The Savage Caves

15

If Naull had stopped running and thought about what she was doing, where she was, and where she was going, she might have gone mad. That being the case, she just kept running.

She had a goblin torch in her right hand and her staff in her left hand. The light was bright enough so that if she kept her eyes on the uneven stone floor she could run, though not terribly fast. The tunnel was narrow, and the torch lit the whole thing: walls, ceiling, and floor.

She had gone maybe forty-five or fifty feet down the tunnel when she heard a low, grinding, almost crumbling sound echoing up from the rock beneath her feet. The vibration that accompanied it made butterflies dance in her stomach, but again, she didn’t stop to try to find out what it was.

The tunnel made a gradual turn to her right, so she wasn’t able to see the goblin she was running after—running after, not chasing. She was hoping that after rescuing it from the hobgoblin’s bloody fighting pit the goblin might help them find their way out of the caves. The rapid staccato rhythm of the little humanoid’s footsteps echoed clearly ahead of her, though, and having come down this tunnel already, she knew she had a decent chance of catching up to it. If she couldn’t see the goblin by the time they came out into the larger cave, she doubted she’d ever find it again. Her plan, in that case, would be to go back and hope that Regdar was either close behind her or still alive somewhere back in the goblin community.

She almost lost her footing but managed a more or less controlled slide when the passage sloped steeply downward. She was running again when it leveled off, then it began to slope down again, though this time much more gradually. This helped her to pick up speed. She knew how small the goblin was and could hear by its footsteps that it was running in a flurry of short, fast strides. Naull opened up her own stride, hoping her much longer legs would help her to catch up.

Finally she saw the goblin ahead of her, the stone club gripped in its right hand. It was breathing heavily from the run and was having some trouble making it up a fairly easy slope in the tunnel. Naull, not sure what she would say or do when she did catch up with the goblin, slowed her pace and hung back just enough to keep the humanoid in sight.

The goblin clambered up the spidersilk ladder that led back toward the cages. Naull let it get to the top before she tossed her torch to the floor, tucked her staff through one of her pouch straps, grabbed the ladder, and followed the goblin up.

The torches still burning in the larger cave gave off only a dim, flickering light, but it was enough for Naull to see where she was going. The goblin ran straight for the first cage, maybe thirty feet from where the side-passage emptied out into the larger cave. The goblins inside all cowered back away from the goblin that had come rushing out of the darkness at them, but by the time Naull came out into the area around the cages, she could see them recognize their comrade. They pressed against the stone cage and started clawing at the spidersilk holding the thing shut.

Naull ran for the farther cage—the first one she and Regdar had seen—drawing a crossbow bolt as she did. The caged goblins drew away from her, practically crawling over each other to get as far away from her as possible. Naull tried not to look at them. She didn’t like the feeling of anyone being so afraid of her. The little wretches, obviously starved and dying, beaten and desperate, were too sad to look at.

She started to work at the spidersilk with the sharp iron tip of the crossbow bolt when her attention was drawn back to the other cage by some sort of commotion.

The freed goblin was back-stepping and swinging furiously down with its stone club. Naull gasped when she saw the spider charging at the goblin, its sharp mandibles clacking together, the pointed tips of its segmented legs clicking across the cave floor.

Naull grabbed for the crossbow hanging at her back just as the goblin fell. She put the bolt she had in her hand in place on the bow and cocked it while the goblin rolled to one side then the other, trying to avoid the spider’s continuous attempts to bite it. When she let fly the bolt, the goblin drew back its club for a blow that Naull was sure would come seconds after the spider had locked its jaws into the little humanoid’s neck.

The crossbow bolt drove itself into the spider, ruining at least three of its gleaming black eyes on the way in. The force of it made the quivering, dying creature slide back away from the goblin a good yard or two.

The goblin leaned up, spinning, to look at Naull, its wide mouth open, and its bloodshot eyes bulging in surprise. Naull smiled, not sure what else to do, but the goblin just stared at her. The prisoners were staring too, all in gaping, wide-eyed shock.

Naull grabbed two more crossbow bolts, and the goblin still sitting on the floor threw up its hands, the look of surprise changing immediately to a look of horror. The goblin thought she was going to shoot it, but instead Naull tossed one of the bolts to the humanoid. It clattered to a stop on the floor next to the goblin, and Naull went back to work on the spidersilk with the other. She saw the goblin grab the crossbow bolt and follow suit, to the accompaniment of grunts and squeals from the prisoners.

Soon enough, the spidersilk gave way, and Naull was able to swing open the cage. The goblins inside paused, and Naull looked over at the goblin she’d followed back there. That cage few open as well, and the prisoners inside flooded out. Without a moment’s thought or hesitation, the goblin prisoners ran, some stumbling and falling only to be trampled by their comrades in a mass exodus up the gradual incline of the big cave.

Naull was pushed aside by the goblins flooding out of the cage she’d opened. The little cowards fell all over each other to follow their fellows up and out of the deeper cave. Naull had expected them to fight. She had expected…

She didn’t know.

Regdar was out of time.

Naull had run after the fleeing goblin they’d come to rescue, and the longer she was running away from him, the harder it would be for him to find her—and he had no torch.

