by Jeff Inlo
The guards remained cautious and alert throughout their patrols, and they rode in groups of larger numbers than seemed necessary for the region. Even their mounts revealed a skittish nature, as the horses stepped across gravel and dirt roads with a cautious gait and a wary eye. The guards stopped often and peered for long moments into the darkness. Even sentries at the gates of small towns appeared tense and apprehensive. The night was not a friend to any of those on patrol.
Holli and Ryson kept silent, but knowing glances between them revealed their awareness to the tension. They also observed oddities within the farm fields they could not explain. It was the height of the growing season, and most fields were carefully planted and yielding great quantities of crops, but some appeared disheveled and disorganized. These fields lacked clean planted lines, as crops and weeds mixed together across swaths in haphazard fashion. The ground was packed hard under foot, not the softer mounds of recently plowed fields.
Once the night passed, they returned to the trees in outlying areas and continued their reconnaissance from afar. They watched the roads and noted the pace and direction of wayward travelers and merchants. There were far fewer than they expected.
There were, however, a great number of other travelers on the roads—travelers they did not expect to see out in the open in broad daylight, but they were there nonetheless. Goblins moved along roads without hiding their numbers and with little regard to humans they passed. They acted as if they belonged there, and even more surprising, the humans that spotted them simply passed as quickly as they could. No one called for help, no one shouted an alarm. The presence of goblins seemed to be accepted.
After several days of careful reconnaissance, Holli decided to approach a farmer working in the fields. She hid her pointed ears under a forester's cap and counseled Ryson to appear as nothing more than a human logger surveying the land.
The farmer eyed them suspiciously. When the two strangers stepped off the road and onto his land, he abruptly ended his chores and intercepted them. He held a pitch fork loosely in one hand. He was big, but agile enough to use the tool effectively as a weapon. With more defiance than curiosity, he demanded the reason for the trespass.
"You need something?"
Holli nodded.
"Information," she said quickly. She appeared confused, as if they were lost. "We were out surveying the hills to the southwest for potential logging fields and we lost track of time... and our position. We saw some creatures that we decided to avoid, so we came down into the valley."
The farmer appeared to respect their caution, but then decided to question what they might have seen.
"The glowing ones or the big spiders?"
Holli and Ryson had located the presence of bloat spiders, so the farmer's inquiry was not a surprise.
"Actually, both," she replied.
The farmer expected as much, but then considered how common the appearance of such dark creatures had become around the foothills that bordered the valley. He could see the inferns every night. They were impossible to miss.
"And they surprised you?"
"Yes."
"You been around here long?"
"No, we are not from the valley." Holli answered with absolute honesty that rang clear in her voice.
"Where do you come from?"
Here, the elf was forced to bend the truth. She did not wish to lie, but her directive and intentions called for a level of secrecy.
"We usually stay in the logging camps in the woods. We just took this surveying job..." She let her voice trail off, as if to reveal the decision was a mistake.
It seemed a simple enough explanation, but the farmer remained cautious. Just because the two loggers got separated from their camp, that was no excuse for them to come on to his property. He had enough problems without worrying about lost loggers.
"So what information do you need? The hills are that way." The farmer pointed to the west, away from his land.
Ryson decided to enter the conversation and added more than a hint of confusion to his tone. He spoke with guarded apprehension, as if to convince the farmer they were truly unnerved by the appearance of so many dark creatures.
"If you don't mind, we'd like to know what's going on here. I mean, I've seen my fair share of strange things in the woods, but not like this. Is it like this all over the valley or is it just near the foothills?"
Ryson already knew the answer to that question. During their reconnaissance of the surrounding lands, they had already spotted the unmistakable signs of goblin parties. He knew the dark creatures were running wild through the area, he just wanted to hear the farmers viewpoint.
The farmer eyed Ryson and then Holli. He saw what he believed was genuine concern etched on their faces, and so, decided to speak openly.
"It's goin' on all over the place. And none of us are too happy about it. We got those little creepy things... what do they call them? Yeah, goblins. They've been taken over farms. I got 'em for neighbors now. Unbelievable."
The farmer's disclosure was no surprise to either Ryson or Holli. They spotted goblins occupying several farmhouses. The next revelation, however, was a surprise.
"Were many lives lost?" Holli asked.
"What do you mean?"
"When the goblins attacked the farms, were many hurt?"
"They didn't attack."
"How did they get inside the farmhouses, how did they gain control of the land?"
The farmer frowned. Holli could tell the subject did more than annoy him.
"It was given to them," he finally grumbled.
"By the previous owners?"
"No, most of the owners just abandon the land, and that's what I don't understand. My neighbors, they just up and left, and they didn't want to talk about it. I thought they could have sold their farm, but they just wanted to get out... as quickly as possible."
"So your neighbors abandon their land, but you said it was given to the goblins."
"It was," the man replied, as if he was spitting out a bad taste.
