Goblin Apprentice

by Gerhard Gehrke

  “Stitching,” Spicy called. “Sharp needle and thread.”

  Again, the humans responded without having to be begged. A well-stocked first aid kit was laid open. Spicy took the largest needle and thick thread. The bleeding had slowed. He used a third wad of gauze until finally the wound was only seeping. Thankful for the lessons learned while actually paying attention to the huntmaster, he began to suture Fath’s wound and tried not to think about how dirty his hands were.

  The dragon flinched but made no sound as Spicy worked.

  The girl in white picked up some of the soiled gauze. She waited and watched with fascination. Someone brought water and towels. Spicy washed and dressed the wound. Fath was breathing heavy and watching the crowd warily.

  “The street is no place for my master,” the girl in white said. “Will you be able to follow? We can form a litter. Or we can withdraw and bless the ground while you rest. The criminals who assaulted you will be punished.”

  “Lead on,” Fath said.

  The girl shouted an order. The men with torches proceeded through the village, finally arriving at a trail that led off into the trees. Fath crept along slowly behind them. Most of the people from the village stopped at the trail.

  Spicy followed, but the girl stepped in front of him. He was prepared to move her aside but was surprised when she bowed before him. She still held the bloody bandages.

  “Blessed are you who touches the blood of our master,” she said.

  Spicy stopped in his tracks. “Uh, thanks?”

  “You have our master’s favor. You are welcome here.”

  She rose and moved to catch up to Fath.

  Spicy hurried after her and tugged at her sleeve. “Are there other goblins here?”

  “You mean ones like you.”

  “Yeah, sure. Goblins.”

  “Blessed ones. No. Their feet rarely grace the same earth as ours.”

  It took him a moment to process her words. “And the dragon—where are you taking him?”

  “To our master long. So they can be reunited. Such reunions are so rare. And then we will celebrate. So I welcome you, master goblin. For blessed you are for bringing him to us.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The inside of the cave had smooth walls, much like Fath’s ruined home back in his canyon. It was clear someone had built it a long time ago. The rectangular gray bricks and mortar were stained with seeping orange, which made the walls look like they were bleeding rust. A pungent smell filled the air. The cloying aroma was a heady mix of perfume, spices, and body odor.

  Fath was breathing heavy as if exhausted, yet Spicy didn’t dare ask how he was doing. The girl in white followed demurely behind. The torchbearers had all stopped in a wide hallway where a set of double doors led to a candlelit chamber beyond. They took a knee and lowered their heads as Fath passed between them. Fath paused to smell the air. A rumble rose from his throat and then Fath slid through the doorway.

  Spicy moved to follow but the girl stopped him.

  “No. We’re not allowed unless summoned.”

  “He comes with me,” Fath called.

  She bowed and backed away. Spicy hurried to join the dragon.

  A dozen oil lamps and several candles on holders illuminated the square chamber, where a bulbous version of Fath reclined amidst stacks of goods. His body appeared to have ballooned out almost beyond the capacity of his skin to hold it all in.

  A booming laugh erupted from the creature as he considered Fath. “What a joyous surprise.”

  Several coffers with coins and items of gold lay open near him. Along one wall were a dozen bookshelves and multiple scrolls, and there was a simple writing desk set in a corner. Next to the fat dragon were trays of food, both meats and fruit, on a small table.

  He wiggled and rolled to one side, knocking the table over with his massive belly, and the fruit spilled out among the treasures around the monster.

  “Brother…” Fath said as he continued to sniff the air.

  “Surely my name will come,” the other dragon said. “But it’s hardly important. The men dare not address me. Is my scent not stirring a memory? No? Oh, Fathafanathath. Let’s keep it simple and call me Mach. But you don’t remember, do you?”

  “I remember. I choose to keep our names from the ears of lesser ones.”

