Goblin Apprentice

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Goblin Apprentice Page 7

by Gerhard Gehrke


  He waited for an answer. But the dragon at the back of the boat had fallen asleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The large number of crows above the trees caught Alma’s attention. She walked point well ahead of the others and paused to watch.

  They were on the road but keeping a keen eye and ear out for other travelers. She hadn’t decided if she was going to rob them, murder them, or hide if they encountered anyone. Information would be good. She was unfamiliar with the territory. No one in the mercenary company had known much about the Empire of the Inland Sea and none had ventured to the west bank.

  Billy appeared first.

  She waved to catch his attention, then motioned towards the birds. He acknowledged the signal but she wasn’t waiting for the others. She headed towards the circling flock. She already knew what they meant.

  The camp was a horror show.

  The crows, vultures, and gulls picking over the human corpses all had plenty to eat. She had a hard time counting how many men had once been here, as they had been torn to pieces and not by the birds. She walked the perimeter of the camp. It didn’t take long to find the troll tracks. The giant humanoid had no doubt surprised the men at their campfire.

  The nearest crows chattered their complaints as she shooed them off, but they merely hopped out of reach and waited. A pair of goblins had been there. One had set off south, along with the troll. The tracks were all fresh. But something else had been there too, and these tracks gave her pause.

  Judging by the stains in the dirt, one of the men had been killed by something other than the troll. The five-talon claw marks made her breath catch.

  The dragon. It didn’t make sense.

  She reexamined the rippled indentations in the dirt. It looked like a massive snake had slithered away from the savaged corpse.

  The dragon, the troll, the goblin. All in one location.

  She focused on what she could see with her eyes, not wanting to jump to any insane conclusions. What scenario explained all three in one location? Maybe they were in pursuit of one another. Maybe dragons ate trolls. But the men were the only ones who had bled and died.

  There was little by the campfire worth salvaging. Billy signaled with a whistle, but she wasn’t ready to call back that all was clear. She began a wider circuit until she found what she was after. The troll had indeed departed in the same direction as the dragon and one of the goblins, and they were heading south too.

  She entertained the mad idea that was forming in her mind. There was a possibility she might salvage something from Lord’s failed enterprise. And if she pulled it off, she would be fabulously wealthy.

  “What did you find?” Blades asked.

  She was surprised he had gotten so close without her noticing. He could be stealthy when he needed to be, even hobbling as he was. She gestured for him to move along with her, but his interest remained on the birds back in the trees.

  “It’s nothing. Just a dead horse.”

  “Any good meat left on it?”

  “No, it’s all bad and has been mostly picked clean. Let’s go.”

  He still wasn’t moving. Crouching, he put his hand to a clump of bent grass. It was one of the dragon prints. He arched an eyebrow.

  “What have you found here?” he asked softly.

  “Nothing the rest of them need to know about.”

  “No? And what about me? You keeping this secret to yourself that there are dragons here?”

  Billy appeared on the trail leading back to the road. If Blades spoke any louder, he might be overheard.

  Alma pulled Blades close and spoke softly. “All right. The dragon, the troll, and our goblin are traveling together. We appear to be just behind them moving the same direction.”

  “Wait a minute. You’re telling me we’re following the dragon now? Why would you keep this to yourself?”

  “I just figured it out. Relax, Martin. It means if we’re careful we might find out where they’re going. There could be an opportunity for us.”

  Blades nudged the print with his crutch. “Yeah, for us to get killed. You saw how many soldiers that thing went through without raising a sweat, Lord included.”

  “I shot it with more than a few arrows,” Alma said. “It bled. It’s not immune to being killed.”

  “Well, we sure didn’t come close if it’s all the way out here in front of us. Plus the troll? We need to head north and get as far away from this as possible.”

  “You’re free to do whatever you want. But I’m continuing south with Billy, Elias, and Vine. It’s our best bet to find a boat to steal. Think about it, Martin. If we get lucky and catch that creature, we’ll be set for life with more money than we could ever spend.”

  He pointed a finger at her. “Don’t call me Martin. It’s Blades. And don’t push your luck guff on me. It’s fine to keep the rabble motivated, but it’s worth less than a wooden slug to me.”

  “You misunderstand me, Blades. I’m not saying we catch the creature alive. We don’t need a live dragon to make a fortune. All we need is a claw or its head or anything else we can carve off its body. And if it’s going to be attacking troops which belong to the empire, it’s only a matter of time before we find an opportunity where a well-placed arrow will tip the scale.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The boat coasted over the water. The bow line remained taut and ran ahead of the vessel and into the water, where a series of ripples played across the surface. Spicy had wrung the soaked robe out but had pulled it back on, self-conscious in the presence of the dragon.

  Hog had been pulling them along for over an hour. They had gone straight out onto the sea, leaving the men and land far behind. Now only dark, lapping waves remained. No stars were visible above. The distinction between night and sea had vanished. Spicy curled up and clutched his legs. Tried not to think of the infinite depth beneath him or what might lurk there.

