Eye of the Moonrat (The Bowl of Souls: Book One)

by Cooley, Trevor H.

  Justan found with relief that the Jharro bow did not quite have the same explosive effect when strung with a normal line, though the pure precision and strength that he was able to achieve was still quite astounding. The arrows often struck so far into the wood of the tree that he was unable to retrieve them.

  They shot for almost half an hour until the smell of cooking bacon roused them to return to the camp. Justan handily bested Riveren with the bow. As they ate breakfast, he felt a little better about how badly he had fared while sparring with the guard the day before.

  The caravan left while it was still early. Justan decided to keep some sort of workout schedule while on the road, so he jogged along behind the last wagon for the first several hours of the day. Then when he was finished, he sat down on the roof of the wagon and whittled arrow shafts with his carving knife. He needed to replace the ones he lost while practicing.

  When they stopped for the midday meal, Justan realized that he had not seen Ambassador Valtrek all day. In fact, when he thought about it, the man had stayed inside the entire day before as well. What did the man do cooped up in that wagon? His curiosity piqued, he knocked on the wizard’s door. He leaned in towards the rune, cautiously this time, and announced himself. The rune stayed dark, and no sounds issued from within.

  He was about to knock again when he heard a shout. With a pounding of hooves, Zambon galloped toward the wagons. He had been scouting ahead.

  “Goblins!” he yelled. “About a score of them lying in wait a mile ahead!”

  Riveren ran from the far side of the wagons and received details. Then Zambon charged over to the mages who were arguing excitedly by the first wagon. Justan rushed in to speak with Riveren.

  “How can I help?” he asked.

  “You could be of best use to us with your bow,” Riveren replied while checking his armor and weapons to make sure all was ready. “We can’t go around the beasts. The wagons would never make it through the uneven terrain. We may have no choice but to fight them. Twenty goblins are probably too many for the three of us to handle alone, but we have eight mages with us. Hopefully some of them will have some experience with battle spells.”

  “Do you have any extra arrows? I started making some earlier this morning, but I don’t have any arrowheads.”

  “They should be in the back of the last wagon by the door. We are taking along some extra stock to replenish the guards at the Mage School, so there should be plenty.”

  “Thanks.” Justan strung his bow with the golden bowstring and ran to retrieve some arrows. Twenty goblins . . . Justan was curious as to what a score of those nasty little creatures were doing this close to Reneul. The road was protected by the Academy Border Patrols.

  Goblins were small hairless monsters ranging from three to four feet tall with long pointed ears and wicked mouths full of sharp teeth. Their skin had a yellow hue and their fingers were tipped with pointed claws. They were not the most cunning of creatures, but they knew how to fight with sword and bow. If enough of them attacked together, they could be dangerous. Luckily they had not come out in force since the war of the Dark Prophet hundreds of years ago.

  Zambon ran back to them with four young mages in tow. Justan was pretty sure that they were the same four that had been hiding in the grass the night before.

  “These four should be of some help in the fight,” Zambon said.

  One of the mages stepped forward and addressed Riveren. Justan’s eyes widened. This mage was a beautiful woman. Justan had heard that there was a woman healer at the tests this year. She had caused quite a stir with the students. Some trainees bragged that they had allowed themselves to be wounded on purpose, just so that she would tend to them.

  “My name is Vannya,” she said. “This is Fingre, Arcon, and Pympol. These three have some skill with fire, and I can handle a lightning bolt or two.” She didn’t appear worried about the upcoming confrontation at all, but spoke with confidence and flashed a dazzling smile that put everyone at ease.

  Riveren quickly sketched out a plan. The guards would fan out on either side of the road, flushing out the ambushers before the wagons were in reach. Zambon wanted to charge into the fields with their war-horses and stomp the things out, but Riveren overruled him. They would leave the horses tied up with the wagons, so that they could sneak up on the creatures silently in the tall grass. Justan was to perch on top of the first wagon with his bow and pick off goblins as he could, while the mages with battle magic were to stay in front of the caravan and take out any goblins that headed for the wagons with fire and lightning. The drivers and the rest of the mages were to hole up in the first wagon until the battle was over.

  It was a decent plan in some ways, but Justan found a few things lacking. He agreed with Zambon that the guards should charge through the field on the warhorses and scatter the beasts. Then he would have the mages placed atop the wagons where they could wipe out whole swaths of goblins in the grass. The odds were that the creatures would flee if they lost the element of surprise. However, he had never fought a group of goblins before so he kept his mouth shut.

  Justan turned to Vannya. “What about the Ambassador?”

  “Professor Valtrek? Oh he will come if he is needed. Don’t you worry,” she said and took a seat on the front of the first wagon. Justan shrugged and climbed on top of the wagon with an arrow notched, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

  They rolled closer and closer to the ambush at a steady pace. The two guards sped off to either side of the road with weapon in hand. The caravan continued past a large tree on the plain, and Justan’s wary eye caught a glimpse of movement in its branches. He pivoted and trained his bow on the movement. The power buzzed in his ear and when he let loose, the tree shook with the impact. A red vapor floated to the ground, followed by a dying goblin scout. The arrow had penetrated its hip, blowing the creatures leg off.

