The Goblin Reign Boxed Set

by Gerhard Gehrke

  “The archduke uses scrip,” she said. “It’s officially worthless in any of the towns belonging to Pater the Zealot. It’s illegal for open purchases. But most merchants still use it. If I were to give you any advice, it’s to not go to Eel Port.”

  “Won’t you get into trouble giving me all this?” Spicy asked.

  “Like I said, my master Barberos is blind. The last time he looked at his books, he couldn’t read his own writing, let alone mine. And there’s enough bribes that get left with me that don’t show up in any ledger.”

  “Why are you being so generous? Couldn’t you use this money for yourself?”

  “It’s not that easy. There are no free goblins in Bliss or in Midsea. When you go out of here, everyone is going to suspect you’re an escaped slave. Even in Eel Port. You’ll need a human to act as your master.”

  “I don’t know any humans.”

  “Then you’ll have to do a good job at hiding.”

  From upstairs, a man bellowed. “Daphne!”

  “Someone’s awake. I need to check on him. You need to get out of here. Go out the back. Or say the word, and I’ll find a place to hide you. It’s not too late to change your mind.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t.”

  Barberos called again.

  Daphne gave his hands a squeeze before trotting up the stairs. He watched her leave, wishing he could make the wrong choice.

  Spicy took a last look at the treasure of books. Once alone, Spicy reached up and took one of the atlases. One of the maps had Orchard City and Pinnacle marked, at least, but had no geographic features besides the vaguely marked Inland Sea and the ocean to the west.

  The atlas barely fit inside the backpack.

  He realized he had no idea where she’d put his clothes. After a cursory search, he came up empty.

  From upstairs, Barberos was shouting. “There’s someone here, isn’t there?”

  Spicy swore. He slipped into his shoes and headed out the back of the house. Shouldering the backpack, he ran, the bottom of the blue bathrobe dragging through the mud.

  Chapter Twelve

  For the next three days and nights, Alma’s soldiers were certain they could hear the tribesmen following them. Alma detected no sounds besides those of actual birds and a black bear she had spotted, but she kept the news to herself.

  Blades’s ankle had improved enough that his complaints now focused on the fact that Alma had used him as bait to lure the tribals to their camp. He also wanted to eat the horses because the hardtack was all gone.

  Alma vetoed the idea. For the moment.

  The morning air was chilly when they made it to the road near the shore. A half day’s walk put them back at the beach where they had landed. A lone dark gull hovered over the gleaming gray water. The boats were a ruin. The scattered corpses of the men were picked almost clean.

  Billy shuddered. “It came out of the water without warning. It was the same troll. It still had your arrows in its head. May the Mother take the troll and the sea.”

  The other two privates murmured their agreement.

  Alma scoured the ground. The chain and ropes that had bound their captive troll still lay near the blackened bones where they had burned the creature.

  “Go through everything,” she said.

  When the other men hesitated, not wanting to come down closer to the shoreline, Billy waved them on. They sifted through the debris scattered across the rocky beach. Buzzards and gulls dispersed and circled about overhead.

  Blades just watched the water. “Think it’s still out there?”

  Alma studied the few patches of sand and mud. She discovered an oversized footprint near a few remains which were covered with flies and tiny green crabs. “After it killed the men, it continued to head up the shore on land.”

  “Well, judging by the bodies, it only ate some of the men it murdered. Maybe you should tell the men that.”

  “Having them think the troll’s looking for them for its next meal keeps them motivated.”

  Blades smirked. “Lord would be proud of you. Tell them what they need to hear, right?”

  She shot him an angry look. But Billy and the other two weren’t close enough to overhear.

  “Hey, peace, sister. I’m not saying that’s a bad plan. But we’ll need more than a fear of trolls and mountain bogeymen to get us back home.”

  “Don’t call me sister. And I’m aware of our situation. We need food, shelter, and rest. And those bogeymen almost pitched you off a cliff and would have killed you if we didn’t stop them. I don’t know what you hope to salvage here, but I’ve decided I’m not returning south empty-handed.”

