The black horse sped around the white rock. Adam began to feel desperately dizzy. Time and again, he saw his friends’ anxious faces, static markers of his gyrations. He felt sick but gritted his teeth and swallowed hard. Three pieces left. He was dizzy, his sense of balance was going, but he mustn’t fail. He began to work as quickly as possible on the fourth piece. His stomach heaved. Swallowing again, he gripped the horse tighter with his knees; meanwhile, nausea gripped his stomach. Adam gulped several times. It would never do to be sick; otherwise, he’d vomit the seeds and lose the challenge. Then he’d be condemned to life with a spinning head. Several times he was almost sick, but with great determination, he mechanically spiked and swallowed the seeds, despite the whirling trap.
At first, Emily, Lar and Palustric were excited. They clapped their hands and cheered Adam, who passed in a black blur against a background of white rock. But soon they fell into anxious silence as they became aware of the difficulty and the danger.
Time passed, but the whirling blur continued. Just watching, Emily felt dizzy and queasy. With the passing minutes, she became convinced that Adam would fail. Although she hadn’t met one, she began to hate hobgoblins with all her being. She turned away, unable to watch any longer. Palustric came up to her while she sat on the thorn-littered grass and placed his hand on her shoulder to comfort her.
“We shouldn't have let him, Palustric,” Emily sobbed. “He'll never be well again. I should have done it. I’m the better rider!”
Tears coursed down her beautiful face. Deep down, the dwarf knew she was right; his heart felt as heavy as stone.
Only Lar knew that Adam would succeed and only he, therefore, was watching when the stallion dug his hooves into the dusty ground.
“Look!” he cried to the other two, who turned just in time to see Adam rise unsteadily to his feet on the saddle of the motionless horse, nearly fall off, and then throw himself with a thump on to the top of the rock, where he sat quite still.
Nothing happened.
Emily looked with tear-filled eyes at Palustric, who clenched his fists and shook his head. Still, nothing happened. Palustric stamped his foot angrily. He didn’t want to believe that his friend had been through that torture for nothing. Even Lar was losing faith, when suddenly with a crash, a great crack speared across the side of the rock like a fork of lightning.
Instantly, the rock was hidden in a cloud of fine white dust. It filled the air around them and then began to settle like snow on the ground. Where the rock had been, lay the boy—like a dragon on its treasure hoard. Except that the boy looked more like a mummy because white dust covered him from head to toe.
When he opened his eyes, Adam could see wisps of cloud whirling around the sky. Suddenly, much closer, his friends’ spinning faces peering down at him. He groaned and closed his eyes, only to see spinning stars. So, he had failed. Now he realised his terrible fate: a whole lifetime of dizziness stretched ahead of him. He groaned again and, to his surprise, clutched two handfuls of gold coins as he needed something to cling on to, to fight the sickening sensation.
Gold coins! Adam sat up suddenly, giving Palustric a terrible crack on the head with his own. Now, the two friends saw spinning stars!
Adam staggered around unsteadily like a drunken man, while Palustric held his head and groaned, swaying backwards and forwards on his heels. Meanwhile, Lar and Emily were throwing gold coins into the air, ignoring their friends’ distress.
At the height of her joy, Emily suddenly remembered her brother. Going over to him, she put her arm around him and made him sit down. “You did it, Adam! You did it!”
Adam groaned and closed his eyes tightly for a minute or two. When he opened them, the world had stopped spinning; instead, he found himself grinning at a huge heap of jewels and golden coins.
“Phew! I wouldn't want to go through that again. What’s up with Palustric?” he asked suddenly and frowned when the other two burst out laughing.
“We'll have no trouble getting into the Citadel now,” Emily said. She eyed the pile of coins and jewels doubtfully. “The only thing is, how are we going to carry them all?”
They soon decided that Emily would ride the stallion back to the village and buy two big packs and two small ones.
“I must speak with him first, Mistress,” Lar insisted and, again, Adam lifted him to the horse’s ear.
