by Scott
Saeter noticed Blacknail examining the stones and walked up behind him. “These stones were put here. They’re too old for men, and they’re not the Flore Kurava’s style. The forest people don’t work stone. That means this circle was put here by goblins. Maybe even ancestors of yours.”
Blacknail removed his hand from the stone. The idea that this… special place had been made by goblins felt right. The stones, and the way they were arranged, spoke to him. It had meaning, even if Blacknail couldn't tell what the meaning was supposed to be.
He looked into the clear blue sky. The thought that goblins had created something that had lasted so long resonated with the hobgoblin. The idea of making things such as this had never even occurred to him.
He turned to his master. “Thank you, master.”
Saeter eyed him curiously, and a corner of his mouth rose to form a smirk. “For what?”
“Everything.” Blacknail turned back to the stone and touched it again.
Red Dog stomped over and interrupted them. He looked annoyed, and there was a frustrated scowl on his face. “Great, so not only do we have to sleep beside a bloody hobgoblin, but we're also setting up camp in some sort of creepy goblin shrine thing, It's probably where they buried all the people they killed."
“We could try to find a different spot if you want—you’re the boss—but this one seems better than most. That is, of course, unless on top of your fear of hobgoblins, you’re also afraid of ghosts?” Saeter joked.
“It sure doesn’t sound like I’m the boss,” Red Dog grumbled as he walked past them and began helping set up.
It didn’t take them a lot of time to set up for the night. They had been traveling light. Beyond the basic gear and weapons, all they had brought were blankets and a large tarp in case it rained.
Red Dog didn’t allow anyone to light a fire until it got dark. He wanted no chance of them being detected, and a fire during the day would be too much of a risk. The smoke would be visible for miles.
As night fell, Blacknail could smell some of the new recruits grow nervous. It wasn’t a great smell. For many of them, it was their first time out in the woods at night in such a small group. The fact that they didn’t have a fire, but did have bad human night vision, probably didn’t help either.
“Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice coming North, especially after days like today. Sure, it was the easiest place to escape the draft to, but maybe I should have tried to go West,” a bandit mused. “They don’t give a fuck about what the King of Eloria says out there.”
“I’d say you’re lucky you didn’t. The western border is well watched, because the people out that way are insane. The forest is just as dangerous, but the peasants are superstitious and worship demons. They say that some villages eat strangers and that their nobles bathe in human blood,” another bandit replied with a shiver.
“What do you expect from inbred bastards who isolate themselves from the rest of civilization?” a third man added.
“You’re getting too loud! Keep it down,” Red Dog ordered everyone, and that ended the conversation.
When the night sky had blackened enough to completely mask any smoke, Red Dog lit a fire in the center of the boulders. He kept it small enough that it was unlikely anyone would see it through the trees.
The fire helped a little, but a lot of the men still seemed nervous. Blacknail didn’t blame them. He didn’t like camping in the forest much either. The shadowy forest and reaching tree branches might be concealing any number of threats, and unlike most of the men here, he knew exactly what to be afraid of. As a hobgoblin, he might be larger than before, but most of the hungry beasts that lived in the woods would barely notice the difference. He would simply be a slightly more filling snack.
Between the aura of fear and the heavy watch Red Dog insisted on, few people got much rest that night. Many of the bandits slept fretfully and were awake much of the night.
Blacknail slept more than he had planned. He found the presence of the ancient stones encircling their camp soothing for some reason. They loomed over him reassuringly when he settled down to rest. As he closed his eyes, he could still sense them standing guard.
Eventually, the long night ended and dusk broke across the sky. Those few who were still sleeping were awakened, and the group packed up and headed out to complete their mission. They followed the road but stuck to the edges of the bush so that anyone watching would have a hard time seeing them. The party was split in two, with one group on each side of the road, so that they wouldn’t miss anything. Saeter led one group, and Red Dog the other.
