“Yes, I’m a demon! Tonight-ss you die,” Blacknail hissed dramatically in his scariest voice, which was actually just his normal voice.
The hobgoblin pulled himself off the ground. He was unsteady on his feet and wobbled a little, but he managed to start walking over to his target.
“Fuck you!”
Fang was injured and in his underwear, but he was still a Slosher. He looked around the room for something to use as a weapon. There was a vase on a nearby stand, so the man grabbed it and threw it at his attacker. Blacknail slid out of the way of the porcelain projectile and continued to close the distance. Fang picked up the wooden stand itself and hurled that. This time, one of its legs nicked Blacknail’s shoulder. He stumbled slightly and winced. There was no real damage though, beyond another bruise.
Fang took this time to reach down with his one free hand and grab his pants from off the floor. Blacknail grinned with savage amusement. What was he planning to do with those? His smile slipped though when the man managed to fumble through the trousers and pull out a small dagger. Blacknail would have been more concerned, but Fang’s eyes were starting to look unfocused, and he’d grown very pale. Still, it was better not to take any risks. Blacknail tucked his own knife away and drew his sword instead.
Fang grimaced in anger and frustration as the hobgoblin approached. Blacknail raised his sword and slashed down at the man. Fang raised an arm defensively and tried to block with his dagger, but Blacknail was too fast for him. The sword cut into the man’s arm, and then Blackanil kicked him in the knee. There was a crunching noise as Fang collapsed onto his side. He shrieked in pain, and blood sprayed from his arm. The hobgoblin didn’t give him time to recover. He mercilessly began hacking and slashing at the fallen man until Fang’s struggling ceased and he went limp.
Blacknail only stopped when the gory mess at his feet was clearly a corpse. Then he lined the blade up just right… and cut the man’s head off. Then he tried again because it hadn’t quite come off right the first time.
When the head was completely severed, Blacknail gave it a brief shake to get some of the blood out and wrapped it in a sheet from the bed. He was interrupted from his work by the rather loud sound of the door at the top of the stairs exploding inward. Almost immediately after that, he heard the sound of hurried footsteps.
“Horse reek,” Blacknail swore and stuffed his grisly trophy into his backpack.
The hobgoblin pulled his hood up and sheathed his sword. He knew he only had seconds before he would be mobbed by a horde of very large and very angry humans, so he dashed toward the nearest window. He had no idea what was outside of it, but it had to be better for his health than staying here would be.
It had gotten dark out while Blacknail had been napping. The hobgoblin grabbed the window frame and used it to swing around. Luckily for him, the exterior wall had a ridge he could grab. He used that to pull himself out of sight of anyone inside, and he began scrambling down the side of the building. Below him was one of the grimy alleys that lay beside the tavern. There didn’t seem to be anyone there at the moment, but Blacknail could hear swearing and yelling from the room he had left. He was willing to bet people would soon pour out of Fang’s lair and flood the streets.
The climb down wasn’t easy or fast, even for the hobgoblin. He couldn’t go straight down because parts of the wall were too smooth to grip. Instead, he had to carefully feel his way around and scramble sideways to find footholds as he descended feet first. He disliked how long this was taking; he didn’t have a lot of time to spare.
The first story of the building was smaller than the others and recessed, so Blacknail had to jump down. His injured shoulder flared with pain as he landed on the ground. The hobgoblin grunted and began running away as fast as he could. He could hear humans all around him, several of which seemed dangerously close by, so he dashed into a nearby alley that sounded empty. Behind him, all the windows of Fang’s lair started glowing brightly one by one as his men woke up and tried to respond to the turmoil around them. Angry shouts and cries of alarm began to fill the air.
As Blacknail desperately tried to flee through the now dark city streets, he hissed in pain. His pace slowed as his ankle began to hurt. He tried to fight past the pain, but his foot also felt weaker and unsteady when he put weight on it. He lurched sideways and limped into a small alley as he heard a group of humans approach from ahead. The tight pathway was free of debris and clutter. This made traversing it easier, but it also meant there was nothing to hide behind, and that mattered. The sound of footsteps echoed behind Blacknail as a mob of humans hurried his way.
