The Prince and the Goblin

by Bryan Huff

Gnome Thirty-Seven held up a finger for her to wait, and then whispered a translation to the gnome sitting next to him. This gnome had the number one on his hat. Hob guessed he must have been the troop’s leader.

  “Ja, we zijn hier om Eldween te ontmoeten,” replied Gnome One.

  “Yes, vee here to meet Eldveen,” Gnome Thirty-Seven translated.

  “May we sit, then?” asked Stella, gesturing to the empty seats around her side of the table.

  This required no translation. Gnome One frowned, but nodded anyway.

  Stella didn’t wait for a better invitation than that. She made straight for the stool directly opposite Gnomes One and Thirty-Seven, while Monty made for the stool to her left, and Edric and Hob the two stools to her right. Before they even sat down, the gnomes spoke up again, Gnome Thirty-Seven translating for Gnome One.

  “But varr is Eldveen? Vee are supposed to be meeting Eldveen.”

  “W-what? Oh, him?” Stella stammered, as she sat down. She must have known the question would come up, but she didn’t seem ready for it so soon. “It’s a long story …”

  The gnomes all scowled. They could see she was stalling. Then, just when it seemed tensions couldn’t get any higher, Hob settled onto his stool between Edric and the gnomes, and mistakenly dropped his hood.

  “Gobleen! Gobleen!” the gnomes all squeaked in terror, forgetting about Eldwin’s absence for a moment. “Gobleen!”

  “So they know that word,” Hob groaned.

  Monty glared at him across the table.

  “It’s okay!” Edric shouted at the gnomes. “Nice goblin! Nice goblin!”

  “Right!” said Stella. “Friend!”

  “Vriend?” repeated the gnomes, in their own language.

  Apparently, they knew that word too—even if they didn’t believe it. They shot Hob sideways glances, and collectively shifted one seat away from him around the table. Again, Gnome One began nattering at Gnome Thirty-Seven.

  “Eldveen better have a good explanation for this!” Gnome Thirty-Seven translated. “Varr is he? Vee demand to see him now!”

  “W-well, that’s the thing,” Stella began again, cringing before the words even escaped her lips. “Eldwin’s missing. He’s not coming.”

  “Niet komend!” squealed Gnome Thirty-Seven.

  The whole troop gasped at once. And Gnome One began squawking directly at Stella.

  Gnome Thirty-Seven rushed to translate. “Liars! Gobleen-friends! How do vee know you are Eldveen’s apprentice? An impostor, most likely! Vee make deal only veeth Eldveen! No Eldveen, no deal!”

  Then, without another word, Gnome One hopped off his stool and marched for the door. Gnome Thirty-Seven and the rest of the troop followed in a long line.

  “Didn’t you say we need them?” Edric muttered to Stella, rather unhelpfully.

  Stella panicked. “But I really am Eldwin’s apprentice!” she said, jumping to her feet. “You can trust me!”

  The gnomes ignored her.

  “Lass!” Monty whispered, suddenly. “Eldwin must’ve offered somethin’ big to get them to the table. Somethin’ they couldn’t get any other way. What is it?”

  Stella thought fast. “Oh! I know that!” she cried. “The Vuurhart! The Vuurhart!”

  The gnomes had gathered at the door. Gnome One was reaching for the handle. But, upon hearing that word, they stopped and looked back.

  In a flurry, Stella fished a big leather-bound journal out of her satchel, and leafed through the pages. “Ah ha!” She held the book open for all to see. In the middle of a page covered with pasted-in notes, there was a small piece of parchment with a message written on it in tiny handwriting. Terms accepted. Crew and transport for the Vuurhart. Meeting set to confirm. Signed, Number One.

  The gnomes stared agape. One and Thirty-Seven even scurried over for a closer look.

  “Het is mijn schrijven,” said Thirty-Seven. “It is my writing.”

  “En mijn handtekening,” said One.

  “And his signature,” explained Thirty-Seven.

  Stella nodded. “And you can’t get the Vuurhart without us.” She slammed the book shut in their faces. “Only we know where it is.”

  “What’s a Vuurhart?” Edric whispered to Monty.

  “No idea,” whispered Monty.

