by Scott
Beside him, Khita kept talking. “One day I messed up a job… I froze, and he was cut down by some fat stupid guardsman while covering me. The worst thing about it was how all his supposed friends laughed about it. That was the real reason I left. I couldn’t stand to be in that city with those people anymore, so I joined up with Herad when Red Dog came around recruiting. I thought that maybe with a fresh start, I could put it all behind me, but I’m just a coward. I froze again.”
The young redhead was hunched over with her head down toward the ground. The hobgoblin grimaced in frustration. There was no one around but him. What was he supposed to do? Slowly creeping away sounded like a good idea, but Vorscha had given him a job…
Wait, she was just being weird and human-like. He could probably explain to her why she was being stupid, then she would shut up, right?
The hobgoblin coughed to get Khita’s attention. “Freezing doesn’t make you a coward. Sitting here whining makes you-ss stupid though.”
The hobgoblin placed his hand on her shoulder and forced himself to smile reassuringly. Khita looked at him and frowned in confusion. Her eyes were red and wet with tears. Blacknail put a little more pressure on her shoulder so she couldn’t get up and hug him or something.
“I freeze all-ss the time, and then run away. What matters is that you’re still alive so you sneak back later and stab-ss them when they’re not paying attention,” Blacknail explained. “They can’t laugh at you or gang up on you if you hunt them down and kill them in their sleep. When all your enemies are dead-ss, you win!”
“I’m not sure that would really help me at all,” Khita replied sulkily.
“Sure, it will. You’ll feel better, and then you can take all-ss their stuff.”
“I don’t think I could kill them all myself anyway,” the young woman replied, but she was smiling slightly.
Blacknail sighed. Of course Khita couldn’t. She was useless. “I’ll do it then.”
“Really? You’d do that for me?” she asked in surprise.
“Sure,” Blacknail replied as he shrugged. If it shut her up, then he had no problem killing some people. Hmm, would Khita’s enemies count as Herad’s? He owed the chief a hundred corpses after all. Oh well, he was sure he could slip them in without anyone noticing.
The young woman hopped up and reached over to hug Blacknail. The hobgoblin tried to push her away, but somehow she slipped past his guard. How did she keep doing that?
“Thanks, Blacknail, but I think I need to solve my own problems. You’re right; I shouldn’t waste the life my brother gave me. After a few more lessons from Vorscha and the others, I’ll be able to stand on my own. I’m a ruthless bandit now, after all!” Khita said gratefully as Blacknail slipped away from her.
The hobgoblin grimaced and eyed Khita skeptically. That didn’t really sound like what he’d just said, but whatever. As long as she stopped being annoying, it was fine. It also certainly looked like Khita wasn’t wounded, and that meant he could leave finally.
“You do-ss that. I think I hear someone calling me, so bye,” Blacknail said as he stepped backward and made his escape.
Chapter 37
Blacknail quickly reported back to Vorscha. The warrior woman was right where she’d said she would be—by the entrance the knights had attacked. The hobgoblin sauntered over and informed her that Khita was perfectly fine, if still annoying and useless.
“Good. It’s hard to keep track of people during a battle, and that one was fairly chaotic. I couldn’t afford to worry about her then,” Vorscha explained. She was leaning against a post and watching a group of bandits work to repair the barricade the knights had crushed.
“You owe-ss me. Now all the good stuff is taken.” Blacknail watched a bandit with a dented but new steel breastplate walk by.
“I’m sure Geralhd will give you something nice,” Vorscha replied distractedly.
By now, all the enemies had disappeared—except for one. The knights had ridden out of camp as if a horde of monsters had been on their tails and their footmen had followed, which left only Sir Masnin behind. The paladin had retrieved his mount and was saddling it in preparation to leave.
As he finished, Herad detached herself from her bodyguards and walked over to him. Somehow, she’d found the time to switch into cleaner armor and her short dark hair had been combed. “Headed away so soon, are you? Now that things have calmed down a little, are you sure you don’t want to stick around for a bit and rest? There’s no point in rushing away.”
