The Sundered Arms dad-8

by T. H. Lain

  She showed it to Tordek.

  "Definitely goblin," he said. The ruddy hand was smaller than a dwarf's and larger than a halfling's, with ragged, dirty nails and warty knuckles.

  "At least somebody here got a lick in before the end," observed Devis.

  "So where are all the bodies?" asked Lidda.

  "Good question," said Tordek. "Let's have a look around."

  Vadania and Devis ranged outside the village while Tordek and Lidda searched among and between the remains of the buildings. At first they found a few incinerated corpses scattered in and around the ruined buildings. Soon after, they discovered the mound of the main pyre still smoldering between the blackened foundations of razed cottages. They counted another sixteen bodies, big and small, bringing the total to just over twenty dead. From some of the corpses jutted sharp, slightly curved spikes, like short javelins. Others had crushed skulls or severed limbs. Judging from the number of burned homes, Tordek reckoned the total number of dead accounted for no more than half the village population.

  The furnishings inside the surviving buildings were smashed and overturned. A few hastily inscribed glyphs were smeared on the walls: obscenities and threats.

  "Goblin work," snorted Tordek.

  "Yeah," agreed Lidda. Even in the few months the two had spent together, they had seen much of the same carnage in other villages, where the people had hired them too late to save them from the raiders.

  In one of the two least-damaged buildings, Lidda spotted a trail of sooty footprints leading into the kitchen and back out again. She pointed them out to Tordek.

  "A child," he observed.

  The halfling nodded and held a finger to her lips as she followed the tracks outside and around to the back of the cottage. They ended at the mouth of a storm cellar, its gray, wooden flaps shut fast. Lidda pressed one pointed ear to the door and listened. She crept back from the cellar and whispered, "I heard breathing. At least three people, maybe four or five."

  Tordek nodded, unslinging his war axe.

  Lidda gaped at him. "What's the matter with you?"

  "They could be hostages," Tordek whispered back.

  Lidda considered that point and reluctantly shrugged agreement. "All right," she said. "Just let me go in first."

  Tordek didn't argue because the last time they tried strength before stealth, Lidda had very nearly come out of that situation a quarterling. At last he nodded, mouthing, "Be careful." He took a spot beside the cellar doors, the haft of his axe upon his shoulder.

  Lidda lifted one of the doors by the bottom rather than the handle. It rose only an inch before the bar caught, but that was enough to see that it was a poor defense indeed. It looked as though someone had slipped a broom through the handles on the other side.

  With a gesture, Lidda told Tordek that they were changing the plan. He nodded back, and she called, "Hello in there! Whoever attacked you is gone. We mean no harm. It's safe to come out."

  After a long pause with no reply, she added, "Really. We could help if you're hurt."

  Another silence followed. Tordek rolled his shoulders and bent his knees to keep from being caught flat-footed should someone suddenly burst out of the cellar.

  At last they heard the sound of the bar sliding out from the inner handles, and a reedy old voice called, "Stand back from the door. I want to see you first."

  "All right," said Lidda. She took a few steps back so as to be in full view of those inside.

  Tordek sidestepped to avoid the opening door, wincing as he heard the faint creaking and clatter of his armor. "Bother!" he muttered as his presence became obvious, stomping over to join Lidda in plain sight.

  The door opened a few inches, and a pair of bright blue eyes peered out at Lidda. The halfling returned the gaze with a winning smile. She said, "It's all right to come out now. There are only two of us here. Our friends have gone to scout around the village."

  The doors swung fully open, first one and the other. Standing between them was a one-legged human woman holding a bow, the arrow pointing at the ground between Lidda and Tordek. A girl of no more than twelve years stood beside her, bracing the old woman on the side of her missing leg. In the shadows behind them crouched a pretty, older girl with her arms around two smudge-faced boys no taller than Lidda. One of the boys had the broad features and deep skull of a dwarf.

