Blood of Liscor: Book 8, page 47
part #8 of Wandering Inn Series
“Durene, thank you for coming. Please give me one moment.”
The half-Troll girl nodded and waited, watching Wiskeria discuss the new situation with her officers. Tessia, Gamel’s girlfriend, was here as well. The [Engineer] looked beside herself as Wiskeria spoke to her.
“I don’t know how they did it! Yes, you can make a trebuchet, but that was far, far too quick. They must have copied our design! We have range and power—not to mention accuracy—on them, but I can’t stop them from making more.”
“Can we make more?”
Tessia hesitated.
“We’ve been trying, but few of the [Soldiers] have [Carpenter] classes or so on. And we have to train them to use the trebuchet or else the engineering team will be stuck operating that.”
“That’s a no, then.”
“If we brought everyone from Riverfarm or had more help we could rely on…”
Tessia trailed off helplessly. Wiskeria nodded and tugged the pointed hat lower on her head. She often did that when she was thinking. At last, she looked up.
“Try and aim for those trebuchets. I know they’re hidden. Just…guess. And keep breaking the walls. Everyone else—we have to stay put. If we pull back any further, the Goblins could make a break for it. We’ll set up the sleeping tents and bedrolls out of range, but I want the army to stay put.”
She dismissed Tessia and the others and turned to Durene at last. Beniar growled as he folded his arms.
“Goblins building trebuchets! Those little thieving bastards will steal anything, won’t they?”
“This is the most dangerous tribe I’ve ever encountered. That Chieftain and those wolf riders—I’m almost certain this is the Redfang Tribe we’ve heard about. Only, they belong in the High Passes.”
Wiskeria rubbed at her eyes tiredly. Around Durene and Beniar, she slumped a bit. Durene shifted awkwardly.
“How’re you doing, Wiskeria? Do you think the Goblins are going to attack?”
“Not likely. They’re safe in their city. We could attack them, but they’d be fools to attack us. The trebuchets make things more complicated. We could have hoped to bombard them until they had to leave. Instead, they’ll eventually hit our siege weapons or do enough damage to us at the same time. We can either trade shots or—”
“Charge the monsters!”
Beniar made a fist and punched it into his gauntleted hand. He looked excited at the prospect. Wiskeria did not.
“It’s an option. One I’ve informed Laken of. But even if we put another dozen holes in the walls, I wouldn’t be happy with it.”
“Why not? We outnumber the Goblins!”
“And they have the city walls. And they have Hobs, their wolf riders, and at least one [Mage] capable of throwing lightning. They’re dangerous, Beniar.”
“So are we.”
The [Captain] glanced at Durene, nodding confidently. Durene looked back at Wiskeria. The [Witch] was shaking her head. Durene understood the issue, although she didn’t know what the best solution was. She had one real question, though.
“Why am I here, Wiskeria? I’m just a warrior. A [Paladin], yeah, but I’m no good with strategy.”
She was a fighter. It was an odd thought to have, but Durene felt right when she was in the thick of battle. Having people look up to her, being depended on, was a giddy feeling. She trusted Wiskeria to do her job. But it seemed the [General] had summoned her for other reasons. Wiskeria strode over to the tent flaps and closed them firmly.
“I’ve been in touch with Emperor Laken. Via [Message] spell. He’s told me to continue hitting the Goblins. Given the situation, he wants to assault the city as soon as possible, rather than risk them making more trebuchets or worse, escaping.”
“Sounds good. When do we go in?”
Wiskeria ignored Beniar. She focused on Durene, meeting her eyes.
“I’ve asked him to wait. And I’d like you to do the same, Durene. I think he’d listen if you asked him to delay for a day or two.”
For a moment, Durene was so astonished she couldn’t speak. Wiskeria wanted her to speak to Laken. She stared at Wiskeria, and then her brows shot together.
“You want me to talk to Laken?”
“That’s right.”
Durene stirred. She glared at Wiskeria and stood a bit straighter.
“And say what? Not to fight? They’re Goblins, Wiskeria! Look at them! They destroyed the city! Didn’t you see all the homeless people we passed by?”
