by LJ Rivers
First, I released five small orbs of fire. They glowed red in the dark, hovering in a circle over Pullhelli and me. One by one I wrapped them in tiny force fields, which intensified the crimson shine. With my palms out in front of me, I pushed the orbs towards the guard, spreading them along the top of the wooden gate and wall at ten-yard intervals. The other guards, who had been hidden in the dark, came into view.
“Open the gate, please, Goblin, and let me speak with your leaders. I have serious matters to discuss, which demand their immediate attention.”
I sent a final surge of magic into the fireballs, increasing their heat so they turned yellow, almost white. It was like turning on the floodlights on a football stadium. Several of the guards shielded their eyes.
“Stop that, will you?” the first Goblin shouted. “You will destroy our night vision for the next half awr, you sapling!”
“Whoops. Didn’t think of that.” Giggling, I pulled the force fields and fireballs back so fast they left light trails in the dark night. As they slipped back under my skin, I welcomed the burning sensation. I loved the feeling of control.
“Open the gate!” the Goblin guard commanded. “Take the visitors to the Tri Seren!”
A series of sounds from inside the gate ensued, heavy thuds and metallic squeals, and then a crack in the gigantic gate appeared. I had expected the gates to open fully, but the crack never grew past a couple of feet.
“I think that’s it.” Pullhelli started towards the gate.
I followed, and after he had slipped sideways inside, I did too.
Six Goblins awaited us, sickles and scythes by their side, as the huge gate slammed shut behind my back.
“I’m Kyffin the Gatekeeper,” said the one in front. “I’ll escort you to the Tri Seren. Keep your magic at bay until our leaders say otherwise, and you’ll not be harmed.”
The four-foot Goblin soldier looked serious, and although I could probably take him and his five colleagues out with at least three of my magical powers, I nodded. “As you command, Gatekeeper. I’m honoured to meet you.”
He turned on his heels and started down the road. Or rather, when I looked around, I couldn’t call it a road anymore. The path had widened into a dirt road as soon as Pullhelli and I had descended the hill, and there were several wheel tracks. Inside the wall, however, the dirt seemed more like modern day asphalt, and alongside it the grass was neatly trimmed. Every twenty yards there was a lamppost, illuminating the street.
We reached the first houses, and again I was struck by the neatness of it all. They were all made of the same white-washed stone as I had seen in Gwyn Tala Port, but none had more than the one floor. The roofs were clad in green, compact turf, every edge was decorated with colourful flowers. Streets and alleys criss-crossed between the houses, all with the same hard surface. There were even narrow ditches next to some of the roads, in which thin streams of water flowed. At certain intervals, a ditch would have grey or brownish water in it.
There were sewer channels in Avalen, too, but nothing like this. These Goblins were way ahead of anyone else with regard to sanitary engineering, and I suspected their descendants on Earth might have a thing or two to do with the sewers of the cities during the coming centuries.
After a ten-minute walk, during which we had seen no local residents, which I found rather odd, we arrived at an opening. The triangle-shaped town square, I assumed.
In the middle of the square, at the convergence point of the street we were walking on and two others just like it, a giant spear rose from the ground. It was pyramid shaped, about ten feet wide at the base, which was hidden behind the Goblin crowd. Fifty feet up, it looked sharp as a needle, and in the light from the hundreds of lanterns around the square, its steel plates shone like silver.
“Tri Seren,” Pullhelli whispered. “Star of the Three. It’s where all important decisions are made.”
I could see why we hadn’t met any of the inhabitants yet. Around the Tri Seren, several hundred Goblins had gathered, young and old alike. They stood in the three sectors between the roads, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if they represented the three sections of the city, and as such, the whole territory.
Kyffin the Gatekeeper stopped as we reached the crowd. He unhooked a horn from his belt and blew a booming note out into the sky. The Goblin finished the ten-second note and put the horn back in his belt.
