Goblin Rogue

by Gerhard Gehrke

  It was Juna who spoke with the other villagers. It was a brief speech, and Spicy couldn’t follow the words. Judging by the expressions among the men and women listening, not everyone was convinced. Sharp words were exchanged.

  Some left quickly, heading out in a hurry. Spicy felt a growing dread as more followed.

  But twenty of the Bird’s Landing residents remained. These collected daggers, swords, and spears from the bounty captured from the soldiers.

  A collection of older men and women stood apart from these. Anger was on many faces. More than a few kissed glyphs set on pendants. One mother with several children and tattoos on her chin shook her head in disgust.

  Spicy cleared his throat. “We don’t expect to stop the archduke for long. Those not coming need to get out of Bird’s Landing. The sons are trackers, just like dogs. You can expect no mercy from them. They showed none to your neighbors at the mud village. Those that they captured they butchered.”

  His speech over, he knew there was no more time for words. He understood all too well what these people were feeling. He wondered if Captain Breaker was afraid. If he was, he hid it well. They would be facing not only more armed red capes but two more of the archduke’s sons.

  How he wished Rime were around to argue with him, to be the voice to tell him there was a more sensible option, that this wasn’t his fight.

  Take the children and leave, he could hear Rime say.

  Dill was brave and the strongest of the children. But if Spicy died, they stood little chance at survival. What he was about to do was not only foolish but selfish. Fath would live as a captive. The archduke took him alive for a reason.

  Where had this side of him been when he had cowered as Boarhead fell to Lord and his mercenaries?

  “Daylight’s burning and I’m not sticking around after the sun sets,” Captain Breaker said.

  He marched off towards his boat. The twenty residents of Bird’s Landing followed Juna as she led them.

  Goldbug had come up beside Spicy and he bumped his shoulder with his fist. “They’ll need their luck charm.”

  “He’s broken. You didn’t see what the archduke did in the village.”

  “But they believe in you, whatever your plan is. I do.”

  “No, you don’t. That’s just dumb. You shouldn’t go, Goldbug. You’re still not well.”

  The young pirate coughed. “You talked my mother into going. It’s not like I can stay behind now.”

  “Wait, one of those women is your mother?”

  “They all are.”

  Chapter Forty

  With the overcast sky, it was hard to tell how much daylight they’d have. The Wind Bonnet crew had secured the Hammertide and towed it along with them as they rowed. The captured crew were still on board, secured and under guard.

  “Soldiers are a dime a dozen,” Breaker said to Spicy, “but trained sailors are worth a tencoin or two.”

  A lookout called an alarm. A rowboat was coming their way. Four of the archduke’s men were on board. One stood and waved his arms as the Wind Bonnet coasted towards them. Six pirate archers rose from the Wind Bonnet and cut loose with a volley.

  Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

  A pirate jumped to the rowboat to slit the dying soldiers’ throats. He then pulled the arrows free and took a moment to plunder the corpses as the crew, the captain, and the volunteers from Bird’s Landing watched.

  “We’re committed now,” Breaker said.

  The pirate swam back to the Wind Bonnet. The rowboat along with its dead drifted off into the main channel.

  They had rounded the bend towards the mud village when Breaker ordered his rowers to head towards shore. They put into the muddy bank and lashed a rope around a tree. Spicy and Goldbug got off.

  “Fifteen minutes,” Spicy said. “Give us fifteen, then come in.”

  Captain Breaker leaned on the rail. “We’re just making noise and shooting arrows. We’re not going toe to toe with the red capes or the archduke’s sons.”

  “I know.”

  “And I’m not Middle Finger. If you’re dumb enough to get caught, I’m not coming to rescue you.”

  “We know you’re no Middle Finger,” Goldbug said with a wicked grin. “I’m sure your men know that too.”

  Captain Breaker scowled. “Get going.”

  Spicy led Goldbug over the slope of a hill where they had plenty of cover and down to the water of the inlet that led to the mud village. They swam across the water to get onto the opposite bank. Once there, they reapplied their mud. They could now approach the Cormorant with the greatest chance of not being seen.

