Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius) (32 page)

“I propose, Lord, that you and your sage accept these gifts of wood art from my lady and my people as a sign of goodwill between our people.  By happy chance, being once in possession of this fortress, our craftsmen well know the dimensions of these halls and were able to construct some minor works of craftsmanship more befitting to these halls.”

“That seems a most proper and reasonable suggestion, Lord Gillyian,”  Lord Brandon said with a glance at Tiberius.  “I accept with all my heart.”

“I should not like to think that our friends will be inconvenienced by the lack of ballast for their ship on their return voyage, however,” Tiberius interposed.  “As a gift in turn among friends, I think we might offer some first fruits of our local harvest so as to make it a pleasant voyage home for our companions.  I’ve one or two small curios we’ve recently liberated from the caves of the ogres that your lady might find amusing that I shall include as well.”

“That seems only fitting hospitality for our honored guests,”  Lord Brandon noted. 

“I’ve just had a few cases of wine from my family vineyards delivered,” Captain Walker noted.  “I trust our friends would accept a few bottles as a mark of our hospitality.”

“From the Walker Family Vineyards?”  Gillyian’s eyes lit up.  “Now, that would be most welcome.  I do hope I remember to properly record that on our ship's records.  I’m very careless about such things.”

“You’ll share a glass with us this evening over supper?  We’ve just imported the first players in many a year into the town; I think you might enjoy their performance.”

“Culture besieges Vonair from every side,” Gillyian smiled.  “We should be glad of some entertainment.”

Tiberius watched as the elves got to work.  Their craftsmen knew their business and in a few hours they managed to change his spartan living quarters into a place of beauty more befitting the abode of a wizard.  They’d brought bookcases, a bed, and a few chairs, but also a screen and a washbasin.  Everything was beautifully crafted and engraved with a forest motif.  They brought a few shade plants, too, which they assured him would thrive in the confines of his study.  Mrs. Sutherland would have some work watering the plants, but she seemed pleased to see the change in the room.  The screen helped break up the large circular room into dressing room and a study. 

Ti’s room received particular attention, but the elves had brought some other gifts: beds for the lord of the manor and the captains, and a new table and throne for the Great Hall. 

The players gave good entertainment at the dinner.  It was quite a turn in their fortunes to go from obscurity in Walsingham to a command performance before an elf ambassador in Vonair.

“They say you’re dating one of them,” Lord Gillyian laughed.  “Tell me which one so I can describe her to Salina,” he joked.  

”I hope she’s not going too be jealous of these actresses.  Everyone seems to think I’m having some sort of torrid affair with them.”

“She better understands your need of good company than you,” Gillyian answered more seriously.  “She knows she has only stolen moments with you.  I think she wishes you to have better friends among the Sons of Adam.” 

“I don’t understand her,” Tiberius said.  “You’d think she would have come for this.”

“She cannot come.  The countess forbids it.” 

“I’m beginning to not like this countess of yours.”

“I think our Lady Salina is not to fond of her either.  But the countess is a great lady among our people.  She is not capricious or cruel.  Salina can touch your heart.  But for her to come to your home and hearth, this is what cannot be.”

“Well, why not?  Can’t someone at least tell me that?  What is she doing anyway?”

“It is not my place to say.  You will know soon enough; she has foreseen this.  You must be content with her friendship for now.”

“It would be nice if some women would express a desire for a bit more than friendship,” Tiberius grumbled.  “But maybe that is just not meant to be for me.  I have my own duties after all.  The dragon is still out there.  As she said, there are many others.”       

Chapter
X

The Battle of Lychester

The goblin queen opened the note, gave it a quick read, then tossed it in disgust over her shoulder.  Her assassins had failed.  All of them failed, and failed miserably.  Her face became even uglier than usual as she scowled, thinking about the current situation.  Dallen’s little pup was becoming a real pain in the rear end.  The loss of revenue was bad enough, but that wasn’t the real problem.  Tiberius was making her look bad in front of her subjects.  Given enough time, she’d be able to deal with Tiberius.  He’d been lucky so far, but sooner or later his luck would run out and she’d have an opportunity to kill him.  If she couldn’t find a way to buy some time she’d never get that chance. 

Still frowning, she glanced over towards her scrying crystal.  There had been too many failures.  Already some blowhard was talking about the need for new leadership.  Soon they would try to kill her and put someone else in her place.  If enough of them tried, one of them might get lucky.  Well, she hadn’t become a goblin queen by being careless or lazy.  With a gesture she shut down the vision from the crystal.  She took up her staff, stormed out of her quarters and strode towards the great chamber.  It was time to take action. 

