Riverwind

Chapter Twenty

Di An calmed enough to relate what she'd seen and heard. When she was done, trie three of them sat m the semi-darkness, facing each other. No one spoke for a long time.

Riverwind clasped his hands tightly. “I've been idle too long. My quest has consumed my thoughts. But if Thouriss and this dragon and the Dark Queen herself mean to lay waste to my homeland and enslave my people, then there is no more sacred task than to stop them.”

“How can we?” Catchflea said. “We have no weapons and we are only three against a hundred.”

“How can we even escape this room?” Di An asked.

“We must get out before the dragon returns. Once it's here, we'll never get out alive,” said Riverwind. He idly traced some lines in the dust with a finger. “When we do get out, I want the two of you to leave Xak Tsaroth as fast as you can. Head for Que-Shu and spread the word! If Thouriss thinks he can defeat us so easily, he's in for a sharp lesson.”

“You'll not throw your life away, yes?” Catchflea said.

Riverwind laid a large hand on the old man's shoulder. “I've no intention of dying,” he said firmly. “Goldmoon awaits me. That's reason enough to want to live.”

Di An gave a frowning sigh. At first, Riverwind thought he'd hurt her feelings. She was hunched over, kneading her bird-thin ankles. “What's the matter?” he asked.

“I hurt,” she said. “In my bones.”

“Did they beat you?”

“Thouriss? No, no.” She grimaced and knotted her fists in a spasm of pain. “I drank that potion, though.”

“It was a foolish thing to do,” Riverwind said.

“Krago gave you the antidote, yes?” Catchflea asked.

“I thought so-” Di An let out a mewling cry of pain. “Feels like my feet are being pulled off!”

Riverwind worried for the elf girl. There was no telling what effect Krago's potion might have. When he tried to help massage her ankles, she grimaced and pushed his hands aside. He stared at Di An, kneading her throbbing feet, and an idea began to form in his mind. A smile tugged at the tall warrior's lips. He began to nod. “It could work,” he murmured.

He quickly outlined his idea to his companions. “If the goblins aren't used to dealing with prisoners of Di An's race, they may be taken in,” he said.

“I won't have to pretend,” Di An said. “It really hurts!”

Riverwind squeezed her hand in sympathy, then went to the door and crouched low beside it. Catchflea stationed himself a few feet away, in plain sight of the door. Di An crept across the cell until she was lying in direct line to the exit. “I'm ready,” she whispered.

“Ready, yes.” Riverwind nodded. Catchflea pounded on the door. “Help! Help, guard! The girl has fallen sick!” He pressed his ear to the door. No sound reached him. He pounded the thick wood once more. “Guard! Guard! The girl is ill! Help us!” Again, he listened. “Someone's coming!” he hissed.

Heavy footsteps heralded the arrival of a goblin. He lifted his lantern, and a shaft of light illuminated the cell through the small window in the door.

Riverwind's body tensed. Catchflea stepped aside from the door.

“Keep quiet,” rumbled the goblin and turned to go.

Catchflea exchanged a desperate look with Riverwind. Suddenly, the cell was filled with a nerve-shredding wail. Di An clutched at her stomach. “Help me!” she shrieked.

The lantern light returned. “I say, keep quiet!” rasped the goblin.

Quickly, Catchflea pressed his face to the small window. “I think she has Lemish Fever! Take her out before we are all infected. Please!” he babbled. “Your commander wants us alive! If we get the fever, we'll all die. You must take her out! Hurry!”

After several seconds' hesitation, the guard said, “You move back.”

Catchflea complied with alacrity. Once more Riverwind tensed.

The bolt rattled back. The heavy door swung out. The thin beam of a hooded lantern stabbed into the cell, finding Di An writhing in genuine pain on the floor.

“Stand away,” said the deep, raspy voice of a goblin. Catchflea backed up until his feet were by Di An's head. The goblin entered slowly, lantern in his left hand and a flanged mace in his right. Riverwind waited until the handle of the mace was near enough to grab. He sprang.

And the guard flashed the lantern in his face. Riverwind was blinded for a second, but closed one hand over the mace handle. The goblin swung the lantern at his head. Thus distracted, Riverwind didn't see Catchflea whip off his tattered shirt and fling it over the goblin's head.

