Run Like Hell

by Elliott Kay

  Her blue eyes widened. “You bought it? Human farmers sold to orcs and goblins?”

  “A few, yes. Enough. It’s more reliable than trying to steal it every season. Dead farmers don’t grow more for the next year. Living farmers can’t always sell all their crops in human markets, either. Or even get them all to market. And it’s in the markets where they pay their taxes,” he added with a wink. “The markets are rigged to help the farmers closest to the cities. How else do you think the outland farms survive?”

  “I never…wait, how do you know so much about human markets?” she asked.

  “I’m half-orc,” said Scars. “Think back a few years. The kingdom only turned rabid about our kind when the Electors put Dostin on the throne. It didn’t come from the queen who ruled before him, or the queen before her. They honored the Peace of Clear Skies. Nobody argued about where orcs and goblin folk could live. We had our own villages, our own farms, and a lot of us lived among humans. Bandits were bandits by deed, not outlaws by blood.”

  “I was there, you know,” said Teryn. “I remember.”

  “Then you remember Dostin whipping up hatred against us throughout his first year on the throne, right? You remember how quickly things changed? Every excuse he found to crack down on us, he used. Times change. We change with them.”

  Scars turned and continued on through the hallway, revealing the little goblin who’d been standing behind him. DigDig rested his new shovel over his shoulder. “Stupid wizard was supposed to fix my teeth, too. King Mierrek said he would. Never did.”

  “You were paid in coin and meals and housing,” Teryn said slowly, as if tracing it all out. “And you were promised dental care?”

  “Yep,” said DigDig. “Never got that, though. Fuckers.”

  “How did you spend the money you were paid?”

  “Meals and gear,” said War Cloud. “You don’t think the wizard just let us keep all that coin, do you? He had to get it back from us somehow.”

  “Wait. He provided food, but he charged you for it?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, he said it was cheaper because he helped to pay for it, though. Had a fancy word for that shit.”

  “Subsidized?” Teryn ventured.

  “Yeah, that’s it. He subsidized,” said the gnoll. “He sent us out to retrieve the food and then he charged us for it and said it was cheaper this way ‘cause he subsidized it.”

  “That didn’t strike you as dishonest?”

  “Oh, everybody knew it was a scam. Nobody had a better deal waiting for them, though. Or a place to stay. This job did shelter us from the king’s army, at least. Besides, he did sort of help cover the cost of food. Made it cheaper for us.”

  “How?”

  “You caught the bit about tax evasion, right?” War Cloud grinned.

  Once again, Teryn found herself blinking in shock. “How do you know about tax evasion?”

  “Scars isn’t the only one with some measure of human upbringing. I told you, I spent several of my years as a pup in a human church. If there’s one thing they taught me besides my faith, it’s tax evasion.”

  War Cloud moved on, following after Scars. Shady Tooth was already gone, as was Yargol. Teryn looked down to DigDig. “Still pissed off about my teeth,” the goblin muttered.

  “There’s nothing else up here,” Scars announced at the end of the hall. “This last office is the same as the rest. No device, no loot. We’ve hit a dead end.”

  “Curious. One would think this is a prime spot for control of the doors,” said Yargol.

  “Yeah, you’ve got a point,” said Teryn. She stood at an open window overlooking the plaza. “We’ve got a perfect view of the gate from up here. If the controls aren’t down there, this would make sense.”

  “Let’s head down and see how many lower levels this place has,” said Shady Tooth. “At least we know where the top ends.”

  As the others moved on, War Cloud stopped Scars from following with a hand on his shoulder. “Do you notice anything different?” he murmured.

  “About what?” asked Scars. His hand fell to the sword on his belt.

  “Them. The way they’re talking. The way they walk.” War Cloud nodded to the others up ahead. “All this searching for nothing, yet no one complains. Hardly any argument over leaving the vault. Less tension, more support. Even DigDig is walking tall.” His lips curled back in a grin. “They’re coming together.”

  “They came together in the fight,” said Scars. “This is pride. They only needed a little.”

  “They?” War Cloud chuckled. “More like ‘we,’ I think.”

