by Scott
“That's quite the story indeed. I really can’t picture Saeter as any type of leader, but I don't think you're all lying to me. It would certainly explain a lot,” Gerald responded after a minute or so.
“Well, whether you believe it or not, it's all true. Just don't go mentioning any of this where Saeter or Herad could hear you. If you enjoy living that is,” the first speaker replied with shrug.
“I'm not a complete and utter moron,” Geralhd said with a roll of his eyes.
Blacknail was curled up close to the fire and deep in thought about what he had just heard. So his master had been a chieftain until he lost some sort of fight and ended up alone. Herad had let him in her tribe, but she didn’t completely trust him not to challenge her. That made sense to Blacknail. It was sort of goblin-like.
“Fine, if you can keep it to yourself, then I’ll tell you the best part,” one of the men told an intrigued-looking Geralhd. “You see Saeter’s band wasn’t just a—”
Suddenly, a cloaked figure swept out from the shadows. Everyone around the fire jerked in surprise or sprung to their feet with looks of alarm. Saeter glared at them as he surveyed the group. Most of the bandits wilted guiltily under his gaze.
Geralhd gave him a weak smile. “Oh, hey, Saeter. We were just, ah, talking about some things that had noth—”
“I don't care,” Saeter said as he glowered at them. His brows were scrunched together angrily, but his voice seemed to contain a hint of worry. “Two of the men are missing. They were seen after the attack and weren't together. Something entered the camp and dragged them away.”
Chapter 16
No one got a lot of sleep that night, and not just because the watch was doubled. Everyone was too on edge to relax.
The only exception to this was Blacknail. He was reasonably certain that with all the big pink humans running around, nothing would bother going after a skinny little goblin. Also, if anything really dangerous attacked the camp, then all the human screams would wake him up.
When dawn finally brightened the camp, Saeter led a search party out to look for traces of the missing men. After an extensive search, they found nothing, not even the smallest signs of a struggle. As was usual, Blacknail followed his master quietly and listened in. Everyone ignored him unless he spoke up.
"I really don't like this," one of the scouts told Saeter.
"Who would?" Saeter replied with a grunt.
"True, but what I meant is that it's one thing for something to kill two men, but it’s another thing entirely for something to do it while leaving absolutely no tracks. Your goblin couldn’t even smell anything!" the scout said excitedly.
“Maybe they walked off together. Could’ve been bedmates or something,” someone else guessed.
“That’s bloody disgusting. Jon was my friend, and he was no bugger. He also sure as all hells wouldn’t have gone walking out into the forest in the middle of the night without telling anyone!” another bandit answered angrily.
“There ain’t anything wrong with two men sharing a bed out here. The god Slyph-Usra himself smiles upon it. It’s just like sailors when they’re out at sea—” the first man argued defensively.
“You’re like the only follower of that god in the entire camp,” the other bandit said angrily. “Most of us are soldiers. We follow the Azur-Waj, the war god, and he doesn’t look so kindly upon such things. It’s undisciplined and plain unhealthy.”
“Ha, we’re thieves now, even if we used to be soldiers. Most of the band worships Cor-Dius, and he doesn’t care what people do in darkness,” a third bandit added.
“This isn’t relevant,” Saeter said sternly as he cut off any further argument.
A few hostile looks were exchanged, but the other bandits stopped arguing. Saeter was in charge, and they had a job to do.
“I hate to be the one to say it, but this is looking more and more like the work of someone in the band,” a mustached man said, which made several others give him annoyed looks.
“So someone just decided to murder two men who barely knew each other and were on opposite ends of the camp?” a short bandit countered.
“It does seem unlikely, but they must have been in on something together. Murder would explain the lack of anything but human tracks, and nothing else will,” the mustached bandit responded with a suspicious glance at the man arguing with him.
“Not necessarily,” Saeter mused.
Everyone else grew quiet. Most of the bandits looked confused, but a few of the more experienced scouts looked grim or upset instead.
