Tears of Liscor, page 69
part #9 of The Wandering Inn Series
Time for war.
——
The second Goblin was Reiss. He sat on his Shield Spider and thought. He thought about tactics, about a city called Liscor, about the undead and the Chosen of Az’kerash. And most of all, he thought about Garen. He didn’t look up, lost in thought as he was. When Eater of Spears sent a Goblin to relay his curious exchanges with Pyrite, Reiss barely took notice, though the news would have fascinated him another time. When Snapjaw told him about Osthia, he just looked up.
“Thank you, Snapjaw.”
She grinned at him. Reiss did not smile back. He couldn’t feel happy about Osthia. But it had to be done, and he didn’t have the courage to confront her. She would not understand. Or worse, she might understand all too well. Either way, she would have tried to kill him. Because he was going to take Liscor. Reiss was only afraid—
That he’d have to kill Garen to do it.
Tell them. Force them to kneel, and bring one army to take Liscor. His master’s last injunction echoed in Reiss’ mind. He knew it had to be done. His army was strong, but Rags had an army roughly two thirds as large as his. And Garen? Well, his warriors were few, but they were elite.
How had it happened? Tremborag’s tribe had gone to Rags rather than Reiss or Garen. It had shocked him, although his conversation with Az’kerash had put it out of his mind. Now, Reiss wondered. He supposed it made sense; Tremborag’s tribe blamed him for losing their mountain, but why had they passed over Garen?
It didn’t matter. Both tribes had to ally with him. They didn’t have to be his—his master was wrong there. Forcing Rags to submit to him would be close to impossible, and Garen would be truly impossible. They just had to fight together. He could convince Rags of that when he told her the full scope of the plan, Reiss was certain.
Garen would be the obstacle. That was why Reiss hesitated to tell him. When Garen Redfang learned of Az’kerash’s plans, he would oppose them on principle, regardless of how they made sense. He might even try to kill Reiss. Or run.
If they fought—if Reiss had to kill him—the Goblin Lord closed his eyes. They were brothers. Brothers still, after so long.
“It will not come to that. He will see reason. I just need—to force him to agree. If Rags agrees, he must.”
They’d surround his tribe. In the night. Give him an ultimatum and force him to agree. And if he fought, if he resisted—they could capture him. Alive.
It wasn’t as if his tribe was necessary in the battle. Important, but not necessary. And it might not come to that. Garen was stubborn, but he wasn’t a complete idiot.
Reiss told himself that again and again. Then, at last, he decided it was time. Rags had to know, then Garen. He forced himself not to tremble as he sat up and directed his Shield Spider to crawl towards Rags’ tribe. It was time. Time at last! Time for war. Time to take Liscor and find a home.
“Chieftain Rags! Gather your lieutenants. I must speak with you.”
Reiss shouted at the small figure riding on Carn Wolf. He saw Rags’ head turn and felt a hush go through both his and her tribe. The Goblins could tell something was happening, even if most did not know what. He saw Rags hesitate, then nod. She rode to join him with her four most trusted lieutenants. Eater of Spears and Snapjaw joined Reiss. He wished the others were here. But they had died at Invrisil, in battle. So many dead. But the end was in sight.
“What?”
Rags stared up at Reiss, her eyes narrowed. She knew he had spoken with Az’kerash. But not about what. The Goblin Lord took a steadying breath. Garen was watching suspiciously.
“I have spoken with my master. He has discovered the Humans’ plans. What they intend. My master is certain they are moving us to Liscor. Not to slaughter us there, but to use us. With trebuchets, they will tear open Liscor’s walls. Then, they mean to force us to take the city. And once it has fallen, rush in and slaughter us to the last.”
The Goblins went silent. Rags’ eyes went wide, and Noears uttered a curse. Redscar turned to look at the Humans, Poisonbite gulped, and Pyrite narrowed his eyes and glanced at his Chieftain. Fear, sharp and electric, ran through all the Goblins around Reiss. He could feel it, but kept calm. So did the Goblins in his army, sensing his confidence, drawing resolve from it.
Snapjaw ground her teeth together, almost dancing from foot to foot with glee, and Eater of Spears waited silently. They knew what was coming next. Rags looked pale as she looked at Reiss.
