Forging the Half-Goblin Sorcerer

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Forging the Half-Goblin Sorcerer Page 33

by J. Craig Argyle


  The Queen Mothers asked Alrik if it was possible to forcibly seize the temple. They wanted to know how many entrances there were and how each could be defended. Alrik admitted the temple was vulnerable to attack but described the difficulty of holding it against a determined counterattack. There were too many entrances to defend, and goblins on the surface were better trained and possessed better weapons. He reminded his Queens that Tironock’s power was increasing and by moving to the temple they wouldn’t escape Tironock for long. Soon, he would take corporal form and ascend to the surface where he could assert his cruel power over all surface inhabitants.

  Alrik thought he had convinced the Queens it was folly to capture the temple, when the Queens informed him, “We have already appointed Ghad Samraet to lead the attack. He is a renegade commander in a hive to the south. He claims to have already trained two thousand soldiers. He is confident he can defeat the forces of goblins and men.”

  “How can you hope to hide your army from Tironock’s gaze?” the stunned Alrik asked the Queen Mothers.

  “We will not try,” the Queen Mothers replied. Revealing the full extent of their plan, the Queens say, “We will let Tironock believe the army is being created for his personal use. We will move to the surface before Tironock reaches his full power and leave the evil one behind. We hope to live in peace with the surface inhabitants, but if they oppose us, we will fight for our right to a place in the sun.”

  “But what of the carnage? Thousands of our kind will perish,” Alrik protested.

  “You have forgotten what our termite brothers taught us,” he was told. “Each of us exists only to serve the needs of the hive. As long as the hive prospers, all is well.”

  Alrik reported what he had learned to the temple leaders. Myrel now sat among them as an equal.

  Myrel spoke without hesitation. “I recommend we abandon the Septantrak. If we willingly turn the temple over to the white goblins, perhaps we can avoid a bloody war.”

  The elders were outraged by her suggestion. “We have occupied the temple for a thousand years and have worshipped in the caverns for thousands more. The temple is worth dying to defend,” was their unanimous response.

  “I understand the importance of the temple, and I, too, would die to preserve it if there was a chance of success. But in the end, after much life is lost, the temple will fall anyway. Then there will be little left of our religion to carry on,” Myrel argued. “Perhaps we should consult the Thaumaturgist,” she added.

  Because of Krage’s lengthy absences, the clerics were accustomed to managing the temple’s affairs; they had all but forgotten that the Thaumaturgist was still the leader of the faith. They reluctantly agreed to let Myrel contact Krage and inform him of the situation.

  ***

  She waits until evening when the tourists have vacated the caverns. She sits surrounded by the Stones of Septan. Bathed in the orange light of the flowing magma, she sends her spirit in search of Krage. She reasons he will by now be visiting one of the temple enclaves on the west coast. She finds him in the community ten leagues south of Halban by the Sea. He sits alone in his sleeping chamber, pondering what he has learned that evening from the enclave’s leader.

  Myrel’s youthful spirit enters the chamber and sits opposite her father. “Welcome, Daughter. What brings you?”

  “White goblins in the hive beneath Ardonbrae are preparing an army to invade the surface. Their plans are still vague, but it appears they want to seize the temple and hold it.”

  “Has Tironock ordered the goblins to attack the surface?” Krage asks.

  “According to Alrik, the Queen Mothers are hoping to escape Tironock’s tyranny by traveling to the surface before he comes to his full power. Tironock is aware of the army and has been led to believe it is being created to do his bidding. One more thing, Alrik says the Queen Mothers have chosen a military general to lead their army, a renegade commander named Ghad Samraet. He is living in a southern hive and already claims to have an army of two thousand.”

  “Prudently, we should evacuate the temple,” Krage responds, “but the temple clerics will never willingly abandon the mountain. We can at least remove the families and many of the servants to other locations. Inform the temple leaders to begin relocating their families. I will proceed directly to the capital. Expect me in a week.”