“Well, feel free to enlighten us,” someone eventually said to break the silence.
“I can think of a few things it could have been. It could’ve been some sort of crystal host with a weird power,” Saeter explained.
The outlaws threw each other questioning looks and spoke among themselves for a few seconds. They didn’t seem convinced.
“That’s only one thing. What are the others?” someone asked.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come upon it,” Saeter said grimly.
“A crystal mutant can’t be our best option.”
“Leave it alone. You don’t want to know,” an older voice responded.
Just then, the sound of hooves echoed down the road to the camp. Everyone looked up in time to see a horsewoman ride into the clearing. Several of the outlaws reached for weapons, but they relaxed a bit when they recognized her as one of the women who had gone with Herad. After spotting Saeter and the group around him, the rider headed their way. She smiled at Saeter as she approached. Blacknail scowled at the horse. He didn’t want the stinky thing to come any closer.
“Herad sent me ahead. She’s on her way back with the goods. The raid was a success,” the rider told them.
“How long?” Saeter asked her.
“They’ll be a few hours if they keep up the pace they were holding when I left,” the woman replied.
Saeter didn’t look any happier to know the rest of the band would be back soon. He scowled as he looked down the empty road. “We should get ready for them then.”
He waved off the other bandits after reminding them to never go anywhere alone and to always have a weapon on hand. Saeter then headed back to his campsite and sent Blacknail out to check some meat he was smoking.
The goblin headed over to where a thick pillar of grey smoke was rising from a small heap of evergreen branches. Excitedly, he pushed the branches away to reveal the pit and flame beneath them, but the meat hanging inside didn’t look quite done. It also didn’t taste fully cooked. With a disappointed grunt, the goblin returned the now nibbled meat and headed back to his master’s campsite.
Once there, he took a brief nap, and woke up in time to see the return of the raiding party. The first of the victorious bandits came down the road and immediately found places to collapse and rest. Most of them looked exhausted and were dripping with sweat. Many of them also had some sort of injury.
The smell of sweat, blood, and pus was everywhere and filled the goblin’s nose. He hadn’t thought the humans could smell any worse. Blacknail pinched his long green nose shut. Eew, had he ever been wrong.
Saeter scowled as he took in the scene. He seemed to disapprove of the ragged state of the men and women. The last few bandits came down the road with a pair of wagons covered in tarps.
“Quite a few of them are missing,” the old scout muttered with a hint of concern.
Herad was at the back of the returning bandits. The first thing the black-haired woman did when she came into sight was head Saeter’s way. Vorscha and Red Dog followed closely behind her. Blacknail was shocked by Herad’s bloodthirsty grin. For a second, he was afraid she was going to take a bite out of his master’s face, but then he realized she was just in a good mood. He had never seen her smile before, and he didn’t like it.
“The raid was a success! The weapons are all mine,” she gloated triumphantly as she marched toward the old scout and Blacknail.
“G
ood, we need them. I see you lost more than a few men,” Saeter observed.
Herad shrugged as she uncharacteristically ignored any criticism that could have been implied by the words. “With two recent and profitable raids under our belts, recruiting to fill the holes in our ranks won’t be a problem. It’s not like there is a shortage of scum and thugs around here,” she replied with a hint of condescension.
Saeter frowned, and Blacknail noticed Vorscha react with a scowl as well. Red Dog seemed to agree with Herad though.
“All we need to do is recruit some more in Riverdown and the surrounding countryside. It’s one of the main reasons we built this camp in the first place, so that we would have a place to lay low close to a city,” Red Dog said.
“True, but it’s always better to keep the men we’ve got than to have to replace them with unknown—” Vorscha said before Herad cut her off.
“Enough. Don’t question my decisions. I promised every man and woman who joined my band a chance at plunder. The gods know I sure didn’t offer them safety.” Herad she gave everyone a cold stare.
