CHAPTER 3. THE INVISIBLE WATCHERS

While Mor, Vuk, and Nuk were making their way to the potato field, two goblins were hiding at the edge of the forest, beneath the trees. They had come there to get a look at the meadow, but the tall grass made it hard for them to see anything.
One of them grew tired of struggling with it, and stood up, keeping himself hidden behind a thick tree trunk. Now, through the branches, he could look around — with some difficulty — and see the ones whose voices had been reaching them.
“Well, what’s out there?” asked the one still lying down.
“So far I only see goblins by the fields — I haven’t found what we’re after yet. Everything’s different here than back home. The forest’s thicker, and the grass in the meadow’s taller. We’ll either need to get closer, or climb higher.”
“Getting closer is risky. We could be spotted. Don’t forget, Uruk, goblins have sharp eyes. Climbing a tree, though — that we can probably manage,” the lying goblin said, and added, “Get down for now. The last thing we need is for someone to see you. Then we’d have to clear out of here. And I’d rather not go home empty-handed. Our Warden wouldn’t like that one bit.”
“All right, Dagul. But how are we going to do this, exactly?” Uruk asked, crouching back down.
The goblin named Dagul turned and pointed to two tall trees growing nearby. He’d noticed them earlier, on the way here. They rose above the rest of the trees, thick with leaves, and grew right beside one another.
If we ever need to watch the surrounding country, we won’t find a better spot than that, he’d thought at the time.
And now, that very need had come.
“Are we climbing, then?” Uruk asked, without much enthusiasm.
No, it wasn’t that he was clumsy, or afraid of heights. If Dagul had given the order, he would have climbed without a moment’s hesitation. But Uruk considered trees to be his own personal curse.
It had all started back in his childhood, when for no reason at all he’d broken a young sapling growing in their yard. He’d been scolded for a long time afterward and told that, given enough years, that tree would have grown tall, given shade, and shielded the house from the summer heat. Uruk had even tried to make up for it by planting the broken trunk back in the ground. But the little tree had withered all the same.
Ever since then, it was as though every tree took its revenge on him. The moment Uruk tried to climb one, he was bound to fall.
Naturally, he never told anyone about this. A goblin who’d grown up in the forest and couldn’t climb a tree would simply have been laughed at.
Uruk was convinced that the forest itself was punishing him for that old offense. But right now, the decision wasn’t his to make.
“Yes, we’re climbing. First, though, we’re using this.”
Dagul reached into his bag and pulled out a small pouch. Inside was a green powder.
“Where’d you get that?” Uruk asked, eyeing the contents of the pouch with suspicion.
“The Warden gave it to me. Said it would make us the least noticeable spies in the whole forest. The powder’s green, so we’ll turn green too. Not even the sharpest goblin eye would spot us. Pity I didn’t think of it yesterday.”
“Well, well. So our Warden has some kind of special knowledge, does he. There’s no way this wasn’t done with sorcery,” Uruk said with conviction, thoroughly satisfied that his suspicions had been confirmed.
“I doubt the Warden made the powder himself. It’s more likely the work of his Counselor — that crafty old man Torul. If you ask me, that head of his is packed with knowledge right to the top. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he turned out to be a real sorcerer. All right, enough chatting. Time to get to work.”
With that, Dagul poured out a good handful of the powder for himself and for Uruk, and both of them set to work rubbing it thoroughly into their skin.
The process turned out to take a while. Both goblins, it must be said, regarded the powder with a certain wariness. Neither had ever seen anything like it before. Nor had either of them ever come across a green goblin, for that matter.
By the time they were finished, the two of them really did nearly blend into the surrounding greenery. And if anyone had happened to spot them among the trees, they would have taken them for some unknown forest creature far sooner than for goblins.
“I hope we’re not stuck like this forever? It does wash off, doesn’t it?” Uruk asked anxiously, looking himself and Dagul over. “I wouldn’t want to be caught looking like this by just anyone. They’d start hunting us next. And what if they decide we’re cursed? I don’t even want to think what they’d do to us then.”
“Relax. The Warden said the powder washes off easily with water. On the way back we’ll dunk ourselves in the river, and we’ll be ordinary goblins again. Now let’s climb.”
Dagul pointed toward the trees.
Picking one of them, he grabbed hold of the lowest branch, pulled himself up in one swift motion, and was already at the top. Then he slipped nimbly between the thin branches, reached the next thick one, and was already searching with his eyes for the next handhold.
He moved so quickly and so surely that the branches beneath him barely stirred at all.
Uruk watched with envy as Dagul practically flew up the tree.
He had no intention of falling behind.
But mindful of his own long and painful history, he clung to every branch with both hands. Before pulling himself up, he made absolutely sure to test its strength first, then shoved off hard with his legs. Because of this, the branches sagged and swayed noticeably under him.
Even so, Uruk was quite pleased with himself. For once, he hadn’t slipped, and so far he hadn’t broken a single branch either.
Meanwhile, Dagul looked around and decided there was no need to climb any higher. From this height, everything lay spread out before him like the palm of his hand. He stopped, looked down, and couldn’t help feeling a jolt of horror. Every branch Uruk touched swayed like a blade of grass in a gust of wind. Uruk himself, though, didn’t seem the least bit troubled by this, and kept right on scrambling up in the same fashion.
“You idiot! Climb more carefully. From down there it looks like a green bear’s climbing this tree. You’re going to get us spotted,” Dagul said quietly, though his face made it clear that inside, he was shouting at the top of his lungs.
