Jeff Grubb: Lord Toede

"Why is it a pity?" said Taywin, her cute brow wrinkling in small dimples.

"Didn't Groag tell you?" said Toede, miming shock at an apparent breach of common sense. "The best berries are always on the eastern side. They take in the dying sun, and as such blush the reddest. It's common hobgoblin lore…"

Groag started to say, "I never heard of…" but Toede stepped in quickly, "Perhaps he was waiting to tell you later. I'm sorry if I spoiled the surprise." Toede gave a quarter turn toward his companion, his eyes flashing the threat of holy terror.

"Well, yes," said Groag quickly, "a surprise. It was going to be a surprise.

"Perhaps next time, then…" said Toede. "Besides, there's no way to cross this creek."

Toede took three half-steps away, then turned. Taywin was still standing there, thinking. Watching a kender gather her thoughts made Toede think of an old rain barrel about to explode from being overfilled.

"I've never heard of that business about the eastern side," said the kender at length, "but there's a log wide enough to walk across a hundred yards or so down below. We can check it out."

For the first time the guard spoke, and Toede realized why he had kept silent-his voice cracked with adolescence. "Milady, these are prisoners, and…"

"Oh, for Mishakal's sake, Miles," said Taywin. "It will only take a moment, and Daddy will be back this afternoon so there won't be that much to have them do."

The five of them (the dog padding along in last place) weaved their way down along the banks to where an ancient maple had fallen across a narrows. It had been used as a bridge before, and most of the bark had already peeled away, leaving a smooth, straight pole between opposite banks of slippery rock.

The kender ideal of "crossable" was at great odds with the hobgoblin definition of the same, or anyone else's for that matter. The water thundered about ten feet below in a torrent, squeezing between the two rocky banks before passing over a low falls and into a series of rapids.

"Better berries, you say?" said Taywin, taking the lunch basket from the guard.

The guard shook his head, "I don't think it's wise to take the prisoners across, milady."

"If I may be so bold," broke in Toede, "but the young man, sorry, young kender is correct. In our current condition I don't think we could make it across such a narrow crossing." He held out his chained hands and cocked his head at the young female.

Taywin looked at the cuffs as if they had just that moment entered her vision. Toede could swear steam was pouring out her ears as her brain struggled to grasp the concept that two chained hobgoblins could not cross the stream. She touched the iron key that hung around her neck as if it were a holy fetish.

Then she nodded. "Right. I'll go across first and see if the berries are truly sweeter. Then next time we'll bring more guards and do some major picking."

With that she turned and, with surefooted ease, started to cross the log, ignoring the fact that the crossing lacked anything resembling a handrail and was slick with spray.

Toede sighed as the young kender guard stepped up next to him. "She's real smart, she is," the kender said with a grin.

"Very," agreed Toede, nodding. "I notice how she never during the entire morning got within an arm's length of me. Not like you are now."

The kender guard was about to respond, but the words (and several of his teeth) were shoved back down his throat by Toede's iron-manacled forearm.

The guard went down like a lump of suet, and Toede reached out and grabbed his spear before it hit the ground. Then he kicked the guard for good measure, watching the kender curl up in a small pain-filled ball.

The mastiff growled and was rewarded with a hard rap across the nose from the spear shaft. The hound retreated two paces and growled again, crouching. Toede raised the spear to throw it, and the dog bolted for the woods, yip-ping.

The kender was still down, spitting blood. Groag looked at Toede in shock. "Why did you do that?"

"Couldn't you see? He was about to read us a poem," snapped Toede, and started dragging his compatriot toward the fallen log. "Come on."

"But we can't get very far in these," whined the lesser hobgoblin, rattling the manacles and chain between them.

Toede turned and glared at his companion. "But she has the key, and there are two of us. Now come on."

Groag said nothing, but reluctantly followed the high-master to the edge of the thundering stream.

The passage had gotten very slick indeed at the center of the beam, and Tay win had reached out her arms to both sides to balance herself. Now she looked back for a moment and spotted Toede starting to inch along the beam, shuffling sideways along the span. That was her first clue that something had gone wrong. The second clue was the fact that he held the guard's spear, about a third of the way down from its flint-tipped head, and was using it as a balancing pole. The third clue was that Toede was smiling. It was a frightening, ear-to-ear smile.

"What's wrong?" Taywin shouted to make herself heard over the rushing water. "You shouldn't come out here!"

Toede shouted back, "The guard just took ill! Bad berries! You'd better come back." Indeed, beyond Toede on the near bank, the guard was clutching his mouth and stomach in obvious pain. Groag stood about three paces behind Toede, feeding out the chain and looking worried.

Toede saw a look of concern cross Taywin's face, and she tottered, just slightly, on the slippery log. She bellowed, "Hang on, I have to turn around! Ifs worse than it looks." She made a quarter-turn so she faced downstream, the opposite direction as Toede.

"Here, take my hand," said Toede, reaching out with one chained limb. The other, carrying the spear tightly like a dagger, was tucked behind him. Groag followed him out onto the beam a few careful paces.

"No, you're rocking the log," shouted Taywin. "Look…"

The next word was hypothetically "out," but Taywin merely screamed as she pitched backward, her large basket flying in the opposite direction and quickly disappearing in the rapids.

Toede instinctively leaped for the key. However, his hands were chained together, with a second chain leading to those connecting his feet, which were in turn chained to a similar arrangement on Groag, who did not leap forward, at least not voluntarily. The result was that the chains pulled taut, pulling Toede's arms and legs backward suddenly, and pitching him headfirst after the falling kender.

He dropped the spear, but did manage to catch the kender with a firm grip, snaring the top of her blouse between clenched teeth. This would normally have been an extremely embarrassing situation for both of them, but at the moment such proprieties were not the top priority.

Groag, as Toede had oft pointed out, was not the brightest of hobgoblins, but as he saw the chain connecting him to the falling hobgoblin play out, he immediately realized what would happen to him. With a quickness gained by his several-months' tenure as a servant, he dropped to the log and held on for dear life.

Nonetheless, Toede and Taywin splashed into the torrent and were immediately dragged back under the log and downstream. Toede still had his arms and legs pulled tight behind him, but Taywin was already grabbing him and pulling herself up the chain to shore. As soon as she had a firm grip on the chains, the submerged hobgoblin released his jaw-grip on her shirt-front.

Slowly and painfully, Taywin clambered back up the sheer rock to where Groag stood. The hobgoblin on shore shouted encouragement and put out his foot for her to grab on to as she pulled herself up the final few feet.

Taywin swept back her matted hair and spat water, trying to force air back into her lungs. "I owe you two my life," she said between pants.