Hardly had she finished this declaration when a trio of hideous, gnarled creatures appeared in the undergrowth, obviously following the woman’s trail. Verhanna’s lip curled in disgust.
“Goblins,” she said with distaste. “I’ll settle with them.”
They were indeed goblins, but of the most backward and gruesome sort. All wore necklaces of human or elven teeth and bones, and one wore a sort of helmet made from a human skull. Their long fangs protruded over their bottom lips. Even from ten yards away, it was impossible not to smell their rank odor. The goblins were armed with crude maces made from lumps of rounded stone tied to thick ironwood handles. The sight of Verhanna, sword in hand, did not seem to upset the angry creatures. They must be desperately hungry, the captain decided, or driven mad by the suffocating heat.
Verhanna rode straight at them while the kender fitted a pellet into his sling. Clutching her baby tightly, the human woman crawled through the dead leaves until Rufus’s broad horse was between her and the goblins.
Leaning forward, Verhanna smote the nearest creature with her keen Qualinesti blade. The goblin gave an inarticulate gurgle and dropped his club, his chest split open from shoulder to breastbone. The captain planted a foot on his chest and withdrew her blade. The goblin was dead before he hit the ground.
The other two monsters separated, one on each side of the warrior woman’s horse. They swept their maces back and forth, warding off her sword. The goblin on Verhanna’s left tried to get by to reach the woman cowering in the leaves. Before the captain could turn to cut him off, Rufus had put a pellet in the center of the goblin’s forehead. Stunned, the cannibal creature fell facedown.
“Nice shot!” Verhanna cried.
“Look out!” yelled the kender at the same time.
His warning came too late. Verhanna had been distracted by the first goblin and had turned her back on the other. The second creature, who wore the human skull on its pointed head, dropped its mace in favor of using its teeth and claws. Grabbing her with its taloned hands, he yanked the captain off her horse.
Rufus drew his knife and half fell from his mount. The goblin sank its fangs into Verhanna’s shoulder. She yelled loudly enough to rattle the leaves on the trees, and together she and the goblin toppled to the ground. The creature wrapped its arms and legs around her, entwining its rubbery black toes together. As Verhanna tried to pry it off, they rolled over and over in the leaves, locked in deadly embrace.
When the goblin presented its back to him, Rufus rammed his iron blade into its body—once, twice, thrice. The ferocious creature howled and let go of Verhanna. It turned on the little kender, murder in its bulging red eyes. Rufus held out his short blade and looked startled. How would it feel to be torn to bits by a filthy, heat-crazed goblin?
Wounded but not out of the fight, the captain flung herself at her sword where it lay in the dead leaves. As the wounded goblin gathered itself to leap on the kender, Verhanna beheaded it with one two-handed blow. Then the blade fell from her hands and she collapsed.
Just then the goblin that Rufus had knocked out with a pellet stirred noisily in the leaves. The kender quickly dispatched it by cutting its throat, then rushed to Verhanna.
“Captain, can you hear me?” he shouted.
“Of course I can hear you, Wart,” she muttered. “I’m not deaf.”
Indignation spread over the kender’s mobile face. “I thought you were dead!”
“Not yet. Help me up.”
Rufus pulled on her arm until Verhanna was able to sit up. Aside from the bite wound on her right shoulder and a few cuts and bruises, she didn’t seem to be seriously injured.
“Where’s the woman and her baby?” she asked, pushing her tumbled brown hair out of her eyes. Rufus looked toward his horse; there was no sign of the woman. In the confusion of battle, she must have fled. He didn’t blame her. For a moment, it had looked like the goblins were going to get the best of them.
“She skedaddled,” he reported, wiping the noxious goblin blood from his knife blade. “No sign of her or the baby.”
“That’s gratitude for you,” grumbled Verhanna, wobbling to her knees. “Ugh! These goblins are the filthiest creatures I know.”
Studying her shoulder dispassionately, the kender said, “Your wounds should be washed, but we haven’t any water.”
“Never mind. We’ll be at the Astradine soon.”
The captain put a hand on her scout’s shoulder and heaved herself to her feet. The two of them remounted their horses, and Verhanna took one last look at the bloody scene before they moved on. Her shoulder burned as if a glowing coal had been set under the skin. Verhanna held her reins limply in her left hand, favoring her injured side.
“Wait a minute,” said Rufus. “This isn’t the way we came in.”
“Are you sure?”
He scratched his head and looked all around. There was nothing but trees and brush in all directions. “Blind me with beeswax! Which way do we go?” Shielding his eyes with his hands, the kender squinted into the hazy sky. The immobile sun gave no clue which direction they should take.
“Can’t you find the trail?” Verhanna asked hoarsely. “That’s what I pay you for, to be a scout.”
Rufus leapt to the ground. He sniffed the dead leaves and dry moss. He turned his head, straining for any sound. Finally, in desperation, he shouted, “Ho, Kivinellis! Can you hear me? Where are you?” In spite of repeated calls, there was no answer. At last the kender turned to Verhanna and shrugged helplessly.
“Wart,” she said weakly, “you’re fired.”
Verhanna’s eyes rolled up until only the white showed. Without another sound, she toppled from her saddle and landed squarely on the kender.
Mashed flat on his back, with only his head showing under the prostrate warrior maiden, Rufus groaned loudly. “Ow! Feels like a bear fell on me!”
There was no response from his captain. Finally he managed to haul himself out from under her and rolled her over. Verhanna was still breathing, but her face was deathly pale and her skin blazed hotter than the calm, radiant air.
Rufus set to work. He hadn’t lived so long by his own wits without learning a thing or two about sickness. His captain had been poisoned by the filthy goblin’s fangs, and unless he could cool her off, the raging fever would be the death of her.
Among their camp gear was a short-handled spade. The kender used it to rake away the layers of leaves that covered the forest floor. Within seconds, he was down to black soil. Below the dry top layer, he knew the earth would be moist and cool. Disregarding his parched throat and sweat-stung eyes, Rufus dug a shallow hole six feet long, two feet wide, and eight inches deep. It was hard going. The forest soil was a tangle of roots, rocks, and chunks of decayed wood. The captain was his friend though, and Rufus intended to do everything he could to save her. An hour after she’d fallen from her horse, the hole was ready for her.
Dropping his shovel, the kender dragged the much larger half-elf woman to the shallow pit and rolled her in so she lay on her back. Collapsing over her unmoving form, he panted and puffed with the exertion. This was hard work, especially since it was like toiling in a blast furnace. Not, of course, that Rufus had ever toiled in a blast furnace…
After a bit, he set about heaping damp dirt around her and scattering leaves on top of her. Her face he left uncovered. Steam rose from the ground, drawn out either by the hot, dry air or Verhanna’s fever. Finished at last, Rufus sat down near his captain’s head and waited.
He prayed to the Blue Lady to heal Verhanna; to be fair, he also addressed the goddess of healing by her Qualinesti name, Quen. Perhaps if he prayed to both her incarnations, she would be more likely to heal his captain.
Verhanna shifted restlessly under her covering of leaves and moist soil. The kender patted her forehead distractedly and pondered his situation. If Verhanna died, should he return to Qualinost with the news, or go on with the hunt for the Kagonesti slavers? And if she lived, how could they go on? How could anyone find his way cross-country without the sun or moons or stars to guide him?