“What’s that?” one of the new recruits asked as he pointed at a spot beside the road.
Everyone immediately looked in the direction he indicated, including Blacknail.
“Looks like a trashed wagon. Let’s check it out,” another bandit replied.
“Wait a second. First we’ll search the area to see if anyone is watching,” Saeter told them.
At the old scout’s command, the bandits continued on past the wagon, through the woods. When they didn’t find anyone or anything, Saeter stepped out onto the road and looked around.
“I don’t see any good vantage points nearby, so we should be unobserved,” he told everyone.
He ordered several men to cross the road and fetch Red Dog while he and the others headed back to check out the wagon. Its remains were partly concealed from the road by a small overgrown hill, which they had to go around. When they got to the wagon, Blacknail immediately smelled blood—human blood. The wagon itself was badly damaged, nothing but a pile of broken wood that had been stripped of everything useful.
Red Dog and his group arrived and joined them around the wreck.
“Well, this was sure a waste of time,” one of the bandits commented.
“No, it wasn’t. I’m willing to bet this is the work of our highwaymen. This looks like a farmer or small merchant’s wagon. That would be an inviting target for them,” Saeter replied.
“How does that help us?” someone asked.
“We know they were here not too long ago, so now we need to track them back to their lair,” Saeter explained as he examined the wagon and the ground around it. After a minute, the old scout straightened up and turned to Blacknail. “Do you have a scent?”
“Yes, one of them bleeds,” Blacknail replied. He smiled eagerly as the scent of blood and his master’s attention excited him. It was time for him to be useful and hunt!
“That makes this almost too easy,” Saeter said as he smiled back.
“Bloody creepy is what it is,” another bandit muttered.
“Just be glad he’s on our side,” someone else whispered, but not so softly that Blacknail couldn’t hear them.
The hobgoblin’s smile widened. That was what he wanted the humans to think—that they were better off with him on their side. Soon he would have them all well-trained.
“So you can track them?” Red Dog asked.
Saeter huffed indignantly. “I can track practically anyone or anything. They left plenty of signs, and with Blacknail’s nose, this will be as easy as falling off a log.”
“Good, then you and your pet can lead the way,” Red Dog told him.
Blacknail hissed softly at the disrespect in the man’s voice, but he suppressed the sudden flare of rage and didn’t act on it further. That didn’t stop the two men closest to him from backing away a few steps though.
Red Dog was apparently unconcerned about the hobgoblin, but Saeter gave Blacknail a disapproving look. The hobgoblin looked to the side and felt his cheeks burn slightly with shame. He had let his emotions get the better of him for a second. Why was controlling them so hard?
“Let’s get going,” Red Dog told everyone.
Saeter led them across the road and into the forest once again. The rest of the bandits followed him and Blacknail. As they moved, the old scout pointed out signs to the hobgoblin, like broken twigs and partial boot prints. Blacknail found it intere
sting but almost unnecessary, since he could simply follow their prey’s scent. Saeter had to stop and look around for tracks every once in a while, but Blacknail never lost the trail. His master seemed to want to track the highwaymen himself though, because he only asked for Blacknail’s help once.
The iron-like scent of blood grew stronger as they walked deeper into the woods, until Blacknail felt a twinge of concern grow in his gut.
“More blood,” he whispered to Saeter.
His master frowned in concern as well, but they continued moving forward. The forest here was mostly clear of bushes and tall plants, but it was hilly and large twisted roots jutted out from the bottoms of nearby tree trunks. There were plenty of places for something to lurk outside Blacknail’s vision.
They soon found the source of the smell. Up ahead, lying on the forest floor, was a shredded human corpse. It took a few seconds to identify it as the remains of a man. It was little more than a pile of bloody flesh and broken bones.
One of the bandits gasped as he went white and began to panic. “Shit. This wasn’t done by no man.”
