Fate Deals the Cards Temperance

  Chapter 31

  Hunters, Hunted

  The Wheel of Fortune closed his complex ritual array and sat back with a gasp of relief at the sudden end of the intense Mana drain. “It was easy to open a passage before… The last time it stayed open by itself for a good long while, as if someone was powering the gate from the other side.”

  “So what has changed?” Deuce of Wands asked quietly. The soft patter of tiny wavelets on the beach was the only sound for a few long seconds, until the shorebirds and gulls began to return. Insects chirped and whirred in the dense foliage beyond the sand, once the spell finally grounded out entirely, restoring balance to the region’s magic.

  “Nothing changed; it feels like whoever was there, reaching out is no longer there. My first attempt to penetrate the veil of obfuscation and repulsion woven through the ether around the goblin dungeon succeeded almost effortlessly, because someone was reaching out through the veil in the local area. This time, it feels like I got left on read.” Wheel answered calmly.

  “Weirdo…” Deuce sighed; he always spoke quietly, seldom more than a whisper and even then he was easy to lose in the mix. “How many of their weird undead skull-crabs has she killed now?”

  “Seven… and a few other undead, possessed or otherwise compromised puppets here and there.” Wheel answered, after consulting a small notebook for a moment.

  “Those numbers are still soft; Greela seems determined to find this goblin man she spoke with… I hold out few hopes that she will find him. The wild goblins I actually spoke with were very reasonable and highly civilized, in their own way. Her chances of finding any of them, let alone a specific group, are perilously small.”

  “Really? It’s difficult to find goblins in the goblin dungeon?” The vice-captain of the Wands asked, his voice even more soothing,now that his interest had been aroused.

  “Wild goblins, brother. The light cult towns are absolutely lousy with goblins… Neutered male slaves mostly. Their pet goblin raiders are unreliable and unfit for company, even by their loose standards of decorum.” Wheel smiled grimly at the wizard-monk. “The few intact males they keep around are for… entertainment. They indulge in all manner of debased and debauched behaviors with the poor creatures. Wild goblins are not anything like monsters and are so very much more than beasts, when left in their natural state.”

  “And yet they are scarce?” Deuce frowned, his placid face creasing as if the inconsistencies were causing him pain. “That seems improbable.”

  “Goblins can’t be bred in captivity, brother. The males have no interest in females that aren’t ‘ripe’ and become deranged, bloodthirsty, rapey little lunatics when they smell the scent of ‘tummy-time’ on the wind.” Wheel shook his head sadly and grimaced. “The girls are furtive, sly and terribly weak; worse yet, they live very primitive lives and are nomadic. Almost any creature they encounter is a mortal threat against which they have almost no defense, including males of their own kind…”

  “So it would be a hunt across untouched wilds, seeking a wily and elusive prey? I wouldn’t bet against Greela.” Deuce sounded a little smug there, for a monk.

  “Fair point, brother. In most cases I would be the first to agree; but the goblin dungeon is a highly fractured world… It’s almost entirely composed of semi-real ‘shards’ of incomplete reality, orbiting the core world in some deeply confusing ways.” Wheel shook his head sadly. “It’s a low magic and highly unstable, primitive, savage world. In that wild and untrammeled place, goblins do not occupy the pinnacle of the food chain.”

  “That does sound like a desperate situation.” Deuce of Wands muttered.

  “She took strength and a few of the swords along, something about doing a little piracy… I gather the cult brings most of their supplies and personnel in by ship. We should probably expect at least a shipload or two of refugees soon.” Wheel sighed. “They plan on making their own way out, with whatever they can hijack, when they’re done pillaging a few cities on the coast.”

  /

  We had to stay put for a few days, while Thera recovered from her slashed flank. Three long lines of sutures nestled in her gray striped side, wrapped round with bandages of undyed linen, as she slowly, painfully regained her mobility… Really, she healed with surprising speed, much as Sapphie’s and my own wounds vanished quickly.