  “Did you miss the fact we’re starving and stuck in enemy country? If the zealots catch us, they’re not going to check our records with the mercenary company to see if we’re a good hire. They’re going to do horrible things that’ll make getting chucked down a mountain look pleasant.”

  “We’re missing something here, Martin. The troll was after us because we had the other troll captured. It makes it to the boats, destroys them, kills anyone here, finds its dead comrade. That should be the end of it, right? We caught our troll near the mouth of the Eel. It should be going back home. But this one is going inland. Why?”

  “You know what bears do in the woods.”

  “You’re such an idiot.”

  “So maybe it wanted a change of diet. Looking for a new home. Who knows what a troll does? They’re brainless monsters.”

  She found a second troll footprint and probed it with a finger. “Maybe. But that goblin we took prisoner on the water showed up just before it attacked during our crossing. What if the troll was with him?”

  “Like monsters working together? What, did they unionize?”

  “The goblins clearly had some sort of association with the dragon. All their glyphs. Their books. They all led to the dragon cave. It’s like the dragon is their god. The troll’s part of this too.”

  Blades spread his hands wide and shrugged. “What does any of it matter? All I care is that the troll’s not here. Maybe it climbed up the mountain to die, for all we know.”

  “Or it’s chasing the goblin for some reason we don’t understand. And that dragon is out there somewhere with Lord’s books. For some reason I can’t place a finger on, that goblin is a key to this.”

  “We should have killed the little creep.”

  Billy and his men had collected an intact crate with a few bundles of dried oats that had become sodden from the rain. Alma sniffed a package.

  “Doesn’t smell moldy. Make a fire. Let’s fill our bellies. Then we head south. Billy, keep watch.”

  He nodded. “And where will you be?”

  “I’m going to follow these tracks for a little ways and see what I can see.”

  She didn’t mean to scout so far. Like the others, she needed to eat. But the tracks continued inland and led near the road, where they ran parallel. Just to the south lay the goblin village they had raided. The troll’s path cut that direction with little regard for trees and thorny patches of vines. Then, as if having changed its mind, the troll headed uphill.

  Alma stopped at the road.

  There were recent boot prints in the mud. Some of the shoe marks appeared ragged, like soft-soled moccasins. At least one man was barefoot. No care was given to concealing their passage. The prints were headed south. But whoever it was had no horse with them.

  She detected smells, too. Any military unit on the road left its telltale marks on the land, be it bent grass, litter, or human waste.

  The Empire of the Inland Sea was a coalition of over a hundred villages that had sworn allegiance to Pater the Zealot. The largest of the villages lay on the west shore of the Inland Sea north of Eel Port, with Midsea as the empire’s capital. But if there was a general muster to fight the archduke, then it made sense that groups of men would be moving along the east shore road.

  It had been a matter of luck they hadn’t encountered any soldiers
before. That they had no horse indicated their poor state of supply.

  She returned to the beach.

  The small fire burned and shed a white plume. In a recovered cookpot simmered a paste of sticky oatmeal. One of the men stirred with a piece of driftwood while Blades watched, a spoon in hand. By the smell, Alma knew the porridge had been made with seawater.

  She sighed. She let the men eat while she stood guard. Using her fingers, she finished off the pot and tried not to think about the flavor.

  All of them looked to her once she was finished.

  “Our situation is far from hopeless,” she said. “The troll is gone. It doesn’t care about us. Right now, no one knows we’re here. There are signs of soldiers on the road. But we’re better trained than any of them. If we’re careful and quiet, we can continue south, collect what information we can, and find a way to cross the sea and get ourselves back home.”

  On their tired faces she saw a glimmer of hope. No doubt the food helped. Only Blades appeared skeptical. She ignored him.

  “So that’s the plan?” Billy asked. “Go south?”

