The Goblin Reign Boxed Set

by Gerhard Gehrke

She eyed him suspiciously. “What did you have in mind?”

  “From my observations, it’s interesting when three soldiers for hire come to town who, according to my sources, have departed their posts without permission from their superiors. That makes their visit here fraught with danger.”

  “Get to the point.”

  “You’d risk your life entering Eel Port, and the first thing you do is seek out a goblin. Not even taking the time for a bath and a meal. That means that little fellow is worth more than the pennies you paid and also worth more than our flesh trader here gave me for him. That’s why I just bought him back.”

  “I need to speak to him.” Alma tried to step past the men but one of the guards blocked her way.

  “Not for free, you don’t.”

  She sighed and reached for her money pouch.

  Harold raised a hand to stop her. “I saw how much you have. It won’t be enough. But perhaps we can come to an arrangement which will satisfy both our needs. What information do you seek from the goblin?”

  Blades edged closer. “We paid you already to talk to him.”

  The guards straightened up, their hands on their weapons.

  “Uh-uh,” Harold said. “You paid to learn his location. He’s inside here, as I told you. Now we begin a new transaction. If it puts you at ease, remember I can help facilitate the sale of any merchandise the goblin might help you acquire.”

  Alma motioned for Blades to back down. “We won’t just tell you what the goblin knows. Like you, we recognize what we know has value.”

  “Smart girl. But I can just turn you away and put my new goblin slave to the question. He might even survive well enough that I can resell him once I’m done. I’m sure I will extract what I need to know. But it would be so much easier if we work together. Much more pleasant, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Alma appraised the men in front of her. With Blades and Vine, she was certain they would be able to take them down. But there was always the possibility of getting hurt. And more guards might be inside the warehouse.

  “A dragon,” she said. “He knows the location of a dragon.”

  Harold laughed. The slaver with the clipboard looked confused, and both guards grew uneasy as Harold doubled over.

  “That’s good, so good. It’s been too long since anyone has come up with anything so amusing!”

  “I’m not lying,” Alma said. “We all saw it. It attacked a group of men across the sea near Bliss. It’s following the goblin. The goblin has a troll, too. It’s what pulled their ship across the sea.”

  Harold’s grin faded. “You’re going to have to do better than that. The goblin must have stolen something from you and buried it somewhere. In fact, I’d lay money on that. So spare me your dragon story.”

  Blades drew his weapon. Vine followed suit. The slaver with the clipboard jumped back as both guards freed their clubs and squared off with Blades and Vine.

  “Put your weapons away!” Alma ordered.

  Neither men moved. The two guards were clearly outmatched. Alma knew either Blades or Vine could cut them down without breaking a sweat.

  Harold snapped his fingers. “Back off, both of you. There’s no fight here. We’re just talking.”

  The guards backed away.

  “What kind of trouble did you bring here, Harold?” the slaver asked.

  “Shut up,” Harold said. “You’ve made your profit for the day without lifting a finger.”

  Alma let out a sigh. “Let us in to see the goblin. Listen in, if you want. I intend to ask him about a dragon.”

  “That’s your story and you’re sticking with it, then? Intriguing. All right. Let’s go see my goblin and we’ll ask him together.”

  Harold started to lead the way into the warehouse.

  “Wait,” Alma said. Both Blades and Vine halted.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Alma took a moment to smell the air. It was like working a hidden-picture puzzle, ignoring the things that were obvious, and focusing on those which were not. The town stank, so it was impossible to be sure. But she smelled the sulfur stench of the dragon.

  “It’s here. The dragon’s here.” She stepped to the open bay and checked inside. “How many entrances? Are there skylights or an open floor?”

  “No skylights,” the slaver said. “And the floor’s built over solid rock.”

  “Seal this place up.”

  Harold studied her for a moment. “My god, you’re serious. Do as she says. If this is some game…”

  “It’s not. We may have just had our work done for us. It’s inside. Listen.”