  Even though it wasn’t dark, the archduke’s ship had burning lanterns set out on its bow and stern. A few men were visible on the boat, but most appeared to be on shore.

  They were digging.

  Around the closest hovels the sailors and red capes had made a dozen holes in the soil and mud. Did the archduke have a lead on where something was hidden or had he given in to desperation? Spicy had the books the archduke wanted. What else was there to find? Had the poor tortured souls given up some other prize?

  As they crept closer, Spicy saw a new stack of small crates collected near the dock. A sailor was bringing them on board. The archduke had discovered something. Spicy felt a growing unease as he guessed what might be in the boxes.

  They could see one of the sons lingering near the tortured prisoners. Spicy studied the boat and the village. The second son was nowhere to be seen, but much of the village was obscured from sight. No doubt the search included the dragon cave. Spicy suspected the archduke himself remained on board the Cormorant since he had collapsed.

  Had Rime’s body been taken off the boat?

  It didn’t matter, he reminded himself. He needed to board it and find a way to free Fath.

  To get to the boat, they would have to wade through water and swim. They’d lose much of their mud. Spicy could only hope with so many sailors and red capes that the sons would miss their scent.

  Spicy went first. The port side of the Cormorant faced them. He immediately realized there were no convenient ropes that could be climbed. The boat’s hull and side were slick. The spaces between the boards didn’t even offer a fingerhold. The rear of the boat sloped up and out of reach.

  Goldbug swam past Spicy and grabbed the edge of the floating dock. He pulled himself up and lay flat while waiting for Spicy to follow. There was little cover as Spicy climbed from the water next to him.

  One pair of digging sailors was in plain view. All the men had to do was turn around and they would be seen. From above on the Cormorant, they heard footsteps as well as the sound of something heavy being moved across the deck.

  An aft cabin window lay just out of reach. The archduke’s quarters were on the forward part of the ship.

  Spicy boosted Goldbug up. The young pirate stepped on his shoulders and Spicy almost grunted with the effort. With a scraping sound, Goldbug pried at the window and pushed it in. It was a tight fit but Goldbug wriggled inside. After a long moment, he popped his head out and offered a hand.

  Spicy jumped and grabbed the hand and pulled himself up. He crawled through the tight window and for one panicked moment thought he couldn’t get his hips through. But Goldbug pulled at his arms and shoulders and finally he tumbled inside the cabin.

  They both froze, waiting and watching.

  Sounds of work continued out on the deck. The cabin had little light but for what came in through the small windows. The room was jammed with equipment and supplies. Hammocks were strung between posts. Various belongings were stuffed into bags hanging on pegs. A brass pot full of stinking urine stood against a wall near the door.

  Something raced towards Spicy. He almost cried out as a calico cat darted past and found refuge in a new dark corner. The cat’s eyes burned amber.

  A bell began to ring. Muffled voices shouted orders. But no one came to the cabin door. Other men called out from the shore and the village. The Wind Bonnet must have
appeared.

  Spicy went to the door and opened it a crack. He would have to make his way past the sailors to get to the main hold where Fath was being held. Goldbug lined up behind him in a crouch.

  “You’ll wait here until I get Fath free,” Spicy said.

  “I didn’t come just to sit this out. You sure you can do the locks?”

  Spicy didn’t answer.

  A pair of sailors rushed by with quivers of arrows. The main deck had a few others hurrying back and forth fetching weapons. Then the archduke emerged from the forward cabin. He moved with a hobble and appeared to be in pain. He used the side rail for support and came rearwards. Spicy closed the door and waited, listening as the archduke’s footsteps came closer and then went up the stairs to the aft deck.

  “It’s the Wind Bonnet, sir,” a sailor reported.

  “I gave no order for them to come here,” the archduke said. “What is that pirate doing?”

  “He’s almost in range, sir,” a soldier replied. “Are they attacking? Do we prepare fire?”

  “They’re up to something. But they’re also heaving to.”

  Two men remained just outside the door. Both were focused on what was going on in the inlet, but they’d notice if Spicy emerged.

