City of Daggers (The Iron Teeth Book 2)

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City of Daggers (The Iron Teeth Book 2) Page 6

by Scott Straughan


  However, another goblin off to the side made an excited sound and rushed over. This goblin’s eyes were wide with recognition, and he began to gibber excitedly. He was an average-sized goblin with a slight blue cast to his skin and a few strands of gray hair on the crown of his head. Blacknail made a shooing motion towards the bushes. His eager helper ran up to the border and looked back to see if the hobgoblin was following. Blacknail went after the goblin and trailed him for a few minutes until they came to a small, bubbling creek.

  After scanning it carefully for any signs of danger, such as giant snapping turtles, Blacknail approached the stream and took a drink. That done, he filled the two cups he was holding and gave one to his guide. When they got back to the den, the hobgoblin tried to explain what he wanted to its little green residents. After several embarrassing failures, Blacknail managed to get the goblins to start filling the pot using the bowls and cups. Soon after that, he had them bringing him wild carrots and other common herbs. He chopped up all the ingredients and threw them all into the pot, and then he hung the pot from the branch above the fire and waited for it to boil. About an hour later, the pleasant aroma of stew filled the air above the goblin den.

  After Blacknail had finished eating, there was still a lot of stew left, so he offered it to the goblins. Tentatively at first, but then with eager excitement, the tribe began taking mugs and cups of the stuff and drinking it down. Judging by their excited murmuring, and the brawls that broke out over bowls, they really liked it. Several goblins tried to drink directly from the pot, but they stopped after Blacknail kicked the closest one across the clearing.

  As the sky darkened and the stars began to come out, Blacknail found himself sitting around a fire with an entire tribe of goblins. They scampered around energetically and chattered incomprehensibly among themselves. It reminded Blacknail of his life in the sewers but was also disturbingly different at the same time. He had changed so much. He couldn’t even picture himself as one of the little green runts that were running around him. It wasn’t even that he was a hobgoblin now; life with humans had changed him. As he stared at the feral goblins, Blacknail realized he no longer saw the world the way this tribe did. They had such tiny short little viewpoints. They were just focused on simple things like food and shelter. When they saw the road at the edge of their domain, what did they think? Did they wonder who had made it or where it led?

  Blacknail sighed as he realized a simple life like this would never satisfy him anymore. He couldn’t believe he had ever wanted to return to the sewers. He would stay here for the night, and in the morning, seek out Herad and the rest of his tribe. Humans had much better food anyway.

  Chapter 6

  Blacknail grunted in annoyance as he watched the fire. It was too late to try and go after his master, but he had recently woken up from his earlier nap so he wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep anytime soon. He didn’t really want to sit around and watch a bunch of dirty goblins gulp down stew either. Even Blacknail couldn’t believe how messy they were.

  The hobgoblin was used to doing chores when he had spare time, so out of habit, he looked around for something to do. His gaze stopped on the pile of wood. It shouldn’t be left out in the rain, so he decided to build a shelter for it. He got up and began to construct a lean-to against the remains of one of the nearby brick walls. He used some of the larger branches the goblins had brought him and tied them together with twine to form the roof. When he was done, Blacknail stood back and admired his handiwork proudly. The goblins behind him murmured in appreciation. The hobgoblin froze as a realization hit him. What in all the hells was he doing? Why was he building these little green pests anything?

  With a disgusted grunt, Blacknail sat back down by the fire. He slouched over and rested his chin on his palm as he gazed into the flames again. For a few minutes, he enjoyed staring at the crackling dance of the blaze, but he quickly grew bored. He had depleted some of his stock of rope earlier, so he decided to replace it. He walked out into the bushes by the road and began to gather plant fibers. When he returned, the goblins had not only replaced all the wood he had used up but actually made the pile substantially larger. Blacknail ignored them and began to twist the fibers together to make rope. As he worked, several of the goblins copied him. The hobgoblin gave them a disdainful look. As if they would be able to do it properly! It had taken him weeks to learn to do it, and he was a genius.

