“Stand aside,” he growled and watched as the bloodshot eyes widened in fear. The Red Cap tried to stammer something, but Padric shoved him aside, reaching up to pull a span of the sailcloth out from under the ropes. Something heavy dislodged as he did so, and a large metal hand fell out from under the covering, the iron fingers easily large enough to encompass and crush Padric’s head. He wrestled the cloth further away and knelt low, staring up into the wagon bed. A jumble of rusted parts lay heavily upon each other. Amongst them a great head, face forged with a vaguely human countenance, stared back at him.

“How many?” Padric demanded of the commander, shoving the covering back down.

“F-four complete, my lord,” the goblin answered. “And pieces for maybe two others.”

“Where,” Padric pressed. “Where are they bound?”

The Red Cap hesitated, eyes jerking right and left, feebly searching for aid.

“Where?!”

“C-castle Gaunt, my lord.”

Padric straightened, then put on a satisfied smile. “Very well. Best get moving then. Our good Flame Binder will be awaiting these most eagerly.”

His statement was rewarded by the relief on the commander’s face.

“Alright you lot!” the goblin recaptured his authority with vigor. “You heard His Grace, get moving!”

The wagon and its escort turned slowly and made its plodding way out of camp. Padric watched them go. Torcan said the Flame Binder had duties far from here and now he knew where. The once personal demesne of the sorcerer for which it was named, Castle Gaunt was a cursed ruin, brooding atop its hulking rock somewhere to the west, near the center of the isle. So, Torcan was collecting the lifeless remains of the Forge Born and sending them to the Flame Binder at the hated stronghold. It sounded as if this army would march on Black Pool than head on to Castle Gaunt. More information he now impotently possessed.

He made his way back to the settlement, hunger gnawing at his gut. Maybe he could get something from one of the fishwives and avoid Heggle completely. No, he must return some time, for sleep if naught else. He did not know what would be required of him in the days ahead and he would need his strength as well as his wits if he had any hope of maintaining this deadly mummery. Freeing Slouch Hat was of the utmost importance as was speaking with Kederic. But his encounter at the wagon had taught him something; the goblins feared him. Equal boldness at the Thegn’s cage could prove fruitful. If nothing else, he would discover the length of his tether.