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the guards behind Reginal sniggered, but the others kept straight faces.

“Reginal, if you wanted to get rid of me by force, you’d have done it already. You haven’t, because although you’d have as good a chance as any of beating me, you don’t want to risk any more lives. Your seat of power has a hole in it, and your green arse is sticking out of the bottom.”

“You…you grubby little…” said Reginal, his face a painting of fury. “I’ll have you thrown into a hole in the middle of the wasteland and left until you become a fossil if you don’t watch it. Shut your gem mouth for a second and listen to me.”

“Remember whose home you are in, chief.”

“Is that a warning? Threats require foundations to build them on, Beno, and yours are about as strong as the skin on a rice pudding. Listen to me. Dullbright has sent two more letters. One each day. The oaf wants a bloody pen pal, or something. He becomes more insistent by the hour of us handing either you or Jahn to him, and I run out of time with which to be patient. Now, Galatee and I have discussed this until we were blue in the arse, and we see no way of keeping our vital trading routes with Hogsfeate intact whilst allowing you to remain here.”

“Have you considered other trading partners? The Silkers, perhaps?”

“Damn it, Beno! You know how I feel about those gold-grubbing weasels. They are a disease, curse them! They worm their way into a town and then rot it from the inside. If we allow them to settle in our home, it might look well for us in the short term. But over time, they will grow in influence, bleed us until we are dryer than snakeskin, take whatever is left that is worth salvaging and then disappear to the next town. No, the Silkers are not the solution. You don’t cure a sore throat by drinking acid.”

Now would have been the time for me to tell him that I had plans for good old Dullbright. But I couldn’t. There wasn’t a chance in Xynnar that Reginal or Galatee would sit by and watch me try to assassinate the leader of Hogsfeate. The consequences of failure would be too much for them, because Dullbright would almost certainly respond with a devastating blow. Neither chief had the guts to make the gamble, I suspected.

If I told Reginal now, I would be forcing him and Galatee to agree on something for once; that I needed to be stopped. It just wasn’t an option. I needed to stall him for just a few more days, and give Shadow and Eric a chance to complete their task.

“I’m glad you here actually, Reginal. I have news for you.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Not quite. Cynthia tells me that she’s down to her last batch of oscil. When it’s gone, she can’t create any more orbs for Devry, and your poor lad will be in trouble.”

Reginal suddenly lurched across the table to grab me, his eyes twisted in fury. I floated away from his grasp.

“Now Reginal, wait for a second-”

The chief drew his sword.

“You dare threaten my son?”

The sound of six more blades leaving their sheaths was loud, but not loud enough to drown Reginal’s angry breathing. He was like a rabid dog, utterly thunderous in his fury. I saw now how he had become chief of his goblins in the first place.

A guard approached my left, trying to grab me. I dodged him.

“Gary? Brecht?” I said.

From the tunnel beyond the chamber came a monster. Gary, my hideous hybrid of troll, spider, and leech. He stomped in, his leech legs slurping on the ground, his bulbous abdomen banging clumsily into the wall as he squeezed through the archway.

The two guards nearest to him backed away, clearly terrified. Even the ones on the far side of the room couldn’t take their eyes off him. Only Reginal showed not the slightest fear.

“Order your insect back, Beno, or I’ll cut its legs off.”

“Come now, dear chap,” said Gary. “There’s no need to be like that.”

A kobold scampered in. He placed a tambourine on the ground and began tapping a rhythmic beat. Plumes of light dispersed from the drum, like puffs of dust dispersed every time Brecht slapped his palm down.

The dust sneaked into one guard’s nostrils. It crept into the ears of another, into the mouth of a third.

Brecht [Kobold, Bard] has leveled up to 21!

- Song mana cost reduced

- Song effectiveness increased by 20%

One by one, the guards lowered their swords. Their eyes widened as if they had spent the night boozing on red wine.

Only Reginal, again, was unaffected. Gripping his sword tighter, he slapped the guard closest to him on the back.

“What the hell has gotten into you all? Lift your swords!”

“This is Brecht, my bard,” I said. “Your guards are enjoying his Lullaby of Lethargy.”

“Magic? You have used magic on my goblins? This is it, Beno! You have gone too far!”

“Actually, I’m stopping it from going too far. None of your guards will be harmed, they’ll just be sluggish for a while. I’m disappointed Brecht’s song doesn’t affect you, but I suppose not everyone is a fan of music. Now, Reginal, can we talk peacefully?”

Reginal kicked a chair over. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

“How can you have any clue about my words, when you won’t listen to them? We are not enemies, Reginal. Or, we don’t have to be.”

“Go on then, core.”

“As I was saying before you drew your sword, I know that Cynthia is running out of what she needs to make Devry’s orbs. I am not playing with words or making hidden threats, Reginal.”

“If you are not making threats, then why bring my boy

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