“Yes! We could do that!” cried the dwarf, turning to walk a few steps away from his friend; he gazed at the long shadows cast by the grassland around him. “But would we then be any better than those loathsome, death-dealing whelps who stole the lives of Filburn and the others?” The dwarf turned back to face his companion and threw an accusatory finger at him, his own face in a mask of anger. “I know it trying! I know the entire thought of the letter, its unknown scrawl, its deception, its attraction for death, harangues the very core of you, but I too have placed my life upon this task and, by all that gilt, I will not be compared to nefarious creatures! We cannot cast our eyes on it!”
Cezzum stood mute, taken aback by his companion’s words; his emaciating face flushing a dark, green goblin hue; moisture glinted in his eyes. Palodar placed himself in front of Cezzum; his face, previously shadowed with anger, melted away into a soothing smile and the tension around his wrinkled eyes vanished. “Cezzum you are the first true friend I have taken too; my will is changed, my philosophies of life altered. No longer would I wish to trade or horde riches walking a path alone. You have shown me the true value of kinship, of brotherhood, more than my loving mother had ever expressed. My heart has been rent by you, goblin, as smelly as you may be, and remade all the stronger in your presence. If this task leads us to death, my fragrant brother, I would herald it as a drummer would marching into battle, as long as we stand at its brink together.” Palodar wiped a tear from his eye; his own voice began to quail; he promptly punched Cezzum in the arm. “Now find cheer before I have to knock you out and haul you to the barrow myself!”
Cezzum remained motionless, his mouth agape, completely astonished at the dwarf’s litany and proclamation of kinship. Words could not express the flurry of emotions that coursed through the goblin’s head at that moment, but his friend’s words, although potentially the excretions of a battered brain, would be forever treasured within him. Cezzum looked at the dwarf, who stood ever-so nervously, for he was unsure what his words might have triggered in his companion, and, with a grin of his own, Cezzum punched Palodar on the arm. Palodar laughed as he said, “Grand, I am glad that is indeed over!”
Cezzum laughed and in that second a new friendship between the two had been wrought: a bond that was as fundamental as the need to drink was, for it was a bond that both felt could never be cut in twain.
Palodar looked out over the western leas, at the straight gashes of land and the rolling knolls, and ruefully said, “What a way to go. Many leagues still lie ahead and all we have to fill our bellies is sprigs and twigs and the odd berry we have left over in the knapsack.”
Cezzum knew the remaining journey to the barrow would be arduous and if they did not find sustenance from the men who awaited them there, little hope of a return across the plains could be imagined. Not that it matters, thought Cezzum as he recalled the ford returning once more unto the river; if there was to be any return home it would have to be by another path. Despite the goblin’s sombre realisation of their situation, he was about to suggest that he was fairly certain that the plains must have some means to nourish those that walk its grounds, when the very soil beneath him began to shake.
“What in the ten gods!” cried the dwarf, as he stepped backwards, his eyes fixed on the ground with worry. The rumbling noise grew louder as the turf quaked increasingly. Cezzum too moved backwards and, standing next to Palodar, watched the sward of grass bobble up and down, sprinkling the air with dust. The vibrating mound collapsed in on itself, caving into some unknown pit beneath, leaving a gaping hole firmly placed in the land.
Two hands slowly emerged from the hole, if such clawing appendages could be dubbed as hands. Long, grasping tendrils, which resembled plant roots more than any manner of flesh, groped at the grass outside the hole, tugging at large clutches of the vegetation. A figure slowly emerged; its lanky, rapacious arms were in direct contradiction to its body. It was as if the very soil had decided to build a creature of grass and shrub and tree and and muck and forge them into a five-foot, stout and undulating and burly creation. It resembled a being that was, by its presence, the animation of mire. The body was symphony of dark hues and textures: dried and caked; with sweeps of tawny soil and creeping swarthy mud that wriggled and writhed; twigs, leaves, branches and even dirt-covered bones broke the muddy monotony of its body. No feet were evident and, as the creature raised itself next to the hole, it seemed that it walked upon a cushion of hundreds of roots that fingered and felt their way across the ground. Two large, emerald eyes sat recessed in the creature’s head – at least it was what the two companions deduced was its head, as it was utterly indistinguishable from its body; the only indication that it might be the centre of the beast’s intelligence was its slight tapering and circular shape near the crown. As it began to open its mouth, in a cavernous yawn, three spindly tongues lashed around inside its gargantuan mouth; mud, marsh and all manner of other decaying matter sloshed around inside its open cavity. A stench, so prolific in its decrepit brume, it brought them both close to retching; it beset their nostrils and minds; it was made all the worse when the creature let out flurries of air while it churned the grim mulch contained within its mouth.
