Goblin War Chief

by Gerhard Gehrke

  “The humans? They saw us fight the zealots.”

  “I understand that part of it. But Noe would never allow us to accept their aid.”

  Thistle shook her head. “I made contact with the fort. Noe was unconscious for a while.”

  “She’s awake now.”

  Wren needed another pair of hands as he handled the most urgent needs among the wounded goblins. Thistle found herself in the role of his second-in-command. She passed along instructions as necessary. The fires needed to be stoked using wood taken from one of the fallen structures. Soiled bandages had to be washed, and their reserves of water were nearly depleted. Melting snow took too long. The fort had a long, empty water trough they could fill if enough goblins could help with buckets. All they needed to do was go outside and find a fresh water source.

  A hazy sun shone above the walls.

  Kel’s men remained at their posts. He had heard her request for water, but he wouldn’t allow the gates to be opened. Something was up. She strained her ears for any sounds or signals. None came. Then she realized Preemie hadn’t returned with the others and wasn’t inside the fort.

  “Didn’t see him,” Wren said as he collapsed on top of a blanket. “You’ll need sleep. If there are more wounded coming, we’re going to be busy.”

  She nodded and lay down next to him. She had grown accustomed to the frosty air blowing in over the walls. But as they huddled close to one another, she found herself grateful for his warmth. She pulled a blanket over them, and he was snoring softly within moments.

  He had done his job. Bones were mending and wounds were wrapped. The goblins around them were cared for. As much as she craved sleep, she opened her notebook. Time for her to do what she was there for.

  She wrote.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  The names of the fallen will be added here. There are more wounded than we can adequately care for. But we inflicted heavy losses on Pater’s forces, achieving a triumph over armed and trained men with little more than fury and courage on our side.

  The Pinnacle men in North Fort accommodate us, out of either gratitude or the shrewd realization that we might be allies. Only time will tell what will come of this.

  Our war chief has made the decision to prosecute the matter with what remaining able-bodied warriors we still have. If another battle is to follow, the outcome is certain.

  We saw their numbers. They will be prepared. We will attack the zealots at their camp where they are waiting.

  Our raid has already accomplished what it has set out to do. The humans know we exist and will fear us. Clearing the land of them when their numbers are like the stars was never a possibility. Whether some boundary can be established remains to be seen. Perhaps some lasting bond or contract can be penned with the humans, but this is not a goal shared by the war chief.

  I believe the key to our fortunes will be to establish a treaty with Pinnacle. Our presence within their fort and their treatment of us shows they can view us as more than savage monsters.

  Today will decide so much for our kind.

  May the moon prove merciful and the sun watch over those who go to fight.

  Thistle found herself pacing. She didn’t have the pages to make a thorough accounting, and even if she did, something was bothering her.

  If there was a last battle, was she missing it? But even more important was seeing a beneficial result to all their suffering. So why weren’t the humans leaving?

  She went to look for Kel. She found him in the meeting room that served as his quarters. The sentry just outside the door was sitting leaned against a wall, asleep. Stepping past him, she slowly opened the door.

  Kel was sitting at the table, his head propped up on an arm. “How did you get in here?”

  She pointed to the sleeping guard. He let out a frustrated sigh. He set down a piece of paper he’d been holding in one hand. It appeared to be a list with a tally of tic marks next to each item.

  “You shouldn’t be in here.”

  “And your guard should be awake. It doesn’t take a keen eye to see you and your men are exhausted. You’ve kept me from your sick ward, but our doctor is with us now. He might be able to help.”

  “We lost ours. He left with Lord.”

  Thistle nodded. “I remember him.”

  The soldiers in Lord’s mercenary band had called their doctor Medico, but she knew this was only a nickname. He was a superstitious man who plied glyphs and crude medicine. Lord had him killed when Medico and some of the other soldiers had tried to leave his service.

  “The food we brought in…as you can see, it wasn’t poisoned.”

  He motioned for her to continue.

  “I can see hunger on the faces of your men. With the tribesmen gone and the bunkers cleared, you have the chance to flee. What’s your plan?”

  “To follow our orders.”

  “Even to the point where all your men perish?”

  “It hasn’t come to that.”

  “I won’t offend you by asking how many able-bodied fighters you have, but I can count. You’ve made no move to break out from your siege. With our arrival and yesterday’s battle, you have the opportunity for escape.”

  “The tribals may be out of sight, but they’re still out there.”

  “They haven’t attacked you yet, at least not this group. What if a deal can be struck? If you’re no longer being supplied by your military, then what is your obligation?”

  “Let me ask you: What’s your stake in this? Why are you the only one who will talk to me? You aren’t one of the officers of your company of goblins.”

  “I’m not,” Thistle said. “But I want to do everything in my power to see something permanent come out of this war.”

  “Is that what you call what you’re doing?” Kel asked.

  “There’s no other label to use. The only thing we haven’t defined is whether our fight is with all humans or only those who would harm us.”

  “I don’t see any purpose in my apologizing for Lord or anyone else from Pinnacle who did you harm. But is that what your leader wants?”

