Goblin Apprentice

by Gerhard Gehrke

  “Why don’t you leave? Why don’t the other goblins run? I saw them in the field. There was no one guarding them.”

  “Some do run. Some must make it because they don’t come back. But the dogs find most of them and then they get punished.”

  Spicy leaned back from the soup. “What happens to them?”

  “It’s bad. And it keeps most of the other slaves from ever trying anything. But that’s Bliss. So why on earth would you sneak in here?”

  “I’m looking for a few goblin children who were taken from my village. They must have come here recently to be sold.”

  Daphne dropped her eyes.

  “What is it?” Spicy asked.

  “Five young children, four girls, one boy. And an older teenage boy about your age.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I know because I processed their sale. They were purchased and put on a boat yesterday.”

  Chapter Ten

  Blades hobbled to the stream and appeared ready to collapse by the time the three soldiers were readying their horses. Military prudence would have dictated they fortify their camp because of the late hour, but Alma waited and paced. Each mile down the mountain bought them time. And with the three setting such a sloppy camp, there was no way to know whether they had been spotted.

  “Let me ride one of the horses,” Blades said.

  Billy finished strapping a pack with bedrolls on one of the animals. “They’re already half-lame. There’s no saddle. And we need them for our supplies.”

  “I don’t care. Drop the junk. I’m taking that one.”

  Billy had started to step aside when Alma intervened. “No, Blades, that’s not going to happen.”

  Blades scowled. “You’re not in charge here. I’m taking the horse.”

  His hand went to the handle of his knife. Alma only carried the bow and had no hand weapon, but she stood her ground. Billy and the other two were watching.

  “If you don’t move away from that horse, you’ll be walking alone. If you don’t take your hand from your knife, you’ll be bleeding out for the tribesmen to find you. They’ve been following us for an hour. Did you miss the bird trill? They’re watching.”

  Blades looked over his shoulder, doubt in his eyes. “I didn’t hear anything.”

  “That’s because you walk too loud.”

  She waited. Blades swallowed hard. His hand left the knife and he raised it to show it was empty.

  “It looks like the stream makes a straight shot down,” Alma said, pointing. “Get a head start and we’ll catch up. One good hour of hiking, Blades, that’s all I’m asking. Then you get to eat and rest.”

  It looked like he was about to say something but then he hobbled past, leaning hard on the spear.

  Once he was out of earshot, Billy leaned in. “I didn’t hear a trill of any bird. Granted, my hearing’s never been keen.”

  “I didn’t either,” Alma said. “But I told him what he needed to hear.”

  Billy let out a snorting laugh. “All right you men, you heard the lieutenant. Vine, get your boots on. Elias, lead the horses.”

  With the fire out and their gear collected, they moved downstream. Even a casual eye would see the signs of the camp. Perhaps nightfall would obscure their departure. But Alma went last, scanning the trees and the open rock for any movement.

  Because she had heard a trill. It had been the call of a mountain jay, but louder than any real bird. It meant they had company, and Alma wanted to choose the time and place when she met them.

  It was getting dark when the stream vanished under rock near the top of a small ravine. In good light the climb down the bramble side would be tricky. But as the sunlight faded to nothing, it would be impossible.

  Alma caught up with Billy. “Any arrows in your gear?”

  He shook his head. “A few javelins, one spear, my sword.” He didn’t bother to mention their knives.

  A space between the trees opened to a broad patch of dirt. It would have been an ideal site to lay camp if they had the men to place sentries in among the towering pines.

  “Horses there,” Alma said, pointing to the open patch of ground. Blades was already sitting. “Which of your two men walk the softest?”

  Billy shrugged. “Me, I guess.”

  “Take the javelins. Follow me.”

  He did as instructed. If they were hunting, she’d want him at a good distance to catch their prey in a crossfire. But there wasn’t time to lay a proper ambush for anyone following. The darkest places in the trees would have to suffice. As she selected their spot, the sounds of the horses carried. Even well-trained animals snorted, shifted, and made a host of other sounds.

  Unless the tribals were deaf, they would find them.

  Billy leaned on a tree and kept watch.

  Alma crouched nearby and readied an arrow. Two shots. All she would have were two shots.

  With her thumb, she traced the glyph on the bow. Soldiers were such children, she decided. Victories attributed to gods. Failures blamed on leaders. And every manner of success and inconvenience pinned to wind, chance, and stars. Meanwhile, she had proven that preparation and training would take the day time and again.

  Whoever was slinking their direction was good.

  She heard no footfall and spotted no shine of moonlight on skin. But a glint off a spear tip caught her eye. The shape moved slowly. Human, not goblin. She waited for it to get closer. Her breathing remained calm. She kept the arrow pressed to the string but resisted the urge to pull back on the bow. It would make noise. She had to wait until she was prepared to fire and hitting the target would be certain. But that meant allowing the stalker to get close. And how many more were there?

  He came closer. Fifty feet. Then thirty. For a moment she thought he had vanished, but he had only paused. When the low form moved again it was perfectly lined up between two trees.