"Who gave them the land?"
"Land councils in the town that keeps track of ownership."
"You're kidding?" Ryson said, his shock apparent. He would have expected the goblins were nothing more than squatters. That he could understand, but land councils willingly handing over valuable farms to goblins was beyond lunacy.
"You think I'd kid about that?" the farmer shot back. "I would have taken over the land myself, but I never got the chance."
"Why in the name of Godson would the land councils hand over farms to goblins?"
"'Cause they're jackasses!"
"There has to be more to it than that," Holli pressed.
"Oh, they give a lot of reasons, all of 'em garbage. They say we should try to work with the goblins, give 'em a chance, let them farm the land instead of tryin' to steal from us. It's a joke."
"The goblins are farming?!" Holli's level of surprise leapt to near staggering proportions.
"I don't call it farming. It's pathetic. They have no idea what they're doing. They don't prepare the land. I don't think they know what a plow is, let alone how to use one. I've seen them just throw seeds in fields that have been fallow for three or four growing seasons. And when I say throw, I mean throw. They scatter seeds around like they're having snowball fights. It's ridiculous."
"Does anything ever grow?"
"Some of it does, but they're not getting close to a quarter of what their fields should yield. It's a waste. A waste of seed, a waste of land... I'd say it's a waste of their time, but they don't seem to do anything productive. They're about the most disgusting things I've ever seen. Thankfully, the farmers that left either took their animals or turned them over to neighbors. These goblins just took over empty land... and the barns and houses. I wouldn't want to see how they care for livestock."
Holli considered the farmer's answers. She compared the information to what they had obtained from questioning settlers that arrived in Connel as well a
s from their scouts of the surrounding lands. A few questions were answered about what they had heard and seen, but more mysteries arose.
"And you have no idea why the original farmers just abandon their lands?"
"They said they didn't want to keep their families around so many monsters. That's the only answer they'd give."
"And what about you?"
The farmer stiffened, as if being challenged.
"You mean why am I staying?"
"Yes."
"This is my land. I'm not just going to give it up. Yeah, those things worry me, but I can't just walk away."
Holli saw strength and defiance in the man's eyes, but she wondered how long that would last if the man's farm came under siege by a horde of goblins. Then again, it seemed as if the goblins didn't need to take the lands by force. Someone was handing it over to them freely.
There was still the question of why some of the farmers were abandoning their lands. Even when Enin questioned many of those that reached Connel, he never got them to give a clear response. Many did indeed state it was for the safety of their families, but others spoke of strange rumblings from the land itself—not tremors, but almost groans of dismay. The escaping settlers couldn't explain what it was, but it unnerved them, left them feeling the land had become their enemy, and that was the worst feeling a farmer could have.
Holli believed there was little else she could learn from the farmer. It was time to turn her attention to the towns and look in on the land councils. Answers might be found there.
"Well, thank you for your time," she bowed her head slightly to the farmer. "We will be on our way."
"Good luck to you, and stay safe."
The farmer didn't go directly back to his chores. He remained at the edge of his property as he watched the two strangers turn around and apparently head back to the western hills. Not knowing that Holli and Ryson had no intention of leaving the valleys, he believed they were returning to their logging camp. He wondered if they would make it through. To his knowledge, the strange creatures stalking the rim of the valley had not attacked anyone... yet, but he knew they were there for some reason. Whatever that reason was, he didn't believe it was compassionate or benign.
Chapter 4
A shriek broke the relative silence of the evening. Curses followed. Shouts and calls rumbled across the motley collection of tents outside Burbon's wall. Men with staffs, pick axes, shovels—anything that could be used as a weapon—cautiously stalked away from their campfires and makeshift shelters. They headed toward the scream with a mix of hesitancy derived of concern for their safety and determination born from a desire to help a neighbor in need.
They moved warily, despite the urgency of the cry. They knew one of their own was being attacked and they understood the need to stick together to fight off the enemy, but they were not soldiers. They were farmers, merchants, and laborers. They lacked training and experience.
While many were accustomed to guarding flocks and herds, or dealing with ruffians and thieves, they had moved on from their fields, shops and homes. They made temporary camps in the most secure areas they could find. The predators that hunted them were beyond wild beasts hungering for their flock or men with devious desires. They knew the scream in the distance warned of more than just thievery or assault. The shriek kindled thoughts of monsters and mayhem, nightmare's they were hoping to escape.
At one of the gates, the town guard acted in a much more methodical manner. They immediately followed their standard procedure for responding to such incidents. Whereas the refugees outside the wall lacked experience, Burbon's guard faced various confrontations on numerous occasions and they had trained vigorously in dealing with such threats. They acted without hesitation, and with great reliance on each other.
Four soldiers on horseback and eight on foot bolted from their stations. They moved orderly through the western gate, which was then secured behind them. Additional guards waited in reserve by the entrance as they signaled their status to the tower guards that watched over the town.
