Goblin Apprentice

by Gerhard Gehrke

  “Blades…” Alma said.

  He held a hand up. “Don’t worry, I got this. Me and Spicy the magic goblin are just having a conversation.” He came forward one careful step at a time.

  “He’s drunk,” Rime said.

  Blades nodded. “I keep hoping I’d wake up and find you all gone. But here we are. And now you’re giving orders like you’re actually someone. But you’re not. You’re just a little nothing with no soul and no purpose but to get underfoot and stink up the place.”

  “It’s your kind that smells,” Spicy said.

  Blades held out his hand. “Give me the lamp.”

  Spicy chucked it over the side and it splashed into the water.

  A scowl crossed the mercenary’s face. He lunged for Spicy. Spicy leapt back and slapped a fist on the deck above where Fath was sleeping.

  Blades froze. Then, after waiting a moment, he stepped forward and gave Spicy a hard shove, knocking him down.

  “Pet’s still hibernating,” Blades said. He climbed up to the top of the deck and snatched up Pix. Pix screamed and squirmed.

  Rime grabbed the boat hook. “Put him down!”

  Spicy picked up the closest weapon he could find: the empty wine bottle.

  Pix wailed as Blades dangled him over the side.

  “Lots of snakes in the water,” Blades said. “Probably fish with big teeth, too. I hear the delta even has freshwater sharks. Lots of things that might tear a goblin to pieces in seconds, and I’ll bet they’re all down there waiting.”

  Spicy got ready to throw the bottle. “You drop him, you’re going in next.”

  “You think you’re good enough to do that?”

  “Blades,” Alma said, “knock it off.”

  “I’m just having fun.” He shook Pix one final time before setting him on the deck. Pix ran to Rime, who pulled him out of the man’s reach.

  Blades gave a backward wave and went back to his blankets.

  Alma grabbed the partially drained wine bottle before he could pick it up. “That’s enough of that. Settle down or you’re off the boat.”

  “Give me my bottle.”

  She poured it out into the water. Blades looked like he might attack her, but instead he plopped down on his bed and began to bundle up. Spicy kept an eye on him until it sounded like he was asleep.

  Rime handed a still-hyperventilating Pix over to Dill, who took over comforting him.

  “Why didn’t the dragon wake up?” Rime whispered.

  Spicy shook his head. “Maybe he doesn’t consider this important enough. As long as someone gets him where he’s going, he won’t be bothered.”

  Domino was crouched down and reaching into the hold where Fath lay.

  Rime snapped his fingers. “Dom, stay out of there.”

  “But he’s warm.”

  “It’s not safe. Come on.” He scooped her up and placed her down in their own cluster of blankets.

  “I know why you can’t wake him,” Domino said in her chirping voice.

  “Why’s that, honey?” Spicy asked.

  “He’s dream-time sleeping. And he won’t wake up until he comes back. Like Mommy.”

  Spicy looked at Rime. While many of the faces of the dead had become a blur, Domino’s mother had distinctly been among those slain by the raiders. Domino went to bed without any fuss.

  Once Spicy was alone with Rime, he asked, “What did you tell her, Rime?”

  “Something for her to hang on to. We have to tell them something. It’s what I’ve been doing this whole time. So when do we get off this boat? Where are we even going?”

  Spicy thought of several lies and picked one.

  Chapter Forty

  The black flag made from Blades’s shirt worked like a charm.

  The lamp might have attracted the pirates sooner, but the goblin had smashed it and raised a fuss. Alma knew, just like anyone who plied the water of the delta, that a light shined prominently from a docked boat meant trade. Most boats didn’t carry a second light. There was no “leave me alone” signal.

  But the black flag was a more deliberate signal, a warning—and, in Alma’s case, an invitation.

  The shores had eyes. It had only taken a half day to attract the wanted attention. The two-sail single-mast vessel had caught up with them, its own black flag flying in response. The black shirt on their own mast meant her boat, unknown to the locals, was stolen or she had high-priority merchandise that needed to exchange hands quickly. It also indicated she was one of them. If this couldn’t be proven or the pirates were particularly nasty, they might take whatever they wanted without compensation.

