The two men then started to argue and bicker heatedly amongst themselves. Blacknail ignored them and walked right past. They were too preoccupied to stop him. Clearly, Herad wasn’t expecting a flanking attack and was putting her less intelligent minions where they could do the least amount of harm.
After a quick peek around the corner to make sure it was safe, Blacknail stepped out onto the main street. Before him was the rear of Herad’s forces. Bandits were running everywhere as they rushed to and from the front lines. A nervous energy permeated the air, and Blacknail could smell both fear and excitement. Herad stood in the center of all the activity. She was only a few dozen feet from the fighting and was yelling orders as she waved her short sword around. At her command, bandits abandoned cover or held their ground and counterattacked. When a group looked like it was about to be overrun, she and her bodyguards would dive in and join the fray themselves. Enemies fell by the dozen when that happened.
Blacknail couldn’t help but notice two unfamiliar faces next to her that were also racking up quite the body count. Judging by their physical prowess and the dark look in their eyes, Blacknail was pretty sure they were Sloshers sent by Avorlus. Mahedium had mentioned something about that earlier, hadn’t he? The fear she and her bodyguards inspired among Zelena’s men was obvious. They hesitated to approach her and were quick to retreat when she advanced. Only the mercenary formation was unaffected, and Herad seemed to be avoiding them.
Suddenly, there was a shift in the way the enemy was moving. The ranks of Zelena’s men parted, and three humans stepped out into the now empty space in front of Herad. One of them was obviously a mercenary. He was wearing their brown tunic and armed and armored the same way as them. The second was a huge human male in crude leather armor with a large round belly and a long black beard. He had a huge mace over his shoulder that looked to be the size of Blacknail’s entire body. The third was a tall woman with a chainmail shirt, steel helmet, and a long spear in her hands.
The hobgoblin was willing to bet that they were all Sloshers. Herad must have thought so as well, because she instantly focused on them and ordered most her men back. Only Avorlus’s Sloshers stayed by her side as she marched forward to meet these new foes.
Blacknail looked away from his chieftain for a second and tried to find Saeter. He scanned the nearby crowds but didn’t see him anywhere near the rear. With a frown of annoyance and concern, he started looking along the front line. There, a flash of movement caught his attention, and he spotted his master’s face. Ack, Saeter was doing something stupid! Why was he fighting on the front lines? That was for dumb people and disposable members of the tribe! His master wasn’t replaceable. Did he want to get Blacknail killed?
Immediately, the frantic hobgoblin began pushing his way through the crowd of bandits that lay between him and the front line. He had to make sure his master was safe. Who else would feed and train him? For reasons beyond Blacknail’s understanding, Saeter had his sword out and was fighting one of Zelena’s henchmen. He was holding his own, but he looked exhausted. His shoulders were slumped, and his movements were slower than usual. Blacknail’s heart started beating faster, and a sick, uneasy feeling grew in his gut. He picked up his pace and shoved a nearby bandit out of his way.
As the hobgoblin drew nearer, Saeter managed to parry his opponent’s blade and deliver a deep slash to his chest. The enemy fell as blood poured from the wound. For a moment, Blacknail almost felt relief, but it didn’t last long. Another enemy fighter stepped forward to challenge his master, and this one was bigger and had a larger sword! Saeter raised his blade defensively, but he was too slow. The larger man’s sword swatted it aside and sent the old scout reeling. As Blacknail watched, his master collapsed onto the ground and didn’t get back up.
The hobgoblin was sprinting now, and not so much pushing people out of the way as picking them up and throwing them. The uneasy feeling pulsating in his gut was being subsumed by a new emotion, a burning wave of all-consuming fury. It raged through him like a storm of fire. Blacknail’s clawed fingers tightened and curled. His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled up into a snarl to reveal his long pointy teeth. He was angry, very, very angry.