  A few minutes later, when Blacknail next looked up, he saw several of the goblins working together to make near-perfect rope. He felt his jaw grow slack and fall open in shock. That wasn’t possible; there was no way these feral little runts should be able to do it so easily!

  Then, Blacknail remembered the other hobgoblin’s axes. They had used similar cord to keep the stone heads attached. Obviously, the goblins had already known how to make twine. That made sense. They had probably practiced for years to manage the feat, while under the threat of strict punishment. Still, maybe they weren’t as dumb as they looked.

  It was some time before Blacknail grew tired. Before then, he’d managed to make two more lean-tos, replace all his rope, and construct a door for the goblin den’s entrance. He’d made it from more branches and tied it down using twine and stakes. He was planning on sleeping down there anyway, so having a door directly benefitted him. He obviously hadn’t done it for the goblins. That would be stupid…

  Several nearby goblins were playing with their new door as they squealed in excitement. Blacknail shooed them away, flipped the door open, and went down into the den. Once down there, he scowled. It was dark inside. Even with the door open and goblin night vision, he was having some problems seeing. That wouldn’t do. Blacknail walked around the room until he found a section of the wall where the stones were crumbling. Using the deceased hobgoblin’s axe as a hammer, he opened a small hole there. Then, he shoved a nearby goblin into it and forced the gibbering runt to dig its way to the surface as he motivated it with pokes from his sword. His fireplace was thus completed!

  It only took a few seconds to fill the newly dug shaft with wood, and light it with a burning branch from the other fire outside. Blacknail removed the goblin first, of course. A burning goblin would undoubtedly make a truly hideous amount of noise.

  With the light from the fire and the help of several eager goblins—they were eager not to get kicked—Blacknail was able to clean the place up a bit and lay out his blankets. The final touch was to scatter Flybane around to ward off the bugs. With that done, Blacknail had created a comfy place he actually wouldn’t mind sleeping in. In fact, it was actually pretty nice. Moving around so much had caused his wounded shoulder to start aching again, so Blacknail lay down on his blankets and went to sleep. Just before he slipped unconscious, he thought he felt several warm bodies cuddle up next to him. It could have been a dream though. He was definitely alone when he woke up.

  As the sun was peaking over the tree tops the next morning, Blacknail threw open the new trap door he had built and stepped outside to greet it. He had everything packed and was ready to continue his journey to Daggerpoint. He couldn’t wait to hit the road! Feeling fully rested, the hobgoblin made his way through the bushes and back onto the road. He was going to have to travel quickly if he was to have any chance of finding Herad and the others’ trail, so he immediately started running.

  However, as he was about to leave the bushy scrubland behind him, Blacknail heard a shrill screech fill the air. He looked back over his shoulder to see a flock of harpies circling the goblin den from high up in the air. They looked mean. Blacknail then heard the unmistakable yelp of a terrified goblin. That wasn’t his problem, but he hesitated and grunted in annoyance as he watched the harpies circle. Harpies were dangerous predators. They resembled huge birds except they had claws on the ends of their wings, and mouths full of teeth instead of beaks.

  Stupid, bloody, feral, good-for-nothing goblins, it served the runts right for attacking him! So what if they got eaten by harpies? The hobgobli
n took another step forward but then froze. He was totally not responsible for them just because he had killed their chief. That wasn’t how it worked!

  Blacknail fought to keep walking away, but he couldn’t take another step. He let out a long, resigned sigh and turned around. Swiftly, he raced back to the clearing in time to see one of the circling harpies dive. Below it, a goblin was desperately attempting to scramble through the bushes toward the entrance to the den. It didn’t look like it would make it. Blacknail was prepared though. He had already pulled out his sling, and he immediately sent a stone whirring toward the diving harpy.

  His hasty shot missed, but it definitely caught the raptor’s attention. The sound of the stone shooting past it startled the harpy and caused it to abandon its dive. Instead, it fluttered in the air for a second before winging its way across the clearing. The goblin it had been aiming for reached the trap door and slipped under it. The other harpies that were still circling above began to screech angrily. Blacknail eyed them warily as he pushed his way through the scraggly bushes and back toward the den. When he burst into the ruins of the old home, one of the flock detached itself and dove toward him.