  In one motion she pulled the bow back as she raised it. The weapon creaked. The arrow was too short and dropped off the shelf. She almost snapped the string and it took a second to secure the projectile and reposition it. She again prepared to fire, but the shadow had vanished.

  “See something?” Billy whispered.

  She ignored him. But then she heard a snap just beyond his position. Another figure was moving. She pivoted and fired, this time remembering to not draw back as far.

  The arrow flew. It sailed inches away from Billy’s face and plunged dead center into whatever shadow was rushing their way. A man screamed, a guttural cry, as the tribal fell and thrashed. But then the first shape appeared again and charged at her.

  She pulled the second arrow from her sack. Instinct and training took over as she fired without hesitating. The hard thwack of an arrow striking flesh told her she had found her mark. This man grunted and stumbled but didn’t go down.

  Alma drew her knife and rushed forward.

  But then a third man jumped at her from the shadows. A hard blow knocked the knife from her hand. Pain radiated up her arm from her wrist. She backed away in time to avoid a second swing from the club. Her heel caught a root and she stumbled.

  The tribal made no sound as he charged after her. The moonlight caught the chalky markings of his body paints. Then he grunted in pain as Billy drove a javelin into his side. The soldier pulled the weapon free and thrust down again and again. Alma didn’t wait but cut the throats of the other two tribals and pulled her precious arrows free.

  No more shadows were moving.

  She let out a savage howl. Her voice cracked as she laughed.

  When she noticed Billy just staring, she said, “Let them know we’re here and waiting for more of them to come.”

  Billy howled, too.

  No more tribals came at them for the rest of the night.

  Chapter Eleven

  Spicy paced the library as Daphne dug through a rolltop desk and pulled out a ledger. He tightened the belt to the robe. The sale of the goblin children had been made to an August Dufresne. Daphne wa
s searching for any more information on the buyer.

  “He’s a merchant who makes regular runs down to Orchard City.”

  “Is that as big as Bliss?”

  Daphne let out a dry laugh. “Bliss is no city. It’s just barely a town. You really haven’t gotten to see much of the world, have you?”

  “And you have?” he asked irritably. “Sitting here with all your books. And helping the humans sell goblins?”

  “Don’t judge me. All I did was file paperwork. Now if you don’t mind, I need to go through this.”

  “Let me help.”

  “No offense, but I heard you read. If you help, it will take me longer.”

  Spicy began pulling books from the shelves, only to forget where they belonged immediately after looking at them. He put them back the best he could but knew he wasn’t getting it right.

  Daphne ignored him.

  A few of the volumes closest to the windows had mold on them. Many of the books he flipped through were just as difficult to understand as the book on plants. He skimmed pages on metals, on printing, on medicine, and on dealing with aging. Many of the “cures” had little to offer but hot and cold compresses and prayers to the Divine Mother. There were several shelves of religious texts. Most of these had long poems to be read aloud, along with block-printed pictures of a woman with a halo making vague gestures with her hands.

  He began to suspect Sage Somni’s library, while smaller, held more actual knowledge.

  High in one bookcase were a few bound books of maps. These were either sparsely detailed or focused on areas either fictional or unknown. Why did the humans know so little of their own world?

  The shelves with the storybooks continued to intrigue him the most. He leafed through a few. The pictures and words told tales of adventure and discovered treasures. Colored illustrations featured high castles and mountain ranges and deserts and rivers of places he had never dreamed of. One book that caught his attention had a group of young men who hunted a dragon to retrieve a stolen princess. The dragon in that book had wings. What a dragon would want with a human female remained a mystery.

  “I think I have it,” Daphne said. “August Dufresne is registered here as a merchant in Orchard City, like I suspected. But all his goods come through Eel Port.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Across the sea. About two days in a boat. But there’s no way you’re going to get there. And even if you catch up, your friends will be gone by now. And If they catch you, they’ll kill you or sell you off, too.”

  The thought of climbing into a boat again made him queasy. “It’s where I have to go.”

  “No, you don’t. It’s crazy. How could you even make it there? You plan on swimming? Do you have a boat with rowers and men who know how to sail?”

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  She slid off her chair and began to tidy up everything he had taken down. She pulled one of the works of fiction off the shelf and handed it to him. “This one is about a family that tries to sail the night seas to the moon.”

  He studied the star printed in the cover. “Sounds stupid.”

  “Then put it back and pick another one. I can help you read better. You know more than any other goblin in Bliss, I can tell you that. Stay here. Keep me company. My master will never know. Or I’ll convince him I need help with the chores.”

  He gave the book back. “I can’t. I have to go after them. They don’t belong here in man’s world. They don’t belong to anyone. They have a home in Athra.”

  “Athra? Where’s that?”

  “To the northwest of the sea up in the hills. I heard the humans call it Monster Land.”

  She chuckled. “Monster Land. Like you’re some monster.”

  “That’s where we live. If I get the kids free, that’s where we’ll be going. It’s where you could go too, and every other goblin that lives here. It would be just like the stories you have here. You could leave this place and never come back.”

  “Oh, but if that were only possible.”

  She packed food into a small backpack along with the book with the star on the cover. Into his hand she pressed a purse with money, both coins and paper. He hadn’t seen paper money before.

