Chapter Thirty-Six
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The sky was still bright blue, but little light filtered into the canyon when the bellows of two dragons split the air. I opened my eyes in no hurry to rejoin the world, glad only for the reprieve I stole.
“Ya snore,” Ike mumbled.
“The rocks.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard ya sleepin’ in yar cabin on a soft fur. Ya snore.”
“They’re here?”
“Ya noticed?”
“Maertin?”
“Ya ready for a miracle?”
“Just answer. Yes, or no?”
“Ya don’t pick up on subtle hints do ya?”
I grabbed Bacchus and stood up with a groan. “Come. We need to be there when he lands.”
Our ever-present guard strode forward motionin’ for us to sit. No. The next few minutes were too key for us to be treated like captives. If we weren’t equals at a negotiation, my premonition could still come true.
Energy thrust from Bacchus, strikin’ the goblin square in the forehead. His eyes rolled back and he fell to the ground as though every bone had evaporated.
“Cool trick, wizard,” Ike mumbled.
I stared at the inert creature, unbelievin’. “Warlock.”
Ike grabbed me by the arm and pulled me with him. A group of warriors-hunters, climbed a windin’ crevasse I hadn’t noticed before in the near cliff face. My nape tingled, expectin’ the goblins to stop us, but they didn’t even look back our way.
Ike and I followed them, toppin’ the rise as Taiz’lin landed. Maertin sat unmovin’, sour-faced, as his clan’s foes circled him and the dragon. Every bow held a notched arrow.
“Yar winged-lizard friend here—”
Taiz’lin interrupted him with a deep-chested growl.
“—said I would be welcomed under truce. I take it that was a lie.” He scanned the goblins glarin’ up at him.
“Taiz’lin!” Ike said. “Ya’ve been listenin’ to Yoso and his lyin’ friends too much.”
“I’ll slit yar throat with my last breath, ogre,” Maertin said.
“Ya’ll be breathin’ for years to come. I’m not worried.”
“Ya have another problem.”
The other goblins were raisin’ a din and Ike held out his arms to quiet them. Another miracle. They paid attention to him. Ike jerked his head back to encourage Maertin to continue.
“We flew over yar human friends,” Maertin said. “They’re snakin’ around the eastern quarter of the Range. If they aren’t just blindly ridin’, they could be here by mid-mornin’ tomorrow.”
“They have a troll guide,” Taiz’lin said.
“Since when did trolls get so friendly with humans?” Maertin asked, none too happy.
“Since humans started givin’ them their mines back, up North.”
The goblin grunted. “Livelihoods tend to forge alliances, don’t—”
“It’s an army,” Taiz’lin interrupted with an impatient exhalation of air that carried the scent of his last kill pourin’ over me. “Not a huntin’ party. More than two hundred now. No ambush is gonna help these smelly goblins.”
Maertin ignored the slight and held his eyes on Ike, until the din rose again around us. The elder had made his way to the crest of the cliff. His son, sibling of the angry one, shouted, and waved his hands.
Maertin shouted back, continued for a full minute. I caught one word repeated a number of times in his rant. Humans. Whatever he said, created an opportunity of quiet for me to make an offer the goblins would listen to. The problem bein’, I still had reached no strategy, much less a plan.
“What,” I shouted, “will the hens and younglings of yar clan do if the hunters ya have with ya here die tomorrow?” Couldn’t think of a better openin’.
I waited as Maertin translated. I didn’t need an answer though. A clan with no bulls would starve the first winter.
“An army approaches, one that far out numbers ya. Ya will all die, if we don’t come to an agreement here, now.”
A din rose after Maertin finished. I waited for it to settle, wonderin’ while I did, why Ike allowed me to continue. Wasn’t he the big leader of the Hamlet, and his clan? He had stepped back, to give me the focus, as though not to distract. It gave me a sense of confidence I didn’t have before, maybe. But still, for a brute, Ike has always been fairly silver-tongued. Maybe, he was just willing to let me take the blame if this all fell apart. May be smarter than I thought. Oh well, I had an audience.
“Remain in the desert, ya die. Live in peace with those of the Range, like the trolls, humans, orcs, and daemons that have joined us, and prosper.”
“The humans killed the bull who stood with my son when he shared vows with his mate. Nothin’ will bring him back.”
“The humans didn’t kill him.”
There was a wave of grumblin’s I didn’t need translated.
“I killed yar son’s friend.”
