Nowhere to Run

by Elliott Kay

  The mayor awaited him inside the tavern along with a handful of other townsfolk. Barret saw spears and axes among them, and not one bearing a drop of blood. “Did you even try to fight?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  “Your man tried to lead us against them, yes,” said Dunning. “The bugbear slew him before he took a second breath. We were told not to harm the woman, either, but she clearly meant to fight to the death. I chose not to waste lives attempting the impossible.

  “We have a healer of some small magical talent living and working on the edge of town. I’ve sent for her already, though she may have expended her powers already today helping others.”

  “Fine,” Barret seethed. “She can stay here until she’s ready to heal again. What of the rest of my men?”

  “All dead,” said the tavernkeeper. “It’s... horrible.”

  “It’s battle, old man. It always looks like that.”

  “These people don’t have the stomach for battle,” said a woman from over at the bar. “You can put a weapon in their hands and show them how to use it, but most will freeze or run rather than stick it where it goes. The goblins won’t have that problem. Even the runts are killers. Best these lot will do is soak up some arrows meant for your soldiers.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” Barret looked her way, wincing with pain. Simply turning his head hurt. “Did I ask for your advice?”

  “No, but you’ll ask for her help. And mine.” Her bearded companion turned from the bar, looking as rough as the woman and twice as brawny. “We’ve fought that crew who tore through you just now. Used to be more of us, but now we’re all that’s left. Just like you.”

  “I have plenty more ready to fight with me and many more on the way,” said Barret.

  “Do you have another wizard to replace the dead one lying out in the yard?”

  Barret looked them over with open disdain. They wore armor, but it was worn and filthy. The pair hardly seemed like road-weary travelers. He doubted they had a home to call their own, nor a lick of magic between them. “Do you?”

  They came off their stools and walked forward without as much as a shared glance. “I am Brok,” said the man. “This is Rosile.”

  Their eyes dimmed with the same unnatural shadow, but it was Rosile who reached for Barret’s shoulder. He inhaled sharply, feeling a wave of cold rush through him, overcoming his pain. When the cold vanished, his pain left with it. Barret blinked. His arm worked fine. His leg moved without complaint.

  “We have the magic you need,” said Brok. “We’re willing to make a deal.”

  Chapter Seven

  DigDig hated himself for leaving Teryn captured and abandoning Shady Tooth to deal with it alone. His day got steadily worse from there.

  “We’re pole arm specialists! Give us the spears!” bellowed the hobgoblin towering over him on the right.

  “No, we’re the pole arm specialists!” argued the equally-too-close orc on the left. DigDig felt their breath on his face. He smelled it, too, but in company like this he took such discomfort for granted. “You need size and strength to break a charge. That’s us.”

  “You can’t have a decent phalanx without shields to go with it. You got shields?”

  “No, and neither do you.”

  “We’ll carve our own shields and have ‘em ready by daybreak. We’ll march in good order, too, ‘cause we’re hobgoblins. You lot need a whole week to learn your right from your left.”

  The orc knocked the hobgoblin back with a jab. “That’s my right!” he shouted.

  “No, it’s not,” DigDig sighed, but the fight was already on. The hobgoblin tackled the orc out of sheer rage, leaving the pair tussling in the dirt. At least it got them both out of DigDig’s face, but the break didn’t last long. They were only a momentary block on the larger crowd gathering around him with shouts and outstretched hands. All too many of the goblin folk were much taller than DigDig. He couldn’t see past the front of the crowd. For all he knew, most of the camp was here.

  He’d never seen greater desperation than a crowd of orcs and goblin folk completely ignoring a good brawl right in front of them. Many pressed forward, threatening to pin DigDig against the tree at his back.

  “Give me a sword, I’m good with those,” said an orc.

  “Ran out of swords already,” DigDig told her. He handed her a mace.

  “What about bows?” asked a goblin who climbed halfway over an orc to be seen.

  “Get to bows and arrows when the big stuff runs out.”

  “This is taking too long, can’t you dump it out and let us sort through?” asked someone else.

  “No. Bags will explode. Seen it happen. You don’t want that. What’s your weapon?”