The brass lantern banged into Riverwind's skull, but his thick hair and headband softened the blow. When it became clear he couldn't wrestle the mace away from the guard, Riverwind put his shoulder down and butted him. The goblin was a head shorter than the plainsman, but almost twice as heavy. They slammed into the wall. The guard gave a cry, muffled by Catchflea's old shirt around his head. He dropped the lantern to better grapple with Riverwind. The oil bowl spilled out and ignited. Little rivulets of flame danced across the cell, adding weird highlights to the confused scene.

Despite her pain, Di An rose and flung herself at the guard. She wrapped her arms around one meaty leg and sank her teeth into the relatively soft flesh behind his knee. The goblin growled and clawed at the girl. His ironlike nails raked her back, tearing open the copper mesh dress.

Riverwind wrenched the guard's weapon hand. The mace banged to the floor. He leaped back, seized the club, and laid the goblin out with two quick blows. The oil flames flickered and went out.

All three stood panting. “Anyone hurt?' Riverwind managed to ask.

“You mean, besides him?” Catchflea retrieved his shirt.

The goblin had a utility knife in a belt sheath. Riverwind passed this to Di An.

There was a large rip across the back of Di An's black mesh dress. The goblin had also clawed away the paint in many places, revealing bright copper. She took the knife from Riverwind and slipped it into her woven chain belt.

The foyer was empty. So was the street outside, though torches blazed along the facade of the old palace. They kept to the shadowed side of the street and worked their way toward the ruined round tower.

“Where are we going?” Catchflea whispered.

“Back into the cave,” said Riverwind.

“The cave! Why?”

“Keep your voice down. Where else can we go?”

The tramp of heavy feet alerted them. Riverwind pushed Catchflea ahead of him, and together they dived for the shelter of a low, broken stone wall. Di An melted into the shadows by the guard hall. Two goblins, wrapped in green cloaks, marched past.

“How many did we hang today?” said one.

“Six,” replied the other.

“It doesn't seem to bother them much,” the first grunted.

“They're too stupid.”

They walked on. Catchflea said, “Thouriss is carrying out reprisals against the gully dwarves!”

“I heard,” Riverwind said grimly.

They waved for Di An to join them. Like lightning, they flashed across the cracked and ruined road to the tumbledown tower. From there they could see the hole that led back into the caverns.

It was blocked.

The goblins had filled the hole with rubble, a very common commodity in Xak Tsaroth. Riverwind, ever a temperate man, was sorely tempted to swear blasphemies against the unjust gods. Di An wept quietly.

“There, there,” Catchflea said. “We'll find another way.”

“It's not just that,” she sniffled. “My knees ache terribly!”

“The pain is moving up, yes,” Catchflea said. He held the weeping elf girl close and stroked her short hair. To his surprise, strands came off in his hand. Catchflea discreetly let these fall to the ground and remained silent. Inside, he was very afraid for Di An. What might Krago's potion do to her?

“We'll go to the Aghar town,” Riverwind decided. “Maybe there we'll find willing allies.”

“Suppose they turn us over to the lizard men?” Catchflea said. “To win Thouriss's favor?”

“Gully dwarves are stupid, not cruel,” Riverwind noted. “Besides, I can't think of anything better.”

The two goblins had rounded the corner and were headed back toward the Court of Reception. “Let's go,” Riverwind said.

They cut across the street in front of the old tower. Di An could hardly walk, much less pad silently, so Riverwind scooped her up.

It seemed to the plainsman that Di An was heavier. But, like Catchflea, he kept silent, not wishing to add to her fear. His own worry increased.

On the other side, a deep gash split the street. The stream that ran down the center of the old road splashed into the hole. Riverwind and Catchflea waded through the knee-deep water. Another street branched off directly in front of them. The blank walls of the gully dwarf settlement gave no clue as to who or what lay on the other side. Light spilled out of the adjoining street ahead. In single file, Riverwind- still carrying Di An-and Catchflea crept down the street, always keeping to the shadowed side of the wall. They halted at a corner, and Riverwind set Di An gently down.

Dropping low on the pavement, Riverwind peeked around the corner. A small plaza opened out at the end of the short alley, and there, lit by bundles of torches, was a terrible sight. The goblins had erected a gallows, and a single gully dwarf still hung there. Riverwind whispered this to his friends.