Cezzum and Palodar drew their weapons and stood ready for any attack. The creature’s eyes were transfixed on the two friends; it bulged outwards and with flailing arms began to speak. Its voice was drummed deeply and resonated beyond anything the two halflings had heard before. Every word, every syllable, was stretched and long, making the creature’s speech sluggish, gradual and clawing at the fringes of comprehension. The words at first seemed to scatter and rage around Palodar’s and Cezzum’s ears, not quite making any sense or forming the bond of language that could be understood. The sounds soon shifted and twisted and pierced into their ears with a newborn comprehension. “Whyyy-y are youuu alivvve?”
Guardedly the goblin looked at Palodar, whose face, despite the dire situation, was brimming with a barely contained amusement at being asked such an outlandish question. The dwarf volunteered a witty rejoinder: “For we are not dead.”
The creature bawled in a low roar; its tone seemed to be filled with melancholy. “Baaooooooooooo, thaaaat is moost unfooortunaate. Yoo-u botth did not stirrr foor nigh oon twoo dayys – I thoought yoo-u werre dead; that is whyy-y I caame aall the wayy heree tooo eaat and muncch yourr corpsess. Butt I seee yoo-u arre not withouut liffe so I cann-ot disspose of yoo-u.”
The two companions both took a step backwards as the creature’s head began to lift from its body. A long slender neck, filled with writhing and wriggling worms and dots of decaying detritus, formed as its upper body altered shape. Its head arced over its torso and protruded a few feet in front of where it was previously attached, hovering in midair just before the goblin and dwarf. Its emerald eyes narrowed as mud bubbled around its ocular gateways; it inquired: “Thenn whaat are yoo-u? Yoo-u arre not huomons, mayybe chiilds of men? Butt chiilds of men doo noot havve beeeards!”
“Well, I,” replied Palodar stoutly, “am a dwarf.”
“And I am of the race of goblins,” added Cezzum, as they both earnestly answered the odd creature’s questions.
“Gooblins and dwaarves; havvve noot taasted theem in aaa looong time.”
The creature winced as the wind and sun began to dry some of its roiling, muddy skin. Turning to look at the patch on his lower body which had just solidified, it said, “Thiss is whyy-y I doo noot liike the suurface. I muust returrn beeloooow tthe grouund beeefore iit ihs mmmmy ddoooom.”
Palodar, in an aside, jested to Cezzum: “I am certainly glad he has decided not to taste us.” The goblin nodded as he watched the form of living mire and flesh survey the rest of its body.
Turning its head back, the creature comforted the dwarf’s apprehension. “Doo noot fret-t litttle dwaarf; I oonly deevour the deaad.”
Cezzum asked, “I have never seen nor heard of a creature such as you before, what exactly are you?”
The creature�
�s neck retracted and its previous squat shape returned. “Ii aam a Bogroo.”
The goblin scoured his mind trying to think of any a time he might have heard of such a creature, but could not recall the slightest mention of one – it was quite odd for Cezzum, for he knew, or at the least had heard, about almost every creature which inhabited the land. “A Bogroo? Are there more of you? Do you perhaps have a name? Why do you stay in this Lea? How did you get to us?” questioned Cezzum, utterly absorbed by the weird being and yearning to know more about it.
The goblin’s barrage of questions induced a pang in his side as Palodar elbowed him in order to balk his curiosity at the almost unfathomable creature directly before them. “Maybe it is not the best of times to annoy the crea- Bogroo, Cezzum.”
The Bogroo laughed at the bickering dwarf, its three tongues whipping around in its mouth as it chortled. “Noo itt is quite alllright; Ii raarely havve a chaance tooo taalk tooo the livving. The deaad arre not-t the liivliest buunch tooo taalk...... toooo.”
“Well, in that case,” added Palodar, slyly, “I too have a question: how is it that I do not understand the words or the language you speak, yet somehow my mind is able to fathom them; what type of speech or tongue is it?”
The Bogroo’s lanky arms began to wave and weave through the air once again as it replied, “Ii speeak one laanguaage – the laanguaage of death. It iss oone laanguaage thaat everyybody unnderstaands. Noww tooo answeer your-r questionns evenn littlerr gooblin. Yees, Ii am a Bogroo, annd a Bogroo iss mee. Theree iss onlly one of mee; becaause Ii havve oonly evver met myyself.”