  “The archduke uses scrip,” she said. “It’s officially worthless in any of the towns belonging to Pater the Zealot. It’s illegal for open purchases. But most merchants still use it. If I were to give you any advice, it’s to not go to Eel Port.”

  “Won’t you get into trouble giving me all this?” Spicy asked.

  “Like I said, my master Barberos is blind. The last time he looked at his books, he couldn’t read his own writing, let alone mine. And there’s enough bribes that get left with me that don’t show up in any ledger.”

  “Why are you being so generous? Couldn’t you use this money for yourself?”

  “It’s not that easy. There are no free goblins in Bliss or in Midsea. When you go out of here, everyone is going to suspect you’re an escaped slave. Even in Eel Port. You’ll need a human to act as your master.”

  “I don’t know any humans.”

  “Then you’ll have to do a good job at hiding.”

  From upstairs, a man bellowed. “Daphne!”

  “Someone’s awake. I need to check on him. You need to get out of here. Go out the back. Or say the word, and I’ll find a place to hide you. It’s not too late to change your mind.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t.”

  Barberos called again.

  Daphne gave his hands a squeeze before trotting up the stairs. He watched her leave, wishing he could make the wrong choice.

  Spicy took a last look at the treasure of books. Once alone, Spicy reached up and took one of the atlases. One of the maps had Orchard City and Pinnacle marked, at least, but had no geographic features besides the vaguely marked Inland Sea and the ocean to the west.

  The atlas barely fit inside the backpack.

  He realized he had no idea where she’d put his clothes. After a cursory search, he came up empty.

  From upstairs, Barberos was shouting. “There’s someone here, isn’t there?”

  Spicy swore. He slipped into his shoes and headed out the back of the house. Shouldering the backpack, he ran, the bottom of the blue bathrobe dragging through the mud.

  Chapter Twelve

  For the next three days and nights, Alma’s soldiers were certain they could hear the tribesmen following them. Alma detected no sounds besides those of actual birds and a black bear she had spotted, but she kept the news to herself.

  Blades’s ankle had improved enough that his complaints now focused on the fact that Alma had used him as bait to lure the tribals to their camp. He also wanted to eat the horses because the hardtack was all gone.

  Alma vetoed the idea. For the moment.

  The morning air was chilly when they made it to the road near the shore. A half day’s walk put them back at the beach where they had landed. A lone dark gull hovered over the gleaming gray water. The boats were a ruin. The scattered corpses of the men were picked almost clean.

  Billy shuddered. “It came out of the water without warning. It was the same troll. It still had your arrows in its head. May the Mother take the troll and the sea.”

  The other two privates murmured their agreement.

  Alma scoured the ground. The chain and ropes that had bound their captive troll still lay near the blackened bones where they had burned the creature.

  “Go through everything,” she said.

  When the other men hesitated, not wanting to come down closer to the shoreline, Billy waved them on. They sifted through the debris scattered across the rocky beach. Buzzards and gulls dispersed and circled about overhead.

  Blades just watched the water. “Think it’s still out there?”

  Alma studied the few patches of sand and mud. She discovered an oversized footprint near a few remains which were covered with flies and tiny green crabs. “After it killed the men, it continued
to head up the shore on land.”

  “Well, judging by the bodies, it only ate some of the men it murdered. Maybe you should tell the men that.”

  “Having them think the troll’s looking for them for its next meal keeps them motivated.”

  Blades smirked. “Lord would be proud of you. Tell them what they need to hear, right?”

  She shot him an angry look. But Billy and the other two weren’t close enough to overhear.

  “Hey, peace, sister. I’m not saying that’s a bad plan. But we’ll need more than a fear of trolls and mountain bogeymen to get us back home.”

  “Don’t call me sister. And I’m aware of our situation. We need food, shelter, and rest. And those bogeymen almost pitched you off a cliff and would have killed you if we didn’t stop them. I don’t know what you hope to salvage here, but I’ve decided I’m not returning south empty-handed.”

  “Did you miss the fact we’re starving and stuck in enemy country? If the zealots catch us, they’re not going to check our records with the mercenary company to see if we’re a good hire. They’re going to do horrible things that’ll make getting chucked down a mountain look pleasant.”

  “We’re missing something here, Martin. The troll was after us because we had the other troll captured. It makes it to the boats, destroys them, kills anyone here, finds its dead comrade. That should be the end of it, right? We caught our troll near the mouth of the Eel. It should be going back home. But this one is going inland. Why?”

  “You know what bears do in the woods.”

  “You’re such an idiot.”

  “So maybe it wanted a change of diet. Looking for a new home. Who knows what a troll does? They’re brainless monsters.”

  She found a second troll footprint and probed it with a finger. “Maybe. But that goblin we took prisoner on the water showed up just before it attacked during our crossing. What if the troll was with him?”

  “Like monsters working together? What, did they unionize?”

  “The goblins clearly had some sort of association with the dragon. All their glyphs. Their books. They all led to the dragon cave. It’s like the dragon is their god. The troll’s part of this too.”