“Okay. That bad. Necromancer has a plan?”
“Yes. We will take the city and hold it. With his aid. He will resurrect every warrior that falls in battle. He will provide us with his elite undead warriors, his Chosen. With them, we will take Liscor, and when the Humans attack, we will hold it and beat them back.”
Reiss saw the eyes of the Goblins widen around him. Some reacted in shock, others horror or disbelief. Rags just blinked. Reiss went on, outlining the plan Az’kerash had given to him.
“Liscor can be taken. It can fall. With your tribe and mine, we can secure the city. My master can raise walls of bone to hold the breaches, seal the Humans in when they attack and cut their army in two. Chieftain Rags, join your Flooded Waters tribe to mine and claim Liscor. Your home. It will be the first city of Goblins.”
Rags’ eyes flickered. She looked at Reiss, then at Snapjaw’s grin, Eater of Spears slowly nodding. She looked around at Reiss’ warriors, who were caught up by his words, and then at her own uncertain tribe, who looked to the Goblin Lord with apprehension and a bit of—hope. Reiss waited, his eyes going to Garen. What would he say? What would he do? Would he run if he heard the news being spread? No, he’d come to say something even if it was a refusal. Would he—
“No.”
The word was quiet and so soft Reiss’ thoughts kept going until they got tangled up on the word. The Goblin Lord blinked. He looked down at Rags.
“What?”
“No. We will not fight.”
Rags folded her arms. Her lieutenants looked at her. Poisonbite in disbelief, Noears frowning, Redscar uneasily. And Pyrite? The Hob smiled.
“You are not serious.”
Reiss refocused on Rags. She had to be telling a joke. But the little Goblin just shook her head.
“I told you. Goblins live in circles. We kill Humans. Humans kill us. We kill Drakes, Drakes kill us. Adventurers come to kill us, we kill them, so more come. It never ends. That is the circle of Goblins.”
“Cycle.”
Reiss automatically corrected her. Rags shrugged as if to say the words were the same. Reiss scrambled to say something.
“I know. But this will break the cycle. Chieftain Rags—taking Liscor will mean a safe haven for Goblins! If we hold Liscor, no one will be able to take it. It is one of the most defensive cities on the continent—”
“Mhm. So Humans and Drakes both want it. And not very safe if we can take it. Sounds like we put big ‘stab me’ sign on back. Not doing it.”
The little Chieftain scratched at one ear. Reiss stared at her.
“You don’t have a choice. The Humans will slaughter all of us to force us to attack Liscor. Tyrion Veltras wants to take the city.”
“So? Let him. We won’t fight. We will run. Into mountains, maybe. Fight big battle while other Goblins climb.”
Rags pointed to the mountains. They were high and practically impassable. Reiss tried to imagine forcing over two hundred thousand Goblins up the slopes. They’d have to abandon everything while they held the Humans off.
“Impossible.”
“Okay. Then another plan. We go into dungeon. There is cave. Dungeon is…probably big. Could hold some. Or go around Liscor. Fight Humans and get away. But not attack city. Bad idea.”
“You will die if you attempt that. Why not take Liscor? Why not fight to hold it? With all the advantages my master can bring to the battle—”
Reiss stared down at Rags. She scratched her ears, not looking directly at him or anyone else. Finally, she muttered.
“Don’t want to kill people in Liscor.”
“What?”
This time, the question was a chorus. Everyone stared at Rags. Her points about not fighting had been good, if scattered. But this? Reiss shook his head, growing angry.
“What has Liscor done for you? Chieftain—the Drakes care nothing for you! They have killed our people for thousands of years, just like the Humans!”
“They have. And they are stupid poos. Especially Relc.”
Rags agreed. She sighed and scrubbed at the back of her head. Then she looked around. Two tribes stared at Rags, hanging on her words. She looked at Reiss, who was trembling, unable to believe what she was saying. Rags sighed louder, then raised one claw.
“Okay. This is why. There is a Human there. In Liscor.”
Everyone stared at Rags. She raised her voice as she went on, not speaking just at Reiss, but to Pyrite, to Redscar and Poisonbite and Noears and all the others. She spread her arms, speaking to the hundreds of thousands of Goblins who listened to her.
