Goblin Slayer, Vol. 7

by Kumo Kagyu

  “Hmm…”

  Even as she spared a wry smile, Sword Maiden kept reading the book of legal precedent.

  Her right hand caressed a clay tablet, while the left ran over the book on the lectern.

  She claimed that the subtle differences of texture in paper and ink allowed her to decipher letters. That was surprising enough, but what really impressed the acolyte was that Sword Maiden could understand the letters at all.

  Some people chose not to learn the ancient writing systems, because they feared gaining untoward knowledge. They didn’t want to stumble upon any maledictions that might be tucked away in the text, or be driven mad by the shock of unimaginable truths that they came into contact with.

  But reading and writing being such valuable skills, could any explorer afford to be illiterate?

  If you were going to go into battle, you had to know who you were fighting.

  That was true even with goblins; how much more so for terrible wizards or evil Dark Gods…

  “…Ahh, now… This, I remember.”

  Sword Maiden’s sudden remark brought the acolyte back to herself.

  “Does it make sense now, ma’am?”

  “Yes. Hee-hee… I wonder what he would make of this. I think it might be helpful for him to know.”

  But I don’t suppose he would actually be interested.

  She sounded a touch disappointed as she closed the heavy metal cover and let out a small breath.

  “I apologize again, but could you bring quill and paper, and ready a pigeon?”

  “This isn’t another of your love letters, is it?”

  The acolyte smirked as she offered this twist of the knife, provoking a “Why, you!” and a puff of the cheeks from Sword Maiden.

  “I will be writing to His Majesty and the chief of the elves. I do know how to separate my official and private lives, you know!”

  The acolyte nodded obediently as she opened a drawer, pulled out lambskin paper and a pen, and set about preparing a candle and seal.

  She could bring the pigeon after the letter was written. She would ask the gods to protect it.

  If Sword Maiden said so, then this certainly had to do with the fate of the world.

  “I suppose all of creation is still in danger, and there are still many adventures to be had, is that right?”

  “Indeed it is. We face a very powerful foe. A terrifying one. The world may yet be destroyed.

  “But,” Sword Maiden whispered and put a finger to her cheek, her lips softening like fresh petals.

  “If he can save people, then we must save the world.”

  The tweet of a bird, cheep-cheep-cheep. The sunlight that slashed in through the windows. An atmosphere to be found only in the depths of a forest.

  Any one of them would have been enough to rouse Cow Girl from her slumber, but none was what actually woke her.

  “Mmn, hggh—ahhh…”

  She pushed aside the fur blanket, giving a big stretch. The early morning chill was pleasant on her naked body.

  There was no time to savor it, however.

  One thing had awakened her from sleep.

  Clank, clank. It was the metallic scraping sound that could be heard from the adjoining guest room.

  “…Right!” Cow Girl gave herself an invigorating slap on each cheek, then set about stuffing her ample frame into her clothes. She pulled on her underwear in a hurry, fastened the buttons of her shirt, and then…

  My pants! What’s with my pants…?

  She was by no means overweight, but somehow she just couldn’t get them on. Her fingers slipped, perhaps because of her haste.

  “Ohh, for…!”

  She clicked her tongue and decided it wasn’t something she usually worried about anyway. Instead, she pushed past the divider that separated her from the living room, wearing just a shirt over her undergarments.

  “G-good morning!”

  “Hrm…”

  As she’d expected, he was there.

  He was in his usual cheap-looking steel helmet and grimy leather armor, his sword of a strange length at his hip and his small, round shield on his left arm.

  He was also carrying his bag of miscellaneous items; he looked ready to depart on a trip at any time.

  She murmured “Umm” or some such as a way of diverting him then hugged her own arm. “…Are you going already?”

  “The goblin hideout is almost certainly upstream,” he said, nodding crisply. “If they were to put poison in the river, that would be the end.”