The thug standing over Saeter raised his sword high in preparation to strike. There were still people in the hobgoblin’s way, but he didn’t care. Blacknail flared Elixir. It mingled inside of him and seemed to drive his rage to new heights. He was so empowered, he jumped and landed on the shoulders of a surprised bandit. The man wobbled, but Blacknail had already lunged away toward the target of his now intense and focused hatred. He hit the unsuspecting thug like a sack of bricks thrown by an ogre. The man gasped painfully in surprise, dropped his sword, and lurched sideways as the speeding hobgoblin smashed into him. A second later, he was falling over, and Blacknail had his hands around the man’s neck. A second after that, Blacknail’s claws sank into the man’s throat, and the hobgoblin tore his windpipe out in a small gory red explosion.
Several of Zelena’s henchmen stepped forward to deal with the new threat, but they all froze in terror a second later. The jump and following impact had thrown the hobgoblin’s hood back, and Blacknail was far too enraged to give a damn. He rose from atop his victim’s body with a vicious snarl on his face and blood dripping from his hands. A loud menacing growl echoed up from his chest and out through his lips as he turned to stare malevolently at his closest enemies. He would rip them all apart and bathe in their blood!
Some of Zelena’s men flinched away from his gaze, others paled and remained frozen in fear, and one blond, tall, powerfully built man stepped forward to attack. Blacknail ducked under the blow and killed him with a knife through his groin. The man fell and bled to death in seconds.
The hobgoblin’s bloodlust was far from satisfied; feeding it had just made it stronger and the cravings more seductive. Blacknail went for the weakest and easiest prey next. He grabbed the fallen man’s sword and swung it toward the closest of his stunned foes. The hobgoblin Vessel’s inhuman speed took everyone by surprise. Before anyone could react, the blade had sliced off the man’s hand. Blacknail was already spinning toward the next target. He slashed up toward the thug’s face but was stopped by a clumsy block. This barely slowed the hobgoblin. He pushed his blade forward to knock the man off-balance and then stepped forward. As quick as thought, Blacknail’s hand shot out and his fingers sank into the man’s exposed eye sockets.
More screaming filled the air. It seemed to synch with the hobgoblin’s frantically beating heart and was music to his ears. Blacknail withdrew his hand and gave it a quick lick. The taste of iron, blood, and brains felt wonderful on his lips. It tasted like belonging.
A blade sliced through the air toward him, but Blacknail dodged to the side. He laughed gleefully as the claws on his left foot tore through the front of his boot and into the groin of an attacker. Then, another thug stepped forward and right into Blacknail’s blade. The edge bit into his neck with fatal precision. Blacknail laughed as bloodlust overtook him. All these stupid humans were so slow, and their moves were so obvious. He could kill them all day, and he would, because it was such great fun! He ducked under a wild, panicked swing and gutted the idiot who had attacked him. A space had cleared around Blacknail now. Both friends and foes had fallen back from him and the pile of mangled corpses at his feet.
The hobgoblin frowned as the sound of a yelling voice penetrated the red haze that surrounded him. One of his enemies was trying to summon some crossbowmen. Damned crossbows, Blacknail was so going to kill him next. He took a step forward to do just that when a hush fell over the battlefield. Almost everyone was suddenly looking toward the center of the battlefield as Herad’s voice echoed over it.
“Your Vessels are dead, Zelena. They couldn’t stand against me and neither can these pitiful drags you call an army. Now, do you dare challenge me personally, or will you run like a coward?” she yelled loudly enough for everyone to hear.
There was no response from anyone on Zele
na’s side, so Blacknail took this opportunity to murder the man to his left while everyone was distracted. Unfortunately, he didn’t die as quietly as the hobgoblin had hoped, and his screams filled the air for a few moments before Blacknail could finish him off. Blacknail met the eyes of his next victim and stepped forward. The man’s eyes widened in terror as he returned the hobgoblin’s gaze, and a second later, he turned and ran. The thug to his left followed him, and then running away suddenly became the popular thing to do.
All around Blacknail men began to flee for their lives. Soon, it wasn’t limited to those few men near the hobgoblin. The rhythm of pounding boots on cobblestone rang out repeatedly as all of Zelena’s men broke formation and turned to run. Even the mercenaries started to march slowly backward. As they fled, Blacknail took a step forward to chase them but then stopped. As hungry as he was for new kills, he couldn’t help but notice that none of his tribe were in pursuit. Going after all of Zelena’s men alone might sound fun, but it was also probably unhealthy.
