After several seconds' hesitation, the guard said, “You move back.”
Catchflea complied with alacrity. Once more Riverwind tensed.
The bolt rattled back. The heavy door swung out. The thin beam of a hooded lantern stabbed into the cell, finding Di An writhing in genuine pain on the floor.
“Stand away,” said the deep, raspy voice of a goblin. Catchflea backed up until his feet were by Di An's head. The goblin entered slowly, lantern in his left hand and a flanged mace in his right. Riverwind waited until the handle of the mace was near enough to grab. He sprang.
And the guard flashed the lantern in his face. Riverwind was blinded for a second, but closed one hand over the mace handle. The goblin swung the lantern at his head. Thus distracted, Riverwind didn't see Catchflea whip off his tattered shirt and fling it over the goblin's head.
The brass lantern banged into Riverwind's skull, but his thick hair and headband softened the blow. When it became clear he couldn't wrestle the mace away from the guard, Riverwind put his shoulder down and butted him. The goblin was a head shorter than the plainsman, but almost twice as heavy. They slammed into the wall. The guard gave a cry, muffled by Catchflea's old shirt around his head. He dropped the lantern to better grapple with Riverwind. The oil bowl spilled out and ignited. Little rivulets of flame danced across the cell, adding weird highlights to the confused scene.
Despite her pain, Di An rose and flung herself at the guard. She wrapped her arms around one meaty leg and sank her teeth into the relatively soft flesh behind his knee. The goblin growled and clawed at the girl. His ironlike nails raked her back, tearing open the copper mesh dress.
Riverwind wrenched the guard's weapon hand. The mace banged to the floor. He leaped back, seized the club, and laid the goblin out with two quick blows. The oil flames flickered and went out.
All three stood panting. “Anyone hurt?' Riverwind managed to ask.
“You mean, besides him?” Catchflea retrieved his shirt.
The goblin had a utility knife in a belt sheath. Riverwind passed this to Di An.
There was a large rip across the back of Di An's black mesh dress. The goblin had also clawed away the paint in many places, revealing bright copper. She took the knife from Riverwind and slipped it into her woven chain belt.
The foyer was empty. So was the street outside, though torches blazed along the facade of the old palace. They kept to the shadowed side of the street and worked their way toward the ruined round tower.
“Where are we going?” Catchflea whispered.
“Back into the cave,” said Riverwind.
“The cave! Why?”
“Keep your voice down. Where else can we go?”
The tramp of heavy feet alerted them. Riverwind pushed Catchflea ahead of him, and together they dived for the shelter of a low, broken stone wall. Di An melted into the shadows by the guard hall. Two goblins, wrapped in green cloaks, marched past.
“How many did we hang today?” said one.
“Six,” replied the other.
“It doesn't seem to bother them much,” the first grunted.
“They're too stupid.”
They walked on. Catchflea said, “Thouriss is carrying out reprisals against the gully dwarves!”
“I heard,” Riverwind said grimly.
They waved for Di An to join them. Like lightning, they flashed across the cracked and ruined road to the tumbledown tower. From there they could see the hole that led back into the caverns.
It was blocked.
The goblins had filled the hole with rubble, a very common commodity in Xak Tsaroth. Riverwind, ever a temperate man, was sorely tempted to swear blasphemies against the unjust gods. Di An wept quietly.
“There, there,” Catchflea said. “We'll find another way.”
“It's not just that,” she sniffled. “My knees ache terribly!”
“The pain is moving up, yes,” Catchflea said. He held the weeping elf girl close and stroked her short hair. To his surprise, strands came off in his hand. Catchflea discreetly let these fall to the ground and remained silent. Inside, he was very afraid for Di An. What might Krago's potion do to her?
“We'll go to the Aghar town,” Riverwind decided. “Maybe there we'll find willing allies.”
“Suppose they turn us over to the lizard men?” Catchflea said. “To win Thouriss's favor?”
“Gully dwarves are stupid, not cruel,” Riverwind noted. “Besides, I can't think of anything better.”
The two goblins had rounded the corner and were headed back toward the Court of Reception. “Let's go,” Riverwind said.
They cut across the street in front of the old tower. Di An could hardly walk, much less pad silently, so Riverwind scooped her up.
It seemed to the plainsman that Di An was heavier. But, like Catchflea, he kept silent, not wishing to add to her fear. His own worry increased.
On the other side, a deep gash split the street. The stream that ran down the center of the old road splashed into the hole. Riverwind and Catchflea waded through the knee-deep water. Another street branched off directly in front of them. The blank walls of the gully dwarf settlement gave no clue as to who or what lay on the other side. Light spilled out of the adjoining street ahead. In single file, Riverwind- still carrying Di An-and Catchflea crept down the street, always keeping to the shadowed side of the wall. They halted at a corner, and Riverwind set Di An gently down.
Dropping low on the pavement, Riverwind peeked around the corner. A small plaza opened out at the end of the short alley, and there, lit by bundles of torches, was a terrible sight. The goblins had erected a gallows, and a single gully dwarf still hung there. Riverwind whispered this to his friends.
“The families must have claimed the others,” Catchflea said. “I wonder who the poor fellow is who's still there.”
“Whoever he is, he doesn't deserve a fate like this,” Riverwind replied. “I'm going to cut him down.”
“Suppose you're seen?” Di An said.
But the plainsman was gone. He slipped around the corner and moved slowly down the street. Riverwind unhooked the mace from his belt and flattened himself against the near wall. The torches threw the shadow of a lurking goblin on the opposite wall. He was standing guard. Riverwind found a loose stone chip and tossed it into the plaza. The guard presented his pike and growled, “Who goes there?” When no one answered, he advanced a pace. Riverwind could have reached out and touched the wicked iron head of the pike.
The goblin was about to return to his post when Riverwind flicked another pebble into the dark end of the square. The guard advanced three steps this time. He never saw Riverwind as the mace came down on his head. Riverwind dragged the heavy creature into the alley. He donned the goblin's cloak and helmet, and ported the pike on his shoulder. He marched out into the middle of the plaza. There were two more goblins off to the left, but they paid no attention to one of their own.
Riverwind stepped up on the stone slab that had been set up as the base of the gallows. The poor gully dwarf's face was turned away, for which Riverwind was grateful. He put his shoulder under the thick little man and cut the rope with the pike head. Riverwind lowered the gully dwarf to the scaffold.
It was Brud Stonesifter.
Thouriss had succeeded. Riverwind felt a lump in his throat. Along with many of his fellows, Brud had suffered and died because of them, because they had forced him to help them.
“I am sorry,” Riverwind whispered.
“Huh?” said Brud.
Riverwind nearly fell over backward. “Did you speak?” he hissed, eyeing the two goblins. They were hunched over, busy in conversation. They hadn't heard.
“Uh-huh. Brud hungry. Got a rat leg I can gnaw?”
Aghar eating habits aside, Riverwind was astonished. “I saw you hanging! How can you be alive?”