  Half the group was already moving down the stairs. Shady Tooth lingered. Scars noticed her feline ears tilted back toward them, only to flick forward as they approached. She’d clearly heard them. He wondered how she felt, but she said nothing. With Scars and War Cloud caught up, she moved on.

  The staircase turned in a spiral, wide enough for two as it wound through all three levels of the trading post. DigDig and Teryn carried their glowstones openly, unworried now about any ambush or disturbance of the dead. No one shouted, yet no one felt the need to whisper, either.

  “Okay, my turn for questions,” said Shady Tooth. “Probably for Yargol, someone else might know: what was Zuck doing out here, anyway?”

  “He never shared his plans with me,” Yargol answered. “He studied magic. He recruited. He kept track of events in the wider world. Yet he never told me what he intended to do with his power and knowledge, if he had any such plans at all.”

  “The man had us collecting ghouls and keeping them in a pen,” said Shady Tooth. “He had to have some sort of plans for them. For all this.”

  “I know he was the court wizard, and he was run out by the king, but I don’t know why,” said Scars.

  “Embezzlement,” said Teryn. “He was run out for embezzlement.”

  “What’s that?” asked Shady Tooth.

  “A form of theft. It’s when you are entrusted with money for a specific use, but you keep it or spend it for yourself instead. Olen Zuck took money from the king that was meant for other purposes and kept it or spent it on himself. No one knew exactly what he did with it. Now that I’m here, I suspect it went to all this.”

  “You sound bitter about that,” said Shady Tooth. “I thought you hated the king?”

  “If one snake bites another, they’re both still snakes,” said Teryn. “At any rate, I know he was caught stealing from the crown. Whatever else came of that, I don’t know. He fled. I’d guess he wanted to hide out here and build himself a power base to ward off any pursuit.”

  “He’d never have amassed enough power to stand against the king,” War Cloud scoffed.

  “He could make it too costly to the king to come after him. The crown is busy running all the goblin folk out of the lowlands, anyway. Running plenty of them straight here, apparently. It’s possible this suits their purposes, too.”

  “True enough,” agreed Scars. “Most of us came here because this was the only place that would have us. It’s why I came. I guess I figured Zuck had much the same problem. Never made the mistake of thinking he was just misunderstood or some nonsense like that, but it’s easy to make common cause with a fellow outcast when everyone else wants you dead.”

  “You don’t say,” murmured Shady Tooth.

  “What about the goblin king?” asked War Cloud. “Did Mierrek ever hint at any plans?”

  “Not in any of his stupid speeches,” Shady Tooth answered. “Aside from those, I was never allowed anywhere near him. He never explained taking his forces in with the wizard, either. One day he said to pack up and march and that was it.”

  “Don’t know, either,” said DigDig. “No one ever explained to me. Was only a whelp at—”

  “Halt! Who goes there?” called out a low, strong voice. “I hear goblin voices and the name of our king. Show yourselves!”

  DigDig was back around the doorway and flattened against the frame well before the voice finished. He loo
ked back up to the others in frustration. “Venko,” he hissed.

  Shady Tooth winced. “Shit.”

  “Who—?” Teryn began in a whisper, but Scars cut her off with a finger to his lips. He took the glowstone from her hand. Teryn looked at him with fresh alarm.

  “He’s Mierrek’s bodyguard,” Scars explained quietly. “Wait here. Don’t let them see you.”

  “Don’t make us run you down,” Venko called out again. “Show yourselves.”

  Biting back frustrations of her own, Teryn pulled up the bandana around her neck to cover the lower half of her face. She nocked an arrow in her bow and crouched on the stairs. Scars walked forward with her light, leaving her in shadows.

  “Hold your arrows. It’s Scars,” he said, stepping out past DigDig into the hall. “There’s only a couple of us. What about you?”

  The hobgoblin emerged from the shadows at the end of the hall carrying a spear and shield. He stood as tall as Scars, perhaps even taller, with his green skin a shade duller than DigDig’s, but he shared much the same beady red eyes. Unlike the scattered and scavenged armor common among the dungeon’s guards, Venko wore a matched suit of chain and leather complete with helmet and boots. Mierrek’s honor guard naturally got the best arms and armor. Scars saw a couple more such outlines in the shadows. “Why are you down here? How did you find this place?” Venko barked back.

