Forging the Half-Goblin Sorcerer

by J. Craig Argyle

  As he ponders his future, a scraping sound creeps into Trak’s consciousness. Something is rubbing against the side of the broch. He peers over the edge and is startled to see three, nearly naked, white goblins scaling the side of his broch. They are using hand hooks to grasp the cracks between the rocks. Trak watches the goblin nearest him draw a dagger and climb through his bedchamber window two levels below. His danger is immediate. Soon, there will be three assailants upon him. He is unarmed and trapped on the roof. Where can he hide?

  When the intruders burst onto the roof, they find it empty. The three white goblins turn and head back down the circular staircase. Trak pulls himself back onto the roof. He had just enough time to tie his leather belt to a battlement hook and hang himself over the edge before the attackers appeared. Fortunately, they didn’t take time to look over the broch’s edge.

  Trak knows that when the intruders fail to find him in the kitchen below they will return and commence a more thorough search. Trak moves quickly down the stairs to his bedchamber to retrieve Dragon Fire. It is gone. The assailants stole it. Trak can hear them below, again ascending the stairs. Except for his Dragon Fire, the attackers are armed only with daggers, and he has the size advantage. He grabs a chair for a shield and a stout poker from the fire place. He meets the attackers in the spiral staircase where they are forced to come at him one at a time.

  As the first goblin rounds the corner, Trak thrusts the poker into his face. He screams and falls back. The second goblin, armed with the Dragon Fire, takes his place. The bend in the staircase keeps the goblin from delivering a clean strike. The best the marauder can do is whittle away at the chair until it has lost all its legs. Trak is forced to back up the staircase. The poker is too short to strike effectively. It is just a matter of time before the sword finds him. It is then the attacker collapses and falls backwards down the stairs.

  “Is that the last of them?” Trak hears Ran ask.

  “I saw three,” Trak answers back. Trak descends the stairs to find Ran holding a drawn bow. Two dead attackers lay on the floor. Ran hands Trak Dragon Fire, “I’d hate to see you lose your favorite sword. The third attacker escaped, but he will not get far; he has my arrow in his back.”

  Trak regards the fallen assailants. Never before has he seen a white goblin. “I think they are Spore from the Underworld,” he tells Ran who is quite surprised to learn that goblins inhabit the earth beneath his feet.

  “What are they doing here?” Ran asks.

  “I’m not certain, but I believe their purpose was to kill me,” Trak replies.

  “It must have something to do with your being a Thaumaturgist,” Ran suggests.

  “But I gave that up. I’m not a Thaumaturgist and don’t intend to ever become one,” Trak retorts.

  “Apparently, not everyone has heard about your resignation,” Ran surmises. “How did they get here?”

  “They probably crawled to the surface through some underground passage that lies nearby.”

  “Gobshite!” curses Lord Ran. He has been around Trak long enough to pick up the goblin swear word. “Lock your doors and windows; you should be safe. Tomorrow, we will look for this mysterious tunnel.” He leaves before Trak remembers to thank him for his rescue.

  Trak wonders if the appearance of white goblins is connected to some major event in the north, such as the death of Krage. He needs to find out. He calms himself and projects his spirit to the Isle of Uisgebeatha and finds his grandmother’s cave dark and hearth cold. Has the old goblin died? Despite his reluctance to contact Krage, he needs to know what has happened to his grandmother. He lets his spirit wander the Septantrak in search of his father but finds no trace.

  In the morning, Lord Ran has the corpses of the white goblins dragged in front of the workers. He announces, “Last night, three wraiths attacked Lord Dragonfire. They are goblins from the Underworld. Lord Trak believes they reached the surface through a tunnel that is somewhere nearby. We must find the tunnel and seal it before we are all butchered in our sleep. Today, every available worker will be assigned to a team. We will begin a systematic search.”

  A team of workers, searching the face of the cliff below the broch, explored a deep crag. They report to Lord Ran that they found, deep within, a tunnel cut into the rock. “What should we do—seal it?” Ran asks Trak.

  “Perhaps, eventually, but first it needs to be explored to discover if there are side branches that also lead to the surface.” Lord Ran positions five guards at the exit. He, Trak and two volunteers enter the tunnel, light their torches and proceed down a steep slope into the darkness.

