31
The hobgoblin led the army south along a mountain path that wrapped down and away from the ogre village. The trail was narrow, so only three goblins could walk abreast. To their left, the mountainside rose up at a steep angle and disappeared into a billowing mass of gray clouds. Tugging cows along the trail proved difficult, but the goblins coaxed and pulled their tasty livestock along the side of the trail closest to the mountain. The western edge fell away with the slope to a narrow valley filled with jagged spires.
Direfang would have preferred a faster pace, but he’d been pushing the limit with the army for hours, and many of the goblins and hobgoblins carried packs and satchels filled with treasures and food, and jugs and skins filled with water.
Just how long they’d been marching before he announced a rest, he wasn’t certain. There’d been no break in the gray cloud cover, so he couldn’t judge the passing of time from the sun. There’d been no change in the air since they’d left. It was still warm, and the slight breeze carried some dust or irritant that continued to burn his eyes. He allowed only a few minutes’ rest before he urged the army back to its feet.
The longer they were on the road, the more he grew certain that the clouds were unnatural, an omen perhaps-with a frown, he wondered if the omen might be caused by the Dark Knights. He’d never seen such a gray sky before, and there had been no change in more than a day-just unending gray, not a cloud smelling of water, and all the world smelling dry.
It was Dark Knight sorcery, perhaps. After all, he himself had seen the wizard call down columns of flame. The smoky sky might not be beyond him, his coming to join the goblins a ruse.
The ground shook, not so strong as to impede the progress of Direfang and the others on the trail, but enough to worry even the most dull-witted goblin. Rocks tumbled down, pelting everyone and spooking the livestock. Stone dust fell too, making a gentle, almost pleasant, sound. But when the ground shook again, longer, the dust and dirt that rained down from the mountain above was thick and choking.
Direfang doubled over, coughs wracking him. Mudwort was on Erguth’s shoulders, the pair of them right behind Direfang. Erguth leaned against the slope, struggling to breathe. Behind them other goblins and hobgoblins coughed too. They dropped their packs and grabbed for water skins.
“Bring the wizard up,” Direfang managed to shout. He turned and looked through the filtering dust, seeing Crelb and gesturing. “Now! Bring the wizard and do it now!” He leaned over farther, breathing deeply, but found the air no better near the ground.
Mudwort climbed off Erguth’s shoulders, waving her arms. “Direfang, don’t stop, move faster! There should be no stopping here. Move away from this mountain and the other one. Get to new land.” She thrust a finger to the west, where a glowing red ribbon cut through the gray. “Direfang, this mountain and the other one are-” When the ground shook a third time, the screams of goblins and the squeals of animals drowned her out. Some goblins fell off the side of the trail, tumbling down the slope and disappearing into a haze of dirt and stone dust that rose in puffs from the valley below.
Another shaking made Mudwort herself stumble, nearly slipping off the side of the trail. Her fingers grabbed the dirt, sinking in, and she pressed her face against the stone. She breathed shallowly and held tight as Crelb pushed past her, dragging the wizard. After a moment she climbed to a safer spot and held her ear to the ground, listening.
“I can do nothing against this sort of disaster, hob-” Grallik began to say as Crelb shoved him forward. The wizard stumbled into Direfang, who was standing straight. The hobgoblin grabbed the wizard around the shoulders. “Foreman Direfang, I cannot stop the mountain from shaking.”
“The sky, Grallik!”
The wizard looked surprised that the hobgoblin had called him by his name.
“Look to the sky and tell me what is responsible for this darkness. Did Dark Knight magic do this?” Direfang snarled the question before nearly doubling over again with coughing. “Grallik, what is responsible for the damnable, dark sky?”
The wizard was wracked with coughing too. He grabbed the neckline of his shift and raised it to cover his nose and mouth. “Not my magic, Direfang. I’m not so powerful that I could do this, and I know of no wizard who could. A god, maybe. Perhaps we’ve all caught the attention of Chislev or-”
Direfang’s snarl turned into a roar. “The gods! Never did the gods help goblinkind, Grallik. So goblins do not recognize the gods. No god is responsible. And if not a wizard …”
“Another earthquake.” The voice belonged to the priest Horace. Brak had led the Skull Knight up the trail.
Brak gave a small, tight smile. “Direfang wanted the wizard, figured Direfang might want the skull man too.” Brak’s shoulders shook when he broke into a coughing fit.
Dust billowed all around them, as if the dry clouds had settled to the ground. The plink and plop of rocks skittering down the slope drowned out the fearful murmur of the goblins.
“A quake would not so darken the sky, would it, priest?” Direfang spoke loud enough to be heard by the many others around him. Then he cupped his hand over his mouth and nose, filtering some of the dust out. “Zeboim would not darken the sky either, eh, Grallik, priest? So what is responsible?”
When the priest shrugged indifferently, Direfang spun and gestured for the others to follow him south on the trail, knowing that while his long strides would make it difficult for the goblins to keep up, it would also urge them to go faster.
The trail trembled against the soles of his feet, rocks biting into them and adding to the hobgoblin’s misery. There was no end to the rumbling as the army scurried behind its leader. Words of panic and the frightened bleats of animals filled the air. Occasional screams cut through the hubbub as goblins slid off the trail and shot over the side.
Mudwort labored to keep up with Direfang, practically running and gasping as she finally closed in on the long-striding hobgoblin. “Wait! Listen, Direfang. Listen!”
He slowed only to pick her up and set her on his shoulders. She wrapped her arms around his neck, then she held her face to the back of his head, finding it easier to talk with the air not quite so dusty against his scalp.
“Listen to the growling, Direfang!” She moved her lips close to one ear. “The mountains growl like maddened bears. Rabid and hungry, the mountains taunt each other. Goblins are caught in the argument between the mountains, Direfang. Goblins will die to the mountains’ venomous bickering!”
The hobgoblin frowned, trying to figure out just what Mudwort was saying. He wasn’t sure even she knew exactly.
“This quake is longer than the ones before, Mudwort,” he replied stoically. “This quake seems to follow us and does not stop. This is not like what happened at Steel Town.”
She thumped her heels against his chest, as a rider would knee a horse to get it to go faster. “This is not a quake, Direfang. The quakes started this argument, though. Listened a moment ago to the earth. Listened to the earth explain that the quakes from days ago woke up the mountains.”
He slowed but only a little, wanting to be able to hear her a little better. He knew better than to ignore her words.
“The mountains woke up, still tired, Direfang. Cranky and mean, the mountains shake now and spit smoke into the sky. The mountains’ bellies are filled with fire.” She moved her hands to the sides of the hobgoblin’s head and forced him to turn his gaze slightly. “The river of red over there … that mountain belched it up. This mountain will-”
The trail bucked beneath them, cracks appearing everywhere. Goblins screamed and called for those in front to run faster.