Goblin Apprentice

by Gerhard Gehrke

  Keeping his head low, Spicy ran to the front of the boat. He almost tripped on his robe and hiked it up in his hands. The bow line was far ahead of them and the only sign of Hog was her wake. He called her name. She didn’t reply. He climbed up and leaned over the bow and tugged at the rope with all his might.

  Another arrow had set a bundle of sails on fire. Fath wasn’t moving and only stared at the flames.

  Spicy grabbed the burning bundle and pitched it over.

  A boat came across the surface of the sea straight at them. Its oars looked like the legs of some monstrous water bug as they slapped the waves in a smooth, rhythmic motion. At the front of the boat stood Alma, her white hair unmistakable. A lamp burned at her feet. She was readying another arrow. She dipped the tip of the missile in the flame and aimed straight at Spicy. He dove to the deck but the arrow didn’t come. Spicy peeked. The boat was sailing past them and the woman was scanning the water.

  There were bubbles coming from below. He saw Hog under the surface, swimming upward.

  “Stay down under the water!” Spicy yelled.

  He picked up the lid of the barrel. With all his might, he threw it. It sailed over the water and almost hit Alma. Her arrow misfired and hissed as it struck the waves, its flame extinguished. Without a word she rapidly reloaded. This time she pointed the bow in Spicy’s direction. He ducked down again. Her arrow pierced the side of the boat and its tip emerged near his face.

  Hog erupted up out of the water.

  Spicy dared look. “Go back down! She has fire!”

  Hog ejected water from her mouth. “Fire?” she asked. She didn’t seem to understand what was happening.

  The other boat was past them now and out of Hog’s reach. Alma was pointing and shouting at the men on board her boat. She was running to the stern, a burning arrow in her grip.

  “Dive down now!” Spicy cried.

  Fath raised his head to peer over the side. “Tell your monster to do something.”

  The troll sank into the water. Spicy got down as Alma drew back on her bow. He could only hope that Hog had submerged in time. But then he watched in horror as an arrow struck Fath in the eye. The dragon screamed. He thrashed and twisted. His tail knocked against the mast and almost snapped it in half.

  Spicy had to press himself against the deck to avoid getting crushed.

  Fath howled in agony. Dark blood dribbled from the wound. But as he swayed about and tried to dislodge the arrow, a second missile caught him in the chest.

  “Fath, get down!” Spicy called.

  Whether Fath heard him or not, he didn’t know. But the dragon dropped hard onto the deck and writhed.

  Where was the other boat?

  Spicy chanced a glance over the bow. Alma’s boat was still moving away from them but it was slowing. It was drifting into a turn and its rowers had raised their oars. In the haze Alma was only an outline, but Spicy didn’t dare expose himself further to the lethal woman.

  He crawled to Fath. The dragon had braced itself between either side of the boat and he finally pulled the arrow from his eye socket.

  “Fath? Tell me what to do.”

  The dragon trembled and was breathing in deep gasping breaths. He began mewling, a sound that reminded Spicy of a wounded wild pig. Fath’s claw then clutched the arrow in his chest.

  “You can’t just pull it out,” Spicy said. “You’ll bleed too much. I have no way to treat your wounds.”

  The arrow came free with a soft sucking sound. Fath flung it away. Blood flowed from the wound.

  Spicy tried to lean closer and put a hand on the dragon, but Fath knocked him away. He dragged his body to the back of the ship, tremors running through his long form. With great effort, he curled up and clamped a claw over his face and ruined eye.

  The other boat still wasn’t coming closer. He heard voices from the men on board. It sounded like they were arguing. But more fog obscured Spicy’s view. He could see their burning lamp and the vessel’s outline, but even Alma was out of sight. He wouldn’t risk showing himself, so he stayed low as he scanned the water for Hog.

  How had the humans even found them? How could anyone track them over water? And Alma had been prepared to take out both Fath and Hog with the fire arrows.