There was no way the hobgoblin could outrun them, so he looked around for anything that would help him escape or hide. There was nothing on the ground, so he looked higher up. He hissed in annoyance as he noticed the large overhangs on the low roofs that bordered the alley. There was no way he could quickly get over them and onto the rooftops.
The sound of pursuit grew closer, and as Blacknail began to panic, an idea suddenly occurred to him. He sprinted toward the nearest wall and ran up it. His ankle flared with pain, but he disregarded it; he wanted to live. Using his momentum, he jumped up off the wall and grabbed the overhanging roof. Grunting with effort, Blacknail pulled himself up under the roof and against the wall. There were wooden supports along the wall he could hold on to.
He hung there as a dozen thugs suddenly burst into the alley. They had torches that burned away at the shadows that encircled them. Together, the mob of humans hurried down the alley. Thankfully, since the path was straight and empty, they didn’t seem to be looking around too much, and the light from the torches didn’t reach into the dark recesses of the overhanging roof. Blacknail was tucked away in those shadows as he watched the men pass below him. If anyone looked his way, they would have seen his eyes reflecting the light. No one looked though.
The wounded hobgoblin let out a deep breath of relief as his pursuers turned the corner and disappeared out of sight. That had been close; if humans weren’t so blind and stupid, he might have been caught there. There was no way a hobgoblin, or any animal really, would have missed the smell of blood in the air.
He didn’t hear anyone else close by, so Blacknail let himself drop back down to the ground. He then hurried back onto the street and away. Several times he was almost caught by groups of searching thugs, but he always managed to slip away at the last minute. There didn’t seem to be any pattern or cooperation among the human search parties. They all appeared be running around randomly.
Eventually, Blacknail got far enough away that he left the search parties behind, and the city grew quiet. Once free of pursuit, he slowed down and began hobbling through the dark city toward Herad’s residence. He would be safe when he got there and could lie down for a while…
He definitely wasn’t going after the other bandit chief anytime soon. This hadn’t been an experience he wanted to repeat. If only that ugly human bastard hadn’t dropped those coins! It seemed unfair that Blacknail’s perfect plan could be ruined by something so random. Herad would just have to be happy knowing Fang was dead and having his bloody head as proof. Two heads probably wouldn’t fit in Blacknail’s bag anyway.
The hobgoblin trudged through the dark and empty city streets for several minutes before he got to his destination. As he approached the front of Herad’s lair, Blacknail saw two men standing guard outside. Light shone from a window beside them and illuminated the lair’s yard. The bored-looking lookout glanced his way as the cloaked hobgoblin drew nearer. Blacknail caught a whiff of their scent and was very relieved that one of them smelled familiar. He was far too exhausted to try and sneak in right now.
“Halt, who goes there?” the first man asked as he placed a hand on the sword at his side.
“Me,” Blacknail replied unhelpfully. He was too tired to say more, not to mention he was feeling rather cranky.
“Who?” the man asked suspiciously.
“I’m Blacknail.”
“What the hells? The hobgoblin? I’ll believe that when the gods reveal it. Ha, there’s no way a hobgoblin could be wandering around the city!” the first man replied.
“I can if I want to,” the hobgoblin replied as he pulled his hood down and glared at the man.
His eyes shone with barely suppressed anger and frustration. Both men took a surprised step away from him. The second man went pale as the moon and threw his partner a questioning look. After Blacknail was finished talking to Herad, he was going to smack these idiots. He began walking past the guards and up to the door of the building.
“Hey, you can’t just go in there!”
“I can if I want to. I’m here to see mistress Herad. Get in my way, and I’ll gut you like a rabbit,” the hobgoblin hissed and marched past the guards.
They didn’t try to stop him; they just stood aside and watched without moving. The dried splatters of blood all across his face might have had something to do with it. When Blacknail was safely past, the unfamiliar-smelling one turned to the other.
