City of Daggers (The Iron Teeth Book 2)

by Scott Straughan

  "Human shit," Blacknail swore nervously from where he was crouched on the ground. He had accidently stumbled into the territory of another hobgoblin.

  Chapter 5

  Blacknail was very badly outnumbered. He quickly drew his sword and dropped his pack on the ground, as furious goblins encircled him. The green swarm was shrieking and waving their crude stone weapons. It would have been comical, if not for the mad gleam in the goblins’ eyes. The goblins didn’t earn more than a brief glance from Blacknail though. His eyes were locked on the hobgoblin that stood in front of him. If he looked away, it would be a sign of weakness, and one he couldn’t afford.

  The other hobgoblin’s crude loincloth did little to conceal its body, so it was obviously male. It glared evilly at Blacknail, and it growled as it raised its axes threateningly. The weapons looked to have been made from pieces of chipped stone that had been secured to fire-hardened branches. They were obviously crude weapons, but still very dangerous looking.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Blacknail observed the goblins around him. They hadn’t attacked him yet, but when they did, they would swiftly overwhelm him. They might be small and weak, but there were a bloody lot of them, and they seemed quite angry. His best bet was to deal with the hobgoblin quickly and hope that would scare the goblins into submission. Of course, the other hobgoblin was noticeably larger and older than Blacknail. Several long, pale scars decorated his exposed skin, and a particular nasty-looking one ran down his left eye. However, his most distinct feature was his black horns. Both of them were over half a foot long and branched like small antlers. They were impressive, and Blacknail found himself more than a little intimidated by them. His own horns had never really had a chance to grow because he had taken to filing them down. They might look imposing, but horns made disguising himself and wearing hats impossible. Still, he really wished he had a pair of horns now.

  Blacknail hissed angrily and waved his own weapon around as he took a step toward the hobgoblin. He needed to make this a challenge between the two of them. There was no way he could defeat the swarm of goblins as well as their hobgoblin leader.

  “Hey, stupid tree head! You’re ugly, and I’m going to cut you up,” Blacknail growled as he took another step forward. He knew the other hobgoblin couldn’t understand his words, but he didn’t need to. There was no way he could misunderstand Blacknail’s tone of voice and body language.

  The two hobgoblins postured and growled at each other for a few seconds as they slowly moved closer and began to circle each other. The watching goblins’ howls of anger turned to excitement. They were now eager to see the two hobgoblins fight. This made Blacknail smile. He had succeeded in making this a one-on-one fight for dominance. After stepping forward again, Blacknail suddenly turned his movement into a full-out lunge. He slashed violently down at the other hobgoblin with the intent to kill and end the fight before it had really begun. Unfortunately, his opponent reacted faster than anyone Blacknail had ever fought before. The enemy hobgoblin easily hopped back out of the attack’s range, and instead of counterattacking, he simply eyed Blacknail’s sword suspiciously.

  Blacknail frowned as he realized his enemy was far from stupid and knew how dangerous Blacknail’s sword could be. That changed things slightly. Before he could think through the implications though, the other hobgoblin attacked. One of his stone axes hurtled towards Blacknail’s head as his opponent swung it. Even while surprised, Blacknail knew better than to try and block it. The axe was heavy, and the horned hobgoblin was bigger and stronger looking than him, so he slipped to the side and out of the way. Immediately, the second axe was swung at Blacknail as well. The horned hobgoblin jumped forward and swung it down at him. Again Blacknail tried to slip to the side, but as he was readying his counterattack, the other goblin threw his first axe.

  Blacknail was caught off guard and flinched as the axe hurtled toward his face again. He jerked his sword up in a desperate attempt to deflect the savage projectile, but he only managed to graze it. The axe bounced off his weapon and smashed into his shoulder. The weapon didn’t hit edge-first, but it still cut into him, and it definitely hurt a lot. Blacknail let out a hiss as pain ripped through his side. The attack left only a small cut, but his arm was beginning to numb from the impact. He needed that arm!

