Chapter 37: A Broken Breakfast

It was a full ten minutes before the ruckus settled down and the goblin crowd dispersed from the stage. Chatting animatedly, the goblin warriors slowly took their seats at the tables while the workers returned to ministering the pots.

No goblins seated themselves at my own table. The hall was at best half-filled, and wanting to be closer to their chief, all the warriors jostled together for places at the tables nearest to the stage.

The chief, of course, seated himself regally on his throne, and with his nose stuck in the air, watched his followers from above.

From beneath my table, I watched it all absently. My gaze was fixed on the two felled dire wolves. Both remained on the stage. The sire, I saw with relief, was moving—if feebly—but I couldn’t tell what the female’s condition was.

The pups had somehow managed to extend the range of their metal chains and reach their mother. Gamboling around her, they frantically licked and sniffed at her snout, but the dire wolf mother still did not stir.

Just as I began to wonder if the beasts would be left untended, the chief gestured imperiously and two older and scarred goblins ascended the stage. Bending over the wolves, they began to lather both with some pale green paste.

I blew out a relieved breath. It seemed the chief intended on keeping the creatures alive, and that female was not yet dead. Whatever was in the paste, it had to be a form of healing ointment.

Movement on my left drew my gaze. Dipping huge ladles into the cauldron, two workers were filling wooden bowls, while the other pair, with a bowl in each hand, began making their way towards the tables.

Breakfast was being served.

Renewed anxiety filled me. I was about to find out if my plan had any merit. Of course, I had no idea of the potency of the darts’ toxins, or what effect—if any—they would have on the goblins.

I was gambling, though, that they would have some effect. Considering how quickly a single dart had felled the young slime, I was willing to bet the poison would cause some adverse reaction on the goblins. How severe that reaction was, would determine the further actions, I took.

I wanted to save the dire wolf pups. I wanted to help their sire and mother, but I could not risk it if the poisons didn’t in some way incapacitate the goblins in the hall.

I watched the two workers bearing the dosed bowls of gruel ascend the stage. It seemed that the chief was to be served first. As the workers neared him, the chief, grabbed a bowl and without ceremony began stuffing huge gobfuls of the creamy goo into his mouth.

I observed the chief with keen interest, searching for the least hint that the goblin realized something was amiss with his food. But in an astonishing short space of time, the chief flung away his empty bowl and grabbed another from the waiting workers, and started eating again.

I smiled. The poison had gone undetected and the chief was none the wiser. Of course, it could also be that the toxin had been too diluted in the cauldrons’ contents to retain any potency, but I refused to believe that.

The poisons had to work.

The chief ate through all four bowls the two workers held out for him, before he slouched back in his throne, with his hunger sated. Rubbing his hands over his stomach, the goblin sighed and closed his eyes. I scratched my chin. Was the poison working? I couldn’t tell.

The workers descended the dais and began serving the warriors. On the stage, I spied one of the pups approach at the chief’s empty bowls, but after a cautious sniff, the pup wrinkled his nose and backed away. That at least is a good sign, I thought hopefully.

I turned my attention back to the warriors at the tables. They were eating with gusto, and like their leader, showed no sign of noticing anything amiss.

How long would it be before I knew if the toxins were working? There was no way to tell. Stretching out flat on the floor, I rested my head on my hands and schooled myself to patience. I would find out soon enough.

~~~

With a start I jerked awake.

Amazingly, I had fallen asleep. Damn, I’m tired. I can’t keep going on like this. I need rest. How long had I been unconscious? I couldn’t tell. Blinking my eyes rapidly to shake off the clinging tendrils of sleep, I looked around warily.

Something had awoken me… but what?

I was still under the table and unnoticed. The cavern remained murky and poorly lit, but had grown silent. Deathly silent. Are all the goblins dead? I wondered hopefully.

A snore erupted. Then another.

Guess not.

More sounds filled the air: stifled groans, wheezing moans, and wretched puking. I rose to my haunches. At least some of the goblins were still alive, but from the sounds of it, they weren’t doing too well.

“C-c-cooks, what have you done!” bellowed a voice, with both fury and pain choking his words. “Report! At ONCE!” It was the chief.

Damnit. I had been hopeful that the goblin leader at least wouldn’t have survived the darts’ toxins, but if anything he sounded haler than his followers.

My gaze drifted to the cauldrons. The four goblin workers were on the floor there, writhing in silent agony. It seemed like they too had partaken of breakfast.

I slipped out from under the table.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you!

“COOKS! Where are you!” the chief shouted again, his words half muffled. “Come here NOW!”

Silence was his only response. I drew my blades and raised my eyes to the dais. The two adult dire wolves had been chained to the throne. Metal collars draped the necks of both. Lying on their sides, with their eyes closed, both appeared unconscious. I would get no help from them. The goblin leader was curled over on his throne, with his head bowed in his hands.

The chief was vulnerable.

Instinct urged me to strike at him while he was distracted. I bit back the impulse. The stage was the most brightly-lit portion of the cavern. Even if I did manage to sneak up on the goblin leader and slay him before he detected me—which was unlikely—the other goblins could not fail to notice me thereafter.

My gaze dropped from the dais to rove over the rest of the hall. The warriors had scattered all over the cavern, seeking solitude to vent their suffering. I wrinkled my nose. The air was rancid with vomit and… worse things. Urgh. All the goblins had been afflicted, but not all of them were equally ill.

Despite their violent retching and sickened groans, many of the goblins were not senseless. I was sure they would act once I was revealed, and if I was not careful, they would overwhelm me with numbers alone.

Best to improve the odds before tackling the chief, I thought, and see to the demise of the weakest first. My gaze drifted to the four goblin workers. Starting with them.