by Eric Flint
"All right, lean in behind me and take a look."
The warehouse was dimly lit by the lantern he held high and the sunlight trickling past them in the doorway. Adham could see bales of wool stacked to the roof on one side and crates stacked man-high on the other. In the open space between hung the thief-taker.
"He must have killed one." Adham shook his head. He heard the owner of the warehouse swallow nervously beside him.
The thief-taker dangled from a rafter, cocooned like a spider's meal. More of him was covered in rope than not. He was blindfolded and had something stuffed into his mouth. He responded to their entrance with a brief struggle, so there was some life left in him.
Adham listened for a few moments before stepping back outside and closing the door. "He seemed quite capable, did he?"
The owner, staring at the closed door, responded only with a faint whimper. Adham took him by the arm again and led him back to his men.
"How many goblins are there?" Adham addressed all of them. Their answers tripped over each other, but consensus seemed to be a dozen. "I see. That would make it . . . three to four goblins."
"What?" The owner had started to gather his wits. "You saw what they did to that man. How could four goblins do that?"
"Not four. Three, at most. He'd have to kill one before they'd do that to him."
"How could you possibly know that? And how could three knee-high goblins hoist a full-grown man into the air?"
"I doubt that would take more than two of them. It's difficult to explain." Adham scratched his chin. "But there's little goblins can't do when you're not looking. Look, you need a professional, which I happen to be. Eight silver marks and I'll make your problem go away. Deal or no?"
The gentleman opened his mouth to speak, closed it, gave his warehouse a very puzzled look, and opened his mouth again. This time he managed to say, "Okay."
Adham collected a few things off his mule, the last of which was a wooden chest that he tucked under one arm. He picked up the lantern, entered the warehouse, and closed both the door and his eyes. While waiting for his eyes to adjust, he listened for the scrabble of small, taloned feet around him. He heard nothing, but he could feel them watching him.
He opened his eyes, stepped over a crossbow and some bolts scattered on the floor, and walked toward the thief-taker. The man tried to say something, but the gag in his mouth turned it into a moan. The coils of rope were bound so tightly that his face was a deep red and he struggled to breathe. When Adham pulled the large wad of wool from the thief-taker's mouth, he gagged and coughed.
"Help me." The words rasped through a swollen throat.
Adham shook his head. "Next time, stick to thieves."
He set the chest down and cut the rope above the man's head. The thief-taker hit the floor with all the grace of a sack of potatoes. Still encased in rope, he could do little more than groan. Adham set about cutting him loose and heard whispering in the shadows to his left.
"Can you stand?" Adham asked, helping the man to his feet. The thief-taker swayed on his feet but nodded. "Good. Now get out of here, and take your crossbow with you."
The thief-taker didn't need to be told twice.
"And close the door behind you!" Adham called after him, an instruction the thief-taker carried out with enthusiasm.
"Amateurs." Adham kicked aside the pieces of rope with disgust and set the lantern on the floor by the chest. He pulled a heavy sack out of a large coat pocket, turned the sack inside-out to show his audience it was empty, and tossed it to the floor. The stage set, he sat down cross-legged with his back to the chest.
The goblins were also behind him.
Patience is a goblin hunter's friend, but not the kind of patience used for waiting. The ability of goblins to frustrate all those they come in contact with requires great perseverance, like a mother with a houseful of children on a rainy day. Waiting, however, is rarely necessary.
"What's this?" asked a small, squeaky voice.
Adham glanced over his shoulder, as if to see what the goblin was talking about.
"That's an empty chest. Here, let me show you." He turned at the waist, flipped open the clasp, lifted the lid, and held up the lantern so the goblin could peer inside. And peer the little creature did, standing on its tiptoes so it could lean way over the lip of the chest.
Goblins come in a variety of colors, shapes, and assorted ugly attributes. This one had mottled green skin and tiny, human-like ears that were set too high on its head. Finding nothing in the chest, it looked up at Adham with bulging eyes and blinked in confusion.
"See? Empty."
"I don't get it," the goblin said, obviously disappointed. "Why'd you lug it in here?"
"It's a goblin trap."
"A what?"
"A goblin trap. Look, it says so right here." Adham pointed to the letters he had carved into the front of the chest years ago. "G-o-b-l-i-n t-r-a-p. Goblin trap. It's a goblin trap."
The goblin's eyes narrowed in suspicion. It walked around the chest, inspecting it, and shook its head. "You're talking nonsense," it said, setting its little hands on its hips. "If it's a trap, how's it work? It's got no spring or snare or anything. It's just a box with a lid. Is it magical or somet'ing?"
"Nope, no magic, but it's not set yet." Adham dug into a coat pocket and pulled out a large padlock. He threaded the arm of the padlock through the clasp on the chest and clicked it shut.
"There." He yanked on the lock. "Now it's set and ready to go." He sat forward, making a show of ignoring both the chest and goblin behind him.