  As he sized up his opponent anew, Blacknail growled loudly. It was a bluff. The horned hobgoblin was hanging back and watching Blacknail for any sign of weakness now. Around their small patch of road, the goblins were jeering and chattering excitedly. Things were still relatively even though. Blacknail’s one arm was injured, but his opponent had lost a weapon. Rather than show weakness before his opponent and the watching goblins, Blacknail attacked again. He unleashed a flurry of quick slashes at the horned hobgoblin’s body and hands. His opponent countered by stepping back and trying to smash Blacknail’s blade aside with his own heavier weapon.

  Blacknail’s lightning-fast slashes drew blood and opened several small gashes on his opponent’s arms and ribs. He smiled victoriously as the scent of his enemy’s blood filled the air. However, Blacknail’s sore arm suddenly flared with pain and his last slash faltered. His opponent seized the opportunity and brought his axe down on Blacknail’s blade. The stone edge of the hobgoblin’s crude axe shattered, but the impact shocked Blacknail’s injured arm, and it went numb. He lost his grip on the sword, and it was ripped painfully from his grasp.

  The horned hobgoblin shrieked joyously and dropped his own damaged weapon. As Blacknail was still reeling in pain, the other hobgoblin leapt and tackled him to the ground. Blacknail was knocked onto his back as his opponent landed on his chest. The horned hobgoblin straddled Blacknail, reached down, and began to viciously strangle him. Blacknail coughed as his throat was forced closed, and he lost the ability to breathe. He tried to wriggle and escape, but it didn’t work. The feral hobgoblin grinned gleefully down at him as he choked the life from him. Blacknail felt himself grow light-headed and weaker as he futilely tried to suck down air. With his opponent’s superior strength and weight, it was nigh impossible for Blacknail to get free. So he didn’t try. Instead, he reached under his cloak with his good hand and drew his dagger. Then, he brought it up and savagely stabbed the horned hobgoblin in the side under the ribs. Then he did it again, and again. Then he did it one last time to make himself feel better.

  His opponent coughed, and blood splattered all over Blacknail’s face. Unceremoniously, Blacknail pushed his now twitching and weak opponent off. The horned hobgoblin flopped sideways and hit the ground as Blacknail rose to his feet and wiped his face clean with one of his sleeves.

  “Fair fights are for idiots,” Blacknail hissed before spitting on his fallen opponent.

  Around him, the circle of goblins had gone silent and were now staring at Blacknail intently. Blacknail repressed the urge to fall over and glared back at them with as much menace as he could muster. The air was full of tension for several long moments, and then the goblins suddenly broke out into shrill screams and rushed forward. Blacknail almost fell over in surprise, but then he realized he wasn’t under attack. The goblins were yelling in excitement, obnoxiously loud excitement. They pressed against him as they tried to reach out and paw the victor of the duel. Blacknail would have pulled away, but they came at him from every direction at once. He was jostled and pushed as the swarm seemingly tried to swallow him. Surprised, Blacknail tried to shove through them and escape from the mass of unwashed goblins. The little critters had really dirty hands. Blacknail didn’t know what they had been touching, but he knew he didn’t like the fact they were getting it all over his clothes. One of the goblins broke away and stepped over to examine the pack Blacknail had dropped earlier. The hobgoblin saw him and growled menacingly as he tried to get free from his new admirers.

  “Mine! Back, you little thief,” he barked angrily.

  The swarm of goblins around him scattered as his furious yell startled them. They retreated from him and began running around and yelli
ng as well. Since they all choose different directions to go in, the swarm devolved into utter chaos as goblins began smacking into each other and yelling random nonsense. Blacknail ignored them and knocked aside any goblins in his way as he lunged toward his pack. The goblin that was riffling through the contents of the backpack saw him coming and quickly ran off into the nearby bushes. Blacknail briefly checked to make sure nothing was missing before quickly snatching his bag up. Then he patted himself down to make sure none of the goblins from earlier had stolen anything, and of course they had. He was missing a dagger and a pouch.

  “Little thieves, bad goblins,” he hissed as he scanned the nearby goblins for signs of his stuff.

