The Goblin Reign Boxed Set

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The Goblin Reign Boxed Set Page 12

by Gerhard Gehrke


  A goblin wearing only hide pants and holding a cluster of javelins waited for him. He appeared to be about Spicy’s age. His face was lined with a broad red stripe that covered his nose and cheeks.

  “Who are you?” Spicy asked.

  The goblin put a finger to his lips.

  Spicy listened to the still air. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Because you’re talking.”

  Spicy put his ear to the rocky ground.

  The goblin snorted. “Who taught you that? Just be quiet.”

  There was the faint movement of air as it blew from the direction of the sea. The sky was mostly blue. But still the insects remained silent.

  Spicy shook his head. “It’s quiet,” he whispered.

  “Yeah. That’s the problem. They’re coming.”

  The goblin turned and hurried along the stone face of a granite slab and then climbed up the side of a gravel slope. Spicy followed. He had to hurry to catch up, as the goblin leading him moved fast once they were under the cover of more trees. They ran along a faint trail that led them ever higher. An hour passed before the goblin stopped to allow Spicy a moment to catch his breath.

  Spicy’s throat was parched now, and he felt dizzy. But he didn’t want to show weakness.

  “Where are we going?”

  The goblin cupped his hands and put them to his mouth. He made an owl noise. A moment later it was answered with a similar call. Spicy recognized it immediately as the call he had heard on the upper ridge trail near Boarhead the day the raiders had attacked.

  A second goblin appeared, tall and thin and well-muscled. He wore a sleeveless coat and held a bow. On his back were two quivers loaded with arrows. He was burdened with a few satchels and had a canteen. The two greeted each other.

  “Runner.”

  “Stripe.”

  Runner handed the canteen to Stripe, who uncapped it and took a chug. Spicy’s dry tongue pressed between his lips as he watched. He wasn’t offered any water as the canteen was handed back.

  “Who are you?” Spicy asked.

  “The humans are following this one,” Stripe said as if Spicy wasn’t there.

  “Why’d you bring him with you then?” Runner asked.

  Spicy got between both goblins. “Hey! I asked you a question. Which village are you from?”

  “He doesn’t look like a shore dweller,” Runner said. “Turtle Rock?”

  Stripe shook his head. He prodded Spicy in the gut. “Nah, too fat. Further west. Up in the hills near where the humans started their raid.”

  “Too fat?” Spicy asked incredulously. “Look, if there’s humans heading this way we have to keep going. They kill everyone they meet. Take me to your village chief. Or your mayor. Or whatever headman you have in charge.”

  Runner stepped close, crowding Spicy. “We don’t have to take you anywhere. In fact, you leading them here means you’ve put our village in danger.”

  “That’s not what I meant to do. They were already coming here without my help. But my sage has come all this way and I have to find him. I have something that the humans are looking for that he needs to see. And the humans have taken prisoners—my sister, my friend, other children. I need your help. We have to get your warriors together.”

  Runner and Stripe both smiled. Then another owl sound echoed from the trees. Stripe answered. Two more goblins appeared, these quite young and rail thin. They came trotting down the nearest slope. They wore leaves and branches in their clothes. Dressed to hunt. Each carried his own javelin.

  “Aren’t there any grown-ups here?” Spicy asked. “Where’s your village?”

  “Who’s he?” one of the children asked.

  “Stop ignoring me! They killed everyone in the village down at the shore three nights ago. If they’re following me, they’ll come here too.”

  “Maybe we should kill him and leave him here,” Stripe said. “They’ll find who they’re looking for and then they’ll leave.”

  Spicy shouted in rage and pushed the youth back. He didn’t know where the anger came from but didn’t care. Stripe fell on his butt and dropped his bundle of javelins. Spicy made fists with his hands and prepared himself. He hadn’t ever been much of a fighter. The boys in Boarhead knew it and wouldn’t have been deterred by his display of bravado.

