rested in his body. I walked a few minutes, and let my uneasy stomach guide me to the Captain's office, which was a logical place to go anyway. The window was too high for me to look through. I hid in the shadows and listened.
"This is terrible!" moaned the Captain. "Horrible! This is supposed to be a quiet region. Nothing ever happens here."
"Exactly why I believe they are coming this way," the Knight replied. Even just his voice put a smile on my bill even as my nausea increased. "They intend to push their way up into the kingdom, past an unguarded border. You were fortunate to put this fort up when you did."
"Fortunate." The Captain grunted the word as one might a curse. "Yes, fortunate."
Then came silence. Not true silence, but whispered mutterings I assumed to be coming from the Captain.
I spotted a crawling beetle nearby.
"You, come here." I spoke softly in the language of insects.
Controlling insects is very basic magic. All one has to do is speak, providing a talent for talking to bugs, and they'll re spond to any suggestion without hesitation. They're too simple to know their own wishes from another's.
"I need your eyes." I would have been polite, but politeness would only confuse the beetle. I cast a minor spell attuning my vision to the bug's. "Fly to the window, and see what's going on."
The beetle did so in due haste. I learned that a bug's eyes are made for a bug's world, and in a bug's world, everything fits into three categories: Things you can eat, Things that can eat you, and Everything else. The Captain and the Knight were monstrous blurs. I couldn't tell one from the other or the furniture. Another spell rectified the problem, and the world became clear.
The dark White Knight was better-looking than I remembered. His ears did stick out, even more than I'd first noticed, but it just made them easier to nibble on. He was taller than I remembered too. Glimpsing him through a bug's eyes was probably the reason for that. I watched him a minute, studying the lines of his body without hearing the conversation. Then the Captain finally said something that caught my attention.
"I've heard tales but didn't think them true."
"It's true. I've seen it with my own eyes."
"But goblings don't amass in hordes. It's unheard of." The Captain leaned over the table to pour himself a glass of wine. "Exactly how many goblings are in a horde?"
"I didn't perform an exact count. Just take the largest number you can imagine and double it. Then double that for good measure."
The Captain frowned, gulped down his wine, performed the mental calculations, and frowned deeper. "I'll organize an evacuation immediately."
"Very good. And I've already formulated some battle strategies that should help. I'll begin drilling your men in the morning."
The Captain squinted. "Perhaps you misunderstand. I'm talking about a complete evacuation. Soldiers included."
"The soldiers will be staying." The White Knight spoke with quiet authority. It was not a command so much as a fact shared with the unenlightened Captain.
"Surely, you can see that this is a small fort. We aren't a match for such a force. I've got only five companies."
"Five hundred will have to suffice." Again, he said it as an indisputable truth.
"Not these five hundred. These are the five hundred worst soldiers in the kingdom. Most of them haven't seen a battle. Those that have are alive only because the death maidens weren't paying close enough attention. That's why Fort Stalwart was commissioned in the first place. It's not a fort. It's a dumping ground for all those soldiers barely competent enough to avoid dishonorable discharges. It was deliberately put here because this is where nothing ever happens."
The Knight said nothing. He stood tall. His face betrayed not a hint of despair or fear.
"You see my point?" the Captain asked.
The Knight still said nothing.
"This is a horde. A gobling horde. This requires the best men available. Or at least not the very
"This is terrible!" moaned the Captain. "Horrible! This is supposed to be a quiet region. Nothing ever happens here."
"Exactly why I believe they are coming this way," the Knight replied. Even just his voice put a smile on my bill even as my nausea increased. "They intend to push their way up into the kingdom, past an unguarded border. You were fortunate to put this fort up when you did."
"Fortunate." The Captain grunted the word as one might a curse. "Yes, fortunate."
Then came silence. Not true silence, but whispered mutterings I assumed to be coming from the Captain.
I spotted a crawling beetle nearby.
"You, come here." I spoke softly in the language of insects.
Controlling insects is very basic magic. All one has to do is speak, providing a talent for talking to bugs, and they'll re spond to any suggestion without hesitation. They're too simple to know their own wishes from another's.
"I need your eyes." I would have been polite, but politeness would only confuse the beetle. I cast a minor spell attuning my vision to the bug's. "Fly to the window, and see what's going on."
The beetle did so in due haste. I learned that a bug's eyes are made for a bug's world, and in a bug's world, everything fits into three categories: Things you can eat, Things that can eat you, and Everything else. The Captain and the Knight were monstrous blurs. I couldn't tell one from the other or the furniture. Another spell rectified the problem, and the world became clear.
The dark White Knight was better-looking than I remembered. His ears did stick out, even more than I'd first noticed, but it just made them easier to nibble on. He was taller than I remembered too. Glimpsing him through a bug's eyes was probably the reason for that. I watched him a minute, studying the lines of his body without hearing the conversation. Then the Captain finally said something that caught my attention.
"I've heard tales but didn't think them true."
"It's true. I've seen it with my own eyes."
"But goblings don't amass in hordes. It's unheard of." The Captain leaned over the table to pour himself a glass of wine. "Exactly how many goblings are in a horde?"
"I didn't perform an exact count. Just take the largest number you can imagine and double it. Then double that for good measure."
The Captain frowned, gulped down his wine, performed the mental calculations, and frowned deeper. "I'll organize an evacuation immediately."
"Very good. And I've already formulated some battle strategies that should help. I'll begin drilling your men in the morning."
The Captain squinted. "Perhaps you misunderstand. I'm talking about a complete evacuation. Soldiers included."
"The soldiers will be staying." The White Knight spoke with quiet authority. It was not a command so much as a fact shared with the unenlightened Captain.
"Surely, you can see that this is a small fort. We aren't a match for such a force. I've got only five companies."
"Five hundred will have to suffice." Again, he said it as an indisputable truth.
"Not these five hundred. These are the five hundred worst soldiers in the kingdom. Most of them haven't seen a battle. Those that have are alive only because the death maidens weren't paying close enough attention. That's why Fort Stalwart was commissioned in the first place. It's not a fort. It's a dumping ground for all those soldiers barely competent enough to avoid dishonorable discharges. It was deliberately put here because this is where nothing ever happens."
The Knight said nothing. He stood tall. His face betrayed not a hint of despair or fear.
"You see my point?" the Captain asked.
The Knight still said nothing.
"This is a horde. A gobling horde. This requires the best men available. Or at least not the very
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