  Mach laughed. “Oh, what do you think’s going to happen? Mach, Mach, Mach. That’s me. Shall I shout your name? Do you fear those who hear it will steal your soul or bind you with a spell? Have you grown superstitious over the centuries?”

  “Don’t mock me.”

  “Oh, and why not? You drag yourself before me, barely able to stand, bleeding on my floor. Dismiss your slave and take your rest.”

  Spicy started to back out of the room.

  “He stays,” Fath said. “This is my apprentice.”

  “Apprentice?” Mach hooted. The sound echoed and was loud enough to hurt Spicy’s ears. “An apprentice. Apprentice for what, exactly? Will the little creature become a dragon when he grows?”

  Fath looked about the chamber. “What is this place?”

  “This is my home. The humans outside serve me. What does it look like?”

  “You tolerate the humans in your presence?”

  “They serve me. It pleases me.”

  “Your home is on Devil Mountain. This is…”

  “Much more convenient for receiving callers. I tired of my last home. By the time the humans made it to my cave on the mountain, all their offerings had grown cold or gone stale. But here, they bring me what I need when I need it.”

  As if to make his point, Mach scarfed up a slab of bloody meat from a tray.

  Fath moved through the chamber and purposefully tipped over a silver tray with a matching spouted pitcher. Wine spilled out on the floor. With one claw, he sifted through a coffer before closing it. Then he turned his attention to the bookcases. He slithered over and plucked a book down and set his face to the open pages.

  “What is this?” Fath asked.

  “You can read still, can’t you?”

  “The ink…the pages…this is no old book.”

  “Perhaps a few decades old. Some older. Some newer. They don’t last, you know.”

  Fath sniffed the desk. He knocked over an inkwell and set his nose to it. Then he glared at his brother.

  “You allow humans to transcribe here.”

  Mach rolled onto his back, letting his gut sag between his legs. He made a dismissive wave with a claw. “And what if I do? If I want to let the humans share in what I know, that’s my business.”

  “It’s our business,” Fath said. “All of our brothers and sisters. Do you not remember the pact which binds us?”

  “Of course I remember. Our charter was written and stored in a place which has long ago been eroded away by rain, wind, and time.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Oh, I do. You see, dear brother, I’ve sent scouts out into the world to see what lies beyond the horizon of my mountain. It’s another reason why I came down here. Our term of service has long ago expired. The time of forgetting has served its purpose. With what we know, we can shepherd man forward into a new enlightenment.”

  Fath began to pull more books down until a pile lay before him. “You bare secrets that are not yours to share.”

  “What I know is mine to do with as I please,” Mach said. “In fact, I give you leave to refresh your memory of my lore, which I’ve set down on the pages here. And maybe I can pick your brain and you can share with me.”

  “It is forbidden. You’ve broken every rule we’ve sworn to in creating this library. We’ve separated so all of our knowledge will never be returned to men.”

  Mach waved a claw back and forth. “Tsk-tsk-tsk. Your memory fails you. You can’t quote part of the pact and leave out other, more pressing issues. We made our promise when we knew the world was dying. It was for the purpose of preserving knowledge, not sequestering it for all eternity. And we’
re long-lived, but not immortal. Don’t you think it’s time we ensured what we know doesn’t die with us?”

  “Now who’s ignoring pressing issues? Mankind destroyed itself with what it knows. We’re to preserve it until we can hand it off to ones more noble-minded.”

  “Like your goblin servants? I’ve heard about them.”

  Both dragons turned towards Spicy.

  “Step forward, goblin,” Mach said. “I won’t have skulking in my cave.”

  Spicy walked into the light, his head lowered, but he couldn’t help but stare at the enormous creature.

  Mach playfully patted his belly. “I’m a sight, aren’t I?” He laughed. “So, brother, you employ an apprentice and then lecture me on managing my own share of responsibility. Perhaps this was prudence on your part with your injury. But no, your eye was wounded recently. What, then, drove you to share what you know with the goblins? Surely you don’t believe such creatures are the noble-minded ones we’ve been waiting for?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I believe about goblinkind,” Fath said. “It’s humans who haven’t changed, and you’re sharing knowledge with them.”

