Isle Of View (24 page)

Jenny shuddered. “They are mean folk.”

“Goblins generally are mean folk,” Godiva said. “This dates from a long time ago, when a curse was put on us so that the women preferred the worst of men. This resulted in a degenerating species, at least with respect to the male persuasion. That curse was finally eliminated, so that now we can choose good men, but there is great inertia.”

“Great what?”

“Things are slow to change. This is because there are so few good men of our kind that we are constrained to pick the marginally less bad. It will be a long and frustrating climb back to decency, and I suspect that some tribes will not make it.”

“Like the horde,” Jenny said, understanding.

“Yes. The goblins of the mountain are not that bad, but remain bad enough. My husband, Gouty, does have certain qualities of leadership, though he does his best to conceal them. But he has done this tribe one signal favor, though he does not see it that way. He sired as his legitimate heir no male.”

Jenny's brow furrowed. “You do not choose your chiefs according to who is best?”

“We do not. The son of the chief will be the next chief. That is one reason I married Gouty: he was the son of a chief. My mother, Goldy, married a lesser chief, one high in the hierarchy but not the leader. She was beautiful, but it was the magic wand that gave her extra appeal, because it enhanced the power of her husband. She passed it on to me so that I could nab a full chief. Thus my son would have been the next chief. Only Gouty dissipated his waning energy with mistresses and lost his ability to summon the stork before providing me with a son. So Gwendolyn is heir to the chiefship and has the chance to improve things greatly in this tribe, because, of course, the goblin women have always been everything the goblin men are not: intelligent, attractive, and decent."

Jenny had seen the difference between Godiva and the goblin males. She had no argument. “So that's good, then.”

“I see you still do not appreciate the difficulties. Perhaps there is no concept of infidelity among your people. Do you know what a mistress is?”

“A person who is in charge of something or very good in her work,” Jenny said promptly.

Godiva nodded sadly. “I do not like doing this, but I must encroach on the tenets of the Adult Conspiracy in order to make something clear to you. It is forbidden to tell a child how to summon the stork, along with certain related matters. This is why Che Centaur, who is a male child, is forbidden to see your panties.”

“But what do panties have to do with storks?” Jenny asked, bewildered.

“I may not answer that. Just accept the fact that no male of any age may see any woman's panties, with the single dubious exception of his wife's. This is not merely goblin protocol, it is Xanth protocol. As for the storks: they bring babies, and no child is permitted to know the mechanism by which the stork is signaled for this purpose.”

“But this seems like nonsense to me!” Jenny protested. “Where I come from, there are no—”

“You are not where you came from,” Godiva reminded her.

Jenny nodded, realizing that there were whole hosts of ways in which she was ignorant of the ways of this land.

“So I will merely advise you that a mistress, in the sense I am addressing, is a woman who consents to signal the stork with a man who is not her husband.” Godiva frowned, and Jenny could see that this was no pleasant matter for her. ”My husband indulged himself with several of these women, and the stork, being blind to propriety, brought sons to two of them. These are known as illegitimate offspring, and their place in our society is secondary. But in the absence of a legitimate heir to the chiefship, the older boy would become eligible."

Jenny began to get a glimmer. “You mean, if Gwendolyn wasn't—?”

“If Gwendolyn did not qualify, she would be dispatched, and the boy would assume the chiefship after Gouty.”

“Dispatched?”

“The tribe will need a chief. If the leading candidate is not qualified, she must be eliminated so that a better candidate can be considered.”

“Eliminated?” Jenny was still missing something.

“Killed.”

Jenny gazed at the woman in horror. The way of goblins was abruptly coming clear. “And if she can't see well—”

Godiva nodded grimly. “A lame chief might be tolerated; after all, Gouty does not walk well. But a blind one would be out of the question. Unless she compensated so well that it made no difference. Spectacles could compensate, but that would not be allowed.”

“And a centaur companion would compensate,” Jenny said, seeing it. “But why a winged one?”