She pointed furiously, forgetting that Wiskeria had just closed the tent flaps. The memory of the homeless refugees the army had passed was clear in Durene’s mind, though. Wiskeria didn’t reply right away. She tugged on her hat’s brim again.
“I understand your feelings, Durene. But strategically—”
“Laken wants to attack, doesn’t he? He saw how many Goblins there were!”
“Yes he did. But he hasn’t seen this city. His…vision…has been compromised with each lost marker.”
“But he’s still our [Emperor]. Your [Emperor]. Why not trust him?”
Durene glared down at Wiskeria. Her voice was fierce. Durene wanted to grab her club and attack the Goblins. She felt—she had never felt so angry before! Righteous fury gave her strength. But Wiskeria just tugged at her pointed hat and sighed.
“He’s not always right.”
The half-Troll girl hesitated. That was true. But he’d been pretty right so far! She was just about to tell Wiskeria that and ask what else they could do when someone knocked urgently at the tent flap. Durene turned as a [Soldier] pulled the tent flap back.
“General! General Wiskeria!”
“What is it?”
Wiskeria snapped at the [Soldier], clearly displeased about being interrupted without warning. But the young woman who entered was breathless. She pointed back into the center of camp where Durene could see people pointing and gathering.
“General, you have to see this.”
Durene hurried out of the tent with Wiskeria and Beniar following. The half-Troll girl saw clearly over the heads of the people and horses. She saw a lone figure riding out of the city with a flag waving over his head. She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and stared again.
“A Human?”
Wiskeria stared as well. She looked around and found the [Mage] that Lady Bevia had loaned to Laken. She waved at him and raised her voice.
“Send a [Message] to Emperor Laken. He’ll want to know about this.”
——
Day 105
“You’re serious. A peace offer? That’s seriously what Wiskeria heard?”
“Yes sir.”
Nesor stands in front of me. Again, I sit at Wiskeria’s table. It might as well be our war cottage at the moment. It’s private, and we’ve set up all the maps we need. I focus on my mental image of the camp. I can sense a good space around a wooden marker set up right next to Wiskeria’s tent. Heck, I can sense her offering the [Knight]—Sir Kerrig—a cup of tea in her tent. In every direction, I see soldiers. A good distance to the left, Tessia is overseeing another boulder being loaded into the trebuchet. But beyond that? Nothing.
In every direction, there’s only blankness. Not blackness, not static. Just emptiness. Every marker in the area has been destroyed and so I only have this one, solitary image of the war camp and the space in front of the city. Of course, I have many more markers set up in the nearby area, but the network is slowly collapsing. The Goblins have sent small teams out and are attempting to destroy each marker, and Wiskeria can’t spare enough men to cover every totem.
I curse as I feel another marker vanish and another part of my empire fade out of my mind. So many holes! If the Goblins wanted to escape, they would only have to run out of the city and take refuge in one of the blank spots. Assuming Wiskeria lost sight of them, they could make a break for it.
Would that be so bad? Yes, surely. They’d come back and raid my lands or do damage somewhere else. Or they could circle around, begin harrying Wiskeria’s army. The Goblins have already done so much damage. Which makes this latest revelation all the harder to accept.
“Peace. Really. This [Knight], Sir Kerrig, has been in the Goblin’s tribe the entire time. And only now does their Chieftain send him to sue for peace?”
“T-that’s what General Wiskeria reports, sir.”
I whistle softly. I can’t believe it. This has got to be a trick.
“Tell me again, Nesor. What exactly did this Sir Kerrig say?”
I hear the [Mage] gulp. Behind him, Lady Rie speaks up.
“Allow me, Emperor Laken.”
I nod, and Nesor gratefully steps back. Lady Rie speaks slowly. She’s been here practically every moment she’s not reassuring the nobility. Prost is keeping the village running, and Lady Rie—well, she’s helpful.