  “I suspect that your baths are a factor in this mystery, my king.” Sarafina murmured quietly as she bathed me; enjoying our private time together in the steam, even though the pool was crowded with goblins.

  “These waters are more than they appear and have some potent magic about them. You are something odd and deeply eldritch, at your core; I will crack your mysteries some day, boy…”

  “You work on that… Ghnash must hunt.” I grunted. “Big-big trouble in human-town. Patrol swamp.”

  “I saw lights in the sky before you returned… fires burning in the human town? What did you do, my chief? Something wicked?” Sara purred warmly as she toweled me off and combed my hair.

  “Nub-nub…” I sighed sadly, wishing desperately that I could speak properly. “Was nub me… scary cat woman and giant monster man smashed everything…” It took a minute to put my talkin’ stuff back together, while Sara peppered me with questions I couldn’t answer. “Must patrol woods and swamp.” With that, I dipped out into the darkened woodlands, clad in my kilt and alert for trouble in any form I might find it.

  I found the troll’s trail, of course… he’d left trampled vegetation, blood and ichor stains, deep footprints and impressions in the mud, where the ungainly brute had fallen, again and again in his desperate flight. No normal beast would come near the creature’s scent trail, I noticed while following the signs into the low, stoney hills above the marsh.

  A few miles later, in the rocky, weathered uplands that overlooked a wide stretch of rolling savannah, his trail slipped into a cleft in the rocky outcroppings and vanished. He wasn’t in the shallow crevice, that was clear… and just as clearly, I couldn’t follow him wherever he went. The troll had slipped through that crack into… somewhere? It was deeply unclear exactly where he went, but something deep inside me said that I did not want to clamber into that jagged little split in the stone outcropping. Not at all.

  Wherever he was, I couldn’t follow; and it wasn’t likely he was going to get his arms back any time soon… or ever. I mentally washed my hands of that clown and began roving in a wider circle around our home, looking for any trouble that might be looking for us. Long story short, no-one was looking for us at all… I felt a little sting there; I’d been so popular for the last few weeks.

  There were a few signs of the chaos in that city, out in the wilds. A few tiny, furtive campfires twinkled on the grassy plain, as well as on the shoreline, here and there… Whether they were refugees, slavers or soldiers was none of my concern, since nobody wanted to go into the swamps. My girls were pretty unhappy about it too, but the king was a real tyrant and ignored their complaints in the interest of safety and security…

  /

  “Security was a joke…” Greela sighed softly, while the galley rowed out to sea, headed for the nearest gate into the void and freedom. A soft, low song rose from the rowers as they worked, pulling hard for freedom with Six of Swords at the helm and the hold laden with freshly uncollared, former slaves. “All right, let’s go.”

  Raiding the shattered remnants of that cathedral town was too easy… What little resistance existed before Strength appeared swiftly evaporated when his first roar shook the ruins.

  A few frantic hours later, a scant dozen people watched from the shore, beside the wreckage of a small slave caravan. A few well picked corpses; more bones and rags than flesh, marred the long stretch of sand. A wagon stood there as well, neatly parked and functional, if thoroughly looted.

  Greela sniffed a few small footprints and frowned unhappily. “Just as Wheel said. Our hunt starts here, in this mess. Search well and report your findings to Strength. I’ll be out scouting our prey’s trail.”

  Her squad fell in with minimal chatter and only a little goofing off. In a few minutes the cart was emptied and the contents inventoried and repacked, if salvageable. Their own gear got loaded on the wagon quickly and efficiently, before the team set to sifting through the sand and corpses for clues.

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  Each man wore an armband in the color of their suit marked with their rank in that branch; She had five high ranked swords and a few of the Coins along… and then there was Strength. The giant worked hard to conceal the effects that the world’s low ambient magic levels were having on his body and mind, with variable levels of success. “Drink your potion, Strength… I need you in your right mind.”

