by Scott
“I’ll see you two around,” he told them before he walked off.
“Let’s go,” Saeter said when Geralhd was gone.
He immediately walked toward the farmhouse where Herad had set up camp. Blacknail pulled his hood back up and followed, but he had to drag himself as reluctance made his feet feel heavy. Sparring with Geralhd, or even Vorscha, sounded like a lot more fun than going to see Herad. Blacknail wasn’t looking forward to seeing Herad again at all. He half believed she would kill him on the spot for being a threat to her. Given a choice, he would have avoided the bloodthirsty chieftain for as long as possible.
Before they reached the old home, Saeter unexpectedly veered off track. Blacknail looked over toward where his master was heading and saw Herad taking a walk through the camp. He froze in fright for a second, then forced himself to head her way.
At first it didn’t seem like Herad saw them, but then she turned their way. Blacknail felt himself grow a little sweatier under his cloak. He wanted to pull the hood down even more but didn’t want to draw attention to himself.
As they got closer, Blacknail was struck by how much shorter Herad seemed now that he was a hobgoblin. In fact, she wasn’t really larger than him. That seemed weird to him, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that made her weak. He’d seen one very large human make that mistake.
“Ah, Saeter, I had heard you were b…” Herad stopped and stared at the cloaked Blacknail. At first she looked suspicious, then she snarled in anger. “Please tell me a hobgoblin, in a hood, didn’t walk right by my sentries. Heads are going to roll if it’s been strolling freely through my camp for the last few hours and no one thought to inform me or even knew.”
Saeter and Blacknail went completely still. Slowly and carefully, Blacknail slouched to make himself a smaller target and less threatening. Maybe if he was lucky enough to survive her first blow, he could play dead, then find a hole to hide in.
“I’m informing you right now,” Saeter responded quickly but calmly. “We briefly stopped to unpack, then we came straight to look for you.”
Blacknail could smell his nervousness though. He was simply good at hiding it.
Herad eyed them hostilely but seemed to calm down a little—but only a little. She raised a finger on her gloved hand at Blacknail, and he had to fight the urge to join the bandits making a break for the woods.
“Lose the hood,” she said with an edge to her voice sharp enough to draw blood.
The hobgoblin pulled his hood down as quickly as he could. He lowered his eyes submissively and stared at her boots. Herad observed him silently for a few seconds.
“Are you a hobgoblin or an oversized lizard? Look at me,” she ordered.
Reluctantly, Blacknail raised his head and met her eyes. They were dark and hostile. Did she want to fight him? Hopefully she just wanted to make him submit. Submitting would be fine with him. In fact, he would do it right now.
“Your servant Blacknail greets you, chieftain.” He gave her his best impression of a friendly human smile. It wasn’t a good impression, but it did give her a nice view of his teeth.
Herad looked at him blankly for a second, then she chuckled. Saeter and Blacknail were taken aback.
“This is what Red Dog was so afraid of? It’s just a slightly bigger goblin. Still small and cowardly.” She laughed coldly.
Saeter turned and frowned at Blacknail, then he looked at Herad. Blacknail’s pride was somewhat hurt by Herad’s remark.
“He’s only been a hob for a few days. He’ll grow some more, and he’s not cowardly. He’s just perceptive and has a beast’s instincts. Hobgoblins are clever. Blacknail knows an opponent he can’t beat when he sees one, so he’s acting accordingly,” Saeter explained defensively.
Herad threw him a doubtful look. Blacknail usually liked being complimented, but now he really wished Saeter would stop talking.
“Just ask around if you don’t believe me. He took down one of your new recruits before the fool and his two friends even knew what was happening. They were so scared they hightailed it off into the woods, screaming all the way. You’re going to have to send scouts out to find them if you want them back,” he added.
“So that was your pet, was it? I was just about to investigate that disturbance,” she mused.
“He seems weak to you because that’s what he wants you to think. He’s being submissive toward a strong pack leader. Don’t underestimate hobgoblins. Hood or no hood, a few sentries wouldn’t stop Blacknail from slipping into camp and slitting some throats come nightfall,” Saeter continued to explain.