"What? What do you mean it's ready to go. You think a locked chest is going to catch a goblin? That'll never work. It's insulting. I mean, look at this . . ."
While metal rattled, Adham silently counted, "Three, two, one . . ."
Click.
No matter how many times he heard that sound, it saddened him. Only goblins were cunning enough to do something so impossibly moronic. Still, he waited to make sure.
"Okay . . ." The tiny voice was muffled. "Okay, that . . . that was funny. Joke's on me. Ha, ha. Now, let me out'a here!"
The chest started shaking. "Come on! Let me out! If you don't let me out I'll . . . I'll . . . I'll spit!"
Adham stood and strolled away from the chest with an air of indifference, pulling a fist-sized bag of sand from a coat pocket. He whistled while tossing it from hand to hand. When the chest stopped moving, he stopped whistling, and at the sound of the lock rattling, he turned and threw.
Another goblin, taller than the first and bluish, turned from examining the lock. The sandbag took it in the midsection and slammed it into the chest. Adham pounced on the goblin and stuffed it into the sack and tied the top into a knot. He heard a struggling, shrill wheeze as the goblin tried to catch its breath.
"Sorry, little fella, but I know what you're capable of." Adham pocketed the sandbag and tucked the chest under one arm. "Don't you two worry. I'm a law-abiding hunter."
Adham stepped out of the warehouse and into a small mob of people demanding to know what had happened. "Relax, it's over. Everything is fine. There were only two of the little buggers." He strode to his mule. "Here, Maible, hold this." He held out the sack, and the mule took the knot in her mouth. Adham set about tying the chest on top of the pack. "Mister, I believe you owe me eight silver marks. I put off a long-awaited beer to help you out, so prompt payment is appreciated."
The owner of the warehouse looked skeptical. "How do I know you're done? Show me the goblins."
"I am sorry, sir, but that is not possible. It would be a bad idea to take them inside just to have a peek, and out here the bright sunlight would kill them. If you want to know why killing them is a bad idea, I suggest you ask your friend the thief-taker. Assuming you can catch him.
"Now then, the king's law says goblins are to be delivered to the nearest wizard's tower. I need my chest back, so I'll take care of that for you. But I do need payment before I go."
When the owner s
eemed on the verge of replying in a manner that didn't involve reaching for his purse, Adham added, "Unless you'd like me to put the little devils back. They were in a good mood last time. Now, they're not."
* * *
Adham leaned back in a chair, his feet propped up on a table. Since finishing his business at the wizard's tower, he had visited a bathhouse, eaten a hot meal, and was finally enjoying a cool beer. All in all, it had been a good day.
"Perhaps too good," he thought as a shadow fell across him.
"Are you the goblin hunter?"
Adham took the time to sigh before looking up at the speaker. "And you are?"
"My name is Mooney. I heard about your doings at the warehouse today, and I have a proposition for you."
"Thank you, but my day is done. My tomorrow's done as well. Possibly even the day after that."
"Hear me out, and I'll buy your next beer. Help me out, and I will make it very worth your while." When Adham didn't respond, Mooney leaned closer. "Very."
Adham lowered his feet to the floor and offered the man a chair.
"I am assuming," Mooney began, "that one in your profession knows the trails through the Goblin Hills." Adham nodded. "Excellent. I have a cargo that needs to reach Seabay, and time is a critical factor—too much so to take the road around the hills."
"You can't take carts through the Goblin Hills." Adham sighed.
"I was told you'd sigh. Anyway, the cargo is very small. A pack animal could carry it."
"Then get a wizard to send it."
"Unfortunately, magic cannot be used with this cargo," Mooney said.
Adham rolled his eyes. "Why don't you just say it's quicksilver and be done with it?"
Mooney glared a moment before continuing. "I am prepared to send a dozen of my men, all quite capable, and I would like you to guide them."
"Quite capable? Mister, there's a reason the road to Seabay goes around those hills. If you send a dozen men in there, a half-dozen might make it out the other side, and they will not have your cargo."
"What do you suggest?"
Adham started to sigh, but stopped himself when Mooney gave him an expectant smile. "If you give me your cargo, I should be able to get it to Seabay in four days."
Mooney fixed him with an unpleasant gaze. "Needless to say, this cargo is very precious to me. Handing it over to you alone is not an option."
After an uncomfortable silence, Adham said, "Well, I thank you for the beer—"
Mooney cut him off. "How about this? I'll send along my best man, and only my best man. You get the cargo to Seabay within four days, and my partner there will pay you three hundred silver marks."
Adham froze, the beer halfway to his lips.
* * *
Adham was preparing his horse and mule in the stable when Mooney arrived the next morning.
"This is Ualtar." Mooney didn't waste time with small talk.
