The first two goblins stopped suddenly and threw the four carrying the deer into confusion. They all stared at the elves. Their small beady eyes glared from under low foreheads and heavy brows. Their wide noses flared, and their heavy cheeks and jowls shook as they growled a challenge. The first and largest had a single fang rising from his bottom jaw. The others all showed two fangs that were not as long.
Behind the first six, Cald could see several others, and more had slipped around the trees. The human boy had no time to make a count, but the number seemed more than twenty. Eyrmin had grabbed his arm and shoved him into a large crack in one of the trees.
“Stay there,” the prince hissed.
“Knew it,” a harsh voice muttered. “Can’t take a step in these woods without finding elf vermin underfoot.”
None of the elves spoke. They were outnumbered at least four to one, but they did not attempt retreat. This was their forest, and intruders were not allowed. Cald watched from the rent in the tree, his heart swelling with pride in his friends. He understood the odds, but never having seen any but the battle with the gnolls on the plain, and little of that, he was too ignorant of fighting to fully grasp the danger.
He knew how the goblins had gained access to the forest; they had entered some underground passage miles away and had returned to the surface through some natural fissure that opened inside the forest. If they had tried to cross the plain, they would have been seen long before they reached Sielwode. The elves were constantly on the search for entrances to the deep passages, and blocked them when they were discovered, but at least one had eluded their sharp eyes.
The elves in the western arm of Sielwode had fought under the command of the prince for centuries and had no need for orders at the opening of an attack. Three slipped behind the trees, nocked arrows to their bowstrings, and let fly their missiles.
Prince Eyrmin, to whom the responsibilities of command meant taking the burden of the greatest danger on his own shoulders, moved out into the center of the clearing, his sword, Starfire, in his hand. The ancient, dweomered blade glittered in the sunlight. As ever, he made himself a target to draw out the goblins. Without armor, because the elves had intended only to commune with the trees, he stood in great peril.
Relcan, with a frown and hasty, nervous motions, reluctantly followed the prince, taking up a stance just behind him and to the left.
The goblins, knowing the legendary accuracy of elven bows, took shelter. Three threw their spears at Eyrmin and Relcan, but the agile elves skipped away from the bad casts.
Cald quickly strung his bow and loosed an arrow in the direction of the last to throw his spear. The boy was not as quick to sight down the shaft of the arrow as the battle-wise elves, and his target had seen the tip of his arrow protruding beyond the bark of the tree. The humanoid ducked back just in time to escape death. Cald’s arrow rang off a metal disk attached to the creature’s boiled leather helmet. Cald delighted in hitting his first living target. Though it wasn’t a kill, hitting was always better than missing.
The large goblin leader roared and charged, its axe in its hand. Cald thought it very stupid or very brave to risk the elven arrows. Then he saw Dralansen step out from behind a tree. His bow was drawn, but he held his shot. As the goblin shifted about, Cald realized it was careful to keep the two elves in the clearing between himself and the archers.
At any other time, Cald would have left the defense of so important a person as Prince Eyrmin to the elven warriors, but fearing the others were as hampered as Dralansen, he took careful aim and planted an arrow in the goblin’s left forearm. He had been aiming for the goblin’s heart.
Just as well, Cald thought. He had the accuracy for a potentially fatal shot, but it would have taken a stronger bow than his to send an arrowhead through the hardened leather coat with the metal disks. He had at least limited the huge goblin to a one-handed stroke with his axe. But had he helped the prince?
Three more goblins dashed into the clearing. Relcan and Eyrmin were each suddenly trying to hold off two opponents. Other goblins were surrounding the five elves. Saelvam rushed into the clearing, holding back three invaders with quick jabs from one of their own long spears. The tall, lanky elf that so often embarrassed himself with his awkwardness, was a graceful fighter. His long legs moved him quickly and deftly toward the enemy and back. Hands that often dropped goblets in Reilmirid were quick with a bow and adept with a spear and sword. While Cald watched, Saelvam thrust the point of the goblin weapon into the heart of his nearest opponent and was fending off the others again before the surprised goblin fell to the ground.
Fiedhmil was backed against a tree, fending off two others with his blade.
Malala came into sight, her light feet moving in what Cald had termed her battle dance. Spinning, dipping, weaving back and forth, she never seemed to be in one place long enough to strike at her foe, but one goblin dropped to the ground, its head severed from its shoulders. She circled the body with lightning speed and moved on to another opponent.
Cald shivered and realized his fear was not wholly because of the goblin attack. It seemed as if the grove itself had suddenly turned malevolent. It emitted a brooding evil. Even the elves and goblins seemed affected by it. The humanoids looked about with their small eyes stretched wide, as if they expected some hidden enemy to strike out of thin air.
The elves, who could have used the fear and confusion of the goblins against the creatures, were similarly affected. They glanced about quickly, seeking the source of the strange atmosphere.
In the center of the small clearing, Eyrmin and Relcan were standing back-to-back, their slender elven blades flashing as between them they parried the swings of four axes.
Since the arrows had stopped, other goblins were entering the clearing. Cald fitted another arrow to his bow and sent the point deep into the leg of the creature just taking a swing at Relcan’s head.
One of the newly arrived goblins saw the shot and turned toward the tree. Cald nocked another arrow, and the point cut the cheek of the goblin, who did not pause as it stalked toward the human boy.
Suddenly the light faded to early twilight, not dark enough to drain the red from the blood streaking down the goblin’s cheek, or to wash out the faded green of his ragged pants, yet suddenly the color fled from everything else around the clearing. The world faded to shades of gray.
The forest had developed shadows, not lying on the ground like those thrown by the sun, but standing upright, side by side with the trees of the Muirien Grove.
In the darkness, the five elven blades glowed with a magical light of their own.
The battle between the elves and goblins abruptly stopped as both sides looked around, wondering what was happening. The large, single-fanged goblin spun completely around and back to face Eyrmin.
“Elf! Say what it is that happens,” it snarled as if the dwellers of Sielwode were taking unfair advantage.
“It is some filthy magic of the Sidhelien,” growled its companion, though he had taken a step back and eyed the prince warily.
Eyrmin, still clutching his sword, also stared at the change in the clearing. He held his sword slackly, as if he had forgotten it was in his hand.
“It’s no magic wrought by my people,” he said, his voice hollow with wonder. “I don’t know what it is … unless it’s a portal to the Shadow World.”
The indrawn breaths of the elves were loud in the still air. The goblins hissed and snarled and grouped together for protection.
Cald trembled, his mind suddenly filled with the little he knew about the Shadow World. Eyrmin had told him that in many of the human lands, mention of it was forbidden by law. Even the elves seldom spoke of the dark and dreadful plane of existence that paralleled the world of Aebrynis. They knew little of it; it was a dark and forbidding place ruled by undead—ghouls, liches, ghosts. Eyrmin had told him it had once been a beautiful land before the evil taint, but even the prince claimed to know little about it.