Gondell's Quest - Book 1 - Destiny - Free Sampler Edition

  Chapter 15

  The darkness became absolute as an ominous mass of cloud obscured the pale new moon, a deeper black hovering against a starless sky. Well if that doesn't top it all, Gondell sighed, if it had been this dark earlier, maybe even these sharp eyed people would have passed me by. But his regret soon passed, he faced a difficult time ahead, yet with the company of Man he felt some small comfort. I don't trust them, yet I trust them more than the Goblins. At that very moment another realisation struck him, but if I'm marching with them, how will Grignasch get me away when the time is right? They are more alert and observant, and I would like to guess, a great deal more intelligent than any Goblin. Good fortune and rotten luck, all at the same time, he groaned silently before tripping over his own tired feet, his waistcoat grasped before he could tumble to the ground. Good luck to be with more decent people, yet bad luck that they will probably foil my best possibility to escape.

  As his sight failed, other senses sharpened, he could smell the Goblin hoard ahead, sour and unwashed, a primitiveness and savagery, raw and dangerous. Of the Man soldiers around him he detected no other odour than leather, not roughly tanned like the scaled armour of the Goblins, the scent of supple hide, clean, well prepared and conditioned with lanolin or some other oil. They are refined, he concluded, I can understand why they were once among the lists of fair folk, I wonder what he meant when he said that they had fallen from grace? Making a mental note to explore his question when the opportunity arose Gondell set his jaw and tried to ignore the growing pain in his back, the long miles and even longer hours of jogging having taken their toll.

  It must be well after midnight, he thought, how much longer before we can rest again? His answer came almost instantly as he detected a pale glow on the distant horizon, a glow that grew steadily as the weary minutes passed. Torchlight, he decided, and a fire. The glow strengthened and individual figures began to emerge from the darkness, he saw the column of Ruaq's troops clearly, now some distance ahead, and some of them are staggering, he noticed, so for all their bragging, there are some finding this as tough as myself.

  “Here we shall rest until dawn,” the Man captain announced quietly. “Heed my advice, keeper. Set aside all thoughts of escape, and stay within our ranks. This is a way-point that we approach, a place for us to resupply and rest. But for them!” he paused, giving a scornful laugh that carried clearly above the sound of marching feet, “They waste their time and energy on wine and whoring and fighting. We march out of dedication and honour, to do our king's will, these filth march because of bribery. Kangan knows his soldiers well, Goblins can suffer great hardships, but only if there is the promise of plunder or debauchery at the end. Here you will find many different squads mingling... mark my words, before the first light of day there will be blood spilled.”

  “Then why do you stop here, if this place is so dangerous?”

  The captain laughed aloud, “A fair question. We have no other choice, beyond lies the desert, bleak and waterless, yet these plains are deceptive, you may see green growth all around, but the plains are equally treacherous. There is no water, only from the wells that have been sunk at these way-points.”

  “Well how do the Aurochs survive without water?” asked Gondell quickly, not wishing to directly contradict the captain, but doubting that no water existed except for the wells.

  “There are seeps of water on the plains,” the captain replied, “But without exact knowledge, or a nose that can smell water from miles away, you or I would die of thirst long before we stumbled across any pool or spring by accident. That is why we must use this accursed place... but we camp on the outskirts, at the edge of the light, we do not wish to become embroiled in petty Goblin squabbles and drunkenness.”

  “I feel pity for you.” Gondell announced. The jogging march had slowed to a walk as the glow of torches revealed a sizeable camp of roughly build wooden structures and shabby tents.

  “Pity?” questioned the captain, the soft light illuminating his face, his eyes glowing warm, maybe even revealing a soul, thought Gondell as he caught traces of decency behind stiff military reserve and duty.

  “Yes, pity,” the Gnome repeated, “You say you don't care about sides, but it is clearly obvious to me that you don't like the side that you have been forced onto, you cannot deny that you have little or no respect for Goblins. That is why I feel pity, I conceive that at heart you are decent folk, and I believe that it pains you to ally with evil against the fair folk.”

  “We want, nor ask for pity,” the captain replied, his voice harsh and defensive, the instant and instinctive response of a troubled conscience, “Yet...” his expression softened, “Such choices and decisions are beyond the reach of common soldiers, we are blameless of our actions if we remain loyal. Do not resent the dog that attacks you, if it bites at its masters bidding.”

  “As you wish,” Gondell chuckled, “Hide your feelings behind orders and loyalty if that helps ease your conscience, but whatever you say with your voice, your eyes betray your true thoughts.”

