by A. R. Wilson
“I wish I did not have to say yes. Three nights ago, a group of youths tried to rob us. It nearly ended with one of the ghostwood shelters on fire. Six youths died that night, all of them from Southam. They had tattoos on their left thighs marking them as workers in the mines of Tutelage Pass.”
“This is the first I have heard of this. What are mine workers from Southam doing here?” Mical’s eyes wandered away as though to do a sweep of the area then quickly returned to Jurren.
“The story is much deeper than that. I suggest all travels through Gaulden Forest be banned until Saimohl and Shevenor have had a chance to speak on the matter.”
“You can give your suggestions to the Council.” The general mounted his horse, then pointed to Jurren, Arkose, and one of the guards. “You three follow me back to the town square. The rest of you tend to the fallen. Take care to note every detail you witnessed here. We may need it in the days to come.”
Jurren slung his bow on his back and took the reins of the horse offered to him. Someone laid a blanket next to Ellam. The thought of his friend joining the memories of the bodies stacked in the back of a cart made Jurren’s stomach lurch. He looked away only to take in the vacant stare of a youth with blood on his lips.
The ‘what-ifs’ of how the battle could have ended different started whispering to him. He dug his nails into his palms to silence the thoughts.
With Mical in the lead, Jurren and Arkose followed at a swift trot back to Hess Bren while a guard took up the rear. They rode straight into the center of town to the Chamber of the Council. As Jurren pulled his horse to a stop, he saw Kidelar walking with Tascana up the front steps to the Chamber. Ignoring the hand of the general, he turned to join them.
“Mally, what’s going on?” Heluska named the girl Tascana at birth but the name Mally popped into Jurren’s head the first time that baby girl smiled at him. He called her by the nickname ever since.
“I’ll let Kidelar tell you, Daddy.”
The general came to put his hand under Jurren’s arm. “It can wait. You need to speak to the Council, now.”
“As do I.” Kidelar stepped in close. “And I doubt your reasons are as pressing as mine.”
“The deaths of twelve people in one day and these two men were at the center of it.” By now the general breathed hard from more than the ride into town.
Tascana shuddered, her eyes scanning back and forth between Kidelar and Jurren.
“A confirmed goblin sighting in Gaulden Forest.” Kidelar’s eyes dared the general to challenge him.
Fog clouded into Jurren’s vision, his head spinning. That was it. The smell nagging at him for the last three days. It came from the time when he lived upon his own native soil. He still remembered standing a stone’s throw away from a cave in the ground with his old mentor, watching goblins crawl toward the surface of the Predator’s Den. Ugly creatures migrating north to an unknown destination.
Leaving his home to the far east was supposed to ensure he would never encounter these beasts again. If goblins could make it this far, then what else from his past might cross these borders?
“There is no such thing as goblins.” Mical flipped his hair in a laugh. “Is this some story from those books you prize so highly?”
Jerking his arm free from Mical’s second grasp, Jurren placed a hand on Kidelar’s shoulder. “Where? When did this happen?”
“Yesterday afternoon, north of the west main road.”
The quick glance Kidelar gave toward Tascana was all the information needed to show the girl was somehow involved.
“We need to see the Council.” The general’s tone darkened, causing Tascana to shrink behind Kidelar.
Jurren turned face-to-face with Mical close enough for their chests to touch. “Might I suggest you guard your tone, my lord. You did not see all that I saw. The Council can wait a moment longer.”
The general stood his ground in silence.
“Jurren, what did you and Arkose see today?” Kidelar took a step back to face all three men equally.
“It began three days ago.” Jurren took a step back from Mical but didn’t break eye contact. “Youths from Southam have been infected by goblins, causing them to rob and attack travelers in Gaulden.”