“But I’m-ss your servant and friend and won’t ever cut-ss your band,” Blacknail interjected nervously as he gave Herad another smile. What was his master trying to do?
“If it’s so clever, why are you so sure you have it under control?” Herad asked Saeter, ignoring Blacknail.
“He’s too smart to pick fights he can’t win. I just had to train him to control himself and make sure he knew who the boss was,” Saeter replied with a shrug.
“That would be me, but now I’m curious. How exactly did the great ranger Saeter manage to be the first to train a hobgoblin?” she asked with a smirk.
“Sword drills and sparring are the best thing for teaching discipline,” Saeter deadpanned.
Herad gave Saeter a look that clearly indicated he was either an idiot or insane and possibly both. Then she burst out laughing. Blacknail actually flinched away from her at the unexpected outburst, but Saeter took it in stride.
“By the gods, you amuse me sometimes, Saeter! No wonder no one has done it before. Who would be stupid or mad enough to teach a hobgoblin how to use a sword? It’s brilliant in its pure bloody insanity!” She cackled. Her laughter faded after a while, and she actually wiped a tear from her eye.
Saeter looked a little spooked at her reaction.
“I can’t wait to see the look on Red Dog’s face when he learns about this. You just keep teaching your hobgoblin how to kill people. I think I’m going to enjoy having him around. Oh, and when he’s gotten proficient enough, I want you to send him my way for a few rounds. That ought to be interesting,” Herad told Saeter as amusement oozed from her voice. Without waiting for an answer, the bandit leader walked away, still chuckling to herself. Her black cloak trailed behind her as she went.
When she was gone, Blacknail turned to his master and couldn’t help but give him a dirty look. Why had he told Herad all that? Blacknail could think of nothing he would like to do less than fight Herad.
“Don’t give me that look, you jumped up goblin,” Saeter said. “Bah, you were acting all pathetic. It was shameful. You should be thanking me; now she likes you!”
That didn’t make Blacknail feel any better. He had much preferred his own plan. Blacknail felt it would have involved a much smaller chance of dying. He had a feeling that when he fought Herad, they wouldn’t be using wooden blades.
Chapter 21
The man known as Ferret strolled into the woods toward the camp latrines. The large rough-shaven bandit had been lounging around the bandit camp for a while, but now nature’s call had lured him into the forest.
From where he was sitting and watching from another corner of the camp, Blacknail smiled. It was not a friendly smile, but one that displayed both teeth and menace. After a quick look around to make sure no one was paying attention, he slowly got up and slipped off into the trees.
Most of the bandits in the camp simply avoided the hobgoblin, but several were more hostile. Among the most vocal about their distrust of Blacknail was Ferret. He had made his hatred for Blacknail plain at every opportunity. He spent a great deal of time trying to turn the other humans against the hobgoblin and had even threatened to kill the hobgoblin. Worse, he had threatened Saeter. That had to stop.
Blacknail stalked through the woods silently. He had removed the boots Saeter had given him because he found it easier to move undetected without them. He had also removed his cloak; his green skin was ha
rder to see in the forest, and the cloak tended to get caught on things.
Nearly invisible, the hobgoblin circled the camp toward the latrines and his prey. He slipped noiselessly between the trees and bushes. Anticipation for the hunt gleamed in his eyes. Soon, the cracking of breaking twigs and the whooshing sound of human breath reached his ears. With his prey located, he stopped to observe and plan from behind a nearby tree.
Ferret’s back was to the goblin, and his pants were down around his ankles. He was busy emptying his bladder. Blacknail took advantage of the man’s distraction and stalked toward him. The sound of bird calls and Ferret’s messy noises masked Blacknail’s quiet approach.
Ferret continued to urinate unaware as Blacknail closed the distance between them. When he stood directly behind his target, Blacknail drew his dagger. Then the hobgoblin hesitated.