  The hobgoblin saw the harpy coming and whipped another stone at it, and this time it hit. The harpy squawked in pain and dropped from the air. There was a loud thud as it smashed through the bushes and into the ground. Blacknail gave the mangled body of the downed raptor a brief look-over. He was fairly confident it was dead. That had been quite the lucky shot, or maybe he was just super skilled? That only left five more harpies. Blacknail hoped they would give up now that they knew how dangerous he was. He was really strong and fast after all! They wouldn’t gain anything from attacking him.

  Suddenly, the air above him was filled with the furious screech of vengeful harpies. Moving as one, the entire enraged flock descended upon the hobgoblin. Blacknail swore as his eyes widened in alarm. Maybe that hadn’t been a lucky shot after all… A surge of panic rushed through Blacknail as he sprinted for cover. He could hear the harpies descending upon him, so he quickly measured the distance to the den’s entrance as he ran. It was obvious he wouldn’t make it, so he swerved and threw himself aside at the last moment. The first four harpies missed and blew past him in a gust of wind, but the last one caught the edge of his cloak with its hind claws. The furious raptor began to slash at Blacknail with the long claws on the end of its wings. Luckily, its efforts were hampered by the hobgoblin’s clothing.

  Blacknail rolled and ripped his cloak off, with the harpy still attached to it. He then drew his dagger and stabbed at it. The flailing creature slipped away from him, so he only managed to graze it. That was when the other harpies swung back around and whipped past him once more. The hobgoblin tried to roll out of the way again, but this time, one of the raptors managed to slash him across his back as it flew past. The cut stung, and Blacknail could feel his clothes grow damp as blood seeped from the gash.

  The hobgoblin’s roll ended as he hit one of the nearby crumbling walls. He placed his back up against it and brought his dagger up in defense as he climbed to his feet. Bleeding and tired, Blacknail prepared himself to face the winged terrors again.

  The first harpy rushed at him. Blacknail grabbed his cloak from off the ground and swung it at the creature. Instinctively, the surprised harpy gripped the long piece of fabric, so Blacknail whipped the cloak around and sent the raptor hurtling off into the nearby brambles. The other three harpies that were still in flight dove at him, so Blacknail flipped over the wall at his back. This forced the furiously squawking raptors to fly over him harmlessly. Blacknail smiled mockingly at the stupid feathered beasts. They weren’t so tough.

  That was when the first harpy that had attacked him pounced out of the bushes and onto his back. Blacknail shrieked in pain and tried to throw the creature off, but it had its claws dug in deep. As he futilely tried to reach around and stab the harpy with his knife, it suddenly and unexpectedly released him. Blacknail rolled through the dirt and hissed in pain, but the urge to survive raged through him and drove him to act. He landed on his feet with his dagger up and spat loose feathers from his mouth.

  “Stupid man-faced birds, I’ll cut you all up!” the hobgoblin roared. He had expected to immediately have a face full of furious harpy, but it didn’t happen. It soon became obvious why. A goblin had shoved a spear up the raptor’s ass.

  A wave of angry shrieking goblins was rushing out of their den and were in the process of finishing off the two grounded harpies. Several of them were mercilessly stabbing each of the flailing raptors with stone-tipped spears. Several more rushed over to Blacknail and surrounded him protectively. They waved their spears and jeered at the three harpies that were still flying around. The now very outnumbered winged beasts apparently didn’t want to keep fighting. They twisted in the air and started flapping toward the woods. A few seconds later, they let out one last angry shriek before disappearing into the trees. Blacknail let out a deep sigh of relief as the goblins around him began cheering at the top of their lungs.

  The fight was over. Blacknail grunted in pain as he awkwardly tried to stand up straight. That fight could have gone a lot better… There was no way he was going to be able to start after Herad and Saeter now. He had to clean and patch all the new wounds he had gotten. Not to mention, he wasn’t exactly feeling up to a long run.