  “You see and understand many things that are unspoken,” the captain smiled sadly, “In another life and another time I feel that we could have been friends.”

  “I am not the enemy, nor are my people,” Gondell replied with a heavy sigh, “And I would welcome the chance to become your friend, but I am afraid that will not be an option for me, my days are numbered.”

  Uproar from the Goblin column cut short any reply that the Man captain may have been contemplating. Panic rang out in Ruaq's voice, quickly replaced by fury as he drew his long curved sword. “What do you mean? You don't know where he is.”

  “He was by my side all the way, I swear captain... I can't explain what happened, he just vanished.” the unfortunate soldier squealed as he jumped aside, narrowly avoiding the full force of a glittering blur of steel, Ruaq's blade glancing harmlessly off plate armour. “Now captain Ruaq, there is no need for this, he can't have got far,” he added breathlessly as he parried another furious blow with his own sword.

  “For you own sake, hope you are right,” hissed Ruaq, his blade poised ominously as he fought to regain his composure, “Get back along the trail and do not return without him... You, go with him.” Ruaq turned to his second in command, “And if the keeper is not found by dawn, execute this worm.”

  “Have you lost something Captain Ruaq?” the Man called, his voice laden with ridicule, “Is it not lucky for you that my troop follows behind, repairing your mistakes, and picking up what you let fall?”

  “That belongs to me,” spat Ruaq as he spotted Gondell standing between two giant Man soldiers.

  “That is a matter of debate, surely the finder of something so carelessly lost also may hold some claim.”

  Fury flared in Ruaq's eyes, and the still-drawn blade in his hand trembled. Gondell thought he saw uncertainty mixing with the rage. Uncertainty or calculation? One or the other, Gondell decided, he doesn't know what to do, this Man frightens him. Does he attack? He has superior numbers, but I don't think he dares, I think the Man soldiers are too skilled and powerful, this could be an interesting development.

  Ruaq relaxed visibly, and a smile covered his bared fangs, “So true Captain Steig, to the finder go the spoils, and so it should be, except, this trifle belongs not to me, it is the property of Lord Kangan himself... and for our lord, no such amicable rules apply... I think only of your own health in this matter.”

  “Concern yourself not for my health,” Captain Steig replied, “I do not answer to Kangan, yet neither would I wish to be considered a thief. Kangan will receive his property, but until we reach the city, the keeper will remain under our protection. Possibly our attentions will be less lax than your own.”

  “As you desire,” Ruaq managed a wide smile and shrugged, “But he must be returned into my care when we enter the city.”

  Steig returned the smile but gave no answer, yet understanding between the two captains lay thick in the air. There will be trou
ble before the end, thought Gondell as he saw the eyes of Man and Goblin locked together, smiling expressions barely masking the contempt felt by both sides. And I'm stuck in the middle!

  The way-point as Captain Steig had called it sprawled across a large circle carved from the rolling grasslands, and ringed by a tall wooden fence, it proved to be just as foreboding as the captain had warned. Most of the ramshackle wooden buildings appeared to have been set aside for entertainment, of all kinds. Gondell watched a short, and very stooped trooper staggering from the doorway of the closest establishment supported by two grotesque females. Just as ugly as male Goblins, he mused, in fact, if it were not for the more obvious differences on display, there would be no way to differentiate their gender. Gondell shuffled closer to the boundary fence as a scuffle broke out amongst another group, blades were drawn and as Steig had promised, blood flowed freely. For the first time since his capture, Gondell felt truly threatened and in danger. Future threat, is fear postponed. But the fear that filled his trembling body was present fear, urgent and immediate. More and more Goblins joined the drunken brawl. Opposing factions? maybe different tribes? thought Gondell as he peeped cautiously around the solid torso of a Man soldier who had placed himself, hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to repel should the disagreement spill over into their small camp. They certainly are savages, how foolish of me to believe that they could ever be civilized, this is their true nature revealed.

  “How are you enjoying the Junction?” asked Steig with a chuckle as he dropped his heavily muscled bulk beside Gondell. “That's what this pit of depravity is called, it has no proper name, but the Junction suits its purpose, for it does mark a junction of sorts. Tomorrow, in the light, you will see that there are many gates in the fence, and many roads that spread out across the plains like spokes from a cart wheel. Some lead to the sea, some to the Gap of Akar, even more to the edge of the desert, but only one leads directly south.”

  “Well, it's certainly entertaining,” Gondell replied, wincing as he saw curved steel pass clear through a Goblin body to emerge stained and dripping black.

