Chapter 12
Time passed slowly in the Great Hall, but Gondell didn't complain. Sitting around certainly beats marching, he concluded, chuckling silently. But quite why I should find any reason for mirth, considering the fix I've found myself in, but Grignasch does seem to have warmed to my plan. The Goblin guards reaction may have outwardly appeared positive yet guarded, but Gondell had seen clearly the excitement in his eyes, he could almost hear a cunning mind running at full speed, ideas and potential meshing like metal cogs and gears, I'm sure that he will find a way!
Yet despite his positive frame of mind, a realisation that he had been avoiding and ignoring struck him hard as he sat in the semi darkness. An acceptance that forced its way into his mind, strangling hope and quashing optimism. At best I'm only buying myself a few weeks, he admitted sadly, and I'm fooling myself, trusting to blind luck that an opportunity to escape will just pop up. And seriously, what are the chances of that? Forget about the future being bleak, its non-existent.
Sombre now, Gondell understood that a deluded optimism had fed his spirits since his capture beside the lake, bad things don't happen to good people, and Gondell considered himself to be good. I've never done anyone a bad turn, well, not intentionally, he stated as a dark depression began to cloud his mind, the futility of hoping now clear.
I need to think about taking matters into my own hands, he decided, fighting off the spreading malaise. Even if Grignasch finds a way for me to disappear for a few weeks, he may put me somewhere even more secure than here, and that would be just as hopeless!
He looked around the vast hall and wondered. There are two ways to look at this Gondell lad, this place is big enough to get lost in quickly if I could make a run for it, that's the positive point. But on the negative side; I'm right in the heart of their stronghold, I don't know which of these tunnels leads out, and the place is crawling with the filthy beasts.
And indeed, the hall was literally crawling with Goblins, small Goblins, huge Goblins, ugly stooping Goblins with dark skin and vicious looking teeth, the tall and almost normal looking kind that he had become so accustomed to. And those look almost handsome, he decided, spotting a group that appeared to be keeping themselves apart from the bustling throng.
I don't think they even are Goblins, he gasped as he concentrated hard, his focus intense in the gloom. Their ears are different, rounded like mine. And their teeth, they're normal, not sharp or pointed at all, he noted as one of the creatures opened his mouth to laugh. “What can they be?” he whispered softly as he ran through a mental list of all the peoples that he knew, or had heard of. Their height excluded most of the fair folk, and the are much taller than Elves, he told himself as he dredged the depths of dusty and faded memory. A mystery, he declared silently, and I'm probably very wrong, but they don't look that evil! But not that good either, he warned himself, or they wouldn't be here.
Setting the question aside he returned to his study of the Great Hall. The massive temple structure formed the centre piece, grand and imposing it stood aloof, surrounded by much smaller buildings. Actual constructed buildings, he noticed, their walls raised from blocks of shaped stone, the same stone as the temple, black and shiny, hard looking like obsidian.
A series of huge columns marched down the length of the hall in regular rows, their stone faces again perfectly smooth and polished, black as jet, reflecting the light cast by huge iron brassiers hung from their smooth faces on heavy brackets, a multitude of spluttering torches attached to the sides, surrounding mounds of glowing charcoal, the torches giving just enough light to understand where he was, but not really enough light to actually see.
“Eat,” said Grignasch, breaking into Gondell's thoughts as he thrust a wooden bowl into the Gnome's hands, “Make the most of it, this is the last hot meal you will see for a long time, we march again in one hour.”
Gondell studied the steaming stew and thanked the low light. It's probably better if I can't identify it, he half joked while pushing away the images forming in his mind, I really don't want to think about what these animals usually eat.
Lifting the crude wooden spoon he took a deep breath before tentatively tasting. Actually not bad, he thought, convincing himself that the dark lumps of meat were beef, very spicy though!
The hot sauce burned like fire, taking his breath away, but his hunger overcame the sensation as he ate rapidly, mopping up the remaining sauce with a very passable flat bread.
“Not bad.” he called as Grignasch returned with his own bowl.
“Now you know the flavour of Elf,” he chuckled, a sound that transformed into a deep belly laugh as he watched Gondell's contented expression transform into disgusted horror. “I joke with you my little mouse, that was Auroch, the giant cattle of the wide plains. But I wish there were fresh Elf available today, that would be much more to my taste.”
“Did you consider what we discussed?” Gondell asked quietly as he set his bowl aside and fought back the wave of nausea that had washed over him seconds before.