He had never actually assaulted a human without his rage driving him. Part of him doubted he could pull it off. Ferret was not a small man. However, another part of Blacknail urged him forward. He had seen humans fight and die many times. A good blade could end them easily enough, and Ferret was a threat to him and his master. The hobgoblin made up his mind.
Blacknail kicked the man’s feet out from under him. With a startled oomph, Ferret fell forward over the latrine pit. He flailed as he tipped forward and desperately tried to find some way to steady himself. Before he could fall into the latrine, Blacknail wrenched him backward. The hobgoblin’s long thin fingers entwined through the man’s hair as he pulled up the man. Before the man could yell and draw attention, Blacknail rested his blade against Ferret’s throat.
The rough bandit stiffened and froze in alarm as he hung unsteadily over the pit. From this close, Blacknail could hear Ferret’s heart pounding. The edge of his knife put pressure on the man’s skin but didn’t draw blood yet.
“Hello-ss, Ferret,” Blacknail whispered before he licked the side of the man’s face. The bandit’s skin was salty with sweat.
Ferret shuddered in horror. “What do you want?”
“Silence. Yours. I have-ss heard you try to turn the band against me. You challenge me,” Blacknail answered.
“You’re not part of the band. You’re just a stupid beast. Kill me if you want, but then everyone will know you for the vicious animal you are, and they will hunt you down,” Ferret replied angrily.
Blacknail let his dagger drop, then he stabbed Ferret in the leg. The bandit hissed in pain and flinched, but Blacknail held him tightly. A few seconds later, the large man went limp and loose in the hobgoblin’s grip. Blacknail sheathed his poisoned dagger and drew a rock from one of his pouches.
“I thank you for permission to end your life,” Blacknail told the man he had paralyzed with spider poison taken from Saeter’s bags.
Emotionlessly, he smashed the man in the head with the rock, creating a small gash that bled freely, then he let the body and the rock fall into the latrine. The bandit landed headfirst with a loud, wet splat. Much to Blacknail’s satisfaction, his face was submerged in the collected human excrement, where the paralyzed and most likely unconscious bandit would drown.
His chore complete, Blacknail got up from where he was crouched beside the latrine pit and headed back to the camp. He circled the camp instead of heading straight back to the clearing, so as not to draw suspicion upon himself. Hopefully he would be back to where he had been sitting before anyone even noticed he had left.
He hadn’t actually followed Ferret planning to kill him. He had been planning to simply scare him into submission. However, the unthinking hatred in the man’s eyes had convinced Blacknail that wouldn’t work. Ferret had been a danger and would have never accepted Blacknail into the band.
Everything had worked out though. Anyone who found the body would probably think Ferret had fallen in, hit his head, and drowned in the latrine. With all the footprints from the heavy traffic to and from the latrine, no one would notice the hobgoblin’s prints. Blacknail smiled at his own cleverness. Saeter would probably even approve, not that Blacknail was ever going to tell him.
He emerged from the bushes at the border of the clearing and crept into the bandits’ camp. No one even looked his way. Once he reached the pile of firewood he had been sitting on earlier, he picked up his discarded cloak and boots and put them back on. That done, the hobgoblin headed back to Saeter’s campsite. His master probably had tasks for him to complete. As he moved through the camp, most of the humans moved out of his way and threw him wary glances.
Word had spread about who and what was under his cloak. Blacknail found it amusing. He didn’t wear the cloak to make people less uneasy around him; he wore it because it made them more afraid. Not really knowing what he looked like was what upset them the most.
He suspected the larger and heavier humans would grow accustomed to his presence quickly if he took off his cloak and simply spent time around them. For now, he wanted to make sure they didn’t disregard him. Fear would help make him equal in their eyes and secure him a higher position within the band without the need for violence, or at least less of it.
Blacknail arrived at the campsite he shared with Saeter. Beside Saeter’s tent, the hobgoblin had dug a shallow hole and built a small lean-to over it with twine, branches, and grass. It was little more than a dry place to sleep and store a few things, but that was all he needed.