“This Sir Kerrig rode out of the besieged city carrying a white flag. He was intercepted by General Wiskeria’s soldiers and immediately met with her. He bears a message—this offer of peace—from the leader of this Goblin tribe. The Flooded Waters tribe, apparently. Not one I’ve ever heard of. Not the Redfang tribe that we had assumed they were. At any rate, he claims the Goblins can be reasoned with. This tribe is allegedly different. It isn’t part of the Goblin Lord’s forces or the raiding parties sent by this Great Chieftain. It may be that they’re willing to peacefully…negotiate.”
Lady Rie pauses. The silence in the cottage is incredible. Peacefully negotiate. No way. I hear her swallow and go on.
“Your Majesty, I don’t know what to believe. This man is a member of the Order of the Petal and General Wiskeria claims he isn’t enchanted, but still.”
“Order of the Petal? Where have I heard that name before?”
“Ah. An order of [Knights] that obeys Lady Bethal.”
“I see. And they’re trustworthy?”
“I have never heard of a member being impugned for lying, Emperor Laken. By Sir Kerrig’s account, he was part of a force that attacked this particular tribe and was captured.”
“Lady Bethal never mentioned that to me.”
“I imagine she wouldn’t have wanted to admit that fact. And Sir Kerrig was apparently given up for dead. The idea of a Goblin keeping a hostage alive—or rather, honoring any convention of war—is incredible.”
“And he’s not delusional? Or—enchanted?”
“General Wiskeria says she believes he is genuine, sire.”
I focus on the image of Sir Kerrig in my mind. Yes, I can ‘see’ him, standing in Wiskeria’s tent. He doesn’t look injured, and he seems animated enough. He’s…well, he’s in good shape. But everything about what he’s said has turned my mind upside down.
“And Wiskeria wants to hold off the attack because of this.”
“Yes. She’s reiterated her points about the dangers of sieging the city.”
Rie’s voice is cautious. I mutter under my breath, wishing Frostwing were here. Or Bismarck. Both animals have been getting restless without me. But they’d hardly fit in here. At last, I nod.
“Tell Wiskeria to hold off from attacking. Keep bombarding, though. Aim for the Goblins’ trebuchets if you can. How can they make them?”
“Apparently, they copied our designs from a distance.”
“Mist! Alright. Alright. Tell Wiskeria that I want her to send this Sir Kerrig to Riverfarm. Give him a small escort. Speed is key. Tell her to be ready to attack, though!”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Rie goes to confer with Nesor, and I sit back in my seat. A peace treaty? Or rather, peace talks? With a Goblin? How can I take this seriously?
No, that’s not what’s bothering me. What’s bothering me is what Wiskeria reported first. These Goblins aren’t like the others. They didn’t want to fight. They’re…peaceful? No. How could that be?
Intelligent Goblins? I can believe that. But peace? I think back to the Goblins raiding my village, the slaughter, the way they laughed and cut down my people. No. Goblins in stories have always been dangerous. Untrustworthy.
And yet, this is a world of fantasy. And Durene is half-Troll. By that logic, she would be—
That’s Durene. That’s someone who’s never hurt a fly! Okay, she raised pigs for slaughter. But she never killed anyone. And those Goblins—they slaughtered an army from Filk! I saw them attack the army! Unprovoked! They slaughtered the soldiers there.
However…a thought nags at me. Wasn’t that army chasing another group of Goblins? A tribe? I vaguely recall tipping off the city about a tribe of Goblins in their area.
No. No. If that were true, that would mean—
I look up. Well, I don’t ‘look’ at anything, but I raise my head.
“Lady Rie, tell Wiskeria that I want this Sir Kerrig in Riverfarm by the end of today. Gallop the horses and switch out as many as you need. I want to speak with him now.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
I can sense Wiskeria responding to my orders, giving some of her soldiers directions. Sir Kerrig is already moving, riding down the road. He disappears out of my range for a few moments and then reappears in another region I can still ‘see’ into. Meanwhile, I sit in the cottage and feel a twisting pain in my stomach. I know it well. If I had to describe it, it would be if I lost my cane and was wandering around a place I didn’t know. That vague, nebulous fear of the unknown.
