Nine Goblins(48)
“No, no. I mean civilians.”
“Oh, them.”
“Well…Sings-to-Trees thinks the war is bad. And there’s probably more like him out there. Maybe not so many elves, but what about the humans? They’re doing most of the fighting and they’re probably getting tired of it.”
“The great grim gods know that I am.” Nessilka glanced at their guard. He had not moved an inch in the last two hours. She had to watch for a minute to make sure he was blinking.
“So…” said Murray. “Say you’ve got people getting tired of the war. Then you get a bunch of goblins showing up and wiping out a whole human village. Do you think those people are still going to be tired of it?”
Nessilka scowled. “That’s politics, Murray.”
“Well, yeah. Lotta people die of politics.”
She was suddenly very glad that she hadn’t told the elf captain about the rest of the regiment, or about Sings-to-Trees.
They sat in the sheep pasture while the shadows grew so long that they joined up to each other and became evening.
“Hey, Murray?”
“Yes, Sarge?”
“Maybe they’ll figure out we were right, and they’ll give us medals.”
“Very funny, Sarge.”
Torches were lit outside the tent, and someone started a campfire. When Nessilka looked back to their guard, she saw his pupils dilated as wide as a cat’s in the dark. It was an unsettling look. Goblin eyes didn’t do that.
She engaged in a few moments of recreational xenophobia, which didn’t help at all but did pass the time.
Someone came toward them with a torch. Nessilka was hoping for food, but it was Captain Finchbones again.
He did not crouch down this time, but said without preamble, “The human girl says that you and a wizard killed everyone in the village.”
Nessilka shook her head. “No,” she said.
Finchbones narrowed his eyes. “Where is this wizard?”
“Not us. Girl is wizard.”
What’s the point? They’re not going to believe a couple of goblins. If Murray’s right, it doesn’t even matter if they do or not.
“Ask the old man,” said Murray suddenly.
It took Nessilka a minute to remember what he was talking about—it had been that long a day—and then she sat up. “Yes! Old man! Old man alive, in house. Old man saw us. Gave him water.”
And he may decide we’re responsible. Or he may be dead. But I suppose it’s better than nothing. At least he can testify we didn’t kill him when we had the chance.
Murray nodded. “We told the wizard girl he was alive. She didn’t like that.”
Finchbones shook his head slowly. “It’s very likely you are lying,” he said, “but for the life of me, I can’t figure out why you’d lie about this. It’s easily checked, anyway.”
He turned to the elf with the torch and issued a few short commands in Elvish. The man nodded and hurried away.
This left them in relative darkness. The elven captain’s eyes dilated in the same fashion as the guard’s. Nessilka hadn’t noticed that effect with Sings-to-Trees, but she supposed she hadn’t been paying attention.
What was Sings thinking, now that they hadn’t shown up? Would Algol wait until Thumper had healed, then take the group of them to Goblinhome? They’d practically walk by the elven camp if they did…
“I will get to the bottom of this,” said Finchbones. “I don’t believe you were alone out here, and I think goblins turning up in a dead village is too much of a coincidence. But there are a great many things that don’t add up, either.”
Like how three goblins caused herds of farm animals to trample themselves to death, say?
No, I suppose they’ll blame that on the hypothetical wizard we’re apparently working for. Sigh.
“We are rangers,” said Finchbones. “We can track a squirrel through a thousand-mile forest. We will find out where you came from, and what has happened here.”
Nessilka met his eyes squarely. “Good. Then will understand. Then will grant fairness as prisoners of war.”
If you can grandstand, son, so can I… She only wished she had the words to do it well.
His eyes did not look tired any longer. He nodded once, turned on his heel and left.
“Think he’ll ask her about it?” asked Murray.
“If he does,” said Nessilka, “I imagine we’ll know in a few minutes.”
Nessilka’s estimate was off by almost an hour. Possibly Finchbones had been subtle with his questioning, or maybe he’d sent someone to go find the old human. Nessilka rather hoped that the old man had pulled through.