“Say nothing,” the Goblin nodded, and drew closer. “But prepare yourself. In a few days, when we near the end of the plains we will make camp before starting our crossing of the desert... it is there that I will make my move, be ready.”
Well, at least that appears to be going in my favour, thought Gondell as he watched the broad back of Grignasch disappear into the gloom.
After only an hour of steady yet relentless jogging Gondell began to realise that his short rest in the Great Hall had certainly not been sufficient as his legs began to complain bitterly, and cramps constantly threatened. Gritting his teeth he tried to run through the discomfort, but the pain of strained muscles and sinews grew more intense with each step.
“I can't keep this up!” he groaned before stumbling to his knees, tripping the Goblin that dogged his footsteps. Cursing and swearing, three more tumbled over the hapless gnome to land in a disorganised heap, blocking the tunnel.
“What's all this?” shouted Ruaq angrily as he called a halt and raced back along the line from his position at the head of the column, arriving just as the disgruntled soldiers regained their feet.
“This slug refuses to run,” snapped Grignasch, “And I'm sick of his pathetic whining.”
“So, carry him!” ordered Ruaq.
“You carry him,” Grignasch retorted defiantly, “I've told you, I'm finished with the moaning little maggot... I'll stick a blade in his guts before I'll carry him one step.”
Gondell saw the captains mind working fast, obviously weighing the confrontation rapidly developing, Does he react to such a blatant flouting of his authority? Gondell thought, You don't trust Grignasch not to follow through on his threat, the realisation clear as he saw fear and indecision bloom in the captains eyes, the next move is yours captain!
Gondell switched his attention to Grignasch as Ruaq looked around his troops, just in time to catch the smallest of winks. Turning back to his captain, Grignasch hardened his look of defiance and fingered the curved dagger that hung in its sheath at his side.
Ruaq, obviously not wishing to risk injury to his prize, snapped at the trooper that Gondell had tripped, and clearly afraid the hapless soldier sighed quietly, before scooping up the Gnome and tossing him over his shoulder.
“Wait until we get into camp!” Ruaq hissed ominously, provoking little more than a nonchalant grin from Grignasch as he drew his blade a fraction.
“I shall look forward to that... Captain.” he replied calmly.
I have to give him credit, thought Gondell as the march continued through the seemingly never ending tunnels, his ribs soon becoming as sore as his legs had been, he spotted an opportunity and grasped it quickly... but I'm sure I don't want to be around when we do get to camp, they both look very serious... and it will help me little if Grignasch gets himself killed!
Hour after dreary hour the march continued, the tunnel sometimes wide and echoing, at others it narrowed tightly, the sound of leather and plate
armour scraping the rough walls clear in the darkness. Goblin boots slapped down on hard stone marking a regular beat, perfectly in time, not a step out of place to mar the constant rhythm.
Gondell found his eyes closing, jerking awake several times, his waking mind in confusion... before reality dawned as the mists of drowsiness cleared. Will this never end? he thought, and shuffled uncomfortably as an errant fish-scale armour plate worked its way between his ribs. How many hours has it been in this beastly tube? And how many more to come? Questions that he couldn't answer, and his attempts to chat with his new guard had fallen on deaf ears and sullen silence, obviously not as affable as Grignasch, he decided, not that I really want to talk, I just want a few answers.
It may not have given Gondell any small comfort to know that he had passed through the heart of the mountain, and that dawn had arrived ushering in a new day in the world above. At that very moment the Water Sprite Shilla heaped her fury down on King Greyler's Wulver, and his would be rescuers were preparing for their ascent of the mountains. Had he know, the last shreds of hope would have died in his heart, the bulk and towering heights of ancient rock stood between himself and salvation, many miles of toil and hardship lay ahead of them before they could reach the Iron Gate that opened out onto the plains, and if their progress were not impeded, it would still take more than a day of hard slog before the Guild warriors finally stood on the wide grasslands.
Ruaq called another halt as the tunnel opened out onto another cavern. But this was not like the others, this space felt fresh to Gondell. The Great Hall had been vast, yet the air had a heat to it, and the stuffiness of air breathed by too many lungs, stale, he had described it, with the ever present tang of volcanic gases that filtered out of deep dark tunnels. I've never felt so happy to see the light, he told himself as he watched dust motes hover in a bright beam of light that stabbed through the gloom from an opening in the rock ceiling high above, pure sunlight, and suddenly he felt a compulsion to stand directly in the golden beam, to feel something clean and wholesome. That single shaft of sunlight burned away the darkness that had enveloped his heart, and his optimism bloomed afresh.