  The mast still burned. An arrow in the side of the boat had set a swatch of the boat aflame. Spicy grabbed a bucket and leaned over the side to fill it, careful to shield himself from the other boat. It took several bucketfuls to extinguish the fires he could reach, but the top of the mast was lost.

  From the back of the boat the dragon groaned.

  Spicy leaned over the water. “Hog, we have to leave now while we can.”

  But she didn’t answer. There were no bubbles, no ripples, and the bow line lay slack in the water. It was only a matter of moments before the humans realized their prey was helpless. So why were they waiting? His boat had no weapons and nothing that would forestall a full assault. If the other men on the boat had joined in Alma’s attack, they’d have surely succeeded in killing them all.

  Hog’s hair swirled about just under the surface. Her face appeared and her eyes were wide. “Fire,” she groaned. She sank out of sight. Spicy hissed for her but she was gone. A stirring eddy led away from the boat and off into the mist.

  Spicy looked at the wounded dragon. “Fath? I know you’re in a lot of pain. There’s nothing I can do to help. But the men are going to come back if we don’t do anything.”

  “Leave me alone,” Fath said miserably.

  “Hog isn’t pulling us anymore. They may have frightened her off. That means it’s just us. Can you move? If they attack, what will we do?”

  The dragon murmured something in a language Spicy didn’t understand. Spicy crawled to the dragon and put his hand on the creature’s warm body.

  Fath flinched. “Don’t touch me.”

  “They have more arrows. We won’t be able to stop them if we’re just waiting here.”

  “What would you have me do? Swim? I don’t swim.”

  “How about pushing the boat using your back legs?”

  The dragon kicked him away. “Curse you and your kind.”

  Spicy’s head struck the hard wood of the mast. It took a moment to recover. He sat up and fought off dizziness.

  “My kind?” Spicy asked.

  “Men. Goblins. You’re all the same. This is the result of trusting any of you. Oh, that your kind had all perished in the great darkness. Plagues take you all. Then my world would truly be at peace. Now be silent. Your voice hurts my ears. Let me rest.”

  Spicy almost said something but kept his mouth shut. He crawled forward to the barrel upon which he had practiced writing. Surely it would be buoyant enough to keep him afloat. He pulled it to the side and threw it over. But as he prepared to jump after it, he hesitated.

  The low waves of the gray sea waited to embrace him. Take him down under the water. It was an abyss with no bottom. He would vanish forever.

  The barrel drifted away.

  He dropped back to the deck and hunkered down. He didn’t cry, although he wanted to. Like the dragon, he waited for the humans to decide when their lives would be brought to a final bloody conclusion.

  Chapter Nineteen

  She had nailed the creature in the eye. She felt no joy and said nothing. It hadn’t been a killing shot.

  The dragon continued to moan like a bear caught in a leg trap. After ordering the rowers to arrest the boat’s movement, she searched the water for signs of the troll. There was plenty of oil in the small barrel to immolate the monster when it came for them.

  But the cursed goblin had warned it off.

  Impossible. The troll was just a stupid monster that would eat man and goblin alike. Yet somehow the little gob could order the beast around. She dismissed her thoughts. They were distracting. The first monster to show its face would get an arrow.

  “It’s still alive,” Blades said.

  “I know, I hear it. I hit its eye. It’s hurt and st
uck on its boat. It’s the troll we have to watch out for. Keep alert.”

  The oarsmen were grumbling among themselves. She ignored them. When the troll had attacked their boat during her first crossing with Lord, it had been a surprise. But not this time.

  Her boat was turning. She would have to adjust her footing to keep her field of view on the enemy.

  “Turn us to starboard,” she ordered.

  Before she realized what was happening, the older sailor with the pendant grabbed her bow away and stepped back. As she moved to reach for it, he slugged her and knocked her to the deck. The arrow in her hand fell from her grip. The other oarsmen from the town were up and moving. Vine grabbed for his gear where his sword was sheathed but another man clubbed him down with an oar.

  “What are you doing?” Alma shouted. Blades stood behind her, his own short sword out and at the ready.