  Chapter 25

  Main Hive, beneath Neu Ardonbrae: The Rock Viper Pit

  When Alrik returns from his second foray to the Great Hall, he brings grim news. “Tironock is coming. He will personally supervise the execution of the Thaumaturgist. The Queens say he intends to throw Krage into a pit filled with rock vipers. The Queens want to help Krage, but they are powerless to directly confront Tironock.”

  Myrel asks, “How can we enter the hive and rescue my father.”

  Alrik explains, “It is impossible for a cross-breed. Your odor is too man-like and easily detected. I suggest that you and High Priestess begin to ascend the tunnel to the surface. I will go and attempt to free Krage. If I’m successful, we may have to flee quickly, and Meg will need a head start.”

  Myrel assists Meg along the tunnel leading to the surface while Alrik returns to the Great Hall and stands along the wall conversing with another commander. “This is one spectacle I thought you would avoid,” notes the acquaintance. “You will suffer a similar fate if you think to interfere.”

  “I don’t care much for executions, but I want to see Tironock for myself,” Alrik responds.

  “Are you feeble minded? The last time the demon came, he killed six Spore merely to assert his authority.”

  “That is why I’m standing close to a door,” Alrik replies. Despite the danger posed by Tironock’s whims, the hall is full. The ruling caste of the goblin hive is expected to attend. Alrik watches Krage; he seems calm but alert. He understands he is to be Tironock’s entertainment.

  Tironock doesn’t enter through a door. He simply materializes. First there is a tremor, and then the dust on the floor of the hall sweeps up in a cyclonic wind. Out of the swirling dust, Tironock takes shape. He does not become completely corporal. His limbs oscillate in and out of view, even after the dust settles. He appears as a flickering red giant with enormous snake-like horns emerging from his skull. The horns are covered with rough scales that mimic the patterns of the rock viper. Yellow smoke and red flames spew from his mouth when he speaks. He announces himself with a arrogant, deep laugh that shakes the cavern as his snake-like horns twist and rattle.

  He stands eyeing Krage while his limbs alternatively fade into transparent shadows and then reform. “I have known many Thaumaturgists. They are a pitifully weak lot.” Tironock laughs again. “The time of the Thaumaturgists is over. You are looking at the last of his kind. This one’s children have abandoned the faith of their fathers. The surface goblins will soon be swept away by the Second Sowing. My power grows; nothing can oppose me.”

  If Krage is frightened, he doesn’t show it. Krage knows all men die, and if this is his time he can accept death.

  “Throw the vermin into the pit,” Tironock commands.

  Four white wraiths push Krage to the edge of a pit, fifteen-feet deep, and shove him over the side. The impact of the fall knocks the air from his lungs. A long chain still connects his hands to the wall above. There is sufficient slack in the chain to allow Krage to move about the pit. The assembled subterraneans watch as out of a crevice slithers a large viper, three strides in length. It has the diamond-shaped head that characterizes all vipers. Its girth, thick as a goblin’s waist, is covered with rough, red and black scales.

  Krage stands his ground. The snake coils a few feet in front of Krage, rears and pulls back its head to strike. It hesitates too lon
g as it plays with its prey. Krage loops the loose chain that binds his wrists around the snake’s neck and yanks hard. The links of the chain sever the snake’s head.

  Audible groans are heard throughout the chamber. The unexpected outcome will surely anger Tironock Kan. “Shorten his chain,” the demigod roars.

  Krage feels a jerk on his chain. The slack is gone. He is now standing in the pit with his hands stretched over his head. He can swivel and swing, but his movements always bring him back to the same spot. Krage doesn’t have to wait long for more snakes to appear. They come out of fissures in the pit wall before the body of the first snake has stopped twisting in its death throes.

  Alrik is powerless to help. The goblins, fearing Tironock, would kill him immediately if he makes a move to aid Krage. He has to wait. Krage is not done yet. He sends a flash of blue light at the closest snake; it burst into flames. Krage attempts to swing out of the path of a third snake as it strikes. He isn’t quick enough. The snake buries his fangs in Krage’s thigh.

