Part 17 (1/2)
Empty.
Empty.
Someone moved through the camp behind him. The goblin turned around, s.h.i.+vering but feeling no pain at all from his wounds.
”Oh, G.o.ds!” cried the elf's m.u.f.fled voice. His face was white with shock, and he held a cloth to his nose and mouth with his left hand to ward against the awful stench in the air. ”You're hurt! Don't move!” The goblin dully dropped his gaze to the elf's right hand, which held a gleaming, jewel-encrusted long sword, point down, at his side.
The elf sheathed his sword in a scabbard that the goblin did not recognize.
”I found the Sword of Change with one of the guards by the horses,” the elf said hastily, coming up to kneel and check the goblin's injuries. ”The man must have won it in a dice game or something. The minotaur's just down the slope. The slaves ran off into the hills. Let's get you to a creek and get you washed off. If that kender's around anywhere, we'll get him to bandage you up. d.a.m.n, you're really hurt. How close were you to the fireball? Couldn't you get away from it?”
The goblin's shoulders slumped, and he seemed to melt into himself. The elf reached out and gently took the goblin by one arm, trying to help him up. The goblin flinched at the painful touch, but didn't get up. He sat on the ground and stared at the elf's feet without a trace of expression.
”Come on,” said the elf. ”We have what we came for, and now we must look after your wounds.” He reached down again with both hands. The goblin looked up stupidly at the elf's face. Then he looked down and saw the sword.
”Come on,” the elf urged.
The goblin stirred, reaching up to the elf with both hands as he sat back on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet. He took a sudden deep breath and lunged forward through the elf's arms. As he hurtled past the elf's side, he s.n.a.t.c.hed at the sword hilt with both hands. The sword snagged, then pulled free of its sheath.
He had the sword. HE HAD THE SWORD!
”G.o.ds, no!” shouted the elf, starting for him.
The goblin stumbled backward, nearly falling before he caught himself. The elf almost grabbed him, but the blade came up. The elf dodged and jumped back, almost a moment too late.
”Please!” pleaded the elf. ”You're crazy! You don't have any idea of what you're holding!”
The goblin stared for a moment, then laughed - a wild, mad, painful laugh that rang in the night across the hilltop.
His eyes were glistening b.a.l.l.s of blackness in his burned, filthy face, his mouth open to the black sky. His chest shook as if each breath was killing him.
”Give me the sword!” the elf shouted. ”Give it to me!”
The goblin still laughed and shook his head. He felt giddy, as if his soul were leaving his body. He seemed to hurt all over. ”It my sword,” he managed to say, though the pain in his lungs stabbed him with every word. ”It my sword! My sword!”
”You'll ruin everything, you fool!” the elf yelled. ”It's a wish sword! We can fight Istar with it! We can save ourselves and our people from Istar if we use it right! We have the chance now! Give me the sword!”
The goblin shook his head slowly. He kept the sword point facing the elf, ready to thrust in case the elf did something stupid like charge. But the goblin was feeling very tired now. It seemed like a year since he'd slept last.
The sword was very heavy, and his chest was starting to hurt more than usual. He tried to swallow, but it hurt too much. The elf held his pose, his arms reaching out to the goblin from a crouched stance. Then he slowly let his arms drop, and he stood up. ”Fine,” said the elf in a different, flat voice. ”I should have known better. I should have known.
This is the way you want it, so” - the elf raised his hands into the air - ”I have no choice.”
The elf's hands began to glow.
The goblin's mouth fell open. He raised his sword - and he couldn't remember his wish.
”ALIAKIADAM VITHOFO MILGREYA!” shouted the elf. ”SOMALITARAK CIONDIAMAL FREETRA - ”
A huge, dark shape arose from the brush behind the elf, its ma.s.sive brown bulk and long horns silhouetted against the light of the dying fire. The goblin saw the minotaur and fell back with a wild cry. He landed on his backside and knocked the wind out of his lungs. He didn't release the sword, simply held it before him.
The minotaur swung its arms in a huge, rapid arc. The black iron chain whipped around, struck the elf in the back, smacking him like a giant's hammer. The elf was thrown forward into the air, cras.h.i.+ng in a heap on the ground. The magic on his hands flared up - and died out.