  “Adventurers hit the dungeon. They blew through us on the way to the wizard. I thought we were the only ones to survive. We had nowhere else to go but down. As for how we found this place, it was mostly a lot of running and fighting.”

  “We know all about the adventurers.” Venko’s grey lip curled back to reveal a mouth of perfect, pointy teeth. “So you abandoned your posts? You deserted like cowards?”

  “Don’t call me a coward from the other end of a hallway,” Scars replied. “They smashed through us and looted the place before we recovered. I hold no shame in surviving a fight like that. By the time we were on our feet again, we had no one to report back to.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Venko pulled his spear up again, straightening up from his ready stance. “Though you can explain all this to the wizard and the king. Come with me.”

  Hidden in the shadows of the staircase, War Cloud winced and bit back a curse. Shady Tooth didn’t: “Fuck,” she hissed. “Fucking hell.”

  Yargol held out his staff to Teryn. “Stay out of sight,” he whispered with urgency. “We can’t run. If we try, Zuck will find us with his magic, and then we’re all dead. They mustn’t know we broke you out. Best if they never see you.”

  “What about you?” she asked, grabbing Yargol’s shoulder. “They’ve only seen Scars and DigDig. If the rest of you stay back, maybe we can bail them out.”

  The pair at the front were already through the door. War Cloud followed. Yargol shook his head. “I can’t let them face this alone. Stay out of sight.” He turned to join the others.

  “I know I heard a female,” said Venko. “Where is she?”

  “Fuck,” Shady Tooth repeated, sulking her way down after Yargol.

  Leading the way, Scars soon counted three hobgoblins with Venko. Each of them sized him up with familiar body language that spoke more of threats than greetings. Scars eyed them in turn, as much to respond to their bluster in kind as to get a real look at them. He noted burns and cuts in their armor, along with bloodstains, rips, and tears. The adventurers had gotten a piece of Mierrek’s bodyguards, yet somehow they’d survived, too.

  The chamber beyond the guards opened up beyond its thick doorway with a high ceiling held up by artful columns. Plentiful glowstones in wall sconces lit the space almost as brightly as the daytime sun. Floors of bare concrete and dust gave way to clean marble covered by fine carpets. Furniture lined the walls—new furniture, mostly cabinets and shelves, but also more than one set of table and chairs.

  All the little contents and accessories were present, too: flatware and goblets on the tables, books on the shelves, paper and ink at the desk. The chamber felt warm. Comfortable. It smelled of roasted hen and freshly baked bread.

  Behind a partially-drawn drape over the far corner of the room rose a lush bed complete with its own canopy and curtains. Silhouettes moved behind the drape. A bitter voice drifted through the barrier, too…a human voice. “Damn it, I didn’t tell you to bring them right in here. I asked who it was.”

  “But you didn’t say not to bring them in,” complained a hobgoblin.

  “Shut up and get out there,” the human snapped. Through the break in the drapes, Scars saw the flailing sleeve and belt of a dark blue robe as its owner hastily dressed. The hobgoblin hurried out through the drapes, dressed in hardened leather armor and appearing flustered until it looked up at the newcomers. Then the hobgoblin straightened and jerked at the chest piece of his armor as if in some affectation of dignity. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off.

  “Of all the scrubs and nobodies in this whole dungeon, it’s you lot who pulled through,” said a low voice off to one side. Behind another curtain covering an alcove, a large figure drew himself up from a chair and a small table. The hobgoblin was larger and brawnier than the rest, but also older. Flecks of white highlighted the stubble growing from his dark grey face. Where all the other hobgoblins cut a trim and muscular figure, this one couldn’t quite hide his belly with his dark scale mail armor. He clutched a bandaged and wounded left arm to his chest.

  “Mierrek,” said Scars.

  “King Mierrek,” the hobgoblin seethed. “Mind your manners, half-an-orc. Hard times change nothing here. Respect your betters.”

  Scars eyed him with interest. The impact of Mierrek’s injury showed in his posture. “Some things have changed,” Scars observed.

