image by Adrian Tysoe

They had walked for almost a mile when they heard the screams.  Starsunwind loped ahead to scout and was soon transmitting images to Silversteine’s mind.  Images of small, hairy, greenish creatures armed with vile looking weapons who had surrounded a wagon.  Images of a short stocky man-like being with a beard flowing down almost to his knees and his axe clutched in his powerful arm rising up to meet the horde while pushing his stocky (but beardless) companion who was holding a little stocky boy deeper into the wagon.  The companion screamed and screamed again as barbed arrows whistled through the air to strike the short stocky “man” with the flowing beard.  The green beings screeched their triumph and advanced haphazardly.

Silversteine blinked, shook her head and described for Gannon what Starsunwind had seen.  He looked like he wanted to growl, to rush off to fight but instead he seemed to force himself to push Silversteine away from the road that led to the beleaguered party.  “Sounds like a pack of goblins are attacking a dwarven caravan.  All right—we can bypass them along the animal track along these bushes here,” he told her.  Silversteine turned on him in anger, “Bypass them?  That man—dwarf–and his whole family will be killed if we don’t help them.  How can you turn away?”

Something dark seemed to pass behind Gannon’s eyes; his face set.  But his expression changed in an instant.  Perhaps she had but imagined it?  “They are not my responsibility.  You are,” was all he said.

“I don’t know how they do these things where you come from,” Silversteine told him, “but in the Village we help—helped–one another.  I know a few spells—simple things perhaps—a few fireballs. Yet they may be of help.  And help I intend.”  So saying, she jerked away from him and half-ran down the main road, toward the cries for help.

Gannon caught up with her and grabbed her by the arm.  “Listen to me,” he said urgently,” Don’t you think I want to help those dwarves?  But I can’t.  Not with you.  You would unleash spells at those goblins.  Spells you had learned in the Library; spell you had studied in books.  For that is how a mage learns, by reading spell-books, is it not?  But we are forbidden books; we are forbidden to read.  Remember?  How are you going to explain your magic to those dwarves?  For they (or others you may not see) may be spying for the Queen.  She has spies everywhere—trust me in this.”