Sir Masnin eyed the bandit chieftain warily. Complex emotions stormed behind his eyes. “Earlier, I may have underestimated how dangerous you were and the exact nature of that threat. You caught me off guard. I won’t be making that mistake again. I intend to make for my order’s closest chapter house and submit a full report. After that, I will go where they will me.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere. Just make sure you tell your superiors who controls this territory. It’s not the merchants, the nobles, or even the king. It’s me.” Herad replied with a predatory smile.
“I’ll make sure they’re aware of your strength,” the paladin remarked as he surveyed the bandits. His eyes stopped on Blacknail. “Good-bye, Herad. I can’t say it has been a pleasure, but it has certainly been interesting.”
The hobgoblin noticed the attention and gave the man a friendly wave. Sir Masnin didn’t wave back, which was rude of him.
“Maybe you can stop by again,” Herad replied. “Just come alone next time so there are fewer distractions.”
With only a vague nod for a reply, the paladin jumped up into his saddle and rode away.
When he was gone, Herad turned toward Vorscha. “Go round up Red Dog and the others. I need to talk to them.”
Vorscha nodded and quickly obeyed. She walked toward the center of the camp, and soon Blacknail heard her shouting for her own subordinates. The hobgoblin stayed where he was, out of sight. He had taken a seat off to one side. If he stayed still, then Herad probably wouldn’t even remember he was there, and having to sneak back to hear what she told everyone was too much work for him right now. He had tired himself out by bravely defending the camp and delivering the blow that had finished off the mutant snake.
Herad took a seat at one of the nearby campsites. Two of her bodyguards took up position behind her. Several crude chairs circled the unlit fire pit in front of her. Most of the campsites had been trashed or trampled, but not this one.
Saeter was the first person to arrive. The old scout strolled up behind Blacknail without making a noise, much to the hobgoblin’s surprise. Blacknail flinched, and the action drew Herad’s attention. Her gaze slipped past Blacknail and onto Saeter. As usual, she looked displeased to see him. She sat up, and her posture became defensive.
The old scout noticed her reaction and frowned. “She’s not exactly welcoming, is she? You’d think she would appreciate all the work I do.”
“It’s all your own fault,” Blacknail told his master as he poked Saeter in the shoulder.
“What? That’s ogre shit!” Saeter said angrily. “I do everything she asks me without complaint.”
The hobgoblin stared at his master for a second before sighing in disbelief. Did he actually believe that? “You don’t show proper respect-ss for her as the tribe’s leader.”
“What in all the hells does that mean?” Saeter asked.
“You glare instead of cowering when she stares at you. You also never give-ss her tribute or offer to fight for her. You should go talk to her and do those things,” Blacknail answered.
“That’s stupid. I’m not a hobgoblin. Why would I do that crap?” Saeter asked scornfully.
“So she doesn’t think you’re going to challenge her,” Blacknail said slowly so that his words would penetrate his master’s thick skull.
“Why would she think that?” Saeter asked in surprise.
Blacknail didn’t reply. He just stared at his master in a way that clearly showed he thought the man wa
s being stupid. The hobgoblin knew a thing or two about sucking up to authority figures.
“Ugh, maybe I do need to have a word with her,” the old scout admitted.
“Just remember to grovel like you mean it,” Blacknail said as he nodded sagely.
After a brief hesitation, Saeter made his way over to the bandit chieftain. Herad threw him a questioning look as he sat down across from her.
“I’d like to talk to you, if that’s all right, boss,” Saeter said.
Herad glowered at the scout suspiciously, which made Saeter glance away uncomfortably for a second. Blacknail noticed and threw his master a supportive grin until he looked back. Herad noticed the interplay and looked confused. The bandit chieftain took a few seconds to think before motioning for her bodyguards to leave. They obeyed, and a moment later, they were leaning against the side of a building out of earshot.
“So what’s this about?” she asked Saeter suspiciously.
