Unicorn Point (43 page)

Now she explained the likely goblin organization and ap proach. They would be armed with small spears and clubs, and each would have a knife. Some would have had military training, having served on one of their more disciplined cam paigns, and those would be the organizers. They were tough little fighters, fearless in combat, but tended to dissolve into mobs, each intent on grabbing loot for himself. Their females were relatively gentle and often quite pretty in the human style; these would be assigned noncombat duties as far as possible.

The goblins were good at tunneling, seeming to have some magic that facilitated this. It was Hornirila’s judgment that they would try to tunnel to the blue flag, and draw it under, collapsing the tunnel behind so that pursuit was awkward.
 
But they would surely try any other stratagems they could devise, and the wolves would have to be constantly alert.
 
“Ne’er assume a gob is dead unless you have killed him,” she warned. “Bite one and he will scream and fall and lie still—then stab you when you turn away. Stay clear o’ any bodies, or dump them in a ditch and guard it. No gob can be trusted, living or dead.”

They decided to form a disposal crew that would follow after the fighters, and use spears to stab any dead gobs, then would haul them to a central depot and guard them. That way they would be sure, and not be trapped by gobs feigning death. If they got all the goblins in that pile, fine; then the red flag would be vulnerable.

“I believe we can take them,” Hornirila concluded, “if we fall not into one o’ their traps. Care be the watchword; take time and take naught for granted, and forge a slow victory.” The session broke up.

The three cubs remained for their special instruction. This was done by Hornirila, who showed them how to fashion goblin garb and darken their manform skins to goblin hue. Forelrno had to practice grimacing, and to add covers to his ears to make them huge and ugly, and fluff his hair out wild to make his head look big enough and put on special shoes that resembled the gross goblin feet. The bitches had less trouble, being much more like gob women, but did have to pad out their shirts to look grown-breasted.
 
“But will they not know us for non-tribesmen?” Sirel asked. “Their group be not much larger than ours—”

“Three times ours, in numbers,” Kurrelgyre said. “They deem three gobs to be equal to one wolf, and it behooves us not to question that, lest they increase the number.”

“E’en so,” Sirel persisted, “they should know their own, as we do. We know all o’ ours, and many o’ other Packs, and many ‘corns and bats too, and some elves. The gobs be not stupid like ogres.”

“Needs must I explain,” Hornirila said. “Gobs be not like decent folk. They be creatures o’ annoyance, ire and hate.
 
They band together because they hate all others worse than they hate other goblins, but it be an uneasy association. All too readily goblin males fight goblin males, and gob women are fair game for erotic pursuit, whether they will or nay. It be a point o’ pride that gobs o’ both genders have no friends and few acquaintances; all others they detest. Their cubs are cursed into grudging obedience, and leave their dams early as they can. There be no families; offspring be from rape, coercion, deception or, if all else fails, seduction.”

“Deception?” Terel asked, morbidly intrigued.
 
“Gob girls be e’er naive and hopeful. They want to think that a gob man be decent inside, and that his violence and bad manner be but a show. So when one says he loves a girl, an only she give him a suitable time, she believes, and gives him that time. That may endure till he forget himself and revert to normal, and start hitting her. But by that time she may be gravid. Mostly they bother not; a male simply threatens her with a bashing an she not do for him, or he bash her anyway so she can resist not. Before long the girl comes onto the truth,’that there be no good in any gob male, and that be her initiation into womanhood. Thereafter she avoids males when she can, and submits when she has to, that she be not beat on too badly. But by that time, too, she has little use for any other o’ her species, and be as isolated as the males.
 
Nay, an ye three look like goblins, and like young ones, none will challenge.”

Sirel exchanged glances with Terel and Forelmo. All three were appalled. What an awful curse it was to be a goblin!
 
But maybe the bitch exaggerated. After all, she had had bad experience with goblins. Still, she was their expert on the matter. They had to hope she was right, so that their mission had a chance.