  Alma took some comfort in the knowledge that the delta, although large, was its own community with rules and reputations to uphold. Pirates were first and foremost traders who needed each other. But calling it a brotherhood was a stretch. That was for children’s books, and Alma had no illusions. She knew she might be summoning her doom.

  Again, her hand touched the glyph on the bow. Once choices were made, all that was left was for the dice to land.

  She recognized the black flag once it got closer. A bony hand with an upturned middle finger.

  “I’ve never heard you swear like that,” Blades said.

  She hadn’t realized she had been speaking out loud.

  He staggered next to her and peered across the water at the approaching boat. “Is that who you were expecting?”

  “They’ll do,” Alma said. “Keep your wits. And mind your tongue. Let me do the talking.”

  “Yeah, whatever. It’ll be nice to get off the water and away from that thing.”

  She followed his gaze as he looked back at the aft cabin. The dragon was still tucked in its hold. The goblins all appeared sick. Spicy and the other goblin boy were doing their best to care for them and hadn’t noticed the oncoming boat.

  “Can I get my shirt back?”

  “Leave it.”

  Blades looked like he was about to say something when he leaned over the side and vomited. Of all the men Alma had served with, she marveled that he had survived where so many others hadn’t. But soon she would be free of him, free of the dragon, and very, very wealthy.

  The boat that followed kept pace and made no attempt to overtake them. Perhaps its captain wanted to see if she knew where she was going. She did. Though the landscape shifted with the changing tide, she recognized enough of it to know she was on course.

  ***

  A few low hills separated the narrowing waterways. The muddy bottom of the channel was now visible in many places and Alma reined in their speed. The trees rose higher and grew thick patches of moss and droopy, dangling vines.

  Blades had slept in during all the morning’s boat preparations and only now rose to once again plunder his pickle jar. Spicy had helped as much as he could but Dill was vomiting and Pix couldn’t stop coughing, so he assisted Rime in comforting them as best as possible. By late morning, all five children were sullen and miserable.

  They had emerged out onto a wide waterway. The wind had almost died away. It was Blades’s turn to start throwing up. He still wasn’t wearing his shirt.

  “Why is that still up there?” Spicy asked Alma.

  The arms of the shirt had been tied off and it flapped like a flag.

  “For luck,” Alma said.

  “Take it down. I don’t like it up there.”

  She didn’t respond, keeping a hand on the boom as she stared ahead. There would be no way to get the shirt without untying ropes. He was about to shimmy up the pole when she announced, “We’re close.”

  “What do you mean, we’re close? You don’t know where we’re going. How can you possibly—”

  That was when Blades hit him over the head with something hard and everything went black.

  ***

  The other goblins hadn’t noticed Blades knock Spicy down and tie him up. Rime had a blanket wrapped around him and was busy helping one of the girls with her shoes. The rest were bundled up on their bed.
<
br />   Alma headed to the back of the boat and brought out a tarp. She shoved Rime down with the others. When he began to protest, she put a finger to her lips.

  “Shh. Another ship is here. You’ll need to be quiet. Put this over you.”

  The children began to cry and speak all at the same time.

  “What? Wait!” Rime said. “Where’s Spicy?”

  She threw the tarp over them. “Don’t make a sound. Don’t move a muscle. They’re going to board us. If they know goblins are aboard, they’ll kill us all. I’m going to have to talk to them and bribe them with some of our goods. No peeking.”

  She waved Blades forward. He dragged over a pair of folded nets, which they unpacked and spread over the aft hold’s entrance. Moving quickly, they began to secure the edges of the net, tying it to as many sections of the rail as possible. It wouldn’t hold the dragon long, but it would buy a few precious seconds. Alma then dropped her sail. The boat slowed. They hurried to the bow and waited as the oncoming pirate vessel closed in.