  He saw his pouch in the hands of one of them and moved to grab it back. He was too slow though, and the thief slipped away into the bushes at the side of the road. Blacknail growled and immediately followed the goblin. He swatted branches and plants out of the way as he pursued his target through the thick scrubland. His arm was still sore though, and he was quickly growing tired. This feral pack of thieves was beginning to really annoy him.

  He followed the goblin until he stepped out of the bushes and into the ruins of an old human house. It looked to have once been fairly large, but it had crumbled away long ago. Only an uneven square of cracked bricks a few feet high remained to mark where the house’s exterior walls had once stood, but the ground between the ruins was still packed hard enough that only a few small plants and grass grew there. The result was a small clearing, and the place reeked of goblins. As the hobgoblin looked around, he spotted a pile of ashes and burnt stones that marked the location of a fire pit. It had clearly seen recent use. Other signs of goblin activity, such as tracks and small animal bones, littered the area as well.

  Blacknail heard the bushes behind him shake, and he glanced back over his shoulder to see several goblins emerge from the greenery behind him. They cringed and lowered their eyes submissively when he threw a glare their way. He ignored them; they weren’t a threat anymore. Goblins such as these feral pipsqueaks would never pick a fight with a hobgoblin such as him. Their natural place was below him.

  Now, Blacknail just needed to find his pouch so he could get going. Every minute he wasted here, the rest of his tribe got farther and farther away. He scanned the surroundings for signs of the thief and quickly spotted what looked to be the entrance to an old basement or cellar hidden among the rubble. He smiled and headed toward it. That was probably where the thief was hiding. The rough stone and mortar walls of the stairway were still intact, but the steps had long ago shifted and eroded. This made the walk down the ruined stairway treacherous. Luckily, Blacknail had both very good night vision and excellent balance.

  It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dark, but when he made it to the bottom of the passage, he got a good look at the goblins’ den. It was a large room big enough to hold dozens of people, or many more goblins than that. Like the stairway down, the old cellar’s walls were rough stone with mortar holding them in place. The room had obviously originally been constructed by humans. The floor was packed earth, but Blacknail was unsure if it had always been that way or if the dirt had built up after it had been abandoned. Signs of goblin habitation were everywhere. Collected bits of feathers, wood, and human trash were scattered around the floor, not to mention several insects that buzzed around among the garbage.

  The only sources of light were the passage behind Blacknail and a small tunnel some of the goblins had dug in the far wall. Goblins always had more than one entrance to their dens, so they could flee from predators or bigger goblins. Over in one corner, there was a flattened pile of dried plants and bits of cloth. It looked like the horned hobgoblin’s old bed to Blacknail. He sneered at it; his bed was much better.

  The hobgoblin then noticed his pouch on the ground beside the rear tunnel. He quickly jumped over and scooped it up before another goblin could appear and make off with it. He felt relief wash over him when it was back on his hip where it belonged. He was glad he didn’t have to spend any more time looking for it.

  Just then, a feeling of dizziness overcame Blacknail, and he realized he was starting to feel tired and sore from his earlier fight with the hobgoblin. That didn’t surprise him; he had kind of gotten the shit kicked out of him. His opponent had got a few lucky blows in. Unsteady now, Blacknail moved over to the grass bed in the corner and sat down. He needed a moment to rest, and this den was probably safer and more comfortable than anywhere else he could find. As the hobgoblin surveyed the room around him, his throat suddenly tightened and he was overcome with a feeling of homesickness. It wasn’t quite the same, but the cellar definitely reminded him of the sewers he had grown up in. That seemed like a lifetime ago now, even though it had only been several months. So many things had changed.

  A twinge of pain went through his arm, so Blacknail removed his cloak and shirt to get a better look at it. The cut had already stopped bleeding, but there was a really nasty deep purple bruise forming around it. Blacknail winced as he examined it. The gash was really going to start hurting once the rush from the fight wore off. He was not looking forward to that at all. That stupid, feral hobgoblin, with the all-right-looking horns, had really gotten lucky during their fight.