  “Shh!” Stella hissed at them. “Only we know where it is.”

  “Oh, right!” they said.

  Taking the hint, Hob held back his own questions. He also wanted to know what the Vuurhart was, but he was going to have to wait with the others, until Stella found a good time to clue them in.

  Meanwhile, Gnomes One and Thirty-Seven hurried back to their companions to deliberate. Tiny voices whispered back and forth. Tiny fists pounded palms. Tiny feet stamped the floor. And finally, tiny heads nodded in agreement, before turning back to Stella and the others.

  “You tell us everything you know,” declared Gnome Thirty-Seven. “And if vee believe you are truly Eldveen’s associates, vee consider helping you still. Until then, vee speak no secrets, make no promises.”

  “A-agreed,” said Stella, sounding relieved. “I assume that was always the purpose of this meeting? To fill you in on the details? I know Eldwin could keep secrets with the best of them.”

  Gnome Thirty-Seven nodded on behalf of the others.

  “Well, let me show you I have the answers,” said Stella. “They’re all in here.” She held up her leather-bound journal again, and leafed through the pages. Parchment notes and scraps filled every page, many burnt and torn, but all pasted in neatly and labeled with her tidy handwriting. “I compiled every note, list, and receipt I could find in Eldwin’s abandoned cottage. I call it The Quest Master’s Guide.”

  “And I call it a scrapbook,” Edric whispered, jokingly.

  Stella shot him a threatening look, and he went quiet.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Not the time.”

  Gnome Thirty-Seven translated everything Stella said in a hushed voice, causing the other gnomes to react with a slight delay. Finally, they all nodded, and Gnome One led them back to the table. As they settled in again, Hob noticed they continued to leave the stool beside him empty.

  “So, let’s start with the basics,” Stella began, sitting back down, laying her journal open on the table, and surveying Edric, Monty, Hob, and the gnomes. “The purpose of our quest is fairly straightforward. Nearly one year ago, with the Kingdom on the verge of war with the goblins, King Edgar snuck off, against the will of his Lords, to finish his lifelong quest to drive the goblins back underground. Only, he never returned. We must find the King, if he’s anywhere to be found, and help him finish his quest. Or, if necessary, we must finish it in his place.”

  “We’ll find him,” said Edric, with a familiar tone of determination.

  Stella nodded sympathetically.

  Gnome Thirty-Seven continued to whisper a running translation, trying to keep his companions up to speed.

  “Now, King Edgar kept his plans a total secret until the day he left,” Stella went on, “not only from those trying to stop him, but from everyone, including my master Eldwin. It seems the King was afraid Eldwin would insist on joining him. And he wanted Eldwin to stay behind and watch over Prince Edric. This meant there was a lot to piece together after the fact. We know, however, that Valley Top is the last place the King was ever seen. That’s why our journey starts here. And we’ve always known the object of the King’s quest—the lost Sunflame of Yore.”

  Hob gasped. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t guessed that himself! What else could the King have been searching for?

  Stella turned to him with an amused smile. “You’ve heard of it then?”

  “Oh, yes!” said Hob. “There’s a whole chapter on it in From Bloody to Bloody Boring: A Painfully Detailed History of Yore.”

  This really seemed to catch Stella off guard. She went quiet for a second, staring at Hob with raised brows. “You mean, you read it? In that b
ook?”

  “Hah!” Monty scoffed. “Goblins can’t read.”

  “Most goblins can’t read,” Hob corrected him. “Because most goblins think it’s a waste of time. But some of us can read just fine.”

  “Prove it then,” Monty grunted.

  “That is, if you wouldn’t mind …” said Stella. She sounded more polite than Monty, but still plainly skeptical. “Why don’t you refresh our memories?”

  “Yeah, show ’em, Hob!” cheered Edric.

  Suddenly, all eyes were on Hob—including the gnomes’.

  “O-okay,” Hob stammered, feeling put on the spot. “Well, um, let’s see … A long time ago … after being banished by the Wizards of the East for delving into forbidden dark magics, an evil wizard, known today only as the Sorcerer, came to the valley of Yore. Back then, Yore was divided into six small early kingdoms, and no one here had any knowledge of Eastern magic, making it an easy target for the Sorcerer’s treachery.”