“Her name is Erin Solstice. And she is good. She lives in Liscor—in a little inn outside it. And she likes Goblins. She is my…my friend. And no one is going to kill her.”
“A Human? That’s not—Humans aren’t friends with Goblins.”
Reiss whispered. Rags shook her head.
“That was what I thought! But—she is different. She kills, but only to defend. She does not attack. And she does not let others attack. She has—she has a sign by her inn! I have seen it! It says ‘No Killing Goblins’. No killing Goblins in her inn. She is my friend, and she is friends with Antinium and Drakes and Gnolls. She is good.”
The other Goblins stared at Rags. A friend? A Human as a friend? It sounded like a joke. Some of Tremborag’s former Goblins began grinning, but Rags didn’t laugh. She was as serious as could be as she met Reiss’ eyes. And slowly, it dawned on the other Goblins.
She was telling the truth. Because, after all, Goblins didn’t lie. There was a Human in Liscor who was friends with a Goblin. The murmurs began to spread. Reiss looked around.
“That is one Human. One Human cannot save you!”
“No.”
Rags agreed readily. She nodded, looking around.
“Don’t expect her to. But she could help. She could do…something. Anything?”
“Like what?”
Reiss raised his voice. He heard the sarcasm in his tone, the anger. He couldn’t help it. He pointed down at Rags.
“What could one Human do? What could any Human do?”
She shrugged. It was the most classically Goblin thing she could do. She looked up at Reiss and smiled.
“Don’t know. But she is my friend. You have your Necromancer. I have Erin. You have your Human, and I have mine. I will not fight Liscor. I will run or hide or do whatever it takes. But I will not fight. The destiny of Goblins is a circle. And it must stop.”
For a second, Reiss couldn’t speak. He was lost with fury, indignation at the stupidity of what Rags was saying. Then he heard a cheer.
Everyone’s head turned. They saw a little Goblin standing on a cart, cheering and waving. It was alone at first, and then a Hob raised her arms and bellowed as well. Goblins around them began to cheer too. Reiss stared as Rags’ tribe began to laugh and shout. They were cheering. Cheering her, celebrating.
They didn’t want to fight. He looked and saw more Goblins on their feet. And they were shouting.
“Rags! Rags! Rags!”
Her name. Rags flushed with pride and looked around, puffing her chest out. Her lieutenants took up the call. Reiss stared around. He saw thousands of Goblins cheering and Garen’s tribe staring. Garen Redfang himself sat on the back of his Carn Wolf, staring at Rags. He was glaring. The Human army had halted, perhaps wondering what the strange cheering was for.
Rags turned away. Her lieutenants dispersed, and the Goblins moved ahead, hurrying to keep going before the Humans started throwing spells. Snapjaw and Eater of Spears stayed back, looking anxiously at Reiss. He didn’t move. At last, they left too. Reiss sat on his undead spider’s back as the Goblins flowed past him. And only darkness filled his mind.
A Human for a friend? Breaking the cycle? Running? It was unacceptable. They had to fight. They had to take Liscor. His master would not accept anything else. He would not accept anything else. It was right in front of them. A city. A kingdom! And she was wrong.
Something black was in Reiss’ chest, making his heart beat faster. It was welling up in him, dark intentions. He looked around and saw his army marching ahead of him. And Rags’ lieutenants and his people.
They’d all gone back to each other. His tribe and Rags’. His lieutenants and hers. Snapjaw and Poisonbite were talking to each other, arguing, but talking, riding on her horse. And Eater of Spears was throwing axes with Pyrite, speaking. Reiss’ heart hurt.
Eater of Spears spoke with no one as closely as he was speaking with Pyrite. There were so few Hobs like him, but he had found a kindred spirit in the fat Hob. And Reiss was going to—
No. They could still walk together and smile. Nothing needed to change. It was just her. Reiss looked up. At Rags, who was riding along, arguing with the [Shaman], Ulvama. She was the one who led this tribe. And she was the one who was wrong.
A home for your kind. His master’s words echoed in Reiss’ mind. It was so close. He had sacrificed so much for it. And Rags would run? No. No, it couldn’t be. It wouldn’t be. He would not let her.
