At last Death Bird belched and threw away his bone. He shot an unfriendly glance past her at Karax. “Start entertainment?”
The dwarf scowled as only dwarves could. “Just two.”
“Was agreed, two.” Death Bird spoke in goblin. He could manage fair impish when he chose, although he still had the jotunn accent he had picked up years ago from Thane Kalkor’s crew.
“But first I want to hear from Queen Inosolan,” Karax said.
The goblin shrugged his enormous shoulders. “Speak, woman. Why here?”
Inos drew a deep breath. She decided to stick to the truth as far as she could. If she tried lying and was disbelieved, then her later efforts to save Shandie would be made more difficult. “Your Majesty . . . your Excellency . . . I thought I was here by accident, but now I suspect otherwise.” She could address only one at a time, and watch only one face at a time.
“Tell where Rap!” Death Bird demanded, in no mood to listen to speeches.
“He went to Hub.”
“When?”
“Three months ago, or more.”
“Why?”
Inos turned to the dwarf. “My husband is a sorcerer.”
“I know.”
“He spoke with a God. He was given a warning to pass on to the Impire. And he himself foresaw a great disaster.” Death Bird chuckled coarsely and switched to impish. “His warning was not believed then.”
“Not you. Not this. The danger is occult, and it threatens goblins and dwarves just as much as the Impire.”
The goblin grunted skeptically. “He told me. This is old news, Inosolan.”
“But perhaps still timely. The millennium has not come yet.”
“Never mind the sorcerer,” Karax rumbled. “Stop evading the question. Why are you here?”
“There is a magic portal between my kingdom and the house at Kinvale. I came through and was captured by Death Bird’s troops.”
The Dwarf cleared his throat harshly and spat toward the fire. “That’s all? Then you are a blundering fool. Your loyalty is to the Impire. You are spies, or will be if you get the chance. We should kill the boy now, then give you and your daughter to the troops.”
Inos hoped that was merely an initial bargaining position, although dwarves were notoriously suspicious and untrusting. She turned her head to study Death Bird’s reaction. “My husband was a good friend to you once.”
“Long ago. For him I spared your town many times, when my young men wanted it for sport. What happened to Quiet Stalker?” His angular eyes glinted with cold anger.
“He tried to rape my daughter. A sorcerer’s daughter. That was unwise.”
The goblin showed his white tusks, but he did not seem to be smiling. ”No, he didn’t. Your son gave him the girl for the night to seal a treaty. So it was not rape! Your son knew she bore an occult sword, one that cannot be seen unless she wishes it to be seen. He is a cheat and a murderer.” Inos’s heart was beating much too fast now. She could feel sweat streaming down her face, and that was not all due to the heat of the fire. “He did not promise she would submit. The condition was that your nephew could subdue the girl. He failed.”
“Against an unmentioned sorcery. Perhaps we should try another man or two, without the sword?”
She faced the threat as defiantly as she could manage, clenching her fists. ”Rap is a sorcerer, as you well know. If any of us comes to harm he will hold you responsible, Death Bird. Dare you risk the vengeance of a sorcerer?”
“Yes.” The goblin scratched the bristly hairs around his mouth, peering across her at the dwarf. “General, I give you the choice. Tonight one of us will take the daughter and one the mother. Which do you want? All three of them can amuse the troops afterward.”
Karax’s permanent scowl deepened. “There is more to this than we have heard yet, I think.”
“Yes, there is,” Inos said quickly. “Bring in your entertainment, your Majesty.” For a moment the gruesome assembly seemed to swim before her eyes and she feared she would faint. “I . . . I have a surprise for you.”
If Gath was wrong, it would be she who got the nasty surprise.
Death Bird studied her for a moment, then turned to bark an order. He had known about the sword. He was not frightened of Rap. There could be only one conclusion—he had sorcerers of his own in attendance. Suddenly things began to seem a great deal clearer, and a great deal worse, were that possible. If this ravaging horde was occultly aided, then it might itself be the great evil that Rap had foreseen. Could the Gods Themselves imagine anything worse?
“And summon my son,” Inos added.
For a moment she thought the goblin would refuse, but he gave the order.
She heard laughter, then Gath came around the fire, stumbling barefoot on the rough debris, clad only in one of the goblins’ skimpy breechclouts. He looked absurdly skinny and pale pink in this company, far taller than anyone else present. His appearance had united dwarf and goblin for the first time that night. They were all laughing.
“Sit here,” Inos said, but he stepped around to stand behind her and huddled close against her furs. He might freeze there, but he probably felt safer. His hand grasped her shoulder and squeezed. She hoped that was meant as a sign of encouragement.
There was a brief disturbance beyond the fire, then two burly goblins appeared, dragging an unwilling captive between them. He seemed tall in this company, but he was not big for an imp. His hands were bound behind him, his clothes hung in tatters. Several days’ growth of beard obscured his face, matted with old blood and dirt. He was pitched forward at Death Bird’s feet. He twisted slightly to take the impact with a shoulder, but then he lay still.
Inos thought her heart would explode, it was beating so hard. This human refuse could not be the man she had expected. Two, the goblin king had said—so this might not be the one she wanted.
“Well?” Death Bird demanded. “What surprise? Will you offer to begin the sport?”
With a mouth almost too dry for speech, she said, “Lift him up.”
The goblin gestured, the prisoner was hauled to his knees.
He saw Gath first. His eyes widened in disbelief and he uttered a cry. Then he looked to Inos. She saw mortal despair flicker into unbearable hope.
They had not met since he was ten years old. She would never have recognized him. But he knew her.
She did not trust herself to rise and stand erect. She could hardly curtsey to a man on his knees, anyway. So she just smiled to assure him that she knew who he was.
“Royal cousin . . . your Excellency . . . This is his Imperial Majesty, Emshandar V, Imperor of Pandemia.”
Death Bird looked to his right and bellowed. “Long Runner!”
An elderly goblin four or five places along had been picking his teeth with a twig. He spat. “So it is.” He stayed where he was and continued poking his teeth.
Karax muttered something under his breath, but he had been exchanging glances with one of the dwarves to his left. There were at least two sorcerers present, then.
Shandie lurched to his feet, awkward in his bonds. His eyes were as wild as his hair, but he seemed to have himself under control. “We meet again, Death Bird. You had another name when last we met—and sometimes another face, also.”
The great goblin tusks were showing again. Under his tattoos, Death Bird’s cheeks were turquoise with fury. He had been caught off guard in the presence of his allies and senior deputies.
His voice came out as a dangerous low growl. “Explain, imp!”
Inos marveled at the prisoner’s courage. A moment ago he must have been steeling himself to die in long agony. Now a glimmer of a chance for life had put his shoulders back and lifted his chin. He smiled grotesquely down at his seated captors and shook his head.
“A private conference—you . . . and the general. And Queen Inos, of course. I bring news you should hear.”
“You make conditions?” The goblin was shivering, his fingers hooked like claws. He could tear the prisoner in pieces with his bare hands.
“I know you are not a fool, goblin.” Shandie glanced around at the puzzled company. Very few of them seemed to have realized what was happening. Then those dark imperious eyes came back to Death Bird and Karax. “You can’t trust everyone here.”
“By the Gods, I will skin you myself!”
“Maybe. But not just yet you won’t.” Filthy and tattered, bound and maltreated, the impish scarecrow was dominating the contest. He repeated his gruesome smile. “I am the imperor. You know that the Council of Four actually has a fifth member, who must be mundane. You know who that one is. I repeat that I bring you news you both must hear and consider carefully. Whatever you decide to do with me afterward, you must first listen to me. And you must make sure that I am telling the truth.”