Adham nodded his greeting and looked the man over. He appeared to be every bit a warrior. "Ualtar, if you find that armor comfortable, you're welcome to wear it, but the spear and your sword are staying here. You kill a goblin, and this'll be a very short trip with a very bad ending."
Ualtar looked to Mooney for approval before setting aside his weapons.
Adham continued, "Your horses, do they have to be tied up at night?"
"Yes."
"Then I suggest you bring something to hobble them. Otherwise, goblins will probably steal them." Ualtar furrowed his brow, and Adham noted the well-worn crease in it. "If you tie them up, you're telling the goblins that they can't take the horses, so they will. If you let them stand free, goblins usually leave them alone. Likewise, be prepared to unpack your saddlebags every night so nothing is hidden. That includes the quicksilver. We'll set it in a pile of loose gear when we camp and leave some other things to distract the goblins."
This time Ualtar both looked to Mooney and furrowed his brow.
"Impressive," Adham thought, managing not to sigh. "Very impressive."
* * *
Midmorning on the second day, Adham set a brisk pace into the hills, stopping only to rest their animals by a stream and fill some sacks with sand. For the most part he followed game trails, as few humans traveled through these hills. With dusk still an hour away, he stopped near a grove of oak trees and called a halt.
"Why stop so early?" Ualtar asked. "We could make another league before it gets dark."
"By dusk we will be watched. We need to prepare our camp in private if we want to use goblin curiosity to our advantage."
Ualtar furrowed his brow but set about unloading the horses. Adham gathered a large supply of deadwood for a fire. The nights were still pleasant, and their cooking gear was meant to be stolen, not used, but he suspected they would need the light.
"Ualtar, help me with these sandbags. We need to hang them far enough off the ground to make them interesting."
"I was wondering what those were for."
"We'll use the two smaller ones for pillows. If we lay on them, the goblins will assume we don't want them taken . . ."
". . . So they will." Ualtar finished, surprising Adham with a chuckle. "Do you always have to do the opposite of what you want?"
Adham considered how to explain. "Goblins are like no other creature. To them, doing the impossible is like breathing to you and me, provided it is done to satisfy their curiosity or cause some mischief. That's their weakness, and how I usually catch them. Curiosity gets them into my trap, and as long as I don't give their curiosity a reason to get out, they stay trapped."
"So we give them some things to be curious about while leaving the quicksilver out in the open." Ualtar nodded. "What do we do if they wake us up?"
Adham shrugged. "Chase them around a little. Maybe try to keep a bag of sand from them. But do not show any interest in the quicksilver, even if they take it, and do not kill them."
"Seems to me killing one or two would make the rest think twice about harassing us."
"Listen to me." Adham stopped his work and looked Ualtar straight in the eye. "You look very imposing, and I have no doubt that you're dangerous, but the impossible is what goblins do. You do not want to make this a lethal contest. Understood?"
"Understood," he said gravely enough to satisfy Adham.
* * *
When his head tapped the ground, Adham woke fully aware of what was upon them. "Ualtar! Protect the bags!"
Ualtar rose with a roar and started chasing a goblin that had been stalking his pillow.
The fire still burned but didn't offer much light. Adham scooped up a large pile of dry pine branches and threw them onto the fire. As the flames leaped higher, he saw a sandbag fall from the tree. Despite being much smaller than the bag, a tiny goblin waited for it with outstretched arms. The impact appeared to flatten the creature, completely eclipsing it. Yet it began to move, slowly, haltingly, away from the fire.
"Oh, no you don't!" Adham hefted the bag off the goblin. The goblin turned its head, perhaps hopeful that it hadn't been discovered. Seeing Adham's glare, it gave him an innocent smile, and bolted.
Adham heard a rope break overhead. Even though he had been expecting it, he leapt aside just in time to avoid being brained by another sandbag. He looked up and saw a goblin jump to a third bag and start ripping through the individual fibers on the rope holding it in place.
"Ualtar, stop that goblin!"
Ualtar paused in his pursuit and looked to where Adham pointed. In one smooth, practiced motion, he drew his knife and threw it underhand.
Adham watched the knife spin through the air. It took an eternity to reach its target, which gave him time to consider what he had done. His command had been for the goblins to hear, but he had uttered it without consideration for Ualter's training and reflexes. In the midst of battle, the warrior had heard an order and acted. Adham should have expected no less.
Their lives were about to become . . . unpleasant.
The blade skewered the goblin and pinned it
to the tree. There was no doubting the lethality of the throw. Where moments before there had been chaos, all was now silent. After staring at the dead goblin for a moment, Ualtar looked at Adham, raised his eyebrows, and shrugged.
* * *
The goblin on the branch before Adham looked disappointed. "A beer? Them's your final words?"
Adham reconsidered. "I do have a last request." He had an impossible idea, but the impossible was what goblins did.
The goblin's pointed ears cocked forward. "Yeah?"