The old scout hesitated until a loud cough from Blacknail’s general direction made him to sit up straight and meet his boss’s eyes. His voice was subdued as he spoke. “You know… I have no intention of ever leading a band again. There are those who say I was a good leader, but I’m not sure they’re right.”
Herad scowled darkly. She appeared surprised by the old scout’s words. Blacknail’s ears perked up. It sounded as though his master was finally offering Herad his loyalty—in a stupid human way. Still, it was something.
“What, you’re admitting to having faults now?” Herad asked the scout mockingly.
Her words took Saeter by surprise. He sat up, and a look of understanding flashed across his face before it was replaced by careful neutrality. “I have plenty of those, and I’ve made more than few mistakes as well. I didn’t start off as the leader of the White Ravens. I started off as a greenhorn like everyone else. I had charisma though, so over time I somehow ended up in charge.”
“And you became a legend, a king of thieves!” Herad spat harshly.
Saeter laughed morosely. “I certainly succeeded in becoming a tragic figure! The White Raven, the champion of a country long dead and a noble thief who was never caught. They sing songs about me, and when I listen to them, all I hear are the wails of the fallen. It’s true, I was never caught, but others were. I lost many friends fighting for a lost cause. Such a victory is like ashes in my mouth.”
“Is this supposed to be some sort of warning? I don’t need any of your damn advice, old man! I’m nothing like you. Victory will be mine for the taking!” Herad said scathingly.
“You’re right. You don’t need advice from me. You’re already closer to taking the prize than I ever got. I think you can do it—conquer the North. I could never have done such a thing,” Saeter admitted as he calmly met Herad’s gaze.
The bandit chieftain looked shocked. Uncertainty was plain in her eyes.
Saeter sighed and looked away from her. “They called me a gentleman, but really I was weak. I chose the easy road. I shied away from making hard choices, which is what a real leader has to do. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t question my actions. If I had been more ruthless or bloodied my hands more, would my friends still be alive?”
Herad clearly had no idea how to respond. She stared at the scout as he spoke.
“If I had played the noble bandit less and been the savage unifier instead, would this land have suffered so much? Every empty farmhouse I see is a reminder of death and suffering I might have been able to prevent. I kept my hands clean while the land drowned in blood around me.” Saeter’s voice dropped off, and he stared at the ground.
There was silence.
Herad eventually replied. “I’m in this for myself, so keep that in mind. Anyway, don’t get so full of yourself, old man. You’re not responsible for an entire country. You’re just a scout. You work for me.” The bandit chieftain’s voice was strong and her face had retaken its cold and distant expression. However, the usual enmity that burned in her eyes when Saeter was nearby was absent.
“Now give her something shiny!” Blacknail whispered to his master.
Before Saeter could reply, Vorscha came back. Red Dog and a few others were walking behind her.
“I believe this is everyone, boss,” she shouted as she strode over to Herad.
Herad turned toward the new arrivals. Without another word to Saeter, she got up and headed their way. The old scout watched Herad walk away and sighed. There was a look on his face that Blacknail didn’t know how to interpret. Maybe he regretted missing his chance to offer her a shiny gift?
“Well, that actually went better than I thought it would,” the old scout grumbled as he massaged his temples. The ranger looked exhausted. The battle earlier had taken a little out of him, but not nearly as much as his speech to Herad.
As he walked over to the fire pit, Red Dog noticed the hobgoblin sitting off to the side. His eyes narrowed for a moment as he gazed at Blacknail thoughtfully, then he quickly looked away. His quick change of facial expressions drew Blacknail’s attention. Under his hood, the hobgoblin’s ears perked up and he licked his lips. Was something going on?
Red Dog spoke up when Herad came his way. “Why did you want us, boss?”
“Plans have changed. Recent events have messed with my timetable,” Herad replied.
“It was blasted unlucky of us to get attacked by those knights and that mutant at the same time,” Red Dog grumbled. “The camp’s a bloody damned mess. I imagine that this is going to slow down the plan.”
