Meanwhile, Adam and Palustric were collecting the two abandoned pikes at the gate. They had already checked the stable at the left of the yard. It was full of sleeping goblin soldiers in burgundy uniforms.
The boy and the dwarf went down the alley to the back of the stable on the right. Under the barred window, they laid the pikes on the ground. The window was higher than that of the other stable. Even if the dwarf stood on his shoulders as before, Adam judged that his eyes wouldn’t quite reach window level. He looked around and found two large stones, one flat and one round; placing the latter on the flat one, he climbed up. “Quick, Palustric, on to my shoulders!” he whispered, holding out cupped hands to help his friend up. As Palustric placed a foot in Adam’s hands and pulled himself up on to his friend’s shoulders, the rounded stone began to move. Adam wobbled, and Palustric lost his balance.
“Aaagh!” the dwarf cried and crashed to the ground.
“Are you all right?” Adam knelt over him anxiously.
“Urgh!”
“Palustric?!”
“Urgh!” The dwarf sat up.
“Quick, get up!” Adam hauled his friend roughly to his feet and, just in time, tugged him into the nearby warren of alleyways.
Alerted, two goblin guards came running around the corner, swords in one hand and flaming torches in the other. They stopped when they saw the pikes on the ground and looked around in all directions.
“Raise the alarm!” one said to the other. Even as he turned, Adam’s sword finished him. The other’s torch flew out of his hand as Palustric’s tackle knocked him off his feet. As he fell, his head crashed against the stable wall, and he crumpled senseless to the ground.
Palustric struggled to his feet.
“Hush!” Adam warned.
Silence reigned. They listened for a good minute, but nothing disturbed the peace. Adam trembled violently; he, who was a pacifist, had killed a living creature. It was true, goblins were ugly, evil creatures, but apart from some insects in his Own World, Adam had never harmed anyone. Now, here he was, only a boy and having to play a soldier’s role. His feelings were getting the better of him; he loathed himself for what he had done.
Palustric looked at him strangely. “Are you all right, Adam?” he whispered.
“No, I killed that goblin!” he answered in such a low, shaky voice that Palustric had trouble hearing him.
“Thank goodness you did!”
“But it’s wrong to kill!”
Palustric grabbed Adam by his shirt sleeve. “Adam, remember what Deductio said, this is a war and the world is in danger, and you’re upset about a filthy goblin! He’d have killed you without a second thought!”
Adam sighed and thought about it, nodding his head. “You’re right, Palustric. I’m sorry, I’ll have to learn to be a soldier in double-quick time!” The urgency of their situation flooded back to him. “They must be the guards from this stable,” Adam indicated with his head. “Probably they were guarding Blitz,” he whispered. “In any case, we mustn’t lose time. I say we go in there.”
Palustric nodded, and with that, they were on their way into the yard. Adam pointed silently at the left-hand stable. On the wooden doors were two big, iron brackets and leaning against the wall was a sturdy wooden bar for keeping the heavy doors closed when required.
Some distance from the yard, Emily stepped out of the shadows, face to face with the goblin guard who held ten gold coins in his hand.
“There are another ten,” Emily said to the startled goblin, who still hadn’t taken the trouble to ask himself where the coins had come from, just as long as they kept coming. She showed him the remaining coins in her outstretched hand. “You can have them if you like.”
The goblin rushed forward, but Emily threw the coins high into the air.
“No!” cried the goblin as a shower of coins hit the ground and began to roll in all directions in the darkness of the alleyway. Emily paused just long enough to see the goblin throw himself to his knees, crawling and groping on the cobbles in a frantic search.
“Have fun!” Emily chuckled and ran back towards the yard, where she found Adam and Palustric leading Blitz into the street.
“Quick!” she called. “I think we’d better disappear!”
Palustric in front, Emily with the reins, and Adam behind on Blitz’s back, they set off out of the village as quietly as possible before galloping away across the dark, open plain under the stars.