  The goats and pigs were working themselves into a frenzy.

  “What’s happening to my stock?” the slaver asked.

  Alma put out a hand to stop him. “It’s not worth your life.”

  The slaver only hesitated for a moment. Then he gestured to the guards and they closed the bay doors. Next they moved to the side entrance and hammered a board across the closed door.

  Harold stood with his arms folded. “And now?”

  “And now we finish our deal,” Alma said. “Because if I’m right, we have that monster trapped. All we need to do now is figure out how to kill it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “The warehouse is sealed up,” Harold said. “But there’s no way we can keep an eye on this place. It’s too big.”

  “How many men can you bring?” Alma asked.

  “My rogues aren’t fighters. And most of them are sleeping.”

  “Better wake them up.”

  “I think not. I want to see some sign of this dragon. Right now this appears to be a massive waste of time or a trick. Let’s open one of these doors.”

  But the slaver was gone. Both his guards remained, but they didn’t move to assist Harold.

  “Leave them closed,” Alma said. “We’ll need archers. Five or six, if you have them. There has to be a few men you can summon with offer of payment.”

  “For the capture of a creature that might not be real.” Harold tugged on the bay doors but they were padlocked. “Blast it, where did that man go?”

  Alma went to one of the guards. “Your master—where is he?”

  “Said he was summoning help,” the man said.

  Vine stood back and kept an eye on both the warehouse’s front and the side alley. Blades sat on the edge of the loading dock. Alma watched the street, wondering what sort of help the slaver might summon, as they hadn’t made any kind of plan on what to do now that he had locked the warehouse up.

  Her question was answered some thirty minutes later with the arrival of several soldiers, with Commander Zane at the front of the column. The long sword on his belt bounced against his legs. His face was sweating and his eyes were bleary.

  The slaver trotted along beside him. “That’s them and that’s the woman. She had me seal up my entire warehouse with her mad story.”

  “What’s going on here?” Zane asked.

  Harold stepped forward. “We’re conducting business here, Commander, nothing more.”

  “They let something in!” the slaver said. “I heard my animals screaming. My livestock is being murdered! Arrest her and Harold and help me save my property.”

  “Commander,” Harold said, “nothing untoward is happening. We’re just controlling an escaped animal, which might not even be inside the warehouse. I’m sure you have more pressing duties to perform.”

  Zane dabbed his brow with a handkerchief. “Harold, if you’re here, there’s a reason that involves money. Now is when your business becomes my business. I don’t come out on calls like this without compensation.”

  Harold sighed. “Commander, this might be a bust. Nothing to be had for any of us. Let me compensate you with a couple of bottles from my own stash. White mule. Clean. Won’t make you blind like the bad batch going around down at Flinty’s.” He tried to put an arm around Zane, but the commander nudged him aside.

  Zane nodded at Alma. “If she’s here, it’s troub
le. But it also might mean you have something worthy of my attention.”

  “We could use your men,” Alma said. “We have something trapped in there that’s worth plenty. But it’s dangerous.”

  “It’s a dragon,” Blades said with a smirk.

  “See, Commander?” the slaver said with a helpless gesture. “They came here with this story and then ordered me to close it up. I would have sent them packing but then I heard my livestock having a fit.”

  “And so you came to get me,” Zane said. “And how do you know it’s not just a dog in there? You have your guards.”

  “She was very convincing.”

  Zane shook his head. “A dragon? What nonsense. And I guess you didn’t actually see it?”

  The slaver didn’t have an answer.

  From inside, the goats continued to protest, but the animals had quieted some since the warehouse had been sealed up.

  “Well, something has your livestock upset,” Zane said. “A dragon, you say? I’ll send my men inside, but I’m extracting a toll from all of you for wasting my time. Let’s go.”

  Alma got in his way. “Commander, you have to believe me when I say you don’t want to go in there. If you could summon some crossbowmen—”

  “Right now I’m reconsidering arresting you. How you’re involved in this farce is beyond me. Step aside.”