Behind Blacknail, Red Dog calmly drew his sword and leveled it at the panicked speaker’s throat. “If you can’t keep your shit together, then just shut up and stay fucking still, or you’ll regret it.” Then he turned to Saeter, who had crouched to examine the body. “What are we dealing with?”
“Hopefully nothing because it filled its stomach and left. This mess is definitely the work of a troll though,” Saeter answered.
“Damnation,” Red Dog said. “I fucking hate trolls. Every time I run into one, someone dies.”
Chapter 23
“Could be worse. It could have been a drake,” Saeter told Red Dog. “Trolls are smaller and will rarely attack a group of armed men this big, especially if they’ve just eaten. As long as we don’t trip over the damned thing, we should be fine. This one must have followed the same blood trail as Blacknail and picked off the bleeder.”
Looks of terror appeared on some of the bandits’ faces, and several of them threw nervous glances at the surrounding woods. The thick tree trunks and uneven ground of the forest could easily have been concealing an approaching threat.
“What’s a troll? I mean, I’ve heard of them, but I never actually expected to see one, or have one see me,” one of the new recruits asked nervously.
Saeter gave the man a disdainful look but answered him. “Trolls have twin fangs the size of long knives and thick skin that doesn’t bleed unless you pretty much decapitate them. Except for that, they’re basically what you would get if you took a goblin and made it twice the size of a man and a hundred times as angry.”
“Bloody lovely…” one of the other bandits muttered sarcastically.
Saeter got up and examined the ground all around the corpse. He called Blacknail over and showed the hobgoblin various signs within the disturbed area. The hobgoblin found this much more interesting than his earlier tracking lessons. His sense of smell didn’t help him nearly as much here.
“It looks like there were three men here. The troll came down on them fast. It killed the wounded one, and his friends made a run for it. It doesn’t look like the troll followed them. Instead it ate its fill, then headed off back into the woods,” Saeter told Red Dog.
The leader looked thoughtful as he considered their options. He didn’t seem concerned about the troll and, in fact, seemed quite calm. “We should be good to just follow them back to their camp then. Will they still be on alert?”
“Hard to say. I’m guessing the troll attack happened last night, which is enough time that I would feel safe. I doubt these guys are used to the forest though, so I'd bet they didn't get much sleep last night,” Saeter answered.
“And we did?” someone muttered doubtfully behind Blacknail.
“We’ll go carefully then, and when we find the camp, we’ll circle around. They’ll undoubtedly be watching the direct way—for trolls, if nothing else,” Red Dog said as Saeter nodded.
“I’ll take Blacknail and scout the path ahead then. We’ll take out or mark any sentries so you and the others can approach unseen,” Saeter suggested.
“Sounds good,” Red Dog replied.
“Come, Blacknail. It’s time for me to teach you the more violent parts of the ranger’s trade. I have a feeling you’ll pick it up quickly,” Saeter said as he shrugged off his backpack and handed it to another bandit.
Blacknail chuckled and licked his lips. This sounded like so much fun! He could think of nothing he would rather do than stalk unsuspecting prey through the woods with the scent of blood in the air. His heart pounded in excitement just thinking about it.
“Thank you-ss so much, master,” he replied eagerly as a wicked grin stretched across his face.
A few seconds later, the hunt was on. Saeter slipped through the trees so quietly that even Blacknail had difficulty hearing him. The hobgoblin followed in his master’s wake and tried to be just as silent. To his own ears, he wasn’t quite successful, but with his boots removed, he moved quietly enough that Saeter didn’t complain.
The hobgoblin instinctively knew how to balance himself and where to place his bare feet to avoid breaking twigs and other obstacles. After so long of walking in boots, the cool earth and wet grass felt soothing beneath his feet. The thrill of the hunt he was feeling was more than worth the long walk it had taken to get here.
