The Goblin Gate (16 page)

“Is that what happened to her leg? Did the barbarians…?”

The barbarians cut the tendons in their prisoner’s legs to keep them from escaping. The thought of that happening to a girl he knew, even slightly, sickened Jeriah. He pushed his plate aside.

“No, her leg was just broken,” Harell said. “Though I
shouldn’t say ‘just.’ It took two healer priests working in shifts to get the bone to knit even half straight, and they say it will never heal completely. They carried her up from the Southlands on a stretcher. Reward for what she’d done.”

With a badly broken leg that journey would be a nightmare. With all your family dead…Jeriah remembered what he’d felt like when Master Lazur told him Tobin was doomed, and his heart went out to the girl.

On the other hand…maybe that accounted for the hint of pity he’d seen in her eyes? She’d lost her family. Surely she’d be willing to help him save his. He just needed to figure out how to approach her.

“How did her leg get broken?” Jeriah asked. “And how did she escape, when the rest of her family didn’t? Since I wasn’t here when she arrived…”

Four more days dragged past. His friends hadn’t known many details of Mistress Koryn’s ordeal, but what they knew was bad enough. Jeriah was still looking for an excuse to approach her, but the need to do something was becoming intolerable. His temper grew so short that his friends began avoiding him. He felt as if everyone were watching him, or trying to delay him in everything he did. It was almost a relief to be in Nevin’s company—he
knew
Nevin was his enemy.

Jeriah thought about the goblins’ arrival all the time, so he should have been suspicious when he started to follow the Hierarch back to his room after Sunset Prayer and found
the hem of his tabard tangled in the thorns of a flowering shrub. But as he bent to unfasten it, there was no thought in Jeriah’s mind except care for the fragile trim…until he saw Daroo’s eyes gazing at him from the depths of the bush.

Alarm jolted through him. Jeriah was horribly aware of the crowd around them; the chatting priests and lords. The alert guards.
Of all the stupid, reckless, dangerous…

“The woods where we were before.” The voice was so soft, Jeriah couldn’t have made out the words if he hadn’t seen the child’s lips move.

He nodded, trying to control his expression, his breathing, the rapid beat of his heart. Jeriah slipped his tabard free of the thorns and followed the Hierarch without a backward glance. Every muscle tensed, expecting the outcry that would mark the demon brat’s discovery. It didn’t come.

The door swung shut behind Jeriah, cutting him off if the boy needed rescue. He’d have to trust Daroo to escape as unseen as he’d arrived—how did they
do
that?—and get to the woods himself as soon as he could.

Jeriah followed the Hierarch into his bedchamber, where the menservants were already helping him out of his ceremonial robe.

“There’s something I need to do this evening.” Jeriah pulled off his tunic, folded it rapidly into the chest, and put all his nervous energy into making his voice commanding. “You are to put the Sunlord to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes, sir, but—”

“Just do it!” He dared not let them question him, or worse, send for Nevin. By morning he’d have made up an excuse. By morning it wouldn’t matter. Daroo had returned. He could finally
do
something!

Down and down the torchlit central stairs. No uproar. No goblin children being hauled off by the sunsguard. The woods’ concealment embraced Jeriah, and some of his tension drained away. Where had he been when he’d talked to Daroo before? He hadn’t bothered to mark the spot, and now, in the darkness—

“Too-too-wheer.” It could have been a bird call, but Jeriah had never heard one like it. “Too-too-wheer.” He followed the sound, struggling blindly though the underbrush.

“Hello, hero. I understand you need our help. Again.”

It took Jeriah several moments to find Cogswhallop’s sharp face amid the shadowy foliage above him. “Yes, I do.”

Needing help embarrassed him less than it had before, perhaps because Daroo had already helped him so much. Was he becoming accustomed to goblin allies? Had Tobin felt like this?

“Well then, have you got that cursed Decree repealed? I haven’t heard about it.”

If Tobin had felt that way, then his brother had never been forced to bargain with them. “No, I haven’t.”

Cogswhallop rose as if to leave. Jeriah was almost certain the goblin was bluffing, but he added swiftly. “There’s
something else I think you’d be interested in. Something you’ll need soon. At least in the next few years.”

“And what might that be?”

“Do you know about the barbarians who are invading this land?” Jeriah asked. Cogswhallop snorted, and he hurried on, “Yes, of course you do. How do goblins get along with the barbarians?”

“No worse than your kind does, but that’s not saying much. As far as we can tell there’s no goblins in any land the barbarians control. They regard us as a delicacy, I’m told, and they’re better at catching us than your folk are.”

“So when they come, it’d be good if you had some defense against them.”

