Riverwind the Plainsman

by Paul B. Thompson

More goblins were arriving all the time. Riverwind glanced into the dark hole. He couldn’t see Catchflea, but the ladder was still shaking. Any moment now …

  His foe caught him with a stunning blow to the side of his head with the flat of the blade. The impact made Riverwind’s ears ring and his vision go red. A hot, itching line of blood ran down his face. Riverwind stepped back and thrust his sword point straight at the creature. It skidded off the warrior’s bowed breastplate. The creature brought its wedge-shaped blade down on Riverwind’s hilt. The plainsman’s weapon snapped cleanly, the curved portion of the saber falling to the ground.

  Riverwind threw the useless hilt at the lizard man and dropped through the hole. He meant to grab a rung on his way down. His left hand missed, his right caught, and he jerked painfully to a stop ten feet below the opening. A burning torch whizzed by him, and a crossbow bolt flickered into the darkness. Riverwind scrambled to get his feet on a rung to relieve the pain and pressure on his right arm. As he got one foot in place, the crude ladder finally gave way, then crumpled, taking Riverwind with it.

  Cool water trickled on his face. Riverwind saw Catchflea and Di An. The girl poured water in her palm and applied it to his face. He tried to sit up, and pain raced through his chest and shoulder. He fell back.

  “Lie still,” Catchflea said. “You had quite a fall.”

  Riverwind looked around. They were back in the lower cave, among the milky limestone concretions.

  “The goblins have been looking for us,” Catchflea said. “They dropped torches through the hole and shot arrows at random, but they haven’t put down their own ladder yet.”

  “They can’t know how many of us are down here,” Riverwind said. “But they’ll come eventually.”

  “What was that scaly thing?” asked Di An. Her thin, angular face was scratched. So were her hands.

  “I don’t know, but he’s not friendly. Have you ever heard or seen his like, old man?”

  “No, never.”

  Di An let a few droplets fall from her palm to Riverwind’s lips. “Shall we go back?” she asked.

  “Where? To Hest? I think not.”

  Catchflea thought for a moment and said, “The gully dwarves, they come down here. Perhaps we could parley with them, yes? They would certainly have food and water. If we approach them the right way, they might help us get around the goblins.”

  “They are stupid and ugly and smell bad,” Di An said. “It is foolish.”

  “They’re basically good folk,” Riverwind countered. “I’ve dealt with them before. They are simple, but Aghar have been derided for so long that they understand what it means to starve and suffer. I think they’ll help us.”

  Di An was silent. Finally, her gaze came to rest on Riverwind. “This is a mistake,” she said. “But I agree to try it your way.” She stood and walked away, into the shadows.

  Riverwind sighed and lay back on the ground. “Old man, do you think this is the right thing to do?”

  Catchflea didn’t answer. He was staring after the elf girl. Riverwind repeated his question.

  “What? Yes, tall man,” Catchflea replied. “I agree that it is our only choice.” He paused. “But I think perhaps you should speak to her.”

  “And say what? I’m as frightened as she is.” Riverwind rubbed his abused ribs. “I only want to get back to my quest. It seems like years since I parted from Goldmoon.”

  “Something more than fear is troubling her, my friend.” The old soothsayer hesitated a long moment. “I believe she is in love with you.”

  “That’s ridiculous! She’s a child.”

  “A child ten times your age,” Catchflea said gently. “Speak with her. I’ll stand guard.” The old man walked slowly back to the hole in the cave ceiling.

  Riverwind lay still for a few minutes. Di An in love with him? It couldn’t be true. She had been acting strangely lately—rude, nay-saying. There was some other answer. She must be homesick. The gods knew he was.

  Goldmoon, my beloved, he thought, how far away you seem now.

  Di An was crouched in an especially dark corner of the cave, away from the torchlight. She was miserable and she didn’t know why.

  The trek from Hest had been arduous. She and Catchflea and Riverwind had faced many dangers. The warriors of the dreaded King Sithas. Hunger and thirst. The creeping death. She shuddered. She had watched Riverwind die. She had seen his face go white and still. It was worse than when he had been under Li El’s enchantment. He had truly died. When he had at last taken air back into his lungs, Di An had felt a great rushing of joy. It was more than a gladness felt for a friend—she’d had many friends before among the scouts of Hest. This was something more.