“The families must have claimed the others,” Catchflea said. “I wonder who the poor fellow is who's still there.”

“Whoever he is, he doesn't deserve a fate like this,” Riverwind replied. “I'm going to cut him down.”

“Suppose you're seen?” Di An said.

But the plainsman was gone. He slipped around the corner and moved slowly down the street. Riverwind unhooked the mace from his belt and flattened himself against the near wall. The torches threw the shadow of a lurking goblin on the opposite wall. He was standing guard. Riverwind found a loose stone chip and tossed it into the plaza. The guard presented his pike and growled, “Who goes there?” When no one answered, he advanced a pace. Riverwind could have reached out and touched the wicked iron head of the pike.

The goblin was about to return to his post when Riverwind flicked another pebble into the dark end of the square. The guard advanced three steps this time. He never saw Riverwind as the mace came down on his head. Riverwind dragged the heavy creature into the alley. He donned the goblin's cloak and helmet, and ported the pike on his shoulder. He marched out into the middle of the plaza. There were two more goblins off to the left, but they paid no attention to one of their own.

Riverwind stepped up on the stone slab that had been set up as the base of the gallows. The poor gully dwarf's face was turned away, for which Riverwind was grateful. He put his shoulder under the thick little man and cut the rope with the pike head. Riverwind lowered the gully dwarf to the scaffold.

It was Brud Stonesifter.

Thouriss had succeeded. Riverwind felt a lump in his throat. Along with many of his fellows, Brud had suffered and died because of them, because they had forced him to help them.

“I am sorry,” Riverwind whispered.

“Huh?” said Brud.

Riverwind nearly fell over backward. “Did you speak?” he hissed, eyeing the two goblins. They were hunched over, busy in conversation. They hadn't heard.

“Uh-huh. Brud hungry. Got a rat leg I can gnaw?”

Aghar eating habits aside, Riverwind was astonished. “I saw you hanging! How can you be alive?”

“Little rope not hurt Brud. All Sluds got necks like iron. Glups, they tough, too. Bulps are sissies. They-”

“Never mind. We've got to get out of here. Where can we hide?”

“How 'bout cave?” suggested Brud, still lying on his back with his eyes closed.

“They filled the entrance with stone,” Riverwind said.

“Ho, lots of ways into that cave,” Brud avowed. A harsh voice intruded.

“What are you doing up there?” A draconian officer stood at the foot of the scaffold. Riverwind kept his face averted.

“Taking him down,” he said in the deepest rasp he could make. “Orders.”

“From whom?”

“Krago. The human wants the body to cut up.”

“Huh! I always said warm-bloods were barbarians. All right. Get on.” The officer turned with a flourish of white cloak and stalked away.

Riverwind stood and tucked Brud under his arm. The little miner grunted and said, “Careful, human. Brud got delicate back.”

“You're supposed to be dead,” Riverwind reminded him. “Be quiet.”

Brud would not keep still. He prattled on about a dream he'd been having when Riverwind roused him: “-and then Highbulp, he says to my brother, 'You cannot say stew like life. Only can say life like stew.' Ho, some Highbulp. Should be Lowbulp, or Lowest of Lowbulps, or-”

“Shut up, will you? You're the most talkative corpse I've ever seen.”

“Brud see talking corpse one time. Was six days dead, and birds had pecked it-”

Mercifully, Riverwind reached the alley once more, where he could set Brud on his feet. The two of them hurried along the lane. Riverwind asked Brud if any of the other Aghar had been hurt.

“Naw, hang not hurt Aghar. Like hang ham-just get better.”

“Didn't the goblins or lizard men notice the other victims weren't dead?”

“Ho, uglies and scale faces not see sun rise in morning if it burn their noses. Aghar scream, cry when brother or sister go on rope. Look sad. Uglies and scale faces go away, we take down. All us look alike to them, so they not know.”

Riverwind almost smiled. “Why were you still up there?” he asked.

“'Spose wife forgot me. Anywhy, Brud fall asleep till you wake so rudely.”