  Justan recoiled. Though he had seen drawings, it was the first time that Justan had caught a glimpse of a goblin. It was an ugly sight. He was about to see a lot more.

  Justan put another arrow to his string. He pulled back, searching for another target. The grass rustled on either side of the road where the two human guards traveled to flush out the waiting goblins, but he couldn’t see where the beasts were hiding.

  Justan could feel his palms begin to sweat against the warm wood of his bow. This was his first real battle and there were twenty of those ugly little monsters lying in wait. He grew determined not to freeze up.

  It started suddenly.

  Goblins popped up on both sides of the road ahead of the wagons. Justan’s brow furrowed. He could only see their heads above the waving grass, but by his count there were more than the twenty Zambon had estimated.

  He pulled the string back but hesitated before firing. He still couldn’t see exactly where Zambon and Riveren were and didn’t want to shoot them accidentally. This problem was solved quickly, for just a moment after the creatures showed themselves, grass went flying. The two guards leapt from their concealment and began slaying goblins with mighty swipes of battle-ax and broadsword.

  The creatures charged the caravan. Three goblin archers stood on rocks to get high enough to see over the grass. They began firing crude arrows at the wagons. Justan took a bead on one and let loose. The unfortunate creature’s head disappeared in a puff of red.

  As it toppled from the rock with a spray of blood, seven goblins came out of the grass and charged straight down the center of the road towards the first wagons. Justan trusted the mages to be able to take care of those. He aimed at the next archer. His arrow blew a hole in its chest, sending it cart-wheeling into the tall grasses.

  The seven goblins attacking from the road didn’t get very far. Fingre and Pympol sent fireballs down the center of the road. The trailing edges of the spells lit the grass on either side of the road ablaze. The fireballs incinerated the leading goblins and exploded into the rest, scattering them all over the road. While some rolled back and forth, tr
ying to put out the flames, others ran into the grass leaving a trail of fire in their wake until they collapsed.

  Justan aimed at the third archer, but it squealed and ran hunched-over into the grass. From his high vantage point, Justan was still able to follow its movement. He fired. With a thud, the surrounding grass was covered in a scarlet spray.

  Riveren and Zambon were having a harder time. The tall grass blocked their view and they were forced to swing their weapons wildly, hoping they hit something. Though this worked great in the first moments of the battle as little limbs and body parts flew through the air, their foes quickly realized their advantage in the prairie and kept low.

  This wasn’t so difficult for Riveren who could just swing his mighty axe back and forth like a scythe, keeping them from being able to sneak up on him. But Zambon was stabbed in the back twice. Though the goblin blades didn’t pierce his armor, he realized that he was in trouble. He headed back towards the road.

  The fires started by the mage’s fireballs spread swiftly in the prairie grass. Justan could see that the flames were beginning to surround Zambon. He shouted out in warning, but Justan’s cry was cut short as an arrow whizzed by his head, nicking his ear.

  Justan whirled around to see a goblin perched on the top of the third wagon behind him, fumbling another arrow onto its bow. Justan quickly drew back and fired, taking the evil thing in the chest and sending it hurtling through the air to land on the road in a heap.

  Justan ran to the back of his wagon and looked down to see ten of the little beasts sneaking around the rear of the caravan. Zambon hadn’t been very accurate in his estimate of the goblin's numbers.

  “Goblins in the rear!” He yelled, and sent an arrow blasting through the head of one of them. The rest came in a rush toward the startled mages in front of the wagons. Justan swore under his breath. He couldn’t hit the one directly below him. He laid the bow over his shoulder, drew his swords and jumped off the wagon roof onto one of the beasts.

  They went to the ground with a crash and Justan felt the crunch of the goblin’s bones beneath him. He quickly got back to his feet and skewered another creature through the lung. Justan felt a little lightheaded, but he didn’t have time to recover. There were still seven goblins about. Most were on the other side of the wagon, but two of them had seen him take out their companions and attacked.

  Zambon swung about wildly with his sword, keeping goblins at bay. The wind was blowing smoke his way. It was getting hard for him to breathe and tears streamed down his face from the fumes. Being shorter, the goblins weren’t as affected by the smoke. They saw Zambon’s distress and grew bolder. He found himself fending off several attacks at once.

  Zambon needed to escape. He ran blindly into the flames, the edges of his clothes catching fire. When he finally burst onto the road, he fell to the ground and rolled through the dirt to extinguish the flames. Unfortunately for two goblins that followed him, they did not have the same wisdom and ran screaming until they fell, crackling and burning in the rough dirt.

  Vannya looked around the side of the wagon to see five goblins approaching from the rear of the caravan. When they saw the mage, they started running toward her. Vannya yelped and scampered back, hastily preparing a lightning spell.

  The two remaining goblins facing Justan didn’t charge in blindly, but led a coordinated attack, both of them striking in concert. This was a time when Justan’s two-blade style came in handy and he was able to fend off both attackers at once. If they had been better warriors, Justan wouldn’t have had a chance, but goblins rarely put any time into training and these two were no exception.