  “Di An?” Riverwind’s voice carried through the cave. “Where are you?”

  The elf girl heard the concern in his voice. She made herself stand and call out to him.

  “I was getting worried,” he said. “I thought something might’ve happened to you.”

  “Something has,” she blurted.

  He took her hand in his own and the warmth of his body made her shiver. “You’re freezing,” he said. “Let’s move toward the light.” He led her to a rock by one of the torches and sat down, bringing their eyes more on a level.

  “Tell me what is bothering you, little one.”

  Di An jerked her hand from his. “I’m not a child, Riverwind!” she exploded.

  He was taken aback. “I know that, Di An. I’m sorry.” He looked closely at her. “You’ve been crying. What’s wrong?”

  Her struggle to hide her feelings was plain on her face. It was a battle she lost. “We have suffered through so much together,” she said, “yet you cannot wait to be rid of me! I see it in your face, tall man. You want nothing so much as to be on the surface again, free to return to your—people.” She turned away from him to hide her angry face.

  Riverwind realized then that Catchflea was right. “Di An,” he began, “it’s no secret that I ache to get on with my quest. I have to fulfill it if I am to have the hand of the woman I love.” She stiffened when he said that. His voice softened. “You have been a fine companion and a friend. That need not end, ever.”

  Her thin shoulders rose and fell with a musical clink from her copper mesh dress. “It is difficult,” she said, “never to fit in. Who am I? In Hest, I was a barren child. In Vartoom, I was Mors’s eyes. Here in the tunnels and caves, I am Di An, the same as the old man and you. One of three.”

  “You’re still one of three,” Riverwind said gently.

  “But soon to be left behind. What am I to do on the surface? Where shall I go?”

  Riverwind had wondered about those same questions himself.

  “I’ll be honest with you,” he said slowly. “It won’t be easy for you. But you can become anything you can make of yourself. No one on the surface cares if you’re a barren child or a digger. Be a traveler, a trader, anything you want. Be free, Di An. Free.” He said the word in her language. “Varin”

  He reached out and gathered her into his arms. She buried her head against his chest and wept a bit. Riverwind sorrowed that she was so unhappy because of him. He knew that her future would not be an easy one.

  Chapter 17

  Brud Stonesifter

  They took turns watching the hole, but nothing happened for many hours. Riverwind was sitting wedged between two limestone boulders, sipping water from his canteen, when he heard voices from above. Seconds later, a stumpy figure appeared in the hole. It was a gully dwarf. A rope was tied around his thick waist, and someone was lowering him through the hole.

  “Make slow!” the Aghar said. He promptly dropped almost six feet. “Slow, dungheads! Slow! Turn rope!” The rope twisted, rotating the little fellow in a circle. He had mouse-colored hair, liberally coated with soot. His stubby fingers were blackened, too. “Make lower,” he said, and he was lowered to the cave floor.

  “Torch!” A flaming brand almost hit him on the head.

  “Good aim, dungh
ead!” The gully dwarf picked up the brand and started walking, He didn’t bother untying the rope from his waist.

  “Any monsters down here?” he called. “Show yourself to Brud. No eat Brud. Taste bad, phooey.” The dwarf waved the torch around. Riverwind crouched lower.

  “No monsters here. Pull up now?” The rope remained slack. “Brud Stonesifter valuable fella. You want rock ’spert eaten?” A hefty chunk of paving stone whizzed down the hole. Brud skipped aside. “All very right! I look more.”

  Brud was no crafty tracker, but he plainly saw the broken ladder and the marks made when Catchflea and Di An had dragged the unconscious Riverwind away. He walked slowly, peering at the trail. It led him right past Riverwind.

  “Valuable Brud, bait for monster. Ha,” the dwarf mumbled as he snooped. “Serve very right if eaten up, then no one find rocks for masters. Ha.” He stumped by Riverwind. The plainsman pulled his knife and grabbed the little man. Clamping a hand over his mouth, Riverwind then cut the rope a foot or so from the Aghar’s waist. He carried the struggling gully dwarf around the rocks to his friends.

  “Wake up,” he said.