Both the companions grinned at their droll, convoluting interlocutor. The Bogroo plunged its hands into its muddy body, apparently searching for something while it continued. “Aas forr a name, Ii havve none. For naames yoo-u seee arre not-t imporrtaant whhen yoo-u arre deaad, annd sinnce Ii liv-ve witth the deaad a nam-me iss not imporrtaant tooo me. Ii alwaays liv-ve where there hass beeen muuuch death, annd heree manyy agges ago-o thousaands upon thousaandss of huomons did diiie. Manyy were buuried and manyy were not-t. Thatt waas whenn Ii arrived; Ii cann alwaays feel, inn my very-y boody, when-n somethiing has periished-d orr will periissh sooon. Andd ev-ven thoough there hav-ve beeen manyy battles siince then, peeople now seeem to burnn all their deaad – and the deaad that-t arre buurned doo not neeed my-y care. Ii mak-ke suure the deaad always-ys returnn their substaaaanncees tooo the land.”
“A keeper of the dead,” murmured Palodar, his eyes wide in awe.
“Not-t a keeeper, taaaller-than-n-aaa-gooblin dwaarf, juss-t a caretaker,” replied the Bogroo as it removed a small package from its innards. “Ah!... heree it iss! Ii fouund this a feww day-ys agoo onn a losssst traaveeller whoo did not-t knoow the pliiiight off the Leas; itt is som-me houmon foood Ii think. Annd becauuse Ii coould feeel you-ur presence yoo-u had bet-ter eaat it or Ii willl sooon hav-ve tooo take car-re of yoo-u.”
“Our thanks!” replied Cezzum, as he took the offered supplies from the Bogroo. “But if I might ask, are we in truth close to death? Dwarves and goblins are well known for going many a day without the replenishment of food or water.”
“Ii aam suure tha-at is truue butt the Leas hav-ve a wayy to quiickly rob alll thosse thaat pass throough it of theiir liv-ves. It hass tooo dooo with the thousaands that her-re did per-rissh; their tor-tured soouls alwaays seeek others tooo joinn their plight. If onne does not-t come welll pre-pared tooo the Leas, onne willl nev-ver leaave the Leas again.”
“Then doubly our thanks!” cried Palodar. The two of them opened the ration pack finding themselves suddenly starved and immediately gorged themselves upon the dried rations of fruits, nuts and salted meats.
A crease wrapped itself around the Bogroo’s face, nearly splitting its head in twain in what Cezzum and Palodar thought to be a massive mouthful of mirth. “Noww lit-tle dwaarf and gooblin, Ii feeel Ii hav-ve spokenn for faar tooo lonng; telll mee what-t brings yoo-u here tooo the Leaas?”
The two companions thought it only just of them to repay the creature of death for the kindness it had shown them. Although in a weakened state of mind, Cezzum was careful not to divulge any details of the missive he carried; it had already caused the two friends more than enough grief and more was not welcome. The goblin commenced to recount their tale to the Bogroo, starting with his encounter with Filburn, but spinning the story into one of oddity by intimating that there was no apparent purpose for the defeated scout in forcing a goblin to travel to the tomb in the Fallen Leas. The Bogroo moved closer to the pair and listened most intently.
“Baaooooooooooooo!” bellowed the Bogroo as Cezzum and Palodar finished regaling the creature with their adventure. “Aa jourrney-y of muchh troouble yoo-u both be oon. Muuh-ch deaath seeems tooo followw inn yoo-ur stepss, may-bee I willl goo aand seee if those neaar the-e riv-ver neeed myyy helllp. Houmons arre verry straange folkk, especiaally tooo force yoo-u oon thiss triip foor noo reeeason. Ii’mm glaad Ii doo nott toil in thee aff-airs of the-e living; tooo confuusing forr my-y siim-ple exissstencce.”
Palodar and Cezzum, during the course of their narrative, succeeded in engulfing the entire ration pack, but oddly both still found themselves strikingly ravenous. From the Bogroo’s tidings they guessed that the tormented souls underfoot were actively at hand. Regardless of their hunger, the friends knew they would be able to survive the journey to the barrow, despite the aura of the lethargy-inducing fallen wondering below. Cezzum handed the waterskin back to Palodar after having taken a small mouthful of water to wash down the dry fare. The dwarf then asked, “I wish to know, Bogroo, how do you travel about? Surely you must tunnel with those dwarf-like hands of yours!”