  She rubbed her hands clean in sand. “Yes. But also, we’ll take down all the information we can. Troop movements. Anything else we can see and record. That way when we make contact with the archduke’s army, we don’t come in empty-handed.”

  Blades snorted. “You think a spy report will keep us from the rope?”

  “One hurdle at a time. We’re going to need more supplies than this. Horses. A boat.”

  The mention of a boat was met with downcast eyes. She showed her bow and placed her finger in the center of the glyph. This caught the attention of Billy and the two soldiers.

  “The dragon knocked me off a ledge. The blow should have crushed me. I was saved by the smallest strap of leather. This bow never left my side and my luck has held. It will continue to carry me to safety. You can be safe, too. Lord didn’t believe and look what it cost him.”

  Billy was the first to place his own hand on her bow. Both Vine and Elias followed suit.

  Blades was shaking his head. “It worked for that goblin, didn’t it? So why not.” He too put his hand with the others.

  “Good,” Alma said. “We have enemies all around us. But they’re the ones who should be afraid. Now put out the fire and let’s make time while there’s daylight.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The guards and dogs that had been patrolling the streets of Bliss were out of sight as Spicy made his way back to the harbor.

  The hour was late.

  Most of the lights inside the houses were extinguished. Even humans needed sleep. But the shadows in every alley could have concealed a dozen men along with packs of dogs. Spicy tried to calm down and move quietly, but he found himself trotting along the muddy lane leading to the water.

  The closest guardhouse on the wall had a lantern burning but no one was visible. The air held a growing bite that robbed Spicy of all the warmth he had felt while inside the home of Daphne’s master. No doubt the guards were bundled and taking shelter.

  The boats tied to the piers were of varied shapes and sizes, yet Spicy knew he wouldn’t be able to pilot one himself. The smallest could be used by one person working the oars. But rowing across the sea didn’t sound possible.

  “Hog!” he hissed. After waiting a moment he called louder, but the water didn’t stir. Even if she were right underneath the rolling sea around the docks, there would be no way for her to hear him.

  He hopped down onto one large boat that was big enough to take twenty men on board. There were a few small barrels on deck that reeked of rotting fish. Prying off a lid, he confirmed the container indeed held fish, or at least parts of fish. He lifted the barrel to the edge and poured the contents into the water.

  It didn’t take long.

  Hog rose from the dark sea, noisily sucking down water and fish parts. It was too loud. Spicy waved at her, trying to shush her, but she paid him no attention as she continued to slurp down the floating chunks of fish. He turned to watch the guardhouse. No one stirred.

  “Hog, you have to be quiet!”

  Finally she drew herself up alongside the boat. Standing, her head came just above the gunwale. A jet of water erupted from her mouth as she spat. Then she started laughing.

  “Are you done?” Spicy asked.

  “Is there more?”

  Spicy fed the troll once she promised to eat more quietly. She gulped the contents of each barrel as if it were the last meal she might ever eat. She smacked her mouth as she chewed. A belch escaped her throat.

  A man appeared on the wall by the guardhouse.

  Spicy snapped his fingers to get her attention. “Pick me up. Time to go. But I have books. Can you keep me dry?”

  Hog grunted. Then she sank into the water. He searched for her and only saw bubbles. A rope dangling from the prow went taut and ran out into the harbor. The boat beneath him jerked. He almost lost his balance as he clung to the side. The boat shifted and the rope strained, but the vessel only bobbed as it remained secured to the pilings along the dock.

  “Wait, wait, wait.”

  Spicy rushed to the other side of the boat. The knots were complex and impossible to figure out. He tugged on one rope, trying to slip it over the piling. It didn’t budge. He climbed to the dock for a better grip, but the ropes held fast.

  Meanwhile, Hog continued to pull.

  The ropes tightened and then went slack. The boat began to thump against the dock.

  “Who’s over there?” the guard on the wall shouted.

  At the end of the dock was a small handcart filled with kindling wood. Next to it lay stacks of logs for burning. Spicy ran over and found a small hatchet.

