AGoblin'sTale

by Scott

  The cave was easily large enough for the hobgoblin to enter, but it looked muddy and dark inside. He leaned into it but couldn’t get a good glimpse of what lay within. Well, the trail of the creature led directly here, so this was probably the place Herad was looking for. Blacknail decided that entering the cave to check it out would be icky and too much work, so he decided to head back. After making sure he remembered how to come back here, the hobgoblin hopped up, recrossed the stream, and started back toward camp.

  As he walked, something bothered him. What was it?

  The answer came to him as he ducked under a low tree branch. It was too quiet. The birds were still singing up in the tops of the trees, but the forest seemed muted and on edge. It was probably nothing though.

  Once or twice, he thought he heard a subtle rustling noise from behind him. When that happened, he quickly turned his head to look back, but he never saw anything. He was probably imagining the noise, but just in case, he walked a bit faster. Better safe than lunch.

  Soon he was out of the swampy area and back into the forest proper, where the trees grew tall and straight. Not long after that, he made it back to camp. The hobgoblin slipped past the sentries set to watch the forest border and strolled leisurely into the bandits’ base. It wasn’t like the guards would have stopped him or anything, but there was no point in letting them see him. They probably had better things to do than watch him.

  Unsurprisingly, Herad and the others were still talking. Blacknail sighed and crept up behind Saeter to listen in. He was already kind of hungry again. All that walking had been hard work.

  “To enforce my claim, I have to get the other bands to accept it,” Herad was explaining. “To offer safe passage, I have to make sure no one dares poach my targets. The only way to make sure that doesn’t happen is to make sure the other bands know exactly how bad of an idea it would be to mess around here…”

  Boring! This was the same stuff they had been talking about when he left. He really wanted to tell Herad about how amazing of a tracker he was and how he’d found the cave she’d been looking for. That would be a much more interesting conversation, and he would probably even get a treat out of it. He didn’t want to interrupt her though. She wouldn’t like that, and when she didn’t like things, people tended to get stabbed.

  “Boss, there’s a bunch of riders approaching!” a familiar-sounding bandit yelled urgently. “They’re coming down the road fast, and they look like knights.”

  The conversation instantly stopped as everyone whirled around to look toward the speaker. Blacknail perked up and glanced that way as well. This sounded much more interesting!

  Red Dog swore as he flinched in surprise. Herad didn’t waste any time; within seconds, she had dashed toward both the shouter and the road that bordered the camp. Everyone else, including Blacknail, followed her. The hobgoblin wanted to see what all the excitement was about.

  The chieftain had reached the bandit who had yelled and was now jogging alongside her. As they moved, the camp came alive around them. The bandits weren’t always the most motivated people, but a possible enemy attack got their attention.

  Blacknail scampered up behind Herad. The dark-eyed bandit chieftain was now standing along the road and staring down it. The hobgoblin quickly spotted what she was looking at. A large group of mounted human warriors was headed their way. He counted around three dozen knights, and they looked familiar. It took the hobgoblin a few seconds of head scratching before he remembered where he’d seen them. They were the riders he’d seen out on the road when he and Saeter had been sent out to find the deserters. Red Dog had been there too.

  The knights weren’t flying a flag this time, but they were still armed and armored better than any humans Blacknail had ever seen. They held long spears, had swords at their waists, and wore a mix of chain mail and steel plate. If it came to a fight, Blacknail planned on staying as far away from them as possible and attacking from a distance.

  As the bandits watched, the riders trotted warily up the road and approached the camp. Under the vigilant eyes of the lead knight, the quickest of the bandits had already formed a loose line and were getting ready to meet them.

  In the crude wooden tower set up beside the road, men already had their bows drawn and ready. A simple barricade of sharpened stakes also blocked the road. That was good, because Blacknail was pretty sure that without it, the bandits on the ground would last just long enough to be trampled to death if the knights charged. That would be amusing to see, but it probably wouldn’t be in Blacknail’s best interest. The horses the knights were riding looked like vicious bastards. He didn’t really want to see, or smell, them from closer up.