The plainsman shook his head. Crude and uncouth they might be, but no one could say the Aghar weren't a hardy breed. Imagine, falling asleep while hanging…

He stopped Brud with one hand. They were near the corner. Riverwind drew the cloak around him to conceal his ungoblinlike body and stepped boldly into the street. There was no sign of Catchflea or Di An. A few yards away, the North Falls pounded down the cliffside in a swirl of spray. He looked in that direction, but they were nowhere to be seen.

“Human!” called Brud. “Come look!”

On the blank wall of a large building the gully dwarf had found a smear of blood and a scattering of short, dark hair. There were nicks in the wall and pavement, nicks such as pikes or swords would make.

Thouriss had them! He had them both. Riverwind cursed

his negligence…

“Where would he take them?' Riverwind demanded of Brud.

“Many bad places. Maybe old palace.” The gully dwarf put his nose down to the bloodstain and sniffed loudly. “That not girl. Smell like old man.”

“Can you really tell?”

“Brud sniff girl before. This not her,” he answered confidently.

So Catchflea was wounded. The old man wasn't that strong and any wound would weaken him further.

The air stirred. It swirled around Riverwind and Brud, flinging dust in their eyes. The plainsman shaded his face with one hand and felt heat tingle on his skin. Through squinted eyes, Riverwind peered down the street. There was a strange light there. It flickered like firelight but was brighter than twenty torches. As his eyes adjusted to the glare, he saw that the odd light came from a ball of fire the size of his head. Tongues of flame leaped and fell, writhing around the central mass. The fireball slowly approached, weaving from side to side like a hound sniffing for a scent. Brud gave a high-pitched yelp and slid behind the plainsman.

The fireball, trailing a long tail of glowing smoke, came straight toward Riverwind's face. He could feel the heat, smell the burning. Riverwind gripped the goblin pike in two hands, ready to swat or strike the strange intruder. The glowing sphere halted just out of range.

“Riverwind,” said a loud, echoing voice. “Riverwind.”

“Who is it?” he shouted back.

“Greetings, barbarian! This is the voice of Thouriss. I am disappointed at the way you abused my hospitality by trying to escape. If you want to see your friends alive again, surrender yourself at the front steps of the old palace at once. Do not delay or they will die.”

“How do I know they aren't already dead?” Riverwind demanded. The fireball was already moving again. It flew straight at his face. Riverwind ducked and thrust the pike at it. The fireball burst with an ear-splitting clap of thunder. Riverwind was blown off his feet-though Brud clinging to his leg didn't help his equilibrium-and landed heavily on his back. The head of the pike was vaporized, along with ten inches of the shaft. Riverwind got to his feet and kicked the useless pole aside in disgust.

Brad stood up, rubbing his rather square head. “Ow-wah! You heavy, human. Should eat less stew.”

“Never mind. We've got to get to the Great Plaza right away!”

“We, human?” Brud said. He shook his head. “Brud go home. Have dinner.”

“No, you don't.” Riverwind hauled the little fellow to his feet. “I need someone to watch my back if I'm walking into a square full of lizard men and goblins. Besides, you owe me,” he said.

“Brud not fighter. Let me get wife; she tougher than dog steak!”

“No, Brud, there's no time. You're quick on your feet and plenty smart.” Besides, the plainsman added silently, you're all I've got. Brad's implacable expression began to soften. “With you at my back, I won't fear anything Thouriss tries to do,” the plainsman coaxed.

Mention of the fearsome commander took the stiffness out of Brud's spine. He slouched and said dispiritedly, “Maybe skinny girl and old man dead. Then you and Brud walk into trap. Maybe get dead?”

Riverwind unfastened the cloak and dropped it in the street. The helmet he tossed over a pile of broken bricks. “I want you to walk behind me and keep both eyes open for treachery. Understand?” The gully dwarf nodded reluctantly. “Don't look so downcast! Think of what a great story this will be to tell your children,” Riverwind said.

Brad scowled. “All children do is talk back, play loud drum music all time night and day. No 'spect for hardworking father.”

Riverwind wound the rawhide thong attached to the mace handle around his knuckles. “Stand by me, Brud, and all the Aghar will respect what you are about to do.” He set off toward the plaza with urgent strides.

“Huh! All Aghar pay 'spects at funeral!” he muttered. But Brud did follow on Riverwind's heels, his hanging rope still looped about his neck, its cut end trailing in the dust.