Mynx stood irresolutely. Then a crow squawked over shy;head, and she rushed after Tarscenian.

She caught up with Tarscenian at the edge of a clear shy;ing, bounded in slender logs like a corral. But inside milled, not horses, but fifty or so people. Mynx recog shy;nized some of them-including the mayor's wife and her four children.

It was from this crowd of captives that the chorus of muffled sobs, entreaties, and shouts arose. A dozen hob shy;goblins stood guard outside the fence, and another dozen goblins patrolled the inside of the corral, helping to keep the people packed in a tight circle.

Mynx and Tarscenian hid in the underbrush of honey shy;suckle vines and maple saplings, observing the scene.

Unlike their goblin cousins, who rarely exceeded four feet in height, hobgoblins reached six feet and higher. These beasts were dark gray, with red faces and yellow eyes and teeth. They carried swords, spears, whips, and shields. Mismatched metal armor protected their shoul shy;ders, arms, and shins. Leather armor covered their tor shy;sos.

Most of the hobgoblins called to each other in gibber shy;ish. However, two spoke to each other and to their cap shy;tives in a rough form of Abanasinian. Both carried bows. "Sergeant," one said. "We ready move." "We go when I say," the leader snapped back. "Not enough yet. Wait for more."

"But gets late," the first protested. "Won't get far 'fore sun downs, set camp." The leader responded without a word by pulling a

dagger and pointing it at the other. The reluctant one slunk away, mumbling, around to the other side of the corral.

One of the captives, a young man, broke loose from the knot of humans and goblins and tried to vault over the log fence. The sergeant calmly lifted his bow and shot the youth in the chest.

"Shoulda paid taxes, fool," the sergeant remarked. "Wouldn' be here then." He gestured to the goblins, who swarmed over the body.

Mynx hid her face in her hands, and Tarscenian put a gentle arm around her shoulder. "We must help them, Mynx/' he whispered.

She lifted her head. "The two of us against two dozen goblins and hobgoblins? Are you crazy?"

"All these people did was refuse to pay Hederick's taxes," Tarscenian replied, voice low.

"What do I care? Thieves don't pay taxes."

"Don't you see what's happening? They're being sold into slavery, Mynx!"

"Not one would lift a finger for me. We're outnum shy;bered, old man."

"There are fifty people in that ring, at least thirty of them strong men and women. Plus we're armed. That's not being outnumbered."

"And you think those two-legged sheep will stand with you against hobgoblins?" Mynx laughed out loud. The nearest monster looked over its shoulder into the greenery, frowning, pointed ears atwitch.

"There's only one way to find out." Tarscenian rushed out of the underbrush, sword at the ready. Without warning, the old man slipped the blade under the hob shy;goblin's arm and sank it into its rib cage. The creature bellowed and went down, arms and legs churning.

"Hejami, Tycom, Gret!" the sergeant called to three of his men. "Attack!" The rest of the force remained around

the slaves. In a moment, Tarscenian was surrounded by three spear-wielding hobgoblins. Mynx watched from the underbrush, barely breathing. She'd stay right here; she didn't owe the stupid old man anything.

The blue-nosed one called Hejami closed first with Tarscenian. The others held back, poking each other and smiling. They didn't seem to think it would be much of a battle-a full-grown hobgoblin against a tuft-haired beg shy;gar-although the beggar did wield that sword with some assurance. The hobgoblin Hejami jabbed at the man with his spear.

Tarscenian dodged, feinting, and the hobgoblin leaped after him. Tarscenian doubled back and struck. Hejami fell, lifeless, to the ground, blood from his nearly severed neck soaking the ground.

The other two launched themselves at Tarscenian at the same instant. Tarscenian parried and whirled. As he held off the hobgoblins, he called out to the captives. "Join with me! We can outfight them."

None of the prisoners moved. If anything, they huddled even closer together. "They might hurt us!" one of the women called.

"Don't listen to him," a man counseled his fellow slaves. "He's a beggar. We're worth more to the hobgob shy;lins if we're healthy. They won't hurt us as long as we cooperate with them."

Another woman called, "It's easy for you to order us to help, old man, but we have children to think about!"

Although Tarscenian brandished the sword as though the weapon were part of him, horror grew on his face.

"You old fool," Mynx whispered from the honey shy;suckle vines. "I told y-"

Then she was dangling in the air, grabbed around the middle by the largest hobgoblin she'd ever seen. Its laughing grimace exposed yellow teeth and a slimy red tongue. The monster jabbered something, then hoisted her over one shoulder, all the while howling with glee. "You big overgrown…"

She kicked wildly, hoping to catch the beast in the face. Hanging head-downward over his back, she had an excellent view of the dagger she'd dropped, but not much room to maneuver.

The creature swaggered over to the other hobgoblins. "New slave!" the creature crowed.

The arms around Mynx's waist tightened suddenly, and she heard a screech from her captor. Then she was falling. In her years as a thief, Mynx had dived out of many windows-most often with enraged homeowners close behind her-and knew how to land on her feet. She caught herself lightly with her hands, then threw herself over into a somersault and rolled away from the dying, gabbling hobgoblin.

Tarscenian pulled his sword from the creature's middle. He grabbed Mynx by the arm, hauled her to her feet. Then they were off and running, dodging around the other hob shy;goblin corpses and leaving the slave market behind.

A pair of hobgoblins and three goblins pursued them along the path. As Mynx and Tarscenian swept around a curve, Tarscenian shouldered her to one side and began to chant. "What are you doing?" Mynx cried, trying to break free.

"Be still!" Tarscenian snapped. "Yessupot siagod idae." His hands fluttered. He sketched an outline around Mynx from foot to head and back down again to the for shy;est floor. Then he pushed the thief into a bush, crushed a silver aspen leaf between the fingers of his left hand, and shouted, "Nilad ur'sht, yjod wraren, sar ytakreryt." He dived after the real Mynx. A lifelike version of the thief raced down the path just as the pursuers hove into view. "You take it the female!" one of the hobgoblins hollered, pointing to the magic-induced Mynx vanishing down the trail. The other hobgoblin and one of the goblins raced

after her. That left one hobgoblin and two goblins beating the underbrush in the immediate vicinity.

Tarscenian shoved the hilt of his dagger into Mynx's hand. "This time," he whispered, "try not to drop it."

Then he was gone, attacking with an intensity that far belied his years. He dispatched one of the goblins before the creature could raise a squeak, but the other goblin managed a cry.

"Go get it, more fool!" the hobgoblin yelled at the gob shy;lin. "Is order, verminstink!"

The last goblin hurtled at Tarscenian without pause. It found itself facing two weapons-Tarscenian's sword and Mynx's dagger. Yellow-orange eyes blinking spas shy;modically, it glanced at Mynx, then at the corpse of its comrade and, frantically, down the path where the other, magical Mynx had gone.

Then it raced away, abandoning the field to the hob shy;goblin chief.

The monster clutched a sword in its right hand, a spear in its left. Tarscenian saw immediately that he and Mynx faced a creature well versed in combat.

"How close are we to the ring's den?" he hissed to Mynx. Tarscenian slurred his words, hoping the hobgob shy;lin wouldn't understand him. He and Mynx circled the creature.