by Dave Skinner
“I have listened and I believe what he says, but I am reluctant to give up my freedom. Ran is the hero, not I. No one even knows where he is, but they managed to find me.” She could feel his pain—that much of a link still remained between them.
“Mearisdeana, this was the first time in my life I have felt free to do as I wished,” Bray continued, “but now it has been taken from me. I am content as a Traveller. The last few months have been peaceful in a way.” He looked into her face. “I wanted to travel with you again, to help you bring your people here. You know that, right?”
“I know and understand, Bray. We will travel together again someday, but now, we both have our duties to perform.” She let her arms fall to her side as she stepped back. “Manda waits for me. I must go.”
She turned aside and made her way back through the kitchen and into the common room. Her companions were waiting. All stood grouped together except for the red-coated girl. Bray’s friend stood alone, holding to an expression as painful as Bray’s.
“Ready? Manda asked.
Mearisdeana nodded, shouldered her pack, and followed Manda out to the walkway. “How long on the water before we reach this place?” she asked.
“Three days will do it if the Mother is kind. Four days is normal.”
Mearisdeana frowned. A lump of anxiety had grown in her chest. Is Adamtay alright? She wondered. Am I taking too long?
Chapter 38
Ran could tell he was being watched. He could sense it. Someone or something was following him, had been all morning. He did not mind them watching, as long as they did not intrude on his solitude. After the cities and towns he had experienced over the last months, all he wanted was to be left alone.
Whatever or whoever was out there was forest smart. They, or it, had picked up his trail a few days past despite his attempts to travel with the Mother. He doubted a footprint or a broken branch had given him away. He had been his usual careful self, leaving little if anything to mark his passage, but they had found evidence and were following. It was probably the stench of civilization that still permeated his clothes. He had spent too much time searching through the towns and villages as he made his way north.
Searching for what, he still could not say. At first he thought he wanted a place to belong, but his efforts always ended badly. Every time he involved himself in the affairs of others it led to . . . problems . . . suspicions . . . death. Yes, death was the ultimate separator. Save someone by killing his attackers and everything is gratitude and appreciation, at first, but then it changes. Eventually you are the untrusted outsider again, so you leave and try to change your actions the next time. You ignore the card thieves, the bullies, the cutthroats. Let the fools take care of each other. Saving them all is not possible. Ignore it all, until they come for you. Maybe they interpret your silence for fear; maybe they want to ensure their leadership position, whatever the cause, it happens. Then you move on. Leave the dead behind. But these followers were different.
He had left the last town north of Bernadice a month ago. For almost three seven-day periods he had not sensed another person, until a few days ago, when he became aware that something was out there shadowing his choices. They were excellent woodsmen, and they were proving to be relentless. He could feel them, and if he was home, on the Tawshe peninsula, the feeling would indicate fairies, but different somehow. It was an odor, or the suggestion of one. It tickled the hairs in his nose, but left no scent.
The woods around him began to lighten. Approaching an opening in the trees, he stopped at the edge. He had come upon a natural meadow surrounding a solid outcrop of rock topped by a large boulder. It was similar to what he would see at home. High ground was his thought, not the best defendable position, but the large boulder would protect his back. Taking a stance with the bolder behind him, he stood motionless, listening, feeling. They were all around. No way past. He would have to fight. So be it. Ran dropped his pack.
“Come if you must, but know that I am Ran, a Traveller. I only wish to pass.”
The Mother held her breath for a moment, and then another, before a hint of feelings rose. It made the hairs on his arms prickle. Only the Little People could do that, as far as he knew.
“I am a friend of the little folk,” he told the trees, “as are all Travellers. We respect your rights, and if I have inadvertently violated one, I say I am sorry. I only wish to travel through this land. I will not stay. But, if you wish to fight I will defend myself, and then I will leave.”
The trees around the meadow barely rustled as the creatures came into view. Goblins, Ran thought. The Hob’s shame. These poor hobs were the ones touched by the witch’s curse, cast out of their homes and villages to live alone in the wilderness, although obviously not all alone. He had happened upon a tribe of goblins who had somehow come together despite their destructive nature.
One of the goblins stepped forward. “You fight us?” His tribesman arrayed behind him exploded in barks and snorts and displays of bravado.
“Only if necessary, if you choose to block my passage.”
“We,” the goblin declared, throwing his arms wide to include all the creatures that now circled around the edge of the meadow, “We will fight and kill you.”
“No! I will kill you and the five closest to you before escaping into the woods, where I will begin to kill the goblins who remain. And I will kill them all, because I never leave an enemy at my back.” Ran pulled his sword and started forward.
“Stop this nonsense!” a female voice commanded. It was a soft voice, but there was magical strength behind the words.
Ran, who had sprung towards the chief goblin, froze, unable to move, in a position not possible to maintain. He fell awkwardly to the ground and ended up rolling down the slope to land at the chief goblin’s feet. The goblin had also frozen when commanded to. Unfortunately, his mouth was open in the midst of a roar. Saliva started to dribble from it. Ran, frozen on the ground, could only watch it happen.
