“A parasite, she is, then,” one of the knights muttered. “Eating, drinking, and doing nothing. But too young to throw on the burning pile from the looks of her. A sorry parasite!”
Some of the goblins understood a few of the words, and those who didn’t caught the knight’s disparaging tone. They growled softly and spat; some shook their fists. But they made no move to draw closer. Any threatening action might end in a beating. And that would end the healing.
“A parasite, yes, which we cannot have,” the Skull Knight said flatly. “My magic cannot change the position of the baby inside her.” He splayed his fingers. “But my magic can remove the danger and bring her back to work as quickly as possible.”
A sickly green light centered on the back of the Skull Knight’s hand and darkened and spread, oozing down his fingers and sinking into Graytoes’ stomach. “Watch the slaves and be ready,” the priest cautioned. The knights straightened and wrapped their hands around the pommels of their swords.
Graytoes screamed and arched her back.
Moon-eyes shouted, “No!” and grabbed at the Skull Knight, trying to rip him away from his mate. But the priest was too strong and pushed Moon-eye off with his free hand. The green light brightened and covered all of her stomach.
The goblins in that area of the pen grew agitated, many of them shouting questions, some pressing forward and hurling threats at the Skull Knight, if he deliberately hurt Graytoes. Direfang was helpless to intervene. He barked at the slaves, ordering them to stay back and held his arms outstretched to keep them away from the slats of the pen.
“No!” Moon-eye wailed, drawing the syllable out much longer than usual. “Direfang, make the skull man stop! Moon-eye’s Heart the skull man breaks! Stop, please, please stop!”
The Skull Knight finally finished, rising slowly and watching Graytoes’ belly shrivel. She screamed and screamed as her baby was expelled in a pool of blood, its small form unmoving, dead between her legs. One of the attendant knights picked it up and gestured toward the burning corpse pile.
“This goblin will need to rest tomorrow at least,” the priest told Direfang. “Then the day following, if her legs have mended, she can work in the mine a half shift.”
“And full shifts all her following days,” one of the knights added.
The priest and his attendants moved on, continuing to circle the pen, checking on more wounded goblins and treating some. But they were already weary of the job and announced another priest would be along in the morning to see to the rest.
They left behind a haunting medley of sounds: the crackling of the pyre, Moon-eye’s wails and Graytoes’ gasping sobs, angry murmuring from groups of goblins. Then a gentle rumbling sound began beneath their feet.
“The quake is coming!” Mudwort exclaimed, suddenly appearing next to Direfang. “The angry earth is talking again.”
“Time to be free,” Direfang said. He looked out over the heads of the goblins and hobgoblins, to the east beyond the pyre. He took a step in that direction but stopped when someone grabbed his tattered trouser leg. It was Moon-eye.
“You carry Moon-eye’s Heart,” the one-eyed goblin implored. “Direfang, it is time to leave this Dark Knight hole. There is nothing but death and hate here.”
14
Then the ground rumbled fiercely, a real shock wave. Direfang didn’t hesitate. He grabbed up Graytoes and barreled into the fence, splitting the slats and rushing through the barrier. At the same time, a giant crevice opened up at the western edge of the slave pen, sucking a number of hapless goblins and fence posts down into the angry earth.
Slaves screamed in terror, and many followed Direfang, who stumbled to his knees as the ground shook harder.
“Take care with Moon-eye’s Heart! Don’t drop Moon-eye’s Heart!”
Moon-eye was close behind. Direfang growled but cradled Graytoes to his chest as he lumbered to his feet. She whimpered, and he couldn’t tell if she was in pain or was still weeping over what the Skull Knight had done to her baby. The hobgoblin whirled to the east, doing his best not to jar Graytoes. Slaves swarmed around him. The continually-rattling ground made it difficult to keep his footing.
Goblins surrounded him and raced ahead of him, all panicked and jabbering, all calling out for his leadership. A foreman in the mine, he was someone they expected to give orders and aid, but the only thing he could say was, “Run! Run! Follow! Don’t stop running! Feyrh!”
All around he heard the knights moving and yelling, but the earthquake was strong, and it was rocking Steel Town.
There were five large slave pens, and Direfang had been in the middle one. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Skull Knight and his two attendants. They’d still been out when the quake hit. One of the attendants was on the ground, overrun by goblins. Another was slashing with his sword, his back to the priest, who was weaving a pattern in the air.
He was casting a spell, Direfang knew, and he didn’t want to be anywhere within range of the magic. “Faster!” he called to the goblins around him. Graytoes was not such a heavy burden, and she had stopped her whimpering. He fixed his eyes on the tops of goblin heads in front of him, thinking … escape … freedom.
“Moon-eye … where is Moon-eye?” Graytoes reached up to get his attention, touching the hobgoblin’s neck.
“Hopefully running fast,” Direfang returned, glancing over his shoulder. Moon-eye had vanished in the melee. Hopefully not dead, he added to himself when he heard another wave of screams behind him and an ominous crashing sound.
“The ground eats us!” The frightened voice was human, a laborer or a knight. The hobgoblin wished it to be the Skull Knight who took Graytoes’ child. “It swallows us like a beast!”
“Let it swallow the whole town,” the hobgoblin muttered to himself, running. Ahead, Direfang saw the goblins part as the earth directly in front of the running crowd heaved and buckled. A crevice opened; then one side of it rose up while the other side collapsed upon itself. Goblins tumbled over the steep side, climbing over each other and falling back down again, shouting and screaming. Another crack formed, opening just wide enough to suck several goblins inside then opening wider and folding on top of the trapped slaves.
Direfang cut a wide course around the gap and kept running.
“Moon-eye,” Graytoes pleaded, again whimpering. “Direfang find Moon-eye, please.”
The hobgoblin snorted in irritation, trying alternatively to keep his gaze locked ahead and on the goblins pressing so close that they threatened to trip him.
“Moon-eye-”
“Will live or die this night, Graytoes,” Direfang finally returned. “Die to the quake or the Dark Knights. Hush.”
“Moon-eye-”
“Hush, Graytoes! Hush and live.” Direfang had no intention of dropping her and leaving her behind, but he couldn’t stop to look for Moon-eye and didn’t want to listen to her distracting pleas anymore. He needed to listen for the Dark Knights and to the rumbling of the ground.
Grallik had been resting when the second major quake struck. Pitched from the bench he’d been dozing on, he was nearly trampled by a group of knights rushing past.
“The slaves!” one hollered to him. “They escape, Guardian N’sera! Hundreds! In this quake, they dare to run!”
The chaos that had filled Steel Town when the quake hit two days past paled beside the fresh commotion, Grallik realized as he futilely looked around for loyal members of his talon. The lone wall of the largest barracks shook and dissolved in a heartbeat, right before his eyes. The new well with its ring of stones shuddered, the stones toppling inward and spiderweb cracks emanating in all directions from the hole. The cracks sped toward Grallik as he dashed toward the slave pens. He was nearer to the pens than to the makeshift infirmary, where healthy knights were stationed to help protect Marshal Montrill and the other wounded troops.