Outside the gate, those on horseback broke into two separate pairs. Each pair moved in opposite directions, urging their mounts beyond the edge of the campsites that bordered the exterior wall. Once in the clear, the riders pressed their horses into a full gallop as they circled Burbon's borders until they met at the opposite end of the town to exchange reports.
The eight soldiers on foot proceeded immediately to the site of the disturbance. Two in the front moved with spears as they shouted for the civilians to clear a path. Tents, small fires, wagons, and bundles of various goods littered the way, but the guards had become used to navigating such obstacles. Four soldiers following just behind the trail blazers carried sabers in one hand and torches in the other to light the way. The final two soldiers brought up the rear with crossbows ready to fire.
Another shout for help—a man's voice and clearly different from the high pitched shriek—added to the confusion. The soldiers forced their way through the crowd of both curious onlookers and armed individuals. They reached a young girl masked in terror. She couldn't speak once her shrieks ceased. All she could muster were hollow sobs as she pointed to the shadowed opening of an isolated tent.
A farmer had a hold of the girl and tried to calm her. He passed the girl to his wife as the soldier approached.
"You called for help?" one of the guards asked as he moved toward the farmer.
"Yeah, she was just standing there screaming. She kept pointing at the tent."
"Did you see anything?"
"Nothing."
The soldier in charge stepped up to the girl as the remaining guards took defensive positions around him.
"What's wrong?" the guard asked with a tone of calm authority.
She said nothing as she clung to the woman who held her. Her eyes remained fixed on the darkened tent, wide in horror with tears streaming down her cheeks.
The soldier wasted no further time. He motioned for the guards to circle the tent. Two soldiers with torches moved carefully to the entrance. Before they could inspect the inside, one of the guards from the back of the tent called out.
"It's tore open in the back!"
Another solider carefully placed his torch through the ripped section of canvas. The light shattered the darkness as the flames forged dancing shadows within the shelter. The tent was empty.
Sy Fenden charged up a ladder to the platform of the western guard tower. Before he completed his climb, he demanded information from the tower guard who watched the commotion at the wall.
"Report!"
"All gates secure. No reports of any interior breach. All other towers have reported in. One apparent incident outside the wall at the southwestern edge, directly between the western gate and the south road. Foot patrol is at the site. No indication of immediate hostilities. Investigation is continuing."
"Mounted patrol?"
"They've already completed their round. No signals of additional threats. They're moving back to the site of the incident to add support."
Sy had reached the platform and looked down at the throng of tents. Despite the number of people outside the wall, the area in question immediately caught his attention. A large group of citizens had gathered around the soldiers that had encircled a single tent. Upon reviewing the situation, Sy immediately issued new orders.
"Signal the reserves at the gate to assist. Tell them to disburse the crowd around our soldiers."
The tower guard followed the command without hesitation as Sy monitored all the activity near the wall. When the soldier completed the signal, Burbon's captain pressed for more details.
"Any casualties?"
"None that I can see from here. One girl screaming. A man reached the scene and called for help."
"What was it?"
"No report yet from the field."
"Any ideas?"
"Guards are inspecting the back of the tent. Something probably broke in and scared the girl."
"Did
you notice any movement?"
"Sir, people are moving around the wall all the time. It's impossible to keep track of all of them."
Sy let out a heavy breath.
"I know. What about beyond the tents... the clearings further out. Did you see anything near the hills?"
"You can barely make them out from up here. Blasted campfires all around the walls. You can't see past them into the dark."
Sy tried to focus into the clearing, but he already knew the guard was right. He had been up in the towers many times at night reviewing the grounds. He ordered small campfires to be kept to a minimum, but there were so many that they created a radiant glow that made it near impossible to distinguish anything in the distance.
"Signal from the patrol, sir," the tower guard interrupted Sy's inspection. "Something ripped into the tent, but the area is clear. No hostiles found. They're going to question the girl."
"What do you think it was? Best guess."
"Could be a rogue coming down the river, but more likely goblins. A rogue would have attacked the girl. Goblins would run for it."
"You're probably right. Signal the western gate. I'm going out there and I want Sergeant Klusac with me."
As the guard made the signal and Sy climbed down the ladder, the soldiers outside the wall attempted to question the young girl. She trembled and sobbed through heavy breaths. It took long moments before she finally mouthed an answer the soldiers could understand.
"Goblins... tore into the tent. They took our food. My father... he went after them."
"Did you see where he went?" one of the guards asked.
"I... couldn't stay in there. I ran out. "
She broke down into more violent sobs.
One of the soldiers studied the tracks at the back of the tent and quickly called out his findings.
"Maybe only two goblins. Tracks in and out. They're gone, but it looks like they were followed to the south toward the hills."
The guard in charge shook his head, but then signaled to his companions. Two of the soldiers on horseback immediately took off in the direction of the tracks. More guards appeared and they quickly disbursed the crowd.