  The slaver led the way down to the side entrance. Alma readied her bow and kept towards the rear.

  Only Blades trailed behind her. “Let’s get out of here,” he mouthed.

  “Wait. Just wait.”

  The wide alleyway was shared with a brewer. Empty kegs were stacked against the neighboring building. The entrance to the warehouse was up a raised loading platform. Using a flat piece of steel, the slaver pried a piece of wood away that had been hammered in place to seal the door.

  As the door opened, Harold stepped out of the way so Zane and his men could pass.

  The nearest guards had their spears pointed at the entrance but none wanted to be the first to enter. They had two crossbowmen with them. Both fumbled as they cocked their weapons.

  The commander marched to the door without hesitation.

  The slaver crouched and examined the ramp leading to the platform. There were gouges in the wood.

  “I didn’t notice these before.”

  “Don’t be afraid,” Commander Zane said. “My men are with you. See to your livestock.”

  The slaver and his two guards went in and the soldiers filed in after them. Zane stepped aside to allow his men to pass.

  “Commander,” Harold said. “Maybe it would be best to call your men back.”

  “Why Harold, you’re going to get me to believe you care,” Zane said. He drew his sword and positioned himself in the doorway, muttering something about dragons.

  Harold backed down the ramp and murmured, “How dangerous is this thing?”

  “If it makes it out, it will kill all of us,” Alma said. She remained at the bottom of the ramp and made sure she had a clear view of the entrance. At such a close range, she would only have time to fire a single arrow if the creature came bursting forth as it had from its cave.

  “And what of the soldiers inside? That’s a lot of men. Maybe they’ll kill it.”

  “Why don’t you see for yourself how it goes?” Blades asked.

  “If we close the door now, we might keep it inside and have a chance to do it my way,” Alma said. “But this is going to have to play itself out, isn’t it?”

  Harold got behind the two mercenaries and waited.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Spicy didn’t believe in prayers. Sure, the village elders would say them, intoning blessings upon the tribe and the village and a hunt or a harvest. Some spoke specifically to the moon or stars or the sun. His mother never bothered, and his father had only spoken them in an undertone, except when he believed no one was watching.

  But the moon, stars, and sun, while magnificent wonders, never inspired Spicy to try to talk to them or ask them for anything. Yet at that moment, listening to the frightened children whimper, he was prepared to beg anything that might listen for help.

  And what would Fath say when it saw him on his knees, beseeching a higher power that wasn’t him?

  “Please…” was all Spicy could manage before he realized he didn’t know what else to say.

  Perhaps thirty minutes had passed since the humans had sealed up the warehouse when a prying sound came from the sliding side door. It squeaked open. There were voices as men entered, their boots heavy.

  The slaver rounded the corner. He still clutched his clipboard. The keys were on his belt. He scanned the cages and the spaces beyond. “The animal pens are just past here. Looks like the goblins haven’t gotten out.”

  “What’s happening?” Spicy asked.

  “Be quiet,” the man said.

  His two burly guards followed and moved towards the animal pens. More men came after them holding spears and crossbows. The goats renewed their urgent bleats.

  “See anything?” a man called from the doorway.

  With the main doors closed, the warehouse still had many shadows. None of the men were spending much time looking up.

  Spicy whispered to the other cage. “Domino, Dill, the rest of you, listen. I want you to do something for me. I want you to close your eyes. Can you do that?”

  Rime nodded at Spicy. He gathered the children close. “Listen to what Spicy says. We’re going to huddle up now.”

  “That’s it. Close your eyes. Think about blackberry season. And pie. And going swimming when it gets hot. We’re going to do all those things again. But you have to think hard on it and try not to even see this place. Imagine for a moment that it doesn’t even exist.”

  The children huddled around Rime. Domino was trembling.

