Several wore necklaces made of wood and stone and the teeth of small animals that lived underground. Some boasted feathers and bits of bone on leather cords, and other goblins displayed pieces of bone pierced through their ears and nostrils.
They whispered among themselves, their voices sounding like the wind that sometimes found its way through the upper tunnels and whistled sonorously. But they stopped their quiet chatter when Saarh raised her arms and demanded their attention.
“These caves are too small,” she began. “For some time the clan has known this. The food is too sparse. Hunger begins to rumble in the younglings’ bellies.” Saarh had a rough voice that often cracked and made it sound as though speaking were painful. “This day the clan leaves the underground so it can grow larger and thrive.”
“Saarh, Saarh, Saarh!” The chant swelled and reverberated off the dome, and the torches flickered as all the goblins joined in. The light played across the carvings and made everything seem to shift and waver.
When she again had their attention, she said, “This clan is large, safe in its size, fearless.”
“Saarh, Saarh, Saarh!”
“Strong and terrible this clan is.” Saarh’s eyes gleamed darkly, and some of the symbols on the wall behind her glowed. “This day, the clan claims the surface.”
“Saarh!”
She slipped between the tightly packed goblins, each one bowing as she passed. Taking a last look at the great dome, she glided down a wide tunnel, the goblins falling in behind her and continuing to echo her name.
Saarh ran her fingers along the wall as she went, picking up the pulse of the stone and coaxing its ancient energies to trickle into her mind. Behind her, goblins copied her gesture, though they could not understand nor use the power held in the earth.
The torchlight from the cavern didn’t reach there, so Saarh relied on her keen senses to guide her through the darkness. She found something comforting in the shadows and the dampness of the cave; she would miss both of those things. She knew she could retreat there if necessary, but she also knew she never would choose to do so. The challenges of the surface world would not be so great that she and her clan could not endure them.
Her journey lasted hours, so deep in the earth were the goblin caverns nestled and so winding were the tunnels. Her legs were tired by the time she reached a narrow slot that was little more than a crawlway. The goblins moved in single file there, scraping their shoulders on the stone, none complaining. Some of them had been that way before with her, when food had become so scarce they had to hunt above. But most had never seen the sky.
Finally she stepped out of the darkness, the air wrapping around her and making her shiver in its chill freshness. She stood on a high ledge atop one of the range’s tallest peaks, taking in the scenery below. The land was green and lush, almost hurtfully bright in the midday sun. Tall grass and small trees stretched as far to the west as she could see. The scents of the foliage drifted up and mingled with the more subtle odor of the stone.
The chatter behind her grew louder, and she climbed down so her kinsmen could emerge behind her. Saarh glanced up to make sure they were following close. The brown cliff that stretched above her was streaked with sunlight, the hollows in the rock gray with shadows and looking like pockmarks on an old goblin’s face. High and to the south was a formation that looked like a rearing cave bear, the top of it crimson and the center sparkling with some sort of crystal. She hoped to climb there later and investigate that place.
First she had her people to worry about. She continued to descend, the green of the young forest seeming to reach up and tug her down.
So many goblins, it took them a long while to filter out from the narrow tunnel. Most of them dallied on the ledges, both frightened and amazed by their new surroundings, all of them blinking furiously, their eyes were not used to so much glare. They would get accustomed to the light of the sun, Saarh knew. They would get accustomed to the forest too.
She picked up a hint of rain when she reached the bottom. Saarh had been outside in a storm before and so recognized the first delicate traces of water in the air. Far to the west, she spotted high, misty white clouds, and beneath them floated larger ones with swollen gray bellies. She hoped to push her clan deep into the young forest before the rains came, else they might flee back into the caves out of fear and a desire for safety.
From her new vantage point at the base of the mountain, Saarh could look up and take in much more of the heights. The range looked like the spine of some great beast, and it stretched north and south, rising up high in the middle section, where it was shot through with bands of almost-white stone set against red and brown strips and a line of rock that looked almost black.
Hematite, Mudwort knew. That’s what the brown and black layers were. She’d seen enough of the stone in the Dark Knight mines to recognize it. The mountain Saarh gazed upon was heavy in the center with the iron ore that stained the rock around it. Above it were bands of sandstone and limestone, and time and heavy rains would eventually winnow those away. But the hematite would stay until the Dark Knights or some other group of men found it and dug down and broke it out to make their swords and shields.
Mudwort watched Saarh and her goblin horde with fascination. The shaman was not leading quite as many goblins as Direfang, but Saarh’s force was nonetheless impressive … formidable.
Mudwort had been looking in on Saarh and her clan for what she guessed were several hours. The spell was taking its toll on her, but the goblins’ activities were far too interesting for her to break away. Mudwort had been trying to puzzle out just how long ago Saarh had lived. One clue was in the forest and the mountains.
In an earlier seeing spell, Mudwort’s senses had passed through that range before she’d come upon the Qualinesti Forest.
Saarh was in that very Qualinesti Forest, but the trees were very small, and there was so much grass and space between the trunks.
The forest was in its youth.
“Centuries ago,” Mudwort decided. That was when Saarh had lived and when she brought her clan to the woods. Mudwort was awestruck by her magical ability to visit the past, awed that she could draw from the earth-memory so easily. “And the goblin caves and the dome, they are in that big range of mountains, deep in the heart of the earth. A long, long time past.”
She smiled, pleased that she’d finally learned something vital about Saarh and her clan … about where the caves were and when those goblins had been alive. Her smile broadened. Just as Saarh had brought her clan to the woods, Mudwort would lead Direfang’s army there. She peered closer through her vision.
Saarh’s goblins spread out, investigating their new surroundings but keeping their natural curiosity under control, careful not to venture too far from their shaman.
Saarh stood shoulder to shoulder with an aging goblin with a crooked face. One of his cheeks was higher than the other, and his lower lip drooped as if the muscles in his jaw didn’t work properly. While his appearance might have suggested he was stupid, his eyes were filled with rare intelligence, and the four necklaces he wore suggested he was important to the clan.
He stared at the mountains then slowly shook his head. “Is this the right thing? For certain, Saarh?”
She nodded.
“Too long this clan has lived in the earth. Fathers and grandfathers and farther back than that.”
“Food is short now in the earth,” she added. Saarh’s voice still cracked, the words running coarsely together. “The clan is larger, and many females have swollen stomachs. They will deliver younglings soon. The need for food and space weighs heavy on me, on them. That is why the clan had to move.”