  “We’re not here for an apology. Your actions have done more to speak to your character. But you have to leave your fort and return home if you want to survive. Winter is here. Today might be your last opportunity. While the zealots are reeling. While we can talk to the tribesmen. And before the weather turns cold.”

  He let out a laugh. “It’s already cold.”

  The guard wheezed and jerked awake. When he saw Thistle, his eyes grew wide. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to nod off.”

  “It’s too late for apologies, private. The enemy is here, and she’s delivered the conditions for our surrender. Now go to your bunk and get some real sleep. You’ll pull watch tonight. In the meantime, this goblin and I have things to discuss.”

  She tried to contain her excitement when she left Kel’s chamber. Little had changed in the courtyard. The wounded were resting. Wren was stirring a simmering pot of bandages. The water was brown.

  “No word from the outside,” he said, as if anticipating her question. “Why are you grinning?”

  “Kel said they’d go. They’ll leave the fort if they can get some promise from the tribesmen. I can’t believe it. He said he’ll have to send his own scout to see if the zealots and the mountain tribesmen are staying back. We did it. None of them will have any reason to stay once the fort is abandoned.”

  “They’ll have us to fight.”

  “Not if we retreat back to Athra. Wren, this is better than anything I ever imagined. What if Kel can take word to Pinnacle that we’re seeking a treaty? When the zealots learn this, they might be convinced to seek peace not only with Pinnacle but with us. That would mean Athra is safe.”

  She realized her hands were trembling. She didn’t know where the tears had come from.

  “Thistle, you had a conversation with someone who isn’t even an officer. Why would anyone even want a treaty with us? It’s not that easy.”r />
  “I know. It has to start somewhere, doesn’t it, though? Why not here, in this frozen fort?”

  He started to speak but held back.

  “What? You think I’m being a fool?”

  “You’re not a fool. But you’re forgetting Noe and Gelid.”

  “Then I’ll have to get through to them. Help me. We’ve spilled enough of our own blood here. This will make it count for something.”

  “When’s the last time you ate and slept?”

  She gave a dismissive wave. “I have to go out there. Find the tribesmen. See what they want that will allow this to happen.”

  “We should wait. Our hands are full. But I know I can’t stop you from doing anything.”

  She couldn’t understand the sad look in his eyes. She was offended by it. It implied a misgiving he wasn’t willing to express. Perhaps his dependence on his medicine had robbed him of his ability to see the possibilities. Even if she failed, she couldn’t hold herself back. With so many fallen who had bodily thrown themselves at the enemy, she could do no less with the prospect of peace.

  She went to the gate and demanded to be let outside.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Something strange was going on at the zealot camp.

  Her whole body shivered by the time she made it close enough to see. She kept expecting to run into the goblins, but they were nowhere to be found. Neither were the tribesmen.

  A ground mist clung to the camp. Above rolled a high fog.

  She strained her eyes and searched for sentries but none could be seen.

  Then from the camp came the roar of laughter. It repeated a few times before fading.

  She crept through the grass on the opposite side of the stream. This path would lead her to the lower camp. Something large was moving in the mist and heading towards her. A horse. She prepared to dive to the side as the animal galloped her direction, but at the last moment it bucked and twisted and changed course. A human was on the animal’s back, riding without a saddle. It was one of the tribesmen. He cackled wildly as the animal again tried to jump and dislodge him. A group of men ran to hem the horse in, one of them getting the animal to calm down enough to slip a rope around its head.

  As they returned towards camp, she followed.

  They crossed the stream towards the corral. She waited until they were out of sight before moving towards the closest tent. The smell of blood assaulted her nose. She saw the first body of one of the zealot soldiers flung to the ground like a forgotten doll. A pair of tribesmen were pulling a trunk out of one tent and a third followed, laden down with clothing.

  She found a place behind a wagon and watched.

  From a nearby tent, a man screamed in pain. His cry was quickly cut short. A moment later a tribesman emerged with a gold chain, which he held up to the sky as if inspecting it. He wiped a bloody hand on his hide trousers. More tribesmen came into view.

  She counted.

  More than twenty tribesmen were actively looting and preparing the horses just within the lower portion of the zealot camp. How many more waited up above, and in the woods and hills? Their leader, Jacob, had taken the zealot silver as payment and then attacked their camp.

  But why? And where were Noe and the rest of the goblin warriors?

  She rose from her hiding space.

  The tribesmen she approached were so involved in divvying up their spilled pile of clothing, they didn’t even notice. One tall man almost walked into her as he admired a green felt hat with a feather attached to the side. When he saw her, his eyes went wide and he stumbled backward before shouting someone’s name.

  Thistle walked after him with her hands out to show she wasn’t a threat. “Where’s Dust?”

  More of the tribesmen emerged from the tents of the camp and moved away from her as if playing the child’s game of Keep Away.

  “I need to find Dust. Or Jacob, your chief. Or any of you who will talk to me.”

  But none did. They turned their eyes away and avoided her as best they could. But at the slope of the hill that divided the camp, she found Dust.