  Catchflea rubbed his eyes. “I hope you found something to eat,” he said. Brud froze a second, then redoubled his frantic wiggling. Riverwind gave him a hard squeeze and warned him to be still.

  “What have you got?” Di An piped.

  “A visitor. If he’ll behave, I’ll let him speak.” Brud put his most eloquent appeal into his muddy brown eyes. “All right.” Riverwind removed his hand.

  “EEEEEEEYOW!” screamed the gully dwarf. The cave rang with his blood-chilling cry. Riverwind clamped his hand once more over Brud’s mouth and ducked down behind the rocks that sheltered Catchflea and Di An. The elf girl looked disgusted.

  “Treacherous worm,” she said. “Pound him with a stone. That will make him quiet.”

  Riverwind set Brud on the ground and pushed his own face close to the dwarf’s. “Now listen to me. We are very desperate criminals, and if you make one more sound to alert the goblins, I shall cut your throat.” Catchflea suppressed a giggle at his young friend’s fiercely ridiculous threat. Riverwind displayed his knife to Brud, then carefully lifted his hand from the little fellow’s mouth.

  “Great master, please don’t kill Brud,” he whispered.

  “I won’t hurt you if you behave,” Riverwind said severely. “Will you answer our questions?” The gully dwarf nodded. “Where are we?”

  “In cave.”

  “But where?”

  “Under city.”

  Riverwind’s grip tightened on the knife. He wouldn’t really hurt the little man, but he was sorely tempted to scare him into giving straight replies. He would try once more. “What city?” he asked.

  “Zak S’roth,” Brud said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

  Xak Tsaroth! Now Riverwind knew why the place seemed familiar. His father had told him stories of the ruined city that had collapsed into the ground during the Cataclysm. Great gods! He was only about eighteen miles east of Que-Shu. But the city was supposed to be surrounded by dangerous, fever-infested swamps.

  “We saw a lizard man,” Catchflea said. “Who is he?”

  Brud made a horrible face. “New masters. Make Aghar work hard.”

  “How many of them live here?”

  “Too many.”

  Riverwind shook his head. “Where did they come from?”

  “From sea. They march to city, take over, bring in goblin soldiers, make Aghar build houses, dig for rocks.”

  Riverwind, Catchflea, and Di An exchanged knowing looks. “What sort of rocks do they make you dig for?” asked Riverwind.

  “Red rocks, brown rocks, black rocks.” Di An gave a short sigh of frustration. “Brud is expert at finding rocks. Find more than anybody,” he said proudly.

  “What happens to the rocks?” Riverwind continued the questioning.

  Brud shrugged. “Go to big house and be burned.”

  “Smelted,” Di An said knowingly.

  Riverwind peeked over the rocks toward the hole in the roof. The cut rope had been withdrawn. By now the goblins and their lizard masters would be convinced a monster had carried off poor Brud Stonesifter. What would their next step be? Send down armed warriors?

  “Listen,” Riverwind said. “We need food and water. If we let you go, can you arrange them for us?”

  “Yes, wonderful master! I bring you good things to eat!”

  “I don’t trust him,” Di An remarked.

  Riverwind didn’t either, so he said to Catchflea, “As wizard of the group, I think you ought to put a hex on our friend here, so he will obey.”

  “Hex?” Catchflea said vaguely. “Oh! A hex, yes. Let me see, what is my most powerful spell …?” He took out his gourd and rattled the acorns over Brud’s head. He waved the gourd all around the gully dwarf and uttered long, nonsensical words. Brud’s eyes got wider and wider.

  “Now,” said Catchflea, pointing a bony finger at Brud, “if you do not return in two hours, or if you tell anyone who or where we are, your nose will grow to be five feet long, and your ears will grow as big as a warrior’s shield. You understand, yes?”

  Brud swallowed with an audible gulp. “Brud understand.”

  “Off with you then,” Riverwind said. The dwarf hopped to his thick bare feet, then froze.

  “Rope gone,” he said. “Okay if Brud use mouse hole?”

  “Mouse hole?” Catchflea repeated.

  “Sure, got one.” Brud leaned forward as if to go. “Brud show you?”

  “By all means, yes.”

  “But watch your step,” Di An said icily.