“Now, an a gob male come at thee—“ Hornirila said to Sirel.

“But will he not mistake me for one o’ theirs?” she asked, hoping she misunderstood the thrust of this advice.
 
“That be what I mean. He will seek sex with thee, if he be not hard-pressed by wolves at the moment. An it be pri vate, smile at him, let him embrace thee, then stab him in the stomach, thusly.” She whipped a knife out from a sheath hidden under her skirt and stabbed upward in a gutting mo tion.

“But I can do that not!” she protested.

“Aye thou canst, cub! Think o’ it as a mere animal kill.
 
Remember, all deaths be for the duration o’ the siege only, more’s the pity. It be our purpose to dispatch all the gobs we can, that their number be insufficient to defend their flag at the end. E’ery little stab helps!”

Sirel had to acknowledge the validity of that. She had to be prepared to kill creatures who did not seem like animals.
 
“But an it be public, this be more o’ a problem,” the bitch continued.

Sirel understood why. If other goblins saw her kill one of them, they would know her for an enemy. But if she did not resist . . .

“Avoid him,” the bitch continued. “Sidestep as he reaches for thee. An he pursue thee, flee. This be what the goblin lassies do. Lead him to a private place, then do as before.
 
But an there be no private place, an he catch thee, stare him in the face and say ‘What be my payment?’ He will profess outrage at the notion; gobs like plundering the wealth o’ oth ers, not yielding up their own. Then say ‘But Slackjaw paid me with a magic amulet! Be thou not his match?’ An he be not diverted by this, and seeks to ravish thee regardless, call to the nearest other male gob and cry ‘Canst stand by and watch me be ravished by this dullard, when thou dost be the one I hanker for?’ Then in the ensuing quarrel, sneak away.”

Sirel was impressed and appalled. She realized that if she got killed, she would recover after the siege—but what if she got raped? She wasn’t sure that could be undone. After all, she had not yet had her first heat. Her motions with Barel had been tentative and gentle; this would hardly be the case here. A successful masquerade could still put her in jeopardy!
 
They perfected their costumes, then reverted to wolf form.
 
Now when they changed, they would be complete with cos tume and knives. They would remain in wolf form until the siege, so that no spy would know.

Next day was the siege. Kurrelgyre and his senior bitch went out to make contact with the goblin chief. At their re turn, the action commenced. Several wolves bounded for ward, zig-zagging so as to make poor targets. They were met by a number of thrown rocks, but the goblins were no ogres; most of the rocks missed, and those that struck were not very damaging. The wolves landed among them and started tear ing flesh.

Meanwhile, other wolves in manform used bows to pick off any goblins they saw exposed. Before long the front re gion was clear, and the bitches on the body-hauling crew went out to collect the goblin corpses. Sure enough, some of the gobs weren’t dead; a bitch got stabbed when she bent over one. Hornirila’s warning had been apt!
 
Meanwhile other bitches listened at the ground. Here, too, the warning was apt: in due course they heard the sounds of deep tunneling. It was proceeding at a measured but adequate rate toward the blue flag. Well, there would be a welcoming party when that tunnel broached the surface!
 
The three cubs saw these activities only in passing. They faded back, pretending to be searching for hidden goblins, but actually working their way out of sight so they could make their long circuit to the rear of the goblin flag. They knew that the goblins’ main effort, the tunnel, would take time, just as the wolves’ main effort of gob destruction would. They did not have to hurry, only to hide. Still, they felt urgency, lest some surprise cost their side the siege before they had a chance to complete their mission.

They had ranged the terrain in advance, of course, and well knew the lay of it. They had marked the places where goblins could hide. The gobs would be watching for an encirclement, and there were certain key spots for this. These were the tricky ones to navigate.

The first was a ravine that ran from wolf to gob territory.
 