Lar, Palustric and Adam sat down next to the pile of coins and watched Emily expertly ride off towards the village.
“While we’re waiting for Emily,” Adam said to Lar, “tell me about the horse.”
Lar grinned happily and looked from Palustric to Adam. “Humans are like dwarves,” he said with a superior air. “They have forgotten how to talk with animals, but we pixies haven’t.”
“Like when you heard the stream singing?”
“Exactly, Master. I told the horse that it could have his freedom after it had done its duty. It is happy to get away from the goblins.” Lar’s strange, slightly squinting yellow eyes opened wider, and he stared at Adam. “There’s one thing you should know, Master—”
“Eh?”
“Horses are afraid of pixies.”
“Why?”
“There's a belief among horses that they can be ridden to death by a pixy.”
“And is it true, Lar?” Adam studied the pixy’s leathery face and, therefore, didn’t miss the odd look that came into his slatted eyes.
“Better I don't twine my fingers in its mane, Master. I threatened the horse I'd ride it if it didn’t help us.” Lar surprised them with a sudden wild-pitched laugh. Then he became serious and added, “When I spoke to the horse this time, I promised that we would ask it no more favours and that it would go free.”
“That's fair enough,” Adam said. “I'd never have broken the fairy’s spell if it hadn't been for its help.”
He looked at Lar and noticed that the strange light still burnt in his eyes. What on earth was it with pixies and horses?
Emily returned before long. She threw four bags at their feet, dismounted lightly and hugged the horse’s neck. Palustric inspected the bags.
“Goblin work,” he sniffed, “crude, but stout enough, I suppose.”
They loaded coins and jewels into the four packs. “Look!” Palustric shouted. Among the coins, he had found a golden egg—the first of thirteen. Then a golden hen appeared, but it wouldn’t enter any of the packs.
“I'll carry it,” Emily said firmly. “It’s cute!” Apart from the hen, there were too many coins for the packs. Emily wanted to return for more, but the others disagreed.
“We only have to enter the Citadel,” Adam said, “and we won’t need all this money. We’re already rich, so let’s find some poor goblins in the village and send them here.” Emily agreed reluctantly and began to tie the packs together.
“What are you doing, Em?” Adam asked.
“They’ll be easier to load on to the horse.”
“We can't.” Adam explained what Lar had told him. Emily looked very unhappy; even the leftover gold lost its importance for her. She walked over to the stallion, spoke gently and kissed its great head before turning bright-eyed back to her friends, too upset to say anything.
The great horse tossed its head, snorted, stamped the ground and cantered off. Then it began to gallop backwards and forwards wildly like a young colt.
“It's enjoying its new freedom, Mistress,” said Lar who received a weak smile from the girl.
Since Palustric and Adam were stronger than the other two, they carried heavy, white stones and placed them all around the remaining gold. Lar and Emily helped to put smaller stones over the top until a white cairn marked and hid the rest of the treasure trove. When they had finished, they heaved the packs onto their backs and tramped towards the Citadel. They had only been walking for a few minutes when they heard hoofbeats behind them; the stallion brushed past the girl at breakneck speed, almost knocking Emily off her feet. The horse suddenly spun round in a cloud of dust and
trotted up to her, where it pressed its head against her arm. When Lar called out in a strange tongue, the horse pricked up its ears and neighed several times. Lar looked at Emily and grinned. “The horse wants the packs on its back. It will stay with you, Mistress!”
“Oh, thank you, horse,” and tears of happiness shone in her silver eyes. “Lar, ask its…I mean…his name.”
Again, Lar spoke in the strange tongue, and the horse whinnied.
“Blitz, Mistress.”
“Blitz!” Adam laughed. “It suits him!”
“Blitz!” Emily echoed. “I love you, Blitz!”
