“Leave your studies, Krago. I wish to ask something.”

The cowl lifted, revealing blue eyes and a patch of fair hair. A surprisingly young face looked out from the hood. He closed the book with a snap and a spray of dust. Riverwind was intrigued to see a fellow human among the goblins and lizard men.

“What is it, Thouriss?” asked the young mage. His brows had lifted in surprise at the sight of the humans and elf girl, but his attention quickly returned to the lizard commander.

“What is the reason for affection between warm-blooded creatures?” asked the commander. “Why does it happen?”

Krago sighed. “We talked about this before.” He shifted the heavy book in his arms. “Humans, elves, dwarves, gnomes, and kender all form attachments to others who have traits that complement their own.”

The commander looked perplexed. “What traits could there be between a plainsman and an elven girl?”

Krago walked to Thouriss, his sandaled feet kicking out from under his faded clerical robes. “Reason it out, as I taught you,” he said.

Riverwind listened to the exchange between the human and the reptilian commander with great interest. There seemed to be some odd bond between the two.

Thouriss's eyes widened. “Males attach to females in order to breed.”

“Not likely here,” Krago observed. “Consider the age difference.”

“Immature warm-bloods arouse feelings of protectiveness in adults. This is the motherly instinct in females, the fatherly instinct in males.” Thouriss studied Riverwind curiously, as if he could see this trait in his face. “You feel like the girl's father?”

Riverwind set Di An on her feet. He gestured to Catchflea to come forward and stand by him. The old man, with a glance at the goblin guards, did so. “We are friends and companions,” Riverwind said. “Nothing, more or less.”

“This is interesting!” Thouriss exclaimed. “I believe I shall study them a while.”

The young cleric was already buried in his book again. “That's a military matter,” he murmured. “Do as you like.”

“What would a civilized person do next?” asked the commander.

“Invite us to dinner,” Catchflea said quickly.

Thouriss grinned, showing needlelike fangs. “Excellent! You shall all dine with me-you too, Krago.”

“But my work-”

“Oblige me!” was the sharp reply. Krago looked up and shrugged.

“At what hour?” he asked.

“The sixth.” To the guards, Thouriss said, “Take them to the Court of Reception. I will send for them shortly.”

The goblins flanked the trio and marched them out again. They turned right off the plaza, crossed the stream by means of a plank bridge, and entered a narrower street that paralleled the main one.

“Do you see what I see?” Riverwind said under his breath.

“I do, yes,” said Catchflea. Suspended in the air in front of them was a pot-an enormous pot, hanging by a stout chain. The chain ran up and up, until it vanished in the darkness of the cavern ceiling.

“What is it?” asked Di An.

“A hoist, I believe,” said Catchflea. “A way out, yes?”

“If we are lucky.”

The hoist was secured some eight feet off the ground, no doubt to keep gully dwarves from meddling with it. River-wind sized up the pot. It should hold the three of them. Now, how to reach it?

“Here you stay. Commander calls, later.” The goblins took up positions around the circular courtyard. River-wind, Catchflea, and Di An sat down under the hanging pot.

“What do you make of all this?” Riverwind asked quietly. “Who are these lizard folk?”

“Mercenaries of some sort, yes. Thouriss and Krago are different. Did you notice how Thouriss is in command, yet he asks Krago questions about the simplest things?”

“He is a bully,” Di An said flatly. “A big, overgrown bully.”

After a time, Shanz, the lizard officer, summoned them.

A table covered by a snow-white cloth was set up amid the stumps of the broken palace columns. Heavy silver candleholders sprouted from the table, the candle flames flickering in the constant breeze off the three waterfalls. Five mismatched place settings of gold and silver were laid. Krago was already there, book open on his lap. His hood was pushed back, revealing a mane of unruly, red-blond hair. He couldn't have been more than a few years older than Riverwind.

He looked up briefly when the three approached. “Sit anywhere you like,” he said, waving a hand. “But leave the head of the table for Thouriss.”

Riverwind and Di An sat on one side, while Catchflea slipped in beside the young cleric. Krago paid them no heed, but remained absorbed in his book.

Catchflea fidgeted for a time, trying to remain mannered. He glanced at the leather-bound book that so absorbed Krago, but the writing looked like Ergothic and he didn't understand it. The old man did at last pour himself a goblet of wine. It was dark, heavy, red wine, which only increased his hunger pangs.

Thouriss swept in, wrapped in a scarlet and silver cape. He flung this off dramatically.

Without tail or wings, his entire appearance and carriage was more manlike than his tall but slightly stooped officers. This was all the more eerie.

“I am late,” he said superfluously. “I had to see to the start of a new task.”

“What task, Commander?” Catchflea inquired politely.

“I know you were helped by a gully dwarf in your attempt to escape the city. My warriors have begun a search for the one who helped you.”

Riverwind felt the blood drain from his face. “What do you intend?”

“He will be executed, of course, as an example.”

Catchflea said quickly, “You may not catch him.” He fervently hoped Brud had made it safely home to his wife.

“The lesson must be taught,” Thouriss said. A goblin brought a bowl of steaming water. Thouriss dipped his dusty, taloned fingers in the bowl. “If we don't seize the actual dwarf, I shall take hostages and hang them instead.”

Catchflea, Riverwind, and Di An exchanged horrified looks but remained silent. Thouriss finished cleaning his hands and dried them on a towel also carried by his goblin servant. He looked up at them.

Before the commander could speak, Catchflea interjected a question. “Who are you?” he asked. “You are newcomers to this land, yes?”

“Not quite. In fact, I was born here,” replied Thouriss.

“Here?”

“Xak Tsaroth. Wasn't I, Krago?”

“Hmm? Yes, you were.”

A pair of goblins tramped in, laden with covered trays of food. Riverwind was quite surprised when the cover was whisked away, revealing an excellent haunch of venison, well roasted. Trays on the other end of the table held fruit and vegetables, most raw and unpeeled. Krago marked the page he was reading and shut his book. He took grapes and pears from the tray and cut the latter into neat quarters. Thouriss dragged the venison haunch in front of him and lowered his head to bite.

“Guests are served first,” said Krago quietly.

Thouriss froze. He closed his wicked jaws slowly, pulled a knife from his belt, and carved the haunch. He cut slices for Riverwind, Catchflea, and Di An. Krago didn't eat meat, he explained. Then, for himself, Thouriss cut fist-sized chunks of meat and swallowed them whole, causing large bulges to appear in his neck until the meat passed out of his throat. It was both fascinating and repulsive to witness.

When the deer's leg bones were picked clean, Thouriss sat back and folded his hands across his belly. “Tell me,” he said, “how is it you come to be here?”

Riverwind was ready for this. He said, “We entered a cave in the Forsaken Mountains and got lost. Trying to find our way out, we emerged in the mine below Xak Tsaroth.” It wasn't a lie, even if he had left out a great deal.

Thouriss stared at him. His direct gaze discomforted Riverwind. It seemed the commander could sense that his story was not quite right.

“What is it you are mining for?” asked Catchflea quickly.