“Tri Seren of Pentrefan Cyll,” he bellowed, and again I was struck by the sheer volume of the voice that emanated from his small frame. “Ruby of Morgana, Queen of Avalon, wishes to address you.”
Mumbling spread among the Goblins surrounding the silver needle in the centre.
“Bring her forth,” an equally impressive voice replied.
Kyffin stepped aside and motioned for me and Pullhelli to pass him.
I inclined my head at him. “Thank you, Gatekeeper.”
The Goblins that lined the street stared at us. A little girl raised her hand to wave, but she was quickly pulled back by someone I guessed was her mother. I smiled at the woman, but she didn’t return it. In fact, every single one of them looked less than pleased to have us in their city.
Finally, the base of the spear appeared. There were three chairs, each with a Goblin in it. I stopped ten steps in front of them and bowed my head in respect.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” I said. “I wish to—”
“You want us to join your army,” said the Goblin in the middle.
“Gethin the Wise,” Pullhelli said under his breath.
Blodwen sat on his right side, and to Gethin’s left sat the female leader, Trys-Tain. Blodwen and Gethin could have joined a line-up of Goblins without sticking out at all. Put them in white frocks, and they could both have subbed for Hugo, the head of Mum’s sanctuary back in Chester.
Trys-Tain, however, looked nothing like I had expected. In my head, I had figured a typical Goblin woman, which in my limited world view meant Mari or her sister, Tabitha, both short, stocky Goblin women in their fifties. Trys-Tain was young, perhaps no more than thirty, had yellow hair that almost looked like it was on fire, and that reached all the way to the ground next to her chair. Her features were delicate, almost doll-like, with high cheekbones and a silky smooth skin. Yet there was something in her emerald green eyes. A certain spark. I could see the warrior in her.
“I do,” I replied. “As you may or may not know, my—”
“Your father,” Gethin interrupted me for the second time, “the Sorcerer king of Mynydd Dewin, has taken your Avalonian throne, and you want us to help you reclaim it.”
It wasn’t a question so much as a statement of facts.
“Yes,” I replied. “While it is not my primary goal to sit on the throne, it is a means to an end. That end is for the people of Avalon and her allies and neighbours to be safe.”
“Are you saying we are not safe with Auberon at the helm?”
“I am,” I said decisively.
“Correct me if I am wrong, Fae queen,” Trys-Tain interjected, “but did he not rule Mynydd Dewin for a long time before Y Noson Hir?” She didn’t await my answer to her obviously rhetorical question. “And did we not live quietly and safely in Awarnach while he ruled the territory on the other side of the border?”
I took a couple of steps forward. “Unless you count the many slaves he took, I would agree.”
She smoothed out the folds on her velvety skirt. “A hefty price to pay for peace, but the alternative was far worse.”
“I see your point, milady, but—”
Trys-Tain threw her head back in laughter, and her fellow leaders joined in. I bit my tongue, patiently waiting for them to regain their composure.
“There are no ladies here, Your Majesty,” she finally said, still chuckling. “Nor any lords or other nobles. Goblins are Goblins, and none are above any other.”
“But your people listen to the three of you, don’t they?”
Gethin leaned forward. “Only while they choose
to have us in these seats. If they are not happy with our rule, they will replace us. The only difference between our way and yours is that we don’t remove our leaders by the edge of a sword.”
I drew my breath, trying to keep a calm face. I could tell it would be a hard sell to get these people to join me.
“I have seen the future of Gwyn Fanon,” I said. “Not just Avalon or Mynydd Dewin, but the fate of Awarnach, Talani, and even Ygrenya in the north, too. It is grim, to say the least.”
“You have Truesight, we have heard,” Gethin said. “But how can we trust your words to be as true as what you believe to have seen?”
“I have the beads of reverie.” The ultimate trump card, I hoped.
“Yes, we have heard that, too. Even if we were to take your potion and see your vision, there is no guarantee that this vision is the actual future. As the Sorcerer by your side is well aware, Truesight can show you a possible future. Is it not so, Pullhelli?”
