The Goblin Reign Boxed Set

by Gerhard Gehrke

Spicy rose and began backing away.

  “Don’t run, goblin. I’m tired.”

  The hollow voice made no effort to speak in silence. The nearest sentry would surely hear.

  Spicy stopped moving. He raised his hands as if to surrender.

  The dragon snorted. “Do you think I fear any of your weapons?”

  “The humans left their mark.”

  Even though the moon had set, Spicy could see the creature had two arrows sticking in it. As if plucking a thorn from a piece of clothing, the dragon deftly used a claw and yanked each arrow out and flung it aside. In the camp behind him the hunters were whispering an alert.

  “We’re leaving your mountain,” Spicy said. “There’s no reason for you to fight us.”

  “A fight? You believe your band able to be a challenge to me?”

  “That’s not what I mean. You were at peace with the goblins and the sages. That doesn’t have to change.”

  “There was no peace. I was to be left alone and my presence kept secret according to the solemn promise. That promise was breached. Would it not be easier if there were none left who even know where my home resides?”

  “It’s only the humans who were trying to find you. Judging by the fact that you’re alive, they failed. None of my people even know you’re alive except as a legend. You’re free to return back to your cave and none of us will ever disturb you.”

  A vapor trail poured from the dragon’s nostrils. “Yes, about that. The explosion destroyed my home. The hall of memory I’ve crafted has collapsed.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  The dragon’s face lowered until it was inches away. “Such fragile creatures, your kind. Yet so much more than the men I just killed. The last sage I spoke with was a hundred winters ago. I never met your Somni. But he was an obedient servant, placing any finding at my doorstep for it to be entered into the archives.”

  Spicy frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Perhaps your sages indeed kept my secret safe. But the fact that men have laid hold of them means that time is finished. I will need a new place to set down what I know. And a new source for discovered wisdom. But first I must learn how they came to find me. And more importantly, where the humans gained the knowledge to build their explosives.”

  The goblins on the hill hissed to one another. Spicy put up a hand, the signal for any following hunter to hold their shot and be still. He could only hope they obeyed.

  “Is that why you followed me? You need my help?”

  “Don’t presume to understand my needs. I hadn’t decided until now whether to end all your lives or not. But much has changed since I last left my hall to peer at the world with mine own eyes. And with it gone, I know I must act.”

  With the end of its tail it pulled along a bag. It was Lord’s satchel. It appeared burned but otherwise intact. Spicy felt a jolt of fear.

  “Your skill at burning things successfully is as poor as your ability to not leave a scent mark for me to follow,” the dragon said. “This is what brings me to you. Take it.”

  Spicy took the bag.

  “Now open it.”

  Spicy removed the books and laid them out onto the ground. It was much too dark to read even the covers. A few of them were singed but all the volumes remained largely intact.

  “What does this have to do with me?” Spicy asked.

  The dragon let out a low grumble. “I require you to read the words here for me. I must know what the humans know. What other secrets did they discover?”

  As the dragon continued to loom, Spicy nodded. “Okay. I can light a fire. I’ll need one to read. But this will take time.”

  Suddenly the dragon raised its head and glared at the tree line. “Tell your goblins to keep back and to not point their arrows in my direction.”

  Spicy turned. “Put your bows down! He’s with me. He won’t harm you. He’s the one who killed the humans.”

  The closest sentry shifted in place and then lowered his bow. Other hunters held their position. Spicy could only hope that none accidentally fired an arrow.

  Thistle approached slowly from the shadows. “Hello, dragon? I heard what you were saying. I’m Thistle, Spicy’s sister. I’m the one you want. Let my brother alone, and I’ll be the one to help you with the books. I’m Sage Somni’s apprentice.”

  “Are you, now?” the dragon asked.

  She gave a deferential bow. “Whom am I addressing?”

  Spicy felt a flush of embarrassment. He had been speaking with the dragon and hadn’t even considered the fact that he might have a name.

