Ramus had followed her to the doorway. “What are you doing?”
She grabbed the boy and hauled him to his feet and led him out past Ramus. Arens looked at her and then the boy, an expression of confusion on his face. She shoved the young human in the direction the other adults had run.
“Go.”
She turned to face both the hunters. Neither said anything as the boy stumbled and ran off.
“There. We’ve done what Noe ordered.”
Arens nudged Ramus, who shrugged him off.
Ramus shook his head in disgust. “You weren’t there, girl.”
“And neither of you were in Boarhead.”
He grabbed Arens by a sleeve and led him across the field. “Let’s go catch one of their animals before they all scatter so we have something to eat.”
The fire had caught the eaves of the cottage. Thistle went back inside. Using the candle, she searched the place. She was surprised to find a hutch and a stool. A cubbyhole held a stack of brown paper. On several pages were lists of numbers and what she presumed were dates written in a column. A recorded metric of some kind—the weights of animals? She couldn’t tell.
Beneath the stack she discovered a bound notebook and a charcoal pencil.
“What are you doing in there?” one of the goblins asked. “The roof’s on fire.”
“Seeing if there’s anything worth taking.”
“Leave it. We’ve spent too much time here. Get out now. We’re burning it all.”
Thistle nodded and pocketed the notebook and pencil. Before leaving, she blew out the candle and took that too. The other goblins outside were lighting anything that would easily burn. They didn’t seem to notice as she left.
A scream punctuated the silence. It was a human woman, her voice echoing in the distance. The sound didn’t repeat. Thistle waited and listened, but one of the departing hunters urged her along.
The rest of the band followed, with Noe and Ramus at the rear.
Soon, all of them gathered at the edge of the meadow with the horses they had captured from Lord and his mercenaries. There they paused to watch it burn.
Chapter Two
“You said we would scare the humans, not murder them.”
Thistle was hurrying to keep up with Noe, who strode ahead of the others, ever on point as the column of goblins marched along in the night. They numbered over twenty now, having met up with those who had kept watch on the coast road, eyes open for any human soldiers while the others had made their raid on the farm.
“Those were just farmers—a family with children,” Thistle said.
Noe gave a dismissive wave. “They had weapons. We could have murdered them all, and that’s what we should have done. This is a warband, not a peace party. We let some of them go.”
“But the scream. I heard—”
“Be silent, Thistle. We have a ways to go and must be quick and quiet. There are humans on this road who will hear your complaints.”
Thistle looked around at the shadowy scrubs as if expecting to see humans hiding there.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, just quiet. Now fall back with the others.”
Noe went on ahead, alone, as Thistle paused to allow the other hunters to pass her by. Ramus and Arens both gave her sharp looks, but neither said a word. No one made a sound. The goblins were once again phantoms traveling west along the upper shore of the Inland Sea.
They found a place to camp behind a sandy berm well away from the road. Noe placed watchers on four sides of the camp while the main body hunkered down and caught a few hours of sleep. Once the sky brightened, most of the goblins began to dig in the mud along a trickling stream. Tiny fingernail-sized crabs could be found there, which they popped into their mouths and munched with little joy.
Thistle made a face. She was adept at gleaning, as every goblin was from childhood. Her mother and father had trained her from an early age to eat whatever she could catch that wouldn’t be saved for later. Bugs, mollusks, fungus, grubs, and crustaceans were all part of their diet, complementing the game and rice and other farmed grains and vegetables. But nothing plucked from the freshwater streams near her village of Boarhead had tasted so nasty.
Eating the tiny crabs was like licking a piece of iron dipped in rancid mud. But she ate. Something about the wriggling, crunchy morsels reminded her of how different she and the goblins were from the humans. When she had been taken prisoner, she had observed how the soldiers under Lord’s command would eat their meat and game and cooked porridge and hardtack, but they had complained of hunger when there were so many things around them that were free for the taking.
How such finicky humans had become so numerous was a mystery.
A goblin not much older than she crouched next to her. He had green skin and freckles. He rinsed off a few crabs and began eating them noisily. While she didn’t recognize most of the warband who had rescued her, as only two were from her village, he looked familiar.
He offered her a palmful of crabs. “I hit the mother lode. Mine, I’m sure, taste sweeter than the ones wallowing in your patch of mud.”
“They’re all the same.”
“That’s where you’re mistaken. See, these ones with the tiny eyebrows taste like strawberries.” He popped one in his mouth and crunched down. “And this one?” He took a whiff. “Floral. Honey and almonds with pear notes.” This crab he placed on his tongue as if to savor it before chewing.
Thistle offered a weak smile. She accepted the remaining crabs and ate them while trying not to think about the flavor.
“You’re the girl who talked to the dragon. We haven’t actually had a chance to meet.”
“And you walk with a limp. What happened?”
“Bruised tendon in my heel. Took a fall when fleeing Thousand Groves.”
Thousand Groves was the neighboring village to Boarhead. According to her brother Spicy, it too had been razed and its citizens slaughtered.