Things always do seem much worst in the dark, he told himself, and not half as bad or frightening when day finally arrives. I'm not ready to give up hope yet.
The last of the column trotted out of the tunnel and into the light, and only then did Gondell understand just how many soldiers had joined his original band of fifty, five hundred now... at least, he gasped, probably many more. Even more hopeless for the Guild, even if they have followed me, three against fifty would have proved impossible, but now! Escape is in your own hands Gondell my lad, I just have to hope I can make some opportunity when Grignasch snatches me away... I have to trust to luck.
Now assembled in the light Gondell could study the tall outsiders that had brought up the rear more clearly, if they are Goblins, then I'm a troll, he declared silently. Not as fair as Elves, yet much more refined of face than Ogres or Dwarves. A breed unknown to me. He chuckled quietly at his presumption, here I am pretending to be knowledgeable. There are probably hundreds of races that I know nothing of, reading is an excellent thing, but if the book only tells part of the story!
He sensed more than heard Grignasch as the Goblin sidled quietly behind his back whispering hoarsely, “Four days from now, be ready for my move. I will not be speaking again openly... as you already know, I have grown tired of your whimpering,' he laughed and nudged Gondell in the ribs, almost a gesture of friendship, or if not that, a conspiratorial camaraderie at the very least.
“I understand, and I will be ready, but Grignasch, answer one question for me, what manner of people are those? He gestured furtively across to the outsiders and heard Grignasch spit.
“The Man,” he hissed, “Try not to speak to them, they are not soft hearted and understanding like me.”
Man, thought Gondell as he rolled the unfamiliar word around in his mind, another race to add to my list, but despite what Grignasch says, they still don't look that evil to me, proud and aloof maybe, but not evil.
Rubbing the ache of many hours across a Goblin shoulder from his ribs, he sat quietly and watched the comings and goings around him. The cavern appeared to mark the end of the tunnels as not far ahead a huge arched entrance spilled bright light and a glimpse of green, grass or trees he couldn't be sure, he simply understood that the long trek through tubular darkness had probably come to an end. What lay ahead, he didn't know, but his heart felt more at ease to be finally leaving the Goblin tunnels.
Goblins all around him now donned leather helmets, they wouldn't offer much protection in a fight, he thought before understanding slowly dawned. Each helmet had a fine leather veil that dropped down over the eyes, a pair of small slits cut for forward vision. Well that explains a lot, he nodded to himself, that's how they cope with sunlight. As creatures of the darkness and shadows, Goblins avoided the brightness of day, their keen night eyes blinded by daylight, perhaps my understanding of them is flawed, he considered, I always thought they couldn't go out during the day, but maybe these are all a different breed, and with such eye protection, the sun would give them no pause.
His new theory appeared accurate as Ruaq gathered his forces together and staged what Gondell thought looked a very disorganised parade. All different sizes, he noted, not like any troop of soldiers I could ever imagine. Gondell held a mental picture of a smart squad of warriors, all standing erect and proud, equal in stature. What he saw assembled in ragged lines could only be described as mismatched, some short and stooped, some tall and powerful looking. Only the Man soldiers met his mental ideal, all of similar height, their bearing proud and confident, their leather uniforms matching. But I don't think they are under Ruaq's command, he guessed as they remained apart, some sneering openly at the Goblin display, if they are allied to the Goblins, I would guess that it is only for convenience, there seems to be little friendship between them.
“Are we nicely rested?” asked Ruaq, his tone mocking as he dragged Gondell to his feet, “The time has come for you to run again, the wide Plains of Akar now lie before us. Does your word of honour still hold you keeper, or must I bind you again?”
Gondell found himself nodding, the small part of him that held such pacts sacred shuddering as he calmly lied, “On my honour Captain, leave my hands free, you have my word.”
Dragged into the centre of the line, Gondell jogged into the light, his new guard at his side, Goblins ahead, and Goblins behind. Many of the five hundred had remained in the cavern, clearly on errands in different directions, but the force that marched out into a narrow green valley, Ruaq at its head, still numbered more than one hundred. Even though my situation is grim, he thought, it still feels good to be outdoors again, the sun warms my heart just as it warms my bones. Glancing aside he studied the high cliffs that marched down the valley, too steep, he decided, but even if they weren't, what is the use of escaping on their doorstep? Much better if I start looking for opportunities on the plains, besides, they are all alert now, let some hours and miles pass, wait until their guard begins to slip.