  The older sailor had a thin knife, which he waved in her direction. “Did you think we wouldn’t notice?” Her bow remained in his other hand. He shook it at her, the luck glyph displayed for all to see. “Did you think you could mock us with your magic as you work your evil?”

  “What are you talking about? It’s just a glyph for luck.”

  “It’s forbidden magic which offends the Divine Mother.”

  Alma’s mind raced. She got up and ignored the pain in her jaw. With palms out she said, “Look, it’s not even my bow. We took it off a mountain tribesman when we were hunting the dragon.”

  “This is no tribesman bow. You’re a liar. This whole voyage is a lie. You intend to charm those monsters, not kill them. Or perhaps they were with you all the time and the goblin stole them from you with some spell. You’re a witch.”

  A couple of the other oarsmen nodded. The others showed no signs of disagreement. One man kissed his thumb and made a sign on his chest.

  Alma almost swore but thought better of it, considering her audience. “I’m not a witch. If I was, why would I try to kill the dragon?”

  “Punishing it for leaving you? It doesn’t matter.” The old sailor flung the bow over the side.

  “When the troll comes, it’s going to kill us.”

  “There’s no sign of it. It fled. Your spell is broken. The Divine Mother has protected us.”

  As if on cue, a few of the sailors brought pendants out from under their shirts. She didn’t know how she could have missed it. All the talk of zealots was always focused on their leader, and no one had ever really thought the people of the empire actually believed.

  She took a knee.

  “What are you doing?” Blades hissed.

  “They’re right. I’m a witch. I fooled all of you in bringing us here. The goblin was my slave, and it stole my creatures away from me while I slept. I knew I’d be powerless in the light of the Divine Mother, but I thought as long as we got away from Bliss and your temple that we could once again recapture my thralls. I didn’t expect her true believers to be so powerful.”

  The old sailor continued to scowl. “You’ll burn. You and your men.”

  “Excuse me?” Blades asked.

  “Yes,” Alma said. “It’s okay, Martin. I’ve prayed for this day. It will free my soul. I beg for succor. My men were duped, and by prayer they will be free of my influence.”

  “You won’t trick us with words.”

  “No, of course not. Bind us. Bind me. Martin, put your weapon away. Now pray for me, you men of Bliss. Pray for me now. Let me hear your voice. Ask the Divine Mother that she exercise her mercy and anger, both for the sake of my soul and that of my men. Let me hear your words of faith to her. I beg you.”

  The old sailor lowered his knife a few inches.

  It was the opportunity she was waiting for. She snatched up the arrow that had fallen to her feet and drove it up into his belly. He bellowed in pain as she forced him back and flipped him over into the water. Another sailor swung his oar, but she stepped into the blow and drove her knee in below his belt. He grunted in pain. She pushed him into the closest man and ripped the oar from his grip.

  Blades vaulted over and slashed at one sailor who was backing away. But Vine had recovered. He drove his own sword into the man and shoved him aside.

  A sailor in front of Alma held two knives. She brought the oar down on top of his head. He crumpled to the deck. Three sailors remained standing. One held an oar, and two had knives.

  “You men can survive this if you drop your weapons,” Alma said.

  Blades feinted, and the sailor holding the oar swung at him but was caught off-balance as Blades sidestepped the clumsy blow. With a snarl, Blades cut him down.

  The last two sailors had nothing but fear in their eyes, as they had nowhere to go.

  “Martin, wait,” Alma said.

  But Blades kept moving. He freed his sword from the dead sailor and attacked the two men, knocking their knives aside and hacking at them. He then pitched their still-quivering forms over the side of the boat. Blood streaked his face. With perfect calm, he went to the rest of the crew and finished them off.

  Alma just watched. “We could have used them. We need rowers.”

  “Did you miss the part where they were talking about burning?”

  “It was just their leader. He was a true believer.”

  “And what was all that ‘bind me, pray for me’ nonsense? You’ve really lost your marbles out here.”