  Tironock roars his approval. He stands watching the paralytic venom course through Krage’s body. Krage is still conscious but his muscles have stopped responding. He hangs limply as wraith soldiers pull him from the pit. “Throw him in the compost pile and let him watch the worms eat his flesh.” Tironock laughs and slowly vanishes.

  The guards begin dragging Krage out of the pit. Alrik steps forward and orders the guards to lift the body and carry it. “The Queens don’t want blood and guts smeared across the Great Hall,” he barks. At the huge compost heap where all the hive’s garbage and night soil are tossed, Alrik orders the body thrown into the deepest part. Fortunately, Krage lands face up. “That’s it, back to your posts,” Alrik commands.

  Alrik waits for the guards to depart before wading out into the muck and dragging Krage to the side. Krage still has a pulse, but his chest is barely moving. The poison affects the muscles of his chest and diaphragm. Alrik inhales deeply and blows air onto Krage’s lungs.

  ***

  Meg and Myrel enter the ruins of Ardonbrae and find a hiding place to wait for Alrik. They wait for hours. They have food but no appetite. It has been too long. Myrel laments, “By now Krage and probably Alrik, as well, are dead.”

  “I fear ye are right, child. Stay here and wait for my signal. When ye hear my voice, gather the power of the earth and draw the evil one toward ye. Tarry only a minute, then flee. I go to do what I can.” Meg shuffles back down the steps that lead to the hive.

  Meg makes no attempt to hide herself. She meets subterraneans who step aside to let her pass. Her odor is unfamiliar but not too unlike the scent of a Queen Mother. When she arrives at the compost field, she finds Alrik holding Krage whose breathing has ceased. He is alive only because for hours Alrik has poured his breath into the Thaumaturgist’s lungs. Alrik is exhausted; a look of desperation is on his face.

  Tironock Kan materializes within the goblin hive beneath

  Holy Mountain.

  ***

  Meg opens the small medicine bag she carries and removes the vial labeled “Atterlothe.” The bottle is ancient, its contents dried and caked. Meg spits into the bottle. It is the only liquid she has. She cautiously drips the half-dissolved Atterlothe into Krage’s mouth and waits between drops for a response. For hours there is no change in Krage’s condition. Alrik continues to breathe for the two of them. He is resigned to stay with Krage until he either responds or dies.

  Subterraneans begin to gather in the cavern and stand silently watching. A Queen Mother chants a prayer to Shenal Ken, asking for help. Alrik never stops sustaining Krage’s life. At last, Krage’s fingers tighten on Alrik’s wrist and the observers hear Krage suck air. It takes hours more before Krage can begin to stand.

  The Queen Mother speaks, “I fear thy efforts are in vain for Tironock is returning.” It is true. Meg smells the odor of brimstone filling the cavern.

  With all the will she can muster, Meg projects, “Now! Draw Tironock to ye!”

  Myrel hears the command as she waits in the ruined city of Ardonbrae. From the lava flowing in the chasm below, she fills herself with the Earth’s power and projects a thought at the demigod. “I will have my revenge!”

  The thought catches Tironock unaware. He is contemptuous and furious. “Another of Septan’s lineage dares challenge me? She, too, will die,” he bellows. Tironock interrupts his efforts to materialize in the hive and sends his presence up the tunnel in Myrel’s direction.

  “We must make haste,” Meg says to Alrik, who is almost too exhausted to move. Then, five subterraneans step forward. Three lift Krage and the other two supported Meg and Alrik as they move back to the surface.

  By the time they reach the ruined city, Krage is able to speak. “Everything considered, my rescue went rather well.”

  “It is not over yet. We must find Myrel,” Meg cautions.

  Alrik points ahead. Myrel is standing in the path in front of them. They exchange embraces, despite the filth covering Krage and Alrik. When Myrel learns that Meg has given Krage Atterlothe, she asks Meg, “Where did you find it?”

  “On the tombs of my ancestors, a lifetime ago.”

  “How did you escape Tironock?” Alrik asks Myrel.

  “As Tironock materialized, I hid in a fissure. He stomped about, cursing me. But as I had ceased to project my thoughts and allowed the the Earth’s power to dissipate, he couldn’t sense where I was hidden. He gave up and dissolved into the air.”