  Justan fought defensively at first, but he knew that there were five other goblins heading toward the mages. He shifted into his attack forms and was able to bat the attacking swords away and score several hits on the two beasts, lopping one goblin's hand off at the wrist. Justan was ready to finish them when, out of the clear blue sky came a blinding flash.

  Vannya's lightning strike had been aimed at the goblins on the other side of the wagon, but the electrical charge flowed a distance across the ground as well. Justan and both goblins fell to the ground, their bodies jerking spasmodically.

  Riveren cleaved the goblin he had been chasing in two and realized that he had strayed too far away from the wagons. He cursed himself for not thinking far enough ahead. He had hoped that the goblins would flee as soon as they realized what they were up against. Riveren had battled goblins before and they were notoriously cowardly, but for some reason, the beasts weren't giving up. The situation was quickly getting out of hand.

  Riveren started back in time to see the lightning strike and the grassfires blazing out of control. A heavy weight fell on his shoulders. The caravan was his responsibility, and he had left them to fend for themselves. He ran back to the wagons, nearly tripping over the bodies of goblins he had slain.

  Vannya, unaffected by the closeness of the lightning bolt, surveyed her handiwork. The strike had landed directly into the attacking group. Two of the nasty beasts had been hit directly and were no more than blackened husks, while two more lay on the ground with wisps of smoke rising from their bodies. One of them, still twitching, rose to its knees. Before it could get to its feet, Vannya strode over and launched a kick into its face. The hard heel of her boot sent goblin teeth flying, delivering the creature into unconsciousness.

  As she turned back towards the front of the wagon, Vannya saw Fingre and Pympol gathered around Arcon. She ran quickly to see if she could help. The mage had a mean looking arrow sticking out of his chest.

  She sent her magical energies into the mage’s chest, probing the wound. The arrow tip had nicked his heart and it was coated in a wicked poison. It took all of her concentration to carefully remove the arrow while the other two mages kept the poison at bay.

  The mages were so concentrated on their task that they didn’t notice the ten goblins that came out of the grass and crept steadily towards them.

  Justan, his muscles still misfiring from the lightening bolt, rose to his feet. The two goblins beside him were weaker than he was and still jittered about on the ground. He heard Vannya cry out and turned to see the last advancing goblins.

  Justan couldn’t afford to have the two monsters at his feet attack from behind, so he quickly dispatched them with swift strokes of his swords. There was no honor in killing them that way, but he didn’t have time for anything else.

  He reached the front of the wagon at the same time as the first of the goblins. He leaned into a double thrust that put two holes in the beast’s hairless yellow chest. He kicked it off of his swords and waded into the rest of the things, slicing wildly in an attempt to draw the attention away from the defenseless mages.

  A shout rang out as Riveren finally arrived at the scene. He burst through the wall of fire enveloping his side of the road and cut two of the creatures cleanly in half with one powerful stroke of his heavy axe. Zambon rushed in as well, his clothes still smoldering.

  The next few minutes were a blur to Justan. The little monsters had surrounded him, attacking from all sides. He understood that Riveren and Zambon had joined the fight, but he was too busy trying to stay alive to coordinate any kind of attack.

  The three warriors fought valiantly until the odds were evened with only three of the goblins left. Just when it seemed as though the battle was almost over, an arrow soared in from beyond the fires and caught Zambon in the shoulder.

  The guard was able to strike down the goblin in front of him before he fell, the poison from the arrow sapping his strength.

  “There are still more goblins in the grass!” Justan shouted, and skewered the goblin in front of him with a double thrust of his swords. Where were they all coming from? And where was Valtrek? Why hadn’t he come to their aid?

  Riveren swept his axe high, taking off the last creature’s head from the nose up. “We misread their numbers,” he said.

  “You think so?” said Justan, the sarcasm coming out before he
could stop himself. He had just realized that the only thing that had saved them from being overwhelmed by the goblin’s sheer numbers were the fires burning on either side of the road. “We need to get Zambon back to the mages.”

  A group of seven more goblins darted onto the road ahead and charged, howling fiercely as they ran. Justan and Riveren stepped in front of Zambon and exchanged weary glances. They didn’t have time.

  A terrible roar rang out from behind the goblins. Justan saw one of the vicious creatures flying oddly through the air, launched out of the tall grass beyond the fires. It soon became evident that these particular goblins weren’t charging down the road to attack the caravan after all. They were running away from something.

  Their pursuer leapt out of the grass after them. It was a dwarf.

  He looked about five feet tall, which was tall for a dwarf. He also seemed to be almost as broad as he was tall, with a huge chest and bulging arms that reached nearly to the ground. The sturdy fellow held what looked like a huge hammer over his head.

  As Justan watched in astonishment, the dwarf swung the brutal weapon into the back of a fleeing goblin with an audible thud. The creature soared an unnaturally long distance before landing on top of two of its brethren, knocking them to the ground. As the dwarf stopped to finish the two that had fallen, the first of the remaining creatures reached Riveren and Justan.