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Your man looks sick,” the man named Wes said as he looked Blades over.

  Wes was bald and muscular and oddly free of markings, tattoos, or piercings. Blades had needed help stepping aboard the pirate vessel. He looked pale. Their own boat was being tied on so it could be towed. One pirate brought Spicy over, still unconscious, but the other goblins were being left behind.

  Alma tried to step past Wes but he blocked her way.

  “Let me see your captain,” Alma said.

  “He’s busy. You’ll bargain with me.”

  She looked him over. “If you’re the man with the coin, so be it. But this is more than the goods on board or even the price of the prize vessel. There’s something in the hold he’ll want to hear about.”

  “I’m listening,” Wes said with a suggestive purr. “That’s all that matters.”

  “I’m not going to waste my time. If this is still Middle Finger’s boat, then he’ll have final say. You don’t have enough coin in your general kitty to cover your end. I don’t want you to lose face.”

  “How do you know I don’t have enough in my sack for a little number like yours?”

  Alma sighed. The men on board the Sin Nombre all appeared keen on the conversation. As far as they were concerned, there might be two throats to cut and a decent boat with cargo to sell. Alma had never met Wes. And if there was a new captain, all bets were off.

  “The captain of the Sin Nombre never gave his second more than two hundred tencoin. Maybe that’s gone up since I left, but I doubt it.”

  Wes scowled. “You served on the Sin Nombre? I don’t remember you.”

  “Slightly different flag, completely different boat, and not that many seasons ago. Which means you’re new. Now, Mr. Wes, will you please inform the captain we need to talk?”

  “He can’t right now.” He nodded to a nearby sailor. The man brought a small coffer over and held it open. Four purses were inside. “There’s your two hundred. Let’s call it a deposit on the boat. The rest of the goods and whatever your special item is can wait until we make Bird’s Landing.”

  He offered a hand. She shook it.

  “One other thing,” she said. “You’ll want some archers on your stern who know how to shoot.”

  Captain Middle Finger’s cabin was spacious for a delta boat, with enough room for a desk and a single large chair where a man wearing thick bifocals sat. The glasses magnified the pirate’s eyes as he looked up at Alma and Wes. Middle Finger then returned his attention to an array of tiny scraps of paper. He wrote with a quill pen, dipping it frequently into an inkwell. His movements were frantic and he scribbled erratically, switching between the papers as if composing separate letters simultaneously. His lips moved as he worked.

  Wes cleared his throat. “Sir, the captain of the captured vessel is here.”

  Middle Finger ignored him.

  “Prize vessel,” Alma corrected. “Captain, I served with you before your promotion under Captain Hill. Back then, the Sin Nombre was a longboat with a cracked and banded mast.”

  The captain smiled and nodded. His writing didn’t slow. “Captain Hill. Choked on a chicken bone two years ago. Crew nominated me.”

  “That we did, sir,” Wes said.

  “Some said it was poison. I say you have to chew your food. Count to twenty before you swallow, every mouthful. Or ten twice, if it’s your preference. I remember you.”

  Alma nodded deferentially. “And I, you. Captain Hill liked that you knew your numbers.”

  “A prize vessel, then,” Middle Finger said. “And worth more than two hundred coin.”

  “The vessel alone, yes. It’s a solid merchant boat. It’s also filled with foodstuffs from Eel Port. A thousand coin for the lot of it including the boat is my price, and that’s a bargain. But that’s not the prize.”

  Middle Finger finally looked up at her.

  “I have a dragon in my hold. And he’s for sale.”

  The captain came up on deck and shuffled to the stern rail, where a pair of guards with bows kept watch on Alma’s boat.

  “He’s in there under the nets,” Alma said. “It’s not perfect and it won’t hold him. I’ve seen him kill a dozen men twice over. I’d recommend using a clay bomb or two and then killing it, as I have no idea how you’d get him out of the cage.”

  “You have goblins, I see.”

