Филип Этанс: The Savage Caves

“And attacked the sheep,” Regdar finished for him.

“It’s what caused all this chaos in the first place,” Jozan said. “Lidda…?”

The halfling stopped her grunting speech and looked up at Jozan.

“Is this goblin from the Cavemouth Tribe?” the priest asked.

“He is,” Lidda answered. “I think he might be Kink’s son.”

Jozan drew in a breath and stood straighter, pulling the goblin Tzrg up with him. The prisoner whimpered and kept his eyes on the floor.

“He is Kink’s son,” Lidda said, her eyes searching Jozan’s face for some idea what to do next.

“Who’s son?” asked Regdar.

“Kink,” Jozan answered, pronouncing the goblin name with some difficulty. “He was the chief of the Cavemouth Tribe. He’s dead.”

Regdar watched Lidda tell the goblin that his father was dead. The goblin sagged visibly.

“I assume that makes him chief now,” Regdar said. “We saved him from the krenshar pit. If he wants to return the favor…”

“Tell him we can help him,” the priest said. “Tell him that if he can keep the spiders in the cave, away from the village and the herds, that we’ll help him regain his tribe and get rid of the hobgoblin.”

Lidda nodded and started speaking Goblin again. The prisoner looked suspicious, unsure.

“Ask him about Naull,” Regdar said. “She was following him.”

Lidda nodded and started grunting at the goblin, who answered back quickly, making gestures that Regdar found disturbing.

“Rezrex has her,” Lidda said.

Regdar felt the blood drain from his face.

“The hobgoblin?” Jozan asked, his voice quiet and heavy.

Regdar nodded.

“He said he’d help us,” Lidda said, glancing between Regdar and Jozan. “I’m not a hundred percent sure we can trust him, but we might not have much choice. He wants us to release the… the queen.”

The goblin Tzrg ventured a series of tentative grunts Lidda’s way, and whatever he said made the halfling smile.

“They both want Rezrex dead,” Lidda told them. “Tzrg wants things to go back the way they were.”

Regdar saw the two goblins exchange a look he’d seen a few times in the past. Enemies had turned into allies in more ways than one.

Jozan ran after Lidda and the goblin named Glnk, knowing more than usual that his life was in the hands of Pelor. The goblins so far had proved alternately aggressive and cowardly, malign and pitiful, cunning and stupid. Lidda was the only one who could talk to them, and the apparent misunderstanding that had caused Tzrg to bring them to the hive spider queen instead of Naull shook Jozan’s confidence in her language skills.

It might be true that the common enemy of both of the goblin tribes and their human neighbors was the hobgoblin Rezrex, but Jozan had to admit, at least to himself, that he didn’t have any idea whether or not either Glnk or Tzrg were serious about standing up against the hobgoblin—something neither had been successful at before. The goblins were certainly more closely related to the hobgoblin on most every level than they were to three humans and a halfling. He just had to hope that the goblins believed they would return to the surface after Rezrex was dealt with and the spiders were brought back under control. It was the truth, after all, but who could guess what a goblin was thinking?

The hideous, bloated form of the hive spider queen ambled along next to him, making Jozan even less comfortable.

He recited a silent prayer to Pelor as they emerged into the tall-ceilinged chamber into which the two waterfalls emptied. The rough rock walls were covered with climbing goblins, the floor littered with a dozen more that seemed too tired or injured—or just plain scared—to start the climb back up to Cavemouth territory.

It was Glnk who started shouting at them first, then Lidda piped in. The goblins didn’t stop all at once. It took painfully long minutes of grunting back and forth, the harsh sounds echoing from the walls and often ending up lost under the hissing of the waterfalls, before they started to climb back down.

Jozan wanted to pray again but already felt as if he was pressing his luck.

Regdar kept an eye on Tzrg but tried hard to keep the contempt he felt for the goblin from coming through in his expression.

Tzrg was the chief of the Stonedeep Tribe. He should have been looking out for his people, but instead, he’d let Rezrex take over, destroy what seemed to have been a reasonable peace with the Cavemouth Tribe, and spread havoc not only through their own cold, damp, dark caves but up onto the surface world as well.

A lot of blood had been spilled because Tzrg was a weak leader.

The goblin regarded Regdar with a mixture of fear and hope—mostly fear. It was plain to the human that the goblin chief was as intimidated by him as he was by Rezrex. The fact that Tzrg’s loyalty to Rezrex had crumbled the second he was separated from the hobgoblin was something Regdar wouldn’t soon forget. Would Tzrg be as loyal to Regdar when he next encountered Rezrex?

It was a question Regdar itched to have answered. Standing back at the mouth of the side-passage while Lidda, Jozan, and the other goblin chief went off with the queen spider to rally the fleeing Cavemouth goblins, Regdar was anxious to get on with it. Naull was still out there somewhere, and it seemed as if every second that passed was a second she might not be able to spare, or a second she might not want to have to live through.

As the damnable magic light finally faded from Rezrex’s eyes, he growled in pain and anger but knew he would have his revenge.

This man named Regdar was strong—strong enough to kill both of his beloved and valuable krenshars—but he would pay for that particular insult with his blood and his female’s.

“Gorvon,” he called, blinking the purple splotches from his vision.

The hobgoblin he’d known all his life—his cousin, actually—and one of only two of his own kind left for him to command, stood awaiting instructions, himself blinking away the aftereffects of the human female’s magic light.

“Gorvon,” Rezrex grumbled, “tell me you brought some of those damn goblins with you.”

Gorvon nodded and gestured behind him. Rezrex’s darkvision cleared enough for him to see the silhouettes of more than a dozen goblins, shuffling nervously behind Gorvon. They brought some of their hive spiders with them, too, and Rezrex forced a smile.

“Good,” he said, clapping a hand firmly on Gorvon’s broad shoulder. “The rest of the little shite-eaters who ran will be punished later, eh?”

Gorvon smiled himself, revealing broken yellow teeth under his red nose. Gorvon wasn’t the smartest of Rezrex’s tight little gang, but he was a good fighter—good with a spiked chain—and he could take a hit when he needed to.

The other hobgoblin, Kadvor, was holding the human female. The sight of her made Rezrex’s smile fade into a grimace. She wasn’t much to look at: skinny, soft, and she smelled strange. Blood was trickling down her chin from her nose, which still looked too small and too pointy. He could see that Kadvor was getting curious, and Rezrex thought maybe the human female smelled different close up. After he had a chance to use her against Regdar, he didn’t care what Kadvor did with her.

“Put your dagger to her throat, Kadvor,” Rezrex commanded. “I want the man to worry—and he will, if what I hear about human mating rites is true.”

Kadvor smirked and drew his heavy, serrated dagger.

“When I give the word,” Rezrex continued, “slice her to the spine, but—” he held up a finger—“not before I say so.”

Kadvor’s smirk twisted into a disappointed grimace, but he nodded.