  “Yeah, that’d be bad,” Cow Girl said with an ambivalent smile. Her head was full of the weather, and the sun, and her uncle. All going around and around…

  “Er, well… Be careful, okay?”

  Those were the words that finally made it out of her mouth—those obvious, banal words.

  He nodded and replied, “I will.”

  Then he strode toward the door at a bold pace.

  As she watched him go, Cow Girl opened her mouth several times, but each time, she closed it again without saying anything.

  “You too…” With his hand on the door, he shook his head slightly. “All of you.”

  Then there was a sound as the door opened, and another as it shut.

  Cow Girl let out a breath. She pressed a hand to her face then ran it through her hair.

  Oh, for… The softest of groans escaped her.

  Suddenly, there was a rustle of cloth and a voice from behind her.

  “…Has he gone?”

  “…Yeah.” Cow Girl gave a small nod then rubbed her face. Finally, she turned around slowly. “Do you wish you’d had a chance to say good-bye?”

  Guild Girl, still in her nightclothes, mumbled, “Not really,” and scratched her cheek awkwardly. She offered a weak smile. “I don’t…want him to see me before I put my face on.”

  “Can’t say I don’t sympathize, but…”

  Guild Girl may not have had her makeup on and may not have done her hair. Yet, as far as Cow Girl could tell, she still boasted an unadorned beauty.

  Still, she and Cow Girl were about the same age. Cow Girl knew how she felt and was, in fact, painfully aware of it. And yet, even so…

  “I like him to be able to see the way I normally look.”

  “………I envy your courage,” Guild Girl said, somehow sad.

  Cow Girl tried to distract her with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I just try not to think about it, is all.”

  Neither of them said what it was they were trying not to think about:

  That each and every good-bye could be the last.

  §

  The elf harbor: on a collection of leaves that came out into the river like a bridge, the adventurers were gathered.

  “Mm… Hmm…” High Elf Archer squinted like a cat and gave a great yawn; she was still half-asleep. The other adventurers, though, were already busy loading luggage onto the boat.

  Elvish boats were elegant teardrop-shaped vessels carved from the silvery roots of the white birch.

  “And heave, and ho, and hup, and oh!”

  Dwarf Shaman was busy lining up wooden boards along the gunwales as shielding, turning the little bark into a crude warship.

  “…Could they not be made a little more…pretty?” the elf with the shining headdress asked, pulling a face.

  “’Fraid beggars can’t be choosers. We don’t have very many of them, and I had to come up with them in a hurry. No time to be concerned about looks.” Dwarf Shaman gave an annoyed snort and stroked his white beard. “Not like I’m happy to hang them up this way anyway.”

  It would have been one thing if they’d had more time, but in a pinch, this was the most that could be managed. The elf must have acknowledged as much, because instead of continuing to complain, he reached out his hand into the wind.

  “O sylphs, thou windy maidens fair, grant to me your kiss most rare—bless our ship with breezes fair.”

  There was a whistling as the wind gusted up in time with the elf�
�s chant and began to blow around the boat.

  “I have a certain affinity with the sprites by virtue of being an elf, but I’m still a ranger, a tracker. I ask you not to expect miracles.”

  “Believe me, I don’t,” Dwarf Shaman said with a mischievous smile and a glance out the corner of his eye at High Elf Archer. “Everyone is good at some things…and not at others.”

  “…Yawn…” High Elf Archer was still rubbing her eyes, her long ears drooping pitifully. It didn’t look like she would be fully awake for a while yet.

  “And where’s her older sister?” Dwarf Shaman said.

  “…It seems the two siblings were up talking until quite late last night.”

  “Still in the Sandman’s grip, eh?”

  The elf with the shining headpiece let out a sigh, then furrowed his brow as if his head hurt. “Humans are quite industrious… My new younger sister could stand to learn something from them.”

  He was looking at the two clerics, who were already aboard the boat and offering their prayers to the gods.