Saeter wasn’t around, so Blacknail strolled off to find him. Eventually he found his master by the road, watching a group of people approach the camp. Blacknail walked over to join him. He was curious what was going on. He hadn’t heard about anything important happening today.
“There you are, Blacknail. Decided to stop lazing about, did ya?” Saeter remarked as he looked at the approaching people with obvious disapproval.
“Yes, master. What-ss is this?” Blacknail asked.
“The last of Herad’s new recruits. She must have hired every petty thief and thug in Riverdown to get as many as she has. Most of them won’t last long. She’s probably planning on simply letting most of them die and keeping the survivors.”
Blacknail studied the group coming down the road. He recognized Red Dog leading them. Behind him were around two dozen men and women. Only three or four seemed familiar to Blacknail. Red Dog recognized the hobgoblin and gave him a nasty look. Blacknail smiled back and made sure to flash as many teeth as possible. He knew the man wasn’t a real threat to him. He would never dare go against Herad’s wishes.
Red Dog chose to ignore Blacknail and turned to Saeter instead. “I see your pet hasn’t managed to kill you yet, Saeter.”
“I’m not the one who needs to be afraid,” Sater responded cryptically.
“Did I miss anything important while I was gone?” Red Dog asked as he frowned at Saeter’s response.
“Yes, they passed out the good manners. Too bad you weren’t here,” Saeter replied with an amused tone.
“Very funny, old man. Why don’t you use some of that matchless experience of yours and show some of these baby-faced recruits around while I go talk to Herad?” Red Dog said with a roll of his eyes.
Before Saeter could answer, someone Blacknail had never seen before walked up behind Red Dog and spoke.
“Who is this old man, Dog?” the young human female asked.
Red Dog cringed slightly. The girl had short red hair and was about average size for a human female. She smiled excitedly at Saeter.
“You’re recruiting children, now?” Saeter asked Red Dog disdainfully.
“I’m over sixteen winters,” the girl interjected. She seemed annoyed at being called a child.
Red Dog just shrugged. “I told her to screw off the first time she showed up, but then several of the other people I tried to recruit dropped out with mysterious knife wounds. Seemed like a good idea to just let her come at that point.”
The redhead smiled again, and she winked at Saeter conspiratorially.
The old scout looked the girl over carefully. “Who are you running from, girl
?”
“Name’s Khita, and I dunno what you’re talking about. Maybe I just wanted to serve under a famous swordswoman like Herad,” she replied.
Saeter grunted and gave her a skeptical look. He didn’t seem convinced. “Those are gang colors you’re wearing. The gangs look down on bandits, and they don’t take kindly to their members quitting either. That tells me you were looking for a quick exit from Riverbend when you joined up with us. So tell me, who are you running from?”
Khita narrowed her eyes and gave Saeter a hostile stare, but she relented under the pressure of his steady gaze. Few people could outstare Blacknail’s master. He had a lot of practice at it.
“Ugh, fine! Maybe I kinda stabbed someone I shouldn’t have,” she explained.
“Who and why?” an unsurprised Saeter asked.
The girl’s mouth twisted into a frown as she considered whether to answer him. “My boss’s girl. Bitch thought she could take my stuff just because she was shacking up with Klavik, our leader.”
Saeter turned to Red Dog. The other man just shrugged indifferently.
“This is a wonderful new recruit you’ve gotten for us,” Saeter told him sarcastically.
“She’s here now, so she’s not my problem anymore. Thank the gods,” Red Dog replied with an amused grin. He then turned and walked back toward the other people he had recruited, leaving Khita with Blacknail and Saeter.
As Red Dog left, Khita seemed to notice Blacknail for the first time. She looked over the cloaked figure suspiciously. “What’s with the cloaked freak? She just gonna stand there all day?”
Blacknail twitched. She had confused his gender? Oh right, human females were smaller than males, so she thought he was one of them. It was still kind of insulting. He decided he didn’t like her. Blacknail took a long step toward the girl, removing most of the distance between them, and straightened to look her directly in the eye. Then he swept his cloak back behind him and flipped his hood down dramatically to fully reveal his inhuman visage.