The queen still knew how to make an entrance.  The great cavern of the goblins was raised at one end with a large platform.  There was a steep slope down and then there was the assembly area.  The queen entered through the secret door in the back and walked up to the platform.  The fire pots lining the way up to the top of the platform burst alight as she stepped to the center of the stage. Standing high on the platform silhouetted by the fires, she made an impressive sight. 

“What is all this noise?” she said, raising her voice and looking down on a large number of goblins surprised by her appearance at their impromptu assembly. 

A particularly large and menacing goblin had stepped to the forefront, egged on by his supporters behind him.

“Harvest time is here, and what do we have to show for it?  Where is our tribute?  Why aren’t our larders laden with beer and beef?  I see a bunch of fat farmers and lean hungry goblins.  It’s all because you’ve failed to kill their wizard!  If you can’t lead us to victory, maybe it’s time for someone else to lead!”  the goblin said.

“And who would that be, you?  The withering curse be upon you!  Eb desruca!”

The huge goblin suddenly screamed, then dropped to his knees in agony.  As the other goblins watched in horror, his face aged before their eyes.  Wrinkles lined his face and his thick black hair changed to grey.  Every joint in his body suddenly was on fire with intense arthritic pain. 

She stepped out among them, shouting angrily and driving them all back with the force of her eyes and the threat of her staff.  “I should curse all you miserable, lazy cowards.  You seem to forget who filled up your larders with beer and beef in the first place!  It’s my magic that’s made us what we are today.  It’s my magic that rescued your pathetic little souls out of Hell and into these nice strong bodies.  Bodies we can use to enjoy the many pleasures of the flesh once more.  I perform the dark rituals and steal the bodies of the mortal babes, apparently just so I can be surrounded by lazy clods!  You want the Rangers dead, go and kill them yourselves!  They aren’t all wizards!”

She took a moment to glare at the crowd before continuing.  “Do you think I’ve been idle?  Haven’t I spent the whole year trying to kill that accursed wizard?  Who’s been giving you the cursed arrows?  Who’s been giving you subtle poisons to steal the life from his breath?  Who hired the finest assassins in the world to drive one of their blades into his breast?  I’m the only one doing anything about this cursed man, and you’ve got the temerity to come here and say I’m not doing enough?” she shouted. 

She drew out a wicked looking dagger.  “Maybe you think your queen’s lost her touch?  Her poisons don’t work?”

The goblins scattered before her but she grabbed one at random anyway and gave him a light cut with the knife.  It was just a scratch, but all the same he gave a gurgle of agony and then fell over shivering.  He was dead a moment later. 

“There!  Ask him if my poisons work!”  she said, kicking the lifeless body aside.     

The goblins all stepped back and cowered from her in fear.  She looked over them, snarling. 

“Well, something needs to be done all right.  But don’t come here sniveling and saying it’s all the queen’s fault that we have tough enemies.  It’s you lot that needs to get to work.  Any of you want to go and challenge Tiberius to a duel?  Be my guest.  No?  Then shut up and listen.” 

There was a moment of silence in the chamber. 

“That’s better.  Now listen and listen carefully.  I’ve had enough of this too.  We’re not sitting around waiting for the Rangers to pick us off one at a time any more.  Send out the word.  Gather all the goblins on this side of the river.  Get as many as you can from wherever you can.  Find the bogies; tell their chiefs the queen summons them to a council of war.  Send word to the spiders in the deep forests.  Gather whatever trolls, ogres, and giants you can.  We’re going to attack and attack in force.  I think we’ve proven subtlety is no way to deal with this wizard.  We’ll see if he can withstand all of us acting together." 

“When do we strike?” a particularly brave goblin ventured to ask.

“When?  We attack when the night is at its darkest.  When the powers of the moon and the ancient gods are flowing strongest across the land.  That is the hour when our star shall shine bright and revenge will be ours once more!  We attack at the stroke of midnight on All Hallows' Eve!”

A great cheer went up in the chamber.  The goblin queen seized on the moment.

“Revenge at last!” she cried.

The crowd picked up the chant.  “Revenge!  Revenge!  Revenge!”

A few days later, Tiberius was walking his horse down a quiet country road in the border lands. Lord Gillyian rode along beside him.  After returning the ship back to his own lands, he’d ridden out again for a bit of ‘sport’ as he called it.  So far he’d been disappointed.  It was harvest time, late October.  It should have been prime time for hunting goblins.  But here on the outlying farms it was as quiet and peaceful a scene of country life as you could ask for.  It was more like something out of an old French painting than the constant skirmishing he’d been expecting.  