  The dragon drew itself erect. “I am Fathafanathath. You are the nineteenth person to learn my name.”

  “I am honored to learn it and humbled to be in your presence.”

  Spicy didn’t know what to do. Goblin society didn’t share any of the storybook customs associated with nobility or royalty. They had no king or queen. Yet here was his sister engaged in an exchange as if such formalities were well rehearsed.

  “Then it will be you who comes with me,” the dragon said.

  Spicy had just saved her and now she was about to leave with this monster.

  “No,” Spicy said.

  The dragon looked down at him. “What did you say?”

  “Spicy, be silent,” Thistle hissed. “You don’t know what you’re doing. I do.”

  “I do know. I’m getting you out of harm’s way is what I’m doing. Look, Fathan…Fathafa…Dragon Fath…You’re not taking her anywhere. I may not be Somni’s number one apprentice, but I’m trained enough that I can do the work. And I didn’t come this far to have you leave.”

  “It’s not your choice to make,” she said.

  “Well it’s not yours, either.” He pointed up at the dragon. “It’s his. I’m the apprentice you want, not her. She’s smart, but it’s all book-smart. I’m the one who knew enough to find your lair without any help. I’m the goblin who you need to read those books.”

  Before Thistle could reply, Fath spoke.

  “Such petulance. Having two of you would prove burdensome. A test, then?”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Bring fire so the young apprentices can see,” Fath said.

  Noe stepped forward from the line of hunters. “The fire will signal any humans nearby to our presence.”

  The dragon snorted. “There are no humans nearby. Not anymore.”

  A hunter started a small fire. More of the goblins had drawn closer, clearly fascinated with the monster in their midst. Spicy still felt fear at Fath’s presence but now experienced a strange sensation of jealousy as the dragon rose up to his full height for the others to see.

  “What’s the test?” he asked.

  “Give us the books,” Thistle said. “See which one of us knows the words. You’ll see my brother only knows the most elementary language and can’t read the old scripts.”

  Spicy shot his sister an accusatory look. The books before them were illuminated enough that the covers could be made out. Of the books on the grass, the titles included Identifying Plants and Wildlife, Understanding Chemistry and the Sciences, and Translations and Language.

  Thistle picked up the book on plants and opened to a random page.

  “‘Let us give attention to the boring power of the woodpecker. Its hardened beak is designed for the piercing through of even the most hardened woodstuffs. Its ceaseless knocking drives a hole in the wood from which the boring worms and other insects may be withdrawn and eaten upon.’”

  She handed the book to Spicy. He examined the spine and then flipped through its pages. There were no pictures.

  “You want me just to read something?” he asked.

  “If you can,” his sister said coolly.

  He put his finger to a page. There was a large ‘S’ followed by the word ‘nail.’

  “The snail,” he said. Some of the words on the page were long ones that would take a while to sound out. “The snail is a crawling creature that plagues most gardens. It
can be fried in butter or its body smashed into grease for a cart or wagon wheel.”

  He shut the book.

  “It does not say that,” Thistle said. “Give me the book. You didn’t read it. You just made that up.”

  When Spicy refused to hand the book over she snatched up the next one. She found a page and held it open for him to read. Spicy stared at the words and letters. It was a chapter in the science book on basic math principles. There were formulae and figures and letters for numbers. It reminded him of a book the miller owned.

  “You want me to read math equations?” he asked.

  She flipped to the beginning of the book. “I want you to read anything where I can see you not making it up.”

  He took the book and looked down at the first page. His sister waited. The dragon was waiting. The fire popped. He felt his palms sweat. “‘The prin…principles of nat…nat-tu-ral…s-sciences are f-foun-ded in the math…math-e-matics of our universe.’”

  She plucked the book away and continued reading quickly. “‘The universe of matter can only be understood by those willing to use these tools to explain the interaction of nature’s most basic components. From these chapters the learner will develop skills which will be the foundation of knowledge in unraveling the mysteries of atomic and molecular structures.’ See, my lord Fath? He can barely make it through a basic sentence. You don’t want him aiding you.”