  “Those are definitely Lord Strachan’s men,” Red Dog said in a hostile tone. “They look like the same group I reported seeing on the road southeast of here a few weeks back.”

  “The question is, what in all the hells are they doing out here?” Vorscha replied. “I’ve heard the old lord keeps mostly to himself these days, since his son died in the battle at Larceon, and I doubt they’ve been roaming the countryside for weeks looking for us. Not even nobles are that stupid.”

  Saeter grunted.“Well, whatever his reasons, they’re here now, and I would bet against them being friendly to outlaws. I’m damned sure knights are supposed to stomp out bands like ours with extreme prejudice, by royal decree.”

  “Damn right,” Red Dog said.

  Herad’s bodyguards were never too far away, and with all the sudden commotion, it didn’t take long for several of them to appear at her side. The menacing thugs gathered up behind their mistress and joined her in glaring at the approaching riders.

  “It looks like we are going to finally see exactly how weak and impotent the local lords are,” Herad remarked with dark amusement. “I said coming South would fill our pockets with gold, and it has. Now all we have to do is teach these fops that their fancy breeding means nothing.”

  Her words didn’t seem to make anyone feel better. There was a smirk on the bandit chieftain’s lips, but everyone else looked nervous.

  “We outnumber them almost ten to one,” Vorscha observed.

  “That will hardly matter if they hit us like the Hammer of Azur-Wa. You know better than most what happens when heavy cavalry hits irregulars like us. I left the army to avoid ending up like that,” Red Dog countered.

  “They don’t seem properly equipped to function as heavy stompers,” Vorscha replied. “They look more like they’ve been doing a lot of riding lately and just stumbled upon us, and they definitely don’t look eager to charge.”

  “Good,” Saeter said as he made his way over to Herad.

  As the riders got closer, their horses slowed to a steady trot. Dozens of armed bandits watched nervously as two of the horses broke away from the rest and approached the barricade.

  “Hail the camp!” the first rider yelled as he came to stop several dozen feet from the entrance to the base.

  “Identify yourselves!” Herad shouted in a commanding tone.

  There was what looked to be a brief argument between the two riders. After a few moments, the same man answered.

  “I am Sir Masnin, a paladin in service to the Order of Helio-Lustria. The man behind me is Sir Devus, the leader of a detachment of knights Lord Strachan sent to aid me in my quest,” the rider explained politely but with a steely edge to his voice.

  Herad wasn’t impressed. Her scowl deepened as she regarded the holy knight. “A paladin, eh? What brings such illustrious company such as yourself to my edge of my woods, pray tell?”

  As Blacknail listened, he tilted his head. What was a paladin? It sounded sort of like a type of dessert, but not a particularly tasty one. Maybe like one of those really fancy-looking ones that you got all excited about having but ended up tasting worse than the cheap stuff.

  “I’m here fulfilling the holy work of my order; I’m tracking an infection,” Sir Masnin told the bandit chieftain. “There was an outbreak of the dark plague in a
village to the south a while back. The plague was stopped and burnt out before it could spread, but several infected escaped into the woods. I’ve tracked them north to here, and by now, they are without doubt fully fledged ghouls.”

  “We encountered those ghouls of yours and dealt with them ourselves. They were purged with holy silver and cleansing fire, so there’s no need for you to worry yourself about them any longer,” Herad replied as she stared down the mounted paladin.

  “Then you have done the Sun God’s will, and I thank you. I will, of course, need to enter your camp, question your men, and see that all is right for myself,” Sir Masnin said in a polite tone.

  Herad eyed the paladin and the knights behind him before bursting into dark laughter. Most of the riders flinched and reached for their weapons, but Sir Masnin remained calm. His gaze never wavered from Herad’s.

  "You’re going to have to take my word for it because that’s not going to happen, pretty boy. Why don’t you ride off before you get yourself hurt?” she told him.