  “Archers!” a sailor shouted. “Take cover!”

  The thunks of impacting arrows echoed through the hold. A man above screamed in pain.

  “Well, start shooting back,” the archduke said. “Curse that man. I want Captain Breaker’s head. Signal the troops on shore. Where are my sons?”

  A series of signal whistles followed. Then more arrows struck the Cormorant. Spicy cracked the door. Two sailors were in view and keeping their heads down. Spicy prepared to break cover. They would see him, so he would have to be quick.

  Goldbug had gone back to the porthole and was looking outside. “Uh-oh. Someone is climbing off Breaker’s boat. It’s Juna. They’ll be killed.”

  “We can’t worry about that now. Goldbug, come on.”

  Spicy paused as a group of six soldiers and sailors moved over the side and climbed off the Cormorant. Once they were out of sight, he slipped through the doorway. As Goldbug followed, his toe caught the brass piss pot. It skittered past him and clattered loudly, spilling urine out onto the deck.

  A sailor taking cover near the mast looked straight at them.

  For a heartbeat, the goblin froze. But then he dashed forward, even as more arrows fired from the Wind Bonnet landed in the deck before him. He kept his head down and his hands over his head as if to ward off any incoming missiles.

  A massive cover had been slid over the center hold. A series of thick iron pins held it in place. Spicy began to pull the pins out, one at a time.

  “Boarders! We have boarders!” the sailor cried. But the man appeared content to remain behind cover and he held no weapons.

  Each pin had to be wiggled about before it could be removed. Each took too many precious seconds as the next lethal volley threatened to come raining down.

  Spicy had taken half the pins out when one of the archduke’s sons landed on the wooden cover next to him. He had an arrow in his left forearm but didn’t appear bothered by it. He held a thick bow in his hands. Before Spicy could move, the son swung the bow like a club and smashed him across the head, knocking him down.

  As he lay prone on the deck, blinking and dazed, Spicy saw Goldbug pick up a crate from the spoils taken from the village. He flung it with both hands and struck the son. The lid popped off as the crate tumbled down. Sawdust and straw scattered everywhere. Six lumpy white cubes spilled onto the deck.

  One rolled to Spicy’s feet. He grabbed it and saw it was a bomb with no fuse. It had the unmistakable sharp chemical reek. This bomb smelled even worse than the one the children had uncovered, as if the ones from this crate had somehow aged and the chemicals they were made from had rotted.

  He stuffed the bomb into a pocket.

  The son punted the crate aside. As he closed in with Goldbug, he tossed the bow away and pulled a dagger from his hip.

  Goldbug grabbed a gaffing hook and swung it, driving the son back. But the son wore a dull expression. No fear showed in his eyes. He swatted at the hook as if to grab it, only to have the hook skewer his hand through the palm. The son just stared at the pierced flesh before yanking at it to free himself, almost pulling the pole away from Goldbug.

  With all his might, Goldbug turned the gaffing pole and swung the attached son around so that he was between him and a group of armed sailors watching from the aft deck.

  Spicy continued to fumble with more of the pins and was working out another two when an arrow smacked into the hold cover, forcing him to duck. But the arrow had come from a nearby archer, not the Wind Bonnet. The red cape was preparing another arrow.

  Meanwhile, the archduke was giving orders: “Target the men on their rigging.” The other sailors and red capes began firing arrows at the Wind Bonnet.

  “Hurry!” Goldbug urged.

  “I need one more minute!”

  Three pins to go. Head down, Spicy pushed another out. The red cape flinched and hesitated for a moment as an incoming arrow struck the deck near him. But he got his own arrow nocked and prepared to fire.

  Goldbug shoved the son towards the archer, blocking the red cape’s shot. He released the hook and began picking up the spilled bombs and throwing them like rocks. Ignoring the pelting missiles, the son removed the hook and tossed it aside.

  The archer paused and shouted back to the archduke. “Sir, we have boarders!”

  Spicy didn’t look to see if the archduke had heard. He kept his head low and took out the next pin. But the last one was stuck. He pushed at it, tried to twist it, but it refused to budge. The lid couldn’t be lifted with it in place.

