“Really?” Simon looked at Brethia. “I thought that you were familiar with those mounds?”
“I am, sir wizard. But Sessa is quite a bit younger than I. He was created long after we were denied the ability to visit this world. He has no experience with such things.”
“Now wait just a moment,” the other air elemental protested. “I have studied with our older brethren. I have learned what I needed to know to become a good scout.”
Wow, Simon thought. The air elementals have a school for scouts? Cool.
“Have you?” Brethia asked. She seemed amused. “So why did you not recognize that structure?”
“I...”
Sessa frowned and looked down. He finally shrugged and looked at them.
“I do not know. I will have to inquire when we get home.”
“Good idea,” Simon told him. “But for the moment, please just tell us what happened.”
“Oh! Of course, my lord. I beg your pardon. But if I may inquire, what were those creatures that I encountered?”
“Goblins. You were attacked by goblins.”
“Goblins,” Sessa repeated in amazement. “So that's what they were.”
He drew himself up and rose from the desk an inch or so, which Simon considered to be a good sign.
“I was on the third day of my mission when I first spotted the mound, my lord. Up until that point, I had seen no signs of life except for plants and trees. And birds; many, many birds. It seems that the flying creatures have survived the depredations of both dragons and goblins down there.”
“There aren't many in this part of the country anymore,” Simon interjected. “But last year we saw a few Canada geese fly by heading north to nest and then, three months ago, a few more flew by to winter in the south. It was thrilling, to be honest. There were more chickadees and robins around last summer as well.”
Sessa waited patiently while the wizard spoke, nodding silently.
“They are surprisingly hardy creatures, it seems,” he said when Simon was done. “At any rate, there were no animals to be seen that did not have wings. It was disquieting.”
He floated slowly over to the picture of the goblin and looked at it pensively.
“I approached the mound carefully, invisible. The one that I encountered was massive, hundreds of feet in circumference and perhaps a hundred feet high. Along the base were numerous round openings leading into darkness, but I avoided them. The warm stench that rolled out of them was revolting; like mounds of rotting corpses and garbage had been left to putrefy in the sun. Instead I made my way carefully to the top of the structure.”
He looked from the elementals to Simon and then pointed at the drawing of the mound.
“That arch on top in the sketch was also atop the one that I was scouting. I was intrigued and wanted to examine it more closely.”
“Oh my friend,” Brethia said gently. “That was such an error in judgment.”
“Yes, I know,” Sessa said and hung his head in embarrassment. “As you and I are the only ones of our kind I see here, I may assume that the others were captured as well, perhaps by being, like myself, overly curious.”
“You were just doing your job,” Simon told him, trying to sound encouraging. “How could you have known how dangerous it was?”
“I should have known, my lord,” the elemental replied wearily. “We all should have known. Brethia is the oldest among those sent to scout. She knew. We should have too. But we did not.”
“At any rate,” he continued, “I made my way to the top of the structure to examine the arch. It was an amazing thing, made of some sort of blue stone, shot through with veins of gold; quite lovely actually. But around the arch were the remains of dozens, possibly hundreds of animals. And not just animals. There were many rotting goblin corpses as well, their chests split open, headless, mutilated in numerous ways. I did not recognize these creatures; if I had, I would have retreated at once.” He sighed. “I should have done so anyway, but I was confused. I wondered why there were bodies lying around the arch, exposed to the daylight. It was very perplexing to me.”
“Ritual sacrifice,” Brethia said flatly. Sessa stared at her in horror. “They use the power released by the physical body at the time of death to infuse their spells with energy. It is the darkest, bloodiest sort of magic there is.”
She looked at Simon.
“Sir wizard, I was pursued by a goblin patrol while I was waiting at the rendezvous point; that is why I was so exhausted when I returned. They used spells to detect my presence and to attack me. It was only by sheer luck that I managed to escape and make my way back.”
She tapped the picture of the mound.
“Goblin magic is crude and weak at best, unless they perform these rituals to boost their power. Then it can be truly dangerous.”
“I see,” Simon said thickly, disgusted by what he was hearing. “Please go on, Sessa.”
“Yes, my lord. Well, I could make no sense of the carnage that I was seeing and finally decided that it might be best to get a safe distance away from something that was so obviously dedicated to the dark gods. Unfortunately, I had waited a moment too long. As I was turning to descend the mound, the arch began humming; a weird, eerie screech of sound. It was glowing a dirty purple color and I found myself unable to move. Then a streak of this thick, dark light engulfed me and I found myself...elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere?” Kronk repeated. “You did not know where you were?”
“No. I can only surmise in retrospect that I was transported deep inside of the mound itself. I was bound to some sort of stone table by chains of pure energy and surrounded by creatures very similar to the one in the drawing. They were all gibbering and laughing insanely. The smell was beyond description. The crude walls were decorated with bones and flayed, dried skin and lit with guttering torches. My invisibility had been negated and I was essentially helpless.”
“What happened?” Simon asked as Sessa seemed to be drifting off into the horrible memory.