A gasp. Jurren turned to see his daughter’s brow tighten, her hand clutched to her chest. The expression of panic grated on Jurren’s soul. He never wanted her to know about the horrors of this world. That was why he committed himself to the people of Bondurant. Their long history of peace was more alluring to Jurren than any treasure this world could offer him. Watching her now turn to cling to Kidelar at learning goblins could infect themselves upon people added to the rawness within Jurren’s heart. Shielding her from the realities of this world was no longer an option. But he could still fight to protect her.
“We need to tell the Council to put everyone on alert.” He took another step back from the general. Reaching his right arm out toward his daughter, he noticed the blood still on his hand. “Looks like I’ll have to hug you with this arm.” Pulling her close, he chose to find comfort in her present safety. “Where is your mother?”
“She’s at Kidelar’s house. We stayed there last night.” Her words muffled as she turned her head into his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for being safe?” She kept her face pressed into him as she shook her head. “We’ll talk about it tonight, Mally. For now, let’s go inside and tell our stories.” Turning his back toward Mical, he gestured for Arkose and Kidelar to follow him inside.
With no runners arriving ahead of them, the odds of the next few hours going in their favor were slim. Shevenor’s unique gift was not here to vouch through the sheer implausibility of a battle to the death and a goblin sighting. Standing before Saimohl and the Council of Hess Bren held none of the assurances Jurren relied on back in Kovarilos.
CHAPTER 6
Saimohl sat with squared shoulders behind a raised table with a dozen other men. Having two people arrive with two different important stories at the same time was apparently more than the Council was used to handling. The leader sat stroking his small beard for what seemed like an hour before giving them permission to speak.
“Since you are an advisor to the Council, Kidelar, you will give the first account.”
The scholar took a step forward from the group.
“Thank you, my lord. This girl here, Tascana, daughter of Jurren and Heluska, came to me yesterday evening. She chanced upon a creature known as a goblin roaming through Gaulden Forest. I have examined the history of Hess Bren better than most, and I assure you such beings do exist. There is record of a sighting here, dated almost a hundred years ago, and it caused the death of several due to the infection goblins spread. This entity has the potential to be the greatest threat Bondurant has ever seen.”
Silence.
No one said a word. Even the general stood speechless at the end of the table. The disbelief on their faces looked as though it were a combination of not wanting to believe the story and the inability to believe someone like Kidelar would claim it as truth.
Jurren moved only his eyes to look at Arkose, who stared forward stoically. Calm inched through his features. Good. Arkose had drawn the lines that needed to be drawn.
Saimohl coughed out a laugh. Shaking his head, he gestured an open hand toward Kidelar. “You expect us to believe a... what did you call it?”
“A goblin.”
“Yes, a goblin. And what exactly is this goblin you perceive as so worthy of our fear?”
“Taller than the tallest of men. Stronger than a bear with claws like a cougar. A dark, unknown magic forms them and sends them to do whatever their master desires. There is an account in our own archives of a goblin killing five men and severely wounding two others. The survivors were infected and took on the characteristics of the goblin over a few months.” Kidelar hesitated a moment. “In the end, they had to be removed as a threat.”
Several heads shook, along with skepti
cal chuckles.
“Not every story in every book can be trusted as fact, my dear friend. I am afraid you spend too much time in your books and not enough time in the real world.” Saimohl laced his fingers over his chest as he leaned back. “Discernment is a crucial quality in an advisor to the Council. I would caution you to keep that in mind.”
As Saimohl’s arrogant eyes shifted to Tascana, Jurren felt more than anger pulsing in his chest. This could not be. Sure, the story was fantastic, but was it really that hard to accept? His own daughter saw one walking in Gaulden Forest! What better proof did they need? She had nothing to gain by lying about such a thing.
After squinting a scowl at the girl, Saimohl glanced at Jurren.
“I hope your story is based in experience and not in fairy tales?” The leader’s words dripped with even greater mockery than when he spoke to Kidelar
Jurren clasped his hands behind his back to keep from clenching them into fists. “A group of thieves attacked us this afternoon, killing Ellam by biting and clawing him to death.”