  “The burns on my arm haven’t healed even with the wizard’s potions. Let’s see how the likes of you holds up to such injury,” said Mierrek. “You’d be nothing but ash against the power we faced. And who else escaped with you?” His eyes flashed from one of his companions to the next. “Bah. Only the most worthless. Half of you probably barely know each other. Not even a random guard detail, let alone a squad or a crew. I thought we might see some survivors. But you? More likely the enemy knew you weren’t worth the effort of killing you all.”

  Following Mierrek’s gaze, Scars took in the faces of his companions as an invisible blow to the gut. DigDig’s eyes turned to the floor in grim resignation. Despite his size and ferocity, War Cloud struck a similar pose. Though probably angrier than DigDig, he shared the reluctance to look the goblin king in the eye. Yargol stared off into space, his eyes set in anger. Only Shady Tooth held her head up high. She looked straight at Scars, though she hid her expectations behind a grim frown.

  Mierrek drew closer, first looking Shady Tooth up and down with disdain and then looming over DigDig. “Look at you. So many of my people dead, and who survives? A bitch who doesn’t know her place and a worm who never had one.”

  “Don’t talk to them like that,” grunted Scars.

  “Huh? What’s that?” Mierrek slowly turned, his eyes and voice full of menace. “What did you say to me, half-an-orc? Has someone else forgotten his place? You used to know better than to run your mouth.” He strode forward, clearly expecting Scars to back up. The goblin king’s belly collided with Scars—and then bounced back, along with the rest of him. Scars stood firm. Mierrek winced at the incidental pain the moment sent through his injured arm.

  “You used to have more minions to hide behind,” said Scars. “It was never about you. Don’t talk to my crew like that.”

  “I don’t take orders,” Mierrek growled. His gaze darted around the room. The survivors of his inner circle and his honor guard tensed, some shifting into place while others watched with uncertainty.

  “No, but you’re looking around the room trying to do math,” said Scars. “You’re wondering what it will cost to make an example of me. You’re wondering if it’s just me or if it’s my whole crew. You’re wo
ndering how many of your remaining lickspittles you’ll lose if this comes to a fight and how you’ll manage without them. Maybe you could consider how little it would cost you to knock off the petty insults and bullying instead.”

  “Or we could go ahead and resolve this the other way,” said War Cloud. Merely speaking up got another hesitant blink from Mierrek. This wasn’t a matter of a lone, lippy subordinate. Scars watched the thoughts connect behind Mierrek’s eyes.

  “Alright, I’m ready,” broke in a nasally voice. “Bleeding hell, is a couple hours of meditation too much to ask?” The drape flew aside, breaking up the standoff.

  Olen Zuck stepped out with his dark blue robes properly belted and sorted, though he tugged and fussed at the fabric with hardly a look up at the newcomers. Brown hair hung from his chin in a goatee that had seen better days, while his scalp showed more signs of balding. The wand and dagger tucked in his belt were his only visible weapons, but everyone knew he needed neither to be dangerous.

  “I swear to all the gods, as soon as you cast a cantrip to get rid of the wrinkles, you find lint,” said the wizard. “And clearing out the lint somehow creates only more wrinkles. There’s got to be a better way. So stupid.” An upward glance stole his attention from his clothes. His lips pulled back with a frown. “Who the hell are these guys?”

  Mierrek’s lip curled back. “Scrubs, Lord Zuck,” he said, still eyeing Scars warily. “Only a handful of scrubs. These are more menial labor than warriors, and the goblin is hardly even—”

  “Ugh. Yargol,” Zuck interrupted. “Pull up your hood. I told you to keep covered up. And where the hell have you been? Where were you when those idiots attacked?”

  “The library, mas—” Yargol began, and then stopped. His fingers curled around the hood of his robes, but fell away. A single glance at Scars and War Cloud helped straighten his shoulders. “The library. I fought beside these warriors until I had no more magic left in me.”

  “Fine, whatever. I suppose I can’t expect much out of you in a fight, anyway. At least you can pack up the scrolls and books and take care of the other delicate jobs around here. I dreaded the thought of the guards doing it. These goons would break more than they salvaged.”