“We don’t intend to be around when they get here.” But the goblin looked interested, anyway.

“There’s an amulet their shamans make—it bestows the protection of their blood gods, or maybe it protects the wearer from the blood gods. We’ve never found a barbarian who didn’t wear one. And if you’re wearing one, they won’t hurt you.”

The goblin shrugged, setting the leaves rustling. “It’d take more than an amulet to disguise one of us as a barbarian—we’re a bit shorter, you’ll note.”

“It isn’t a matter of disguise. Some of our spies have been wearing these amulets when they’ve been discovered. As long as they’ve got the amulets, the barbarians won’t harm them. Even if they know what they are. I heard a witness talk
about it once—they followed a spy all the way back to our lines, hoping he’d lose the amulet, but they never attacked him.”

“Then why doesn’t your army wear them? Sounds like a sure way to win any battle.”

“We considered that, but they’re very unholy. The priests say that if we wore them, we’d forfeit the Bright Gods’ favor….” Jeriah suddenly remembered that the Decree of Bright Magic had been passed so the army could keep the Bright Gods’ favor, and fell silent.

“Aye. They’re powerful keen on that,” Cogswhallop drawled.

“The amulet’s magic comes from human sacrifice,” said Jeriah. “I wouldn’t want to wear…Ah, that won’t bother you, will it?”

The goblin thought about it. “It might bother us some, but it wouldn’t stop us. It’s not like we did the killing. It wouldn’t bother us at all to wear a copy—”

“You can’t fake them,” Jeriah admitted. “We did try that. Their shamans detected it instantly.”

“Humph. They’re not made of iron, are they?”

“Copper.”

“How many of these amulets are you offering, for a search of all the papers in a large guarded palace?”

“Just one, but it will protect the person who wears it from any barbarians they meet, so—”

“One? I’ve got
thousands
of folk to protect.” The goblin
started to climb back up the tree. “One is almost worthless, hero.”

“You don’t know that! One might save your life. Save lots of lives! Wait! I…I only know where one of them is.”

The goblin paused. “If your army’s been collecting them, there must be hundreds, maybe even thousands, about.”

“I suppose, but I don’t—”

“Two hundred of these amulets, and we’ll search the palace for you.”

“I couldn’t possibly get that many! I don’t—”

“You’re the one who wants our help, human.”

Cogswhallop was leaving.

“Twenty!”

The goblin turned back. “A hundred and twenty, perhaps.”

They finally settled on “as many over fifty as you can get.” Jeriah was left with a nagging feeling that it had been too easy—though it hadn’t been easy at all!

This time the goblins’ help would cost no one their home. All Jeriah had to do was find, and steal, fifty blood amulets. No, not easy, but the waiting was over. Jeriah only hoped this attempt at burglary would go better than the last one. He wasn’t incompetent. He had to start getting it right, getting it done…before Tobin’s time ran out.

“A
WHOLE HILL
? W
ITH TREES
? That’s impossible!”

Makenna couldn’t tell which of the goblins crowded around her had voiced that indignant cry—and she couldn’t blame them.

“Possible or not,” Tobin said calmly, “the stream is gone. And we’ve been ready to leave for the new site for days, so I don’t see that the why of it makes much difference. We know what to do, and where we’ll go next.”

This practical approach reassured the goblins so much that the whole lot of them burst into complaint.

“You can moan all you want,” Makenna told them. “I’m fairly peeved about it myself. But moaning won’t get us to fresh water any sooner. So if I were you, I’d stop yapping and start taking down tents!”

She put enough tartness into her voice that they departed, showing far less panic than she’d expected. That was largely because as soon as Tobin had returned, with news of another site, he’d started them packing. Learning why the stream
had stopped had shaken them, but they were already prepared to move on.

“You did a good job, making them ready to move,” she told Tobin as the last of the grumbling goblins departed.

“I didn’t have to do much,” he said. “They’d already realized there was a good chance we’d have to leave. They started gathering up their possessions as soon as I told them I’d found a new stream. They’re not children—though it took me longer than it should to realize that.”

“No, they’re not. But I have to wonder how they’ll react if this new stream of yours disappears too.”

“Why would…?” Tobin’s voice trailed into appalled silence. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t thought it through that far. But if one mountain can move…”

“…so could another. You’ve only had five minutes to think about it,” Makenna said. “I had several days. And if our enemy—If something like this could happen to one stream, then
anything
could happen to the next.”

“Enemy?” Trust him to pick up on the one word she hoped he’d miss. “We’ve seen no sign of anyone, anywhere in this world. And I’ve been looking.”