  Runner and the children just watched as Stripe got himself up from the ground and brushed himself off.

  “Look,” Spicy said, trying to speak as calmly as possible. “You can’t be in charge here. What I have is important. This isn’t a game. If you won’t help me, then get out of my way.”

  Both Stripe and Runner busted up laughing. The children joined in. Spicy felt his face grow warm and his hands tremble.

  Stripe could barely speak between gales of laughter. “He thought…he actually thought we were going to kill him!”

  Spicy saw that the trail continued along the side of the slope. He shoved past the children and started walking.

  “Wait,” Runner said and caught up. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m done talking to you. If this isn’t the way to your village, then I’ll find it eventually.”

  “We were only playing,” Stripe said, jogging along behind.

  “I’m hungry and exhausted and not in the mood.”

  Runner walked along beside him and offered the canteen. Spicy took a drink. The water was sweet and cool. He paused to swallow before taking down more. If they only had one canteen, their water source had to be nearby.

  He handed the canteen back. “Is this the right direction?”

  “Yes. Two-mile walk. I’ll lead you. There are no grown-ups. They went to raid the humans over a month ago. Besides a few elders, only our old sage and the one you’re looking for are there.”

  “My sage is there? Sage Somni? From Boarhead? Take me!”

  “I will. But I don’t think they’ll be able to help you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  According to Stripe, the village was called Blackpool for the simple reason that it was situated next to the base of a generous waterfall, where a wide beach surrounded the eponymous pool. A steady flow of water poured down from the heights.

  The village itself was small but well concealed. The cluster of simple huts looked spartan and tidy. It wasn’t until they climbed down a narrow granite path that Spicy saw a few caves had been dug into the hillside away from the pool.

  At first it appeared that the village was abandoned.

  The first grown-up they found was a broad-hipped goblin matron with a colorful headwrap. She was tending a fire. A dozen blankets were draped over drying racks around the firepit. Several swaddled infants were laid out on a blanket under the cover of an overhang where a young goblin girl was folding laundry. The woman with the headwrap moved to a basin of sudsy water and pulled out another blanket and began to wring it dry.

  A pair of older girls appeared, both bearing armloads of firewood. The matron put them to work with the laundry while she went to tend to one of the babies who had begun to cry.

  “Wait here,” Runner said. He went and spoke with the matron. She gestured vaguely towards one of the caves. Runner waved Spicy along. The woman didn’t offer him anything more than a disinterested glance as she began to breastfeed the fussing baby.

  “Are all those hers?” Spicy asked.

  “Their mothers went with the men on the raid.”

  In his own village the women rarely hunted except out of necessity. The thought of them going off to risk their lives on a raid was shocking. But judging by the number of homes, Boarhead had ten times the population of Blackpool.

  Runner tugged on Spicy’s arm. “I’ll take you to Sage Glomer.”

  In front of the entrance to the cave was a wooden structure with a door. A wide pipe ran its length from which trickled woodsmoke. Above the door was etched the symbol of two lips.

  Blackpool was the mystery village. Here lived its sage.

  Spicy pushed past Runner and opened the doo
r. The smell of burned herbs and smoke filled the dimly lit cave beyond.

  A clay oil lamp threw enough light for him to see.

  Two older goblin men were laid out on sleeping pads amidst a collection of books, papers, and maps. A small stove connected to the exhaust pipe made the room swelter. Both goblins were asleep. Spicy recognized the craggy purple face of Sage Somni. He knelt next to him and shook his shoulder.

  “Sage Somni!”

  He groaned but didn’t stir. Spicy kept trying but got no reaction.

  “They’re dreaming,” Runner said. He lit a few more lamps and poured more oil into the first.

  “Sage Somni, you have to wake up!”

  Runner put the oil pot away. “You can’t wake them. When Sage Glomer retires to his dreams it takes him days to wake up. Sometimes a week.”

  “A week? I can’t wait that long. When did my sage arrive?”