  “Yeah, yeah-yeah…” He grumbled, as he tipped a quart jar of something dark, murky and evil smelling down his throat. Fortunately, the draught amounted to a scant dribble down the giant’s vast gullet; he pulled a sour and disgusted face at the stench and taste of the stuff, with an unhappy glare for the tiger woman who’d passed him the jug of vile stuff.

  “Next time I’ll just swallow the whole thing, jar and all…” He grumbled unhappily.

  “I can make suppositories if you really can’t stand the taste… They’ll burn like hot coals, though.” Deuce of coins called with a laugh at the giant’s expense.

  “I wonder how much of you I can stuff in this jar…” Strength muttered at the alchemist, an evil and devious smile on his craggy, inhumanly rough features.

  “Get your acts together, boys! We’re hunting goblins, not playing grab-ass in the woods!” Greela barked at her team of eye-wateringly similar men. She grinned at her idiot brothers and chuckled before barking out a command. “Report!”

  The Ten of Swords stepped up and spoke, his appraisal confident and assured. “Not much evidence… The scavengers have been busy. At a guess, it was either a swift, well organized raid, or a single very skilled assassin. There’s no sign of a struggle, beyond massive blunt trauma to each corpse… It was a very short fight.” He shrugged. “Wheel didn’t miss much, but I did find obsidian shards in some of the duramatter, lodged in vertebrae mostly. Our killer swings for the head and strikes his foes when they are vulnerable. In their sleep, perhaps. Stone weapons say goblin to me.” He nodded firmly and grimaced. “We all agree. It was likely one or two elite goblin assassins, unlikely as that sounds.”

  Their clothing, equipment and such varied wildly, from heavy armored warriors, to scholars in robes of durable and fine cloth. Otherwise, only Greela the tigress and the giant, Strength were readily identifiable from the others in the small group. Without the differences in gear, even the keenest eye would struggle to differentiate the cluster of almost entirely identical men.

  “Ready to move, Greela.” Three of Swords announced a moment later. “On your orders.” His posture and tone were casual, familiar and relaxed around the formidable tigress and her gigantic second in command. Strength grabbed the wagon’s tongue and began pulling it along like a child’s toy, a merry tune whistling from his lips, even when a few of the Garies hopped aboard for a free ride.

  A few miles later, they halted at a short causeway, where a seasonal stream ran under the road in a wide, rocky spillway that ended in sand and the gently lapping wavelets of the sea. Another corpse lay here, spilled in a reeking mess on the stones. The remains of a full inquisitor captain of the light lay there, by the markings on his swiftly rusting armor and gear. His sword still sat in its sheath, though the armor bore clear signs of battle. His helm and breastplate had been dented repeatedly, by stones most likely. His end had come from a wound to his groin, judging by the traces of blood spray all around… The crabs had gotten in and made a mess of his lower abdomen, so that was the general agreement.

  “Report your findings, team.” Greela sighed, once they were done pawing over the mangled corpse and stripping it of any valuables. The rest they tossed into the sea without ceremony, just as with the dead slavers.

  “Killed by a goblin, I suppose.” The deuce of coins muttered in disgust. “It’s a mystery… There’s clear signs of a running battle in this wash and plenty of blood scattered all over…” He shrugged and grimaced. “The guy’s sword is pristine, dagger too. There’s signs he was struck again and again, most likely with stone weapons, judging by the marks on him.” The alchemist shrugged helplessly. “It looks like he just took the beating…”

  “Wheel says he was possessed by some kind of spider shadow… That’s not important right now.” Greela grumbled at her squad of identical men. “The goblin that killed this man… Wheel said the spider demon ate him. Said he watched the demon eat him alive. I smell that goblin man’s trail leaving this place. I have smelled him before, spoken to him… some time after the Wheel saw him devoured alive.” That brought a low mutter of disgruntled conversation from her team.

  Her green eyes raked over her squad and a growl raised from her throat. “We hunt something uncanny… and dangerous. Be alert. We encamp here tonight.”