The others around her lowered their eyes in submission, and even Saeter nodded his grudging acceptance.
“So what now then?” Saeter asked her.
Herad smiled fiercely. Behind her, Red Dog and Vorscha gave each other uneasy glances. It was clear they were both apprehensive about something.
“Like Red Dog said, now we start recruiting heavily. I want to do more than just replace our losses. It’s time to build the band up into a real force to be reckoned with,” she said eagerly.
Red Dog lips twisted into a concerned frown as he listened to Herad. He seemed hesitant to speak up, but his concern overcame his reluctance to question Herad. “Begging your pardon, boss… but that doesn’t seem like it’s going to put more silver in our pockets. Having more men isn't really going to help us pull off more raids, but it will mean less loot for the rest of us.”
“The times are changing, so it's time to change with them,” Herad replied cryptically.
“Werick,” Saeter said grimly as his eyes narrowed.
Herad nodded. “Yes, Werick. The man may be an idiot, but he’s right about at least one thing. More and more deserters and criminals are headed north, but there’s not enough room for them. All the bands are beginning to turn on each other as they fight for plunder. Even worse, all the good targets are disappearing. It’s like what Saeter keeps bitching about—too much bloody banditry will just cause everyone to stop trading and leave. It’s already happening, that’s why we had to come so far south.”
“So you want to buildup our ranks so you can strike even farther south?” Saeter asked.
“No, it’s no longer about raiding caravans and quick gold; it’s about territory. Out east, Werick is setting himself up like some sort of lord. Either we do the same or someone else will, and then we’ll end up working for them or more likely dead.”
“So what does that mean exactly? If we’re not going to keep raiding caravans and villages, then what are we supposed to do?” Red Dog asked.
Herad gave him a patronizing look. “Like I said, we hold territory and we make people pay for safe passage through it. That way we make a profit without driving all the merchants away. We’ll make less from each caravan, but there will be more of them. I’ve already got a message from one merchant asking to pay protection fees.”
Vorscha looked skeptical. Saeter had gone totally quiet. Blacknail gave him a closer look and was surprised to see that the old scout seemed shocked. His weathered face had gone pale and slack.
“If we’re promising safe passage, then we’ll have to enforce it. That means recruiting, driving away, or killing every other bandit group for leagues,” Vorscha mused.
“So that’s exactly what we’ll do. We recruit more men and kill everyone who challenges us,” Herad replied matter-of-factly.
“Well, the weapons we just stole and the gold we’ll get for selling them will sure come in handy now. You do realize this will eventually bring us into conflict with every other band of outlaws trying to the same thing, including Werick, until there is only one bandit left on top?” Vorscha said with an amused snort.
“Oh I know that. If someone is going to be bandit lord of the North, then it’s going to be me,” Herad purred wickedly. She practically oozed bloodlust as she smiled.
“You’re the boss. I’ll follow where you lead,” Red Dog told Herad quickly and nervously.
Herad turned to look at Saeter. He was still deep in thought and was looking at the ground with one hand on his forehead.
She frowned at him. “You usually have something to say, Saeter, so say it.”
Blacknail’s master looked up. “You’re the boss…” He seemed troubled, and his eyes looked unfocused.
Herad was a little taken aback by his response and gave him an odd look. “You finally going senile?”
His only reply was a grunt as he kept staring at the ground. An irritated look appeared on Herad’s face, and a concerned one appeared on Vorcha’s.
“Go take a nap, Saeter, if you’re so tired. Would you mind updating me on how things went while I was gone first though?” she asked impatiently.
Saeter finally looked up and seemed to think her words over for second. “It was pretty quiet. Not much important happened. Last night though, two men went missing. I had a look around with some of the other scouts, but we couldn’t find any traces of whatever grabbed them. It’s probably still out there.”
“That seems bloody important to me,” Red Dog exclaimed anxiously. He cast a look around the clearing as if he was expecting something to attack them then and there.