They rode for several hours until they and the horse were exhausted. By now they had reached a hilly region. Judging that they were far enough from the Citadel to concede themselves a pause, they found a comfortable spot by a shallow, rocky stream, where Blitz could drink and they could sleep. Emily took the first watch.
Before falling asleep, Adam whispered to the dwarf, “What is it with pixies and horses?”
But Palustric was already snoring.
32
She couldn’t see very far in the weak light cast by the waning moon. Deep shadows endowed disturbing forms to the rocks and shrubs. She quelled her imagination because it was too vivid and scary in these conditions. The deafening splash of the stream in the stillness of the night worried her, too. Its noise might cover the sounds of an approaching foe. She knew that they needed rest; meanwhile, her uneasiness grew. Eyes stinging with tiredness and from repeated rubbing, she had to keep alert. Emily’s head began to nod despite herself because she had almost surrendered to sleep when a sixth-sense made her suddenly sit up and stiffen. Straining to listen, she wished that she had Lar’s hearing, grumbled at the noise of the stream and jumped to her feet. Running a short distance from the stream, she stopped to cock her head: there was no doubt now, she could hear hoofbeats. The Archgoblin’s troops were on their trail.
Emily hurried back to the others, waking Adam in an instant, but they couldn’t wake Palustric even by shaking him. Between them, they heaved the sleeping dwarf onto the stallion’s back like a sack of flour. Adam marvelled at how such a short person could be so hefty, the opposite of Lar. Mounting behind Emily, Adam shook her shoulder. “Quick, into the stream! They won’t know which way to go; I’ll bet they’ve been following our tracks.”
“We’ll go upstream,” Emily decided, urging Blitz into the brook. “Let’s hope they’ll think we’ve taken the easier way.”
She kept Blitz in the shallow water for almost three-quarters of an hour. He slipped a few times, but he was a princely horse, tireless and agile. When Emily headed him out of the stream, the horse reacted as if he had been freed, galloping off with an easy, flowing movement, which soon put a great distance between them and the brook. When dawn broke, at last, Emily reined in Blitz to scan the fresh horizon, but there was no sign of pursuers.
After some time, Adam and Emily noticed a flickering, red glow in the distance.
“It looks like a fire,” Emily called over her shoulder. Before long they could smell the smoke, and it was not much further before Palustric spluttered awake and would have fallen off the horse if Emily hadn’t grabbed him.
“What’s burning?” the dwarf coughed.
Emily nudged Blitz in that direction.
There was a heavy pall of smoke rolling over the hill. They continued upwards to its brow, where the road led down towards a village. The whole place was in flames, the bodies of dwarves lay bloodied in the road. Emily gasped and looked away from the sight. There was no sign of the attackers and no movement in the village except for the dancing flames and parts of buildings occasionally collapsing in a shower of sparks as the flames greedily devoured everything.
“Who’s done this and why?” Adam asked.
Emily shook her head and bit her lip; she had no idea.
The dwarf provided an answer. “Either the Archgoblin’s men who were following us or, more likely, Pride’s goblins. Remember Deductio’s words, the war is in the offing, and these poor dwarves probably lived here among the goblins. Their only offence,” he said bitterly, “was to be dwarves.”
>
“Well, they didn’t deserve this!” Emily protested, outraged.
“Yes, well,” Palustric said gruffly, “goblins don’t exactly need a reason to massacre anyone, even their own kind.” He spat on the ground to show his dislike for accursed goblin-kind.
Blitz was getting skittery; he could smell dwarf blood while the flames frightened him, so Emily headed him along the road, away from the village. In any case, their direction through the Goblin Highlands took them up that way.
They followed the road for at least an hour before Adam pointed out a little group ahead in the distance. Since the group was on foot, it wasn’t long before Blitz caught up with them. At the sound of hoofs, the travellers scattered in all directions into the bushes lining the road.
Emily could have kept on, but she chose to stop. At first, there was no movement, then a deep voice boomed: “Look, there’s one of our kind!” At once, the bushes parted and, from all around them, out stepped dwarves.
