Regdar continued his roll, changing direction, and smashed the goblin with his shield. The goblin fell backward, and Jozan caught it around the waist.
As Regdar leaped to his feet, the goblin Lidda called Tzrg started to move behind him. Regdar had intended to drop his shield and grab the goblin Jozan was holding, but when he saw the other goblin trying to make a break for it, he drew up short and shot his right elbow back. Tzrg didn’t even see it coming. Regdar’s elbow smashed him into the cave wall, and Tzrg tripped, sprawling onto the floor behind the big human.
The goblin Jozan was holding shook his head once and stood, slipping out of the priest’s tenuous, surprised grip. Regdar stepped in front of the goblin and whipped his sword in a half-arc fast enough to make it whistle through the air. The newcomer skidded to a stop with the tip of Regdar’s blade less than an inch from the end of its wide, flat nose.
Lidda said something in the goblin language as Jozan brushed past behind Regdar to help Tzrg to his feet and detain him at the same time. Regdar finally had a chance to see the newcomer’s face clearly, and he recognized the goblin at once.
“This is the one we saved from the krenshar pit,” Regdar said. “Naull went after him.”
Lidda spoke to the goblin, a look of stern determination on her face. Waiting for the grunting exchange to yield anything understandable was like torture for Regdar. He stopped short of trying to imagine what might be happening—or what might have happened—to Naull. He could feel his teeth grinding.
The huge, misshapen hive spider queen rubbed its bulbous form against the stone bars. The sound made all of them look in its direction. The creature tapped its needle-pointed legs against the stone and waved its hideous, asymmetrical head from side to side.
The goblin looked at the monster spider with an oddly soft expression Regdar associated with the way some people look at their horses or their dogs.
“The spider…” Regdar started to say.
“The queen recognizes this one as a member of the Cavemouth Tribe,” Jozan said. “When they brought it down here it must have lost contact with its drones. The drones went wild…”
“And attacked the sheep,” Regdar finished for him.
“It’s what caused all this chaos in the first place,” Jozan said. “Lidda…?”
The halfling stopped her grunting speech and looked up at Jozan.
“Is this goblin from the Cavemouth Tribe?” the priest asked.
“He is,” Lidda answered. “I think he might be Kink’s son.”
Jozan drew in a breath and stood straighter, pulling the goblin Tzrg up with him. The prisoner whimpered and kept his eyes on the floor.
“He is Kink’s son,” Lidda said, her eyes searching Jozan’s face for some idea what to do next.
“Who’s son?” asked Regdar.
“Kink,” Jozan answered, pronouncing the goblin name with some difficulty. “He was the chief of the Cavemouth Tribe. He’s dead.”
Regdar watched Lidda tell the goblin that his father was dead. The goblin sagged visibly.
“I assume that makes him chief now,” Regdar said. “We saved him from the krenshar pit. If he wants to return the favor…”
“Tell him we can help him,” the priest said. “Tell him that if he can keep the spiders in the cave, away from the village and the herds, that we’ll help him regain his tribe and get rid of the hobgoblin.”
Lidda nodded and started speaking Goblin again. The prisoner looked suspicious, unsure.
“Ask him about Naull,” Regdar said. “She was following him.”
Lidda nodded and started grunting at the goblin, who answered back quickly, making gestures that Regdar found disturbing.
“Rezrex has her,” Lidda said.
Regdar felt the blood drain from his face.
“The hobgoblin?” Jozan asked, his voice quiet and heavy.
Regdar nodded.
“He said he’d help us,” Lidda said, glancing between Regdar and Jozan. “I’m not a hundred percent sure we can trust him, but we might not have much choice. He wants us to release the… the queen.”
The goblin Tzrg ventured a series of tentative grunts Lidda’s way, and whatever he said made the halfling smile.
“They both want Rezrex dead,” Lidda told them. “Tzrg wants things to go back the way they were.”
Regdar saw the two goblins exchange a look he’d seen a few times in the past. Enemies had turned into allies in more ways than one.