  Tents and a camp kitchen appeared quickly, as the small knot of warriors took over the road and causeway for the night.

  Dawn came, shooing the fog away and ushering in a clear, bright day. “We have a few miles of rough country ahead… swamps and wetlands, followed by woodlands.” the tigress told her boys, once breakfast finished.

  “Let’s go… I’ll be on point, sweeping for the trail. Strength, you’re in command.” That brought a good natured groan from the whole team, as the tigress vanished into the tall reeds and tangled willows of the deep wetlands.

  “You heard her…” The giant muttered, hefting the wagon onto his shoulder and striding into the marsh, sinking to his knees in the silt and mud with every step. That evening, they stumbled onto a large, perfectly circular field of rich, dark, extraordinarily fertile earth, completely bare of weeds or other wild growth, just naked soil awaiting seeds as if it had been freshly cleared, tilled and cultivated, then abandoned.

  “Weird as hell!” Tuppence grumbled; the deuce of Coins insisted on the silly moniker, since the deuce of Swords was on the mission as well. It was troublesome occasionally, all being the same person.

  Goblin-sign littered the local area… patches of earth where worms, grubs, roots and such had been harvested, footprints and such were everywhere. At least two dozen goblins had encamped in the area, judging by the fruit rinds, animal bones, primitive scraps of woven reeds and hides left in the well buried rubbish pit. The goblins had marched out from their home days before, leaving a trail many of the woods wise Garies could follow.

  /

  For three long days they marched through the wilds, tracking the signs of a goblin tribe on the move. Again and again they came across those circular patches of soil… each surrounded by signs of goblin life. The goblin trail led up into the hills, skirting a light cult fortress that squatted in a narrow mountain pass like a toad jammed in a crevice, blocking the roadway entirely.

  “Well?” Strength demanded impatiently, glaring down on the small fortress hamlet from a stone prominence. “Can we?”

  “It’s not a part of our mission, brother…” Greela scratched her jaw and growled softly. “We’re not equipped or prepared for a raid. What would we do with the slaves? You know there’ll be a lot of them…”

  “But… Greela…” He whined, in exactly the way an overloaded ore cart rolling down a slope would.

  “If you boys can scrape enough Mana in this desert to open a gateway and evacuate the refugees…” She finally sighed, raising a quiet cheer from the brothers all around. “No civilian casualties… including goblins.”

  “What goblins? We haven’t seen any since we got here, just the usual savage lunatics.” Eight of Coins grumbled. “I thought we’d get to talk to some that have smarts.”

  “I told you, the wild goblins… are not the kind of gobbs we see on other worlds.” She complained, while her men got rigged and checked their gear. “No non-hostile casualties, brothers. Keep your explosives, toxins and heavy weapons stowed.”

  “But I am heavy weaponry…” Strength grumbled happily, as he began stretching and warming up.

  “That’s why Deuce of Swords and I are sneaking in first. Wait for our signal before you knock the gate down.” Greela told the giant, who sighed unhappily.

  “Maybe I was gonna climb the wall and sneak in…” The behemoth offered weakly to the empty patch of gathering darkness where the tigress had been.

  /

  After three nights on that low hill, surrounded by marshland, we departed. Thera still wore a bandage under her clothes, more to support the weakened muscles and remind her to take it easy than to keep her blood inside. Of the troll there was no further sign… I’d checked the crevice in reality he’d dipped through several times with no sign of return traffic. That loser had enough trouble on his lack of hands, so I wrote him off my balance sheet for good.

  I had a lower leg and two whole arms of his to play with and practice my arts on; and the results were already promising. During our time on the island, I’d skinned his limbs and dropped the whole remaining mess on a big ant hill to get the bones cleaned up on easy mode. The hide was interesting, but those bones were going to be big fun once they cured entirely and I could start carving more intricate spells into them.

