Covert of the Old Weald

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Chapter Fourteen of Under the Goblin Trees

Campaign adaptation by Thomas Kelly

“Lords! My lords!” William fell to his knees, bowing and scraping before us, still trembling for the fright of the battle. “I swear by head and hide to serve thee, for I owe thee my debt of featly. But for thee, those captains would have flayed me! The ogre would crush me! The troll would tear off my arms and legs. Those bears—their claws—and that terrible eagle too! I am your servant, William, by my life!”  

“Swear to it against your own name! Swear by the ugly names of all your ugly jebli gods,” Myron menaced. “May hobgoblins ravage you, may bears maul you, may an ogre tread upon your torn corpse, may a roc carry your carcass away to feed its young, and may a troll grind his teeth on your bones if you prove false to us or do us any harm. Swear it now!”

Utterly in awe of our powers, the terrified goblin agreed to those stern oaths and swore them against his own head. Yet for all that show of fealty, none of us felt any need to unbind his wrists or grant him leave to go about as he would.

Wounds and Weals

Cirilli and I exhausted all our strength attending to Ivan, leaving Belvenore and Bruin without divine touch for their own wounds. In addition to Ivan’s sores, we had the matter of the woodsman’s horse. The troll’s great claw had raked the flesh and lamed the animal’s leg. The Backluni charger’s eyes lolled about, wild with pain. The animal staggered and stumbled, whinnying most pitifully. None could approach it to unsaddle it or remove the packs it bore. It seemed a kindness to release the poor beast from its pains, but Cirilli would not countenance it.

“Listen child. Is it meet for us to let the beast suffer?” Belvenore insisted. “Let me do the thing. She will scarcely feel the touch of my blade.”

Then rose Cirilli from Ivan’s side, drew near to the injured animal, whispered in her twitching ear, and calmed the poor beast. “She says she will suffer me to attend to her wound,” Cirilli explained. To my astonishment, the horse submitted to let her wash and bandage the torn leg.

“So she speaks horse now?” Bruin asked.

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