The hobgoblin stood all alone on the blood-covered street. As the red rage of his bloodlust slowly drained away, he remembered he’d come here for a reason. His master had been hit! How could he have forgotten that? Blacknail spun around to find out what had happened to Saeter. He desperately needed his master to be all right. No amount of blue cheese could replace the man who had taught him so much!
Chapter 43
There was ragged cheering from Herad’s band as Zelena’s forces fled for their lives. The shouts of dozens of tired but joyful men and women rose into the air as they celebrated their victory. Everyone still standing was glad just to have survived the long day of fighting. With the battle now over, the anger and the energy that had come with it quickly started to drain from Blacknail’s body. Suddenly, he could feel all his injuries again, and if anything, they hurt more than before. The hobgoblin couldn’t rest yet though. He immediately began limping around in search of his master. Blacknail needed to know if he was okay and not dead or anything. What was he going to do if Saeter was hurt? His chest felt unpleasantly hollow just thinking about it, and so did his stomach. His master was the one that fed him most the time!
Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Blacknail to find Saeter. The hobgoblin winced when he saw his master lying up against the side of a building. Immediately, Blacknail ran over to his side and poked him in the arm.
“Are you alive? It’s not-ss my fault if you died,” he asked as he crouched over his master. Saeter coughed, opened his eyes, and glared angrily at the hobgoblin.
“I’m fine, stop poking me, you overgrown goblin!” the old scout growled weakly.
“You don’t look fine,” Blacknail replied in an unconvinced tone as he tilted his head to the side. Now that he was closer, the hobgoblin noticed someone had wrapped some bandages around his master’s chest and left arm.
“Bah, I’m just taking a brief rest. I’m not so weak that a blow like that could do me in. I’m out of shape is all. Now leave me alone,” Saeter said and closed his eyes again.
Blacknail sighed in relief as he stood back up. Well, his master was apparently going to live, so that was good. The curious hobgoblin decided to ask around and find out what exactly had happened while he’d been fighting. A few minutes later, he got his answer. Apparently, the blow from the now very dead thug had merely stunned Saeter, and when Blacknail had charged in, one of his nearby tribesmen had taken the opportunity to drag the old scout back away from the front lines. The rescuer was a young blond man. He was one of the new recruits that Herad had hired in Daggerpoint. Blacknail walked over to him. The young man paled slightly as he warily watched the bloodstained hobgoblin approach. Blacknail smiled reassuringly, but that didn’t seem to help for some reason.
“What’s your name-ss?” Blacknail asked him.
“Eylias,” the man stuttered in reply. Obviously, he was awestruck being around an amazing bandit such as Blacknail. The hobgoblin wasn’t surprised, he was really amazing.
The hobgoblin stepped up in front of Eylias and looked him over carefully. The blond bandit froze, and his eyes widened in utter amazement. Blacknail thought he looked smarter than the average human, although that wasn’t saying much. With snake-like speed, Blacknail leaned forward and wrapped the man in a huge hug. Eylias’s panicked attempts to escape were futile, but cute.
“Thank you for saving Saeter! I like you,” the hobgoblin exclaimed happily.
“You’re very welcome!” the man squeaked in alarm as Blacknail squeezed his ribs together.
“You can be my minion. I’ll show you how to make rope and kill people you don’t like,” the hobgoblin announced cheerfully. All the important bandits had subordinates, so why shouldn’t Blacknail? He was pretty much the second or third most important bandit in the entire band!
Eylias gasped. “I don’t think…”
“Most humans don’t. It doesn’t matter; you just have-ss to do what I say,” Blacknail explained as he let the man go. Eylias stumbled unsteadily as the hobgoblin stepped back.
“I mean… I’m already part of Richter’s crew, so I can’t be in yours,” the man quickly said after sucking down a long breath.
“I’ll just ask-ss Herad to fix that. Then we can go out into the woods!” Blacknail replied.
“The woods?” the man asked with dawning horror.