  He tried to imagine the face of his mother or father so he could conjure up some words of wisdom of what he should do. But no image came. His mind was haunted by the brutal attack the dragon had made on the troll. Other images came to him, scenes of his living nightmare. Somni, jumping to his death. The tree of dead goblins. Even the human leader Lord and his blistered face scoured by the dragon’s steaming breath.

  At least Thistle was alive. So were Rime and the children, but for how much longer? The thought of them being abused like Daphne was too much. And she had considered her slave life as superior to any of the others within Bliss.

  The only thought which consoled him was that the goblin children had financial value to whatever human owned them.

  He put his head down and struggled to keep warm. Despite being damp and cold, he began to nod off.

  It was the dragon moving that woke him. The obscured sun shone somewhere above pink mist. There was enough light to see the curtain of fog that had drawn around them. The boat still moved as it had before, but there was no telling the direction.

  Blood covered the back deck. Fath was inspecting his long body and its numerous wounds. One of his talons had broken, and his face was swollen. A bloody arrow lay on the deck near him.

  “Quit pretending you’re asleep,” Fath said.

  Spicy felt groggy and more than a little nauseous. “I’m not. I’m awake.”

  “Good. Then it’s time for your lesson.”

  “You mean writing? Now? You’re hurt. I’m sick. And the ledger and all our books are gone, aren’t they?”

  Fath made a low rumble in his throat. “I’m aware of what was left behind. We presently have the time and opportunity for you to remind me of your worth. Or would you rather again try to explain to me the nature of our current situation? No? Good. Now pick up that fishhook and use that barrel head as your tablet.”

  Spicy rose and walked back towards the dragon on shaky legs. The large steel hook didn’t make for a bad stylus. He picked it up and poised the tip of the hook above the blond wood of the barrel.

  “Sho
w me what you remember,” Fath said. “All of it.”

  Spicy hesitated. He made a couple of false starts and then, to the best of his ability, re-created several of the words the dragon had been teaching him. The lines were difficult to see, and the wood was hardly smooth. But Spicy felt a growing confidence as he drew ten words before showing the barrel to Fath.

  Fath grumbled. “Terrible. They’re all wrong. Each has added elements or missing lines, rendering each into nonsense. Haven’t you been paying attention?”

  “Give me paper and a pencil, and I’ll do better.”

  “I mean to have you working in stone,” Fath said. “You’ll have no room for error then. The medium shouldn’t matter. But if you can’t remember even the most basic lines, then your use to me will end.”

  Spicy looked at his own work. Tried to recall where he may have missed a mark. “I just need time to warm up. I’m hungry and my hand is shaking.”

  “Such a frail thing. Then write something. Anything. I doubt it will help.”

  Spicy got out the two books he had taken from the library in Bliss. The back of the small fiction book had a blank page, and he fished a nub of charcoal from his pack. Writing inside the book broke every rule Sage Somni had ever taught him.

  One word at a time, he reproduced the last grammar lesson he had read.

  The goat ate. The goat ate the apple. The goat ate the apple which had fallen from the tree. The green apple was eaten by the goat.

  He shook a cramp from his hand. The dragon squinted as he read over his shoulder.

  “This is why I teach you my language,” Fath said. “Yours leaves no room for higher thoughts.”

  “Your language? You mean the one only you can read? Or your brother, the one who lives down at Devil Mountain? What good is it if no one else can understand?”

  “That isn’t its purpose.”

  “That’s the purpose of any language. It’s why people write and put thoughts down into books. Maybe if you tell me what I’m writing it will make more sense. Because right now, I’m just copying what you’re telling me, but I don’t even get the letters or any of it. It’s just gibberish.”

  “Mind your tone, child.”

  Spicy looked at his work. “Besides, how do you even know your language remains a secret? Sage Somni had books. So do the humans. Supposedly the men in each town have libraries. If we could find one with your language it would make my learning it that much easier.”

  Fath smacked the barrel away. It flew and crashed into the front of the boat. “No one speaks our language. Its memory is lost to all but us. I teach part of it to you with great reluctance and out of necessity. And you’ll treat your knowledge as precious.”

  “I do. I will. But wouldn’t it be good to know what the humans know? We’ll need to get a map. Why not find out at the same time what they know about you? That way you and your brother and all the other dragons will know if more men like Lord will be seeking you out.”

  The boat slowed its movement. Soon it was turning in the water, pushed by the steady roll of the gentle sea. Hog’s enormous hands appeared at the side. The boat leaned as she pulled her head up and peered at Fath and Spicy. She spat a gout of water.

  “Is worm hurting you?” she asked.

  The dragon coiled itself tight.

  “We’re fine, Hog,” Spicy said. “We just knocked a barrel over. You’ve been pulling us for hours. How are you doing?”

  “Hungry. Can’t get smell out of mouth.”

  “There’ll be food on the other side.”

  “Mmm. I’ll find food now.”

  Spicy tried to call her back as she sank under the water’s surface. But she was gone save for a few bubbles.

  “She’ll return once she gets a bite to eat,” Spicy said.

  They waited.

