Lannon breathed a quiet sigh that certainly wasn't one of relief. To Lannon's way of thinking-the more Goblins, the merrier the trip would be.
"If you ask me," said Furlus, "the worst thing about the Bloodlands is not the danger of Goblin attacks or quick pools-it's the stench. At times it becomes almost unbearable, even for an Olrog like myself to handle."
"The Bloodlands have grown more dangerous recently," said Taris. "This road was used frequently by travelers only a couple years ago. Rangers were plentiful back then. Now many of them have given up on this stretch. They just don't earn enough in tips anymore to make it worth the effort."
"Now Knights are the only ones who use it," said Furlus, "save for the truly brave and truly stupid-if there's much difference between the two."
"Enough," said Cordus. "We don't want to scare the boy."
"I'm not scared," said Lannon, and then quickly added, "or stupid, either." That sent the three Knights into booming laughter.
That night they camped in a tent. Lannon fell asleep pondering what the Bloodlands were going to be like. Occasionally Taris would rise and go tend the small watch fire he somehow kept burning outside despite the rain. Later that night, Furlus took to snoring so loud the tent seemed to shake, and the others had to keep elbowing him in the ribs to shut him up, which made him mutter curses at them.
The rain continued the next day. They didn't ride far before a weathered sign came into view from the fog by the roadside. It announced:
BEWARE! MIDDLE BLOODLANDS AHEAD
GOBLIN BREEDING GROUNDS!
STAY ON THE NORTH ROAD AT ALL TIMES!
"Cover your noses," grumbled Furlus.
At first Lannon thought the Knights were exaggerating about the stench. But it crept up on him, building bit by bit, until he seemed to be choking on it. The rain grew heavier, the mist thicker. The trail became treacherous, with deep, muddy pools and great black roots that made the horses stumble. The trees that reached forth from the fog grew larger and more twisted, and shadows seemed to hang like doom amid their branches. These were obviously Iracus Trees, but Lannon no longer cared. He hung his head low against the steady drizzle, and he kept shifting about in the saddle trying to find new positions that would ease the soreness from riding. Once in awhile he looked up, imagining that the Firepit Mountains and Dremlock Kingdom would meet his gaze, but always there was only more fog, mud, and the evil-looking trees.
Lannon's thoughts dwelt more and more on home. Were his father and mother at peace now, or were they still ranting at each over every petty thing imaginable? He was nagged by guilt for leaving them to their fate, and he had to keep reminding himself that this was something they had wanted for him.
The rain fell harder. The roots that crisscrossed the road became larger and more tangled, forcing the travelers to ride at half their normal speed. The Iracus Trees grew closer together, almost as a forest in places. No sign of animal life existed here-not even Goblins, from what Lannon could see, on the rare occasions when he bothered to lift his head for a glance.
Furlus pointed at a particularly vicious tangle of roots, shaking his head. "What's wrong with the Rangers these days? They've grown lazy, if you ask me. This road used to be decent for traveling, aside from the smell. Now look at it."
"Would you want to spend weeks or months here," said Taris, "doing little but killing Goblins and chopping at roots and trees?"
"If that's how I made my living, yes," said Furlus. "And I'd do a better job than these lazy Rangers, who don't know what hard work is."
The sorcerer laughed. "What we do is not, at the worst of times, any more miserable than what these Rangers put up with. If some grow weary of it and seek their fortune elsewhere, who are we to question it?"
The Grey Dwarf glowered at Taris. "You say I know nothing of hard work? Who spends the most time with the Squires, seeing to their training? Who runs the Deep Forge and keeps the other Olrogs in line? And who hides away in his tower practicing his witchcraft, day in and day out? I do most of the work around Dremlock!"
"Enough," said Cordus. "I know we're all miserable, but I don't want to hear this nonsense from my Tower Masters. The stench is bad enough. Do my ears need assaulting as well?"
As they rounded a curve, from out of the mist rode a woman on a great white horse that was heavily laden with packs. She wore battered chain mail and dirty clothes. A dagger and sword hung from her belt, and slung across her back was a bow and a quiver of arrows. Her long auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her green eyes were stern, her face hard yet beautiful. Crouched next to her was a black wolf, watching them intently, ready to spring if the need should arise.
The rider raised her hand and the Knights halted. For a moment she sat in silence, studying the Knights and Lannon with a piercing gaze that seemed to leave no detail hidden. Then she spoke in an amused voice. "Cordus, Furlus, and Taris. Are you three on an important mission? Is this boy a spy of the Blood Legion, or a Goblin in disguise?"
"Is this any way to greet Divine Knights, Saranna?" Cordus said.
Saranna smiled. "Maybe you're not as divine as you think, Lord Knight. Right now you look as wet and muddy as any tree-hacking Ranger."
Lannon tensed up, wondering if a fight was brewing. Surely this Ranger had to be a fool to speak that way to the Knights.
But the Knights only chuckled.
"It's good to see you again, old friend," said Cordus. "But we must make haste and have no time for idle talk."
"I have more on my mind than idle talk," said Saranna. "There has been trouble up ahead. A wagon was hit and a rich merchant slain. His money and goods were stolen."
"And have the ones responsible been brought to justice?" said Cordus.
"They have not," said Saranna. "They've gone deep into the swamps, where even Rangers dare not travel."
"Then the thieves are good as dead," said Cordus. "The swamps will devour them. We need not concern ourselves with this matter."
"The thieves live," said Saranna. "For they are Goblins."
"Are you saying lowly Goblins stole a merchant's goods?" said Cordus. "Everyone knows Goblins lack such intelligence."
"It was done by Goblins," said Saranna. "The tracks are unmistakable. And the money chests were ripped open. I found claw marks in the wood. This isn't the first time Goblins in this region have done things like this."
The Knights exchanged knowing glances. Then Cordus leaned forward and frowned. "The merchant should not have been allowed to travel this road. Only Knights must be granted permission to pass here henceforth."
Saranna shrugged. "I lack such authority, Cordus. I'm simply here to protect travelers and earn my tips."
"I see," said Cordus. "Regardless, I have a favor to ask of you-that you refrain from mentioning this incident to anyone. We wouldn't want to stir up panic all over Silverland. That could cause trade to slow or even stop, and could possibly lead to hunger or other ills. I know that as a Ranger-and the best of your lot as far as I'm concerned-you might feel obligated to inform the people of danger, but in this case silence is the wiser path. And I now grant you authority to close this road to all who lack written permission signed by my own hand. It seems the North Road has become too dangerous to be kept open to public use."
Saranna sighed thoughtfully. "I'll discuss it with the other Rangers. Together, we can close this road to the public. Yet folks should be warned of this danger. If Goblins are becoming intelligent enough to steal money… Well, I've never heard of such a thing. This is huge news, and strange beyond imagining!"
Lannon's gaze passed back and forth from the Ranger to the Knights, and chills crept over his flesh. Goblins, growing as intelligent as humans? Lannon had always imagined Goblins as being nothing more than fierce, yet mindless, monsters-simple animals. If they actually were gaining human-like intelligence, it would make them vastly more dangerous, and he suddenly lost all desire to encounter any.