Fool's Errand Read Online Free PDF

and the other nearly mid-chest were clear indicators to Thatcher’s keen eyes. This was another trap. While he waited for the others to catch up, he searched diligently for a control mechanism but found none.
    “Sorry, guys, but this is no gobbler rigged trap. This is precise and deadly work. Looks Durgak made, unless I miss my guess.” Seeing Duncan’s nodding head confirmed Thatcher’s assessment. “And worst news of all, there doesn’t seem to be a control box on this side.”
    “You fixed the others just fine, kid. Why is this one different?” Goldain’s sincere question echoed Gideon’s eyes.
    “Well, the gobbler traps were set on the way out as a way of protecting the hideout while they were out raiding. This one is designed to keep anyone from getting any further down this hallway. If this trap is active, whatever is past this is worth protecting. That also means at least one live gobbler up ahead who can disarm this. Of course, the other possibility is that it isn’t armed at all, but I can test that easily enough.”
    Thatcher slipped off his backpack and removed a length of thin, well-made rope. Securing the rope to one of the shoulder straps of his pack, he slid it down the hallway. Upon reaching a point twenty feet down the passage, the pack triggered a pressure plate in the floor. Rotating blades emerged from the slits in the wall. Had they walked down this hallway, none of the troop would now be any taller than Duncan, having been clipped above the neck and below the knees. Thatcher’s keen eyes spotted the flaw in the trap.
    “I think these blades were designed to be in synch, but for some reason it has become misaligned. The top blade is spinning slightly slower than the bottom. I think I can get through this gap.”
    Thatcher hauled his backpack to himself by the section of rope. As soon as the pack was off the pressure plate, the blades returned to their hidden resting place.
    “Thankfully, Durgak traps work fairly quietly, so hopefully, there are no surprises ahead, but the torches don’t show me much past the trap, so no idea what the corridor ahead looks like.”
    A voice startled them all and even drew Goldain’s and Gideon’s hands to the hilts of their swords before they realized it was Melizar who had silently caught up to the group.
    “The corridor turns sharply north just beyond the blade trap,” Melizar added matter-of-factly. “If there is indeed a Hobgoblin ahead, that would be the perfect place to attack anyone who cleverly slipped through,”
    Thatcher was not sure if he was more comforted or disturbed by Melizar’s visual acuity so far underground.
    “Okay then,” Thatcher continued, “you guys ready whatever ranged weapons you have because if there is a control box on this little contraption, it ain’t on this side. Aim quick and well. I am not getting through this trap with anything on me heavier than a dagger.”
    With that, Thatcher unslung his crossbow and dropped his hip quiver of quarrels. He unbuckled his longsword and laid it aside as well. Securing his tool belt close to his body and taking his single-edged boot knife in his teeth, he prepared himself for the feat ahead. He tossed a torch forward on the floor just before the place where the backpack had triggered the pressure plate. This would give enough light to see the blades.
    Suddenly and without further fanfare, Thatcher sprinted down the hallway. Even running at full sprint, he kept his well-trained eyes focused on the lower slit, from which he knew the leading blade would emerge. Upon reaching the pressure plate, the lower blade rocketed toward his knees with its upper companion close behind.
    Thatcher dove forward in a rolling tumble threading him between the spinning blades. His jump was slightly higher than intended, and he felt the upper blade scrape a layer or two from the back of his leather jerkin as it passed above him. Fortunately, it had not severed the tool belt strap slung across his