  Mach shifted and rolled onto his stomach. He drummed his claws on the tile. “And what? Who will you report me to? What enforcement is there? Our pact was mutual. Each of us obliged to fulfill their oath. This arrangement with the humans is mere pragmatism. A necessary evil. Trust the humans instead of risking a complete loss, which, you must admit, would be a failure of all we’ve done over the centuries.”

  A deep rumble rose from Fath’s throat that turned into a growl.

  A mirthless smile crossed Mach’s face. “You’d fight me, brother?”

  Fath grew silent.

  Mach’s smile only broadened. “I thought so. Besides, this should be a joyous reunion. We have much to share. Conversations with men are so tiresome. On the morrow, we’ll feast. I’ll show you the upside of having human servants. We’ll have a ball.”

  Fath returned his attention to the books and picked through them. He squinted and examined each before moving on.

  “Is there a problem?” Mach asked.

  “Let me help, master,” Spicy said. “The lighting is poor.”

  Grabbing a lamp, he hurried over and crouched down to see the books. The covers were bare. Spicy had to open each to a front page to find a title. The writing inside was done by hand in a precise script, black ink on white paper, all written in a language he could read.

  Fath waited. “Apprentice, tell me the names of the works here.”

  Spicy read aloud. “On Dissolving Fixed Air into Solution.” He picked up another book. “Crown Ethers.” And from a third, “Propellant Engineering.”

  Spicy didn’t understand many of the words on the pages after, as he flipped through each book before moving on to the next. Some of the pages held mathematical formulae. Fath motioned for him to continue.

  “All my knowledge is here and safe with me,” Mach said.

  Spicy opened another book. Fath raised a claw for him to wait.

  “But this isn’t yours,” Fath said. “These works belong to our sister Tehamana. This is her facet of knowledge, not yours or mine. You never learned this. So how is it it’s here?”

  When Mach didn’t answer, Fath pushed the desk aside so it collided with the wall. “Where is our sister?”

  Mach made an exasperated sigh. “I really would have preferred not to harm you. We need each other. I need what you know. Tehamana didn’t understand either, and it’s all such a waste to bring what we’ve preserved down through the ages only to lose so much of it. At least with her, she shared most of her knowledge before she realized once it was set down in writing, she had no more purpose.”

  “You killed her.”

  “Oh, I had no other option. She was beside herself. I weep now, thinking on it. But you still have a choice. We are brothers, after all. We have the bond of a shared purpose and can still discuss this further, and maybe even share a laugh once we come to an agreement.”

  Spicy backed away when he saw Fath breathing hard and expelling steam.

  “But you didn’t send a scout or an envoy to find me, Mach,” Fath said. “You sent a band of humans to kill me.”

  “Capture! Capture! And see if you were even still alive! And, in the event of your having passed, to discover what you may have left behind. Because I know, like me, you’re also driven. You would do anything to preserve what you know. It’s a compulsion with us, isn’t it? But my way—my way—is so much better. This is life, among others, with comfort, not spending unending years alone while our brains rot and the world forgets us. How is your mind, brother? Do you even remember half of what you’ve taken in? Or are you forgetting? Are there blanks? Dark spots? Haze? What’s left of the man I once knew?”

  When Fath sprang forward, Spicy had to duck to avoid his swinging tail. The dragon collided with his brother and they rolled and smashed through the tables and trappings set out around the chamber. They began slashing at each other with their claws. Fath roared. Mach hissed. A tray was knocked in Spicy’s direction and it clanged against a nearby bookcase.

  Spicy scrambled towards the doors. The humans were just outside, eyes wide. But two of them wearing white robes were running forward and holding crossbows larger than any he had ever seen. The girl in white was pointing towards the chamber. In her hand, she held a quiver. She handed a long bolt with a wicked-looking steel tip to one of the crossbow-wielding guards.

