The stupid humanoids were still following, wanting revenge for the attack.
Kaldre had lost five of his followers to the goblins before he had routed them, more with fear than with weapons. He had killed three, but they had numbered more than forty. While he watched, four advanced toward the ambush. They were moving cautiously, as if not sure whether to attack or not.
Not, he decided.
He had routed them once, he could do it again. He turned his horse and moved slowly over the crest of the ridge. Hidden by the growth at the top, he was able to ride out of sight of the trail. Cursing the kender, who had alerted the goblins by shouting up and down the gullies, he gritted his teeth and spurred the horse along the steep slope.
Because of the kender he had to leave the scene of the ambush to drive off the goblins. Because of the kender the kobold might find the gate stone the female carried and damage it in some way before the death knight could get back to them.
A shout might have warned the goblins off, but it might also alert the kender who were said to have sharp ears. Kaldre rode straight at the goblins, hoping they did not cry out. Unfortunately he had not seen all the band. Two had crept closer to his position than he had realized. His eye had been on the leader and he flushed two who were further up the slope and nearer to him, though they had been well hidden until he rode by the bushes where they had taken cover.
They broke and ran, shouting a warning as they went. Neither took more than ten steps before the death knight was on them. His swinging sword decapitated one and hacked through the shoulder of the second, leaving the goblin on the ground, screaming in misery. The rest of the goblins broke away, all except one, smaller than the rest.
A goblin shaman.
Unafraid of the death knight, he threw a spell, a greenish cloud that spread itself as it neared Kaldre. Not sure what the magic of a goblin could do to him, the death knight hauled back on the reins of his mount. The horse skidded and managed to turn away from the greenish cloud, but he slipped and lost his footing on the muddy mountainside.
As Kaldre went down, he saw another, blue white mist leave the hands of the shaman. He was crouched, just getting to his feet and knew he could not escape the second spell. As it closed over him with a cold deeper than death, his arms and legs froze into immobility.
Helpless, held in place by the freezing spell, Kaldre expected the goblins to attack and hack him to pieces, but they backed away, down the mountain. It was then he realized that less than half the goblins had been creeping up the spur.
Where were the rest of them?
Chapter 21
All kender love travel, and my Uncle Trapspringer was no exception…
As they journeyed north, Trap felt the warmth of the sun on his left cheek, while his right was cooled by a late afternoon breeze. Soon they should begin looking for a place to camp for the night. He was looking about for a stream-they should camp near water-when he saw a snake gliding over the grass. The reptile's intended victim was a bright blue bird who tugged at a worm.
"Oh, no you don't," Trap shouted and forgot he was leading his pony. He released the reins and scampered up the gentle incline. He picked up a rock, flipped his hoopak up and set the stone in the pouch. His aim wasn't as good as it should have been, but he did startle the snake.
"Your pony!" Halmarain cried, pointing down the slope. Trap's mount, freed from the restraints of the reins, had left the trail and wandered off down the slope toward a smooth stretch of range grass.
"Hey, where are you going?" Trap shouted at the animal and dashed after it.
The pony saw the kender chasing it and trotted away. It stopped just long enough to grab a bite of grass and chewed as it moved off again.
"Come here," Trap laughed, not at all irritated with the animal. It seemed to be teasing him, playing a game, and he was willing to take part in the fun.
"Will you stop clowning around and catch that pony?" the wizard yelled at him as the rest of the party approached an area of low bushes and boulders.
Trap turned his head to answer. Definitely not a good idea, he decided. While he had been looking back over his shoulder, he had stepped into a shallow swale of loose rock. He lost his footing and fell sprawling. By the time he regained his feet he realized the pony had trotted farther away.
"I won't be long, he's stopped-" Trap forgot what he'd been saying. He had reached a clump of bushes and out of it came a goblin. The kender stared at the humanoid, who seemed as surprised as Trap, for a long, uncertain moment. Trap recovered first.
"Hello. Would you mind helping me catch my pony?" he asked brightly. "Do you live here? Maybe you know where the rocks are. The grass hides them you see, and-"
"Kill kender, eat pony," the goblin interrupted with a snarl and stepped forward with his spiked club raised.
"No. I don't think so. I don't like that idea at all," Trap said, dancing back just as a second goblin appeared from concealment behind a second bush. Then he paused.
"Eat pony? Wow! That would be interesting. What does pony taste like?" He would not want to make a meal of his mount, but the question intrigued him.
It also intrigued the goblins. Their battles were usually against their own kind, kobolds, or humans, and neither of the two had ever found themselves in conversation with their enemies. They exchanged puzzled looks, apparently not knowing whether they should answer, or how.
Their confusion gave Trap just enough time to slip a hand into his pouch and fumble for one of the two rings he carried. When he had slipped one on his finger, he looked down at himself. He was still visible, so he knew he must be wearing the one that let him take giant steps. He took one step backward and nearly fell over the cliff behind him.
"Wow! That was close. Not such a good idea," he told himself as he teetered on the edge and looked down at the drop of thirty feet. Bruises were not interesting at all.
The goblins stared at his sudden removal from the reach of their weapons, but an enemy running away was something they understood. They howled and chased after him. One stumbled on the uneven ground and fell on his face, but the other skidded across the stones seemingly too intent on his prey to fall.
Trap heard a shout from up the mountains and saw more goblins. He heard Halmarain cry out, Beglug wailed, and then came the high pitched scream of a kobold. He saw one of the small humanoids racing for cover.
For a brief second, Trap stood on the edge of the precipice, wondering what was happening. Kobolds and goblins again. Up the slope he saw a goblin stagger into sight with a kobold spear in his chest. A hundred yards away the goblin who had suggested eating his pony was chasing the kender's mount. The animal trotted back toward the trail. The other goblin charged Trap as Ripple screamed his name.
Since he wore the magic ring, Trap knew he was in no danger and had planned to tease the goblin, stepping out of the way. He knew he was being attacked, but he was not at all angry about it. When Ripple called to him, he lost all interest in the game. His sister needed him, and he had no time for his attacker.
Holding his hoopak in front of him like a spear, he stepped forward, using the force of his giant step to drive the sharp, metal-tipped point through the humanoid's belly. The goblin's spear had been pointed at him and Trap had twisted to avoid the point, still it clipped the shoulder of his tunic. When the goblin fell backward, Trap jerked his hoopak free and looked around.
He had decided his first course of action would be to rescue his pony, but if his sister was in trouble, he wanted to get to her. What to do-which way to go? Would he reach Ripple faster if he caught his mount? No, he decided, but he was not going to allow the goblin to eat his pony either.