Gillyian stopped and took a deep breath of the country air.  “Where on earth have the goblins gone to?  I thought you said there would be good hunting out here?”

Tiberius felt a vague disquiet, despite the peaceful, pastoral setting.  “It’s usually a busy time.  Goblins like to raid while there’s something to raid.  These farms should all be practically under siege at this time of year.” 

Gillyian looked ahead down the road to the nearest farm.  A Ranger was there but he was off his horse chatting to the farmer's comely daughter.  “That doesn’t look like much of a siege to me,” Gillyian said.  “At least he’s found something worth hunting.” 

Tiberius ignored Gillyian’s quip and rode up towards the Ranger.  The soldier suddenly came to attention as he spotted Tiberius and Lord Gillyian approaching. 

“Sir!” he said, saluting abruptly.

“At ease, soldier.  I gather everything is very quiet.”

“Yes, sir.  Quiet as can be.”

Tiberius gave another worried glance towards the forest. “It shouldn’t be this quiet.  The goblins should be raiding everywhere.  Did they swear off beer and pumpkins?”  He turned back to face the farm girl. 

“Nothing missing?  No chickens, no pigs, no kegs of beer?”

“No, M’lord,”  she said.  “It’s the best year in ages.”

“None of your neighbors talking of trouble or theft?”  Tiberius pressed.

“Well Master Tim stole an apple pie, but he’s always one for mischief.  I don’t suppose we’ll haul him off to Lord Darras for that.”

Tiberius smiled.  “No, that’s not the sort of theft we’re looking for.”

A young boy carrying some wood came by and spoke up.  “I found a bogey camp the other day.”

Tiberius snapped around to look at him.  “What’s that, you say?”

“Now, don’t bother the wizard over your bird's nest, Paul,” the farm girl chided. 

“It wasn’t a bird’s nest; they were bogies for sure.”  He pulled a bit of fur out of his pocket.  “Look at that if you don’t believe me.” 

Tiberius glanced at the boy’s trophy.  It was a thin collection of stray fur, but it looked about right for bogey fur.  “Where did you find this?”

“I was out picking berries and I came across a bogey camp in the forest nearby,” he said.

“Then why are you still alive?” the girl asked.   

“The bogies were gone.  I’m not so stupid I’d go up to a camp full of live ones.”

“Can you take us there?”  Tiberius asked.

“I think so; I’d have to ask Pa,” said the boy.

“We’ll ask him together,” Tiberius replied. 

A few minutes later they were up in the woods looking over a rather nondescript patch of earth.  Still, even an untrained eye could make out a few roughly assembled pine beds.  Gillyian circled carefully around the camp, in an ever widening circle.  Tiberius shone his truth light on a few patches of ground, which Gillyian acknowledged with a nod of appreciation. 

“The lad’s right.  There were bogies here a few days ago.  You can see the farm from here if you’ve got keen eyes.  They probably figured on nipping off a few sheep.  They weren’t here long though.  That’s what’s got me stumped.”

“How is that?”  asked Tiberius.

Gillyian pointed towards a few innocuous scratches on the ground that he called tracks.  “They headed off to the east.  Why?  They didn’t steal anything.  There’s nothing here but a few bones and bits of fur, so they didn’t leave in a hurry.  They weren’t chased off.  Why leave?” 

Tiberius was thoughtful as he leaned on his staff.  “Everything quiet where there should be lots of activity.  Then the only trail we do find heads back vaguely towards the queen’s nest.  I wonder if she could be planning something?”

“An open battle?  Not likely,” Gillyian said.  “Goblins like easy victories and they’re not especially good at siege warfare.  The queen knows she doesn’t have the strength to take a city from the Stewardship.  Unless you think they are going to have help from across the river?”

“No, not with the dwarves on the offense,” Tiberius pondered.  “Still, she might be desperate enough to try something bold.”  He stood looking towards the east for a long moment.  Then he made up his mind.  “Let’s get a little closer.” 

“You’ll be going right up to the queen’s doorstep if you go much deeper into the woods from here,”  the Ranger warned.  “Lord Brandon’s given strict orders against patrols going into the Black Hills.”

“Since when do wizards obey orders?”  Gillyian countered. 

“I did promise my friend here a bit of goblin hunting,”  Tiberius smiled.  “If you’re still up for it.” 

“Sounds dangerous, maybe even suicidal,”  Gillyian replied.  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“You’re mad, the two of you,”  the Ranger said.

“Sanity is another elusive quality in wizards,”  Gillyian said.

Tiberius just got on his horse.  “Tell the captain where we’ve gone.  We’ll be back when we know something.”