“That’s not a real hobgoblin, is it? I mean, I heard some of the other guys talking, but I thought they were joking!” he said nervously.
“He was green, you idiot. Of course he’s a hobgoblin; no human has ever had chompers like those, that’s for damn sure!” the other man replied.
Blacknail flipped his hood back up and made his way inside. The room there was plain, and several people were sitting at a table playing cards. Their reactions to Blacknail’s sudden presence varied, but every one of them looked surprised. That was amusing, but none of them were Saeter or Herad, so the hobgoblin kept moving. Behind him, several men pushed their chairs back and got to their feet as an anxious-sounding conversation broke out.
Blacknail could hear Herad’s voice from deeper within the building. He followed it through the bare corridors. As he walked, everyone he saw moved out of his way without a word. Moments later, he stood outside a closed door. One of Herad’s personal guards stood beside it. The sound of conversation between the bandit chief and several of her minions could clearly be heard from within.
“… It’s suicide to try and fight them all. My men and I joined your band because it sounded like you had a sweet setup down south. We didn’t agree to fight all of Daggerpoint for you!” a deep-voiced man was yelling.
“You swore to follow me, so you don’t have a choice,” Herad replied with frosty calm.
Herad still sounded more than a little angry, but Blacknail was too tired and sore to care. He was also willing to bet his present would cheer her up.
“Open the door,” the hobgoblin hissed to the guard. The man flinched as Blacknail’s voice issued forth from under his hood. He looked startled for a second, but then relaxed as a look of comprehension came over his face.
“Saeter’s hobgoblin? What the hells are you doing here?” he asked.
Blacknail sighed in frustration. Why were most humans all so stupid? His reason for being here was really obvious. “Open the door-ss. I’m here to see Herad.”
“She doesn’t want to be disturbed. She told me not to open the door for anything short of an attack,” the guard replied.
“I understand-ss. I could stab you a few times if you want-ss,” Blacknail offered helpfully.
“Ha, no thanks. You don’t scare me, you runt. I’ll let you in though. If you piss the boss off, it will be on your head, not mine,” he replied with a confident smile and stepped aside.
The hobgoblin gave him an annoyed look, but said nothing as he moved forward and politely knocked on the door. The argument going on inside subsided.
“Come in,” Herad called out from within.
Blacknail took a second to remove the severed head from his backpack. It was still wrapped up, but the cloth was now completely soaked through with blood. The man standing beside Blacknail stared in revulsion at the object in the hobgoblin’s hands.
The door swung open as Blacknail pushed it open and stepped through it. There was a soft thud when the doors hit the walls behind them. The spacious room on the other side had only one small window and was thus mostly illuminated by a black iron chandelier that held a dozen bright white candles. A large, square wooden table stood beneath the chandelier in the center of the room. The light from the candles revealed several people sitting around the table but left the rest of the room in shadow.
Herad, of course, was seated at the far end of the table in the largest chair. Saeter was sitting to her right. Blacknail threw them both confident looks as he walked in. Muted whispering broke out as the people around the table took in his cloaked form. Saeter, of course, recognized him immediately and frowned in concern. Herad raised an eyebrow in surprise as she gazed at him and noticed the bloody object in his hands.
“You’re dripping on my floor, Blacknail,” she told him with apparent calm.
“Sorry, mistress,” he replied as he walked past the table and approached her.
Blacknail wasn’t fooled by her voice. He knew she was angry at him, and getting angrier. A subtle clue was how she was stroking her sword hilt. He had best get right to the point. As the hobgoblin came to a halt in front of her, Herad leaned forward and addressed him.
“What are you doing here? I don’t remember giving you permission to do that, hobgoblin. I also seriously doubt Red Dog sent you; that wouldn’t be much like him,” she whispered as she glared at Blacknail with her icy blue eyes.
“I wanted to serve, mistress. I heard there was something you wanted, so I went to get it for you. It’s a present,” Blacknail quickly explained. The corner of Herad’s mouth twitched as the hobgoblin finished speaking. She turned and looked at the bloody object that dangled from his hand.