  The paladin opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted when the rider next to him spoke up. “We can’t trust these villains, Sir Masnin; they’re fucking bandits and honorless deserters! If we go in there, they’ll fall on us from every side while we’re distracted. There’s no reason to talk to the likes of them. Let’s just charge in there and put these mad dogs down, or turn around and come back with reinforcements. We’ll be doing the country a great boon by eliminating these scum.”

  “As long as you are seconded to my service, I expect you to follow my lead,” Sir Masnin replied coolly before turning back to Herad.

  The knight captain looked insulted but didn’t speak back up. Instead, he glowered at the bandit chieftain.

  “If you do not let me in, then I promise you will have far more to worry about than a few dozen knights and a provincial noble,” the paladin told Herad in a steely tone.

  “I’ve heard much better threats than that from much more dangerous men,” she replied dismissively.

  Neither she nor the paladin looked away. Instead, they stared at each other for what seemed like hours but was probably more like a minute.

  Eventually, Sir Masnin broke the silence. “Worldly affairs are not my concern. I am concerned only with the struggle of light against darkness and civilization versus ruination.”

  “Those men behind you seem to think otherwise,” Herad pointed out.

  “They have their responsibilities, and I have mine. Though we all struggle to perform our duties, they do not always lead us in the same direction. I beg permission to enter your camp alone as an honored guest,” the paladin responded.

  “You can’t be serious!” Sir Davus hissed in alarm, but everyone ignored him.

  Herad laughed again and smiled with obvious amusement. “Why not? I’ve never had an honored guest before.”

  She waved to the archers up in the tower, and they lowered their weapons. Sir Masnin took the opportunity to dismount and pass his reins to his companion. A few seconds later, he was walking past the barricade and the bandits behind it without apparent fear. He might as well have been taking a stroll through a garden for all the concern that showed on his face. Blacknail kind of wanted to poke him and see what happened.

  As the paladin approached Herad, he drew his blade. Her bodyguards tensed, but Sir Masnin flipped it around and carefully presented the hilt to her.

  “Keep it,” Herad said as she motioned him forward and smiled viciously. “Everyone else here is armed to the teeth anyway.”

  Chapter 32

  The paladin, Sir Masnin, cautiously followed Herad deeper into her camp. He got a few hostile glares, but most of the bandits seemed more concerned about the squad of angry-looking riders parked in front of the entrance to their base than the single man following their leader on foot. Few, if any, of them thought of him as a threat to their chief. She had a certain reputation after all.

  Like most of the bandits, Red Dog and the other lieutenants seemed focused on watching the knights at their gate. They were arguing about how best to fight the riders, but Blacknail didn’t care about that. The knights were just sitting on their horses and glowering at everything and everyone nearby. That was really boring to watch, and Blacknail didn’t want to look at their ugly, smelly horses anyway.

  Somehow, these horses looked even more arrogant and mean than most. The hobgoblin wanted to throw a rock at the one in the lead to show it who was boss. He held back though, because that would probably lead to a misunderstanding and get him in trouble.

  No, it was the paladin who interested Blacknail. The riders were standing still, but he was moving around and stuff. He was sure Herad and her guest would soon do something exciting, and he planned to be there when it happened. Blacknail heard snippets of their conversations as he stalked them through the camp. The hobgoblin kept his distance though; he wanted to keep out of sight. If Herad noticed him, then she might send him away, and that would be no fun.

  The paladin threw a quick look over his shoulder, and Blacknail ducked out of sight behind a tent. After a few seconds of looking around, Sir Masnin apparently didn’t see anything suspicious because he frowned and turned back to Herad.

  The bandit chieftain led the paladin around the camp for a few more minutes. The only place Herad didn’t take him was inside Mahedium’s workshop. After the tour was complete, she showed him the scarred circle of earth where the burnt remains of the ghouls and everything they had touched were buried. Of course, they didn’t find anything of interest. If any ghoul bits or infection was still present, the hobgoblin would have smelled it long ago. He was the best, and only, ghoul sniffer around.

