“Perhaps. And you say she was with humans, Elder?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see another female with them? One of… unusual appearance?”
“No. But we did not linger too long near those ships. You see, we made the same error as we did with you today.” A troubled look came to his face. “We thought it was him.”
“Who?”
“Gleaton-Rouk. A goblin with command of dark magic, and a nature utterly ruthless. More than once we’ve suffered his wrath.”
“That’s who the tribute was for?”
“Yes. We’re traders, not fighters. We make things, like this jewellery you admired. There are silver seams here and we mine them. The goblins have no such skills, or the patience to learn them. They only take. Their talents lie in cruelty and destruction, and we pay tribute to keep them from our door.”
“Yeah, we’ve encountered goblins before,” Coilla said.
“With respect,” the elf told her, “I think even the formidable orcs would find Gleaton-Rouk a daunting foe.”
“So when you saw our ship you thought it was him,” Stryke reasoned.
“Yes. That and the fact that he’s due.”
There was a commotion from the crowd of elves at the rear of the beach. They were pointing out to sea.
Three black sails had appeared on the horizon.
7
There was something close to panic on the elves’ island. But the populace wasn’t disappearing into the jungle; they were running down the beach towards their boats.
“What’s happening?” Stryke said as they streamed past.
“We must meet them with the tribute!” Mallas Sahro replied.
“Or what?”
The Elder seemed not to understand. “I thought I made that clear.”
“This Gleaton-Rouk’s going to cut up rough.”
“To say the least!” The elf was agitated. “He’ll ruin our crops, burn our homes, put us to the sword!”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Because he’s threatened to, right?”
“Yes. And he’s punished us in the past. Several of my clan have been killed by him.”
“That’s tough, but it’s a just few. He hasn’t killed you all or burnt you out.”
“No, because we pay the tribute!”
“And if you didn’t, or offered less, what would he do?”
Mallas Sahro was at a loss for an answer. “As I said, he would kill us and…”
“Wrong,” Stryke said. “If you were wiped out he’d have no tribute, no silver. Why should he do that? Can’t you see what’s going on here? He kills a few to keep you in line. The rest’s bluster.”
The Elder threw up his hands. “But what else can we do?”
“Ever thought of defying him?”
“We’re not warriors!”
“We are.”
“This ain’t our affair, Stryke,” Haskeer said.
“I reckon it could be. Remember what Spurral here said earlier, about them maybe being out for revenge on account of what we did to those goblin slavers. More I think about it, the more sense it makes.”
“I thought you wanted to waste no more time.”
“My hunch is we won’t have the choice. And you were right, Coilla, about leading them to where we’re going. We don’t want that.”
Haskeer snorted, “Oh come on, Stryke.”
“You’re not up for a fight, Haskeer? You? ”
“Well…”
“Please,” Mallas Sahro implored, “I must go!”
Stryke grabbed his arm. “You could put a stop to this now.”
“It’s easy for you to say. We have to live here.”
“Living in fear isn’t living.”
“And we’re not keen on tyrants,” Coilla added, warming to the prospect.
“You’re asking me to put my folk at risk,” the elf protested.
“I’m asking you to free them. With our help.”
“Those ships are moving at a hell of a lick,” Spurral observed.
They were much nearer than they should have been since the band last looked. Their black sails billowed fit to split.
“It’s magic,” the Elder said. “I told you he commanded powerful sorcery. Even the wind obeys him.”
“Don’t you elves have magic too?” Coilla asked.
“Yes, but on a different scale. Ours is healing, benign, protective.”
“So use it to defend your clan and leave the fighting to us.”
“I don’t know…” His eyes were darting to the shoreline. Most of the elves were with their boats now, obviously anxious, waiting for his order to set off.
“Does Gleaton-Rouk normally come in three ships?” Stryke wondered.
“What?” The Elder dragged his gaze back to him. “Oh. Er, no. Usually just one. We thought yesterday was an exception, when we saw the female of your kind. Then today, when you-”
“Right. I’ve a hunch they’ve come in force because of us.”
“You?”
“They feel they owe us a debt. Of blood. Well, you going to make a stand?”
“You can’t fight him. He has exceptional skills.”
Stryke slapped his sheathed sword. “So do we.”
“I’m sorry. I appreciate what you’re saying, but I can’t take the risk. I have to think of my clan.” Head low, as though in shame, he hurried off accompanied by his keepers.
“You gave it your best shot,” Haskeer said. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I meant it when I said we’ve no choice. You think they’re just going to let us sail away?”
“Not to mention that we can’t leave these elves at the goblins’ mercy,” Coilla added.
“What’s more important to you, Stryke,” Haskeer rumbled, “these elves or Thirzarr?”
“I’d knock you down for that if I didn’t know you said it because you’re an idiot. I figure it was Thirzarr the elves saw yesterday. If Jennesta’s kept her alive this long there’s a chance she’ll survive longer. But before we can find out we have to get through this.”
Haskeer had nothing else to say.
They watched as the Elder’s boat went out, surrounded by his clan’s many canoes. The trio of goblin ships was near enough that figures could be seen on their decks.
“So what do we do?” Jup said.
“If I’m wrong,” Stryke told him, “the tribute gets handed over and the goblins leave. If I’m right, then we do what we’re best at.”
They looked on as the goblin ships drew nearer and the elves’ boats headed for them. Then things took an unexpected turn. Manoeuvring nimbly, despite the narrowness of the channel, one of the ships changed course.
“Should they be doing that?” Spurral said.
