Goblin Rogue

by Gerhard Gehrke

  No one else was coming or going.

  Spicy slunk across the courtyard. Dim candlelight flickered from behind the closed shutters of the small building. Behind the half-closed shutters were bars. He could hear the guards talking inside.

  “Not sure what you think a doctor’s going to do,” said a thick voice.

  Another man kept coughing. “You don’t know that. He might just need smelling salts.”

  “Smelling salts? He’s dead! How hard did you hit him?”

  “Eh,” the coughing man said. “Hard enough to get his attention, that’s all. The archduke was going to do much worse if he held out.”

  “We were supposed to sit on them, not beat them to death.”

  “I barely touched him. It must have been his heart.”

  “The archduke won’t be pleased,” the thick voice said.

  A murmur followed. Then three men came outside. One wore a sleeveless shirt and was wiping his thick hands on a rag. He coughed and spat. The guards whispered to one another for a moment, then went off to another building.

  Was the low structure a jail? It was silent now. The only noise within the keep came from the portcullis as it clanged.

  Spicy knew he’d never have as good a chance as he did then. The three guards might return at any moment.

  He stepped softly inside. Just down a short hall, a lamp burned on a stand next to an open doorway. Inside lay a man on a cot. A set of chains dangled from the wall. The man had thinning hair, a narrow face, and marks on his nose where his spectacles once rested. Spicy hadn’t met him, but by Middle Finger’s description this was Blaylock, the foreman of the bomb makers. His eyes were locked open and stared at the ceiling. Spittle wetted the corners of his mouth. His body stank, as urine stained his wet trousers. Spicy felt his neck for a pulse. There was none.

  He backed out of the cell.

  Across the hall, the jail had a small office. The door creaked as Spicy pushed it, but there was no one inside. It held little more than a table with a burning lamp and a few chairs.

  From behind the next cell door, chains jingled.

  “Hey,” Alma called. “Anyone still there? Give me a break here. This has all been a bad mistake. Cut me loose, and I’ll make it worth your while. Those guys you caught me with had gold, and I can take you to find it.”

  Spicy tried the cell door but it was locked.

  Back inside the office, he discovered a set of keys hanging on a peg. He took them and found the one to her cell. But he paused.

  “Come on!” Alma urged. “Before the others come back. We can make a deal which will set you up for life.”

  “The book,” Spicy said. “You and Blaylock had his book with the bomb recipes.”

  There was a pause. “Who’s there? Do I know you?”

  “Tell me where the book is.”

  The sound of hoofbeats echoed from outside. Horses rode up to the front of the jail. A guard shouted and then men were running over. Spicy hurried to replace the keys.

  “Come back!” Alma cried. “Let me out!”

  Spicy saw shadows moving towards the front door of the jail. He found a space behind the door to the office and held his breath. A group of men entered. At least three, judging by the sounds of their boots, with others remaining outside. The coughing guard was one of them.

  A moment of silence followed, and then a soft voice spoke.

  “Send the doctor away. Blaylock’s dead and with him die his secrets.”

  “I’m sorry, my duke,” the guard with the cough said. “He kept begging for water and wouldn’t shut up. I barely touched him.”

  “Were my orders not explicit that he was to remain unharmed?”

  The guard didn’t answer.

  “Step outside, both of you, and leave me with the other prisoner.”

  “My duke,” the coughing man said.

  “My duke,” a second guard acknowledged.

  The guards footsteps could be heard exiting the jail.

  My duke? Spicy wasn’t sure how many dukes there were in the Bay Kingdom. According to Goldbug, Pinnacle had an archduke in charge of the city who held dominance over the others. Was that who was here?

  And now Spicy was stuck in the jailhouse with him.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The duke entered the office, almost pushing the door into Spicy. The man snatched the keys from the peg and left to open Alma’s cell.

  “Why is this unlocked?”

  A guard came back inside. “Sir? We had it all locked up.”