The krenshar was out of the pit, staring at Regdar with piercing green eyes brimming with the animalistic hunger of the wild predator. The hobgoblin Rezrex was laughing and barking orders at goblins from across the fighting pit. Regdar knew it was only a matter of time before Rezrex was able to rally his cowardly troops, and Regdar would be overwhelmed by goblins.

An odd mixture of desperation and focus made the muscles in Regdar’s huge arms bunch. His fingers cracked as they tightened around the rough leather grip of his heavy greatsword.

The krenshar growled low in that catlike way it had and stepped closer, head low, ready to pounce. Regdar chopped down at the thing, but the krenshar dodged to the left with agility the human couldn’t match. The greatsword smashed into the rock floor, sending shards of light brown flowstone spinning through the air all around him. The sound of it echoed loudly for a long time in the huge chamber. The krenshar roared and backed away from the noise, and Regdar could see, from the corner of his eye, Rezrex back away too. The hobgoblin’s eyes narrowed, and Regdar was pleased to see the look of fear on the big humanoid’s face.

The krenshar, unfortunately, was not quite as put off. The thing snapped at Regdar, turning its head to one side and locking its jaws onto the fighter’s right leg, just below his knee.

Regdar grunted when the beast’s teeth popped through the steel jambeau and punctured his skin, driving deeply into his rock-hard calf muscle. Reacting as much to the pain as to the threat of any worse injury when the krenshar inevitably began to shake its head and tear his leg apart, Regdar brought his greatsword down in another crushing blow. The krenshar twitched, and Regdar knew it was about to start shaking him. The sword shattered the krenshar’s spine as it passed almost halfway through the creature’s lithe, catlike body.

The jaws came off Regdar’s leg so fast and so hard-part of violent spasms that rippled through the monster’s fast-dying body—that several fangs were left behind, hanging in the ragged holes in Regdar’s armor.

Regdar roared in pain and relief and stepped forward next to the dead krenshar, keeping as much weight on his left leg as he could. He could feel his wounded right leg stiffening up, and when he saw the hobgoblin withdrawing into the darkness behind the flowstone curtain, Regdar gave up the thought of confronting Rezrex.

Limping, he made his way to the spidersilk ladder that ran up to the platform and the side-passage beyond. It wasn’t easy negotiating the spidersilk, but he finally rolled onto the platform and struggled to his feet.

He took only two steps into the dark tunnel when his leg collapsed. Gritting his teeth to hold back a scream, Regdar knew he would have to tend to his wounds—and light a torch—before he could follow Naull. He only hoped she was alive and bringing the other goblin prisoners back with her to help.

Naull wasn’t sure if she should help the goblin open the third cage or not, so she stood back, near one rough stone wall, and watched. It took the goblin a few long minutes to saw through the spidersilk, breaking the crossbow bolt in the process, but the last group of prisoners were freed in due course.

The goblin shouted at them in their primitive tongue, tried to grab them as they rushed past him, but they didn’t hesitate to follow their comrades up the cave and away. Some of them spared their savior a glance, some even, in Naull’s estimation, looked guilty for not stopping, but every last one of them ran for it.

The goblin stomped his feet, spittle shooting from his frustrated grimace. Naull stepped a few strides toward him and said, “It’s all right.”

The goblin stopped and looked up at her, and Naull forced a smile.

“Do you understand me?” she asked, the cascade of echoes that followed making it hard for her to even understand herself.

The goblin looked at her vacantly, making it plain that he didn’t understand her. He did look like he was about to speak, though, when the unmistakable sound of running feet echoed up the huge cave. Naull was no expert, but even she knew that there was a group, maybe a big group, of goblins on their way, and on their way fast.

About thirty feet into the narrow tunnel, the passage widened on one side to form a sort of niche. Regdar had to feel his way along the wall with his right hand until he found the space and managed to duck inside, scraping the top of his already battered helm along the low ceiling.

Working to get his breathing under control, Regdar fished in his backpack, and found a torch and his flint and steel. When he had the torch lit, he stopped, his greatsword in his right hand, and listened. There were sounds echoing in the cool air around him, but the sounds were all coming from far away. He didn’t think any of the goblins had braved the narrow confines of the passage to come after him.

Hoping that would hold true for a while longer—and likewise hoping that Naull was safe wherever she was—he pulled off the fang-punctured jambeau from his right leg. The armor piece came off his calf, and the few fangs the krenshar left behind clattered to the stone floor.

Regdar set his jaw against the pain and examined the wounds. They weren’t too deep, but they were bleeding freely. He pulled an old sack out of his backpack and tore it into strips. It wasn’t the best material—or the cleanest—for bandages, but it would have to do.

He wrapped his calf, but not too tight, then unstrapped the cuisse from the front of his right thigh. The dagger wound was worse—both bigger and deeper—and Regdar used all the rest of the sack tying the wound closed. It continued to seep blood, and Regdar knew he would have to find Jozan if he had any hope of it healing properly.

Knowing he wouldn’t find Jozan—or Naull—sitting in the little niche, Regdar put the damaged armor pieces back into place, took up his torch, and stood. The pain was bearable, and, limping, Regdar set off down the narrow passage.