“Someone else entered the small room. The goblins ceased their capering and hooting and stood back respectfully and let the figure pass. It was another goblin, but this one wore robes of dark red. By the smell, I can only assume that they had been dyed with blood. It held a crooked staff and its skin was hanging in folds off of its face and body. The skin was green, as if the creature was laced with gangrene.” Sessa shuddered. “But it was the eyes, the insane, glowing red eyes, that caught and held my gaze. The magic-user, for that was obviously what it was, began to chant and power lashed me like a burning wire. I have never felt such pain. And over and over again, it kept asking in words that I barely understood where I was from and what I was doing there. Over and over again. And every question was followed by a whip of agonizing power.”
Sessa turned away from them, shoulders hunched, and floated across the desk to hover at the far edge; a sad and broken-looking figure.
“And what did you tell them?” Kronk asked harshly.
Simon looked at him in surprise.
“Kronk, go easy on him. After what he's been through...”
For the first time that the wizard could remember, the earthen ignored him completely. He tapped across the desk, peered into Sessa's face and repeated the question, his expression not one of anger, but of fear.
“Tell them?” the air elemental repeated weakly. He drew himself up, looking almost like Aeris in that moment, proud and bold.
“Nothing! I told them nothing!”
Kronk took a few steps back but the elemental pursued him.
“How dare you even ask me that!” Sessa spat angrily. “I may be young and stupid, but I would never betray the one who summoned me. Never! If the wizard had not called me back in time, I would have died rather than betray him.”
“I...yes of course, I see,” Kronk said contritely. “Forgive me. My only concern is for my master's welfare.”
Sessa seemed to deflate and shook his head.
“No, it i
s I who should ask your pardon. That was...unseemly. But death would have been preferable to the shame I would have had to live with if I had betrayed a master.” He looked up at Simon. “And I think I can confidently say that if my fellow scouts have been destroyed, they too went to their dooms without telling those creatures anything.”
Simon looked at Brethia who was watching with an expression of pride on her face. She caught his look and smiled bitterly.
“He is correct, my lord. None of my people would betray you. That is one of the reasons the ancient wizards trusted us as scouts; our loyalty is unquestioned and unshakable.”
The wizard nodded.
“I know that,” he said, to both air elementals. “I've learned all about that from Aeris. Kronk knows too but, as you might have noticed, he's a bit of a worrywart.”
“I would not use that expression, master,” the earthen said a bit defensively.
“I know that, my friend, but it's true all the same.”
Simon read through the list of names and found the last scout's name.
“So far, you and Brethia are the only ones to answer my summons,” he told Sessa. “I want to try the last name on the list before we go any further, so could you all clear the center of the desk please?”
The three elementals moved back to give Simon room and he glanced at the name again and took a deep breath.
“Verissa, I need you!” he called out.
They all waited as the silence stretched out for several minutes and then both Brethia and Sessa bowed their heads.
“Two of us,” Brethia said in a voice heavy with sadness. “All that is left of our party. Our realm has not lost three of our people for millennia. Our lord with be furious.”
“I don't blame him,” Simon said tightly. “I share his fury. These goblins are a horror.” He ran his fingers through his hair and pushed it off of his face.
“And to think that they were once human. The lords of Chaos have a lot to answer for.”
After a long moment, Brethia approached the wizard and hovered in front of him.
“My lord, if you have no further need of us, Sessa and I should return home. We must report what has happened to our leaders, who will in turn break the news to our ruler.”
“I suspect he already knows,” Sessa said as he floated over to join her.
“Yes, I suspect so. Do we have your permission to withdraw, sir wizard?”
“Yes, of course you do.”
Simon looked from one small, translucent face to the other.
“But before you go, please know how sorry I am for your loss. If I had, even for a moment, suspected that there was danger in the mission I gave you, I never would have sent any of you in the first place.”
“My lord,” Sessa said with a sad smile. “If you had known of the danger, you would not have needed us at all.”
“We were doing what we do best, sir wizard,” Brethia added. “What we were trained for. Do not reproach yourself for the outcome. Rather, if I may be so bold as to suggest this, prepare yourself. One day, if these goblins continue to expand their territory, you will have to face them. Now you at least know that they exist. Be ready.”
“Oh I will be, believe me,” Simon told her grimly. “They killed people who were doing me a service. I won't forget that, and I certainly won't forgive it.”
“Did you hear that?” Sessa whispered to Brethia. “He called us people!”
Simon looked away, pretending not to hear the comment, and put a hand over his mouth to hide his smile.
Both of the elementals bowed to the wizard and nodded to Kronk, who smiled and gave them a little wave. Then as one, they disappeared with two little pops of imploding air.
Simon carefully picked up a pencil and scratched off the names of the three dead elementals from his list. Then he opened a drawer and slipped the paper inside.
He sat back and rubbed his eyes wearily.
“So now what do we do?” he asked Kronk as he leaned back in his chair.
“Now master? I do not know. Wait for Aeris to return, I suppose. And I think it would be wise to get as much information on these goblins as you can. Forewarned is forearmed, isn't it?”
“True, but where do I get info on what, until a few minutes ago, I thought were mythical monsters?”