  The cell door grated open. “Does this look locked to you?”

  “No, my duke.”

  “Get out. We’ll revisit tonight’s blunders later. Send the doctor home. Have the men retire to the barracks. I’m not to be disturbed.”

  The guard moved off to relay the orders. The group outside departed.

  Spicy fought to control his breathing. Imagined he was hunting, that was all. Just him and his prey, where a hard breath would betray him. It didn’t do anything to calm him down.

  “This is all a mistake,” Alma said.

  The door to her cell creaked further open. Yellow light flickered as the duke took the lamp with him.

  Spicy crept from his hiding place to better hear.

  “A mistake?” the duke asked. “No, don’t say that. I don’t believe your budding enterprise was anything but deliberate.”

  “It’s Blaylock you want. I’m just hired muscle.”

  “My informants say you are anything but. If you were only a guard, I’d have no use for you. But you are much more than that. You’re one of the officers in Lord Root’s mercenary group.”

  A pause followed. Finally she answered. “Yes. He made me a lieutenant.”

  “Then you must have been made aware of his other activities which took him from my service. Tell me about that. Leave nothing out.”

  Alma let out a sigh. “We were cut off at North Fort. We were surrounded by zealots and their tribal allies. It was either make a break for it or get starved out.”

  “No, Alma. That’s the story Lord Root concocted to cover his planned departure. He had horses and boats ready. As a lieutenant, you couldn’t have been ignorant of these plans. And the fact that you’re here and he’s dead tells me you were integral to his entire operation. Now explain. No lies.”

  She let out a groan. “Just…give me a break with these chains. My arms are numb.”

  “You believe you’re uncomfortable now? Do you need further prompting to sharpen your memory? Now speak.”

  “We had to escape from the zealots. Sergeant Kel wouldn’t abandon the post.”

  “Stop!” Spicy heard the duke pacing. “Your desertion is documented. And it’s the one thing I don’t care about. Lord Root had a mission in mind. Start there.”

  “Lord—Lord Root—he wanted to catch a dragon. I thought he was crazy. But he kept talking about treasure, would go on about it to keep us motivated. We raided several goblin villages in the Monster Lands. They didn’t have much worth taking, but they did have books which their sages kept that led across the top of the sea into the mountains.”

  “And what did you find there?”

  Alma let out a mirthless laugh. “Lord found his dragon. It killed him. It killed most of the men and almost got me. But his bombs destroyed its lair. Me and a few others survived and tried to escape back home. The dragon followed. It wanted something to the south. I thought I could bargain with it. We took it with us from Eel Port down to the delta where it wanted to go. Is this really what you want to hear? Because it’s the truth.”

  “I’ll decide that. Go on.”

  “The dragon was sick. I made a deal to sell it to some delta pirates. But the pirates double-crossed me and cut a deal with some kind of dragon cult. They had their own dragon hidden in the swamp inside a cave. These are the people Blaylock worked for. I was taken prisoner, until I managed to escape.”

  “What happened with the dragons?”

  “I think they
tried to kill each other.”

  “Tried? They live?” the duke asked.

  “One was definitely dead. The other might be alive, but it was pretty messed up, even more than before. I didn’t wait around long enough to find out.”

  Silence followed, then more pacing.

  Alma cleared her throat. “Is that what you wanted to know? I can lead you back to the dragon. The dragon cult only has a few people who can fight, and not much in the way of equipment. That’s all that’s protecting it right now, besides a goblin.”

  When the duke didn’t respond, she continued.

  “I was just trying to make some coin.”

  “What was the dragon’s name?” the duke asked.

  “The goblin called it Fath.”

  “So the dragon shared its secrets with this goblin.”

  Spicy realized he was chewing his lip.

  “Yes. His name is Spicy. He had a few children from his village that were also with us. Is this important?”

  “It is. And I’ll deal with the goblins once I catch them. So tell me, where exactly is this place the dragon is hiding?”