“I want all of you to return home. We will talk about this at council tonight,” the woman’s voice continued. She waved her hand and the freeze was over. Ran rolled away from the puddle in front of his face and rose to his feet, weapons at the ready; however the goblins, except for the chief, had all turned away, and disappeared into the woods.
The woman was tall for a fairy although her height would fit comfortable below Ran’s armpit. The physical attraction he felt told him she was powerful. As she approached, her wispy gown revealed a lithe body and smooth movements. Beneath the cloth a green tone showed, reflecting from her skin, or perhaps enhanced by her gown. Her green colouration made her white-blond hair seem brighter.
“I am sorry about this, Traveller Ran. Of course you will be able to pass through my lands. My other guests, To-rick’s people, the goblins, will not bother you. “Is that not correct, To-rick?”
To-rick grunted, and then grunted more.
“With pleasure I am sure,” she said in answer.
The woman turned to Ran. “To-rick invites you to share a meal tonight at his village. I told him you will accept.”
“Even if my wish is to move on, immediately?”
“Yes. It is also my wish that you stay. I have need of you. You should gather your pack.”
To-rick entered the trees first as they started out for the village. He disappeared leaving neither a sound nor a hint of his passing.
“The goblins move quietly,” Ran said.
“As they should. They are hobs after all, and all my people are only seen when we wish to be.”
“Are you a hob?”
“No. I am a nymph. Surely I do not look like a hob.”
“No, you do not, but when you said ‘my people’, I thought you meant the hobs.”
“I was referring to the Little People. Is that not what your kind calls us?”
“Yes it is, but I was unaware that goblins were included as members.”
“They must be included somewhere. The curse make
s them into hob-goblins, but I maintain they are still fairies like the rest of us.”
“I have never heard of goblins living together.” Their walking took them onto a cart way. It was wide enough for them to walk abreast. She linked her arm with his. Her touch tingled.
“I will take credit for that. It is partially my influence that keeps them together and acting civil to each other. This is the only refuge for their kind I know of. The witch’s curse drives them mad, as well as causing the physical changes, but unlike the physical change which remains, the madness passes in time, leaving a stunted kind of reason. They are shunned by the hobs, so they cannot return to their old life. I offer them a place to live on my land. They call me Queen. You may call me Sinty.”
They had entered a large village of houses, if houses were what you would call them. Ran was surprised by the number of buildings and by their appearance. Although painted in bright fay colours, they were crudely built. Many boards were broken at the ends instead of sawed completely through, and the nails were as hap hazardously applied as the wall boards.
“Are carpenters immune to the curse?” Ran asked.
“Do not say that where To-rick can hear you. He was a carpenter before the change. They have poor control of their bodies after. Simple tasks like cutting a board or hammering a nail frustrates them. That is why I wanted you to come. To teach them.”
“You have chosen the wrong person. I am not a carpenter. I am a warrior.”
“That is appropriate because I want you to teach them to defend themselves.”
Ran stopped walking. “Teach them to fight? Why would you want to do that?”
“Others of your kind have built a village a seven-day walk from here. There is also a small garrison of soldiers. I have looked on these men and find their actions disturbing. Within their compound they have built an arena where they pit animals they have captured against each other. They have been doing that for a long time. Some days ago while I was away, they raided To-ricks village and captured two of his people. Now they pit them against the animals. To-rick wants to get his people back but, despite their size and strength, the goblins are poor fighters. They lack discipline and the skills required for fighting with weapons. I am hoping you will teach them; if not, I fear they will be slaughtered when they attempt the rescue.”
“I doubt I could teach them to—” Ran began, but the pleading look on Sinty’s face stopped him. “I suppose I can give it a try.”
***
Ran stepped out onto the area he had chosen for training. To-rick and warriors of his tribe were already arrayed in the centre of the field. To-rick grunted something at him as Ran moved towards them.
“Could you repeat what you said? I missed it.”
The goblin words came slowly. “We... can… kill... you.”
“That is what we have come to decide. Sinty has asked me to teach you to handle weapons. In order to do that, I must know what skills you currently have, that is where we will start. Your warriors will come at me one at a time, and try to throw me to the ground. To-rick, you know your warriors abilities. You pick the... ah... goblin, to come forward.”
Ran watched To-rick’s face contort as he figured out what Ran had suggested. Finally, a toothy grin split his face into something both repugnant and childlike. Without looking behind him, To-rick announced, “Ripper start.”
Ran could see larger goblins among those present, but none of their tusks were the rounded type displayed on Ripper’s face. They protruded from the sides of his large mouth, swung down across his lower jaw before curving up and over in a circle that curved back on itself and ended below his eyes. A complete circle of tusk is useless to a predator, Ran thought. Ripper swung his arms around, pranced in place, bent and charged towards Ran.