“Dwarves!” Palustric cried out, pleased.
One of the dwarves, over fifty dwarf-years-old, going by his beard, grinned at Palustric.
“My name’s Cloutric, I'm a smith, son of Rodric, he was a smith too.” The dwarf continued with his family tree for quite a while, going into considerable detail over various blood-ties.
“We're related!” Palustric slapped his thigh. “Very distantly, but we are—” and to Adam and Emily’s horror, related his family tree as, fascinated, the twenty or so dwarves crowded round to follow the complicated list of births and marriages.
Adam drew Emily aside. “We’ll be here all day if they carry on with this dwarf behaviour.”
“I wonder why they were so scared before?” Emily frowned. She pushed aside a couple of dwarves and interrupted Palustric, “Look here,” she said, “I don’t mean to be rude, but there’s danger—” She didn’t expect her interruption to have such an effect. At the word danger the dwarves stared up and down the road with frightened faces, all thoughts of family trees driven from their minds. Emily took Cloutric by the arm. “Tell me what happened,” she said.
The dwarf folded his muscular arms across his broad chest and snarled, “Marshland goblins. They came last night,” his swarthy face darkened even more, “killing and looting. They put our homes to the torch. We’re the lucky ones who got away. At least ten of our friends and family were less fortunate.” Cloutric unfolded his arms and clenched his fists. “But why? Why?” He shook his head, “They didn’t torch the goblin homes, only ours. They only killed dwarves and burnt dwarf homes. Why? We’ve lived peacefully alongside the Hill goblins for many years, without any trouble. Keeping on good terms, that sort of thing.” Cloutric looked from one to the other of the newcomers. “Do you know why?”
“We’re all in danger,” Emily said. “But I can’t explain now. It’s a long story. Keep away from goblins of any kind. Make your way as quickly as you can back to your homeland and, I beg you, remember you didn’t see us three. The safety of the Dwarfish lands may depend on your silence.”
Cloutric and the other dwarves studied Emily’s face. Seeing her so sincere troubled them even more. But they nodded in agreement.
“There's no time to lose,” Emily said. “You’ll find out soon enough what’s going on. Good-bye and good luck.”
They mounted Blitz and galloped off without looking back. As they rode, Emily said, “That explains why the Archgoblin’s troops followed us so far. They wouldn’t have if it had just been for my brooch. No, they wanted to capture us on Pride’s orders. I believe he’s mustering a vast goblin army and is preparing to invade the dwarves.”
“That’s what the wizards said was happening,” Adam reminded her.
They rode on for a long time in thoughtful silence until, by mid-afternoon, they came to crossroads with a fingerpost.
“Straight on,” Palustric said without a hint of doubt.
But Emily was curious. “Trow Town, 10 miles,” she read. “It’s not so far.”
“We should keep straight on. We mustn’t waste time,” the dwarf repeated.
“Blitz needs to eat and rest and, so do I!” Emily said in a tone that meant she wasn’t going to argue about it.
“Do you know Trow Town, Palustric?” Adam asked quickly.
When Palustric was cross, his brown eyes seemed to become darker like pieces of coal. He turned them on Adam now. “There’s nothing there for us!”
Adam persisted, “Who lives there, Palustric?”
“Highland goblins,” he growled the second word.
“They’re usually friendly, aren’t they? Like the innkeeper at The Traveller’s Rest, remember?”
Palustric didn’t answer. With his land was in grave danger, his friends wanted to make a dangerous twenty-mile detour.
Emily understood the dwarf’s angry silence, but they couldn’t keep on along the road until Blitz dropped of hunger and fatigue. She turned in the saddle and looked deeply into Palustric’s smouldering eyes, smiling and opening her lovely eyes wider, watching as the dwarf’s turned back to dark brown. “Is it a big town?” she asked sweetly.
“It’s the capital,” Palustric’s voice softened because, despite himself, he couldn’t resist Emily’s charm.
“All the more reason then. We must convince the Highland goblins not to join the Marshland goblins. They are better folk. I’m sure we can persuade them not to take up arms.”