  Brud looked her up and down and gave the elf girl a broad wink. “You pretty skinny,” he said, “but I like.” Di An sniffed contemptuously.

  They skirted the cone of light showing through the hole. Brud led them to the far end of the cave, where the roof and floor gradually slanted down to meet each other. The plainsmen had to crouch low to save their heads. Then Di An had to crouch, as she was half a foot taller than Brud.

  The gully dwarf rooted among some small loose stones, uncovering a very narrow tunnel.

  “Mouse hole,” he said proudly.

  “The mice grow big here,” Riverwind remarked.

  “Not for mice. For Aghar,” Brud explained. “Good for hiding. Mouse holes all over. I go now?”

  “You go,” said Catchflea. “But remember the hex!” Brud fingered his stub of a nose and nodded solemnly. He wriggled into the tiny opening and soon was gone.

  Di An examined the aperture. “I could probably fit in there,” she said.

  “Why would you want to?” asked the old man.

  “In case the gully doesn’t return. I could go out and search for food.”

  “Let’s give Brud a chance. He might do as we wish,” Riverwind said. “If not, we’ll have to slip out at night again.”

  Di An rubbed her sharp chin. “Goblins will be on guard above.”

  “I know, but it’s better than starving down here.”

  They waited by the mouse hole for at least two hours. No one was paying much attention when a cloth-wrapped bundle finally popped out of the hole and rolled to a stop at Riverwind’s feet. A second bundle dribbled out after the first, then a heavy stoneware jug. Finally, Brud emerged, head-first, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Brud is back!” he declared. “Nose and ears do not grow?”

  “The hex is lifted,” Catchflea said, his mouth watering. With trembling fingers he untied the first bundle. Out tumbled five potatoes, still warm from their boiling. The second bundle held four more boiled potatoes. Riverwind pulled the wooden plug from the jug and sniffed.

  “Wah! Whatever this is, it’s gone bad!” he said.

  “It’s milk,” Brud said. “Tall human like milk.”

  “Only when it’s fresh!”

  Di An bit gingerly into a potato. It was still mostly raw, but never having had a potato before, she didn’t
know. She ate it quickly, licking her fingers when she had dispatched it.

  “Raw potatoes and sour milk. Is that all you brought?” asked Catchflea. Brud fingered his earlobes.

  “You no like?” he said weakly.

  The old soothsayer picked up a potato, brushing off some dirt. He bit it.

  “Better than nothing,” he mumbled through his food.

  They ate all the potatoes quickly, and Catchflea commented that he wished he at least had some salt to season them with. Brud’s eyes got wide, and he said, “Oh!” He dug a hand into one pocket and came out with a fat pinch of salt, well mixed with dirt and lint. He offered this to Catchflea quite seriously. The old man graciously declined.

  “Did anyone notice you had come back?” Riverwind said.

  “Only wife, Guma.”

  “What did she do?”

  Brud grinned. It was not a handsome sight. “She hear monster eat me in cave, gulp. Same day I pop out mouse hole, ha! She scream loud, call me ghost.”

  Riverwind couldn’t help but smile. “What did you do?”

  “I say ‘Give me fooood.’ ” He drew out the last word in true ghostly fashion. “Then Guma say what she always say, ‘Get it yourself!’ ”

  Catchflea cackled with laughter. Riverwind chuckled and even Di An cracked a smile.

  Their merriment was short-lived. A soft and heavy thud elsewhere in the cave was followed by a spreading cloud of noxious yellow smoke. The stinking cloud oozed through the cave. “Brimstone!” Di An gasped.

  “They’re trying to smoke us out,” Riverwind said.

  “Looks like they’ll succeed, yes!”

  Forgetting Brud, they tried to get back to the entrance to the lower tunnel. But that part of the cave was on the other side of the hole, and the sulfur fumes were worse there. Another burlap bag, soaked in oil and blazing, was dumped into the cave. Weeping and choking, the elf girl and the plainsmen retreated to Brud’s escape tunnel.

  “Go, Di An!” Riverwind said. “Save yourself!”

  “I won’t leave you!” she said.

  “We’ll all choke to death,” Catchflea said.

  “Go, Di An. Go on!”