  “Axe!”

  The weapon came to DigDig’s hand the instant he put his hand in the bag. He pulled it out with care, his fingers hooked under the head of the axe. His customer took the weapon by the top of its haft and stepped back with joy.

  “Damn it all, just give me a spear already,” someone else shouted. An orc shoved his hand into the bag without warning and jerked it back out just as quickly, shrieking and trailing blood. “Aagh! It bit me! Get back, the bag bites!” The front of the crowd lurched back in shock.

  “Asshole!” DigDig snapped. “Don’t stick your hand in a bag full of blades! Gotta be careful with this stuff! It’s magic!”

  “Hey! Hey, DigDig!” hissed a voice at his side. DigDig rolled his eyes before turning to yet another goblin who somehow managed to slip through the crowd and around the tree—and then blinked at the sight of his face. “You got a couple short ones, maybe? One for me and one for your mom?”

  “You’re not my dad!” DigDig fumed at Agnad. “I don’t even know you!”

  “Uh, sure, but...”

  “Take care of Mom myself. And Dad. Get in line like everyone else.” DigDig turned back to a mob that looked nothing at all like a line.

  He was lucky no one had tried to take the bags from him yet. It was safer when he started this whole process. Ruck was there beside him to make sure no one got stupid, all at the low price of the best battle axe DigDig had to offer. Then he had to go off on even more pressing business. DigDig really didn’t want to think about that part.

  “Sword?” asked an orc.

  “Out of swords,” DigDig repeated. “Take an axe.”

  “Got another?” asked the next orc. One waited for him in the bag. He walked away happy.

  “Hammer?” asked a hobgoblin. DigDig gave him a mace. It was as close as he could get.

  “Swords?” asked a bugbear. “I’m a dual-wielder.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” the little goblin muttered.

  “DigDig!” the shout broke through the crowd just ahead of its owner. War Cloud lead the way, pushing his way to the front with Scars and Yargol close behind. “You’re alright? Where are the others?”

  “Hey, get back in line,” growled an orc. Others joined in until no one could be heard.

  “Hold on,” said DigDig. He set the pack down on the ground, reached in with both hands and pulled out a bundle of spears. “Help with these.”

  War Cloud caught on. Larger hands and greater height made for easier work. He took up the bundle to pull them the rest of the way out and then tossed the spears over his head into the crowd. “Grab your own!”

  Orcs and hobgoblins instantly struggled for the collection of spears. Goblins scurried out of the crowd to escape falling bodies and trampling feet. The distraction bought the companions but a moment to speak.

  “Stuff went bad at the camp,” DigDig explained. His voice cracked. “Stole all these weapons, but Teryn got caught. Shady Tooth told me to bring back the goods, said she’d get Teryn. I’m sorry. Wanted to stay and help. Shady said this is too important.”

  “It’s alright, DigDig,” said Scars. “If it’s what she wanted, you did the right thing. We’ve got bad news, too.”

  DigDig shook his head. “More to tell. Teryn was right. Those aren�
��t bandits. Soldiers, all of them. Got a wizard with them, too. Think they’re setting up for a bigger attack.”

  “Then it’s as we expected, though not as bad as our revelation, I think,” said Yargol.

  “We didn’t get any aid from the druids,” Scars explained. “All we got is a warning about a bigger problem here in Zition.”

  “Oh, did they already know?” DigDig asked, his eyes wide.

  “Know what?”

  “Scars! DigDig!” called out another voice. The shift in the crowd allowed a brief line of sight before fading again. Shady Tooth elbowed and shoved her way through with the last of their companions. “We need to talk.”

  “Yes!” DigDig nearly yelped. He shot past his friends to throw his arms around Teryn.

  Standing with his shoulders only just above her waist, DigDig made for an awkward embrace but Teryn went with it. “Oh, we’re doing hugs now?”

  “Didn’t want to leave you. Shady Tooth said,” DigDig confessed.

  “It’s alright. You did the right thing.”

  DigDig released her and turned to Shady Tooth. She frowned down at him. “Don’t hug me.”