19
Jozan ran after Lidda and the goblin named Glnk, knowing more than usual that his life was in the hands of Pelor. The goblins so far had proved alternately aggressive and cowardly, malign and pitiful, cunning and stupid. Lidda was the only one who could talk to them, and the apparent misunderstanding that had caused Tzrg to bring them to the hive spider queen instead of Naull shook Jozan’s confidence in her language skills.
It might be true that the common enemy of both of the goblin tribes and their human neighbors was the hobgoblin Rezrex, but Jozan had to admit, at least to himself, that he didn’t have any idea whether or not either Glnk or Tzrg were serious about standing up against the hobgoblin—something neither had been successful at before. The goblins were certainly more closely related to the hobgoblin on most every level than they were to three humans and a halfling. He just had to hope that the goblins believed they would return to the surface after Rezrex was dealt with and the spiders were brought back under control. It was the truth, after all, but who could guess what a goblin was thinking?
The hideous, bloated form of the hive spider queen ambled along next to him, making Jozan even less comfortable.
He recited a silent prayer to Pelor as they emerged into the tall-ceilinged chamber into which the two waterfalls emptied. The rough rock walls were covered with climbing goblins, the floor littered with a dozen more that seemed too tired or injured—or just plain scared—to start the climb back up to Cavemouth territory.
It was Glnk who started shouting at them first, then Lidda piped in. The goblins didn’t stop all at once. It took painfully long minutes of grunting back and forth, the harsh sounds echoing from the walls and often ending up lost under the hissing of the waterfalls, before they started to climb back down.
Jozan wanted to pray again but already felt as if he was pressing his luck.
* * *
Regdar kept an eye on Tzrg but tried hard to keep the contempt he felt for the goblin from coming through in his expression.
Tzrg was the chief of the Stonedeep Tribe. He should have been looking out for his people, but instead, he’d let Rezrex take over, destroy what seemed to have been a reasonable peace with the Cavemouth Tribe, and spread havoc not only through their own cold, damp, dark caves but up onto the surface world as well.
A lot of blood had been spilled because Tzrg was a weak leader.
The goblin regarded Regdar with a mixture of fear and hope—mostly fear. It was plain to the human that the goblin chief was as intimidated by him as he was by Rezrex. The fact that Tzrg’s loyalty to Rezrex had crumbled the second he was separated from the hobgoblin was something Regdar wouldn’t soon forget. Would Tzrg be as loyal to Regdar when he next encountered Rezrex?
It was a question Regdar itched to have answered. Standing back at the mouth of the side-passage while Lidda, Jozan, and the other goblin chief went off with the queen spider to rally the fleeing Cavemouth goblins, Regdar was anxious to get on with it. Naull was still out there somewhere, and it seemed as if every second that passed was a second she might not be able to spare, or a second she might not want to have to live through.
* * *
As the damnable magic light finally faded from Rezrex’s eyes, he growled in pain and anger but knew he would have his revenge.
This man named Regdar was strong—strong enough to kill both of his beloved and valuable krenshars—but he would pay for that particular insult with his blood and his female’s.
“Gorvon,” he called, blinking the purple splot
ches from his vision.
The hobgoblin he’d known all his life—his cousin, actually—and one of only two of his own kind left for him to command, stood awaiting instructions, himself blinking away the aftereffects of the human female’s magic light.
“Gorvon,” Rezrex grumbled, “tell me you brought some of those damn goblins with you.”
Gorvon nodded and gestured behind him. Rezrex’s darkvision cleared enough for him to see the silhouettes of more than a dozen goblins, shuffling nervously behind Gorvon. They brought some of their hive spiders with them, too, and Rezrex forced a smile.
“Good,” he said, clapping a hand firmly on Gorvon’s broad shoulder. “The rest of the little shite-eaters who ran will be punished later, eh?”
Gorvon smiled himself, revealing broken yellow teeth under his red nose. Gorvon wasn’t the smartest of Rezrex’s tight little gang, but he was a good fighter—good with a spiked chain—and he could take a hit when he needed to.