  The woman chewed her cheeks as she apprised the armed and armored strangers. Her face was tough as an oak knot, and the arms that bent her bow were strong for a woman half her age. Tordek wondered whether any of his companions could have held it so long without wavering. The woman's gaze flicked over the swords at Lidda's hips, the shortbow on her back. It lingered even longer on Tordek's huge axe and the mighty longbow slung upon his back.

  "What brings you to Croaker Norge?" she demanded.

  "We were passing through on the way to Andaron's Delve," said Lidda. "We saw the smoke and thought we might help the survivors."

  Again, the woman looked suspiciously at their weapons.

  "There's a healer with us," Lidda offered.

  The woman's untrusting demeanor softened slightly, but her expression hardened once again as she raised her bow to point the arrow at a spot just past Tordek's shoulder. Tordek whirled to face the danger, unslinging his axe and raising it to guard in a fluid motion.

  Devis approached, raising his empty hands in the universal gesture of surrender. He seemed less concerned by Tordek's axe than by the direction of the old woman's arrow. He winked at her and smiled. The gesture was lost on Tordek and Lidda, but it made the old woman lower her aim to the ground once more.

  "My name is Devis, fair lady," the bard bowed low with a courtly flourish. He walked to the cellar and offered the woman his arm. "If you would permit me the honor…"

  Tordek and Lidda stared as the old woman relinquished her weapon to the girl at her side. She looped her hand through the crook of the bard's arm and allowed him to help her up out of the cellar.

  "It's got to be a spell," said Lidda out of the side of her mouth.

  "Hmm," agreed Tordek.

  "I would never fall for that folderol."

  Tordek grunted another affirmative then wished he had kept his silence as the halfling's face brightened in remembrance.

  "You found him fetching when you thought he was a woman," said Lidda. "Didn't you?"

  Tordek frowned. He returned his axe to its sling and ushered the rest of the children out of the cellar.

  "Seriously, how does he do it?" persisted Lidda. "I mean, what was the first thing that attracted you to him in the tavern?"

  "Drop it," warned Tordek.

  "Oh, come on. It's funny."

  "Not in front of the children."

  "I bet they'd think it was funny, too."

  "Lidda."

  She laughed, and her delight infected the children, brightening their fearful faces for the first time since they emerged from the cellar. She gave Tordek one last, mischievous look before giving up. "Killjoy," she said.

  The old woman's name was Kerel, and she was no relation to the children who had survived with her in the cellar. Except for a brief sortie to fetch food from the kitchen, they had remained hidden after the assault, fearing that the raiders would return to finish looting the remaining buildings.

  "The attack began two and a half hours before dawn," she reported. Tordek liked Kerel's precise description. She spoke as if reporting to a commanding officer, and in fact she told them she had once served in the New Koratian army. "At first there were cries of fire. By the time I came outside, half the houses were burning. There were at least thirty goblins, many of them with torches, but the fire came so fast that something else must have started it."

  "Drink this," said Devis, handing her a steaming cup. Kerel looked around to see that all the children had hot drinks before she gratefully sipped hers.

  "Vadania should have returned by now," noted Tordek.

  "She took wing to survey the surrounding area," said
Devis. "We found a dead ox with some nasty bites in it. She says to burn them before we leave."

  "More of those spider-eaters?" Tordek asked.

  Devis nodded.

  Tordek turned back to Kerel. "Did you see any unusually large insects with the goblins?"

  "Aye," she said. "Mostly we heard them buzzing around above the firelight, but I saw some of the goblins riding the things. They looked hard to control, especially around the fires, and they left after most of the men were captured. They took only the strongest men and boys and killed the rest, but it was obvious that the one they wanted most was Kurdag, our smith. They captured him and his two elder boys first, beating them down and shackling them hand and foot. They stuffed them into a cage carried off by most of those giant bugs all together. This is Kurdag's youngest son, Bandar."

  The dwarf boy squared his jaw and stared stoically ahead. Tordek knew how he must feel, torn between the desire for revenge and the shame of having escaped his kin's fate.

  "Did you see their commander?" asked Tordek.

  Kerel considered the question. "No, not a commander as such. Mayla saw something else among the goblins. Tell them, lass."