“That was coincidental. Most centaurs are in Centaur Isle, and there is no hope of getting one from there. They hardly deign to associate with non-isle centaurs or with human beings, and have no truck at all with goblins. Most remaining centaurs live in villages and guard their premises diligently. Che was alone. He was the only one we could reach who was young enough to be trained. The fact that when he matures he will be able to fly is a bonus; Gwendolyn could achieve real success among goblins with such a steed. That can certainly be presented as a rationale for his presence. But the real reason is to compensate for Gwendolyn's sight. With such a creature at her side, no matter how young, she can participate actively in goblin affairs and demonstrate her competence. That will not only enable her to become chief, it will save her life.”

Jenny now saw why Godiva had made such a great effort to abduct the foal. Her daughter's life and fate were at stake! Still, she wanted to be quite sure she understood, because she would have to tell Che about this and her own judgment had to be sure. “If one of those other goblins becomes chief, will it make the tribe more like—like—?”

“Like the Goblinate of the Golden Horde? Indeed. You will have a chance to meet that other prospect for the chief-ship in due course. But if a woman assumes charge, there will be much improvement. This would be true for any woman, but Gwendolyn is the only one who has the chance, because she is the chief's daughter. There will be considerable resistance to that, because there has never before been a female chief, but with the centaur and the wand I believe she can succeed.”

“Why—why can't you become chief?”

“I am not the daughter of the chief, only of a subchief. I am the wife of the chief, but when he dies I will be only a widow, which is no qualification. Only Gwendolyn can do it.”

Jenny had seen enough already to be satisfied that what Godiva had in mind was best for her tribe, and probably best for all the creatures in the vicinity of the tribe. “I will tell Che,” she said.

“Thank you. Remember, he must agree, as you have, not to reveal Gwendolyn's liabilities. I will move both of you to this suite when he agrees to listen. His decision will be a separate matter; such a thing is not lightly undertaken by a centaur, and we must have his word. When he gives it, he will be completely free, for there is no binding as firm as a centaur's word.”

“Um, could I—could I see Gwendolyn?” Jenny asked. “I will tell Che, but it would be better if I could tell him how Gwendolyn is, if he asks. I mean, if he has to decide whether to be with her—”

“Of course.” Godiva got up and walked to a door in the wall, not the one through which they had entered. She opened it and ushered Jenny through.

Beyond was another chamber, decorated with girlish things. There were pictures of trees and flowers and animals and clouds. There were cushions. There was a feather bed, and on it lay a beautiful goblin child, asleep. Her dark hair spread out against the pillow and around to form a kind of coverlet. It was obvious she was Godiva's daughter.

“Gwenny,” Godiva said gently.

Jenny felt a start, for that version of the name was so similar to her own. But of course it was the nickname for Gwendolyn, just as hers was for Jennifer.

The eyelids flickered. Gwenny woke and looked up. “Hello, mother,” she murmured.

“This is Jenny Elf, who may become your companion,” Godiva said.

Gwenny sat up, blinking. “Hello, Jenny Elf. I did not see you.” She extended her hand in the general direction of Jenny.

Jenny took it and squeezed it for just a moment. “I just wanted to say hello,” she said. "I did not mean to disturb your sleep.”

“That's all right. It wasn't much of a sleep.”

Jenny found herself liking Gwenny Goblin. That was dangerous, because she had to be objective. “Maybe I'll see you in the morning,” she said, backing away.

“I'd like that,” Gwenny agreed. She lay down again and closed her eyes.

Jenny went out the door, and then Godiva took her back to the bare chamber where Che remained. “I will talk to him,” she said.

“I will wait a moment outside,” Godiva said. “If he agrees to listen, knock, and I will convey you both to the other suite.”

Jenny entered. Che smiled as he saw her. “Sammy found my confidence!” he exclaimed. “I feel much better now!”

“How did he do that?” Jenny asked, amazed. She had not realized that such a thing could be found in that way.

"I asked him, and he came and rubbed against my leg and purred, and my confidence was back. He must have brought it.”

Oh. Sammy had done that for Jenny in the past. She just hadn't seen it quite that way. “Che, I have talked to Godiva. She—please, I think you should listen to her. You don't have to make her deal, just agree not to tell.”

He looked at her. “If you tell me, I will listen.”