  “Near a village in the delta called Bird’s Landing. You’ll need me to lead you there.”

  “I know Bird’s Landing. If you have anything else to share, this would be the time.”

  The chains shifted. “It’s everything I know. I don’t have anything else you could possibly want. Hey, wait! You need me!”

  The duke came out into the hallway and locked the cell door. Spicy ducked back behind the door as the man moved past the office and headed outside, taking the jangling keys with him.

  All the while, Alma kept calling for him to come back until finally she began muttering curses.

  Spicy peered out the front door and saw the duke striding away from the jail, walking with a distinct limp to his gait. There were no guards in view. But a quick search of the office yielded no other keys. He checked Alma’s cell door. The lock stared back at him.

  He tried his lockpicks. They barely fit, as the mechanism was tighter than the practice lock. He wiggled them about and thought the picks might break if he applied any more pressure. Then he got his trembling hands under control and tried again. The lock opened with a satisfying click.

  When he swung the cell door open, Alma raised her head in surprise. She was fastened to the wall of the dark cell with two short chains. Her eyes took a moment to focus. Then she got a good look at Spicy and started to laugh.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “So you going to unlock these chains or just stare?”

  Spicy had been staring. Here was Lord’s officer, the woman who had murdered many goblins and been instrumental in the destruction of his village, the last survivor of the mercenaries who had destroyed Fath’s home. He had a knife. She was helpless. Yet he didn’t know what to do.

  “The keys?” Alma prompted. “The lock’s not that complicated.”

  He felt himself breathing hard as his heart hammered in his chest. “No. I’m not here to free you.”

  “Then what? Come here to gloat? You want to get an apology from me for the hell we brought down on your people? Your choice. You probably have a minute or two before the archduke comes back.”

  So it was the archduke.

  “Where’s the recipe book the foreman had?” Spicy asked.

  “You know about that? You’re a real stick in the eye, aren’t you? I’ll give it to you. But if you want it, you’ll have to get me out. Better do it now.”

  “Blaylock is dead.”

  “Yeah, I figured that out. Might be what they do to me. But it sounds like they still need me to take them to the dragon. Bad luck for you, though. Because it means your little friends are going to be in trouble if they’re still there. If you hadn’t noticed, the archduke doesn’t play nice.”

  “Blades has the book, doesn’t he? He’s stumbling drunk. We saw him out on the street after you were arrested. I found you. I’ll find him too.”

  She tugged at one of the chains holding her to the wall. “I’m not dumb enough to trust him with anything. Get me out of here and it’s yours. With Blaylock gone, it’s useless. It’s full of notes only he could read.”

  “Promise me you’ll give me the book.”

  “What do you want, a spit and a shake? You have no reason to trust me. But the archduke wants a dragon, and I’m going to give him yours if it means saving my skin. I can see it in your face you don’t want me to do that.”

  Spicy knew of another way. It meant losing the book, but on any hunt, you learn to take the prey in your line of sight. With a thrust of his knife, he could take revenge and silence her forever.

  “Don’t make me regret this,” he said as he moved to unlock one of the manacles. Even in the poor light, it opened easily. “And remember—I know how to get out of this place.”

  With the second manacle free, Alma fell to the floor. She rubbed her wrists as she rose. Spicy led her to the front door of the jail, where they paused. The keep courtyard was quiet. Faint voices could be heard coming from the nearest building.

  Spicy led her around the opposite side of the barracks and they cut across the courtyard. They made it to the small drain without seeing anyone.

  “There’s no way I’m going to fit in there,” she hissed.

  She wasn’t large, but he realized he had barely squeezed through the tightest parts himself.

  Alma took a last look at the drain opening before scanning the wall above. “This is your plan?”

  “I wasn’t expecting to rescue you.”

  She began to feel along the wall, her fingers searching for a handhold. Spicy followed, but the inside of the keep’s walls were the same as the outside, with no easy purchase to allow climbing. They both stopped at the corner of one building as a group of guards appeared, heading for the jail. The archduke led them, walking with his limp.