“Sure, you need-ss to learn to hunt, and knowing how not to get eaten or torn apart is important too.”
“No thanks, I don’t really want to learn that stuff,” Eylias quickly blurted out. Blacknail shook his head and sighed; he had expected this reaction. Humans were really lazy after all, so they needed motivation.
“Don’t worry! You just have-ss to do as I say, and then nothing bad will happen to you,” Blacknail said with a dark look and a meaningful nudge. For added emphasis, he then made a few stabbing motions with his hand. You could never explain things too clearly to humans.
“I see,” the young bandit replied a few seconds later. He sounded more than a little shocked and overwhelmed. The right side of his face also seemed to be twitching slightly. Well, it wasn’t every day a nameless disposable grunt like him managed to get such a great new position in the tribe!
Off in the distance, the sound of Herad yelling could still be heard. Even though the battle was over, there was still tons of work to be done. Men were rushing around to help the wounded, load all the corpses and body parts on wagons, loot the fallen, and finish off wounded enemies. The hobgoblin wanted to join in the fun, but he was too tired and sore. He didn’t have the energy left to wander around the battlefield and look for loot to take home. Oh well, most of his tribesmen would undoubtedly grow tired of their prizes and leave them lying around somewhere Blacknail could pick them up anyway. Most of the things the hobgoblin wanted ended up in his possession one way or another. He just had to keep an eye open for all the despicable thieves that wanted to steal his stuff.
Just then, a pair of men arrived with a stretcher. Blacknail watched with interest as they loaded his master up and began to carry him back to base. That stretcher sure looked comfy, and Blacknail was really sore from all the fighting. A few dozen feet away, another man was carrying a stretcher and looking for wounded to carry. Blacknail decided to help him. With a cheerful smile on his face, he grabbed Eylias and dragged him over to the porter.
“I want to ride-ss on this. Carry me back to base,” he told the man with the stretcher.
“It’s um… only for wounded people,” the porter replied uncertainly.
“I’m very wounded. I can barely walk-ss, and I feel like I’m going to fall over. Now carry me back to base, or my new minion Eylias will show you-ss how wounded I am by hurting you the same way,” the hobgoblin replied threateningly with narrowed eyes.
The porter gave Eylias a confused look. The young blond just stared back with a bewildered look on his face. Blacknail drew his knife and started to pick his nails clean with it in a very conspicuous manner while he stared intent
ly at Eylias. He got the message.
“Right, you’d better do as he says,” the young bandit reluctantly said.
The porter looked between Eylias and Blacknail before shrugging and setting the stretcher down on the ground. The hobgoblin then cheerfully jumped on, and the two men started carrying him down the road. It was as comfy as Blacknail thought it would be, so he laid back and enjoyed the ride. He should travel everywhere like this.
However, they didn’t get very far before their trek was interrupted. Blacknail heard the sound of familiar light footsteps approaching, and he opened his eyes to see Herad headed his way. At first she gazed toward Saeter’s prone form and scowled in dissatisfaction, but then she turned toward Blacknail. Her eyebrows rose slightly in surprised amusement as she took in the sight of the hobgoblin sprawled over the stretcher being carried by the two men.
“Ah, there’s my favorite hobgoblin. I heard that you’d walked back here on your own without any obvious injuries, but the sentries clearly must have not been paying enough attention. You’re obviously wounded, so I’ll have to punish them later,” she told him.
Blacknail grinned uncertainly and stifled a lazy yawn. The two men carrying him froze at their boss’s attention. The hobgoblin noticed his chieftain looked unusually… happy. It made him uncomfortable, like being in the calm center of a storm. Apparently, all it took to put her in a good mood was the deaths of hundreds of her enemies.
“Yes, I’m very wounded; it hurts-ss everywhere. Bad sentries, they’re terrible at their jobs. Ow, the pain-ss,” he whined dramatically as he collapsed back onto the stretcher.
“I see. Well, since you’re obviously not too wounded to talk, I need a report on what you’ve been up to. I gave you a mission,” she told him with a trace of her usual sternness.
City of Daggers (The Iron Teeth Book 2) Page 41