“As Ripper is about to demonstrate,” Ran said to the assembled goblins, “the slow charge is useless against someone—or anything—not also charging towards you.” Ripper was into his stride now, a full head down charge. How interesting, Ran thought as he stepped aside. He could actually take a wall out. Ran’s foot brushed the goblin as his charge took him past. Ripper demonstrated his need for curved tusks by sprawling face first into the dirt. The trough he plowed was impressive.
“Thank you, Ripper, for that demonstration,” Ran continued. “Pick another one, To-rick. You are doing well.”
To-rick assigned five more of his warriors to the demonstration before the goblin’s enthusiasm began to wane. Ran could see the thinking process demonstrated across To-rick’s face again, before he himself stepped forward. He lumbered towards Ran with arms spread wide.
“To-rick and I will now show why this is a poorer idea than I first thought it would be. From the placement of his feet and the slump of his right shoulder, we can guess that he will try a twist to the low right to—I assume—grab my foot.” Ran spun as the goblin lunged forward. At the conclusion of the spin, his booted foot drove a resounding kick to the back of To-rick’s head as he passed. The goblin sprawled forward into the dirt. Ran continued. “Watch how To-rick struggles to rise. He is dazed. He shakes his head, then again, and again before weaving forward with arms extended. Ran slapped down To-rick’s groping hands and kicked him in a spot just below the chest bone. To-rick’s air escaped his chest like a bellows blowing. Ran walked forward and grabbed one of To-rick’s tusks. They were not as impressive as Ripper’s, but they still offered an easy target. His hand held one of them as To-rick fell to his hands and knees. The goblin chief fought valiantly to draw air into his chest. As Ran rested his hand on To-rick’s tusk, every goblin froze, all movement ceased, for a heartbeat, then another, before Ran slapped his hand down hard on To-rick’s back. The goblin gulped air before collapsing in hacking coughs.
“That is the end of the evaluation. I will report my findings to Sinty.”
***
Sinty was not pleased; Ran could see it clearly in her posture. “What I am saying—”
“What you are saying,” the Nymph broke in, “is that they are two slow to defend themselves.”
“Not at all,” Ran continued. “I am saying that any blade larger than an eating knife will do more damage than good. We have to find something that they are good at and hone that skill.”
“What are they good at?” Sinty asked.
“You tell me.”
She had met Ran as he was leaving the training yard. They were walking through the village, arm in arm. Sinty seemed to like to rest her hand on his arm as they talked. When she got upset, her touch caused a tingle, as it had when he told her how impossible the task she had set him was. Looking around, Ran had to admit that training the goblins to fight with weapons was a dismal proposition as evidenced by the structures around them. They did nothing well that he could see. “Modern warfare would see them demolished. Sending them against a foe on a battlefield would be like slowly walking a large pincushion into the sewing circle.”
“They are loved by the Mother,” Sinty stated, just as a large fist crashed into Ran’s head. He had the slightest hint of the blow coming and was already shifting away from it as it landed. It still managed to knock him to the ground. From his prone position, Ran saw To-rick glaring down at him.
“To-rick!” Sinty barked. “What are you doing?” The goblin growled. “Use your words, To-rick, why did you attack my guest?”
“He touched me,” the goblin grunted.
“You mean he knocked you down?” the nymph asked.
“No! He touched me.” When Sinty continued to stare at him, To-rick continued. “He touched my tusk,” he said in a low whisper. He looked around as if to make sure no one else heard.
“I see,” Sinty stated. When she turned to Ran, there was something in her eyes that he could not interpret. Her voice, when she spoke, was overly firm. “You should not have done that, Ran.”
“Done what?” Ran asked.
“Touched his tusk,” Sinty stated flatly. “It is the equivalent of someone touching you between your legs. You m
ust apologize at once, and promise never to do it again.”
The look on her face told Ran she found humour in the situation although she was serious about the apology. “I ask your forgiveness, To-rick,” Ran told him formally. “I was unaware of the meaning of my actions. I hope you can forgive me.”
The goblin continued to stare at him. “To-rick,” Sinty stated, “Ran has apologized; now you must forgive him and apologize for your unchivalrous attack. It is dishonourable to attack someone without warning. You should—”
“Honourable?” Ran interrupted her. “There is no honour in fighting. The idea is to hurt or kill your opponent. You must honour a flag of truce, but that is the only time it is required.” Ran climbed to his feet and brushed dust from his clothes. An idea had started to form in his mind as the ringing in his ear subsided. “To-rick has made a point neither of us considered.”
“I do not understand your meaning.”
“To-rick, when I first came into Sinty’s territory, I was being followed by some of your people. How many followed me?”
The goblin thought for some time before holding up a hand with all five fingers spread.
“Five of you, and I heard nothing. How close to me were they?”
“Sometimes far, sometimes close.”
“Close enough to touch?”
“Many times,” To-rick admitted. “Stand quiet. You walk past.”
Ran smiled as he turned to the nymph. “I think I have found a way to meet your request.”
The look of displeasure returned to Sinty’s face. “You mean to have them attack from ambush.”
“Yes, if they can hide from me they can hide from any soldier.”