  Myrel’s spirit departs. Krage ponders over all he learned that day. The cleric overseeing the Halban by the Sea religious community informed him at dinner white wraiths had been seen on the Isle of Uisgebeatha. They are tunneling in the cliff below the castle. Duke Amin ordered all the underground passages below the castle guarded but not sealed. He believes if he seals the passages, the goblins will just redig them and take him in his sleep. Krage decides that his mother and his son should be made aware of the developments.

  His spirit finds his mother in the palace. The news Krage brings concerns her. “I will depart for the Isle of Uisgebeatha to investigate.” Myrel is surprised to learn of Meg’s abrupt decision and promises to join her on the isle in a fortnight.

  Krage’s spirit searches for his son, but Trak eludes him. He fails to find Trak in the Goblin Fortress on the eastern border. He traveles to King Red’s citadel where he again fails to sense Trak’s presence. He pauses for a moment when he catches a glimpse of Queen Meriem playing with two small children. In the morning Krage sets off for the capital.

  Krage meets Meg as she travels south. The distance she has already covered surprises him. Meg informs him of the location of Trak’s iron works at Dragonton. “Ye might find him in his broch,” she suggests. Krage is concerned that Meg has only her litter bearers for protection on the road. He asks Hogarth and his guards to escort his mother to the isle. Krage feels he is near enough to the capital to proceed alone.

  Deep in the earth, Tironock senses the spirits of the Thaumaturgist and his family conversing. He doesn’t know how the Thaumaturgist survived the venom of the rock viper, but he knows he lives and is once more plotting against him. Tironock closely monitors the growing strength of the earth’s magma. Each day his form becomes more corporal. Soon he will walk the surface and lead the goblins of the Underworld against the Thaumaturgist and all surface creatures. They will bow to him or be washed away in the flood unleashed.

  Chapter 33

  Once in an age, the Earth Spirit creates one who is meant to right a terrible wrong.

  Ghad Samraet

  Dragonton, Bretwalda: The Awakening

  In the lava field a league from where he built his iron works Trak sits comfortably. He studies the power of the earth. He considers what he has so far deduced. My power grows stronger close to a flow. Using the power, I am able to project my spirit over great distances. I can reach the distant capital as easily as places close by. The power enables me to converse with members of my family and the evil presence inhabiting the earth. I am able to link my thoughts directly to the minds of men and goblins. Or can I? Perhaps, it was the Earth Spirit who spoke, and I was merely the Earth Spirit’s chosen vessel.

  Krage shot a ball of energy into the air to startle an opponent, and I, or perhaps it was the Earth Spirit, sent a shower of sparks falling on men and goblins gathered for the exchange of the queen. The sparks that fly from my sword, Dragon Fire, seem to be another manifestation of the same phenomenon. All uses of the power can be characterized as a two-step process. First, one gathers the Earth’s energy and then one hurls something. It could be a bolt of energy, a thought, or even one’s spirit.

  Trak wonders if he is able to hurl an object. He gathers power and wills a rock in front of him to move. It doesn’t budge. After an hour of trying, he gives up. He then tries sending his thoughts to Lord Ran, who is not a member of his family, and as far as he knows possesses no special gift. For five minutes he projects, “Wake up Ran! Meet me in the lava field!”

  It is late when Trak heads home to his broch. As he scampers over the lava, he reflects on the news Krage has given him of the pending att
ack on the temple. He meets Lord Ran coming toward him. Trak greets him with a smile. “Trak, I had the strangest feeling you needed me. Is everything all right?”

  Trak considers pretending he doesn’t know what Ran is talking about, but decides that is crying wolf. If Ran thinks I have played a joke on him he might not respond when I really need him. “I stumbled into a fissure and didn’t think I could get out. I called for your help, but was able to free myself before you arrived. Thank you for coming to my aid.”

  “I’m glad you are not seriously injured. Why do you walk about the lava bed in the dark? It is not safe,” Ran responds with a hint of mockery in his voice to hide his unease with Trak’s ability to penetrate his mind.

  When Trak and Ran approach their brochs, they encounter Ghad Samraet waiting. It is the first time the renegade commander has visited his broch. Ghad looks cautiously at Lord Ran and waits for the man to depart before speaking. “Events in the Underworld are unfolding rapidly. I thought I should bring you a warning.”

