“Well, that takes care of that, does it not?” The goblin giggled and then turned to Chuck. “Your escape plan. Pursue it we should, no?”
Chuck nodded, and once Jimmy heaved Allison over his shoulder, he led them along the wall and through the secret door. Not wanting to take any chances, Chuck took the time to slide the dead bolts, securing the door back into the stonework. With Jimmy’s help, Stu put the bar back across it as well, guaranteeing them plenty of time to make good their escape. The extra effort was unnecessary, however. If any of the kobolds were interested in avenging their leader’s death, they exhibited it only by fleeing from the show of power that had just vaporized him.
CHAPTER 23
Not long after that, the six were walking in the woods several miles from the kobolds’ lair. Eggelbert had offered them the hospitality of his clan as a show of gratitude for rescuing him, and they eagerly accepted. They marched slowly because Jimmy still had to half carry Allison. She was lucky that she’d suffered only a few broken ribs, and likely a concussion. The way she had fallen in a heap when she crashed made TJ worry she’d broken her neck, but it seemed that even low-ranked heroes were made of pretty stern stuff.
Despite their slow pace, there had been no sign of pursuit. In fact, there hadn’t even been any sign of the guards outside the tunnel entrance when they emerged from the secret exit. Eggelbert surmised that with the power vacuum created by Crackrock’s death, the only thing the kobolds cared about for the time being was who would get to be the new chief. The biggest and toughest would duke it out head-to-head as the more subtle of them plotted assassinations.
“They have subtle ones?” TJ asked in disbelief.
“Indeed, yes, they do. Rarely seen they are, and rarely expose themselves. They know that kobold society is not built around smarts, but strength. So they seek to blend in as best they can. Yes? And fear the smart ones, the dumb ones do, so the ones that don’t blend in get, how do you say, eliminated? Yes? While young they still are. Did you not wonder why no bows they used, but instead charged in to be given the old chop-chop by your friend?” He jerked a thumb at Jimmy. “Not tough enough are bows. Only clubs and rarely swords.”
TJ nodded. “I guess that makes sense. But how do you know they exist at all, if they try so hard to blend in?”
The goblin simply shrugged. “Exist they do.”
At nightfall, the group stopped and made camp. It wasn’t particularly comfortable since they didn’t have their bedrolls, and the only food was from what Chuck had squirrelled away before he set off to rescue them. Stu had found some arrows in the dwarven royal chambers and offered to go hunt, but his offer was halfhearted and everyone knew it. They told him to just try to recuperate by the fire. Everyone had bumps and bruises, and while the gash that Jimmy took had been bandaged with dwarven sheets, it still hurt enough to make him not want to move more than necessary.
The group sat around the fire in silence, chewing on the dried meat Chuck had passed around. After a time spent studying the goblin closely, TJ finally asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. “So, um, how did you do that to the ogre back there? And if you could do that, how’d you get yourself captured in the first place?”
Eggelbert giggled and replied, “Patient you were, to wait so long to ask. I bet of goblins you think the same as kobolds, yes? None too bright, yes? Surprised you would be at what you know not about the others who live in this world.
“A wizard I am,” he continued. “Rare, it is true. But mighty and powerful I am. Three hundred years we goblins live, did you know? Only ninety years live even the oldest humans. Much time to study have I. And much time to learn. And much time to perfect. Lived one hundred eighty years I have, and study and learn I still do. Perhaps I learn not as quickly as you, but learn more I can. And have.” He nodded.
“As for how I got captured, well, how did you get captured, hmm? Four bodyguards you had, and still got captured you did, mighty wizard.” He shrugged. “Happens it does. And while disintegrate any of my jailers I could have done, only one it would have been, and many they were. That spell—I meant to use on their leader.” He leaned closer and shared a conspiratorial look. “Captured I meant to be. But to get locked in the jail I did not. Meet the chief I was to do. And kill the chief I was to do.”
Chuck grinned. “So you were sent to assassinate him?”
The goblin shrugged. “Bad the ogre was, and being attacked was my tribe. What I needed to do, I did.”
“Which tribe, did you say?” Allison suddenly asked.
The goblin’s eyes glinted with mirth. “Stone Mountain I said, though of Stone Mountain I am not. Being clever I was. And sneaky. Now that I know friends you are, tell the truth I shall. Bonecrusher clan I am.” He puffed out his chest and sat up a little straighter.
Allison gave a laugh. “Bonecrusher! Of course you are. We were told about you when we first started our quest. Another goblin told us that you were facing a great danger. He implied that we were supposed to help somehow. Was this that great danger?”
Eggelbert nodded his head enthusiastically. “Indeed. No greater danger has the Bonecrusher clan ever met. Captured much of our lands Crackrock has, with the help of his evil master, and many of our finest he killed.” He looked sad, and Allison wondered whether he had suffered some personal loss as well. “The last hope of my tribe I was. If unsuccessful I was, then all hope would be lost, and become no more would the Bonecrusher tribe. But as the sun rises and sets, so too did his evil plans. And while defeated the evil wizard is not, slowed he will be, and set back will be his plans.” He broke out into a grin. “But helped us you did. And for that, grateful we will be!”
In a deadpan voice Chuck said, “I seem to recall there was some mention about shinies . . . ?”
Allison shot him a dirty look, but Eggelbert exclaimed, “Oh yes! Many shinies have we, and many shinies shall you have too!” The goblin continued to giggle, though what he found funny no one was entirely sure.
Just then a loud cawing noise came out from the darkness, and a bird swooped down toward the campsite. Stu had an arrow nocked in his bow and was ready to fire when Eggelbert said, “No!” Reluctantly, Stu lowered his bow, and the friends watched in amazement as the bird landed right on the goblin’s head.
“That’s not . . . ,” Chuck began, and trailed off.
“Yup! My familiar this is! Led you to me he did, no? A good birdie my Pogo is!” He offered the bird a morsel of the dried meat, but it shook its beak at him and flew back into the trees. “Good taste he has too!”
Silence descended over the camp as each retreated to their own thoughts. After a time, Chuck said, “You guys go ahead and sleep. I slept on a bed fit for a king last night. I can take the first watch tonight.” There was no chance anyone was going to rely on magical wards or simple bell traps to protect them after the last time they settled in by the campfire. At the looks he received from the others, he added, “And I won’t go up into the tree until after it’s my watch. I promise. Though you can’t argue with the outcome, can you?”