SONG OF POWER

Chapter XV: The Crusty Cat

SONG OF POWER

CHAPTER XV:  THE CRUSTY CAT

Goblin Hill lorded over their approach, its wooden walls snarling with the ferocity of a guard dog.  Like many settlements staked out on the Tearfall Plains, the small town was the charge of a minor noble and operated as an independent realm with pompous self-importance.  Goblin Hill was one of the more prominent settlements in the vast Plains due to its location alone; atop a high hill, just north of Harrow Pass, with the mild-mannered Serpent River running along its base.  In days long gone and ill-remembered, trade existed between Goblin Hill and Blackdale through Harrow Pass, but the giants of Jagd put a heavy tax on such commerce, and it became little more than dust on the road.

Local fishermen cast their nets into the broad, bountiful water of the Serpent River.  The land directly south of Goblin Hill was mostly how nature had created it, save for the hard-packed road that led out of Harrow Pass.  Ninthalsaya observed that theirs were the first feet to follow it for quite a long time.  Not long after she announced this the group reached the hill, where they were intercepted by a trio of mounted militia.

“Ho there, and be still! Who are you then, that hie from Harrow Pass?” the lead militiaman asked, leveling his spear to point at Cipher.  The young baronet tried to look important.

“I am Cipher Lostheart, Baronet of Cyen, Ambassador of the White King of Drakkenavia.  These are my wives.  And this is my herald,” Cipher said imperiously, an act the youth had rehearsed with Tyroce.

“Milord,” the spearman replied simply, raising his weapon into a non-threatening posture.  The soldier’s demeanor changed immediately. The lead guard dismounted, then approached Cipher and held out his hand.  Cipher grasped the man’s forearm and they shook.

“I am Greguska, Captain of the Goblin Hill militia.  Ladies,” Greguska saluted the womenfolk before returning his attention to Cipher.  “How is it then that you come through Harrow Pass?”

“If you would allow me, Baronet,” Donk interrupted, bowing apologetically for interrupting.  Cipher inclined his head, and the ogre continued, “Honorable Captain, I recommended the shortcut through the Pass.  Although I no longer live among my race, my presence assured the Baronet a safe and swift alternative to traveling around twice-cursed Jagd [spit].  Of course, we gave some hobgoblins a bit of trouble, but I shall sing of my Lord’s heroism later,” Donk said boastfully, and Ninthalsaya wondered if Donk were more proud of her husband’s heroism or of his ability to sing of it.  She found herself daydreaming about Cipher, about the way his skin felt against hers.  She shook her head as if casting off a nightmare—she found these new, erotic thoughts disconcerting.

“Well, that would be very well received, despite its source.  No offense, Baronet; the people of Goblin Hill are an inward folk, and care little for…for…for sidhe and ogres.  Not to worry, not to worry,” Greguska said hastily, holding up his hands to forestall a tongue-lashing, “when they’re told that you are a Baronet from Drakkenavia, and these are wives and your man, they’ll…where in the green Hell did those gnomes come from?”

“That makes little sense,” Cipher replied, puzzled.

“You oaf, what are you at?” Tyroce growled, leaning forward in her seat.  Cipher shot her a warning glance for speaking out of turn, and she couldn’t help but smile proudly as she hung her head in a show of shame.  He’s so natural in his new role.

“Look!” Rowena exclaimed, pointing ahead on the road.  There stood two gnomes; one dressed in yellow and black, the other in blue and green.  Cipher instantly recognized the former as the alchemist Jake.