  “Domino, remember the words to ‘Ganjo the Goat’?” Spicy asked.

  She shook her head. Spicy licked his lips. But the words to the song he had known since infancy weren’t coming to him. He managed to hum the tune. Domino closed her eyes and pressed her head against one of her sisters.

  Spicy stood on his toes to see.

  Fath made no sound as he slid down a support beam. The men beneath him filtered among the pigpens and goat corrals. He dropped, landing on top of a group of spearmen. Screams followed, along with the rending of leather and flesh.

  Other men in the warehouse began shouting in panic.

  The dragon vaulted across a pen and landed on top of a hutch. He spun and his tail lashed out. Something crunched. A man screamed in pain. Several more crashes followed. A man cried for help, while another shouted, “It’s here! I’ve got it! Someone—” before being cut off.

  The slaver ran past the cages, with one of his guards almost overtaking him as he tried to flee. The dragon launched past over the tops of the cages. The guard went down in a flurry of claws.

  Fath then pounced at the slaver.

  He caught the man just as he had almost made it out the sliding door. They vanished behind a partition near the exit. There came a wet slashing sound and a sickening series of snapping bones. Several parts were flung away, which mercifully landed in the shadows. Fath stuck his head over the partition, a belt in his mouth, which he flung. It landed on top of the bars of Spicy’s cage. It was covered in blood. The keys were still attached.

  Spicy grabbed for the keys but the belt and the ring holding them wouldn’t pass through the bars. Inch by inch, he pulled the keys along until he got them down to the keyhole.

  “Hurry,” Rime hissed.

  The dragon was on the move again, darting past and smashing into another soldier. Then Fath vanished. The sliding door to the outside remained open. Two guards made it out the door and he could hear their boots running down a wooden ramp.

  From his angle, Spicy couldn’t get the key into the lock. “Rime, help me with this.”

  Rime reached over but couldn’t get more than fingers through his own door.

 
; One of the soldiers came crawling past. He was panting and dragging badly mangled legs behind him. “Help me,” he gasped.

  “Hey!” Spicy called. “Open this cage and I’ll help you get out.”

  The soldier paused to stare at Spicy in disbelief. From somewhere in the darkness came the sound of movement. Talons clacking on the wood. It was coming closer.

  “This is your only chance. Turn this key and I’ll protect you. Otherwise, the dragon will kill you.”

  The soldier clawed his way to the cage. “Promise me. Promise you’ll keep that thing away from me.”

  The floor creaked. Fath was somewhere on the opposite side of the cage. The goblin children began to whimper. The man froze, his lips trembling.

  “It won’t hurt you if I’m with you,” Spicy said. “It’s here for me. If you let me out, you get to live.”

  The soldier turned the key and the lock clicked. Spicy shoved at the door, but there was a dragon in the way. Fath had slithered around the cage and settled down near the man. He studied the soldier. The hapless man scrambled away but his legs prevented him from moving far. Fath extended a long talon and stabbed the man in the thigh, pinning him to the floor. The soldier shrieked.

  “Fath, he helped us,” Spicy said. “I said I’d protect him.”

  A low grumble rose through the dragon’s body. Heat radiated from his skin. “You make too many promises.” Fath pulled the man towards him. The soldier scratched at the wood as he was drawn across the floor. The dragon pressed a palm on the man’s head and crushed it like an egg.

  Spicy stifled a scream. He felt his stomach churn and forced himself not to look at the dead soldier. With both hands against the cage door, he pushed it open. As he grabbed the keys and was trying to open the other cage, Fath knocked him to the floor.

  “You promised me a map.”

  “I’m going to get it. First I have to get them out.”

  The dragon lifted the keys from Spicy’s hand. “And then you’ll have your mewling pups to serve as an excuse. You’ve wasted time and my patience, apprentice.”

  A distant bell began ringing. It reminded Spicy of the village bells used to sound gatherings or warnings. Eel Port had a dragon in her midst.