  “Right.” DigDig nodded. “Glad to see you.”

  “Don’t make it any mushier than that. Scars, we’ve got bad news,” Shady Tooth told him.

  “Plenty of that to go around,” he agreed.

  “Gets worse,” DigDig warned.

  “Barret and his jerks are only scouting ahead of a larger attack,” said Teryn. “The garrison is coming up the pass. I saw copies of the orders. The trench and the berm won’t be enough.”

  “Big problem inside the camp, too,” said DigDig.

  “What’s wrong in the camp?” asked Shady Tooth.

  “We were right about that abomination out in the woods,” said War Cloud. He lowered his voice, wary of others hearing. The distraction caused by the spears had nearly played itself out. “He was drawn out here by something in the camp. Something ancient and evil is buried here.”

  “The druids claim they won’t help us because of it, but they also don’t want us to mess with it,” said Scars. “Which tells me we need to take care of it ourselves.”

  “That’s bad, but not the worst,” said DigDig.

  Scars looked down to the goblin. “You keep saying there’s more. What is it?”

  DigDig winced as he looked to Shady Tooth. “You’re gonna hate this more than any of us.”

  * * *

  “I’m not saying you’re a bad mayor. I’m saying it’s unfair to cling to a monopoly on power in a changing situation when new alternatives arise. The people should have a choice.”

  “You got here half an hour ago,” said Karana. “We are not holding some new contest of leadership just because you turned up.”

  “Why? Because I’m male, or because I’m a troll?” He barely fit under Karana’s roof, keeping his head ducked down to avoid bumping the makeshift rafters. It gave him an excuse to loom directly over her desk. Big yellow eyes stared down at her from a drawn and thin blue face marked with pustules and boils. “Which is it?”

  Karana stood from her chair, staring back and refusing to be intimidated. “You’re welcome to stay. You will not be in charge.”

  “That’s not an answer. Why are you stonewalling? Are you afraid to engage because you don’t have a decent argument?”

  “I don’t need an argument.”

  “Typical. Won’t even debate on it. Can’t imagine why.”

  “The position of mayor is not up for challenge.”

  “Oh, appealing to authority, huh? You know that’s a logical fallacy.”

  “Is it?” asked Ruck, standing beside Karana’s desk with one hand leaning on his new axe.

  “That’s not how logical fallacies work,” she snapped.

  “Getting emotional about it, aren’t you?” the troll asked. He looked to Ruck. “Maybe the job is more than she can handle. Don’t you think she looks—?”

  The door flew open behind him, drawing everyone’s attention. Scars entered with his shield on his arm and blood in his eyes. He wasn’t alone.

  “Son of a bitch,” Chatter growled. The troll looked from one face to the next, finding the whole crew in the doorway or just outside it. “I hoped I’d find you lot alive someday so I could kill you all myself.”

  “Karana, we need to talk.” Scars stepped around Chatter to approach Karana’s desk, but kept his gaze on the newcomer all along. “Right away.”

  “Too bad. Dying time now,” said Chatter.

  “You’re not in the wizard’s dungeon with allies to help. This battleground won’t favor you,” said War Cloud.

  “You will not fight in my hut,” Karana warned.

  “Won’t be much of a fight,” said Chatter.

  “You would be mistaken,” said Yargol.

  “Let’s find out.”

  “No. I’ll have you burned from this camp, troll,” Karana pressed.

  He turned back to her with a scowl. “Oh, what’s that supposed to mean? ‘Troll?’ Like I don’t have a name?”

  “Honestly I’d already forgotten it under all your other bullshit,” she sighed.

  “That’s how he works,” said Shady Tooth, her hands at the knives on her belt. “He badgers and floods the air with garbage until you can’t stand him anymore and then pretends it’s a failure on your part.”

  “It’s not my problem if you can’t handle what you hear,” said Chatter. He cracked his knuckles. “And we’re way beyond words now.”

  “Not here,” said Karana. “You will not fight here.”

  “Do you know what they did to me?” asked Chatter.

  “This is urgent,” Scars cut him off. “It’s about Zition’s safety. We need to talk privately.”