I shouldn’t have been surprised that the Goblin knew my great-uncle. After all, Pullhelli had roamed the realm of Gwyn Fanon for decades before I came here.
The old Sorcerer cleared his throat and came closer. “It is, Gethin the Wise. In any other circumstances I would have been sceptical to take this particular vision as more likely than any other. But this Fae is special. Unless we make an actual effort to change what is to come, I’m certain her vision of the future will unfold. As you know from your gatekeeper, whose word I suspect reached you before we did, she holds magic beyond that of a Fae. She carries the blood of Morgana alongside that of Merlin in her veins. I urge you to take her beads and see for yourselves.”
Gethin stood, as did his fellow leaders, and came towards us. “Your Majesty, we don’t doubt your noble goal, nor do we doubt your conviction about what you have seen. The question we need to ask ourselves is whether we believe it worthy of sacrificing so many Goblins in your war.”
“I understand,” I said.
“We will think about it until the morrow. In the meantime, you may signal your friends in the forest. The Changelings can stay outside our walls, as they have no problems finding food and shelter.”
“Thank you.”
“And as we have discussed our matters for today, your other friends may join you now.”
I squinted at him.
“My … other friends?”
He motioned with his hand down the second street, the one pointing southwest. “They have patiently waited for us to conclude our meeting, which we appreciate. Please, Commander, join us.”
Up the street, between the Goblin crowd, came a group of men and women, led by a seven-foot tall, muscular man clad in Crimson, who flashed a rare smile my way.
I gawked. “Taryn?”
“My Queen!”
Chapter Twenty-One
I almost ditched all etiquette, but knowing Taryn, I didn’t want to embarrass him by throwing my arms around him. Instead, I returned his smile and took his hand between mine. “Good to see you, Commander.”
The young man next to him, however, got the full package. “Alun!” I pulled him into an embrace. “My heart cheers, kiddo.”
The manticore squeezed me hard. “Mine too.”
I let go of him and backed up. “But why are you here? We were supposed to meet up in Pixilen.”
“Yeah, about that.” Alun stepped aside, revealing who was standing behind him. “We had to make some adjustments to that plan.”
The man was wearing armour on his shoulders, knees and ankles, as well as chainmail on his upper torso. His hands were protected by shining metal gauntlets, with brass inserted at the joints and knuckles, and under his left arm he held his helmet. It was cylindrical in shape, and a brass inlay divided it in half from top to bottom. The eye-slits were also framed by the same, ornamented brass, and, combined, the golden decorations formed a cross.
“Sir Galahad?”
“At your service, My Queen,” the knight said, unsheathing his sword. He kneeled and placed the tip of his blade on the ground, holding his hands straight out on the hilt. “I bring you my personal guard, ready to fight for your queendom.”
As if on cue, which I supposed it was, the sound of pounding footsteps emerged from further down the street. Moments later, a troop of soldiers came marching around the bend. There were five in each row, spanning the width of the hard surface, and as they approached us, more and more soldiers joined.
The previously quiet and rather serious looking Goblins cheered and waved. What was this? A prearranged parade?
I leaned forward to the now risen Galahad. “How many are they?” I had to shout, as the rhythmic thunder of the soldiers’ boots boomed across the triangle-shaped square.
“One hundred and twenty-five, My Queen.” He raised his chin.
The soldiers wore midnight blue cloaks, all with the familiar M embroidered in gold-coloured thread. Morgana had told me about the various colours of each reeve and their personal guard, and I couldn’t recall her mentioning a midnight blue for any of the two dozen reeves. That colour was reserved for her personal army, with the two special divisions of the Crimsons and Junipers being the exceptions. Under their red and green cloaks, however, even the latter wore this shade of blue.
“My spies told me news of your visit to Pixilen has reached Auberon’s ears,” Galahad said. “He might send soldiers there to ensure I am either loyal or …” He drew his finger across his throat. “Have that blade-wielding fox of his make me a head shorter.”
I shuddered. “Yes, that seems to be her new pastime.”
