by Jenna Grey
“When the Hobgoblin King hears about this ‒ when the rest of the hobs hear about it ‒ there is going to be mayhem. I think that we must tell the King to bring all of the hobs into the city, for their own protection,” Connor said, bending down and picking up a snow laden rag doll, shaking it clean. He just stared down at it, then looked across at the small mound of white that covered its former owner, blinded by his tears.
Lily stood up and took the doll from him, placing it down beside the little mound.
“We can’t let this break us, Connor. We have to stay strong.”
Connor smeared the tears from his face.
“Of course we must stay strong. We have to get everyone into Tunneltown as fast as we can.”
“Are you really sure that’s the best thing to do? I mean is there no alternative? You’re talking about a siege, Connor. As soon as Grendel pulls everyone inside, Ahriman’s army will surround it and just wait until they run out of food and water. They’ll face death by starvation and disease, or a terrible death by enemy hands.”
“I know, but it will buy us time to find Ahriman and get the ring. If they don’t take shelter, then they’ll all be dead long before we can track him down.”
He was right of course. It was the only sensible thing to do.
“What do we do with these bodies?” Lily asked. “We can’t leave them here for wild animals to eat.”
Connor looked across at a cluster of bodies, lying spread-eagled in the snow, rapidly disappearing under a pall of white.
“We don’t have any choice. We can’t bury this many,” he said, but there was a catch in his voice and the last word came out as a sob.
“Could we burn them?”
A quick shake of the head.
“No, that would be worse than animals eating them. Hobgoblins believe in going back to the earth they sprang from, they hate cremation.”
“Then we leave them?” Lily asked, horrified.
“We leave them.”
It was almost night fall when they reached Tunneltown, the moon already bright in the darkening sky, even before the less than comforting sun had disappeared below the horizon. They caught first sight of it from the top of the escarpment leading down into the rocky valley. The pass into the valley was wide and would have been no real barrier to any invading army, but it was surrounded by steep cliffs on all sides, which gave it some protection. There was the ruins of what must have been a fairly substantial ancient city, strewn around the place: fallen statues of long dead fey gods and goddesses, kings and queen’s lying in broken ruin under the snow. Faces protruded here and there from their snowy beds, human looking faces, perhaps even descendants of the Tuatha Dé Danaan. Moving to and fro through that pass were what looked like an army of ants, marching backwards and forwards, just little dots of black against the stark white ground beneath them.
“So many people. I thought that the gates would be locked and the place relatively deserted at this time of the day.”
“Tunneltown never sleeps, there’s something going on there day and night. Some of them will camp outside the city, because there’s not enough room for them inside.”
“But if that’s the case, how will they fit more people inside to keep them safe?”
“Oh, there’s plenty of tunnel space in there, just not proper accommodation. They’re going to have to make do as best they can. They can set up make shift camps inside.”
The city, for city it was, was cut deep into the side of the rock face, a vast network of caves that went for miles beneath the mountain and which meandered off in every direction, ready to lead the unsuspecting wanderer to their doom. Once it might well have just been a small town, hidden insight the mountain, but it had grown over the years and now held thousands of permanent residents as well as passing trade. Lily had heard tell of it, but not much more, because her education had been rather a sorry one when it came to learning about the geography of her world. The tunnel system had originally been dwarf mines, but they had long ago been mined out, and the dwarves had moved on to more productive digs. The hobgoblins had moved in and created a vast town, a city really, built in the disused tunnels. The residents weren’t just confined to hobgoblins ‒ there were many of the more sociable few races there, faeries, gnomes, dwarfs, pookas… although most gave them a wide berth as they were notoriously mischievous; not all of the goblin races were hostile ‒ just most of them.
They made their way down into the pass, and Connor climbed down from Gertrude to lead her slowly towards the gate, mingling with the crowds. Sure enough they passed small encampments as they got closer, clusters of tents camped around huge camp fires, with hobs and various life forms huddled around them warming themselves. Will o’ the wisps flittered around them like fireflies. Most of them had stew pots bubbling on them, or spits with unidentifiable chunks of meat roasting on them. Here and there were sleighs of all shapes and sizes, and some of these had cabins built onto the back, making them look like caravans, but instead of wheels they had runners underneath. They were brightly painted with all kinds of decoration, and festooned with coloured lanterns, giving the whole place a carnival atmosphere. Connor and Lily were regarded by some with measured caution as they passed; not used to seeing such High She visiting the city. There was no doubt they could see Connor and Lily’s pedigree; the High She had a faint glow about them, which other few folk didn’t have. Their eyes were always bright and clear, their skin perfect and unblemished, and there was something about them which was unmistakably different.
Lily ignored their stares, and stayed safely seated high above the crowd, safe on Gertrude’s back. Connor was trying to keep the poor animal under control amidst the gaggle of feyfolk that were all trying to get to the gate first. It was a jostling madness of fey, parcels, animals and sundry items, making so much of a din that Lily could hardly hear Connor’s thoughts above the cacophony. There was a huge amount of activity feyfolk of every kind, loaded down with parcels, boxes, sacks and… various forms of wildlife. There were chickens clutched tightly under arms, cages full of pigeons and other birds that Lily had never seen before. Hobgoblins herded pigs and sheep, geese and cows towards the gates, and camelaks, laden with produce ambled their way through the great gates.
