“When do we strike?” a particularly brave goblin ventured to ask.
“When? We attack when the night is at its darkest. When the powers of the moon and the ancient gods are flowing strongest across the land. That is the hour when our star shall shine bright and revenge will be ours once more! We attack at the stroke of midnight on All Hallows' Eve!”
A great cheer went up in the chamber. The goblin queen seized on the moment.
“Revenge at last!” she cried.
The crowd picked up the chant. “Revenge! Revenge! Revenge!”
∴
A few days later, Tiberius was walking his horse down a quiet country road in the border lands. Lord Gillyian rode along beside him. After returning the ship back to his own lands, he’d ridden out again for a bit of ‘sport’ as he called it. So far he’d been disappointed. It was harvest time, late October. It should have been prime time for hunting goblins. But here on the outlying farms it was as quiet and peaceful a scene of country life as you could ask for. It was more like something out of an old French painting than the constant skirmishing he’d been expecting.
Gillyian stopped and took a deep breath of the country air. “Where on earth have the goblins gone to? I thought you said there would be good hunting out here?”
Tiberius felt a vague disquiet, despite the peaceful, pastoral setting. “It’s usually a busy time. Goblins like to raid while there’s something to raid. These farms should all be practically under siege at this time of year.”
Gillyian looked ahead down the road to the nearest farm. A Ranger was there but he was off his horse chatting to the farmer's comely daughter. “That doesn’t look like much of a siege to me,” Gillyian said. “At least he’s found something worth hunting.”
Tiberius ignored Gillyian’s quip and rode up towards the Ranger. The soldier suddenly came to attention as he spotted Tiberius and Lord Gillyian approaching.
“Sir!” he said, saluting abruptly.
“At ease, soldier. I gather everything is very quiet.”
“Yes, sir. Quiet as can be.”
Tiberius gave another worried glance towards the forest. “It shouldn’t be this quiet. The goblins should be raiding everywhere. Did they swear off beer and pumpkins?” He turned back to face the farm girl.
“Nothing missing? No chickens, no pigs, no kegs of beer?”
“No, M’lord,” she said. “It’s the best year in ages.”
“None of your neighbors talking of trouble or theft?” Tiberius pressed.
“Well Master Tim stole an apple pie, but he’s always one for mischief. I don’t suppose we’ll haul him off to Lord Darras for that.”
Tiberius smiled. “No, that’s not the sort of theft we’re looking for.”
A young boy carrying some wood came by and spoke up. “I found a bogey camp the other day.”
Tiberius snapped around to look at him. “What’s that, you say?”
“Now, don’t bother the wizard over your bird's nest, Paul,” the farm girl chided.
“It wasn’t a bird’s nest; they were bogies for sure.” He pulled a bit of fur out of his pocket. “Look at that if you don’t believe me.”
Tiberius glanced at the boy’s trophy. It was a thin collection of stray fur, but it looked about right for bogey fur. “Where did you find this?”
“I was out picking berries and I came across a bogey camp in the forest nearby,” he said.
“Then why are you still alive?” the girl asked.
“The bogies were gone. I’m not so stupid I’d go up to a camp full of live ones.”
“Can you take us there?” Tiberius asked.
“I think so; I’d have to ask Pa,” said the boy.
“We’ll ask him together,” Tiberius replied.
A few minutes later they were up in the woods looking over a rather nondescript patch of earth. Still, even an untrained eye could make out a few roughly assembled pine beds. Gillyian circled carefully around the camp, in an ever widening circle. Tiberius shone his truth light on a few patches of ground, which Gillyian acknowledged with a nod of appreciation.
“The lad’s right. There were bogies here a few days ago. You can see the farm from here if you’ve got keen eyes. They probably figured on nipping off a few sheep. They weren’t here long though. That’s what’s got me stumped.”
“How is that?” asked Tiberius.
Gillyian pointed towards a few innocuous scratches on the ground that he called tracks. “They headed off to the east. Why? They didn’t steal anything. There’s nothing here but a few bones and bits of fur, so they didn’t leave in a hurry. They weren’t chased off. Why leave?”
Tiberius was thoughtful as he leaned on his staff. “Everything quiet where there should be lots of activity. Then the only trail we do find heads back vaguely towards the queen’s nest. I wonder if she could be planning something?”
“An open battle? Not likely,” Gillyian said. “Goblins like easy victories and they’re not especially good at siege warfare. The queen knows she doesn’t have the strength to take a city from the Stewardship. Unless you think they are going to have help from across the river?”
“No, not with the dwarves on the offense,” Tiberius pondered. “Still, she might be desperate enough to try something bold.” He stood looking towards the east for a long moment. Then he made up his mind. “Let’s get a little closer.”
“You’ll be going right up to the queen’s doorstep if you go much deeper into the woods from here,” the Ranger warned. “Lord Brandon’s given strict orders against patrols going into the Black Hills.”
“Since when do wizards obey orders?” Gillyian countered.
“I did promise my friend here a bit of goblin hunting,” Tiberius smiled. “If you’re still up for it.”