“So, I decided it would be better to go on a hunting trip on the Ygrenya Plains. If he comes to my castle, he will find our storage rooms practically empty, and he knows my passion for hunting.”
“Say what you want about my father,” I said, “but he’s not stupid.”
He tilted his head. “That he is not. I have no false hopes he will accept the explanation for my absence, but as neither my personal guard nor I will be present, I trust he will simply install his soldiers in my castle without any resistance.”
“But won’t your people disapprove?”
“They will play their part. In five days, my remaining soldiers, all under Commander Yorath’s authority, will cross the sea and go to South Pew. He will also bring any other able-bodied Pixie to the fishing village, where they will await further orders. They should be about six thousand in total, give or take a few.”
“Your Majesty.” Pullhelli tapped my shoulder. “We should signal for your brother and the others.”
“What? Oh, right. Yes, of course.” With the arrival of Galahad and his soldiers, as well as Taryn and Alun, I had completely forgotten about them.
“Stand back a little.” I held my hands out. The Goblins retreated, as did Galahad and the soldiers. Calling upon my fire magic, I produced two glowing orbs in each palm. They were about the size of tennis balls, and when I ordered them to fly upwards, they sounded like New Year’s Eve fireworks, whooshing two hundred yards straight up.
There was a collective “ooh” from the Goblins, and many of the children pointed at the sky. I only wished I could make the fireballs explode into hundreds of coloured sparks, but the four of them made a pretty awesome job of lighting up the sky as it was.
“That should get their attention,” Pullhelli said.
I turned to the three Goblin leaders under the Tri Seren monument. “Something tells me you have already sent people out to meet my companions.”
Trys-Tain leaned back. “We have known about you since you started your ascent up Afal Bryn, young Fae. This city has survived for centuries, not for its strength in war, but its ability to avoid it.”
My shoulders slumped. They were going to think about my question until tomorrow, but the Goblin woman’s words didn’t give me much hope.
“You may use my cottage for the night,” she continued. “There is room for you and your party.” She pointed at a small house, only slightly bigger than those we had walke
d past earlier. “Supper should be ready in a few moments.”
“That is very kind of you, mil—Trys-Tain,” I said. “But we don’t want to be any trouble.”
“Sharing food and lodging is never trouble for a Goblin. It is our way.” With that, she followed her fellow leaders, heading for the northernmost cottage.
“She will stay with Gethin and his family,” Alun said. “Don’t worry, her house is much bigger on the inside than it appears from here.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I bumped his shoulder. “Wait, you’ve been there?”
“For the last two days.” His angelic face lit up. “Galahad, Taryn, and I. The soldiers have set up camp west of the wall.”
I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around what was going on. “Then let’s go, I guess. We have a lot to talk about when Brendan and the others get here. Might as well do it while eating.”
“Sounds perfect.” He slapped his rock-hard abs. “I haven’t eaten in awrs.”
“Two full awrs,” Taryn said sarcastically. “I don’t understand where you put all that food.”
The Goblins of Pentrefan Cyll had started to disperse. Still, as we strolled towards Trys-Tain’s cottage, many stopped to greet us, either verbally or by smiling and waving.
“I hope you can take Avalon back,” one man said. “We all support you.”
“Thank you, that means a lot,” I replied. As I crossed the threshold and stepped inside Trys-Tain’s cottage, I feared a pat on the back and good luck wishes were all the support I would get from the Goblins in the morning.
“What’s the deal with hiding the actual size of their homes?” Charlie had just come inside, as part of the last group Kyffin the Gatekeeper had fetched by the gate. “Is it a tax thing, or what?” She closed the door behind her and stared at the criss-crossing beams in the ceiling. The main room had much of the same décor as Halwyn’s, with lots of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling as well as on the walls.
“It looked maybe twenty feet wide and thirty deep from the outside. This room alone is at least three times that.” She gestured at the far corner to her left, where a staircase spiralled upwards. “And there’s another floor?”