As Saeter and Blackail moved through the forest, it changed. The canopy overhead grew thinner until light leaked through. Thick clusters of green bushes sprouted up in the abundant sunlight, which helped hide the pair from prying eyes. Ahead of Blacknail, Saeter moved out from behind a mossy boulder to peer at a trampled plant. Having confirmed that he was still on the right track, the scout moved again. He stalked through the bush from cover to cover, checking for signs of their targets.
An impressed Blacknail observed and tried to copy his master’s movements. How could Saeter move so quietly and track without using his nose? It almost seemed like magic. The hobgoblin watched his master examine the surrounding forest while crouched behind a bush. After a minute, Saeter raised a hand and signaled Blacknail.
Before they had headed out to track down the deserters, Saeter had made him memorize several different hand signals. Blacknail had instantly realized how useful they would be for communicating without making any noise. His master was surely a genius for coming up with such a great idea! Blacknail was sure nothing like it would ever have occurred to him.
Saeter had three raised fingers, which meant someone might be around. Slowly and carefully, so as not to attract attention, the hobgoblin bent and took cover at the base of the tree beside him. A flash of excitement burned through Blacknail at the thought of finally cornering their quarry. His mouth moistened with saliva in anticipation, but he obeyed his master and remained where he was.
However, he couldn’t resist the urge to peek out and look for whatever Saeter had seen. Blacknail eagerly scanned the forest for signs but was disappointed when he didn’t see anything or anyone among the leafy branches or rough-barked tree trunks around him. He wanted to hunt! His teeth ached, and his tongue flicked out and over his teeth to clean them in preparation.
He shivered as he felt a seductive feeling similar to rage burn within him. It filled him with a hunger for action and blood. Blacknail had to close his eyes and focus on mentally picturing sword exercises to suppress the urges. He knew discipline would make him stronger than rage or hunger ever could, but why did it have to be so hard?
A few seconds later, after Blacknail had managed to get his urges under control, he opened his eyes to see Saeter flashing more signals his way. The first signal told Blacknail to look to his left, and the next meant he wanted Blacknail to wait and watch. With a regretful sigh, the hobgoblin resigned himself to spending the next little while waiting and not hunting. His master could be so cruel!
As Saeter stealthily moved, Blacknail looked in the direction his master had indicated. He still didn
’t see anything. Saeter stopped beside a large smooth tree trunk and signaled Blacknail again. He wanted the hobgoblin to carefully circle the target from the opposite direction.
Blacknail smiled as he got up and obeyed. Finally, a chance to act! Excitedly, he crept forward while looking for his prey. As he was walking to a large jagged rock, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye up on a nearby hill. Instantly, the cloaked hobgoblin went totally still and his eyes focused on that spot. He watched and noticed something brown and human-sized move ever so slightly. It was mostly hidden behind a tree, so he slipped around the boulder to get a better view.
It was a man! The human was scanning the forest from a high viewpoint while leaning against a tree. He had on a large brown cloak, and under that, he was wearing a bright blue shirt and black pants. The clothes confused Blacknail. He couldn’t think of a good reason for wearing the blue shirt. Did the man want to be seen? Was it some sort of trap?
Blacknail threw a look at his master. Saeter noticed the glance and raised two fingers in another sign. Two fingers meant… there was another man nearby. Blacknail hastily flashed the “where?” sign.
His master pointed up at another spot on the hill, then gestured to himself to show ownership. He pointed at the man Blacknail could see, then back at the hobgoblin. Blacknail grinned and licked his lips. His master was going to take one of the men, and he wanted Blacknail to take the other. What a wonderful present his master had just given him!
The hobgoblin watched the sentry on the hill until the man looked away. Then unseen, Blacknail slipped out from behind the rock and crept forward along a path up the hill that was mostly concealed from the man’s view. He was practically purring with joy.
Soon, the hobgoblin was close enough he could smell the human, and he shivered in anticipation. He circled around the hill and climbed it from the side. It was steep, but there were plenty of exposed roots to use as footholds. This would be so much fun!