  “O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, please, by your revered hand, guide the soul of we who have left this world…”

  “O great sheep who walked the Cretaceous, grant to us a modicum of your long-sung success in battle!”

  Priestess was clinging to her sounding staff and imploring the Earth Mother to keep them safe on their adventure.

  Lizard Priest was making a strange gesture with his palms together and prevailing upon his ancestors for aid in combat.

  Even if these were not requests for miracles proper, there was no question that the gods’ protection would be with them.

  “Phew…” Finished with her prayers for the time being, Priestess stood up and wiped away her sweat as the boat rocked gently in the current. “I’m not so sure we should beg the gods for favors like this. We should try on our own until we understand where we are insufficient.” Priestess looked like she might topple over at any moment; now a scaled hand supported her, and Lizard Priest nodded.

  “I don’t suppose it should hurt so very much to ask. Why pray to a god that would not grant you victory even after you had staked all on a tremendous battle, expending your every effort?”

  “I think that may be a little beyond what I’m talking about.”

  One of them was a devout cleric and servant of the Earth Mother.

  The other was a lizard priest who venerated his forefathers, the fearsome nagas.

  But this difference didn’t mean they necessarily had to be at odds.

  “Anyway, let’s do our best.” Priestess nodded to herself, clutching her sounding staff with vigor.

  “Are you finished?” Goblin Slayer asked as he emerged from belowdecks.

  His arms were full of provisions and sleeping gear, and he ran his gaze along the shields that had been put up against the sides of the ship.

  “Oh yes. The shields are up, we’ve said our prayers, and we have the blessing of the wind as well.”

  “I see,” Goblin Slayer murmured. “Thank you for your help.”

  “Oh, not at all!”

  Priestess had a bright smile on her face; Goblin Slayer nodded at her and then boldly climbed down onto the wharf. The large leaves shuddered slightly under the weight of him and his equipment, and a ripple ran along the surface of the water.

  “I’m grateful for your help.”

  “Think nothing of it,” the elf with the shining headpiece answered evenly. “However,” he added, “if you wish to thank me, see my younger sister-in-law safely back.”

  “Very well,” Goblin Slayer replied without hesitation. He turned to look at the girl in question, who still appeared dangerously unsteady.

  Priestess was trying hard to shush Dwarf Shaman, who was suggesting that a dunk in the river would do the elf some good.

  “I accept,” Goblin Slayer said.

  “Very well,” the elf replied. His face relaxed in what might have been relief, but he quickly made his expression taut again. Then he reached into an item pouch at his hip and withdrew a small jar of rich golden honey.

  “This is an elixir,” he said. “A secret remedy passed down among the elves. It is said to be made with a combination of herbs, varieties of tree sap, and fruit juices, along with a ritual to the spirits. The top was sealed with a kingsfoil leaf, so the elixir can be drunk only once.”

  Goblin Slayer took the bottle without a word and put it into his own item pouch.

  “If I do not come back, please see to the two women.”

  “I accept.”

  “And to the goblins as well.”

  “But of course.” The elf nodded and then, after a moment’s thought, added somberly, “…She may not be perfect, but she is my younger sister by law now, and I have known her for a long time. Take care of her.”

  “As long as it is within my power, I will do so.”

  Even the elf, for all his long life, seemed surprised by Goblin Slayer’s response. “You don’t take anything lightly, do you?” he said, his expression softening just a little—but he spoke so quietly that only the trees could hear. Then he went on, “The elders have received some kind of news from the water town.”

  “Oh?”

  “…But even I am not yet mature by the reckoning of the high elves. I can’t guess what move the elders may be planning to make.”

  The elfin imagination spanned a vast period of time. The smallest and most seemingly insignificant thing could have ramifications countless years later.

  The actions they took here, now, would most likely be the same. The elf with the shining headpiece gritted his teeth. He was to be the next chief, and yet, even he had not been told what the news was.

  Not that he couldn’t take a guess, of course. But a guess was still a guess. It was not a fact.