Saimohl’s jaw set like the jowls of a dog guarding a bone. Looking to Arkose, then to the general, he propped an elbow onto the table. “What is this?”
“Two of my guards found Jurren pitted between two youths. Nine others were already dead by the time the rest of my men arrived.” Mical’s words began in the same tone Saimohl used. For some reason, his eyes kept drifting back and forth between the three men before the Council. It was as if the irrational chaos from a few hours ago suddenly made sense. “Each of the fallen youths had blood in and around their mouths. Some had it dripping down their chests. They attacked Ellam, disfiguring him beyond recognition.”
The sharp thud of Saimohl’s fist against the table made Tascana jump, and Jurren tightened the grip he had on his hands beneath his hunting cloak.
“Whoever heard of youths biting people to death? This is absurd! Absurd, I say. I demand to know the truth.” The leader of Hess Bren stood to lean over the table as far as his girth would allow. “Perhaps a recess is in order until we can gather a few more witnesses and get to the bottom of this.”
Jurren could scarcely take in enough breath to maintain his temper. The reason he no longer lived in the land of his birth was because he refused to live a lie. “The ghostwoods must be secured. If you do not act to protect these people from the goblin threat —”
“Silence!” Saimohl’s hands thrust out to the side for emphasis. “The first murder in Hess Bren in over 400 years and you think you can lecture me about protecting these people? All four of you will remain under house arrest until further notice. General Mical, post a station of guards on each of these persons.” He leaned onto his fingertips arched on the table. “Should any of you step off his property for any reason, I will personally convert each of your assets to ashes. Do I make myself clear?”
A hush sucked through the room. One by one, the Council members looked back and forth at each other. Watching their faces change from wide-eyed disbelief to slumped frowns assured Jurren no one would challenge the threat with talk of fairness or law. It was as though that same spirit of forgetfulness that Ellam spoke about had spread from Gaulden Forest into the heart of Hess Bren and its leaders. Not even the possibility of a goblin threat was enough for any of them to ask for follow-up questions. Little more than shock and silence fidgeted along their features as they shrank back in their seats.
Saimohl stared hard at the men before easing off his fingertips. Sitting back in his chair, he narrowed his eyes to the end of the table. “General, you have your orders. Act on them.”
“Of course, my lord. Come with me gentlemen and young miss. I will arrange for your escorts home.” His eyes swept the full length of the bench before stepping down.
Walking toward the main doors was as humiliating for Jurren as it was vexing. After all these years, how could anyone think he needed to be put on house arrest? That his testimony was unworthy of basic trust?
Outside, the general gave instructions for two of his men to stand watch overnight at each of the homes for those now under house arrest. The group of men assembled near their wards.
“Gentlemen, perhaps you could tell me a little more of this goblin story.” Mical motioned for them all to follow him as he led them out of the town square. “What would be most prudent for me to know, Jurren?”
Tascana looked up at her father as though she too wanted to hear. How Jurren wished he did not need to answer that question, but someone had to get help. Somebody needed to do something and do it soon.
“More of what you saw this afternoon. If there are others infected by the goblin then assaults will continue.”
Mical lowered his voice and turned his head toward Jurren. “And if the call was yours, what would you do first?”
“Send riders, fast riders, on the long route around Gaulden. Tell Shevenor that his runners never arrived and a second attack took a dozen lives. Be sure he knows Saimohl is too afraid to act and half of the Hess Bren militia is either tending to the dead or supervising those on house arrest.” He paused to look around and make sure no one was close enough to eavesdrop. “The other militias need to organize. Any efforts to fight this threat must be centered on archers. Arrows are the only safe method against the infected. Though goblins are stronger than us, they share all of our same weaknesses.”
The general stopped them and turned to the guards appointed to Arkose. “Make sure this man stops at his brother’s house on the way home. He was a personal friend of Ellam’s and should be notified of his passing.”