  Oh well, it wasn’t all bad. At least he had a safe place to sleep and recuperate. Of course, it was full of annoying little runts that were being way too loud right now. He kind of, but not really, owed them one though. So he could also use the time to teach the goblins a trick or two. Just so they could survive without a hobgoblin around to look after them.

  After getting a nearby goblin to grab him some more food and patching his wounds, Blacknail went straight to work. The most important thing was that the goblins were able to protect themselves. That way he could leave without having to worry about them being attacked as soon as his back was turned. If the harpies came back, the goblins would need slings. Even a small goblin could do a fair bit of damage with a sling, and they worked well against flying targets. Then again, a rock to the face worked well against almost everything. He didn’t have nearly enough cloth to make slings though… How else could he do it? Well the goblins had shown they could make twine, so maybe he could use that.

  Less than an hour later, the hobgoblin was laughing excitedly as he launched a small rock across the clearing using the twine sling he had just made. It had worked; he truly was a genius! Immediately, Blacknail grabbed several nearby goblins and forced them to make twine. He had to smack them a few times to keep them from slipping away, but once they knew what he wanted, they went to work. The gray-haired goblin that had guided him to the creek was there, and Blacknail didn’t have to hit him at all. That was an impressive amount of intelligence for a goblin.

  When Blacknail had enough twine, he got the goblins to watch him make another sling and use it. The weapon apparently impressed the goblins, or maybe they liked mimicking the hobgoblin, because soon the air was full of flying rocks. That also meant the ground was soon littered with fallen goblins who had welts and bumps decorating their heads after being hit by stray projectiles. Looking back, that outcome should have been obvious to Blacknail, and even he had to dodge the occasional rock that shot past his head. He couldn’t figure out which goblin, or conspiracy of goblins, it was that kept doing that. His plan to discipline them by giving them all a good kicking also failed. There were too many of them, and the little runts were quick when they wanted to be.

  “Stupid ungrateful idiots,” he muttered to himself as he stared suspiciously in every direction.

  Clearly, Blacknail had to rethink his strategy. How did Herad control so many bandits? She had lieutenants like Saeter and Red Dog! Could he train a goblin? The gray-haired goblin had shown something that mimicked intelligence… kind of. He was also standing right beside Blacknail, which placed him within easy reach. With his mind made up, the hobgoblin b
egan instructing the gray-haired goblin on how to use a sling.

  “You boss goblin now,” the hobgoblin told his wide-eyed follower.

  “You boss,” the goblin repeated.

  Blacknail sighed. Well, language wasn’t important anyway. It was time for phase two of his goblin-proof plan. Blacknail handed Gray Hair a spear and had him go around smacking the other goblins with it. If they tried to fight back, Blacknail gave them a solid kick, and that was that. Thus did Gray Hair rise in the pack hierarchy.

  After repeating the process two more times, Blacknail had trained himself some loyal lieutenants. Now, if the stupid tribe of goblins didn’t do as the hobgoblin wanted, it was his lieutenants’ problem, because he would take it out on them. That was much less work for Blacknail to do. Smacking goblins around started out fun but swiftly grew tedious if you had to keep doing it forever.

  The hobgoblin’s plan worked flawlessly, because he was a genius. Soon, Blacknail had the goblins under his, almost, complete control. He kept them very busy while he recuperated. With the help of his new lieutenants, he managed to force most the goblins to practice slinging stones. This time no one got hurt, except the stupid goblins that deserved it.

  Next on the list was fortifying the den some more. First, Blacknail started constructing some more stone axes. He copied the horned hobgoblin’s simple design. A sharpened stone was wedged into the split top of a length of wood and wrapped in twine. He had goblins use the axes to cut down saplings. The work went quickly with two dozen goblins all working together, especially since if one of the goblins wasn’t working fast enough, they got poked by one of the hobgoblin’s spear-wielding lieutenants. Blacknail knew how to motivate goblins.

 

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