“I will tell you. But first we must go to a more comfortable chamber.” She knocked on the door.

It opened. Jenny led Che out, and Sammy came along, knowing that something was up. Without words they filed into the suite. “Food will be delivered if you ask,” Godiva said as she closed the door behind them. “I will come when you ask for me, perhaps in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Jenny said.

Sammy promptly found a suitable cushion and settled down for the rest of his orange snooze. Che stood for a moment and looked around, plainly awed. “I did not realize that goblins had such accommodations.”

“They do for princesses, or whatever,” Jenny said. She saw that he was tired, so she decided to abbreviate the discussion. “Let me tell you the essence now, and in the morning I'll tell you as much else as I know, if you want.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Remember, you must not tell anyone else, regardless what you decide about the deal she offers.”

“Of course. I did not want to be compromised by something extraneous, but since you have ascertained that it is not, I accept the terms.”

“She wants you to be the companion for her daughter, Gwenny, who will be the next chief if you help her, and will die if you don't—because she's lame and mostly blind. A female chief would try to make this a better tribe.”

Che had evidently been braced for something of significance, but this surprised him. “But females aren't goblin chiefs!” he protested.

“This one can be, with your help.”

He pondered. “What kind of person is this goblin girl?”

"I saw her only briefly. She's sleeping in the next chamber. She seemed nice, but of course I don't really know her.”

“Perhaps I can see her.”

“Oh, I don't think the door would be unlocked.” Jenny said, trying it. It opened. She stared at it, dumbfounded. How could Godiva be so trusting?

They entered. There by the dim light of the torch lay Gwenny Goblin, lovely in her sleep.

“She is very like you,” Che said.

“Oh, no, she's—” But Jenny caught herself. “She is my age and size, but of course her ears are round and she has five fingers.”

“These hardly matter.” He retreated, his hooves landing very lightly so as not to wake the girl.

They returned to their own chamber and closed the door. “This alters the complexion,” he said. “I must consider.” Then he settled down on the carpeted floor, leaned against the carpeted wall, and went to sleep.

Jenny gathered cushions and formed a bed beside him. She lay on it, and the light of morning woke her. She had not even been aware of falling asleep. She had been so tired, but now felt much refreshed. She blinked and stretched, and one hand encountered something furry and warm. Oh, yes, that was Che Centaur. He—

She blinked again. Morning? How could that be, way down here in the anthill?

She sat up and saw that the light was coming from an alcove. It seemed to be a well, with the chamber at the bottom, so that the light could come down. She saw that its sides were shiny, so that the light reflected. How nice! She had not noticed it at all in the night, but of course then it had been dark and would have looked like just a blank niche.

By daylight the room was brighter and nicer than it had seemed by torchlight, and it had seemed nice enough then. This was evidently Gwenny's playroom that they were sharing.

Gwenny! Was she still there? Jenny walked to the door between chambers, but hesitated. It wasn't her place to disturb the chief's daughter, after all. Besides which, she had something to do.

She explored the chamber, and found a curtained compartment with a shiny stone surface, a basin, a crock of water, a sponge, two brushes, and a pot with a lid. She picked up the pot and sniffed it, then wrinkled her nose in disgust. That was what she was looking for, all right. She used the pot, then put the lid back on. Then she used the water and basin and sponge to clean herself again, getting rid of the faint lines of grime that had escaped her before. She brushed her hair, working out the tangles that had sneaked back in overnight. Not only did she feel better, she now felt quite good.

She stepped out of the curtained alcove. Sammy was up, and pacing the floor. Oh.

She went to the outer door and knocked. In a moment the bar lifted and it opened. A goblin face peeked in.

“Oh, Moron!” Jenny said, recognizing him. At first all goblins had looked alike to her, but that was passing. “Can you get us a box of dirt?”

He seemed surprised. “Not cookies?”

She laughed. “Not to eat, silly! For Sammy.” Then she reconsidered. “But bring some cookies too, or whatever is good for breakfast. For two.” She re-reconsidered. “For three. And a dead rat, if you have one.” For she realized that Sammy might not have much luck hunting, down here. Actually she wasn't sure what Sammy ate, because she never saw the results of his hunting.