Stunned silence from the goblins made it easy for me to hear Ike mutter, “Wish ya hadn’t mentioned that.”
“He approached me and my two friends with a drawn back arrow. Would ya—” I jabbed my finger at the elder’s son. “Would ya have stood still? Waited to see if he was friendly after seein’ that? Or would ya have reacted, as I did?”
The shouts of anger sent a spike of fear radiatin’ through my spine. Several goblins stepped forward, stopped. But the elder’s son didn’t. He drew his huntin’ knife and lunged. The blade thrust toward my chest. Bacchus responded faster than me. The blade slammed into an invisible wall that formed before us. The goblin bounced off of it, and fell to the ground. His eyes rolled back. I could imagine Ike thinkin’, nice trick.
The crowd backed away amid subdued murmurs. Angry, startled eyes glared though.
I shouted. “Ya didn’t come here meanin’ harm. But ya were taken as a threat, and ya’re still considered a threat. An army approaches. Ya must decide whether ya want to be stubborn and die, or patient and thrive.”
Every face peered at the wrinkled elder.
“What do we have if we don’t fight?” the old goblin challenged.
“Stand in peace, and I’ll guarantee yar safety if ya settle on the southern slopes.”
Ike stepped forward and grabbed my shoulder, hissed into my ear. “How ya gonna guarantee that?”
“Get every human in the Hamlet willin’ to straddle a dragon here by mornin’,” I said through a constricted throat.
I turned back to the elder. “Get yar warriors back here, now. We’ll transport the rest of yar clan, help ya get proper lodgin’ built before the heavy snows.”
“Ya’re makin’ a lot of promises,” Ike said softly.
“Got any better ideas?”
“A few, but they all involve me flyin’ the heck out of here and leavin’ the goblins for Johanson to worry about.”
“Not very neighborly of ya.”
“Ya figure out how ya’re gonna get the dragons to help ya?”
“Iza’s dam has stepped forward before, I was told. We need her to again.”
Ike cursed. “Ya have no idea what ya’re askin’.”
“I think I do.”
“Ash’et rarely flies at all anymore. Gettin’ her here—”
“Then Lucas better get on his way, to convince her.”
Ike snorted. “Convince the old queen. Yeah.”
Iza’s irate trumpet drifted down the mountain ridge. I followed Ike’s gaze skyward a moment. My friend shook his head. We looked back at the elder. Five other gray-haired goblins stood with him, their heads bent in discussion. I looked at Maertin, still atop Taiz’lin. He appeared to be a little relieved at the direction of the negotiation, sat patiently, but held no interest in gettin’ any closer to his antagonistic cousins.
The goblin elders separated, but the clan leader didn’t speak for a long ten-count. His face contorted as though a toad wanted to pop out of his mouth. I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer.
“Peace or death?”
“I wish to see these southern slopes.”
My throat contracted again. Stubborn goat. I’d never seen them myself, though I’d heard of them—scrub oak, good winter grass to draw the antelope. Not as abundant in elk, but held sufficient huntin’. Valleys where a stand of corn, wheat, could be grown. Fodder for stock. I’d heard.
Taiz’lin’s head swayed, eyes whirled, but not in humor. “Must I be a purveyor of every goblin wishin’ a shortcut through the woods? Do I look like a mule? If so, tether me, brand me, throw me some oats.”
“Oh shut up,” Ike answered his friend. “What is it with the dramatics?”
I leaned over and snapped in Ike’s ear, “Don’t ya dare choose this moment to irritate him.”
Ike laughed. I didn’t appreciate his mistimed humor. I shouted up at Maertin, “Join me for a tea—do yar kind drink tea?”
The goblin nodded, but his expression implied he didn’t want to linger.
“Share a cup with me while we wait for Ike to take yar friend on a tour.”
Maertin didn’t look like he wanted the clan leader bein’ referred to as his friend any more than he wanted tea, but he slid down Taiz’lin’s shoulder after a moment.
Ike motioned for the goblin elder to join him. He looked as reluctant to mount the dragon as Maertin had been to leave his shoulders. An odd thought struck me—maybe hens, and women, aren’t so difficult in comparison after all.
I turned and strode for the trail that led to the canyon below. Maertin could follow if he chose.
“Just need to worry about a Northern army now,” I said to myself. “How hard can that be, convincin’ hundreds of humans who rode for weeks, slept on the cold ground, to turn around and return home?”
How would Lucas do with Iza’s dam?
~
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