  “I was getting him to drop his guard. We didn’t have to kill all of them.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “You think everyone who lives in the delta bows to the fish god? The Divine Mother is down there too. It’s like an infection. I had to put up with it as a child.”

  Blades smirked. His white teeth contrasted with the spattered red on his cheeks. “You had an infection when you were young. Congratulations. I hope it’s cleared up, for all the men’s sake.”

  “Why your mother didn’t drown you when you were born is beyond me.”

  Vine was wiping his sword clean on the shirt of one of the dead sailors. “This burning thing he mentioned—what about Billy and Elias?”

  “They’ll be fine,” Alma said. “Take anything of worth off those bodies and dump them.”

  As the last of the sailors went into the sea, Alma scanned the water. There was still no sign of the troll. If blood didn’t draw the creature up, she didn’t know what would. But there, hovering just inches under the waves, was her bow. She used an oar to retrieve it.

  “Now what?” Blades asked.

  She removed the wet string and shook the water from the bow. “Nothing’s changed. We kill the beast and the goblin.”

  “And go back for Billy and Elias, right?” Vine asked.

  She didn’t answer. Instead she scanned the haze around them. This time she let loose a string of curses.

  The other boat had vanished.

  Chapter Twenty

  The sky around them grew dark.

  The humans hadn’t come for them but seemed to be waiting for something. And then the air carried the sounds of men arguing. Cries of pain followed.

  What was going on? Spicy raised himself erect to see, but the other boat was completely obscured by the ever-present mist. The breeze had picked up. There was a second bundled sail in the back of the boat where the dragon continued to hide, but with the mast ruined, it would be useless.

  Then the boat jerked. The bow line snapped against the water and went taut.

  “Hog?” he whispered.

  She didn’t answer but must have been lingering somewhere underneath the waves. Their boat was once again underway as the rope jerked them along. Spicy stifled a wild laugh. The sea had a current to it and they were moving along with it.

  The voices of the humans fell away. Their own boat’s passage was silent. Spicy could hardly believe they were escaping with their lives. He wanted to howl wildly, to scream in defiance of the sick gray waves and the humans who knew only murder. He thought of his sister and even for a moment imagined the possibil
ity, no matter how remote, that he might rescue Rime and the children and somehow, someway, return everyone to Boarhead.

  He watched the evening fall until it was pitch black. He found himself dozing with his head on his arms, leaning against the bow as the boat ran through the night.

  Their boat continued onward until the fog thinned and stars appeared both above and ahead.

  Beautiful. It reminded him of his earliest lesson with his father when stalking game in the forest. The stillness of the wilds broken only by distant bird calls had been frightening that first time. But his father had talked him through the fear, let him know that the world could be both cruel and kind, could give and take, and once Spicy accepted that, he could go anywhere he ever desired if he took care and watched his step.

  The sea was no different than a dark forest. It too could be understood. It only required knowledge and maybe a little bit of luck.

  It was only the humans that didn’t fit into his father’s word-picture of the world. They were as unnatural as a second sun and as random as a bolt of lightning. They had set his world on fire and there had been no way to prepare for it.

  And here he was, in the company of creatures he had never known existed and further from home than perhaps any goblin had ever traveled not in the captivity of men.

  He stood to get a better view of the stars. Then he realized the stars ahead weren’t stars at all, but small fires on the distant shore.

  Campfires.

  Men.

  Morning wasn’t far off and Spicy didn’t want to be seen by anyone on shore. Hog had responded to his tugs at the rope and stopped pulling. Once again they were adrift. Sounds carried from the shore. Shouts. Horses. The chopping of wood and the clang of metal. Someone was hammering, and soon came more noises. Whatever the humans were up to, they were busy.

  A town came into view. Bliss had felt large to Spicy, but this new settlement dwarfed the one across the water. Dark smoke hung around the rooftops. The buildings were huddled closer together and taller, but there were no lights burning. The place looked dead. The only illumination came from the campfires outside the walls.