  He sat in the muddy snow, a stone knife in his hand. Blood dripped from his lips. He had multiple fresh cuts over his body and most of his furs were lying on the ground. When he saw her, his eyes went wide and he let out a pitiful cry. He clamped his eyes shut and began mewling. The edge of the knife went to his forearm and slashed a new pink line. More blood began to flow.

  Thistle didn’t see his mirror around his neck or any of his other jewelry.

  “Dust, it’s me. Please stop doing that. Tell me what’s happening.”

  The knife tumbled from his hands. He buried his face in his palms and let out a groan.

  She didn’t dare touch him. “Help me understand why you’ve attacked the camp here.”

  Dust moaned, saying the same few unfamiliar words over and over. From the amount of blood coming from his mouth, she guessed he had slashed his tongue. A small crowd of tribesmen stood a stone’s throw away, their eyes downcast.

  “Why won’t any of you help him? What’s wrong with you?”

  One of the tribesmen picked up a lump of mud and flung it at her. It smacked her on the arm as she deflected it. Another threw a clump of dirt. They hurled more handfuls of debris, pelting her. She ran up the rutted path towards the upper camp as the hail of dirt and snow rained down on her. But once she made the climb, they didn’t follow.

  A pair of Gelid’s warriors stepped into view holding spears.

  One took her by the arm and walked her towards the largest tent, where the zealot leader had resided. The red banner continued to fly overhead. Chief Gelid sat on the back of a wagon where a few more goblins were sleeping.

  “Look who we found wandering around. She got the tribals all stirred up again.”

  Gelid hopped to the ground. “We discussed obeying orders.”

  “Chief Gelid, we have an opportunity,” she said. “The men in the fort will leave if they can get some assurance they won’t be harmed by the tribesmen. There doesn’t have to be any more bloodshed. Don’t you see? We’ve won.”

  The hard lines of his face deepened as he scowled. “Your instructions were to assist the wounded.”

  “This is important. I need to know what you told the leader of the tribesmen. What happened here? I have to go see him.”

  “Get her out of my sight. Watch her. And if she makes a fuss, shut her up. Noe should have taken her tongue out after her first outburst.”

  She fought as the guard hauled her away. “Please. You have to listen. We don’t have to kill any more of them. Let me talk to Noe!”

  Other goblins were watching as she was taken to the edge of camp where supplies were being gathered. One Stone and another goblin were loading a pair of horses down. He glanced at her before breaking eye contact. The guard shoved her to the dirt next to sacks of grain. She rose only to be pushed back down.

  “You heard the chief,” the guard said. “He doesn’t like you.”

  “Yeah. I caught that.”

  The guard lingered.

  “I’m not going to do anything,” Thistle said.

  “And I have my orders.”

  Blood stained the nearby ground. The guard had a fresh cut with a new dressing of moss on his shoulder.

  “Do you need me to look at your wound?”

  “It’s cared for. I’ll have the doctor look at it if it bothers me.”

  “What did Gelid say to the tribesmen?”

  The goblin guard ignored the question.

  “How many more did we lose when we came here?”

  “Stop talking.”

  One Stone came up behind him and handed her a skin of water. “We lost seven more. Ramus…”

  She took the skin but didn’t drink. She was suddenly numb. “No. Don’t say it.” She felt her throat tighten.

  “Ramus fell. He was the first here leading the charge as the tribesmen took the lower camp where most of the soldiers were regrouping.” One Stone nudge
d the guard. “I’ll watch her.”

  “Chief Gelid gave me orders.”

  “I’ve got this. Get out of here.”

  One Stone waited for the guard to leave before sitting next to her. He placed a tentative arm on her shoulder. They had never been close. He had always been the front-running overachiever in Boarhead, the boy who all her brother’s peers looked up to. He’d make someone a good provider.

  Her voice was thick as she spoke. “I have to talk to Noe. Either take me to her or bring her here.”

  “Can’t you just grieve?”

  “There’s no time for that. I’ve shed my tears and right now they’re a luxury. Your father, mine, and now Ramus? Did they all die just so we could follow? It has to mean something. There has to be more to this than just killing as many humans as possible. Let me see Noe. If we can get the humans in the fort to surrender and leave, there will be that many fewer of them looking to take their revenge.”

  One Stone took his hand away. “I’m not stupid. That’s what the other kids thought of me.”

  She let out a laugh. “No one ever thought you were stupid.”

  “You and your brother did.”

  “We never thought that. You were the best unstudded hunter in the village, and then you got your first kill. I always thought you were going to be the youngest huntmaster in Boarhead. But not stupid. We need hunters. We’d die without you.”

  “I’m smart enough to know that what we’re doing to the men here will have to be answered for.”

  “Do you know what was offered to the tribesmen? What made them turn on the zealots?”

  “I wasn’t close enough to hear. But I know Gelid made an arrangement. Horses and gold, much more than they were paid by Pater. All they had to do was come and help us take the camp.”

  “What happened to their shaman?”

  “He kept screaming at them after they killed the zealots. It was obvious he didn’t like their leader talking to us. But there’s another part of the deal. It’s why the tribesmen aren’t leaving.”