Passage 67: The Rise

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Vong’s words propel the others into action and the group starts shambling over toward the captives. I’m standing in the way, suddenly feeling as though I need to protect the goblins from a fate worse than death.

If we return to town now, we will have failed to patrol our area for a second time. We’d be showing up four days ahead of schedule with some enemy fodder that no one will care about. We have few clues and no leads about what happened at the farm because we simply showed up, fought some goblins, and then left almost immediately. They’ll dock our pay for sure. Less pay means more weeks until I can leave. Despite not wanting to spend any more weeks with this crew than I have to, it’s that I would prefer to not travel during the dead of winter that is on my mind.

I decide to say something that might put us back in the right mindset, “We can’t return until we’ve finished checking our sector.”

Ralith looks at me and visibly pales. I see sweat appear on Apul’s brow, even as Twitch does something that resembles shrugging.

Rakatha stops next to Vong and says, “Yes, these cretins will slow us down.”

“So we let them go?” Vong asks naively as a schoolboy.

I sigh inwardly. “No, they are enemies. We are to kill them.”

Vong frowns, as though I just told him he can’t go frolic in a field of daisies on a sunny day.

“They’re more valuable alive!”

“They’re just goblins,” says Twitch, who is now standing next to the bound goblins. She pulls out a dagger and points with it, “Take but a minute and we’ll be on our way.”

I watch the expression on Vong’s face turn from disappointment to anger. “No!” he barks, “we’re not murderers. We’re taking them back to town, and that’s that.”

I note his reaction.

I don’t participate as Vong tries to coordinate how to transport them. The one is still unconscious and either needs to be carried or towed on an improvised travois. Taking the time to build one big enough for all of them might actually save us time since goblins are much shorter than humans, usually only three feet tall, and even the ones that can walk will slow our pace.

I abstain from the debate among the rest of the party whether to exhaust Ralith’s healing blessings to try to revive the unconscious one, but they manage to talk themselves in to waiting until tomorrow morning. At one point Rakatha bundles up two of the goblins, one under each arm, and tries to have Pil carry the others in a similar fashion. He’s a squire, a knight in training, after all. Such chivalric activities as this are clearly part of the deal.

The goblins talk quietly amongst themselves during this confusion but, sadly, reveal nothing but their bewilderment at the party’s behavior.

Eventually Vong strings the three together with some cordage and ties it to his belt, and has Rakatha carry the last one, cradled like a baby in his arms. Except for the part where it is tied up too. People don’t tend to do that to babies, especially not in this part of the world.

We head off in roughly the direction that the other goblins ran off but Vong, distracted by his charges, doesn’t try to find their trail. The escarpment is still ahead of us and I notice that our path fixates on it before too long.

As the day’s sun starts to dip and its proof against the chill in the shadows dissolves, we reach the escarpment. It’s not much, but it will get us up above the tree line and a good, full-circle view of the part of the valley we’re in.

I can see Vong is excited to crest it and he asks me, “Hey, can you hold on to them while I check out the area?” He’s already begun untying the cord at his waist. I reluctantly take the leash. I don’t do anything stupid like tie it around my waist though.

He runs ahead, disappearing over the top. A moment later he calls down, “Hey, it’s great up here. I can see for miles!”

“Can you see Endolkin Farmville?” asks Twitch.

“Yeah, I think so. Come check it out!”

Pil is eager and runs up to Vong, but only after asking Rakatha if he may. Rakatha, burdened with the comatose goblin, nods him forward and says, “Hup.”

“Oh wow,” I hear Pil’s voice from up ahead, “we’ve come really far.”

Has he just now noticed? We’ve been hiking away from the farm for two days.

The goblins ask me to let them go, but I ignore them. They had their chance to parley. I head up the hill at a pace that suits me, and at which they strain to keep up with even at a run.

The rest of the party is also working their way up the rise, which is grass-covered and not particularly steep until the last few feet. One side has a steeper drop-off, but to call it a cliff would be too generous. A few scraggly trees are growing off the side here and there on the steep side, their trunks protruding sideways and then angling sharply upward. They look like ornaments on a helmet of an earthen giant.

Cresting the hill and taking in the rolling, patchwork landscape for myself, I find the view quite nice.


The Wordbearer Chronicles is a dark fantasy web series with new passages on Tuesdays. 

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