They reached the clearing.
The part of Siri that was a sane, practical, slightly cutthroat accountant never quite trusted the safety of the clearing. Even though it was pretty solidly proven. The different tribes/companies raided each other freely in the woods, but each fortress was sacrosanct. The only way someone from another company was coming in here was if they were dragged, possibly in chains.
Which happened often enough.
The décor was sort of demented Tolkien, she thought, as if someone had given Orcs the job of creating Lothlorien. There was a lot of wood involved, a lot of it still rooted in the ground and growing. For the rest, nailing up boards, weaving in vines, piling up branches – it was all pretty haphazard and various parts didn't look like they should be holding up. Other parts looked like Yggdrasil wannabes that might, with a little work, hold up nine worlds someday.
But, architectural critique was cut short by her grandfather rushing up to her as she slid off the mount. He caught her up in a bear hug that somehow managed not to hurt all the things (especially her shoulder) that should have been hurt by it.
Goblins had odd talents.
"Well, girl? What mischief were you up to, this time, alone in my woods?"
"Getting out of a battle." She knew that didn't count as a reason for Grandfather, so she nodded towards Bae. "I had to watch out for the civilians."
"Ah, so your friend, Silver, said. What of this boy? What puts him in your care?"
Siri gave a brief summary of Tom finding Bae and deciding to help him, finishing up with the attack.
"Was it any creature you know?"
"Not really. Reminded me a little of the Shadeling. Remember him? He works for Uncle Lucian."
Grandfather snorted. "If your attacker was as unpleasant as that piece of demon spawn, I won't blame you for grabbing the civilian and running."
Siri was enough her grandfather's daughter to bristle at the way he said "running." Somehow – another Goblin talent – he still made it sound like she'd been a rabbit bolting for a hole. "Gee. Thanks. What about Silver? She just happened to show up?"
"She says she'd seen something in water and ice. And her liege lady had word for you. That was all she told us. Do you wish her to remain? Or shall I throw the baggage out?"
Thereby sidestepping what had to be a whole army of problems . . . which would probably still come and hunt Siri down if she didn't face them now.
"No, I'll talk to her."
"Well enough. Then, the witchling can make herself useful and use some of her skills on your injuries. Hey! Cat-girl! Come tend to my granddaughter!
"Don't worry," he added to Siri. "I'll watch after the boy for you."
And, on that distressing note, Siri found herself separated from Bae.
o0o0o0o
The road led into a great clearing with a strange fortress made out of wood and living trees. Goblins milled around it, not unlike the folk of a human castle, going about various tasks, tending their mounts, practicing with weapons, gossiping.
None of that stopped when Bae and the others road in. Instead, all the Goblins paused ever so slightly before going on with exactly what they had been doing before, watching Bae and the rest with sideways glances.
Their smiles, Bae thought, became just a touch broader, their sharp teeth just a bit more exposed.
One Goblin came running up to them. His hair was shorter than Mehitabel's and rose up around his head like black flames. Siri hugged him and called him grandfather.
The two of them had a brief discussion Bae couldn't hear before the Goblin called over Silver, calling her 'cat-girl,' and sent her off with Siri to tend her wounds. Then, he turned his attention to Bae.
"Well met and welcome to my hall, boy. I am the captain of this company, Captain Roberts. And how would you have me call you?"
He wasn't asking for his name, Bae noticed, wondering if Goblins put as much importance on names as his father seemed to. "Is it dangerous to give you my name . . ." he hesitated. ". . . Sir?"
The Goblin laughed, as if Bae had said something clever. "Perhaps, boy. I don't think I'd misuse it, but we're chancy folk – and this land is not the safest of places. Keep it secret, if you've a mind to. I'll call you 'Ben,' if I've a need and if you've no objection. It means 'son,' and I'm sure you're somebody's.
"Now, follow me, and let's get you out of this cold."
The Goblin's hall was a confusing maze of twisting corridors, rickety bridges, and sudden, unexpected openings, made harder to navigate by the dim light. Many were only partly covered and walls, when they existed, were warped and cracked. The wind moved freely around them.
Then, the Goblin opened a door on a small, elegant room.
The house his father had made for them had nothing like this. There might be something like this in the duke's palace, Bae thought, but he wasn't sure.
The walls were smooth and white. There was a fireplace made of white marble at one end. The furniture was strange, chairs and couches covered with velvet cloth over soft cushions. There was a small table, barely up to Bae's knee, over a carpet woven in jewel colored patterns with white tassels. Along the walls were paintings and shelves with odd knick-knacks and an army of books. There were oil lamps, candlesticks, and a tall candelabrum almost like a small tree.
"What is this place?" Bae asked.
"Hmm? Oh, a place where humans might feel more comfortable. Warm, well-lit, things you value more than we do."
"But –" He wanted to say it wasn't just that it was warm and well-lit. The things in it, the decorations and luxuries, he'd already seen enough of the fortress to be pretty sure Goblins ideas of beautiful things were limited to armor and weapons. Then, he remembered what Siri had said about her grandparents, a Goblin and a human. "You wife."
The Goblin raised a black, feather-like brow. "Indeed. These were hers. I brought them here when she died." He grinned at the memory. "Had to steal all of them."
"What? But they were yours."