“They’re still goblins,” Palustric said mistrustfully.
“It’s our duty to try,” Emily nudged Blitz forward towards Trow Town.
By late afternoon, they had finished their meal in an inn half-way along the High Street of Trow Town. The inn, like all the domed buildings of the town (except for three), was circular and made of flat stones. After speaking with the landlord for a long time, Emily rejoined the other two at the table and explained: “The Highland goblins are controlled by three important families. They do whatever the heads of these families decide together. That’s why the buildings are such a strange shape. It seems they are built with a special keystone. If a goblin family doesn’t pay its rent in time, the chief or head of the powerful family sends a gang of goblins to pull out the keystone. Then the house collapses, like a house of cards.”
“That's not very kind, is it?” Adam gasped.
“Since when have goblins been kind?” Palustric spat on the ground again.
“Anyway, their word is law in these parts, so we have to speak with them. The landlord says that one of them lives in a big house not far away. He’s given me directions. We can’t miss it because it isn’t round and domed—nobody can pull it down.”
The splendid ebony door had an iron ring for a knocker and was opened slightly by a goblin servant dressed in black. The servant stared at them with a mixture of suspicion and hostility. They were forced to wait outside on the steps as he closed the door in their faces while he went off for instructions. Before long, he returned with the same unfriendly expression, admitting them into a huge hall which seemed to be the only downstairs room in the house.
Under a gallery, the walls were lined with shields and mounted on each an animal’s head. Foxes, badgers, wolves and bears stared sightlessly at each other across the vast room. Emily shuddered; she hated hunting of any kind.
By an open fire, in a deep, hide armchair, sat the owner of the house. He reminded Emily of a toad. This squat goblin, ugly as a whiskered bat, didn’t rise as they entered, but sat back, crossed his legs and stared at them.
“What do you want?” he growled.
Emily approached and stopped a couple of yards in front of the goblin’s chair. Just looking at the repulsive creature made her wish that she had continued along the road as Palustric had wanted. At her back, Palustric did not doubt that he had been right all along. Still, she took a deep breath, looked the goblin in his small, crafty eyes and explained what she wanted. From time to time, the goblin stopped her to clear up the odd point, but followed her words with great interest when she sp
oke about the Citadel of Wealth.
Adam studied the goblin’s face with just about the same suspicion as the servant had shown to them. Above all, he didn’t like the way the goblin brushed aside the threat to peace from Pride.
The goblin eased himself out of his armchair to stand in front of the fire with his back to them. Staring into the fire without turning towards his visitors, he growled, “Suppose the Highland Goblins help you against Pride, what’s in it for us?”
Emily had no hesitation. “Pride won’t stop at conquering the dwarves,” she paused, not to sound threatening, “but he’ll take over the whole world so that your people will have to obey him, too.” Emily stopped because she wasn’t at ease speaking to a person’s back. She couldn’t tell what impact her words had on him. She waited. Still, he stared into the fire. Emily exchanged glances with Adam and Palustric, who just frowned and shrugged. “Perhaps you don’t realise what a menace Pride is. The wise wizards told us that he wants absolute power—”
The goblin turned to face her with a strange expression on his face, which confused her even more.
“Of course,” the goblin said thoughtfully, “I can’t decide on my own. I shall have to speak with certain other people. What you have told me is grave.” The goblin’s crafty eyes darted from face to face, but when he spoke, he looked no-one in the eye. “Most certainly, a decision will have to be reached.”
“There’s no time to waste,” Emily interrupted. “The Marshland Goblins are already on the move and…”
“Where are you staying?”
“At The Fell Top Inn in the High Street.”
“Well, stay the night,” the goblin said. “Tomorrow I will give you our decision.
Emily smiled and stepped forward to thank the goblin, but he ignored the hand she offered. “Grum,” he called to the sour servant, “show these people out.” He turned to Emily, “I’ll find you at the inn tomorrow morning.” He nodded dismissively, turning toward the fire, once more showing them his back.
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