  Spicy had been brought on board the Sin Nombre. The others remained on her boat and had emerged from under the tarp. They huddled together in silence.

  “They’re for sale as well,” Alma said. “All young, in perfect health, taken from a small village in the Monster Lands.”

  Middle Finger continued to look down at her boat. “I don’t trade in slaves. I’ll want that boat up on a dock to inspect it. You’ve come all the way down from the Monster Lands? Boat spends too much time in that Inland Sea water, it eats the caulking. I’ll need to see the chines.”

  “The boat’s from Eel Port and it was the best vessel in the harbor.”

  He let out a laugh. “That’s not saying much.”

  “Don’t try to screw me. It’s a solid boat. But do your inspection. Let’s talk about the dragon.”

  “What goods are there?”

  She let out an exasperated breath. “Just about all the foodstuffs that you can imagine. Look, that’s the least of it. But the dragon—”

  “We’ll come to that. Whose boat was this?”

  Alma realized she hadn’t any papers on it. Not a problem in Orchard City or the surrounding area, but anyone using the boat to trade or even travel within the bay and heading to Pinnacle would have issues with the archduke’s authorities. Registration, trade permits, guild tags, and signed letters certifying the payment of harbor “fees” all meant a boat without papers would be of limited use.

  But Alma understood the game of haggling and had anticipated the incoming denigration of her boat’s worth. And a forger could be summoned faster than a priest in Orchard City.

  “It’s unregistered,” she said.

  “Stolen.”

  “I haven’t obtained any permits from the Old Bay Kingdom nor Pinnacle because I’ve never taken her there. So the buyer will have to take care of that. I’ll of course fill out a bill of sale on her. But you’re only the first potential buyer.”

  “If you were going to shop her around, I’d hazard you wouldn’t fly the black to find a purchaser.”

  “I consider that a professional courtesy to my colleagues.”

  He let out a dry laugh. “This is quite the haul for two mercenaries. That is your line of work now, isn’t it?”

  “Is that what you want to talk about? Me? And really, you’re going to quibble on the price of my boat or the goods on deck? It’s the creature inside the hold that’s the prize, and I need to know if I’m talking to the right captain.”

  Blades had come up behind them, but Wes blocked his path. Palms up, Blades backed away but didn’t go far.r />
  “Don’t worry, I was coming to that,” Middle Finger said. “I wanted to see if you were the woman I remembered, and you don’t disappoint. We can agree on the asking price of your boat and its cargo. Professional courtesy, yes? But a dragon…that intrigues me. How is it possible you apprehended such a creature?”

  “Blood and sweat, mostly. It killed many. We hurt it.” She didn’t want to say more.

  “And it obediently slunk into the hold.”

  “It’s in there now. Whether you believe me or not is on you. But ignore it at your peril.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I believe you. It’s the ones you’ve known to lie who tell the best truths. But as you can imagine, I must confirm it’s real. And alive. And then we’ll have to discuss what exactly to do about it.”

  She forced herself not to smile.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Two sails on a high mast. That was all Spicy could see as it swayed above him. He tried to rise but discovered he was trussed up with rope. A gag was fixed around his mouth and he was lying between several barrels. The boots of men stepped around him. He wormed his way backward until he could sit up.

  He was no longer on his boat. A rope tied to several cleats ran taut across the water, where the boat they had taken from Eel Port was being dragged.

  A man with a bandana shoved Spicy back down.

  “Where are—”

  He was kicked in the side. It knocked the wind from him.

  Blades patted the man on the shoulder. “I got this.” A wolfish grin crossed his face.

  The man with the bandana moved along. Blades drew his small knife and looked Spicy over. “Where to start. You’ve been nothing but trouble and I can’t wait to hear you make funny noises.”

  “Alma, control your man,” a gruff voice barked.

  “Martin,” Alma said.

  Blades hovered a moment longer before flipping the blade up into the air. It plunged towards Spicy’s face and stuck in the deck next to his ear. Blades retrieved it before moving off, laughing.