When they arrived at the village, they couldn't find any poverty, perhaps because it was a place of honest (ugly) workers. These highland goblins weren’t particularly bad-natured, even if their looks were off-putting. They grew their food and brewed beer, keeping themselves to themselves. Palustric warned that no race of goblins was ever to be trusted. They noticed nervously that many of them carried swords at their sides, and there must be a reason for that. Yet, when the friends decided to look for the oldest goblin in the village (Adam suggested that such a goblin should be the wisest), they were treated politely. Of course, they were stared at, studied and thoroughly weighed up, as happens to strangers in any village anywhere. Afterwards, they were led to a small house of solid stone walls.
Emily found a pail near a water pump, and so she stayed outside to give Blitz a drink, but the others went into a room where a tiny, spotlessly clean window let in just enough light for them to see. They made out a small, hunched figure with unmistakably wide-mouthed, flat-nosed goblin features, sitting in the corner on a chair by the fire. The goblin’s white tufts of hair sprouted around his head and his skin was so wrinkled that the creature reminded Adam of a dead leaf, half-covered in snow and swept by the wind into this stony corner.
They introduced themselves and politely refused their host’s offer of food and drink, wishing to get their business settled quickly and be on their way. Adam explained about the gold and ended by saying that with the wisdom of years, their host would know best how to use the treasure.
The wizened goblin had followed the boy’s every word. His wasted little body was perfectly still, but when Adam finished, he suddenly threw out his thin arms and nodded violently: “I know exactly what to do with it,” he said, his voice frail but harsh. “Leave it where it is, that’s what!” Adam hadn’t expected this. “You look surprised,” the goblin shook his head sadly, “but if you’re sensible, you’ll go back and bury what you’ve taken.”
“Why?” Adam was shaken by the shrunken goblin’s ferocity.
“Because that’s hobgoblin gold, that’s why, and each piece can be weighed in misery and misfortune,” the old goblin toned solemnly. He raised a crooked finger and waved it under Adam’s nose. “It can only bring sorrow and suffering. None of us here will touch it, that’s for sure. Take my advice, put it back!” The goblin sank back wearily into his chair.
“I can’t do that,” Adam said, “not after what I went through to get it. Besides, we need gold to enter the Citadel.”
“I wouldn’t go there,” the old goblin muttered almost inaudibly and looked even more unconvinced. “My great-grandfather helped build the place—” His words fell away, and his head sank onto his chest. They got no more out of him because he was fast asleep. Outside his door, the friends decided to forget about the other half of the treasure and to head straight for the Citadel.
20
Back at the gatehouse, everything proceeded smoothly. The guards recalculated their body weights in terms of gold on the chart; then, they informed the visitors that they would have to pay one-tenth of this figure as an entry toll. The travellers paid with seven golden eggs which the guards took into a strongroom opposite the weighing chamber. The heavy-ringed guard informed them that their horse had to be stabled outside the walls as animals were not allowed into the Citadel. They paid another golden egg for stabling, saying a see-you-soon to Blitz, shouldered their packs and, at last, stepped through the gatehouse into the lower square of the Citadel.
At first sight, it seemed that the square was snow-covered because it stretched white and glistening before them.
“It's paved with metal,” Palustric said puzzled.
“With silver cobbles, friend Palustric,” Lar squeaked.
“Real silver?” Emily gasped.
“Ay.”
Adam passed his foot over the pavement and found that Lar was right. “They can afford it with all the taxes they collect at the gatehouse,” he said before they crossed the busy square towards the magnificent silver fountain in the centre. Goblins came and went all around them, mostly wearing velvet suits and dresses, each exquisitely tailored to measure. The male goblins all carried swords at their sides.
“Have you seen the lace on those dresses?” Emily said enviously. She lowered her voice, “But the goblins inside them are so ugly!”
They stood before the fountain and admired solid, silver dolphins leaping in front of the silver mermaid that sat on a silver rock under the silver spray sparkling in the sunlight. Their eyes followed the mermaid’s lovely form up to her ugly goblin face.
“Ugh! Why have they made her so hideous?” Emily toned down and stifled her cry into a whisper.
“To the goblin eye she’s probably beautiful,” Palustric reasoned.