“That’s your present? This had better be good, hobgoblin. Otherwise, you’ll regret coming here, briefly,” Herad told him.
Blacknail hurriedly pulled the cloth off and held up the severed head within by its hair. There were gasps around the table as everyone took in the sight. Fang’s face was splattered with blood and loose strands of hair were stuck to it. His skin had gone corpse white, and his jaw hung loosely, so his mouth gaped open. Most disturbingly, his dead eyes stared forward unblinkingly. The hobgoblin’s mistress looked at it with disgust. Blacknail realized he had better explain. She probably didn’t recognize the man.
“For you, mistress. I give you the head of the man named Fang,” he hissed dramatically.
Chapter 13
The entire room went silent. Herad’s mouth went slightly slack, and her eyes widened the tiniest bit. She stared in surprise at the severed head for several seconds. Blacknail really hoped it was a good type of surprise. The suspense was actually painful.
“By all that is holy and all that is profane, it is him,” she whispered.
Nope, that didn’t help. The hobgoblin still couldn’t tell if Herad was pleased or not. Maybe she needed a reminder of why she had wanted Fang dead in the first place. “I killed him; he was fat, and you didn’t like him.”
As the anxious hobgoblin watched, a savage grin suddenly sprung into existence on Herad’s lips. Her eyes began to gleam with excitement. Blacknail let out a breath of relief. He couldn’t keep a happy smile from appearing on his lips, and he felt like dancing with joy. The chief was pleased by his gift. Truly, he was a genius. His plan was working perfectly!
“Why don’t any of you bring me gifts like this?” Herad said with a laugh and an amused glance towards Saeter and the others around the table.
From under his hood, the happy hobgoblin grinned smugly at all the seated people. He was the chief’s favorite! Blacknail threw the cloth onto the table and then put his trophy down on top of it. He’d carried the thing far enough already, and it was Herad’s now anyway. He hoped she was going to put it somewhere it would look nice.
In the light of the chandelier hanging overhead, Blacknail could clearly see the other people around the table throwing disbelieving looks at him and the severed head. A few of them had even gone pale, and one lo
oked like he was about to be sick. They began chatting and whispering amongst themselves again, and the sound of their hushed voices echoed around the dark corners of the room. Saeter stood up to address his boss.
“I should go have a talk with Blacknail and get a report from him somewhere more private,” he told her.
A thoughtful look appeared on Herad’s face, and she glanced at the other men at the table. She then took another look at Blacknail and nodded. “Agreed. Take him to see Mahedium. He looks more than a little worse for wear.”
“As you wish,” Saeter replied emotionlessly.
He wasted no time in grabbing the hobgoblin’s shoulder, and immediately began dragging him from the room. Blacknail was surprised at his master’s sudden action. He wanted to stay and gloat some more. Everyone had been so surprised when he’d unwrapped Herad’s gift! No one was going to look down on him now, and he wanted to make sure all the new recruits at the table knew his new status. He was better than them!
The sound of Herad’s raised voice could be heard from behind them as she resumed her previous conversation with the other people at the table. The voices were quieter though, and unlike when he’d first entered, Herad now seemed to have control of the conversation.
Once they were out of the room and down the hallway where there was no one else around, Saeter turned to Blacknail. The hobgoblin grinned at his master proudly, but Saeter scowled back at him.
“Fool,” the old scout said as he smacked the hobgoblin across the side of his head.
“Ow!” Blacknail rubbed the sore spot and cringed.
“What do you think you’re doing? Look at you, you’re half dead! If you were just going to wander around and pick fights, then you should have stayed at the camp.”
“I won!” Blacknail whined.
“This time! What about the next time though? I have no idea how, or why, you pulled this stupid trick off. You wouldn’t have if you’d stopped to think for a second though! Now that you’ve acted as Herad’s personal assassin once, she’s going to expect you to do it again!” Saeter told Blacknail angrily.
City of Daggers (The Iron Teeth Book 2) Page 12