  Carefully, Blacknail began to clean and wrap the cut using supplies from his pack. By the time he was done, his earlier excitement from the fight had completely worn off. Blacknail yawned as fatigue from the struggle and all his traveling caught up to him all at once. He decided to take a quick nap, just for a bit, so he had some energy for the road. With a little rest, he would probably be able to move faster anyway.

  Lazily, Blacknail took out his Flybane and began applying it. Once he had applied enough to keep the bugs away while he rested, he yawned again. Then, he laid his head down on his pack as if it were a pillow. He would just close his eyes for a second so he could rest better…

  Sometime later, Blacknail woke to the grumbling of his stomach. For a second, he wondered why he was so hungry, but then he sniffed the air. The hobgoblin quickly sat up and looked around. Several goblins were cautiously loitering around the den, and they had apparently laid out a spread of food for him. A collection of berries and nuts were piled on some leaves in front of him, and that wasn’t all. They had also placed a dead rabbit there and returned his knife as well. Blacknail eyed the nervous-looking goblins, and sniffed the food warily. It smelled very good, better than the dried human food he had been eating on the road. Maybe this tribe wasn’t so bad after all. They certainly knew how to treat a hobgoblin, unlike most humans.

  Blacknail quickly scoffed the berries and nuts down, which left the rabbit. He grabbed both it and his knife as he headed up above ground. Goblins scattered nervously out of his way when he moved. As he climbed the slippery passage upward, he was alarmed to see it had grown darker. Hopefully it was just some cloud cover. Quickly, he jumped outside and looked up at the sky. The sun was starting to set; he had slept for almost the entire day.

  “Damnnation-ss and rot!” he cursed in frustration.

  He would never be able to catch up with the rest of his tribe before night now. That left him only two options. He could either take his chances and sleep alone in the forest by the road, or stay here for the night. There were also his injuries to consider. The smell of his blood would draw predators to him like flies to shit.

  With a resigned sigh, Blacknail placed the rabbit carcass on a nearby rock and went to gather some wood. Several goblins trailed after him. It didn’t take long for him to gather up quite a bit of wood. The area was full of it, and as he worked, more and more goblins joined him. In the beginning, only a few of them silently followed him around, but as he gathered up pieces of wood and tinder, they began to whisper among themselves and copy him.

  Within a few minutes, almost two dozen goblins were running everywhere and collecting fuel for the fire. An amused Blacknail soon stopped doing the labor himself and instead headed back to get a fire started. As he wor
ked to light the tinder, goblin after goblin appeared to drop loads of twigs and branches at his feet. Soon he had far more fuel than he needed, and a roaring fire.

  As the flames roared higher, even more goblins appeared to see what was going on. Blacknail counted about three dozen of them, which was probably the entire tribe. There were several small goblins and pregnant females among them. They must have been hiding from the unknown hobgoblin when he’d first arrived. He didn’t blame them. Goblin leadership transitions were often bloody, even without throwing hobgoblins into the mix.

  Since Blacknail didn’t care about the young goblins in the least, he ignored them and started skinning the rabbit. He enjoyed eating the furry critters raw, but after so many days on the road, he felt like hot food. In fact, he felt like more than just rabbit. Had he seen a pot below? Blacknail wandered back down into the den. His memory was right, and in one corner of the room, there was a large, blackened steel pot. The humans must have left it behind when they deserted the village, and the goblins had claimed it when they moved in. Among the trash, he also found several wooden mugs and bowls.

  The hobgoblin grabbed all the stuff and dragged it up to the fire. Working quickly, he grabbed a large branch and stuck it into the ground at an angle so it leaned over the fire. Then he propped it up by placing one rock under it and another atop the buried part. Now he needed water and some other ingredients. Blacknail turned to the closest goblin and repeated the word his old tribe had used for water. The goblin tilted his head to the side and gave Blacknail a bewildered look. This goblin was obviously an idiot. The hobgoblin sighed and began to lap up imaginary water from his cupped hands. It was more than a little embarrassing. This was really beneath his dignity. The goblin just continued to stare at him with a confused expression.