"No, no, no, boy, they were hers. She hadn't spoken to me for years and years before she passed away. My fault entirely.
"I'd have bought the things," he added. "There are ways to find coin, after all. But, the auction was to be held at midday. While people's reactions to me might have been entertaining, I decided not to chance it."
Hadn't spoken for years and years. Bae remembered what a soldier had said about his own mother. "She . . . left you?" Bae asked.
"Aye, I gave her cause enough. I don't know how it is in your world but . . . sometimes, there are wounds that can't be mended.
"And Siri would take it out of my hide for weighing you down with an old man's foolish choices. Tell me of yourself, lad. What can have been so terrible that traveling with my granddaughter was the better choice?"
Bae wondered what his father would say if he knew his son was telling a Goblin about him. But . . . he'd already told the Goblin's grandchildren. He supposed there was no reason to hold back so, for the third time that night, he told his story, what had happened to his father, how he had called on the Blue Star for aid, how his father had broken his promise . . . how he had met Tom and Siri and been attacked by the black shadow, whatever it was.
"Ah, and let me guess," Captain Roberts said. "Tom says go home and forgive all, and Siri says run as hard as you can and put a torch to anything that tries to drag you back, eh?"
"Siri just said she'd help me run if I wanted."
"Amazing. Perhaps she's tired. I would have expected torches to be mentioned somewhere. She likes solving problems with flames, that girl."
"And what do you advise me to do?"
"Me? Nothing, boy. I wouldn't presume to judge. I don't know what your father was and I don't know what your father is. I can't tell you the good or the evil that will come of either choice."
"Why not?" Bae felt a rush of anger. This Goblin with his slightly mad way of talking seemed like he should be able to understand what had happened to Papa if anyone did. "You were changed, weren't you? You used to be human."
"Indeed," the Goblin grinned and sprawled into one of the chairs. He changed as he did so. Suddenly, it wasn't a Goblin in black and silver armor and leathers in front of him. It was a human wearing an unbuttoned great coat over what looked like a uniform, white trousers and vest with a blue jacket and brass buttons. He looked a bit like Tom, though his hair was shorter and not nearly as curly. He was still dark, though not nearly as dark as before. His red-brown skin reminded Bae of some of the travelling gypsies who used to come through the village before the war – and the forced recruitments for battle – drove them away.
His grin, however, despite the white teeth, was purely Goblin.
"Behold me as I was in life." He said the words as if they were some kind of joke. "A lieutenant in his Majesty King George III's navy. I'll tell you how to fight the French and how to wage a war at sea, if you want, but there's not much other advice I can give you."
"Why not?"
"Lad, did Siri tell you how it was with me? When I was taken to the Gloaming, I lost all memory of everyone and everything I loved – and much of the power to love as well. Goblins are selfish, self-centered beings.
"My sister, who is stubborn and relentlessly practical in the face of horror in the way only a well brought up Englishwoman can be, decided to find me and change me back. Miraculously, she did so.
"But, she also failed disastrously – I was, after all, her first attempt. She brought back only my memories, not my heart.
"As I said, a Goblin heart is selfish. Also fierce and cruel. Things that would break a heart of stone we only find amusing. Even those of us here, who are more human than the rest, tend to laugh at misfortune.
"So, I remembered my life. I remembered I had a wife and something of the feelings I'd had for her, their fierceness if none of the softness that had gone with them. I wrapped myself in illusions – as you see me, now – and came back to her.
"Communications were poor in those days. She was only too ready to believe the reports of my death were in error, especially since she could see me standing there before her – if you want advice, take that for free: be careful trusting the evidence of your own eyes.
"Our illusions only work at night. Morning came. My wife saw, well –" the uniformed man vanished, replaced again by a Goblin "-this. There were shouts, screams. I think she tried to kill me with an iron poker. Crosses and crucifixes also appeared – those are religious icons, very popular in Italy, where my dear lady was from. I was hit by a gold crucifix that had been a gift to her mother from the Doge of Venice . . . Well, to make a short tale of it, I fled.
"But, I returned. By then, she had taken numerous precautions against such as me. I was not able to get at her directly – I don't know what I would have done if I had, and I'm glad not knowing – but I was a terror to those who tried to help her.
"Till my sister tracked me down and took matters into her own hands. She realized my soul needed to somehow be brought back to me – which, in the end, she managed.
"If I could have made amends to my wife, then, I would have. But, as far as she was concerned, I was a monster, a demon. There was nothing I could do to pay back what I had done.
"If your father is what I was, keep yourself safe. If he will harm others, coming after you, keep them safe. But, if you can save him . . . . I remember what I was when I was nothing but a monster. You cannot imagine what it means to me to be at least something like a man. My sister shines like a goddess to those of us who have had ourselves given back to us – which exasperates her no end, she's very proper Church of England.
"But, I would never have asked my son to hazard his life to give that to me.
"Yet, if I had stood in the place to give my own father such a gift, I would have. And I'd have counted it cheap if I died giving it.
"That's three things: save your father, save the others, save yourself. And, if you cannot do all, I'm not the one to tell you how to pick and choose among them.
"But, I'll tell you true boy, I would take a knife to my own throat before I let a son of mine give his life for me. If your father cannot feel that, he's not worth of such a gift. If he can feel it, you would kill him in the giving."