The other hobgoblin, Kadvor, was holding the human female. The sight of her made Rezrex’s smile fade into a grimace. She wasn’t much to look at: skinny, soft, and she smelled strange. Blood was trickling down her chin from her nose, which still looked too small and too pointy. He could see that Kadvor was getting curious, and Rezrex thought maybe the human female smelled different close up. After he had a chance to use her against Regdar, he didn’t care what Kadvor did with her.
“Put your dagger to her throat, Kadvor,” Rezrex commanded. “I want the man to worry—and he will, if what I hear about human mating rites is true.”
Kadvor smirked and drew his heavy, serrated dagger.
“When I give the word,” Rezrex continued, “slice her to the spine, but—” he held up a finger—“not before I say so.”
Kadvor’s smirk twisted into a disappointed grimace, but he nodded.
Turning, Rezrex faced the assembled goblins and counted fifteen of them. They’d brought six of the spiders. He didn’t doubt the human could kill them all, but with the female up his sleeve, Rezrex didn’t think it would come to that.
He slid his mace from behind his back and held it high. The goblins were afraid of him enough to quiet down and stop jittering when they saw it. The weapon was impressive, even to Rezrex. It was given to him by his father—or, more to the point, he’d taken it from his father’s dead hand—who had stolen it from a human priest who was guarding a caravan his father had robbed. It was a fine weapon that everyone around him assumed was enchanted, and maybe it was. Rezrex did fight better with it than any weapon he’d ever used.
“The man,” he shouted to the assembled goblins, “has dared to desecrate the caves of the Stonedeep Tribe! Find him, and the enemy chief Glnk, and k—”
The goblins stared at him blankly, and Rezrex huffed, realizing he’d been speaking his native tongue. When he talked to goblins, he had to talk like he was addressing an infant.
“Vrmvs bkn!” he shouted—Find man. “Vrmvs Glnk! Bwlnk bkn!”—Kill man—“Bwlnk Glnk! Dfln Rezrex!”—Stonedeep belongs to Rezrex—“Klsn Rezrex!”—Cavemouth belongs to Rezrex—“Gbn Rezrex!”—Goblins belong to Rezrex.
The goblins started bouncing up and down on their toes, gathering their courage, and Rezrex knew they’d do what he told them to do. He wanted them to follow him, he wanted them to attack.
He screamed the battle cry: “Gnrbt gbn! Pnlrd gbn!”
Follow me, goblins! Attack, goblins!
* * *
The pain in Regdar’s right leg had dwindled to a dull throb that was easy enough for him to ignore. He was running, which was loosening the muscles, and he was finally on the way to confront Rezrex and rescue Naull, and that made him feel better too. His blood was racing through his veins, his senses were growing more acute, his muscles were tensing for the fight to come. Even running down the uneven rocky cave floor through darkness cut through only by bobbing wedges of torchlight, Regdar was in his element.
Behind him were Jozan—clanking along in his unsubtle armor—Lidda, her lanternlight strangely absent, the two goblin chiefs, and maybe a score or more of the Cavemouth goblins. The hive spider queen took up the rear, emitting an irregular series of clicks and whistles as it scurried along. The sounds popped and pinged off the walls and stalactites, mixing with the footsteps and grunts of the goblins, and the clattering of spider feet that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
Regdar didn’t let his attention wander to the spiders, but he could sense them gathering. They came from every crack, behind every stalagmite and stalactite. They were on the ceiling above and behind him, and on the walls all around. They were coming from everywhere, answering the calls of their queen.
Several of the Cavemouth goblins were carrying torches behind him, and at the edge of their wavering light Regdar could make out the shape of the hulking hobgoblin. Though he couldn’t see well enough to be sure, Regdar got the sense that there were others behind it. He couldn’t see Naull.
Regdar, his greatsword trailing behind him in his right hand, ready for a running slash, his shield in front of him to deflect javelins or whatever might be thrown or fired at him, ran into the fight, anxious to get on with it.
Jozan’s voice rose above the din of the massed charge, and Regdar smiled when he heard the prayer to Pelor, the Shining One, God of the Sun, ring through the cave. He could feel the power of the prayer wash over him—they were no mere words. It was as if the sun somehow broke through the two thousand feet or more of rock above them to shine on Regdar and the cause for which he fought. Pelor himself would help guide his hand—for the sake of justice.