  Our new camp sat between two low, rolling hills on the dry grasslands, hidden by a few scrubby trees. The girls deeply loved the dry land, even if the wide-open skies and long sightlines of the savannah made them nervous. Most goblins preferred a forest or woodland environment, as did most other small prey animals. We hunted in the brush and among the trees and were hunted in our turn, since most of the world’s predators considered us delicious.

  Out on the grasslands we were much more visible and vulnerable to predators, especially the larger winged varieties… A full grown eagle could snatch up a stray runtie with ease, even a murder of aggressive crows could be a danger to a lone, unwary goblin.

  I wore my red crayfish carapace armor, partially for intimidation value, should I encounter any hostile goblins, but mostly for defense, since I’d spotted a moondrinker dragonfly flitting around. There were giant owls and nests of vampire bats to worry about as well, out in the wilds; I’d seen signs of both around the local area. The moondrinker was a particular threat to me.

  The gigantic, jewel colored dragonfly was beautiful… almost heartachingly so. Brilliant colors flickered over its shell as it danced through the night, guided by huge, segmented eyes that gleamed in all the colors of the stars above. The wings were the most striking feature, two pairs of iridescent stained glass membranes glowed in the starlight and flashed disorienting lights as it flitted about, seeking prey, seeking me.

  I moved through the light brush, scampering between clumps of thorny goodness and diving in, relying on my armor to keep me un poked. The insect quartered the sky above my bush, while I waited for my moment to make another dash for shelter… This patch was just a little farther, with no cover at all in any direction.

  My mad scramble across the open ground must have been convincing, because the winged predator zeroed right in on me, diving down for a slash with its razor keen wing edges. I had a lot of faith in my armor, or I wouldn’t have tried it… the thing was deadly fast and deceptively agile. What it wasn’t, was smart. It swooped in fast and dipped low at the last second, since most prey would try to duck into the grass for cover.

  The thing mowed a ten foot swathe of weeds and grasses in almost total silence, until it hit my well braced, carefully angled oar shield and became a tumbling wreck, cartwheeling over the grass to collapse in a trembling, broken heap.

  I saluted my fallen prey, by clubbing it to death with a short, stone headed whomp. I quickly fell to disassembling it, after a brief moment grieving for those marvelous wings, now shattered into colorful fragments. I collected the entire corpse into my capacious shadow and moved on, headed out, seeking our next camp site.

  “Hail, chief Ghnash…” A familiar voice called out from a promising little vale, as I crested the hill. “We come seeking trade with you… As my messenger told you, before you decided to raid a human city.” Mother violet and a few of her apprentices stepped out of the brush, into the clearing I had my eye on. “I thought you might be headed this way.”

  “Had troll. Slowed us down.” I sighed, resigning myself to more awkward interactions with my… whatever. Goblin life. I didn’t owe her any explanations and didn’t offer any.

  “A troll?” She asked, showing obvious alarm, which set her apprentices to twitching nervously. “Is it pursuing you?”

  “Nub-nub. Troll will nub follow.” I answered confidently. “Ghnash will know if he comes back.” I patted the troll’s smallest finger-bone, drilled and inscribed with my spells, dangling at my throat. “Hexed him good.” It would alert me if the creature came near, as a part of the being itself. The little bone would vibrate and hum if the beast came within several miles of the wearer. Sarafina and Emmie each wore one as well, so I had few worries on that score.

  “You are deeply troubling…” The young witch whispered, knowing I would hear her across the little vale. “Especially considering what you’re wearing.”

  “Trouble finds me.” I answered calmly. “Is only fair.”

  “I suppose that’s true, chief Ghnash…” We spent a few long, awkward seconds staring at each other in silence, once she let her words trail off. If she was expecting me to keep the conversation alive she was way off the mark.

  “What are you waiting for?” She demanded after a while. “Where is your tribe?”

  “Home, asleep. Ghnash builds house. Brings girls…” I glanced at her and the scattering of her minions, peering at me from their bowers. “Need find place. Nub follow. Will find you.” I slipped away into the night, seeking a spot for my home.

  /