  The bolts were dragon killers.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Alma and Blades had been shoved into a dark hut with a dirt floor. Her head hurt from getting knocked down by the dragon and her cheek stung. The girl in white had personally struck both Alma and Blades before having them brought along to whatever neighboring village they were now in. The little tramp had also stolen Alma’s bow.

  It would only be a short time before the inevitable.

  These people weren’t interested in the dragon’s head. They worshipped the creatures. And she and Blades had just attacked one of their gods.

  “Way to read a room,” Alma said.

  “Really?” Blades said as he struggled against his bindings. “You’re mad at me? You let us come here. You summoned those pirates. Don’t pin this on me, Alma. And imagine—they were going to pay us for the boat and its cargo. You have a bag of money from Commander Zane. That wasn’t enough, was it?”

  “But you attacked the dragon, idiot.”

  Blades twisted and squirmed and finally gave up. “That’s because I wasn’t expecting to see it right outside the bar where I was drinking. I was celebrating. I thought we were done with it.”

  “We didn’t have cash in hand, Martin. The deal wasn’t finished.”

  “Don’t you get it? There’s no deal to be done here. You’re as crazy as Lord. You don’t know when to quit. Leaving North Fort was the right call—that place was about to be overrun. But then this whole dragon thing. We could have gone raiding in Midsea’s hinterlands and brought back spoils and still salvaged our reputation. But Lord decides to go up to the Monster Lands in search of dragons. Where’s the money in that?”

  “Lord already had plenty, a deposit by our employer,” Alma said. “That was the job.”

  Blades wormed his way to the side of the hut and peered outside. “What do you mean?”

  “Lord didn’t share as much with me as you’d think. But he was hired to find the dragon.”

  “What?”

  “Before we ever left North Fort. Even before we signed up. He formed his platoon with the purpose of working for the archduke. But he told me about hunting a treasure worth more than any soldier’s pay. He offered me enough to set me up good. All we had to do was find the goblins’ secret.”

  Blades just shook his head. “What a piece of work he was. And you, too. He didn’t mention anything to me until the zealots started attacking.”

  “He said what you needed to hear. But why do you think Lord had so muc
h money for horses and equipment for his platoon?”

  “The archduke, of course.”

  Alma let out a quiet laugh. “The archduke pays in Pinnacle scrip. Lord had gold before he got to Orchard City to begin recruiting. All paid by his employer.”

  “You lie,” Blades said. “He was rich in the first place. He’s a noble. They have money.”

  “He didn’t. I checked. Lord is a third son of some nothing house not even touching bay water. Why else would he work as a professional soldier? And having enough money for his bombs? That’s a specialty item few people know how to make.”

  “Well, lah-dee-dah, aren’t you so smart for figuring all this out now. Maybe if you had told me some of this sooner, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

  “Do you still have a knife?” she asked.

  “I thought you’d never ask. I always have a knife. I just can’t get to it right now.”

  Alma almost fumbled the tiny knife as she removed it from a small sheath in Blades’s wristband, but she managed to cut him free. He untied her and handed the knife back. She worked silently and pried open the simple latch that held the hut door closed from the outside.

  Blades grabbed her arm. “We’re getting out of here, right?”

  “Right now, we have nothing,” she whispered.

  “We have our necks. We steal a boat and row away and figure the rest out later.”

  “Then you go do that. I saw we were still close to the water. They must have a small boat you can steal. But I’m not going.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Salvage something out of this mess. And maybe get my bow back.”

  Outside a few people were huddled near a lit fire. A brighter light glowed from somewhere up the hillside.

  Alma studied the shadows.

  The men at the fire looked like a handful of the crew members from the Sin Nombre. She didn’t want to hurt any of them if she could help it. They seemed to collect themselves and left the fire. She could hear their voices as they exited the village, heading back towards the trail that led to Bird’s Landing.