Slowly, Reiss rode his Shield Spider forwards. This time, he was fixated on Rags. Something dark whispered to him. It sounded like his master, but it had his voice. Reiss felt pitch blackness spilling forth, beating from his heart, in his veins, his blood. He was rigid with the horror of what he was going to do. But he was going to do it anyways.
“Rags.”
This time, when she turned, Rags paused. The Goblins around her paused as well. They stared back at Reiss’ face and grew silent. Snapjaw looked up. Eater of Spears paused, pointing out a target for Pyrite to hit. Rags looked back at Reiss.
“What?”
Reiss was calm. Very calm. And cold. He looked at Rags and then past her, at the mountains and the sky. Not a few hours past midday. Plenty of time. He spoke pleasantly, feeling the magic growing in him, running down his arm.
“Do you remember my dream?”
“About Goblin kingdom? Yes. Silly dream. But nice one.”
Rags nodded. Reiss smiled. He looked down at her.
“It is. But there’s something I didn’t tell you about it. I have that dream some nights. A dream of a Goblin kingdom, a place where Goblins are safe and live in peace. But in that dream, the Goblins have no faces.”
“No faces?”
She blinked. He nodded. The magic ran down into his fingers and gathered there, as thick as sin, as dark as midnight.
“None. I look around in my dream and see no one I recognize. Not Eater of Spears. Not Snapjaw. Not even me. I look at my reflection and see another Goblin’s face. Do you know why?”
She held still, looking at him.
“Tell me.”
Reiss smiled sadly.
“It is because for my dream, I would sacrifice anything. Anything and anyone. I have my dream, and it is worth all the pain in the world to make real. So I am sorry for this.”
He raised his hand. Rags blinked.
“For wh—”
“[Deathbolt].”
The black energy shot through Reiss’ fingers, coalescing into a line of energy that sucked away the light. It shot through Rags at point black range. She swayed, gasping, her face drained of color. She swayed, put a hand on her saddle.
She was still alive. Reiss had hoped she’d die right away. She kept looking at him, kept trying to say something. But there was nothing left to say. She was trying to turn her Carn Wolf, but she was too weak. The Goblins around her were just staring, shocked by the suddenness of it all. Reiss raised his fingers and pointed at Rags’ chest. Then he looked up. He heard something.
A whirring sound. Something tugged at his hand. Reiss blinked and stared at the silvery axe that softly thunked into the breast of a Hob standing next to him. The Hob blinked and fell. Reiss stared at the axe. He’d given that to Eater of Spears. Then he felt an odd sensation. He looked down at his hand. He couldn’t see it.
It was missing. Reiss stared down at the stump of his hand as blood began to gush from the severed arteries. He looked around and saw the Hob. The second axe passed by his face, and Reiss nearly fell from the back of his undead spider. He blinked and stared at the thrower.
Pyrite. The Hob straightened. He saw Reiss catch himself, saw Rags reeling backwards and her Carn Wolf bounding backwards in fright, howling. He looked up and saw Eater of Spears staring at him, face white. Pyrite sighed.
“Told you.”
He reached for his battleaxe. His hands closed around the haft too slow. Eater of Spears grabbed Pyrite and roared. Pyrite felt something slam into him and saw the world spinning around him until he slammed into the ground. Goblins screamed, and both the Flooded Waters tribe and the Goblin Lord’s army broke ranks and began to fight as everything descended into chaos.
5.56 G
Garen Redfang saw the axe spin through the air. He saw the silver flash, the way Reiss recoiled. And the way the Goblin Lord stared dumbfounded down at his severed stump of a hand. He didn’t see the second one coming.
“Look up.”
The leader of the Redfang Tribe growled. But he was sitting on his Carn Wolf, separated by tens of thousands of confused, screaming Goblins. Too far to shout a warning even if he had been so inclined. And he wasn’t. Reiss was his enemy. He served the Necromancer.
But still, he couldn’t die like that. Garen saw Reiss look about. The second whirling axe missed him by what had to be a foot. Garen saw Reiss jerk in surprise. He stared at the Hob who had thrown the axe and nearly fell from his seat on the undead spider. Garen looked too.