  “You’ve more than earned my time. Chatter hasn’t,” said Karana. She looked at the troll. “You can go now.”

  “Oh, I’m not leaving,” said Chatter. “I’m staying right here.”

  “The mayor asked for privacy,” said Ruck.

  “No, this backstabbing shit wants privacy, and I’m not letting him have it. What’s your plan, Scars? You going to piss in the mayor’s ear and tell her nasty things about me until she throws me out of the camp?”

  “We’re not going to talk about you at all,” said Scars.

  “Preposterous,” the troll scoffed. “Of course you’re here to talk about me. I’m not going anywhere. You can’t make me, and you know it.”

  “Chatter,” said Shady Tooth. The troll turned at the sound of his name. Without a word, Shady Tooth jammed both of her knives into his ears. The troll’s eyes bulged as he screamed in agony, but he jerked and froze in place rather than retaliating. Shady Tooth twisted the blades in his skull, drawing out further yelps and gurgles.

  Chatter’s arms hung limply at his sides. He fell to his knees staring blankly at her. “Ooogh!” the troll moaned.

  “Now you can talk,” said Shady Tooth.

  “Haaaaarrrrg,” Chatter warbled.

  “What’d you do, scramble his brains?” Karana asked.

  “He’s a troll. He’ll get over it,” said War Cloud.

  “Sssso racist,” the troll hissed mindlessly.

  “Gods, it’s like he doesn’t even need his brain to speak,” said Shady Tooth.

  War Cloud drew a dagger and jammed it into Chatter’s throat. The troll gurgled, but his yelps and howls were silenced.

  Rolling his eyes, Scars turned from the scene to Karana, who looked on with disdain. “We’ll clean up the blood on our way out.”

  “I should hope so,” Karana muttered. “What’s your urgent news? I heard someone’s handing out new weapons. Figured that had to be you.”

  “It is. Some of my crew scouted the bandit camp and raided their stores. Turns out those riders aren’t bandits at all. They’re scout cavalry in advance of a bigger attack on its way from the southern garrison. That’ll be hundreds more soldiers. They’ve conscripted people in Eastford for support. We could
get hit in another day, maybe two at the most.”

  “Shit. Guess we knew it was bound to happen sooner or later after the other night. I don’t suppose you stole enough weapons to arm the whole camp?”

  “No, and that’s not the worst of it.” Scars glanced over his shoulder to make sure Chatter still couldn’t hear. “Keep this quiet: the druids said my guys here were right about a corrupt power in Zition, except it’s under the camp. That’s bound to cause bigger problems. They refused to help even if we dealt with that corruption, but it’s still a threat. We need to deal with it fast.”

  “You got a plan for that?” asked Karana.

  “Working on it. We didn’t think we should push on without your knowledge.”

  “Whatever you think you can do, get on with it. I’ll have to trust you. Magical corruption is outside my skills. I’ve got a siege to prepare for, which is also outside my experience but I figure I can at least wing it. Anything else?”

  Scars looked back to the troll. “He’s an asshole.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know. Trolls may not be goblin folk, but they’re close enough. We take in anyone. It’s not like we have a morality standard for residence. Half the camp has at least some raiding or banditry in their pasts. Hell, we’ve got a priest of Ravaj and we let him give his sermons all he wants. I can’t throw someone out for being a loudmouth asshole.” She looked to Shady Tooth and War Cloud. “Can you get the blades out of him now? You’re all blocking the doorway. If he wants to fight, take it outside.”

  Exchanging a wary look, the pair jerked their blades free. Chatter sank lower, hands hitting the floor to hold his torso partly upright. Shady Tooth and War Cloud stepped back, one holding her knives tight while the other put away his dagger and made ready to draw his sword. Yargol remained in the doorway with Teryn and DigDig just outside. Scars made ready to jump Chatter from behind.

  They didn’t have to wait long, but his attack wasn’t physical. “Did they tell you...about the dungeon?” he rasped. “About how they escaped?”

  “I don’t concern myself with anyone’s past,” said Karana. “I don’t have the luxury.”