  Alma and Spicy hurried further along the wall once the men were out of sight. They only had a moment before the guards found the empty cell. As they sneaked through the shadows, Spicy was impressed the woman could move so quietly. Past the barracks was one of the gatehouses. A thick door led inside but it was locked.

  “Do your thing,” Alma said.

  A shout rose from the jail. More voices followed from around them and above. As Goldbug had guessed, the keep had guards on its walls.

  “Tell me where the book is,” he said.

  “Get me out of here first.”

  “Tell me where it is, or we both get caught.”

  She sighed. “Fine. The archduke’s men took it. It was on me. Get mad at me later. But right now, they’re coming.”

  Spicy fumbled with the lockpicks. In the dark, getting them into the lock was proving a challenge. The face of the lock felt rusty. This time, the picks had too much room. Nothing inside the lock wanted to move.

  Alma kept her eyes fixed on the courtyard. Lights from lanterns were coming their direction from the nearest corners of the building. There was a windowsill above them. She pulled herself up. Spicy pocketed his lockpicks and moved below her. The bottom of the sill was just out of reach. Alma kept climbing, making it to the second-floor window.

  The guards were coming. The pool of shadows concealing him was about to vanish.

  He picked up a broken piece of mortar and threw it at the far wall. It clattered in the shadows. A guard appeared at the corner and rushed in that direction. But he had only bought seconds. He jumped and caught the bottom of the sill with his fingers. As he swung, he managed to pull himself high enough to catch the space between the bricks with the tip of his toe.

  Above him, Alma had made it to the roof of the building.

  Spicy found another handhold, and another, and managed to make a window ledge on the second floor. A guard passing below him stopped. Spicy pressed himself against the closed shutters. Sweat stung his eyes. The light of the guard’s lantern left him no place to hide.

  Then from above, someone cried, “Intruder!”


  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The shout from the wall above was echoed among the guards searching below.

  “Intruder in the Hall of Records!”

  More guards answered. Lantern lights shone from the wall. Surely these guards would have bows or crossbows. Spicy clung to his narrow ledge but knew he couldn’t stay there. From the roof just above, someone grunted in pain. A guard tumbled past Spicy and thudded on the cobblestones.

  Alma leaned down and offered a hand. Spicy hesitated only for a second before rising and taking it. She hauled him up and over the edge of the roof. A lamp lay broken on the rooftop, the fire still burning the spilled oil.

  “You’re heavy,” she gasped.

  A hatchway was open. From below came voices. Spicy ran to it in time to confront a guard who was climbing a ladder. The guard looked up with surprise on his face, but the expression quickly darkened.

  “Surrender and be shown mercy,” the man said as he ascended the final rungs.

  Spicy swung the hatchway shut. The man caught the door with one raised hand. Spicy pressed the door down, but the man was stronger. With a heave, the guard pushed the door open and stepped out onto the roof. He drew a long dagger from his belt.

  Alma charged him. She held a similar dagger, which must have been taken from the guard she had knocked over the edge. She also gripped one of the red capes in her opposite hand. With the cape, she slapped at him. The guard swatted at the fabric. The movement threw him off balance as she slashed at him, forcing him to fall back.

  Another guard appeared at the bottom of the ladder. He started to climb. Spicy closed the hatchway again but the guard started to push it open. Spicy leapt on top of the hatch, slamming the lid onto the guard.

  The guard fighting Alma rushed her with a series of lunges, backing her to the edge of the roof. While she still had the cape and managed to fend off his thrusts, he was tall and had a greater reach. She stabbed at him, but he was quick to dodge. She was limping now, favoring one leg.

  The hatch door bumped up, almost knocking Spicy off. He jumped down and lifted the lid. The guard almost made it up before Spicy smashed the lid back down onto his head with all his might. The guard grunted and fell down the ladder.