  "It was horrible," said the elder of the girls. She had freckles on her nose and shy eyes the color of cornflowers. "It was riding one of the monstrous bugs. At first I could only hear its voice, cackling at the slaughter as it flew its mount closer and closer to the flames. That's when I saw the rider appear out of nowhere. It was smaller than a child, but horrible, with oozing green skin and these wretched horns."

  "There, there," said Devis, taking Mayla's hand and sitting close by her side.

  Tordek wanted to kick the bard in the seat of his tight pants, and from the look on her face he surmised that Lidda was entertaining similar thoughts. Tordek said, "Let her finish."

  The girl seemed brave enough despite the recent trauma, but she welcomed the consoling shoulder Devis offered. She gave him a sad, grateful smile and continued. "It clung to the saddle with its feet and beat the insect with a little stick, driving it down closer to the flames until its wings caught fire. It had its own wings and hovered there in the flames after the bug fell. It was hooting and cheering, telling the goblins what to do, ordering them to…kill everyone."

  "I gathered those that I could," said Kerel, putting her arm around the young girl who had supported her earlier. "Jaylee was helping me get them down to the cellar when we saw Mayla staring at the monster in the flames. When it looked at her, we could almost see the hairs standing up all over her body. There was something of the abyss in that thing's eyes."

  "I don't know what happened to me then," said Mayla. "I was so frightened that I ran. I think I must have screamed."

  "That you did, my dear," said Kerel, "but so did every last, living soul within thirty paces of the wicked little creature, even the goblins. Luckily, you ran right past us, and we were able to bring you down into the cellar before it thought to come looking for you."

  "What was it?" asked Lidda, her eyes wide in thrilling horror. "A demon?"

  Kerel shrugged. "Don't know what else, if not that. Anyway, we saw no more of it that night, though we heard far more than we'd have wished. We barred the door and tried covering our ears while we prayed for deliverance. Eventually, Pholtus sent us the dawn."

  "Then you came," said Mayla, looking up at Devis. He smiled back at her.

  Lidda coughed violently.

  "You say they used most of the spider-eaters to carry the cage with the smiths?" said Tordek.

  "That's how it looked to me," said Kerel. "The rest of the goblins were preparing to drive the captives out of town on foot."

  Overhead, a hawk screamed as it wheeled over the village, slowly descending toward them.

  "She's back," said Tordek.

  The villagers looked on in wonder as the hawk glided to a graceful landing atop a nearby fence. The creature folded its vast wings then ruffled them briefly as if shaking off a wet rain cloak. Afterward, the bird appeared strangely altered, with longer legs and a much bigger body. Its feathers shrank and turned to a long, white mane along its head and neck. It shook its wings again, and man who jilted her for another. Sends the fellow a poisoned mince pie, supposedly from his intended. The man dies horribly. Gurg. Gah. The whole town knows it's Sandrine to blame, so they chase her out into the fens. It's winter, so she freezes to death, but just before she dies, she prays to Nerull the Reaper for revenge on the villagers. Nerull grants her life after death so she can prey on fickle men by luring them into the swamp and drinking their blood.

  "There," he concluded with a disgusted glance at Tordek and Vadania. "Short enough for you?"

  "Perhaps a little too short," suggested Vadania. "What manner of creature is she? A vampire?"

  Devis shrugged, adopting an offended air. "I thought you didn't want to be troubled with such trivial-"

  "He doesn't know," said Tordek. "Do you?"

  "Sounds like a vampire to me," said Devis. His indignant expression crumbled underTordek's glare, and he added, "but no one knows."

  "She is deathless," said Kerel. "That much is sure. Whether by sorcery or some unholy bargain, no one knows. Those who might have learned did not return to tell their tales, thank Pelor." She drew the circle of the sun god over her heart to ward off evil.

  Tordek turned to the old woman. "This Sandrine-whatever foul thing she has become-she lives in this swamp?"

  Kerel nodded. "I knew her sister. She was an old woman when I was Jaylee's age."

  "Then it's true about the luring and the drinking?" asked Lidda.