  Blacknail slipped up beside a small group of bandits so he wouldn’t stand out. From there, he could get a good view of what was going on.

  Masnin was standing on the filled-in pit. The dirt below his feet was dry and grey, and nothing had started to grow there yet. “Hmmm, I’m quite surprised your… group handled this as well as you did.” The paladin examined the large circle of broken earth. “You don’t seem well equipped to deal with an outbreak like this. Much smaller packs of the accursed things have been the bane of cities.”

  “Those cities didn’t have my leadership. I kept order here, and we have a few old hands who have dealt with the dark plague before. They knew a few useful tricks,” Herad explained as she drew a dagger and nimbly twirled it through her fingers.

  Hey, what was this now? Blacknail scowled. Why hadn’t she mentioned him? He had done more than anyone else to get rid of all the ghoul gunk and find the stupid humans who had gotten it all over themselves!

  “Still, it is very impressive,” Sir Masnin replied as he glanced around the camp.

  “Then you’re easily impressed, because this is nothing compared to what I’m really capable of,” Herad remarked smugly.

  “Yes, I think I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Herad the Black Snake. Unfortunately, most of it was far from complimentary.” The paladin frowned in disapproval.

  Herad gave him an amused smile. “Nobody’s perfect, and you know how inaccurate the rumor mill gets.”

  “Perhaps. Anyway, it certainly seems like everyone here is healthy. I’m a little concerned about that man over there though. He has had his hood up and a scarf across face the entire time I’ve been here,” Sir Masnin said as he pointed Blacknail's way.

  The hobgoblin went stiff as a board as the paladin singled him out. How had the man seen him? He’d been at his sneakiest! Maybe he needed to dirty up his clothes some more so they didn’t stand out. Most of the nearby humans’ clothes were grimier than his.

  Herad didn’t bother to turn and look toward where the paladin was pointing; she knew who it was. “Oh him, he’s just butt ugly. He hates showing people his face, and trust me, you don’t want to see it. You don’t have to worry about him being sick.”

  Blacknail scowled. That was totally not the reason he wore his hood up most of the time! There was nothing wrong with hi
s handsome green face. Surely, she could have come up with a better excuse…

  “I see. I guess I’ll take your word for it,” the man remarked doubtfully.

  “Indeed, you’re going to have to.” There was a cold edge under her pleasant tone.

  Judging by the doubtful look on his face, Sir Masnin was clearly unconvinced by her explanation and more than a little suspicious of the cloaked figure. He didn’t appear ready to press the issue though. Either Herad’s behavior or the fact that he was completely surrounded by violent, armed bandits had him worried.

  “Everything appears to be in order then. Thank you for permitting me entry and destroying the ghouls I was tracking. Your efforts have helped spread the light of Helio-Lustria,” Sir Masnin told Herad as he gave her a slight polite bow.

  The bandit chieftain smiled in amusement. She brushed a few strands of dark hair out from in front of her eyes. “That’s me, I’m a bloody saint.”

  “One does not need to be perfect to walk in the god of light’s illumination, and it’s never too late to devote your life to him,” Sir Masnin explained reverently.

  “Trying to tempt me away from a life of crime, eh? I think I’d rather just stay here and rob people for a living. It pays better and it seems like a lot more fun,” Herad countered.

  “As you wish. I have seen everything I need to see, and with your permission, I shall take my leave,” the paladin told her.

  “Maybe I don’t want you to leave. I think I like having a handsome young knight such as you in my power. What do you think about that?” Herad asked Sir Masnin as she leaned closer to him and smiled.

  “Um…” the red-faced paladin stuttered as her words threw him off balance.

  “I could definitely find a use for you and that sword of yours. Perhaps you’d like to stay a little longer?” Herad licked her lips.

  The paladin’s eyes widened. Blacknail could hear the rapid pounding of the man’s heartbeat from where he stood.