Makenna sighed. “Maybe I’ve been fighting too long. Maybe I’m seeing enemies where there’s nothing but accidents, and this new stream will run for a thousand years or more.”

“If this was an accident, it’s the strangest I ever heard of,” Tobin said. “So maybe ‘enemy’ is the right conclusion.
But at least it proves one thing.”

“What?”

“There’s plenty of magic somewhere in this world. Because I can’t think of anything else that could move a hill like that.”

Makenna snorted. “I don’t think the Hierarch, with all his priests assisting, could summon enough magic to move that hill. If that’s magic, it’s like none I’ve ever heard of.”

Baffled silence fell between them. Makenna had been in command so long, she was surprised how much the worry and depression were lightened when she could share them.

“Are you sorry you came jumping through that gate after us?” she asked softly. The Bright Gods knew he should be.

“No.” There was no hesitation in the firm reply. “Are you?”

“Since the immediate alternative was execution…no,” she said. “At least, not yet.”

“I
TOLD
HIM ONLY THE
Hierarch’s squire could give him his medicine,” Nevin snarled. “I told him several times!”

Master Lazur looked thoughtful. Master Kerratis looked angry.

Jeriah didn’t remember Nevin saying anything of the kind. But he had to admit, at least to himself, that he ignored most of Nevin’s lectures.

Nevin had been waiting outside the Hierarch’s room that morning, and had dragged Jeriah down to Master Lazur’s office all but breathing fire in his indignation. Trust Nevin to choose this morning to check on him. Jeriah didn’t mind being scolded—the bad part was still to come.

“So the Hierarch didn’t get his medicine last night,” Master Lazur said neutrally. “What do you think, Kerratis? Will this cause problems?”

“Missing one dose will do no harm, but to entrust this careless young—”

“He should be whipped!” Nevin snapped. “Whipped and
dismissed in dishonor. How could he—”

“Calm down, Nevin. Master Kerratis says missing one dose won’t harm him. Though you did right to report it, and I thank you.” Master Lazur’s tone held a dismissal. Nevin ignored it.

“Master, he isn’t fit to serve the Sunlord! He neglects his duties, he’s disrespectful, he—”

“Master Zachiros says he’s doing well. In fact—”

The warning chime sounded though the open window; ten minutes to Dawn Prayer. The priest shook his head and visibly changed his mind about what he’d intended to say. “Nevin, you may attend the Hierarch today. Jeriah’s going to be busy.”

“But—”

“If you don’t go now, he’ll be late for the Dawn Prayer—and that’s unacceptable,” said Master Lazur.

Nevin gave Jeriah a final scowl and hurried out.

“I agree with the boy,” said Master Kerratis. “Oh, not about the whipping. I don’t care if you whip him or not. But you can’t place the Hierarch’s care in…unreliable hands. Dismiss him from the palace.”

“With whom would you replace him?” the priest asked. “You know how hard it’s been to get the Sunlord to accept a new squire.”

“A squire who fails in essential duties does no one any good,” the healer replied. “There’s bound to be someone else he’ll accept. If we introduced them very gradually, I
think that would turn the trick. We just tried to move too swiftly before.”

“Hmm. If you’re right about that…”

If they sent Jeriah away now, Tobin would die.

“Masters, I swear it won’t happen again. I thought the servants would take care of his medicine.”

Master Kerratis ignored him. “I know young Rovanscourt’s reputation, Lazur. How could you entrust him with—”

“You make too much of it.” Master Lazur’s voice was firm. “I’ll handle the matter.”

The healer priest glared at Jeriah. “I think you should question him under a truth spell.”

Jeriah’s heart lurched. If they put a truth spell on him, they’d learn everything!

“But…but that’s for criminals! I’m not a liar. Though if you feel you must persist in this insult, over nothing more than a misunderstanding, I will submit.” Jeriah tried to look haughty and offended, praying from the bottom of his soul that they wouldn’t insist.

Master Lazur finally stirred. “No, this is a trivial matter when all’s said. We shouldn’t overreact.”

Master Kerratis shut his mouth with a snap. “Then I’ll stop wasting both our time. Good day.” He glared at Jeriah again and departed.

Jeriah relaxed slightly.

“It’s not that trivial,” Master Lazur told him. “But Master Zachiros says you’re doing well, for the most part. Have there
been any other problems?”

“No, master. Though it’s more complicated than…well, it’s complicated.”

“So except for last night I have no complaint of you.” The priest’s expression remained bland, but his eyes were intent. Jeriah’s nerves tightened. He’d relaxed too soon.

“Where were you last night?”