They stood, looking confused.
Mical grinned. “Arkose may be on house arrest, but that does not officially begin until he sets foot on his property. I will send further word to all of you shortly.”
They eventually nodded and turned to go.
“Arkose’s brother?” Jurren gave Mical a sideways look.
“He is a far better general than myself, and I have no shame in admitting that.”
“But what about Saimohl? If he finds out you sought help from his childhood nemesis, he’ll have your job.”
“Let him have it. I know what I saw today.”
“What do you plan to do?” Kidelar stepped in closer to the general.
“Whatever I can. Do us all a favor and put those books someplace safe.”
“What do you know?” The scholar took a half a step back.
“One of two things will happen tomorrow. Either the investigation will show Saimohl that he needs to protect Hess Bren from a goblin threat, or that he needs to protect us from the people claiming a goblin threat.”
One of the guards held up a hand, his voice catching as he tried to speak. “Is there really a goblin out there?”
“You all can talk about it on the way.” Mical motioned for them to head west. “Keep it simple and keep it quiet from prying ears. If at all possible, Jurren, I will come to you in the morning.”
Jurren nodded. The assigned guards walked them toward Kidelar’s home, asking all manner of questions. Out of concern for Tascana, and his own fatigue, Jurren kept his answers to what needed to be said.
The guards allowed Jurren to stop by Kidelar’s to reunite with his wife. Thankfully, she always knew when to wait to ask him what happened. They walked in silence all the way home.
At the edge of their property, one of the guards put a hand on Jurren’s shoulder. “I’m only doing my job, my lord. I hope you understand. As soon as my orders change I will place myself at your disposal. I trust you.”
The other guard looked at his companion then at Jurren and nodded. A single nod of acceptance was all he could give them in return.
Once inside his home, Jurren sat down at the kitchen table. Heluska pulled out day-old bread and a jar of jam. The moment that sweet smell hit him, he realized how hungry he was. Had he even eaten today?
Reaching to grab a piece, he saw the blood still dried to his hand and he clenched it back into a fist. “What has Kidelar told you abou
t the goblin?”
Heluska paused her hand as she spread jam on the bread. “What is a goblin?”
Was she serious? The blank sincerity of her question said she was.
“Mally, where did you go? Get in here.”
Tascana peered her head into the kitchen. Her tousled, auburn hair looked so much like her mother’s. Though everyone insisted the girl was the split image of him.
Jurren motioned her forward. “No. All the way in here. Why doesn’t your mother know about the goblin sighting?”
“Kidelar wanted to talk to the Council before telling anyone.”
“Come sit down, young lady. I told you we would talk about this tonight.” He pointed to the seat next to him at the table.
Heluska continued spreading jam. “Jurren, what is a goblin? What is this all about?”
Where should he begin? So much had happened. It felt like a month since reclining in his own home.
“Wife, we were attacked on our trip to Kovarilos. Youths from Southam have been pillaging travelers in Gaulden Forest. Apparently, a goblin has infected them, and that disease is driving their behavior. These things, these goblins, are born of magic, created by a warlock somewhere in the distant south. No one knows why the goblin is here, only that this is not the first time in Bondurant’s history we’ve encountered one. It must be found and stopped before there are any more deaths.”
She blinked hard and looked over at Tascana. Then, shaking her head, went back to spreading jam. “I’m sorry. A magical creature is causing some kind of disease spell? And this evil kills people and makes them want to steal? Jurren, I will always trust you, but this is really hard to understand.” Her hand paused as a lump of jam slopped onto the table. “Let’s start with the blood on your hand.”
“It’s not mine.”
The knife clattered onto the table. Heluska cupped both hands together over her mouth then clutched them to her chest. “Who was hurt?”
“Several young men, the ones who attacked us today.” Sighing deeply, he looked at his hands. They suddenly felt so small. “Ellam is dead. I did my best to protect him, but there were too many.”