  Hob stopped and gauged his audience’s reaction. This was the longest he’d ever discussed history without getting punched. Everyone seemed interested enough, though. Gnome Thirty-Seven whispered a hurried translation.

  “Now, the Sorcerer had only one weakness,” Hob went on. “Sunlight is the bane of all dark magics, and the Sorcerer could only use his powers at night. So, one night, he used those powers to cover the entire valley in an eternal black cloud, which permanently blotted out the sun. After that, he began a campaign to take the valley for himself, and its people for his slaves. And when the people resisted, he enlisted their ancient enemies, the goblins, to act as his army, promising them a share of the lands and spoils, in exchange for their unending service. The valley was plunged into darkness for a very long time.”

  Hob paused for effect, and to let Gnome Thirty-Seven’s translation catch up.

  “After a hundred years of despair,” Hob continued, “one of the six original kings of Yore, the King of the Middle Lands, Prince Edric’s ancestor, had finally had enough. He fled the valley to seek the aid of the Wizards of the East. At first, his people feared he had abandoned them. Then he returned with the Wizards! They flew in on their legendary airships, bringing with them their greatest invention, the Sunflame: a magic fire that, when lit in its enchanted cauldron, burns with the purest light of the sun! Once the Middle King placed the Sunflame in its cauldron, high upon the peak overlooking his city at the center of the valley—a city now called King’s Rock—it was as if the whole valley was filled with magic, unseen sunlight, even at night and under the clouds. The goblins were driven underground for good. And the Sorcerer’s powers were broken, except inside the very darkest chambers of stone, completely closed to outside light. Finally, the six armies of Yore marched together on Shadowguard, the Sorcerer’s great fortress at the north end of the valley, where he was holed up in the darkness. Fearing his own destruction, he fled, and his clouds parted.”

  Hob took a deep breath, preparing for the grand finale.

  “For the Middle King’s great heroism, it was proclaimed that he and his heirs had been chosen by fate as the saviors and protectors of all of Yore, and as the eternal keepers of the Sunflame. And so, he was made High King, while the other five Kings became his Great Lords, agreeing to rule their old kingdoms in his name, so long as they might advise him as a Royal Council. As for the Sorcerer? No one knows where he went. But it was said that as long as the Sunflame burned over Yore, he would never return.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Whoa!” said Edric, at last, staring at Hob with what looked like a mixture of awe and pity. “Did you have all that memorized?”

  Hob shrugged. “I didn’t have many books.”

  “Hmph! Nice trick, goblin!” Monty snorted. “I met a horse who could do math once too.”

  “Well, I couldn’t have said it any better myself,” Stella cut in. “Sorry I doubted you, Hob.”

  The gnomes all whispered to each other in amazement.

  Hob blushed, turning a rather darker shade of green than normal.

  “Unfortunately, the story of the Sunflame doesn’t end there …” Stella went on.

  Quickly forgetting his self-consciousness, Hob shifted to the edge of his seat to listen. All goblins knew the Sunflame had disappeared—it had allowed them to go back above ground at night—but Hob had never met any goblin who knew what had happened to it.

  Stella flipped through her journal again, stopping at the relevant page. “This is taken directly from Eldwin’s notes,” she began, before reading aloud. “‘For two hundred years, our Kingdom was at peace. But no longer. It isn’t known how word of the Sunflame reached the dragon, whom we’ve come to call Marauder, but once it did, nothing could have stopped him from possessing it. Dragons are creatures of fire, famed for their love of rare treasures, and the Sunflame was both. Marauder flew in, concealed in a storm cloud, and fell upon King’s Rock without warning. And being a dragon, he consumed the Sunflame, swallowed it whole, and flew off with it in his belly.’”

  Stella paused to let that sink in.

  “‘In the thirty-five years since, nothing has been the same. The edges of the valley have grown wild and dangerous, and the goblins have begun raiding night after night. Worse still, dark clouds have begun to linger over Shadowguard in the north, giving us reason to suspect the Sorcerer of old may have finally returned to his fortress—’”

  “He has!” Hob interrupted. His mind raced. In all the excitement of the past few days, it hadn’t occurred to him that the humans didn’t know. Finally, he had a clear chance to prove to them just how useful he could be.