Lily tumbled down from Gertrude as well and slipped her hand into his.
“I didn’t expect it to be this crazy,” Lily shouted. “Is it always like this?”
“I think that we’ve ended up here on market day,” Connor shouted back. “It’s not going to make it any easier.”
“Surely word will have reached them that there are goblins running riot in the countryside?” Lily asked.
“Perhaps not, we might have been unlucky enough to run into the first of their war parties. These people don’t seem to know that there’s anything wrong. The city’s always being hit by small goblin raiding parties ‒ if they had heard anything, they’ll probably just put it down to that.”
They were almost at the gate now, a massive wooden structure, large enough to allow an elephant to pass through, but set in it was a smaller wicket gate, through which most were passing. Each tree trunk that made up the barrier was as wide around as a troll’s waist, fastened together with great metal bars that had been driven into the wood with huge metal stakes. Lily thought they might have problems getting Gertrude’s considerable bulk through the smaller wicket gate, dragging poor Mawgum’s body behind it.
“It’s pretty impressive,” Lily said. “I was expecting a little hole in the side of the mountain.”
She craned her neck and looked up to the height of the gates, and saw that there were armed lookouts posted all along the top, all hobs, armed to the teeth with crossbows and spears.
“It’s fortified because in the past there were battles for control, goblins trying to take the city for themselves, using trolls to break down the gates with battering rams. It’s built to be troll proof, but I wouldn’t like to test it.”
Lily thought that it would have
to be a pretty tough troll to get through it.
“Have you thought of what we’re going to say to them? I mean, we can’t just walk up and ask to see the King… can we?” she asked.
She stood on tiptoe and could just about see the entrance to the gate now, along with the two unusually large hobgoblins on either side of it. Lily was certain they must have had troll blood in them, because they were even larger than Mawgum, and twice as wide around the middle. They were routinely plucking hobgoblins up by the scruff of the neck, and tossing them aside as if they were discarded corn husks.
“I think when they hear what’s happening, they’ll do whatever we say,” Connor said, but not without giving the guards a wary glance.
“It looks as if they’re a bit particular about who they let in,” Lily said, wincing as one hobgoblin hit the floor, bounced and careered into a camelak’s leg, receiving a vicious kick to add to his other bruises.
They were almost at the gate now, and Lily felt her heart tripping. She had no idea what to say to the gatekeepers that would persuade them to let them through, she only hoped that Connor did.
Connor pulled Gertrude up, and the massive hobgoblin who was roughly the same height as the camelak, peered down at Connor through one squinting eye. Where the other eye should have been was a great mound of scarred flesh, the scar running right down his face from temple to jowl.
“We’re here on official court business,” Connor said, doing his best to stare the hobgoblin in the eye, straining his neck to do it.
“Oh, and what might that be?” The hobgoblin asked, eyeing Connor, Lily, Gertrude and the tarpaulin covered mound that was Mawgum’s body, with one-eyed disdain.
“That’s our business. I suggest you mind yours,” Connor said, in a voice that rang loud and clear even above the cacophony around them. He pulled back his shoulders, refusing to look away from the intense scrutiny of the behemoth in front of him and in that instant Lily saw a king.
The hobgoblin didn’t seem to be sure how to respond to that, the choice being whether to toss Connor up in the air or try and think of an answer. He scratched his bowling ball head thoughtfully for a moment, and looked Connor and Lily up and down again, taking in their clothing and obviously realising that they were fey of some importance. Around them the mayhem continued, the other gatekeeper continuing to question and toss, with what seemed like arbitrary determination.
Finally the juggernaut in front of them said:
“I’m a town ossifer what’s got the authority to question anyone wantin’ to come in through them gates as ter what their business is here,” he said, trying to sound imperious and failing miserably.
Lily could feel Connor’s muscles tense, as his arm pressed against hers. He was calling magic, and she braced herself for a fight. The hobgoblin too had squared his fairly impressive shoulders, and had narrowed his one good eye to a bloodshot slit.
“I am Lord Connor McAleister of the High Seelie Summer Court, and this is my wife, and we need to speak to King Grendel on a matter of great urgency. Now, let us through, or you won’t be a town officer much longer ‒ in fact you won’t be alive much longer.”
Another longer hesitation. This time the hob leaned forwards a little, eyeing Connor up and obviously gauging whether or not Connor would put up much of a fight if things went bad. Connor was very slim and elvish made, tall and willowy, and he didn’t really look as if he would stand much chance against the monster in front of him. Whether or not the guard could sense power in Connor, or he realised that Connor had a genuine case, it was hard to say, but he relaxed and said:
“I’ll get someone ter take yer through ter the keep. Wait there.”
Then he disappeared.
They waited, Lily growing ever more restless, expecting something else big and ugly to come back through the gate, armed to the teeth to cart them off to the dungeons, but within a couple of minutes a small, very gnarled hobgoblin came bounding out of the gate and started bouncing up and down in front of them.
