The Ring of Winter - James Lowder [93]
It seemed like common sense to Artus, but he nodded politely, as if the bara's orders were full of useful revelations. Before she turned away, he said, "When Kaverin shows himself, watch where he goes. He knows we were spying on him from T'fima's hut, so he might have moved your father from the queen's house."
Sanda paused and took Artus's hand. "Just stay out of sight until the warriors get here. If they arrive before sundown, we'll storm the main building. If not, we'll fall back into the jungle and come up with another plan."
Stealthily Artus moved through the undergrowth, settling for a post a few yards from Kwalu. He sat with his longbow at his side, the arrows planted tip-down in the ground near his feet. This was an old army practice Pontifax had taught him upon returning from the Tuigan Wars. The Cormyrian archers had used the time-saving trick to good effect in their battles with the barbarians.
The goblin camp was much the same as Artus had seen it last. A few guards hid in the shadows of Queen M'bobo's two-story palace. Others squatted in the doorways of various huts or lounged against the leering totems stationed throughout the camp. Artus grimaced when he saw the wooden totems; their screeching alarm rang fresh enough in his ears for him to dread disturbing them again.
One thing had changed in the Batiri enclave. In many places, tattered, sagging tents were staked out next to the huts. Artus could see warriors fast asleep under these dirty bivouacs, piled together like dozing lions. Their spears had been planted outside the tents, much in the same way the explorer had planted his arrows-point-down and ready for quick use. Banners marked with crude symbols announced which clan occupied each part of the camp.
The sun was fading fast, and there was still no sign of the Tabaxi warriors King Osaw had promised or Kaverin himself. Without knowing precisely where Rayburton was hidden, it was pointless to charge into the camp; Artus patiently bided his time by counting the goblins and learning their clan symbols. Sanda didn't share the explorer's patience. As dusk began to settle on the camp, she climbed a nearby tree, perhaps for a better vantage.
"I hear somethin', I do," the closest of the Batiri guards murmured. He was a short brute, even for a goblin, with one fang missing and a jagged gash across his face. He squinted in Sanda's direction. The woman hung motionless and silent, only half-hidden by the brush. Raising his spear menacingly, the goblin started toward her. "What're you there, hidin' in the tree?"
Why doesn't he call out the other guards? Artus wondered, grabbing his bow and nocking an arrow. He centered his aim on the guard's throat; if the arrow struck true, it would stop him from crying out. The guard took another step forward, then another.
Just like when they captured me last time, Artus thought bitterly. Only there's no spider to-
He let the arrow slide to the ground and pulled his dagger from his boot. Concentrating on the softly glowing stone set in the hilt, he whispered, "Come down." In the leaves high above, something trilled a loud reply to the magical summons.
A monstrous spider crawled partway down the trunk toward Sanda. Like the thing that had knocked Artus from his hiding place when he'd first escaped the Batiri camp, this one was easily as large as a man. Hair as black as midnight stood up like a porcupine's bristles all along its body and how they'd been spotted. And standing as they were, with their backs to the jungle, they couldn't see the sad, phantasmal figure of Sir Hydel Pontifax behind them. The ghost hovered above the ground for a moment, hands held out to Artus. By the time the battle started, he had faded reluctantly into the growing twilight.
Thirteen
The Batiri warriors were close enough for Artus to see the fury in their yellow-tinged eyes and the glint of the fading sun off their