  “Indeed,” Fath said.

  Spicy felt himself trembling with rage and embarrassment. “Wait. You don’t just want someone to read basic script, do you?”

  “You were never taught the old script,” Thistle said.

  “I know it. I can prove it.”

  Fath tapped a massive claw on a bare patch of ground. “Show me.”

  Spicy grabbed a piece of unburned wood and began to draw. The loose soil and gritty sand made for a poor writing surface. The lines ran into one another and obscured the overall shape of things. But when he was finished, the eye glyph in rough form stared up at him. He saw no reaction in the dragon’s face.

  “You’ve seen that glyph on Sage Somni’s door every day of your life,” Thistle said.

  Spicy resumed drawing. He made his figures larger, his hand trembled less, and his markings grew more precise. On the sand he scratched the three-pronged flame from the soldier’s campfire, and then the lips marking Sage Glomer’s home, and next the two peaks that marked the canyon under Mother Mountain, and then finally the two eyes.

  Thistle studied the glyphs. Her jaw tightened as she watched him finish drawing.

  “Stop it!” Noe said. The hunter leader marched forward and swept the glyph marks away with her foot. “This is man-magic. It’s not meant for us. There’s a reason we never tolerated the sages and their nonsense in our village. It’s led to all these troubles. Dragon, if you have to take one of these children, then do so. Take both, if you must. But I’ll put up with no more of this. Evil’s been brought down on our land and you’d have us embrace it. It doesn’t belong to us. It was forgotten for a reason.”

  “They’re just shapes in the sand,” Spicy said. “Map markers. They communicate just like letters and numbers. It’s only human superstition that adds meaning.”

  “Your sages and their fathers brought the evil and the men to all of our homes. There’ll be no more of it.”

  Fath started laughing. It was a deep, rich sound, which finally ended in a racking cough. “Perhaps I will take both of you.”

  “No!” Spicy shouted a little too loudly. The dragon arched a ridge of his eye. “I mean, no sir. No, please. Just, no. Look, Thistle, you have to go with the rest of the hunters. There are others who survived the raid back in Boarhead. We have to have a place to return to when I find Rime and the children and any other goblins that were taken as slaves. Let me go with Fath and help him find what he wants. I’ve looked at Somni’s maps every chance I ever had. I have it all up here in my head. I know you know letters better than I ever will. But I know enough of them, and I know the maps. And I saw enough at Spirit Rock that I know the glyphs. Dragon Fath, that’s what you need. Me, and me alone.”

  Fath looked at both the goblin siblings. “Very well. You say you can help. But if I have to return for your sister, you won’t be coming back home.”

  “I’m going to help you. I’ll be the best sage you could ever hope for.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  The dragon swept sand onto the fire, extinguishing it. “Then collect the books and follow.” He began to move away into the night.

  Spicy bent down and placed the books back in the satchel. Noe and the other hunters watched in silence. The dragon paused at the opposite tree line to wait.

  Before Spicy could hurry after, Thistle caught his arm. “You only know the few glyphs you’ve seen.”

  “I’ve seen many. I can figure out the rest as I go. With the help of the books, I’ll make it out.”

  “He’ll kill you.”

  Spicy could only nod.

  “You have no supplies.” She snatched up a few things from one of the other hunters and pressed a bundle of provisions into his arm. “You don’t have to do this alone. It should be me.”

  He gathered the bundle and the satchel of books. His eyes began to sting. “One of our family has to make it. I’ll return home to you, I promise. Somni and the sages are gone, but someone has to be our keeper of knowledge. Besides, Rime needs to be rescued so he can come back and marry you.”

  “I don’t even like him,” she said.

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  They traveled through the remaining hours of the night. Spicy had to hurry to keep up with the dragon and had problems navigating the dark, stony ground.