Uncertainty. And in my mind, the trickle of doubt becomes a nagging worm of fear. I silently urge Sir Kerrig to move faster. He’s at the edge of my vision, racing down the road with a group of six soldiers. And behind him, sneaking into my lands, is another group of Goblins. They rush towards the marker with axes in hand and chop at it. Another spot goes dark. I pray I’m not making a mistake. At least I can still see Durene and my army camped around their marker. I will be able to see the battle if it happens.
If it happens. I was about to order Wiskeria to assault the city by the end of the day or tomorrow at the latest. Now I’m not so certain. I pace back and forth in the cottage, waiting. Uncertain.
Afraid.
——
There’s nothing I can do for now. Nothing but wait. So I leave Wiskeria’s cottage and go for a walk. It’s hardly restful. The instant I’m out the door, I’m besieged by my people.
Ah, my people. They come up to me with greetings, offers to run and get food if I’m hungry, well wishes—all pleasant things, but what they’re really coming to hear is whether or not there’s been a battle. The latest gossip, the facts from my mouth. I understand what they’re feeling but it’s not what I want to deal with, so I let Rie and Prost disperse the crowd.
Of course I understand my people’s anxiety. They’re worried. The confidence of a few days ago, of knowing the Goblins were on the run, is gone. Now they’re biting their nails, same as me. And they look to me for reassurance I can’t give them.
What a mess. Prost hurries up to me and gives me a cursory report.
“More folks are coming in from villages, sire. Families, friends of folk living here—and there’s three messengers screaming to speak to you directly.”
“Let Lady Rie handle it or talk to them yourself, Mister Prost. There’s nothing else I can say right now.”
“Yes, sire.”
I have to be alone. Steady myself. I walk away from Prost, towards the only people I want to be around. Bismarck and Frostwing. My bird has grown to the point where she’s self-sufficient, or at least, able to fly about and poop wherever she wants. And it just so happens that she enjoys perching on Bismarck while the bear lounges about.
“Silly bear.”
I walk up to the Mossbear and pat him affectionately. He snuffles my shirt, and Frostwing shrieks, perhaps sensing my mood. I stroke Frostwing’s head and let some of my tension go with the two animals. Before I know it, a good while has passed. Reluctantly, I pull myself back and check on Sir Kerrig’s progress.
“Damn. He’ll be gone for hours yet! And those Goblins are still taking down my totems!”
A marker behind Sir Kerrig and another a few miles west vanish. The Goblins keep destroying my totems, and they take a long time to replace! I should have sent Sir Kerrig back into the city and demanded this Chieftain stop while he came here. Argh. But the city’s still surrounded. I think of that and then frown.
“Nesor?”
I stride back into Riverfarm’s main street and find Lady Rie overseeing a group of arguing adults. They’re fighting over who gets a house next—a minor dispute fueled by their anxiety. I interrupt them and grab Rie.
“Your [Mage] is with the nobility. Come with me.”
I leave the villagers behind and head to the newest houses that we converted into temporary homes for the nobility when it became clear their stay would be longer than most. The nobles’ personal escorts guard the houses, sounding as bored as they seem in my mind. They stand straighter as I approach, and instantly, one of them goes to announce me. I walk into one of the houses and find Lady Bevia Veniford and a small collection of nobles sitting and having tea. That’s not what I mind. What I mind is Nesor, practically sandwiched between two of the younger [Ladies], teacup in hand.
“Why, Your Majesty! What a pleasant surprise!”
Lady Bevia rises instantly to greet me. I nod slightly to her as Lady Rie greets Bevia.
“Lady Bevia, it is as always a pleasure to speak with you. I trust you are not too starved of entertainment? I understand your current situation leaves much to be desired.”
She laughs, sounding two decades younger than Lady Rie tells me she is.
“This is far more than I would hope for given a Goblin army is marauding about the landscape, Your Majesty! I am quite content for the moment, as are my peers. We are somewhat starved for information, but we do try to keep up.”
“So I note. I see Nesor has been quite stolen away by the company here.”
The older [Lady] twinkles merrily at me.