  Trak starts to invite Ghad into his broch but realizes the white goblin is more comfortable outside. They go into the gardens. “I am building an army for the Queen Mothers who rule the hive beneath Ardonbrae,” he announces.

  Trak responds, “You hope to seize the temple. In so doing, you hope to escape the influence of Tironock.”

  Ghad looks startled. “I came to warn you so the families in the temple could evacuate, but I see they have already been warned. I don’t relish the idea of families being killed in the attack. The Queen Mothers are growing desperate. They are prepared to risk everything in an attempt to escape Tironock’s influence.”

  Trak ponders for a moment before saying, “I have long wondered what you would do with the army you have trained.”

  “You know of my army?” exclaims Ghad with distress in his voice.

  “You didn’t expect me to think that you created your hive just to harbor thousands of unemployed masons did you? When you agreed to build fortifications for me, I considered the possibility your plan was to seize the fortresses and use them as strongholds from which to launch an invasion of the south.”

  Ghad replies, “If you suspected I might seize the fortresses for my own use, why did you ask me to assist you, and why haven’t you sealed the subterranean tunnels that allows me access to them?”

  “King Red needed defenses. I needed masons to build them. I reasoned that you were no fool. Seizing the fortifications and fighting King Red is but one of the options you had to consider, and not your best option. Your goal is the survival of your people. In the end, you know there is more to be gained by being useful to King Red. Occupying the fortifications would gain you little; it would cause King Red to attack. You are far safer hidden in your hive where King Red would be foolish to root you out. You can seize the fortifications any time after better options have failed.”

  “If you know all that, can you guess why I have come to you this evening?” Ghad asks. Trak had not given the matter much thought, but apparently he has come for more than to deliver his warning about the temple. Trak hesitates, and it is Ghad’s turn to grin, “I see I may at last surprise you. I have come to ask you to be my sorcerer and to help me defeat Tironock.”

  “Are you mad? How can you defeat a demigod?” Trak questions the commander’s sanity.

  “Tironock is no natural deity. He should never have existed. He was created by misguided magic and by magic he can be destroyed.”

  Trak ponders for a moment. “There is more to you than I know. What magic can stop Tironock?”

  “My name is Ghad Samraet. It means Honorable Emperor. My ancestors were the first kings of the Underworld. When Septan, the first Thaumaturgist, in his madness ripped the Earth Spirit into two parts, he released Tironock Kan. Those who were able fled to the surface in what we call the First Sowing. Those left behind became Tironock’s slaves. For millennia my ancestors have schemed for a way to free ourselves from this great evil. Many have died trying. Painfully, we have studied Tironock’s weaknesses and learned how we might defeat him. Now our time grows short. Each day the magma in the earth flows more strongly, and the evil one becomes more powerful. I fear you and I are the goblins’ last hope.”

  “Me?” blurts Trak. “Why do you include me in your crazy scheme?”

  “You have pretended too long. You have a destiny which will overtake you, whether you wish it or not,” the goblin commander answers.

  “I have abandoned the Septantrak and the kingdom of King Lorring,” Trak insists.

  “That may be, but the Earth Spirit hasn’t abandoned you,” retorts the commander, as he stands facing Trak. “Eight years ago, when the Spirit spoke through you, I heard the voice commanding me to prepare for the Second Sowing. That is when I came south to rebuild the hive beneath your feet and prepare an army for the task. I have waited eight years for you to grasp the vision of your destiny, but time is running out. I need a sorcerer to prepare a trap to destroy Tironock. Perhaps, you need a small push.”

  Trak reflects, Eight years. Has it been so long? What do I have to show for eight years? I have built an iron works and done King Red’s bidding. Is this all I was meant to do in life? Trak asks Ghad, “Why are you so sure it is my destiny?”

  “Each member of the hive is bred to perform a specific task. Some are meant to be workers, some to be warriors and others to rule. Once in an age, the Earth Spirit creates one who is meant to right a terrible wrong and free his people. The odor that each member of the hive emanates marks him and identifies his function in the hive. Your scent is unmistakable. You are of House Dragon and the Earth Spirit’s chosen one. Do you really think it is a coincidence you are a descendent of Septan through two lineages?”