  All eyes were on him once more. But this time he welcomed them.

  “How do you know that?” asked Edric and Stella, together.

  “Aye … how?” growled Monty.

  “The Sorcerer called upon all the goblin hordes to send troops to his army!” Hob exclaimed. “I was there. I heard his voice in my head. Of course, I missed the try-outs, and they found the books I stole from the treasure pile, and I had to run away, but—”

  “get to the point!” Monty barked.

  “Well, the Sorcerer is back!” said Hob. “And he wants revenge! His army will be ready ‘when the first leaves of autumn fall.’ That’s when he’s going to attack.”

  Edric, Stella, and Monty fell silent. After a brief translation, the gnomes began to murmur nervously amongst themselves. This was not news anyone wanted to hear.

  Then Monty shook his head. “Hold on!” he said. “Don’t any of you find it odd that we just happened to get saddled with the one goblin who’s ready to spill all the beans? I still don’t trust him!”

  “But if he’s against us, and this is a lie, it’s not a very good one,” Edric countered.

  “Right,” Stella agreed. “It would only scare us into working harder and faster to defeat his side. No. I think Hob’s telling the truth. And, if so, then there’s no longer any doubt … This quest is the Kingdom of Yore’s last hope!”

  Edric nodded in dire agreement. Monty grumbled something about Hob under his breath, but eventually nodded as well. Even the gnomes joined in. No one wanted to see the Sorcerer come to power again.

  “And where are we goin’ on this quest, may I ask?” Monty wondered aloud. “I searched with King Edgar for years, and we never found a single clue that might lead to that blasted dragon.”

  “You weren’t alone,” said Stella. “Until recently, no one’s been able to determine the location of Marauder’s lair. That’s why the gnomes can’t find the Vuurhart, the Dragon Heart Stone, without us …”

  “Oh!” exclaimed Edric, Monty, and Hob.

  Suddenly, it all made sense—what the gnomes were after, how it related to the larger quest, and why they couldn’t get it by themselves. As far as Hob knew, dragons were exceedingly rare and dangerous. If the gnomes wanted to find one, and slay it, they’d need all the help they could get. The whole troop perked up at the mere mention of
finding the dragon and the Vuurhart.

  “In fact,” Stella went on, “it’s likely that only two people know how to find the dragon. King Edgar, if he’s alive, and Prince Edric.”

  “The lad?” Monty gasped.

  “M-me?” asked Edric.

  Hob and the gnomes gaped at him.

  “Yes, you,” said Stella. “Remember that old book Eldwin told you to read?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, it holds the key to finding the dragon. After your father disappeared, Eldwin did some digging. He heard from the Royal Librarian that the King had been obsessed with a certain book, and had been making secret trips to scour the Kingdom for a copy. Eldwin came to believe this book held clues as to the whereabouts of a mysterious Lost City, which was home to a dragon matching Marauder’s description. Unfortunately, the Royal Council had Eldwin barred from the palace before he could find the book. Apparently, the Great Lords felt he was a bad influence on the Prince.”

  “You don’t say?” said Monty, winking at Edric.

  “Fair enough,” said Stella. “But that’s why Eldwin sent cryptic instructions for Edric to find the book and read it. It will lead us to Marauder and the Sunflame.”

  For a moment, Edric said nothing.

  “You did read it, didn’t you?” Stella persisted. “Before your things were stolen by the goblins? If not, this quest is over.”

  More silence followed.

  The gnomes and Monty leaned forward, staring at Edric in suspense.

  Hob held his breath. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure he knew what book Edric and Stella were talking about and what had happened to it. But he didn’t know what to do about it. If he admitted he was the goblin who’d stolen the book, it was sure to destroy all the trust he’d built with them. It made his stomach feel all twisted up in knots, but he had to keep quiet and hope it wouldn’t matter.

  “Yes,” Edric replied. “I read it.”

  “Hooray!” cheered Monty and the gnomes, clapping their hands.

  Stella nodded her approval.

  And Hob exhaled, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. Everything would be okay.