“You here to see the boss, ay?” he asked, still bouncing on the balls of his enormous bare feet. “Well, yer better come with me. What’s that yer got behind yer woggie, then, what’s that big bundle then? Got somethin’ nice in there have you? What yer got there, what yer got there?” he asked, without stopping once for breath, hopping up and down in front of them. He was starting to make Lily feel giddy.
“Nothing you’d want to know about,” Connor said, making it clear that was the end of the conversation.
“That’s all right, you keep yerselves to yerselves, Nob’s not one to poke his nose inter other people’s business.”
“Just take us to the keep, please,” Lily said.
The little hob, who barely came up to Lily’s chest was a strange looking little creature. His top half looked too small for his bottom half; his shoulders arms and torso were worryingly skinny, and looked as if they would snap at any minute, but his legs were solid and meaty, his feet huge. He was as hairy as most hobs, but he’d tied his hair up into a top knot, so his very peculiar features were on full display. Like most hob’s his nose accounted for most of his face, a great knobbly mound set just a little too far down his face, almost covering his wide slit of a mouth. Two watery and bloodshot eyes that were really no colour at all, peered out from under one caterpillar brow that stretched right across his face.
Nob continued to jump and scamper around them, almost tripping Lily up.
“Yer can’t take the woggie inter the keep, yer know, have to leave it in the stable. Can’t take no woggie inter the keep ‒ the boss don’t like woggie shit.”
“That’s not an option,” Connor said. “The camelak comes in with us.”
Nob seemed quite disturbed by Connor’s obstinacy on the matter. The bouncing got markedly more pronounced, and his voice even more frenzied.
“Boss aint gonna like that, aint gonna like that one bit.”
“You never spoke a truer word,” Connor said, and tightening his jaw, followed the strange little creature along passage after passage deeper into the heart of the mountain.
Lily had to admit that she found the whole journey through the tunnels fascinating, even with the dreadful happenings and the prospect of what was to come. Many of the small passages led off into larger caverns, and these were filled with crowds of people, stalls carrying produce, and small shops carved into the rock face, street entertainers, fast food sellers. There were hawkers with trays slung around their necks, carrying all sorts of small goods, sewing kits and cutlery, tinder boxes, trumpery, and other knick-knacks that Lily would love to have stopped and looked at. The whole spectacle dazzled the senses with sight and sound, a cacophony of languages that mingled together into a chaotic babble. There were so many smells mingled together that her nose rebelled, each smell, some good, some fairly disgusting, vied for attention, and she soon found herself feeling quite nauseous.
“This is amazing,” Lily said, “Wonderful.”
“That it is, mistress, that it is,” Nob said, skipping around her feet. “There aint no place in the whole world like Tunneltown.”
A stoutly built dwarf trundled past them, pushing a great trolley loaded up with rocks, grunting and grumbling as he fought his way through the crowds.
“Get outta my way, yer scuzzbuckets. No right to be here at all yer moth eaten mangy hobs.”
He promptly kicked a small hob child out of the way with an enormous booted foot, and left the poor infant squalling in the dust.
“The dwarfs still mine these tunnels, not many these days, but there’s still a few seams further in worth diggin’. They still think this place belongs ter them and they don’t mind lettin’ people know it.”
Further and further in they went, each minute bringing with it new wonders.
It should have been oppressive and claustrophobic, but there were torches everywhere, set in sconce around the walls, casting a warm golden glow over everything. Lily, who had never really seen many other feyfolk was fasc
inated by the various species she saw there, mainly hob’s, but creatures that she had never even heard or read about, let alone seen. Here were mine fairies, similar to dwarves, in many ways, a stocky race about half the size of humans, with doubled lidded eyes eyes, twice the size of most humans, and very little neck to speak of. They usually worked alongside dwarves in the mines, but kept themselves to themselves, having a serious loathing for most other races. There were household fairies, the Brownies or Urisk, strange little stick like creatures, with hair like twigs and skin like bark who walked with a strange jerky movement, and looked as if they would snap if anyone breathed on them too hard. There were fey of all shapes, sizes and colours, all bartering, laughing, chattering and exchanging goods. A few fights seems to be taking place here and there, one hefty hob was beating another one around the head and neck with a large fish, and another couple of hob females seemed to be fighting over a bolt of red cloth, one trying to wrench it from the other.
They passed by several taverns, their fronts open so that she could see inside, and it was packed with drunk and half drunk hobs, all swilling from mugs of ale that were almost as big as they were. One thing Lily did know about hobs was that they liked their drink. The festive and cheerful atmosphere that permeated the whole city, that filled it with such vibrant life made Lily wish she could stay longer. If their mission hadn’t been such an urgent and desperate one, Lily would have loved to spend some time there, just looking through all the wonderful things on the stalls and enjoying the sheer absurdity of it all.
She paused for a moment to watch an acrobat performing the most wonderful gymnastic feats. Nob grabbed a hold of her sleeve and tugged her forwards.
“Come on, come on, hurry up, that woggie looks like he’s going to do a dump any minute, and this lot will lynch the lot of us if he shits in the middle of the street. Come on, come on.”