By the time Regdar—and, more importantly, the torchlight behind him—was close enough to see that the hobgoblin in front wasn’t Rezrex, it was too late for the human to turn his charge. The hobgoblin—obviously one of Rezrex’s cronies—was spinning a heavy length of chain studded with cruel, curved spikes. The polished steel links reflected flashes of orange from the bobbing torchlight and made the first attack harder to see.
Regdar brought his shield up just in time to block the chain that was speeding toward his face. The cruel weapon clanged off the protective metal, and Regdar batted it away. The hobgoblin drew the weapon back in with a flick of his wrist in the time it took for Regdar to get within slashing range.
The chain whipped up and past the hobgoblin’s right side and in front of him to wrap around Regdar’s blade. The hobgoblin made the mistake of trying to pull Regdar’s greatsword toward him, hoping to yank it from the human’s grip. Regdar, whose hand was wrapped around the comfortable pommel of the greatsword like an iron vise, leaped into the air. The combination of the momentum of his charge, the leap itself, and the hobgoblin yanking on the chain wrapped around his sword pulled Regdar through the air and onto the hobgoblin so fast and so hard it sent both of them sprawling.
Regdar didn’t know the hobgoblin was standing in front of a pool of ice-cold water until they both splashed into it, arms and legs splaying, bodies twisting in the air in mixed attempts to land on their feet, avoid each others’ weapons, or kill each other. Before he had a chance to worry that he’d sink again, he hit the bottom of the shallow pool hard enough to drive a grunt from his chest and make his ears ring.
He felt the hobgoblin under him and jammed his knee down, pushing himself up. When the hobgoblin rolled out from beneath him, Regdar almost went back under but managed to scramble away, his back scraping against a rock wall that rose out of the middle of the shallow pool like a column that disappeared into the darkness over his head.
He drew in a deep breath the second his head came out of the water, and he blinked to clear his eyes. The hobgoblin was in front of him, just at the edge of the pool and was sputtering and coughing up water even as it gathered its spiked chain in a coil. Behind the hobgoblin, Glnk was smashing apart the dull brown carapace of a hive spider.
Regdar took one step forward in the water, which slowed him considerably. His greatsword was raised above his head, ready for a downward hac
k at the hobgoblin, when a roaring voice shattered his concentration.
“Stop!” Rezrex shouted, stepping into the torchlight, a third hobgoblin at his side.
Jozan shouted, “Naull!”
The hobgoblin with Rezrex was holding the young mage with one of his big, brutish arms wrapped around her chest. Blood was seeping from her nose, and a huge bruise was blossoming on her round face. She was hanging limp in the hobgoblin’s grip, eyes closed. She was breathing, but Regdar feared she wouldn’t be for long. In his other hand, the hobgoblin held a wicked serrated dagger, similar to the one that had mangled Regdar’s leg. He was holding the weapon to Naull’s soft, exposed throat.
Rezrex laughed, and Regdar’s blood boiled.
“Stop now, man!” Rezrex called. “Stop now or female bleeds out!”
The hobgoblin with the spiked chain stepped up out of the pool, regarding Regdar with cold contempt.
Rezrex grinned and said, “I give word—one word!—and female is—”
The hobgoblin was interrupted by a feral shriek from Glnk. The new chief of the Cavemouth Tribe, oblivious to Naull’s danger, rushed at the hobgoblin, brandishing a stone club that was still dripping with the hive spider’s sticky yellow ichor, and traces of the spidersilk that marked it as one of the bars from the queen spider’s cage.
Regdar wanted to scream for the goblin to stop, but the chief wouldn’t have understood him, as he hadn’t understood Rezrex, who was speaking his grunting, halting Common.
Like it was all happening underwater, muddy and slow, Regdar watched the goblin charge, saw Rezrex open his mouth to give the order to cut Naull’s throat—
—and the word “Silence!” boomed through the cave.
It was Jozan, using the grace of Pelor the same way he’d made Lidda scream to reveal herself in the woods on the surface. The hobgoblin’s throat visibly tensed, and the word or grunt or command that was about to be issued stopped there as if it had substance and weight.
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