“Sounds dangerous, maybe even suicidal,” Gillyian replied. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“You’re mad, the two of you,” the Ranger said.
“Sanity is another elusive quality in wizards,” Gillyian said.
Tiberius just got on his horse. “Tell the captain where we’ve gone. We’ll be back when we know something.”
∴
In another part of the woods, Welby and his squad had found a small country tavern to shelter in for the night. He sat by the fire over a pint enjoying the unexpected peace and quiet. He almost didn’t notice the man coming up beside him.
“As I live and breathe, if it ain’t old Welby,” said a familiar voice.
Welby looked up to see an old associate from his days in the Green Woods. Joe was thinner than he remembered; his face looking worn.
“Hello, Joe, it’s been a while hasn’t it?”
“I heard you’d taken the Queen’s shilling,” Joe said. “I didn’t believe it when I heard it, but here you are,” Joe said, fingering the Ranger’s tunic Welby wore.
Welby wondered where this was going. Last he had heard, Joe was still in the bandit gangs.
“Times change,” Welby said. “The law has come to the border lands. I like to be on the winning side.”
Joe’s voice dropped down low. “Winds change all the time Welby. You did me a good turn a couple of times. I like to even the score. Might be time to take a few days off. Leave of absence for you health, if you get my drift.”
Welby looked sharply at Joe now. “What are you talking about?”
“Keep your voice down,” Joe whispered. “It’s worth my life breathing a word like this to anyone. But I owe you, Welby. Anyways, I’m not saying nothing. Just that you’re looking a bit pale is all. You could take a few days off. A week or so maybe, away from here. Like I said, it will be good for your health.”
“Listen, Joe, if you know something...”
Joe looked frightened now. “I’ve said too much already. It’s worth my life, Welby! We were born and bred here. We know the queen is real power around here. I can’t say more; she’ll have my life for it!”
Welby nodded. “Ok, Joe. I appreciate the healt
h advice.”
Joe slipped away. “You take that warning. Get away from here. Get away quick before All Hallows'.”
Welby watched him leave, then took a long drink. Then he got up. He had to find the captain. Something was up, something bad.
∴
Deep in the forests, a band of goblins sat around a campfire. An ugly female dropped a small bit of roasted rabbit in front of her chief, who glared at her.
“Don’t snarl at me! Be grateful you’ve got a tasty bit of rabbit the way things are going. We ought to be raiding some sheep at least, not crawling back to the rocks.”
“We be eating man flesh again soon. We’ve had orders.”
Whatever else he was going to say was cut off as he suddenly found himself jerked up into the air. He floated a few feet in the air for a second or so while everyone in the camp gasped in astonishment and wonder. A second later he flew across the forest; his brief flight ended abruptly when his body smashed into a large sturdy tree. The rest of the goblins stood staring for a moment. Then another of the warriors suddenly fell over dead with an arrow sticking in his throat. A couple of seconds later another one died.
Someone glanced at the arrow. “Elves and wizards! Run!”
There was pandemonium in the camp as a couple of more arrows hit. Goblins were scrambling for cover and generally running for their lives.
A few hundred yards away, Gillyian put down his bow.
“They’ll be back shortly with reinforcements,” he said, turning to Tiberius.
“We'd best hurry then,” Tiberius said. They quickly jogged over to the goblin camp where they found the goblin chief still unconscious by the base of the tree he'd been slammed into. Gillyian took the knife and sword from the stunned goblin. As the goblin chief came to, Tiberius gestured again, and the goblin slid up the side of the tree.
“What do you know about the queen’s plans?” Tiberius asked him.
The goblin gasped for air. “I tell you nothing!” he snarled. He was starting to panic though. It was hard to breathed in the wizard’s telekinetic grip.
Tiberius gave a loud laugh. “I already know everything! I’m just a bit curious how much she trusts her little minions.”
The goblin looked startled. “You know about…” He cut off his words but not his thoughts.
“Her pathetic little raid on Halloween? I know everything! Did she bother telling you the target?”
The goblin stared at the wizard, his eyes wide with astonishment. How could they know about the raid already? Who had blabbed? The wizard knew more than he did apparently, the queen hadn’t told anyone the exact target yet. Just to gather towards the south before Halloween. The wizard seemed to know it all.
The goblin's panicked deliberations ended with a thump as the wizard released his telekinetic grip and let him crash down to the forest floor.
Tiberius stood looking over him in disgust. “I guess that’s all you know.”
A second later Tiberius was slightly startled to see an arrow emerge from the goblin’s chest. Gillyian shot him straight through the heart, instantly killing the goblin. Tiberius spun around and glared at Gillyian.
Gillyian shrugged back at him. “Sorry. I thought you said you were done with him.”
“I suppose so, but did you have to kill our prisoner?” Tiberius said.
Gillyian shouldered his bow; “I thought you might get it into your head to do something noble and foolish like letting him go. Killing a goblin in cold blood is a job for an elder who really knows and understands what a goblin is. They are all going back to hell sooner or later, so why not sooner?”
Tiberius tried to think of something to say, but Gillyian just came and put a hand on his shoulder and smiled.
