Chapter Sixteen
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The goblins led until we entered a valley where the trees thinned, still high in the mountains. They looked about nervously and waved me and Ike to take the lead. The goblins clearly didn’t want to be seen first by any locals, taken as scouts for a raidin’ party. As an ogreling, I’d been raised hearin’ tales about the wars like every other generation, of all the other races, the past two centuries. The term raidin’ party only reflected humans and goblins. The humans could fall upon their foes in a flash, ridin’ those nasty horses of theirs.
Goblins didn’t need to be carried. They traveled as quickly as humans, without the horses. Stinkin’ long legs. As tired as I had gotten the last two hours tryin’ to keep up with Bent Nose and Big Ears, I wondered how much faster the two could have put the miles behind them, if they hadn’t been slowed by two swayin’, muscle-hastened ogres.
No way Lucas could have kept up this pace.
The thought tightened my gut. The three of us had worried about goblins, but Lucas was stricken by a foe two-legged kind rarely consider a danger, except for their stock. Would first worry about a mountain lion. A cranky bear met on a narrow path. Not a pack of wolves. Made no sense. It’s summer. Plenty of game. No need to go after a human. They don’t pack much meat on their bones anyway.
The thought struck like a physical force. I took a deep breath and looked at Ike. His face remained impassive. He moved over the pine needle ground as though he could continue for days without stoppin’. Probably could. We’re slow, but got stamina to spare.
Don’t think that was Lucas’ blood. He’s back there somewhere. Why would wolves carry off a camp hatchet, a bow? Quiver?
The sun hung directly overhead when Ike stopped us to rest and steal a bite to eat. I sat next to the stream watchin’ Ike’s face closely.
Should I share my suspicion? Would it provoke an unkind optimism that could end bein’ untrue?
Five minutes later Ike cut a last strip of dried meat off to gnaw as we continued, and asked if we were ready to go. The three of us nodded. Ike leaned over the cold stream for a last drink.
Tell him?
I couldn’t.
By nightfall the two goblins wore a complexion of intense concern. They constantly studied the woods around us, and listened. Escorted or not, they worried for their lives. The Covenant was straight forward about the fate of their kind. Their lives were legally forfeited if caught in the Range by those less understandin’ than Ike and his Hamlet folk. What did Ike say about a new accord?
There were already settler cabins strung near about. I caught a whiff of smoke from time to time. My own stake was no more than a two-hour hike northeast. What would the territory situation feel like if our place was reversed?
Wouldn’t even consider traipsin’ east, into goblin territory.
But then the arid east had no draw. It explained why Bent Nose and Big Ears hoped for a comfortable negotiation with humans, dwarves, and elves, who held considerable reason not to trust goblin kind. Trolls and ogres don’t think too much of them either. None would be interested in seein’ the balance of thin’s shift.
The previous days Lucas had provoked conversation. There was none between the four of us now. Stoppin’ for the day, we each contributed to collectin’ firewood, but otherwise kept our thoughts private. Perhaps the two goblins didn’t want to risk their voices drawin’ foe near. Or they thought about the words they would use before the valley elders.
“We narrowly avoided war when Maertin ventured into the valley,” Ike said.
The words made me jerk. Was he readin’ my mind? Only the crackle of the fire disturbed the quiet the last thirty minutes. I was just gettin’ ready to lay back and go to sleep. It took me a moment to connect the name Maertin to the goblin I met at the Inn.
“Wouldn’t expect that from your tidy little Hamlet.”
“Not us. Humans from the north.” Ike’s words were very soft.
I had to repeat them in my mind to ensure I heard him right. “Why did they care?”
“Figgered if they were willin’ to stray into forbidden lands, nothin’ would stop ’em from eventually treadin’ north. Maybe make a preemptive strike.”
“Ah. Makes sense. What stopped the war?”
Ike chuckled. Not the response I expected. My mind spun tryin’ to come up with a story that could be humorous. I finally had to prod the younger bull to continue, when my imagination failed me.
Ike rolled over, back to the fire. I waited.
“A mean dragon queen demanded we make peace.”
Certainly not one of my guesses. Doubt he meant Iza.
I started to prompt for the complete story, but Ike nestled his head into his blanket. A hint he wasn’t up for more conversation. The goblins bundled under their own furs, though their heads rose from time to time, listenin’ to the forest sounds.
My mind wandered until it filled with Delia. How would she react to Lucas’ death, if he’s indeed dead? Would it make any difference in Delia’s next move? Would she be willin’ to stay nearer, if I helped her build a new cabin? What would it take to entice the Hamlet, hours north, to help raise a new stake?
The woman’s manner of speakin’—odd Northern accent, her sparklin’ eyes, milky soft skin, kept my sleep at bay. I squirmed against every bump under my fur. It isn’t right for me to be thinkin’ so—the right word didn’t come to mind. Thinkin’ so fondly of a female human, a fragile thin’ who probably considers me an ugly—beast, would get me nowhere.
Humans aren’t known for bein’ that charitable of the character of others.
But then, who is? We ogres call humans and trolls, lesser creatures.
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