“How did you make it all the way out here?”
“A lot of running, or as best as I could manage. I went back into my village once I saw most of the soldiers leave. A few of the humans had stayed behind. I watched as they rounded up the refugees arriving from Boarhead. When I saw what they did to them…”
One of the hunters made a dove call. The goblins gathered themselves and their weapons.
The freckled goblin held his last crab out to Thistle. “You’ll need your strength.”
“It’s all right. I couldn’t eat another. Why don’t you take care of yourself so you don’t fall behind?”
Thistle brooded.
She knew what she had heard during the raid on the farms. The woman’s scream.
Something had happened to those who had fled. She wanted to speak with Noe again, but there was no opportunity to talk during the day as they pressed on and traversed the grassy lowlands. They kept the sea and the road in sight but avoided traveling on it.
Occasionally a signal from ahead would be passed along, causing all to hide and remain still, only to proceed minutes later without any indication there had been any danger. No humans were around but there were signs of their presence: cut tree stumps, cart tracks, and the hoofprints of horses.
She knew there were goblin villages around the sea. According to the report, Lord’s party had massacred the residents of a hamlet they had found on the eastern shore of the sea. She wondered how the other goblins in the region managed to get along with the local humans.
Every time she tried to advance up the column to catch up to Noe, she was ordered back by one of the hunters. Finally in the late afternoon they were ordered to stop. A cutting wind blew down towards the sea. They found shelter under a grove of pine trees. Noe and over half the hunters were nowhere in sight.
Ramus and Arens were nearby and both appeared eager to go forward over a rise in the road, but they held their position.
“What is it?” Thistle asked. “Why have we stopped?”
Ar
ens looked at Ramus, who sighed before answering. “A couple of farms with humans.”
“Is there a reason we’re taking so long scouting them?”
When no reply came, Thistle crept past the hunters.
“Hey!” Ramus hurried to catch her and hauled her back underneath the trees.
“Let go of me.”
“Keep your voice down and mind your elders.”
She yanked herself free. “I’m Somni’s apprentice. I have a responsibility.”
It seemed for a moment that mentioning Boarhead’s dead sage had an effect.
Then Ramus pulled her close and spoke through clenched teeth. “I heard what your brother said about what happened to Somni. He’s dead. And from the sound of it, he could have warned all of us about the humans, but didn’t. Your own father and mother are gone, as is my Zina. The time for sages is done. So enough of your nonsense.”
The freckled boy from Thousand Groves stepped in and separated them. “Hey, back off. She’s been through as much as we have. Maybe more.”
He escorted her away.
“I didn’t need your help with them.”
“I’m certain you didn’t. You were willing to go off with a dragon. I’m sure there’s nothing you’re not capable of.”
Ignoring the flattery, she threw off his hand. “I need to know what’s happening.”
“Why?”
She felt all of Somni’s lectures bubbling up, but at the same time couldn’t remember any of the words that would make sense.
“It’s my responsibility.”
“Because? Is this what a sage needs to do? Be the chronicler of your village? Report everything for the benefit of future sages? My sage Thurten and your Somni are both gone. Their libraries are ash.”
“Then we rebuild them.”
“Rooms of books did nothing to save us. It’s their time now, the warriors and hunters. That’s what our people need.”
“Is that what you are? A warrior? You don’t have a bow or a spear. Why does Noe even have you along?”
The freckled boy smiled. “Because I’m an apprentice doctor. Call me Wren.”
Chapter Three
An accounting of the war party who pursued Lord Root and his mercenaries from the outer boundaries of Athra, the Fallen Ridges, and along the Inland Sea to Mother Mountain.
I, Thistle, was one of two rescued from the raiders’ hands by Noe and her band and am grateful to the moon for their bravery.
Spicy, my brother, along with a majority of the residents of Boarhead and Thousand Groves, remain missing or dead. But Spicy joined the dragon who will not be named by me as according to the sage’s oaths to its kind.
Lord Root’s soldiers murdered more goblins who are unknown to me in at least two other villages, Blackpool near Spirit Rock, and another unnamed community near the northeastern shore. But before Noe’s band could catch up with Lord in the volcanic region near Mother Mountain, Lord and his men met their end under the claws and fangs of the dragon.
Noe’s band has raided three farm communities in as many days as we return to Athra.
The purpose of my telling
Thistle paused to think.
Wren sat close to her as they waited with the horses near a pair of dugout canoes. A few human-sized huts stood near the water, but there were no signs of the residents. A veil of smoke drifted among the trees and with it came the smell of something burning.
Noe and a dozen of the hunters returned down a cart track.
“Gather yourselves,” she ordered. “We make for the marsh. No delays.”
Thistle put the notebook and pencil away.
The band readied themselves without comment. Arens picked up a bundle of supplies. He dutifully avoided eye contact when Thistle tried to engage him. Noe heaved on her own pack. Before she could head off, Thistle stepped in front of her.
“What did you do here?”
When Noe tried to move around her, Thistle took her spear from her. All the closest goblins stopped to watch.