Uruk froze, not sure what to do next. He could hardly admit that simply not falling out of a tree was, for him, already a tremendous achievement. After hesitating on the branch a moment, he pressed on upward. It took him quite a while to reach Dagul’s level. By now, the frightened goblin was moving very cautiously indeed.
At last he made it to a suitable branch, and before he’d even properly settled onto it, he started talking in a rush:
“I get it, Dagul. I’ll climb down very carefully, and I won’t disturb a single little branch. You’ll see. Just don’t be angry. Nothing terrible happened, after all. Look, no one’s come running — so no one spotted us.”
“First of all, not us — you. Second of all, shut up,” Dagul cut him off roughly.
Uruk fell obediently silent, perfectly aware that Dagul was in charge here, and that arguing wasn’t worth it.
“Let’s have a look around,” Dagul said, more calmly now.
Uruk looked out into the distance. From such a height, the fields and the goblins working in them were easy to see. He couldn’t make out every single one, of course. But three goblins were laboring in the nearest field, and one of them stood out in particular. He was stout, and had a downright fiery-red head.
Then Uruk shifted his gaze to another field. Four goblins were working there. Two of them were easier to make out than the rest. Or rather, what stood out best of all were their big bellies.
He gave the rest of the fields a quick once-over as well. Though by now they held nothing more than passing curiosity for him. He’d never had occasion to visit the lands of the Bignoses before. In fact, he’d never traveled far from home at all. The goblinum they’d set out from lay very far from here — tucked away in the very northeastern corner of the forest. Goblins from elsewhere rarely appeared there, and their own goblins ventured out even more rarely still. Even the other goblinums of their own clan lay some distance away.
“I think I’ve found what we need. Look to the right of the fields. See that bare patch in the meadow, with no grass? Those are our anthills,” Dagul said, pointing off into the distance.
Uruk looked more closely and made out a great many dark little mounds on the clearing. These were exactly what they’d been looking for. Yesterday, near the neighboring goblinum, they hadn’t managed to find anything like it. But today luck had smiled on them, which meant they wouldn’t have to make the rounds of the two remaining Bignose goblinums.
Strange, Uruk thought. From here, they look like perfectly ordinary anthills. Though no — I’ve never seen so many anthills gathered in one place before. Just like our own goblinum. Except with them, every single anthill is its own separate house. So what could be so valuable about them, then?
Dagul, meanwhile, kept staring intently at the clearing. It seemed to Uruk that he was trying to count the anthills.
“Listen, there are anthills near our goblinum too. Not as many, granted. So what’s different about these ones? Seems to me all ants are the same — tiny little bugs. Step on one and you wouldn’t even notice,” Uruk said, honestly puzzled.
“Don’t rush things. You’ll find out soon enough. For now, let’s just wait for the Bignoses to finish their work. Keep watching.”
They didn’t speak again after that. They watched the working goblins in silence, now and then shifting their gaze to the anthills, or to the distant goblinum. But even sharp goblin eyesight wasn’t enough to make it out properly. From this far off, all that could be seen were small dark shapes moving about.
That was how the invisible watchers spent the entire day. Hungry, worn out from sitting on branches, and exhausted by having nothing to do, they waited impatiently for the industrious Bignoses to finally head home.
And at last, the long-awaited moment came.
The last of the goblins were leaving the fields, ambling unhurriedly toward the road that led into the goblinum.
So now we know no one’s left in the fields by evening. Good. That gives us more time, Dagul thought.
Uruk wasn’t thinking about anything of the kind. As the one in charge, only Dagul knew the true purpose of their journey — Uruk still had that to learn. Besides, his whole body had already begun going stiff from sitting still so long, and he kept glancing at Dagul more and more often, waiting for the order to climb down.
“Well then, there’s nothing more to do here today. I’ve learned everything I need. Time to head down. Let’s go.”
Hearing these words, Uruk visibly brightened.
Despite his tiredness, Dagul began climbing down quickly, making his way nimbly from branch to branch. And once again, not a single twig so much as stirred beneath him. Even the bird perched at the very top of the tree noticed nothing at all.
The climb down took hardly any time at all and passed without incident. Before long, Dagul was standing on the ground, stretching out his slightly stiff arms and legs.
Uruk began climbing down too, but much more slowly. Unlike Dagul, it wasn’t coming easily to him. His legs had gone completely numb, and his arms felt as if they’d sprouted thorns, stinging painfully with every movement.
Once he’d climbed down two branches, he decided to stretch his arms and legs a little, to get his sluggish blood moving again. It helped. He could feel his body again, and wanted to move faster.
Trying to hop over to the next branch, Uruk set his foot down badly. It slipped and shot downward. His other foot followed right after it, finding no footing either. At the last moment, Uruk still managed to grab hold of the nearest branch. It turned out not to be very thick, and it began bending dangerously.
Luckily, he quickly got his bearings and found his footing again. It all came out fine. Uruk didn’t fall.
But his sudden movements had made quite a bit of noise.
The two birds perched atop his tree and Dagul’s took fright and flew up, circling above the treetops, as though trying to make out just who had barged in so rudely on their bird business.
What an idiot he is, after all, Dagul thought angrily.
Uruk finally felt the long-awaited ground beneath his feet, and immediately shot Dagul a guilty look. But Dagul said nothing, turned, and headed off deeper into the forest.
Uruk let out a sigh of relief. Getting a scolding from Dagul was the last thing he wanted right now. He hurried after him, deciding, just to be safe, not to get too close, and not to ask any questions.