The elf writhed on the ground, gasping for air. He managed to roll onto his chest and pushed himself up to face the minotaur. The elf's chest heaved, and his face twisted in grotesque pain. The goblin could see in the firelight that the back of the elf's s.h.i.+rt was stained dark and wet where the thick chain had struck him. Not daring to move or think, the goblin stared at the minotaur, which was standing upright now, facing the elf. From the minotaur's large hands dangled the long black chain, readied for another strike.
The goblin tried to remember his wish, but it wouldn't come to him. He couldn't think of it at all.
”Well,” said the minotaur in the trade tongue, as it looked at the elf, ”aren't you going to throw a spell at me?”
The elf wheezed, seeming to find it hard to breathe.
The goblin stared at the huge brown monster and forgot about breathing entirely.
”You ... can talk,” the elf gasped at last.
”Very good,” the minotaur said. It spoke lazily, but with a perfectly precise grasp of the trade tongue. ”You have learned something about your world that you did not know before. I've heard that elves value knowledge, so this information will serve you well in the afterlife.”
”Wait,” said the elf, trying to catch his breath. ”Just wait. We set out ... to get the sword ... so that we could ...
use it against ... our common foe ... Istar. We have to - ”
”No,” said the minotaur. ”We each set out to gain the sword for our own purposes.” The minotaur flicked a glance in the goblin's direction. ”I would guess that our friend the goblin merely wants power. Maybe he wants to be a G.o.d. But my need of the sword is far simpler.”
The goblin wondered if he was dreaming. The elf pulled himself up a bit, but couldn't seem to sit upright now; he grimaced as he settled down, chest against the earth again, his breath coming shallow and quickly.
”You don't appear to have heard me,” said the minotaur. The chain in its fists swung slightly.
”No! I heard!” said the elf quickly. ”Why? Why?” ”Because this is the way of the world: Only the strong deserve to rule, and the strong should use any means at their disposal to accomplish this. Because true strength is revealed in chaos, in the destruction of all borders and laws and boundaries, so that each being may challenge every other for the right to rule. Once I take that sword, I will ensure my chance to rule the world, from sea to sea and beyond, for all time, by wis.h.i.+ng for the doom of the civilized world. My brethren and I will have our freedom at last, and we will command what's left of this sad, tortured land.”
The elf stared at the minotaur. ”Madness,” he whispered.
”No more mad than your hope to destroy a part of Istar's power with this sword. You'd open the gates to chaos in your own way, but you'd leave justice and order in the world intact. Those who make the laws and govern the armies would probably find minotaurs to be as inconvenient as do the Istarians - and they might not be as willing to save our race for enslavement.”
The goblin figured that the elf's back was broken, and indeed it might be, but the elf seemed to gather some strength as he spoke next. ”If we use ... the sword together, we ... can break the hold ... Istar has on us!” he pleaded softly. ”We can start to ... throw down slavery ... and killing and prejudice everywhere, and be free! We can ... have a new world!”
”Did you not attempt to enslave me with one of your spells before we left on this quest?” asked the minotaur, raising a thick eyebrow. ”If that's a sample of how your new world is going to be, I confess I find it lacking. I threw off that spell, thanks only to my willpower - the same willpower that allowed me to survive long enough in this mad wilderness to be found by that pathetic kender.
Besides, I really have no quarrel with slavery or killing - as long as it is the minotaurs who are doing the enslaving and murdering. It is the way of the world. You elves should really come out of your forests once in a while and see what the world's all about.”
Sweat dripped from the minotaur's broad snout. ”This has gone on long enough. You have had your fun tonight.
And now I'd like some fun myself.” It stepped forward, arms and chain swinging back and around.
The elf raised a hand. ”ELEKONIA XANES,” he said, pointing his index finger in the minotaur's direction.
A pulsing stream of white light burst from the elf's finger, flashed into the minotaur's chest. The beast flinched and threw back its head, roaring in agony. Then it came on, maddened, the long chain las.h.i.+ng down to strike at the elf's head. The goblin came to his senses and rolled to get out of the way.
The elf gave a strangled cry when the chain struck him. The goblin heard the chain lash down again, and again, and he kept rolling to get away.