“Were there human soldiers to fight or was it just more farmers and fishermen?”
Noe spoke in a flat tone. “Four farms. And four families. We killed three men and sent the women and children running. We poisoned the well and put their stable to the torch. And now we return to Mire Linda where you will be returned home.”
“What purpose does this serve? How long have the humans lived here? How many generations? These aren’t the soldiers who attacked us.”
“They’re humans. I don’t need any more distinction than that.”
“Does your chief know what you’re doing?”
Noe appraised Thistle with her jaw clenched. “Remember that we came to save you and your brother. You have no role here but to show silent gratitude. Soon you’ll be free to return to Boarhead, or what’s left of it. And Thistle? Never speak of my chief to me again.”
Thistle waited for most of the goblins to pass her by before falling in. Wren limped along beside her.
“This is a mistake,” Thistle said. “These people aren’t our enemies.”
“No? Are they our allies? Did they do anything to stop the soldiers who invaded us? If not, then whose side does that place them on?”
“That sounds like a slippery philosophy. Lord was a mercenary operating under his own command. He wasn’t fighting for Pinnacle or Pater the Zealot. He wasn’t loyal to anyone but himself. And he never even passed through this area.”
Wren paused to catch his breath. “But his soldiers murdering our kind with such cruelty speaks to a deeper conviction. What if it’s a trait all the humans share? It appears Noe isn’t afraid to learn from them. Who are you to say she’s wrong?”
“Because I’ve studied it. I’ve read about humans and goblins and the wars.”
Somni’s library had held several texts detailing the conflicts between the two. Even in living memory some of the older veterans of Boarhead had fought in what they called the Old War. The conflict had been a series of raids between the goblins of Athra and the men of Midsea. It had no determinable beginning and had ended when a force of humans had been ambushed and killed.
This was before the rise of Pater the Zealot. He had unified the villages of Midsea under a single banner of faith and governance and proclaimed his land an empire. No more humans had come to Athra. The peace since had always been assumed to benefit both peoples. Somni and the other sages had been debating for years how to pursue a lasting peace through envoys and treaties. But more immediate emergencies and the needs of survival had always postponed such efforts. Plus, there were voices of dissent, especially from Mire Linda and other goblin villages closer to the sea.
“Noe doesn’t have the authority to pursue war with the humans,” Thistle said.
“Says who? You? As you’re fond of reminding everyone, you’re just an apprentice. And even if there was a sage here, what could he do but voice an objection? You’ve done that. Your voice was heard.”
“She ignored me.”
“She’s not going to stop to take a vote on her actions.” Wren paused to adjust his pack. He winced.
“It’s not just your ankle, is it?”
“A cracked rib or three. Plus I get dizzy spells. I recommend a week of bed rest.”
“Lean on me and I’ll help you.”
They walked together until a signal came from the front of the column. They gathered in a sheltered pasture shielded by hedges. It was getting dark. By Noe’s decree, there would be no fires. Thistle helped Wren find a patch of ground where he could lie down. She settled in next to him, intent on continuing their conversation.
He nodded his thanks. From his pack he produced a glass flask. After uncorking it, he dipped a metal rod into the container and extracted a drop of liquid. This he placed on his tongue before putting the flask away.
“Is that…” she began to ask.
He nodded. “Poppy paste. It lets me keep walking.”
“You should say something. We could make a crutch
or even a litter.”
“Don’t say anything. I’m already falling behind. Noe doesn’t want anyone slowing her down.”
“You’ll be home soon. We should be in Mire Linda in a day, maybe two. From what I’ve heard, the village still stands. You’ll get the help you need.”
He grimaced as he adjusted how he sat. “They’ll be dropping you off and gathering more supplies. But I’m going with them.”
“Gathering more supplies? Why? I hadn’t heard anyone say anything about this.”
He didn’t answer. As if to change the subject, he flicked the blue ribbon dangling in her hair.
“A sweetheart from Boarhead?”
She touched the ribbon Spicy’s friend Rime had given her the night before the mercenaries had come. “A young hunter who’s always flirted with me. Rime. He’s sweet.”
“He lives?”
“He was taken with a few of the children. I have to believe he’s still alive.”
“I’m sure he’ll return to woo you with many more ribbons.”
Thistle felt her face grow hot. “He’s young for his age. Besides, with my work…”
“Too busy for a romance or you don’t want a distraction from your studies?”
“Both. Sage Somni took a chance taking me on and I didn’t want to risk letting him down. He never made an issue of it, but my mom and more than a few others weren’t pleased Somni had taken a female apprentice. ‘We have our roles to serve,’ Mother would say.”
Wren unrolled a blanket and struggled to get comfortable as he stretched out. “Brave girl. Willing to defy mother and community.”
A sharp sting of emotion flooded her. “It was my father who stood up to her for me after Somni invited me to apprentice.”
“He was with the ambushed hunting party. And your mother?”
She nodded. “Spicy said she made it to Thousand Groves with some of the survivors.”
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