  ***

  The subterraneans accompany the four surface dwellers to the tunnels beneath the temple and then without speaking depart. It is late in the night when the party reenters the temple. Myrel accompanies Meg to the palace while Alrik escorts Krage to his private quarters where they both collapse. In the late morning Krage stirs from his deep sleep and baths in the tub of warm water Alrik has prepared. After he eats Krage feels much better, but the tissues adjacent to the fang marks are festering and a pain throbs in his thigh.

  Alrik briefs Krage on developments in the city during the last year. “The king has just returned to the palace and Lord Lizardthroat is in a conciliatory mood. It is probably safe for you to come out of hiding.” Krage considers if there is some way he can use his reappearance to advantage. For the present, he will remain in the temple and keep his return a secret from all but a few.

  In the afternoon, Meg and Myrel visit Alrik and Krage. Meg prepares an astringent of boiled seaweed for Krage’s festering wound. Myrel reports what has happened in the city during the six days they were in the Underworld. “To settle their dispute, King Giforing has agreed to abdicate and allow his son to take the throne. Lorring's coronation as the next Ard Ri will take place in the spring after his marriage to Dorla.” Myrel adds sarcastically, “Dorla is thrilled.”

  “The agreement calls for Lord Lizardthroat to be appointed to the newly created position of Chief Advisor to the King.” Krage winces at this revelation. The Thaumaturgist has always regarded himself as the king’s advisor.

  Meg decides to delay her departure from the capital, and Myrel opts to wait until Meg is ready to depart and accompany her back to the Isle of Uisgebeatha. The temple has other plans for Myrel. A week after she returns from the Underworld, she is summoned. She enters Alrik’s office to find he is not alone. In addition to the Thaumaturgist, the room is crowded with the Septantrak’s religious leaders.

  When she is seated, Alrik speaks. “We have been discussing the results of your Initiate’s Trial. Your performance was most unusual, but we agree that you are potentially a great asset to the Septantrak and would like you to take the Vow of Septan and become an Initiate. Before you decide, we would like to meet with you and discuss what being an Initiate entails.”

  Myrel is shocked by the audacity of the temple leaders and has to suppress the rising bitterness she feels against those who put her life in peril. When she hesitates, Krage speaks up, “I believe it is your intention to return to the Isle of Uisgebeatha with the High Priestess, but you
owe it to yourself to learn all you can before making a final decision.” Myrel reluctantly agrees to meet with Alrik one more time. Based on what she hears, she will decide.

  The next day Myrel and Alrik meet on the balcony of his apartment. He serves tea and begins reminiscing over their rescue of Krage. Myrel becomes impatient and asks Alrik to get to the point. Alrik begins, “You must understand the Septantrak finds itself in a difficult position. Many in government positions do not support the current Thaumaturgist. There is talk of replacing him, and the Thaumaturgist is considering stepping down. According to our beliefs, only another of Septan’s lineage can replace him. Meg is too old to resume the position. When Krage dies or steps aside, you are the Septantrak’s best hope.”

  “When we were in the goblin hive, you said there is another,” Myrel reminds him.

  “That is true, but he is less prepared and less willing than you to accept the responsibility.” He has chosen to remain in seclusion. I cannot tell you more. It is best if his identity is not known.”

  Myrel cannot guess the person’s identity. Perhaps her father has children by other women. Myrel shares her thoughts with the cleric. “As a child living in the temple, I found the religious instructions to be unconvincing, even delusional. Recent events in my life have shown me there is some truth in the ancient beliefs. I now believe that powerful forces threaten the future of all goblins. I have discovered my ability to project my spirit. It is a remarkable gift, but I have limited personal knowledge of the supernatural world. If I were meant to be Thaumaturgist, wouldn’t Shenal Ken, herself, call me?”

  “Yes, she would,” Alrik replies. “In truth, the Spirit and not the leaders of the Septantrak choose the Thaumaturgist. For the moment, she has Krage, but the day will come when she must choose another. The clerics in the Septantrak cannot see your future, but we can help you prepare should you be the one chosen.”

  Myrel returns to the issue that burns at her. “My Initiate’s Trial almost killed me.”