  So long as he didn’t know what the ripples on the surface might form, he could only stay silent.

  Goblin Slayer looked at the unspeaking elf and grunted. Then slowly, as if nothing had happened, he opened his mouth.

  “Also, be careful of the river.”

  “You’re the ones who will need to be careful,” the elf said lightly, feeling a bit odd at the nonchalance of Goblin Slayer’s words. “I believe there will be a mist today.”

  His ears twitched like leaves as he took in the sound of the wind and looked at the pale light of the morning sky.

  “Goblins are not the only danger in this forest. At the wrong time, Nature itself can be your enemy. Bear that in mind as you go.” Because after all… The elf with the shining headpiece and Goblin Slayer looked into the forest. “You will be journeying into darkness.”

  “Into darkness,” Goblin Slayer repeated softly.

  The sea of trees that extended to the source of the river harbored an impenetrable blackness.

  There was a warm breeze that brought thick, humid air. Like the inside of a goblin nest, Goblin Slayer thought. And that was a fact.

  What should he do, then? He considered for the space of an instant then formulated his plan.

  “…I have one further request.”

  “What is it?” the elf looked at him questioningly.

  “Prepare another boat.”

  “I will do it.” The elf nodded, making the ritual sign of a promise of his people.

  Seeing this, Goblin Slayer said, “By the way,” as if he had just thought of something. “I have been wondering. Is it true that elves have no concept of ‘cleaning up’?”

  “We do,” the elf with the shining headpiece replied, looking very weary. “But some sisters don’t.”

  “…I see.”

  §

  The fog turned out to be a true blessing.

  It blocked out the sun, daubing everything with a white haze, so that even objects only a short distance away were vague and indistinct.

  The goblins didn’t think of the fog as a blessing; to them, it was only natural. When something good happened to a goblin, he didn’t feel gratitude toward anyone or anything. Sin
ce goblins were so often tormented, so thoroughly put-upon, it was only right that something decent should happen to them sometimes.

  It was no different now.

  The goblin who had been told to watch the river flowing through the forest noticed it immediately. He had been slacking off in his work, so he squeaked and squealed when it happened.

  It was “nightfall,” when the sun behind the veil of mist had only just risen.

  Mingled with the river’s gurgling current, he heard a creaking sound getting closer.

  The goblin guard’s ugly eyes got wider; he peered into the fog and listened as hard as he could.

  Yes, there it was.

  Creak, creak. There was no question: the sound was coming from downstream, from the direction of the elf village.

  The elves, who always contemptuously looked down on the goblins, thought they could just come right on up this river!

  “GROORB.”

  When he spotted the slim form of a sailor emerging through the mist, the goblin licked his lips.

  If it was a he-elf, they could beat him to death and feast upon him.

  If it was a she-elf, they could make her the bearer of their young.

  Whichever, he had found them first, so he was entitled to be the first to enjoy them, wasn’t he?

  He didn’t think for one second that the only reason either of these outcomes was possible was exactly because his companions were with him.

  “GRORO! GROOBR!!”

  The goblin put his fingers in his mouth and produced a not very skillful whistle.

  “GROB?!”

  “GOORBGROOR!”

  The goblins, who had been sleeping, were not pleased to have been roused early. But they, too, snapped awake the moment they caught sight of the elvish boat.

  Elves! Adventurers! Prey! Food! Women!

  “GORBBR!”

  “GOBGOROB!”

  As quietly as they could, they whispered their lusts to one another, taking up their equipment and flying to their cherished mounts.

  Well, let us not say cherished. They didn’t care all that much for the wolves they rode.

  “GOROB!”

  The guard, who now fancied himself the leader, gave an order, and the goblin riders galloped off.

  Unlike horses, wolves make no clatter of hooves as they approach. As long as they’re muzzled, they don’t howl, either. Goblins (except hobgoblins) could conceivably ride horses, but wolves were more convenient.