Vorscha also looked taken aback, and she frowned in concern.
Herad cast an annoyed look at both Red Dog and Saeter. She drew one of her knives and casually flipped it a few times. “What do you think it is?”
Blacknail thought he detected more than a little repressed hostility in her stance and voice.
Saeter hesitated before answering. “I don’t want to guess, but since you’re the one asking, I don’t have much choice. It’s bloody unlikely, but it could be a mutant of some sort. It could also be one of the Flore Kurava, although again it’s unlikely…”
“Wait, are you serious?” a startled Vorscha exclaimed.
“What’s a Florakevera?” asked Red Dog as his tongue tripped over the word.
“One of the forest people,” Herad answered. She looked thoughtful.
“Those are real?” Red Dog asked in surprise.
“Real as diamonds and death. Just because people don’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t out there. One of them could have walked into camp and killed those men without leaving a trace,” Saeter explained.
“But you don’t think one did, do you?” Herad asked Saeter suspiciously.
The old scout shook his head. “No, they haven’t come this far south in over a century, and it doesn’t seem like something they would do. It’s too petty. They would have killed more people and wouldn’t have taken the bodies away. Unfortunately, the most likely option by far is that it’s—”
“Ghouls,” Herad hissed.
Red Dog went pale and stepped back. Vorscha started swearing and cursing nonstop, but Saeter just nodded grimly. The humans’ reactions intrigued Blacknail. What were ghouls? Maybe something exciting was about to happen!
“I take it you didn’t share these concerns with anyone?” Herad asked sharply, and Saeter shook his head. “Well, at least you did that right. How sure are you?”
“If it’s ghouls, then they’ll strike again tonight,” he replied emotionlessly.
Herad nodded. Her short black hair fell in front of her eyes, and she brushed it aside. “Then we have a lot to do before nightfall.”
Herad took charge and laid out a plan. Before she let them go, Herad swore them all to secrecy. She forgot about Blacknail, but he had no idea what they had been talking about, so it didn’t matter. Also, he wasn’t going to talk
about something that would make Herad mad anyway. He liked living too much.
The goblin followed Saeter back to their campsite. His master didn’t go back to their normal routine of chores though. He didn’t even start doing something exciting for Herad. He just collapsed onto one of the cut-up logs they used as chairs beside the fire pit, his head in his hands again. That was no fun.
Blacknail stood there for a few minutes as he waited for his master to do something, but Saeter didn’t move. The goblin didn’t know what was going on. He tilted his head as he examined his master and tried to figure it out. Maybe his master was afraid of the ghouls? Blacknail gave his master a closer look. No, that didn’t seem right. Saeter looked almost sad…
Had someone stolen his food? That was what made Blacknail sad, but that didn’t seem right either. Saeter had plenty of food stored away.
Well, Blacknail had no intention of just standing around forever. The goblin walked over and sat beside his master. Blacknail leaned against his master’s leg as he relaxed and got comfortable. Several seconds later, the goblin felt a hand lightly pat his head. It felt nice. He glanced up to see master looking down at him with a resigned expression.
Blacknail’s master had never patted him on the head before. That was more Geralhd’s thing. Blacknail really wished he knew what was going on. He was starting to grow concerned.
“She might just do it,” Saeter said unhappily as he stared off into space.
Blacknail gave him a blank look. He wasn’t sure who they were even talking about. Was Saeter talking to him? He was definitely looking right at him, and there was no one else here…
“Wouldn’t that be a great joke,” his master added bitterly. “After all I’ve been through and everything that’s been lost, Herad might succeed where I’ve failed.”
Blacknail thought Herad was probably better than Saeter at a lot of things. His master was obviously better at stuff like hunting though, so it wasn’t a big deal. Why was his master so upset?
Saeter sighed deeply as he petted Blacknail again. “You have no idea what I’m talking about do you, goblin?”