Riddle in Stone (The Riddle in Stone Series - Book One) by Robert Evert Page B

would think.”
    “Quite possibly. Quite possibly.”
    “Still,” Gurding went on, “I believe you’re right. It won’t make much of a meal for both of us, not after it is skinned, gutted, and deboned.”
    “No, indeed, Mr. Gurding.” Kravel mused. “I do believe I overestimated its size during my first assessment of the creature.”
    The two goblins stared into the darkness. Thorax continued snarling.
    “I’ll tell you what I am prepared to do, Mr. Gurding. I’ll make you a bit of a wager. Whomever strikes the animal with the killing blow gets to eat the miserable thing.”
    Do something!
    “The entire animal?”
    “Of course. It wouldn’t be much of a wager with us splitting the reward for the winner’s effort, now would it?”
    “That’s very generous of you, given that I’m far more accurate with knives and all. Now had we our bows handy, I would have given you the advantage.”
    “Perhaps, perhaps. But I think your recent string of successes have made you a tad overconfident. However, time will tell. Are you ready?” Kravel positioned his knife in his fingers, ready to throw.
    “P-p-put . . . those . . . d-d-d-down,” Edmund said in as commanding a voice as he could muster.
    Turning, the goblins found Edmund with his short sword drawn. It was shaking.
    “Interesting twist of events,” Gurding said to Kravel.
    “Interesting, indeed. But not completely unexpected.”
    “P-p-p-p-p . . . ”
    “Put?” Kravel suggested.
    “I’m afraid he’s going to be rather frustrating to interrogate,” said Gurding. “I wonder if he hit his head at some point. Perhaps when he was a child.”
    “Now Mr. Gurding, let’s be pleasant. Our friend here is about to make a decision that will undoubtedly alter the course of his life for a very long time, or at least until it comes to its eventual conclusion. Let’s not sully the moment for him.”
    “P-p-put, put . . . y-y-y . . . ”
    “Yes, yes. You want us to put our weapons down. We understand,” Kravel said. “Unfortunately for you, I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen. I will, however, propose a deal. You can concede defeat and give us your weapon, in which case we’ll take you prisoner and turn you over to the Questioners. They are not pleasant people, as a rule, you understand. Rather obnoxious and overpaid as a matter of fact. However, you will be alive, and you can dream about eventually escaping.”
    “You might even die of old age,” Gurding offered in an optimistic tone. “Though that might not be too far off judging from the looks of you.”
    “Or,” Kravel went on, taking little notice of his companion, “you can choose either Mr. Gurding or myself in a fight to the death. If you select this option, I would suggest you opt for Mr. Gurding. He’s not as skilled as he believes himself to be.”
    “That isn’t exactly a polite thing to say,” Gurding replied. “You wound me.”
    “My apologies. Allow me to rephrase. Of the two of us, my colleague, Mr. Gurding here, is less skilled than I am in the matters of lethal combat with a blade.”
    “I’m not too sure that I like that either.”
    “Th . . . Th . . . Thorax!” Edmund called out. The snarling in the stairwell subsided. “Do, do, do, do what I tell you. Okay, girl? Do, do what I s-s-say.”
    “It’s a girl?” Gurding said to Kravel.
    Kravel shrugged.
    “I-I-I want, I want you, I want you to run. Run. Go. Go now. Run!”
    “I’m terribly sorry,” Kravel said. “We can’t allow that to happen. Mr. Gurding, if you please.”
    “Right.” Before Edmund could say anything, Gurding spun and threw his knife into the blackness behind him. Thorax cried out, a pain-ridden howl that tore into Edmund’s heart.
    Edmund screamed. “Run! Run! Go. Run. Get out of here!”
    “Did you succeed, Mr. Gurding?”
    “Well enough, I suspect. Solid thigh strike. She won’t go very far. We can track her after we finish up here, if you wish. Or we can let her die on her own in an