  Trak reflects on what Ghad proclaimed. Once before, he denied a truth obvious to all others. He was the last to comprehend he was Krage’s son. Had he made the same mistake again? Was he meant to be the 60th Thaumaturgist of the Septantrak and a leader in the struggle against Tironock Kan? Was he wallowing in self-doubt when he had a task to perform? “What would you have me do?” Trak asks Ghad.

  “Come with me to the Isle of Uisgebeatha. There, you will craft the magic needed to vanquish the demigod,” Ghad replies.

  Chapter 34

  Isle of Uisgebeatha: A Breach of Goblin Custom

  When Krage returns to the temple, he and Myrel meet with the clerics. Except for Alrik, the clerics are adamant in their opposition to surrendering the Septantrak to the white goblins. Krage decides not to force the issue and chooses to compromise. All families will be evacuated and the temple’s most precious relics and documents sent to distant enclaves. If the temple is attacked, the remaining clerics will flee without attempting an armed defense. They would rely on the king’s army to regain the temple.

  Myrel leaves the temple to join her grandmother on the Isle of Uisgebeatha. When she arrives, her grandmother has already been there a fortnight. Myrel treks the familiar path to the old goblin’s cave and walks in on her grandmother unannounced. Myrel sees the cave has been renovated. The surfaces are swept clean and freshly oiled parchment covers the window. Still, the cave seems barren without her grandmother’s plants drying from the cave’s roof.

  Myrel greets Meg and asks how she accomplished so much, when Baelock enters. Myrel is astonished to see that Meg and Baelock actually look embarrassed. Even to Myrel, who is naïve and inexperienced in romance, the situation is obvious. Where Meg goes, Baelock always follows. Meg confesses, though they differed in age by a generation, the smith has been her lover for thirty-five years. Myrel grins sheepishly at her grandmother; she is more shocked by her resilient ardor than by her breach of goblin custom. “Baelock has built ye a hut. We thought ye needed privacy,” Meg informs her granddaughter.

  To spare them the need for further explanation, Myrel asks, “What have you learned? Are the reports of white goblins on the island true?”

  Meg replies, “Several months ago, villagers reported seeing white goblins em
erge from a cave at night and dump rock tailings into the sea. Lord Farg and Neafon Damnfury, the captain of the household guard, entered the cave to investigate. They ventured a league down a tunnel, but made no contact with wraiths. Farg reports the tunnel continues deep into the earth. Farg knows we are here and asks us to notify him if we discover anything new.”

  Baelock adds, “On several nights, I have sat on the cliff and watched hundreds of white goblins emerge from the cave to throw bundles of rocks into the sea. We don’t know where their tunnel is headed, but it grows longer each day.”

  “We can learn no more by watching from the cliff. We must enter the tunnel and follow it to its end to learn what our subterranean brothers are up to,” Meg announces. “Tonight, after the white goblins have deposited their last bundle of rock, Baelock and I will follow them into the Underworld. We will have all day to observe. We hope to return to the surface before they begin transporting tomorrow night’s load. We may find it necessary to hide in the tunnel for a day or two. If we don’t return in three days, ask Lord Farg to mount a rescue.” Her grandmother’s instructions seem clear enough.

  Myrel retires to the hut Baelock built for her. She is awakened in the night by a voice repeatedly calling, “Mother are you home?” Myrel looks out of her hut toward her grandmother’s cave. She sees a man standing at the door. Myrel wonders what a man is doing on the island. The stranger looks at Myrel and begins walking toward her. “Have you seen the old goblin?” he asks. As he draws nearer, Myrel realizes the visitor is not a man at all but a tall cross-breed. Myrel starts to say that the old goblin is not at home when her heart skips. Even in the dark, she recognizes Trak, whom she has not seen for eight years. “Trak, is that you?” she asks.

  Trak recognizes her voice before she emerges from the shadows and he glimpses her face. “Myrel! Myrel, what are you doing here?” Trak exclaims.

  “I live here. Why are you here?” Myrel responds.

  “You live here? How is that possible? I thought you were a Temple Initiate.” Trak replies.

 

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