb wouldn’t listen to reason. He kept muttering how he was going to split every goblin he met in two.
Edmund hooted again.
Pond ran up the slope next, waving a gem-encrusted rapier that was more ceremonial than functional. The entire fortnight since leaving the River Celerin, Pond kept prattling on about how pretty and light it was.
As long as he doesn’t get himself killed, he can fight with a pillow for all I care. It’s all up to me, anyway.
Up to me . . .
“What do you think, girl?” Edmund asked Thorax. “Is anybody around?”
Sniffing the air, Thorax growled silently.
Let’s hope there are only a few guards.
And that they don’t suspect anything. If they’re waiting for you, all is lost.
Edmund inspected his companions through the growing darkness. Holding his ax like he was throttling somebody, Norb appeared to need a stiff drink. Humming next to him, Pond polished the sapphires on the hilt of his sword with his sleeve.
They’re going to get killed. Both of them.
Then you won’t die alone.
“Leave the packs here,” Edmund whispered.
Nodding, they unslung their shoulder straps.
Edmund signaled for everybody to huddle together.
“Remember,” he whispered. “Stick to the plan. I’ll knock the first one down and push into the room. The two of you have to finish him off quickly and come in for the rest.”
“All right,” Pond said.
Norb snarled as if summoning the courage to go through with something he’d rather not think about.
“If they have shields,” Edmund went on, “swing low. Clip their legs out from under them. Then finish them off. Above all, make sure nobody is able to escape or blow a horn. Do you need me to draw you the diagram of the guard’s chamber again?”
They shook their heads.
“If you’re scared,” Edmund said, “if you don’t want to do this—”
“Let’s kill them,” Norb muttered.
“Yes,” Pond said. “They took ten years of my life. Let’s kill them all.”
Surprised by the anger in his voice, Edmund turned to his pit mate.
“You saved my life,” Pond said. “I’m with you on this, no matter what.”
I’ll never forgive myself if he dies . . .
“Thanks, Pond. That means a great deal to me. You too, Norb. Thanks to both of you. At the very least, we’ll kill a few goblins.”
Edmund scanned the hill above them.
It’s dark enough. Come on, let’s go!
Closing his eye, Edmund pictured what he could remember of the guardroom on the other side of the black iron door. He imagined three, maybe four, guards sitting around the wooden table, unprepared for the assault that he was about to unleash. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his scimitar as he envisioned how he would burst in, cut off any chance of
retreat, and begin killing every goblin he found.
He exhaled.
“Let’s go save Molly.”
Scrambling up the slope, they left the fragrant fir and cedar trees and darted into the shallow dell. Closed, the iron door stood black and imposing in the starlight.
Edmund pointed to where he wanted everybody to be. Taking a deep breath, he pushed gently on the door’s handle.
It was locked, but Edmund had anticipated that.
You better hope this works.
If it doesn’t, I’ll find another way in.
Touching the narrow visor through which the guards could view the outside, Edmund cast his enlargement spell. The visor swelled, its metal crinkling as it became jammed inside its track. At the same time, Edmund pounded on the door with the pummel of his scimitar as he guessed an angry goblin would, returning from a long hunt.
There was movement on the other side.
“Password,” a goblin voice said from inside. Somebody tried to open the visor and cursed.
Edmund kept hammering as if he hadn’t heard.
“All right! All right!” The goblin cursed again, fumbling with the door.
Readying himself, Edmund looked at Thorax and then Norb and Pond. Holding their breath, they tensed, weapons held high. Edmund continued pounding on the door.
It opened.
“All right! I said. No need to—”
Edmund seized the startled goblin by the throat and yanked him into the dell.
Norb’s battle ax swung down.
There was a crack of a skull splitting in two as Edmund bounded into the guard chamber.
Inside, three guards clad in full chain mail sat at a wooden table stained with dried blood. Shouting, they sprang to their feet and snatched their weapons. Jumping in front of the tunnel leading to the goblin city, Edmund cut off their escape, as Pond and Norb stormed in.
One of the goblins reached for a horn hanging from a peg. But Thorax bit deeply into his knee. Falling to the floor, the goblin howled. Stomping on his chest, Pond stabbed him through his neck with his rapier. Blood spurted up in the air as the goblin flailed and gagged. Pond stabbed him again and again, cutting open the goblin’s throat.