He waved at the shelves lining the walls of the study, stuffed with books.
“I don't know that I'll learn many real facts in the fantasy books I have in my collection.”
Simon picked up his teacup, took a sip and grimaced. It was cold.
“Come on, let's go back downstairs. I want to make some fresh tea.”
Before he could stand up, Kronk picked up the mirror and offered it to him.
“And why do I need this?”
“Because, master, you need information. And who better to ask about a subject like goblins than your friend Daniel? If he does not know more than you do, the elves will.”
Simon took the mirror and smiled down at the little guy.
“Brilliant idea,” he told him as he got up. He took the mirror and his cup and left the room, Kronk tip-tapping along behind him.
“Not really, master. Just sensible, I suppose.”
Down on the main level, Simon made his tea. He waited for the kettle to boil and watched the light begin to fade through the windows as the deep winter night approached.
“I will double-check the gates and do a perimeter sweep while you call your friend, master,” Kronk told him as he skittered across to the front door.
“Nervous?” Simon asked him. He tried to sound like he was joking and failed.
“Cautious, master. And I want to speak with my fellow elementals. I have an idea on how we can strengthen the wards on the gates. They are the one weak spot in our tower's defenses.”
“That's true.”
Simon sat down with his tea and watched the little guy curiously.
“What's your idea?”
“I would rather not say until I get the others' opinions, master. It may not be practical.”
The earthen smiled, jumped up to open the door and slammed it shut behind him, leaving Simon alone, wondering.
How could the little guy make the perimeter any more secure than it already was? The gates were the only part of the wall that could be opened, so the wards, which had to remain in a permanent position, had to be placed on the wall on both sides of the opening, which weakened them. Simon couldn't think of a way to strengthen the magic any more than he had.
Maybe bury the ward stones under the gates, he thought. But no, they'd tried that. The ground absorbed the magic and dissipated it, making it useless.
He ended up shaking his head and leaving it to Kronk to work out. He had a call to make.
Simon cast the Magic Mirror spell and drank tea while he waited for the surface of the glass to clear. He kept an image of Daniel's face firmly in his mind and wondered with a stab of guilt if his oldest friend was okay. With all that had happened that day, the war between the elves and the brown dragons had slipped from his mind completely.
The image in the mirror solidified and the figure of Daniel appeared. He was sitting at a large round table. It was covered with an ornate cloth stitched with beautiful patterns of green leaves and colorful flowers. There were cups and plates of silver set out and, on either side of his friend was an elf, both of whom were speaking earnestly to Daniel.
His friend had rested an elbow on the arm of his chair and cupped his chin in his hand as he listened to one of the elves. He was nodding every few seconds and his expression was one of intense interest.
Simon waited for a few minutes. He did not want to interrupt what was obviously a very important meeting and so he listened to the conversation, feeling a bit like a peeping tom, but curious about what was being said.
“We cannot attempt a frontal assault, Daniel, so please stop suggesting it,” the elf to Daniel's left said with obvious exasperation. He was dressed in ornate robes of blue and silver, l
ong black hair flowing down to his collar.
“Ellar, I'm not suggesting a suicidal attack,” his friend replied, sounding equally tense. “But these guerrilla tactics are doing nothing. You are fleas attacking a herd of elephants. An attack on a lone dragon, killing it, and I'm not speaking of the primal brown now, would send a message to the rest of its kind and, possibly, slow down their advance.”
“It is equally possible, my friend, that it would enrage them and make them redouble their attacks,” the second elf said.
Simon looked at her closely. The woman was the oldest looking elf that he'd ever seen. They were an immortal species, but this female's face was crisscrossed with fine lines and wrinkles and her skin was so thin that he could see the network of veins beneath it.
Her hair was pure white but very fine and pulled back from her aged face in a long braid. She wore a simple dress of fine green material, buttoned up to her neck.
“At the moment, the draconic horde is at least somewhat predictable,” she continued in a strong voice at odds with her appearance.
“We know how far they expand in a day and we adjust our tactics to compensate for that expansion.”
“But you are constantly pulling back, Willia,” Daniel replied heavily. “You can only run so far before you will be forced to turn and fight. Is it not better to do so at a time and place of your own choosing rather than of the dragons?”
The male elf stood up slowly and smiled gently down at Daniel.
“We shall cross that bridge if and when we reach it, my friend. Until then, the 'guerrilla tactics', as you call them, shall continue. We are doing some damage, after all. We have destroyed many drakes and lost very few of our own people.”
“You're just swatting flies,” Daniel said bitterly.
Ellar shook head and walked away.
“Why do you persist in baiting him?” the old woman asked him and Simon watched his friend shrug. He looked tired again.
“Because I must. And I'm not baiting him; I'm advising him. Not that he listens very often. Willia, if there is one thing my people know, it is war. The gods know we spent thousands of years slaughtering each other to perfect our technique. And I will tell you this: wars are not fought and won from the shadows. Wars are won by sound tactics and by being aggressive. The elves are, I'm afraid, much too passive, and the dragons know it.”
The Dragons of Decay Page 15