  “Yesterday, on horseback. The raiders have been gone for almost a month. Our sage has refused to answer our questions.”

  “Is it just you? Are you the oldest?” Spicy couldn’t hide the desperation in his voice.

  “I have two other hunting parties out gathering.” Runner sighed. “And yes, I’m the oldest of the children. So tell me you have news of the humans. Surely our raiders drove them away.”

  Spicy looked down at the sleeping goblins. “I don’t know about your raid. And I don’t know where to start. I thought when I got here that there would be help. They took my sister. They murdered everyone. And all I have is this stupid book.”

  He brought the book out and threw it to the floor.

  Runner didn’t appear interested. “I don’t know my letters.”

  “Apparently I don’t either. The humans attacked my village of Boarhead two weeks ago. They’re looking for someone to help them read the old script. They want my sage.”

  “He’s visited every year since I can remember. All they do is hide in here for days and dream.” He nudged a clay bottle and it tipped over. “And drink.”

  On the floor near both men were tiny bowls of what looked like flaky gray plant material. There were no pipes for smoking. Spicy took a pinch of the stuff and smelled it. It reminded him of mushrooms but none he was familiar with. He picked up a lamp and searched the rest of the cave. It went deep into the hill, with several furnished rooms at the rear with deer hide lining the walls. But it smelled damp. Only the front room had books, and the collection was meager compared to Sage Somni’s library in Boarhead.

  Spicy began to go through Sage Somni’s pockets. “The humans have a dog. And at least one of them is a tracker. They might be coming after me, or they might already know the village location. I figured it out just by looking at the book and having studied a map. They have their own map. I think you need to get everyone out of here.”

  “Mother Marla will refuse.”

  “Is she in charge or are you?”

  Runner didn’t answer.

  “Explain it to her. They shot everyone full of arrows, young and old, in the fishing village down by the sea. In Thousand Groves they strung them up on a tree. And at Boarhead…”

  Spicy couldn’t finish.

  Runner nodded and left the cave. Spicy found a stocked larder with several packets of dried meat, fruit, and nuts. He started eating. There was no water so he washed the food down with some of the wine. He paused to stare at the bottle. It was rice wine from his village. Had Sage Somni come this far just to fall down drunk with his fellow scholar while their world ended?

  “Wake up, old man,” he whispered and then took a long swig.

  By the time Spicy emerged, there were more young hunters gathered. Whatever Runner had said must have worked, because the matron, the girls holding the babies, and several elderly goblins Spicy hadn’t seen before went retreating up the hill in good order.

  The village had three horses remaining in the stable. According to Runner, one had brought Sage Somni to Blackpool. It begged more questions. Runner didn’t know where Somni had procured his horse. Neither did Spicy.

  Runner got the other hunters moving. They carried their hunting weapons and a shoulder bag of food each. He designated Stripe to be in charge of the fleeing villagers while he stayed behind.

  Spicy’s head felt fuzzy and he regretted drinking the wine. His balance was off. He felt suddenly unafraid, which was both comforting and troubling. He went to check on Sage Somni.

  Both the sages continued to dream. They reeked of sweat.

  “Can you shoot?” Runner asked as he entered the cave.

  “I’m a hunter,” Spicy said. “I’ve just never shot anything like a human. They have armor.”

  “Then aim for where they don’t have any. If they have horses, try to hit the horse.”

  Runner gave him a bow and a bundle of arrows. He then led him outside to a rocky overlook where they had an excellent vantage point of the sloping rocks below and the pathway they had taken into the village. Spicy clutched the bow. Its pull was much heavier than any he had ever practiced with. It was a grown-up’s bow. One for studded hunters.

  They waited and listened. In less than an hour sounds broke the evening’s silence.

  The soft jingle of metal. A horse hoof striking stone. The shuffle and scrape of men’s boots.

  “I didn’t think it was possible,” Spicy said softly. “They found us.”

