Twenty Four
Turning the Tables
Your Majesty,” Freedling said from the back of the room. Borlan stood in front of a mirror, primping himself for his coming breakfast with Mariah.
“I’m busy, Freedling.”
“Of course you are, sir, but this is of utmost importance.”
Borlan sighed. “What is it?”
“I attempted to secure an assault force of goblins, as you requested—”
“I get the feeling I’m not going to like that word, ‘attempted.’”
“That’s just it, sir.” Freedling wrung his hands together. “They’re offline.”
Borlan turned. “What do mean, offline?”
“I mean, every goblin outside of the city is no longer accepting commands.”
“Not accepting commands?” Borlan yelled. “Then what are they doing?”
“Walking, sir.”
“Freedling,” Borlan gritted his teeth. “If I have to prompt you for every detail