“You’ve grown up so much since I first met you, but in some ways you are still very young. I only hate goblins because I know them. Anyway, we’d better get a move on or there is going to be more senseless killing, which you so rightly abhor.”
“Were you able to read his mind?” Gillyian asked, as they mounted their horses.”
“It worked; I can read surface thoughts when I make the effort. Telling him I knew everything brought the plan to his mind. He didn’t know much. Just that he’s been ordered back to join in a raid. They plan to attack on Halloween, to the south apparently.”
In spite of himself, Gillyian looked at the dead goblin and worried. “Could he have been concealing things from you? Maybe we should have kept him alive for a deeper probe.”
“Anything more than surface thoughts takes a lot of time and skill. Very unreliable too. It’s easy to mix fact and fantasy,” Tiberius explained.
“Halloween … that doesn’t give us much time,” Gillyian pondered as they began to ride.
“I know,” Tiberius replied, and Gillyian noted the hooves on their horses started to glow with a blue flame.
∴
Back at Vonair, Lord Brandon was finishing another long day. It should have been routine, but the reports coming in were now anything but routine. Something was up and it worried him. Harvest time had been a running battle with the goblins and other dark fairy folk as long as he had been Lord of Vonair. Last year had been pretty intense, as the goblins struggled to steal enough of the harvest to get through the winter. The start of this month had been no different.
Suddenly, everything had stopped. At first he’d ignored it. It could have been so many innocent things: a late messenger, the goblins taking the day off, who knew? But it had been a few days now and everything had gone quiet. Too quiet, Brandon laughed to himself. He never thought that cliché was possible. But now that he faced it, it was the only way to describe the situation. It wasn’t like the goblins, and it had to mean they were up to something. Probably something not good for him, though a slim part of his mind held out hope that it was some sort of internal strife. He’d heard some rumors the goblins were growing unhappy with their queen. All the same something was up. He could feel it.
He stared at the map stretched out in a corner of the Great Hall. It was covered with wooden chits representing the positions of his patrols. Darras and Tiberius were already out. El Gato was due to leave in the morning. He wondered where to send him, when the man walked in and saluted.
“What news, Captain?”
“Nothing to report, M’lord. Everything is still very quiet.”
“I don’t like this at all,” Lord Brandon said to El Gato. “None of our patrols have encountered any resistance. They should be desperate now. We’ve been on their heels all summer. They’ve got to be running out of food. With winter closing in they’ve got to do something.”
“I’ll bet someone’s making a move on the queen. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before this,” El Gato said.
“That’s possible, but…” Lord Brandon checked his thoughts. Lord Darras had just walked into the room unexpectedly, with one of his Rangers in tow. Welby, wasn’t it? He was one of the men they’d turned from the old Green Woods gangs. Maybe here was news at last.
“I thought you should hear this M’lord,” Darras said. “Welby was approached by one of his old associates.”
Lord Brandon looked expectantly at Welby, who cleared his throat nervously before speaking.
“We were having dinner in a local tavern on the border. Thought we might get a bit of news. Everything had been so quiet. I had an old friend come up to me and suggest that I take a few days off for my health. He owes me a favor and apparently he thinks something is up.”
“We’ve had a few other hints and tips too,” Darras said. “All the bandit gangs are on alert. There’s an urgent call out for mercenaries and I don’t think it’s assassins this time.”
Brandon pressed his hands down on the table. “The bitch queen is up to something all right,” he said. “Some sort of raid or attack. I just wish I knew more. We’d better alert the towns and militias. Maybe even evacuate Lychester?”
“Any sign of Tiberius?”
“One of my men reported tha
t he and Lord Gillyian went scouting closer to the Black Hills.” Lord Darras said.
“Here, M’lord,” Tiberius said, suddenly striding into the chamber as if on cue.
Lord Brandon looked up expectantly. Tiberius was looking more worn than usual. “Well?”
“Forgive my appearance, M’lord. I came as fast as I could. It is as we feared. The goblins are gathering their remaining forces. Everything they can on this side of the river. They are planning a massive raid on the eve of All Hallows. I took the news directly from the mind of a goblin chief.”
“Halloween?! That’s only three days away! The Rangers can’t handle that many at once,” Lord Brandon said grimly. “We’ll just have to button down until we can get reinforcements. Maybe now those bureaucrats back in the capital will authorize a siege of her fortress in the Black Hills. As it is, we barely have time to alert the townsfolk. If we send messengers now, they should have time to make a run towards the fortress at Vonair…”
“With respect, sir, I think that’s what she’s counting on,” Tiberius said. “They can’t win a stand up fight against the army of the Stewardship. This has to be a raid in force, fast and bloody. She’ll expect us to retreat back to strongholds. With us locked up in towers, she can help herself to whatever goods and grain are stored out in the country. We won’t be able to move enough food into shelters in time.”
“What choice do we have? I can’t give battle with just the Rangers. If I call up the county militia, where do I send them? We can’t defend every village. On such short notice how can I defend anything?”
Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius) Page 32