“I was meeting someone, master. I hope you’ll forgive me but I can’t, in honor, give her name. It wasn’t…We only talked, but…” Jeriah wished he could blush but feared his face was white instead. If Master Lazur changed his mind about that truth spell…

“But you’ve only been here…”

The priest’s eyes swept over Jeriah and his expression changed from surprise to resignation. Jeriah let his breath trickle out, careful not to sigh with relief. There were advantages to inheriting his mother’s looks.

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with your duties, your personal life is none of my business,” Master Lazur said. “But I’d advise you…Oh, why bother? Jeriah, you were given this job in spite of your past because it was convenient for me. If you fail in your duties again, we’ll dismiss you. Understand?”

Jeriah nodded—he didn’t dare speak.

“After Dawn Prayer you’ll apologize to the Hierarch. And then”—the priest’s lips twitched—“Master Goserian will give you a little work.”

“I’m sorry, Sunlord, that I failed to attend you. I hope you’ll forgive me.” Jeriah studied the old man’s face with some concern—he really hadn’t intended to neglect him—but the Hierarch looked the same as always.

“All right.” The old man patted his arm. “All right, Jeriah.”

Jeriah! The Hierarch had learned his name. Maybe now he wouldn’t have to introduce himself every morning.

“Thank you, my lord.”

After his apology Jeriah reported to Master Goserian, who gave him a bucket of soapy water and a scrub brush and showed him the temple floor.

“Generally I assign eight servants to clean this. It takes them less than an hour. It will take you longer.”

Was there laughter in that pompous voice?

“But there are advantages to that,” Master Goserian continued. “By the time you get down the steps to the second level, the petitions should be over.”

Jeriah eyed the stairs falling gracefully down the hill. Four flights. They grew wider as they descended. “The stairs too?”

“The steps that lead to the temple are part of the temple,” Master Goserian confirmed. “I’ll assign someone to bring you fresh buckets. If you had to fetch water yourself, you’d still be scrubbing when the Sunset Prayer was called.”

He strolled away. Jeriah gazed at the vast expanse of marble and winced.

The stone came clean fairly easily, but there was a lot of it. Jeriah’s rolled-up sleeves kept falling down and soon became wet. The knees of his britches were soaked. The maidservant who brought him fresh buckets smiled sympathetically…and brought more buckets. Jeriah smiled back—and waited till she was out of earshot to swear.

By midday he’d started on the stairs, and his good manners paid off; the girl brought him a meal and sat on the step beside him while he ate. Jeriah listened politely to her chatter, and ignored the flirtatious smiles for several minutes before he recognized an opportunity. Had she seen many of the palace treasures? When she dusted, for instance?

It turned out she’d cleaned most large objects in the palace, but if she’d seen a pile…chest?…sack?…of blood god amulets, she didn’t mention it.

Jeriah returned to his scrubbing in a better mood. He’d known worse punishment for past pranks, it was just…there was something humiliating in being punished like a child. The legendary knights who had to neglect their duties to perform great deeds were praised, not set to scrubbing the floor. But talking to the girl had given him some ideas. Mistress Koryn might know where the amulets were kept. Jeriah’s sudden shiver had nothing to do with his wet clothes. Mistress Koryn would also remember Jeriah’s interest if anyone noticed the amulets were gone. Was there anyone
else…? He had to find them as soon as he could. The goblins would need time to search for the spell notes, and in less than a week Tobin would began to sicken.

The hours passed more quickly while he planned, but Jeriah was tired by the time he neared the bottom of the stairs.

“I see you’ve found a task that suits your capabilities.”

Nevin stood three steps above Jeriah, and his malicious grin spoke volumes.

He’s only trying to provoke you. Don’t…
Jeriah couldn’t resist. “You, on the other hand, don’t seem to have anything to do. Pity they’ve got enough stable muckers.”

Nevin smirked. “You should know—I understand you’ve performed that task more than once.”

Jeriah’s lips tightened, but this time he managed to keep his mouth shut. If his reputation as a prankster made Nevin and Master Lazur underestimate him, then thank the Bright Gods for it. “Don’t you have anything to do, Sir Nevin?”

“As a matter of fact I need to pack. I’ll be doing some traveling soon.”

He wants you to ask where and why, and be envious.
“How nice for…” Jeriah’s brain finally awoke, and Nevin’s pricking became irrelevant. “Where are you going?”
And for how long, and is Master Lazur going with you?

“The western coast. I understand it’s beautiful this time of year.”

“It is. My mother comes from that area.”

Could this be some part of her scheme? Jeriah didn’t see how, but if he was suspicious, what would Master Lazur be thinking?