Lar studied the silver statue and thought about what the dwarf had said. He began to think about beauty and art, mermaids and goblins, ugliness and reality. His pixy mind sifted through its vast store of sayings and finally selected: “Call it by any other name, but it remains a marrow, is it not so, Master?”
Adam had also been thinking about beauty and art, but even if he lived to be a hundred years old, he would never have linked a marrow to a mermaid! He looked at the curious little pixy and shook his head with a smile. “Ay, you’re right there, Lar—er, I suppose.”
The pixy gazed in confusion at Adam’s bafflement.
They left the fountain behind and entered a steep, narrow street which looked as if it led up to the golden roofs. Carvings, statuettes in niches, mosaics, complicated clocks, sundials and columns, lined the street. Blaring down, full of detail, all were crafted in semi-precious stone such as amber, onyx, jade and jet. They would have been beautiful to the friends’ eyes, except that the wealth of detail often included grotesque goblins.
The narrow, green street wound up the hillside. Elegantly dressed (ugly) goblins hurried about their business, showing no interest whatsoever in the four visitors. Finally, the street opened onto another square. Being at the top of the hill and full of imposing buildings, they supposed it to be the main square. They gazed in wonder at the solid gold cobblestones and the gold obelisk in the centre. A fortune had gone into simple construction!
On one side of the square, fronted by a magnificent portico stood THE BULGING PURSE HOTEL. They crossed the square to its entrance, where they hesitated, but reminding each other that they were rich now, they entered. Inside, they continued to marvel. Adam saw his open mouth reflected over and over again in the numerous reception hall mirrors and promptly closed it. The mirrors multiplied tapestries, damask curtains and upholstery until the travellers felt they were in an endless meadow of flowered softness.
“Can I help you?” a polite voice asked.
They turned to face a goblin (ugly) in a black velvet suit who was eyeing them with disapproval. Their clothes were dirty from travel and dusty from the plain below. They didn’t fit at all into their luxurious surroundings.
“We’d like two rooms, please, a single and a triple.”
The goblin’s eye moved to Emily’s dragonfly brooch, sparkling so enchantingly in the soft, reflected light. His eye never moved as he replied, “We have no rooms, madam; we have only suites.
“Well, two suites then, one for me and one for my friends. How much will it cost us to stay here?”
“Uh?” the goblin finally looked away from the brooch. “I’m so sorr
y…?” He tried to recover.
“I said, how much?”
“Ah!” the goblin’s eyes returned to the brooch. A hairy, long-nailed finger pointed with a tremble. “May I ask where madam obtained such a magnificent piece?”
“I made it.”
“Really?” The goblin’s eyes widened, and in a shaky voice, heavy with desire, he managed: “Such a brooch would pay for…for a very long stay indeed.”
“Would it?” Emily frowned. “But it's not for sale.”
The goblin looked anguished. “You could stay for as long as you liked…”
“For as long as we like?”
“Yes, yes.” The goblin was hopping from foot to foot, rubbing his hands together; his eyes were pleading.
Lar, Adam and Palustric looked from the goblin at each other in astonishment.
“Well, I don’t know…” Emily watched the look of hope change back to anguish. “Well, perhaps…” and back again to hope. “As long as we like?”
“Yes, yes, as long as you like!” The goblin nodded furiously.
Emily unclipped the brooch; without a word, the goblin snatched it from her hand and dashed behind the reception counter. They watched him seize a bunch of keys with which he frantically opened a wall safe. Thrusting the brooch deep inside, he slammed the door and locked it, all at whirlwind speed. Pleased, he turned to face them with a repugnant wide-mouthed grin.
“May I show you to your suites, madam and gentlemen?”
Clean and refreshed, they passed several idle days enjoying the comfort and food of the hotel. They explored the fascinating streets of the Citadel as sightseers. Soon the novelty wore off, and they became restless. An emergency meeting was held in the sitting-room of Emily’s suite.
“Nothing’s happening,” Adam said gloomily. “We’re just wasting time here.”
“Shall we leave the Citadel?” The enthusiasm in Palustric’s voice was impossible to miss.
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