  Goldbug had picked up another crate and swung it as he fought to stay out of striking distance of the son’s dagger. With a sudden lunge, he sprang at Goldbug, stabbing with his knife and smacking the crate away. Goldbug stumbled and fell, a long cut on his thigh bleeding.

  He was defenseless.

  “Hey!” Spicy shouted, getting the son’s attention. “Just so you know, we killed your brother in Bird’s Landing. We stabbed him and burned him. He’s never coming back.”

  The son stared blankly at Spicy. Whether he understood the words wasn’t clear. He adjusted his grip on his dagger and advanced on Goldbug. But Goldbug was staggering away towards the forward cabin. He was just about to make the door when the archer changed targets and fired.

  The arrow caught Goldbug in the shoulder and he collapsed. But the pirate kept crawling away.

  The archer’s shot was once again blocked as the son advanced on Goldbug. Spicy only had a moment before his friend would be gone and it would be his turn.

  He whispered an apology.

  Bracing his legs on the deck, he pushed at the hold cover. It shifted ever so slightly. He gripped the pin and slid it out. Then he heaved the cover forward just enough to be able to slip through. He didn’t hesitate as he shoved his head into the hold and wriggled through the space. Letting go of the edge, he dropped into darkness.

  Chapter Forty-One

  He had hoped whatever stowed cargo was in there or even Fath’s body would break his fall, but he landed on hard wood that knocked his breath from his lungs. It took a frantic few seconds to recover. Enough light streamed in from above that he could see Fath’s long body against the hold’s forward wall where it was secured in chains.

  “Fath? It’s me. Are you awake?”

  The dragon didn’t answer. At first, Spicy didn’t think he was even breathing. But then he saw Fath’s chest expand and contract. Spicy moved to examine the chains. The sailors had expertly secured the creature with hoists and pulleys. The chains themselves all came together at a pair of large padlocks.

  Spicy knew how to pick locks.

  “I’m getting you out. Fath, you have to wake up. We don’t have time.”

  He plunged his picks into the first loc
k. The lock was spacious. The picks easily found the pins within. But then nothing. No click. It wouldn’t open. He pulled the picks out and reinserted them. After wiggling them, the lock should have opened, but it wouldn’t budge. Something within the mechanism was preventing the picks from moving the pins.

  The complicated locks you leave, Goldbug had told him.

  His hands were sweating. The picks began to slip as he frantically tried to force the lock. He thought his picks would bend, but at that point he no longer cared.

  From above, the lid to the hold was pulled away, throwing light into the hold. The archduke’s son looked down at him. The archer stood at his side.

  There was little cover within the hold. He was an animal in a pit trap waiting to be murdered.

  As his hands relaxed he felt something within the bottom of the lock shift. He twisted one pick in the opposite direction and found a single pin that clicked. Without hesitating, he worked the top pins and the lock opened.

  Whatever added measure the locks held needed only an extra move to open.

  He unclipped the lock from the chain and dropped it even as the archer aimed an arrow in his direction. The son placed a hand on the archer. The bow was lowered. No doubt they didn’t want to hit their precious cargo.

  Dropping down, the son landed in the hold. The arrow in his arm had been torn free. Only a tiny trickle of blood ran along his wrist and hand. And where the hook had skewered him, the wound didn’t bleed at all.

  “What are you?”

  The son just stared at him as Spicy grabbed the second lock. He tried to keep his trembling hands still enough to insert the picks. The dragon was sleeping through all of it. Using the same technique, he opened the lock.

  The son moved forward at an awkward gait, only half looking at Spicy as if distracted by something. But the blade in his hand was poised to strike. Spicy pitched the padlock at the son. It struck him on the head and bounced into the dark. He barely seemed to notice. As the son closed in, Spicy yanked a length of chain down off a pulley and clambered up the dragon. He stood on Fath’s head but had nowhere further to climb. He could feel the dragon breathing beneath him, the scratchy air wheezing in Fath’s nostrils.