A frown was forming on Nevin’s brow—Jeriah had been silent too long. “It’s a pity I have more important things to do than take pleasure jaunts. I could show you around.”

“It’s not entirely for pleasure. There’s some rather odd unrest there. People are asking why we have to relocate instead of fighting the barbarians. It’s probably nothing, but Master Lazur thinks we should kill it before it grows. He’s taking me to be his eyes and ears when he’s not present.”

Jeriah’s heart leapt. Whatever his mother was up to, she’d accomplished one thing—Master Lazur was leaving!

“I’m sure you’ll make an excellent spy,” Jeriah told him. “Eavesdropping, lying, sneaking around. You’ll have a wonderful time.”

Nevin’s face darkened. “And when I get back, I’ll check to be sure you’ve managed to perform your simple duties properly.”

He turned to go. No time for subtlety.

“I’ll be counting the days. When do you leave?”

For a moment Jeriah thought he wouldn’t get an answer, but Nevin had to have the last word. “Day after tomorrow. Enjoy your afternoon.” He gestured at the remaining steps and strolled off, leaving Jeriah torn between fear for his mother and quivering excitement. There was no way to know how long they’d be gone, but in their absence…

Three hours past midday Jeriah finished scrubbing. He felt as sore as if he had been beaten as he clambered wetly to his feet and stumbled off to the baths. He might not know where the barbarian amulets were, but he knew who to ask—and he’d finally figured out an excuse that wouldn’t rouse her suspicions.

Mistress Koryn was easy to find. Today she sat at a library table, with a small, old-looking book in front of her and a sheaf of notes to one side. Ink smudged both her right hand and her nose, and her gown was a drab blue that was even less flattering than the last two.

Jeriah knew better than to wait for her to notice him. And she seemed the kind of girl who wouldn’t mind if he went straight to the point.

“Mistress Koryn, I need information about the barbarians. As much as I can get. They say you’re the person to ask.”

She jumped when he spoke, and her extraordinary eyes studied him for a long moment before she replied.

“And you’re suddenly taken with a burning desire to learn about the barbarians because…?”

“Because I want to get my brother back.” Jeriah met her gaze steadily. “If I could figure out some better way to fight the barbarians, maybe I could make the relocation unnecessary. And if I did that, I think I could persuade Master Lazur to open a gate for me. He’d owe me that much.”

“And you plan to accomplish all this in what…less than a month?” Koryn asked.

“He could become ill in less than a week.” Fear tightened Jeriah’s voice as he spoke. “He might even be ill now. He’ll live for several more weeks, but that’s all. Please. My brother is going to die!”

She’d lost her whole family—she should have melted with sympathy. Any other girl would have. Koryn eyed him suspiciously for a long moment. “I guess it depends on what you want to know.”

It was much too soon for Jeriah to blurt out that he wanted to know about the barbarian amulets.

“I understand why getting everyone behind the great wall would help so much, as a matter of tactics.” Jeriah pointed to a map of the Realm of the Seven Bright Gods that had been painted on a high wall, above the level where shelves were practical.

The great southern desert, which the barbarians had to cross in order to attack the Realm, was a yellow blur at the bottom, flowing into a wide crescent of golden green marked with roads and towns. The Southlands. Moving up the map, the Realm broadened even more through the green Midlands, rimmed by rocky hills to the west and the scattered lakes and marshes of the wetlands to the east. In between lay the finest farmland known to man. The dark green forest of the north began just after the Realm started to narrow abruptly, like the neck of an off-center hourglass.

Looking at a map like this made it perfectly clear why that narrow neck of land that joined the Realm to the woodlands beyond the wall was the perfect point of defense—even without the great stone wall that spanned it. Still…

“This map doesn’t show all of the woodlands,” Jeriah said. “But they’re smaller than the rest of the Realm, and uprooting all those trees would be a farmer’s nightmare. No one wants to go. Half the Realm’s population will probably just sit on their own land, no matter what the Hierarch says, until it’s too late. There’s got to be a way to stop them in the Southlands. That’s what you’re trying to find, isn’t it?”

“If I find a way, I’ll certainly let you know,” Koryn said dryly. “But there’s no place short of the wall where the border is less than hundreds of miles across. And now that they’ve got bases in the Southlands, bases they can occupy year-round…I’m sorry about your brother. I really am. But, Jeriah, there is no way to stop the barbarians short of the wall. The border there narrows to less than thirty miles, and the wall is—”

“I’ve seen it,” Jeriah told her. “And that wall will need a lot of repairs to make it into a solid barrier. We’ve held the barbarians on the southern border for years now. I know their army has been growing, but why not just bring in more of our own men to match them?”