“Ha, unlucky? We’re foxes in the henhouse now! We just smashed, with minimal losses, the only mobile force the nobles in this area could send against us! Nothing short of a royal expedition will be able to force us away now!” Herad announced.
“We lost more than a few good men and a lot of bad ones. I wouldn’t call that a minimal loss,” Vorscha countered.
“So what? We’re in the middle of a recruiting drive anyway. All that means is that it will last a little longer and we’ll have one more victory to brag about,” the bandit chieftain pointed out.
“So you won’t be delaying your trip to Daggerpoint this winter?” Saeter asked.
“No, in fact, I’ll be speeding up my plans. It’s time to go for our enemies’ throats,” Herad said confidently. “Now that this base is secured, it’s even more important that I announce my claim to the other large outlaw bands. They need to know that if they move into my territory, it will mean war.”
“Can’t you just send a messenger?” Red Dog asked.
“No, some of those bastards would challenge me right away. I can’t give them time to plan and work to undermine me. I need to be in Daggerpoint so I can confront the other bandit captains directly and put them in their place,” Herad replied.
“You won’t be able to bring too many men with you if you want to hold this base. What happens if one of the other large bands takes up your challenge?” Red Dog asked in concern.
The bandit chieftain almost seemed to shiver in excitement. Her dark eyes gleamed madly, and her smile widened to show teeth. “In Daggerpoint, I’ll be able to recruit real hardened bandits. Then if anyone tries to stand in my way, I’ll paint the streets with their blood and take their skulls as trophies.”
Blacknail smiled with her and rubbed his hands together gleefully. Herad was such a great chief! He couldn’t wait to feel the blood of his tribe’s enemies run through his hands. Glorious days were coming, and he was going to have such fun.
After her speech, Herad sent everyone away. There were lots of things that needed to be done. Blacknail and Saeter left together. As he was walking away, the hobgoblin felt eyes on his back. He glanced over his shoulder at Red Dog and noticed another man at his side. While the bandit lieutenant was acting slightly odd, the other man was glaring daggers at the hobgoblin. Blacknail could practically feel the man’s hatred like hot breath on his skin. Something was definitely up.
“I think I’m going to head back to the tents and get
a drink,” Saeter told Blacknail.
“I’m going to check the rabbit traps,” the hobgoblin replied louder than he had to.
Saeter grunted in reply, and a second later, the hobgoblin was walking toward the edge of the forest. The sun hung low toward the horizon, and soon Blacknail passed the last building and stepped into the long shadows cast by the trees.
The hobgoblin ducked under a low tree branch, then stepped around a thorny bush. He trudged through the underbrush with heavy steps. A loud snap reverberated through the forest as he stepped on a twig.
A few minutes later, he arrived at the place he had set the snares. Blacknail looked around and spotted the larger trap he had set up as well. He had placed it next to the trail as both an experiment and in order to catch larger game that tried to poach from his rabbit snares. It hadn’t been sprung yet.
The hobgoblin stepped around the trap and over to where his smaller traps had caught a few rabbits. With a bored yawn, Blacknail took off his cloak and hung it on the branch of a nearby bush. He took a few seconds to position it correctly before lying down next to the bushes.
It was time to take a nap. He was safe here from people trying to make him clean up or do work. Blacknail yawned quietly as he closed his eyes and laid his head against a small rock. A few minutes went by before the sound of something large moving through the underbrush reached his ears. Blacknail frowned, but he ignored it and didn’t move. He was feeling lazy.
There was a loud snap. Blacknail’s eyes opened just in time to see a crossbow bolt tear thought the cloak he had hung up. It caught the fabric and ripped it completely off the branch. The cloak fell onto the ground and was held there by the quivering bolt.
“Damnation, did I get him?”
The hobgoblin remained lying on the ground. Idly, he looked at his cloak. It seemed as though it had been completely ruined. That was annoying.
The crossbowman moved closer with cautious steps. There was another loud snapping noise, but it wasn’t a crossbow bolt this time. It was Blacknail’s anti-poaching snare.
“Ah, fucking hells!” he yelled as he was pulled into the air.