  “You’ve been hiking this way for how many days?” Runner said. “Isn’t it obvious? You think they couldn’t have run you down at any time? They’ve been following you.”

  Before Spicy could protest, Runner backed away off the boulder. Spicy followed. He put the bow and the bundle of arrows over his shoulder.

  They had the last horse packed with a satchel of food and some water. Runner pointed to the narrow trail the others had taken. It would lead further uphill towards a cluster of larger rock formations.

  “Wait,” Spicy said. “I can’t leave without Sage Somni.”

  “No. We leave the old men behind. If that’s who the humans are after, then they’ll leave.”

  Before Runner could take the reins, Spicy snatched them away. The mottled horse was amazingly docile and followed as he led it towards the cave.

  “There’s no time,” Runner said. “You’re going to get us killed.”

  Spicy dropped the reins outside the entrance and hurried inside.

  Sage Glomer was sitting up and there was a kettle on the stove. “Get out,” the old goblin said in a creaky voice.

  Somni still lay on the floor, his head on a pillow.

  “Humans are coming,” Spicy said. “You have to come with us now.”

  Runner almost collided with him.

  “Runner, take this lad and leave,” Glomer said.

  Spicy hauled Sage Somni to his feet. The old goblin stirred enough to look around, but there was no recognition in his eyes. He remained limp and was heavy.

  “Help me with him,” Spicy said.

  “Put him down,” Glomer said.

  Runner hesitated. Then he got one of Somni’s arms around his shoulder.

  “Sir,” Runner said, “he’s right. The humans are here. You have to follow us.”

  Glomer tried to stand but was too wobbly. “I have to do no such thing. And I’m ordering you to leave him.”

  Spicy pulled Somni along and Runner followed. Once outside, together they managed to get him up on the back of the horse. From the cave entrance came the slam of a heavy wooden door. Runner ran back to the door and started pounding. They heard a shout from the far side of the village. A human.

  “Runner!” Spicy hissed. He pulled the horse along. Runner caught up and led the way to the narrow path. Soon they were passing between high boulders, and they had to carefully guide the horse up loose shale that shifted under its hooves.

  “He wouldn’t come,” Runner finally said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. He was an old fool. The time for men like him is over. It’s a mistake to bring your sa
ge with us.”

  Sage Somni was groaning. Spicy had to hold on to him as the horse struggled to keep its footing. Once up the embankment, they were under trees and moving across soft soil. Runner hissed for Spicy to wait and pulled an arrow. Crouching, he trotted to the lip of a boulder. Spicy got the horse to stop moving, but its rear end kept circling and he had no idea how to get the animal to stand completely still.

  Runner stood erect. In one motion he drew back on his bow and loosed his arrow. Then he let out a whup and ran. He swung himself up onto the horse.

  “Come on!”

  “No, I can’t,” Spicy said.

  The animal was twice his size. To lead it was one thing. To climb on top of it was insanity. But Runner shot out a hand and Spicy took it. He was hauled up and wedged between Runner and Somni. Runner nudged the animal with both heels and clicked his tongue.

  The horse shot forward.

  Spicy clung to the boy in front of him and the sage behind and tried not to scream.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Straddling a running horse was like hanging on to a branch in the wind with his legs, if the branch had slick hair, hooves, and teeth. At any moment the beast was going to throw him.

  Spicy had to grip Somni to keep him from sliding off all while keeping himself balanced. Several times he had to duck as the horse crashed through tree branches, almost knocking him off. Miraculously, it never tripped as its four feet negotiated the roots and rough ground.

  “I got one of them,” Runner said. The lean goblin had been repeating himself during the course of their ride.

  “How many more are coming?”

  Runner shook his head. “I counted seven.”

  “That means there’ll be six of them which are now after us, assuming you killed the one you hit.” Spicy tried not to think about how far they’d have to ride to evade the humans, or if it was even possible. The heavy hoofprints would be easy to track.

  “I can count. But I nailed him. And with both of us, we can take out the others when they try to follow.”

 

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