The Bogroo nodded emphatically. “Ii diig some of thhe time, soometimes Ii justt floaat throough the grouund as a birrd woould flyy throough thee air-r annd sometimessssshmss Ii liike tooo waalk att niight und-der the starrs.”
Palodar thought on the Bogroo’s answer then sceptically replied, “But if you walk at times why is it that no rumour or tale of your existence has ever been uttered, by all things sure, at least someone must have seen you at some point. I have not even heard a children’s story about a creature such as yourself, and I have heard many tales so fantastic that children hardly believe them!”
“Welll my-y litttle dwaarf whenn Ii waalk Ii changge shape tooo thhe moost terrrifyying immage; Ii beecome deaath ittself. Noww peeople can-not seee whaat theyy can-not belieeve, annd iff theyy can-not belieeve whaat theyy seee thenn Ii can-not ex-isst.”
Palodar nodded, not quite sure what the baffling answer had meant; he puzzled that it had a deep philosophical undertone of some kind.
Unpleasant cracks and crinkles started to tear around the Bogroo, whose face clearly displayed its annoyance at the sun. “Ii muust bee off myy litttle frieends, thhe sunn iss moost disspleaased withh myy preseence. Buuuutt aan offfer Ii hav-ve forr yoo-u: nott offfen doo creaatures hav-ve thhe heaart tooo taalk withh mee annd Ii am mosst graateful tooo yoo-u bo-oth, sooo iff yoo-u woould lik-e Ii can ta-ake yoo-u tooo the Baroow, iff yoo-u deiggn to dooo.”
Cezzum arched his eyebrow in interest. “That would be most kind of you Bogroo!” said the goblin, excited at the notion of a more expedient trip through the Leas. “But how will you be able to aid us?”
“Baaoooo! Baaoooo!” boomed the Bogroo as its body became tremorous. The head of the creature rose a full foot higher, yet even more incredulous was that its bulk began to bulge and widen. Numerous bones snapped apart with sputters of violent cracks as they were torn asunder by the ripping tension of the Bogroo. Worms uncharacteristically darted about the altering body, finding pockets of safe refuge. The Bogroo’s body had converted itself into a massive sheet which stretched no less than six-feet wide. Cezzum looked at Palodar whose eyes were near those of a goblin fashion, so unbelievable was the wonder. “Yoo-u cann trav-vel innside mee; Ii willl swifttly seee yoo-u neaar the Baroow off Arccun’soon.”
“Inside thee?” queried Cezzum.
“
Iinsidde mee,” confirmed the Bogroo, “iit iss moost safe. Ii cann oonly devo-ur thhe deaad, thhe liv-ving, yeees, moost saf-fe aarre yoo-u. Oncce insiide yoo-u willl bee allmost deaad annd nott breathee, but oncce Ii let yoo-u outt yoo-u willl bee mo-ore thann alivve once mooorre.”
“Dead!” muttered Palodar, as he gazed, wide-eyed and apprehensively, at his seemingly calm companion. “Cezzum, I don’t think the idea of walking into some other creature’s belly to be a sound one! In truth, any creature that has ever gone into my belly has not breathed again; I dislike the notion of being devoured!”
“Doo nott hav-ve fearr litttle dwaarff, Ii willl takke goood carre of yoo-u.”
“Of course you would, you are a caretaker of the dead!” murmured the dwarf uneasily. Palodar shook his head as he looked at Cezzum; the goblin’s face was fixed with a wry grin. Palodar sighed deeply while the goblin walked merrily into the Bogroo. Standing under the overlapping head of the creature, Cezzum beckoned Palodar: “Into the belly of the beast my friend!”
Begrudgingly Palodar plodded towards the Bogroo, his feet dragging with every step. “I did not picture our second wonder would be us being eaten alive,” he said with imminent regret. Palodar stood next to Cezzum. The dwarf’s visage was in utter discontentment as he squirmed around, trying to position his nose some place to dampen the smell and concurrently attempting to swat at worms angling to wriggle onto him and nuzzle into his beard.
“Herre wee goo litttle frieends,” announced the Bogroo; the sheet of mire, sinew, worms and bone slowly drew closer around them. Cezzum laughed at his compatriot; Palodar’s eyes were shut so tightly that his beard almost seemed to start at his eyebrows. The sheet wrapped around both the halflings, wholly enveloping them inside the Bogroo. Cezzum, in the absolute darkness and horrific smell of the creature, felt his pulse slowly begin to drop, becoming ever more ponderous with each passing second.
The Good Goblin Page 7
