I hobbled toward the sword, still pretending my hands were tied.
Nyar knew what I was up to. He managed to lead Mr. Vedast back around, closer to me, and I quickly picked up the sword by the blade so I could get the hilt of it right into his hand.
I was so urgent, and the blade was so sharp, that I slashed my palm. It stung like anything, blood leaking from the gash immediately, but I wrapped my apron around the wound. “Don’t worry about me!” I cried, when Nyar looked at me with concern.
He barely ducked from Mr. Vedast’s latest attack. One of the tips of his horns was slashed off and rolled into the river.
But now Nyar had his own sword, and he could give as good as he got. I knew just how strong he was, and I knew he still practiced, so I expected him to be good with a sword, and he was.
Their blades clashed, ringing in my ears, neither seeming to have the upper hand at first—but Nyar was on the defensive. By choice, I hoped. Mr. Vedast seemed ready to burn his energy. Every muscle in my body tensed, watching how close that fierce blade came to the man I loved. In one horrible moment, it could all be over, and it was all so fast.
Nyar blocked one of Mr. Vedast’s more vigorous assaults. Their blades were crossed, arms straining, Mr. Vedast trying to knock Nyar down while he dug in his heels.
With a grunt, Nyar shoved Mr. Vedast back again, and they were back where they started, striking at each other. I could see Mr. Vedast had lost the vigor of his initial assault, but he was not an opponent to underestimate. As he tired, perhaps he was also considering his strategy better. He still had Nyar on the defense.
But Nyar looked relaxed, nimble on his feet, his golden eyes slightly narrowed.
Mr. Vedant rushed at Nyar, and to me it looked like he might strike his side. I gasped, unable to do anything but watch.
Nyar blocked in the nick of time, and grabbed Mr. Vedant’s sword by the hilt before he could recover from the force of his blow. He twisted the sword out of his hand, and now Nyar had both swords.
I clutched my hands with sudden joy and admiration of his skill, before I remembered we were all trapped here, on the opposite bank of the river. It didn’t really matter who won. The river witch would have the last word.
A moment later, the doors burst open. Mr. Vedast’s men didn’t even try to hold back the wave of goblins who rushed in, armed with swords and knives and other various weapons. The ones in front had shields, forming a wall of metal. A hundred seemed a fair assessment. My heart thrilled at the sight. Finally, I could see the faces of my friends. Mostly men in this front wave, but a few scrappy-looking women with surprisingly strong arm muscles were in the gang. I assumed that only the fighting goblins had come through the doors.
“My king!” A few of them rushed to the shore.
“Garor? So you are alive. Who was the knife, then?”
Garor, one of the burliest of the goblins, with a scar on his face, looked pained. “It was my lady Selnay, my lord. I was the butter dish.”
“The butter dish?” I asked, flashing back to when I had patted the butter dish while wondering if it was a goblin warrior in real life. I had been right on the mark.
“Selnay?” Nyar cursed. “Don’t cross the river. She’ll kill you.” He looked at Mr. Vedast. Both of them had paused their fighting when the goblins surged in. “You can surely see that your men are outnumbered and out armed. Let my people have their gold. My sins were never theirs to begin with.”
“And what about me?” Mr. Vedast shot a furious glance at the rest of his gang.
“I’m sorry, Vedast, I didn’t sign up to fight an army of goblins. I thought we were going to plunder an abandoned cave.” One of the men held up his arms. “Have your gold. Just let me get out of here.”
Mr. Vedast’s other men quickly followed suit, putting away their weapons and spreading their hands.
A younger goblin poked one of them with a clawed finger and jeered, “Yeah, get out of here!” before getting cuffed by one of the more seasoned soldiers.
“I’m going to die with you? Like hell!” Mr. Vedant flung himself across the river. He managed to get his arms on the opposite bank, and started clawing himself up.
The river roiled, splashing his face. The river witch cackled.
“Help me, damnit!” Mr. Vedant yelled at his men. One of them approached, holding out a hand, and was immediately met with another wave. He, at least, seemed braced for it.
“Hurry!” he shouted. “Get my hand!”
But the water was surging where it entered the grotto, and a current rushed at Mr. Vedant, while an undertow seemed to pull him beneath the water. He thrashed, his friend still making a valiant attempt to reach for him.
“Stop!” I cried. I didn’t want to see Mr. Vedant drown, even if he had tried to kill Nyar. I didn’t want to see anyone drown. Especially when we might be next.
Nyar put an arm around me.
It was too late for Mr. Vedant. His body was sucked under and dragged across the rocks. I had to bury my face in Nyar’s chest. The river witch was enjoying herself, laughing as she carried him off the same way Knife had gone. You’re better off without him anyway, wouldn’t you say?
“Even a criminal deserves a trial,” I said. But it was obviously too late for that.
Mr. Vedant’s friend hastily backed away from the river. Friend? Maybe I shouldn’t have said ‘friend’. No one seemed all that upset by his death. He was not well liked in the town, that was for sure.
“We’d better just go,” the man said.
“I’d say so,” Garor said, picking up one of the bags of gold almost like he was going to slug one of the humans in the head with it.
The human men retreated hastily now, and the goblins cleared out of the way to let them pass.
Then they approached us, gathering on the opposite side of the bank. Nyar and I stood alone, in a small, dark, cavernous space, with nothing but the glass coffin. Obviously, the river witch had allowed Nyar to cross the river every morning to sleep, but now her waters danced menacingly.
“We could get a rope,” Garor said.
“Garor—my friends—all of you. Please, listen to me. Are the rest of you out in the hall? I hope they can hear me,” Nyar said. There was not much room left in the grotto to fit more people, but I assumed there must be other goblins who had not joined the fight. “I might not make it out of this. Before anything else, I just want to…see your faces. And offer you my sincerest apology. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t thought it was a good idea to put on a glamour and run around with faery maidens. I was young and stupid, and not a wise ruler.”
“But you were a fun ruler!” one of the female fighters said.
“We are goblins, my lord. Don’t hold yourself to the standard of some stuck-up faery witch,” Garor said.