Such things drove all else from his mind, the way a few months of summer will reduce the realities of winter to a vague memory of a bad dream.
But the dream was confused . . . something about it didn’t ring true, as though Nevana were part of a waking dream that so closely resembled reality, the two, to the untrained eye, were indistinguishable . . .
And the dream . . . or nightmare . . . was not yet over. He seemed to hear a scream, and almost stopped as he tried to decide; was it in his mind? or in the air? or-
‘Malina!’
Without realizing how it had happened, everything began moving forward in a mad rush. Without realizing how it had happened, he found that he had drawn his sword . . . vaguely he heard Pran’s warning . . . which was swiftly falling behind
There was some commotion that caught the Goblins’ attention, causing the big one’s sword-arm to falter in mid-stroke. The sound of the Elf-riders’ hooves was like thunder as they broke into a gallop. That pause was enough for Malina to yank up a turve, grab a double handful of dirt, and throw it into the Goblin’s eyes.
The moments its eyes were cleared of the stinging debris, the Goblin found itself staring into the battle-mad eyes of Ralph who swept down on the Goblin like an avalanche. With a savage yell, Ralph brought his own broadsword down on the Goblin’s, swinging it with both hands like a club. Their swords met in a shower of sparks, Ralph’s striking with such force that the Goblin was forced to retreat, holding its sword over its head to ward off Ralph’s blows, while trying to retain control over its companions. Seeing this, enraged, Ralph dismounted and attacked like a man possessed.