  Kerel shrugged. "Every few years, hunters find the bloodless body of a young man out near Sandrine's cottage. There are warning totems, for even the trogs know how dangerous she is. Despite the warning, some young fools from the village still go there on dares and stories of buried treasure."

  "Not anymore," said Bandar, gazing out at the smoking ruins and the black remains of the pyres.

  The young dwarf's words cast a pall over the gathering, and no one had anything more to say before Tordek and his companions gathered their packs to set off once more.

  TERRITORIES

  Tordek swept his war axe completely through the first defender and let the powerful momentum carry the blade past to cut off another of the wretches at the thigh. Four big, bloody pieces of goblin splashed to the marshy ground.

  Tordek glanced up to see Lidda's green-fletched arrows fairly streaming at the main body of guards. The goblins screamed impotently as the swamp grass clutched their legs and held them to the ground. Her spell completed, Vadania joined the halfling in picking off the trapped goblins one by one with keen sling bullets that wounded where they did not cripple and crippled where they did not slay.

  Behind the fierce women, the captives from Croaker Norge scrambled for cover. Most of them were still bound with leather shackles and collars, but they wasted no time getting away from their entangled captors.

  Devis felled one foe with a shot from his crossbow then darted past Tordek to stand between the village captives and the goblins that weren't entangled by Vadania's spell. Tordek grunted his approval. Initially he had feared that the bard might do little more than cheer the attack with a song or stand back and fling a few spells with his lute, but it was good to see that Devis did not quail at the prospect of toe-to-toe combat.

  The goblins recovered quickly from their initial surprise at the ambush, and the survivors formed a rough wedge as they advanced on Tordek and Devis. The leader tumbled backward with the shaft of one of Lidda's arrows protruding from his eye, but the remaining goblins charged the attackers that stood between them and their captives.

  The half-elf's slender blade dipped in and out of his foe's guard, plucking splashes of blood from the goblin's unarmored face and arms. Devis barely seemed to move, but wherever he leaned or turned, the goblin spears missed him by a coin's width. A few that might have grazed the bard glanced aside, and for an instant the pale blue outline of his mage
armor shimmered brightly.

  Tordek fought much more directly. He caught the enemy blades on his shield and shoved them aside to form an opening for his axe. Wherever the heavy blade fell, it left ruined armor and gore in its wake. He split the skull of his first foe with an overhand thrust and shoved hard with his shield as a pair of goblins strove to pull it away and give their fellows an opening. Even in twos and threes, the goblins were too weak to withstand Tordek's battle-hardened strength. He bellowed with blood-glee when a fallen goblin's skull cracked under his boots, and he advanced into the fray.

  After the initial clash, Devis stepped back and let Tordek lead. The dwarf welcomed the doubled odds, feinting an overhand chop but instead kicking his nearest enemy in the chest. As that one fell, Tordek redirected his balked swing, breaking another goblin's boiled-leather helmet and smashing the skull within. As from a distance, he heard Lidda's joyous shout, the thrup of her bow, Vadania's sweet voice turned savage in chant, and Gulo's terrifying roar. The din was but a murmur beneath the triumphant pounding of Tordek's heartbeat. His blood surged hot and rhythmic through his warrior's frame. He felt the beat of war-drums in his belly.

  Before he could give himself up to the rapture of combat, the fight was over. All the war-heat drained from Tordek's body as he gazed over the battleground.

  Everything was gloom and shadow under the cloud-veiled sky, through which the sun was little more than a silver coin above the swamp. Although the trees were never so dense as to bar the way, the mist was so thick that they could see no farther than a few dozen yards in any direction.

  Tordek trudged across the field, watching for pretenders among the fallen foes. Every second step was a gray puddle or a patch of the smelly mud that was already oozing into Tordek's boots.

  A quick tally told him they had slain fourteen goblins, but more might have lain trampled beneath the muck. Tordek had a small cut on the bridge of his nose. A goblin arrow hung from Vadania's cloak, though it seemed to have missed her body. From her shield jutted a few more arrows, and the sight reminded Tordek to look down at his own. It bristled like an angry porcupine. The others appeared completely uninjured.