Ryslind’s eyes ran the length of Jig’s body, and the goblin stiffened. His fear grew stronger, if that was possible, for those eyes glowed with a soft red light. Taken with the robes and the tattoos, those eyes meant Jig was standing far closer to a living wizard than he wanted to. He wondered if he could subtly put a bit of space between himself and Ryslind. A hundred miles or so should suffice.

“No wounds on this one.” Barius shoved Jig into the middle of the room. On his shoulder, Smudge flared again, and Jig thought he smelled burning skin. “Probably lost his weapon and spent the whole fight hiding in the corner.”

“This goblin shows more sense than yourself, brother.” Ryslind clasped his hands together. “Had the one who escaped you before been armed, you would have far worse than bruises to show for your carelessness. As is, you are fortunate I was in place before he led his fellows to attack.”

“Here now, we won and that’s the only thing that matters when you get down to it,” Darnak interrupted. “Let me tie these three up before they try anything else. Barius, why don’t you go find out where Riana’s hiding herself?”

“Find her yourself, friend dwarf.” Barius strode over to face the surviving goblins. “One of these creatures will pay for his assault on my . . . dignity.”

“So that’s what they’re naming it these days,” Darnak muttered.

Beside Jig, Porak groaned. “What’s he talking about?” The third goblin shrugged, then groaned as the movement aggravated the arrow wound in his gut. Jig tried to look invisible. The prince was close enough for Jig to see the hatred in his eyes, and he wondered what sort of revenge Barius had in mind. Knowing humans, it probably involved sharp knives, hot coals, and a great deal of pain and unpleasantness. Pain for Jig, that was. Barius would no doubt enjoy himself immensely.

“Stupid coward,” Porak grumbled. “You led us into a trap. An ambush. Why didn’t you warn us about the archer?”

“I didn’t know,” Jig protested.

“You didn’t know. Most of my patrol wiped out, and you didn’t know.” He snorted in disgust.

“Silence,” Barius snapped.

“Silence yourself, human,” Porak said.

Jig groaned. He didn’t think the prince spoke Goblin—he probably considered it beneath him to learn such a “primitive” language—but there was no way he could have missed the contempt in Porak’s voice.

Barius’s jeweled sword moved slowly through the air to point at the goblins. Behind him, Ryslind sighed. “You haven’t lost your penchant for melodrama.”

Melodramatic or not, that sword dripped blue-black goblin blood, and Jig wasn’t about to laugh.

“Answer me one question, goblins.” Barius paced back and forth, studying each of their faces. “Which of you assaulted me in your cowardly attempt to escape?”