  The fog only thickened as the day brightened. Hog had been gone for hours. Spicy strained his ears for any sounds, but the sea was quiet. He could barely believe he had become accustomed to the soft roll of the waves beneath him. At least his stomach had settled.

  With the sun vaguely overhead, it remained impossible to tell the time. The boat turned and drifted. Spicy peered down into the water but couldn’t see any sign of the troll.

  In the distance came a faint splash, followed by several more. But as he continued to listen, the sound didn’t repeat.

  “Did you hear that?” he asked.

  But Fath had his head down and was breathing steadily. He coughed a few times but settled back into slumber.

  “I guess not.”

  The gnawing sense that something lay just out of eyesight lingered. But soon the boat vibrated. The bow line went taut. They were once again moving. Whether Hog was pulling in the correct direction was impossible to tell.

  But Spicy was glad to be underway.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The troll, dragon, and goblin prints led off-trail and up into the hills. Their trail was impossible to miss, even for an inexperienced tracker. Alma made regular stops to listen. She knew the troll was capable of ambush. Her only advantage was that none of the creatures knew she and her small squad were following.

  She came across clear-cut sections of forest. There were human tracks all around, and signs of recent activity, including the dragging of lumber downhill towards the sea. Surely it meant a camp was nearby or even a village.

  Her four companions remained on the road. She caught up with them and led them to a place where they could bed down near the shore.

  “We rest for now,” she said. “This evening, I’ll go out and see who’s nearby.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Billy said.

  “I want you to keep the camp safe. This is our fallback in case I run into trouble. I’m taking Blades.”

  Billy nodded and Blades didn’t say anything, for which she was glad. She found a dry place on the ground and was asleep in moments.

  As the sun set, the two moved out.

  “Why do want me along?” Blades asked as he limped after her.

  “Because you have a good eye for trouble and we’re going up against men who might belong to the zealots.”

  “Cut the crap.”

  She grinned. “Okay, I want someone slower than me in case we have to run. But there’s a camp nearby. If they look unaffiliated, we might try to make contact.”

  She was surprised when he didn’t complain. She was doubly surprised when he kept up. Soon they came across planted fields. And instead of a woodcutter camp, they found a village with a wall.

  “They have to be Empire,” Blades said.

  “Undoubtedly. But that doesn’t mean they’re not traders first.”

  “Why don’t you go up to the gate and ask them if the town’s open for business?” Blades said.

  “I might just do that.”

  They hunkered down in the cover of brush and listened. The sun had set. Something was going on inside the walls. Dogs were barking. There were a few audible calls of alarm, and then it grew silent. For a village, it was well guarded and the wall respectable. Made sense to Alma. With trolls and mountain tribes, a settlement wouldn’t last long without defenses.

  Blades shivered. “How long are going to wait here?”

  “Let’s see if they have enough men to rotate a watch. That at least will tell us something.”

  The village only got darker. The night was deathly still. Alma stood to stretch and work a growing cramp out of her legs and back. While the guards didn’t appear to be rotating, the walls led her to believe that such a fortified place would have little in the way of easy pickings.

  Bypassing the village would be the best choice. But before she could tell Blades they were moving, an alarm went up. They watched as men ran towards the end of the harbor, where a boat appeared to be pulling away.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Blades said.

  “Look. There in the water out in front of the boat. There’s a shape there. Something is pulling the boat along.”

  “I can’t
see it.”

  “I can. It’s the troll. It has to be.”

  The boat was difficult to see in the darkness as it moved beyond the lantern light of the guards. Before long it was out of sight. But the men of the village remained active. Soon the gate opened and men came riding out. A line of eight horsemen, accompanied by dogs, were out on the road and heading their direction. She and Blades kept low as they charged past. But they didn’t go far.

  She motioned for Blades to stay put. He followed as she crept along and watched the men ride down to a nearby beach.

  “They must not know what they’re up against,” she whispered.

  Something at the water roared. The loud cry shook the air and was met with a fierce growl. It was impossible to tell what was happening with the dogs barking and the horses whinnying. As the men got closer to the commotion with their torches and lanterns, Alma gasped at what she saw.

  The dragon was fighting with the troll. The long serpent tore into the large humanoid, but the troll seemed to be impervious to the many wounds being inflicted upon it.

  The boat that had departed the harbor was in the shallow water nearby.

  Still on their horses, the men from the village hesitated. Their horses twitched, their ears flat, and protested with high-pitched neighs. The dogs were worked up into a frenzy. Alma too marveled at the battle, but she had seen both beasts before and knew the damage they could do. Perhaps the men knew of trolls. But she would wager none of them had laid eyes on a dragon.

  Finally one man led the rest forward. He slid from his saddle and barked orders. Others were trying to fire their bows from the saddle, but the arrows seemed to fly everywhere but at the oversized targets. Finally, the dogs were released and they charged towards the creatures.

  The action was obscured as someone dropped a lantern and it shattered on the ground. The troops juggled their equipment and some dismounted. Finally, when the lights were held steady, they revealed both creatures had retreated. The troll was in the water, the dragon in the boat. The men began to fire their bows with greater accuracy, but the troll pulled the boat away into the night.

 

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