Beyond it was an open plateau leading to the big lake; no cover there. Inside it was a thicketed dirt bank that was so obviously suitable for goblin tunneling that no wolf dared go near it. So the ravine was the route to use—and there would surely be a goblin guarding it. Perhaps two. But not many, 9 because the goblins could not spare a great number for the outlying regions, while the main action was in the center.
 
There was a faint smell of goblin, so the region was suspect.
 
The pups were prepared. Terel had a small bow, with which she was facile in girlform. She crawled in the brush beyond the bank on the near side of the gully. When she was in place, Forel in wolf form leaped into the gully at its origin and raced straight along its deepening center. If he got through, Sirel would follow. If not—

A goblin popped out of a hole in the top of the bank. .He drew back his arm, about to hurl a stone down into the gully.
 
Terel fired her arrow. It struck through the goblin’s back.

The goblin collapsed.

Forel continued on down the length of the ravine without other event. It seemed that one goblin was all the enemy had been able to spare for this. Was he truly dead? Sirel wasn’t sure, but knew that they would not be returning this way, so it probably didn’t matter. She set off in wolf form, following Forel’s trail.

The goblin did not stir as she passed him. He was either dead or too canny to move while Terel covered him from behind. Sirel got through unscathed, and joined Forel in the cover of a tree. Forel had sniffed the vicinity and was assured that no goblins were near.

In a moment Terel arrived, having changed back to wolf form and followed their trail. “Dead,” she growled. “In hole.” Obviously she had verified it, and hauled the gob back into his hole so that the body was hidden. That was good, because it meant that there would be no report of their passage. Of course if another goblin came and found the dead one, there would be a suspicion, but by then it might well be too late.

One hurdle down. The next was a thickly forested section that was sure to be mined with goblins. Indeed the smell was there; goblins would be hiding in several trees, ready to at tack any wolf who tried to pass.

Now the three changed to their human forms. They looked exactly like three goblins. They had rehearsed for this too, but Sirel was weak-human-kneed about the ploy’s chance for success.

Terel set up in the bushes near the trees, her bow ready.
 
Forel stood and walked boldly toward the trees, making no effort at all to hide. “Hey, any wolves in here?” he called.
 
“I’ll bash ‘em!”

“Shut up, nut!” a goblin called from the foliage above.

“You’ll ruin the ambush!”

“Aw, they’ll ne’er get this far!” Forel asserted.
 
Now Sirel walked up. Forel whirled on her. “Hey, that’s for me!” he cried, starting toward her.
 
Sirel dodged behind a tree. “I be coming only to relieve the guards o’ the flag!” she protested. “Molest me not, oaf!”

“Ha-ha! What I plan be not molestation, just fun!” He pursued her around the tree.

Sirel fled through the forest, in the direction of the flag.
 
There were assorted chortles from the trees; evidently the ambushers considered this mere good sport. Forel was gaining on her; by the time she reached the cover of the bushes of an overgrown glade, he was almost upon her.
 
But as they dived into the bushes, they changed back to their wolf forms. They had made it! The ruse had worked!
 
They were through without suspicion.

Could Terel make it also? They waited anxiously.

Soon they heard a commotion from the forest. “Mine!”

“Nay, mine!” Then a scream.

Sirel shuddered. Terel had not made it. The ambush goblins, perhaps excited by the notion of chasing females, had pounced on the next one that showed, and Terel had been unable to escape. She must have stabbed one—but there had been more than one, and no chance to play them off against each other. Was Terel dead or raped?

At any rate, their rear guard was gone. Terel had done well, but now they were two. They could not pause for regrets.
 
The flag was not far ahead. They crept to cover near it and watched.

It was guarded by several goblin maidens. They chatted and tittered and tossed flowers at each other in the manner of maidens everywhere, seeming to have not a care in the frame. But each had a knife in her garter, and there were surely many males within hailing distance. One scream would bring a convergence. Sirel knew better than to try to pass for a gobliness among these; the males overlooked details be cause of their unbridled lust, but these girls would know. She had to wait for her opportunity.