  The guard on the wall shouted again, and a second one answered from the opposite side of the harbor. A dog started barking. Two dogs. Bliss’s canine population was waking once again.

  Returning to the boat, Spicy whacked at a rope. On the third chop, it snapped. A second line held the bow. This he severed on his first try, and then the boat was moving. He jumped and landed hard on the deck. Bright lights flashed across the boat. The men at two of the guardhouses had reflectors attached to their lanterns.

  “Alarm! Alarm! Boat thief!”

  Spicy scrambled to the bow. Hog was marching forward, only the top of her head visible.

  “Hurry, hurry, hurry,” he urged.

  A light found him. He had to shield his eyes.

  “There!”

  More men were shouting from the wall. An arrow flew past, striking the water.

  Spicy got down as another arrow thunked into the prow and another whizzed past where he had just been standing. More arrows struck the back of the boat as Hog pulled them deeper, her head vanishing under the gentle waves of the sea. Soon the arrows stopped and the shouts grew more distant.

  He called Hog’s name.

  The sea was moving the boat up and down and making him dizzy. He shouted her name again, over and over until his throat grew sore. Just as he was about to give up, the line leading forward went slack.

  Hog stood erect, her nose and mouth rising just above the surface, with the prow line between her teeth.

  Spicy waved at her. “The humans will come for the boat. But we can’t leave without the dragon.”

  She just stared.

  He gestured back towards land with a chopping motion. She mumbled something, the water bubbling, and down she went.

  The boat shifted and jerked forward once more. But they were turning and heading for land. Spicy could barely think of anything besides getting back onto shore where the ground didn’t move. Soon a scraping sound came from underneath the boat and the vessel shuddered as it touched ground.

  Hog rose up and tossed the rope away. She stood thigh-deep.

  Spicy didn’t wait for her to help. He threw himself overboard. The water was deeper than he expected and he sank to his chest before scrambling out of the water. It was freezing. He managed to keep his pack held alof
t as he waded to dry sand. The bathrobe swelled and hung like a weight on his shoulders. Hog followed and towered over him.

  It looked like all the lanterns along the walls of Bliss were lit and many were shining out at the water. Men were moving along the pier. Dogs too, and their barks carried and echoed in the trees. But their stolen boat was out of range of the lights, just a dark shape in the black night.

  Spicy would have to make his way inland to find Fath. He couldn’t abandon the creature. But then what? Fath would insist they continue south. Pursuing Rime and the children would mean having to cross the sea towards Eel Port to the west.

  Perhaps the atlas with its incomplete map might sway the dragon to find a better chart over in Eel Port. Meanwhile, the other map in his pocket would have to remain hidden.

  And if Fath decided a map wasn’t worth the trouble? Any delay would mean losing the stolen goblins to whatever slave owner held them. Spicy would have to be persuasive. He still feared the dragon and what he might do if Spicy openly defied him.

  He was shivering.

  “We go find worm?” Hog asked.

  “No. Hog, how far could you drag this boat? Can you do it while swimming when the water gets deep? Could you take me all the way across the sea to the other human town?”

  She made a low grunt. “Water stinks.”

  “Yes, it does. I’d like nothing more than never to be on it ever again. But my friends are over there on the other side.”

  “Then Hog will take Meat there.”

  Spicy looked out at the darkness. The dragon, his master, the creature who was teaching him reading and the strange letters, would have to make his own way. Spicy turned and waded back into the water.

  A black shape slithered from the shadows and coiled up on the shore. “Where are you going, child?”

  Spicy spun and almost fell. “Fath? I was…we were…”

  Fath rose. He was breathing hard. Steam trickled from his nostrils. The words caught in Spicy’s throat as the dragon’s head bobbed side to side.

  “Choose your next words carefully,” Fath said. “I can smell lies. Like the lies about the map. Unless my ears deceive me, which they never do, your intention was to break your promise and forfeit your duty to me.”