  Fath led him up to a bare hill where the remains of a concrete foundation formed a convenient place for the dragon to settle down to rest. Whatever building had once stood there was long gone. Large cracks were filled with dirt where weeds and shrubs grew. The concrete was damp from drizzle. A chill breeze made Spicy shiver. The dragon appeared unaffected. It lay stretched out with his head raised and eyes closed as it smelled the air.

  Spicy collapsed next to him. He wanted nothing more than sleep. His growling stomach could wait.

  But it was the first good look he’d had of the dragon. As the sky lightened, he saw the creature’s skin was a pinkish gray with many folds and wrinkles. The pattern almost appeared scaly but its flesh was textured like that of an old goblin. It had five fingers and toes, each with a long claw. A few of the claws had broken. A hard shudder ran through the dragon. It coughed.

  Speckles of blood spattered the concrete beneath its mouth.

  Spicy rose to examine the creature. It had several seeping wounds. “You’re hurt.”

  “The men’s weapons found their mark.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything? The hunters had supplies. They could have helped.”

  Fath didn’t answer.

  “Let me go forage. I’ll find some moss to patch your wounds. Surely there’s materials nearby that will make you feel better.”

  “No. Bring out a place where you can make notes.”

  Spicy did as he was asked. In the satchel he discovered a ledger with numbers and figures pertaining to Lord’s platoon of raiders. It included dates and payments and a few lines detailing each man’s terms of service and disposition. It had also had many unmarked pages. He had to dig through the pack to find a remaining charcoal pencil, as the rest had spilled out and were lost.

  “Now put down everything I tell you.”

  Spicy nodded and readied the pencil and ledger. But instead of speaking, the dragon scratched lines on the concrete. They were similar to the symbols from the walls of the cave. He hurried to copy each down, although he failed to understand what any of it meant.

  Whenever he fell behind, Fath waited before moving on to the next symbol. After an hour Spicy had filled out a page with the strange swoopy and boxy words. He shook
his hand to free it of a cramp.

  Fath yawned. “Do you tire?”

  “I’m fine,” Spicy said. “How much is there to take down?”

  The dragon examined the page. “This is but the beginning.”

  “Then let’s keep going.”

  He had to fight to keep his teeth from chattering. He wished he had taken one of the blankets. Surely the hunters had broken camp after their departure. Thistle was safe, and the more time he spent occupying the dragon, the greater chance the creature would never be able to track her down. But then he found himself looking down at the page of writing. Although his lines weren’t perfect, he found the text he had produced pleasing, even beautiful, considering the circumstances.

  Fath wiped the faint scratches on the ground away. “We will need supplies. Provisions. Paper. Plus, we will need to find the nearest humans for a map. So much has changed.”

  “A map? I can draw us a map. Lord may even have had one in his bag.”

  He had, but the map was in tatters and fell apart in his hands. As best as he could tell, it held no accurate markings of any of the places they had been. No wonder the humans had needed the sages.

  Spicy picked up a rock and marked a spot on the concrete, and then another. A rough outline of the top of the Inland Sea went in the middle. Next, he placed Mother Mountain. An arrow for north.

  “The humans have no villages near here. They live to the south. The northwest is Athra. Goblin land.”

  The dragon placed his claw near the mark for Mother Mountain. “Place my mark there.”

  Spicy obediently drew the dragon icon. Fath studied the lines of the Inland Sea.

  “Trusting your map skills won’t do. And you don’t know what lies to the south.” With a claw he completed the bottom of the sea. Somni’s map had only ever included the northern half. Fath tapped the concrete to the south beyond the sea. “And place my glyph there as well.”

  Spicy walked around the growing map, trying not to soil it, and placed a second dragon.

  “That is where we go,” Fath said.

  “It’s very…far.” But Spicy was fascinated. The maps he had seen had left off so much. Yet the dragon seemed to know all of the missing pieces. How much of Somni’s library was stored inside the dragon’s head? What other secrets?