The Sword of Wayland

by Gavin Chappell

  * * * * *

  The goblins were carrying them through the tunnels again. Oswald flinched as the low roof passed inches from his face. The goblins were going quickly.

  ‘We’ve wasted enough time watching your conjuring, wizard,’ the goblin king was muttering, his voice resounding eerily from the rock walls.

  ‘I spoke with the woses’ king,’ Grimbert replied. ‘We have nothing to worry about. No one will disturb the awakening.’

  Moonlight poured into the tunnels from ahead as they turned a corner. Oswald craned his neck and caught a brief glimpse of the goblin king’s eerie face directed scornfully at the wizard.

  ‘Good,’ Puck spat. ‘We are here. Above us is the hillside of Dinas Emrys. The dragons sleep in the cavern ahead.’