  “Charming creatures, are they not.” Steig declared, distaste clear in his expression and tone, “Now you can think yourself lucky to have fallen in with us. Be we on the wrong side or not, you may find our company a little more stable and decorous.”

  “You would rise yet higher in my estimation, if you have food that is fit to eat.” answered Gondell hopefully as his tight and empty stomach rumbled. “Do you hear the echo?” he asked indicating his belly, “Hollow inside, like a cave.”

  “Emptiness is an ill that can be quickly remedied, and you must accept my sincere apology that I did not take hunger into consideration, my mind has been drawn to other equally pressing matters,” Steig answered formally, yet with a teasing edge to his voice. “Maybe our fare will be a little more palatable than that offered by your former hosts, but I cannot promise a banquet, we also march on trail foods.”

  “Anything that I can identify without having to ask will be gratefully accepted,” answered Gondell, suppressing a small shudder as he remembered the sticks of salty dried meat that had been his main sustenance for so many days.

  Only minutes later Captain Steig returned with a light metal bowl and platter. “We call this Rosta,” he explained as he set the bowl down on the ground, “They are smoked and dried on the coast. But leave it some minutes to soften in the water, soon you will find the flesh tender, and the water is good for drinking, salty and smoky at the same time...” he leaned forward, whispering, “It also helps to wash down the biscuit, they are bland, hard and dry, but give strength and stamina.”

  “Fish!” exclaimed Gondell, not attempting to hide his delight, “Smoked fish, this is a banquet to me, of all the things I could dream of eating, fish would be at the top of my list.”

  “Then eat your fill, we soon become tired of Rosta, so there is plenty to spare, I will give instructions for more to be prepared.”

  “Now I know that you are truly civilized and enlightened,” joked the hungry Gnome after his first sip of the hot broth, all thoughts of the continuing battle between the Goblins disappearing as his concentration focussed intently on his meal, “You have not merely risen in my estimation... you now soar up with the eagles.” The reaction to his statement surprised him as a look of pain crossed the captains face, quickly hidden, but obvious.

  “You honour me with your words,” Steig replied, “No greater praise can be given amongst my people.”

  Well done Gondell lad, it looks like you touched a raw nerve, and created another question that begs an answer, he chastised himself. Steig's reply had been respectful and polite, yet there lurked an obvious pain beneath the calm and refined surface. Yet it seemed an innocent enough compliment, he thought, but not for long as the flaky smoked mackerel swiftly drew his full attention away. Better than any banquet, he sighed contentedly as the first mouthful slipped down his throat.

  The hours of darkness passed slowly at the Junction, and exhausted as he was, Gondell found sleep difficult. Steel ringing against steel frequently cut through the general noise of the bustling encampment, arguments fed by strong ales, and even stronger wines flared constantly, the calling and cajoling of the Goblin prostitutes rang shrill in his ears, many daring to approach the sombre and sober camp of Man, receiving scornful rebuke and refusal for their pains.

  “I never imagined such a place in my wildest dreams... or my worst nightmares,” he confided in Captain Steig during a rare lull in the hubbub, “Is it always like this?”

  Steig nodded slowly as he touched a glowing taper to the tobacco in the bowl of his long stemmed clay pipe, “Aye lad... always,” he replied as his keen eyes scanned the camp, “Sometimes much worse, but tonight is really quite quiet, there are not so many different squads here, this that you witness is how Goblins behave between friends.”

  Gondell shook his head sadly, “Are there any decent Goblins? I mean, the Hobbies always appeared decent enough.”

  “Hobgoblins are a strange breed,” Steig nodded again before drawing on the pipe, “Yet they are clever and resourceful... I doubt that your people ever understood the resentment in their hearts as they served. Decent is not a word to describe their temperament... rather, patient suits them better, for they have shown great patience over the long years since the last battle. You saw a race humble and contrite, a race that shared none of the guilt, distanced from their larger more aggressive cousins. But they were complicit, and actively involved, despite what history tells you. They have watched and waited, for many generations, and even as Kangan rose to prominence, still they paused before making their move... No keeper, I would not describe them as decent. But to answer your question, there are few among Goblins, regardless of breed, that do not possess a black heart. Trust none, you see clearly what they do to their closest friends,” he nodded toward another scuffle that had broken out, “Do not think that they can show mercy toward an enemy.”

  “Until a few days ago I didn't believe that I was enemy to anyone, how little my people know of the world, all of this,” he indicated the camp, the Goblins, “We couldn't dream of Goblin camps and armies, those are things relegated to the pages of history books, they don't exist today... or so we thought. We have become insulated, maybe introvert, so wrapped up in our own small lives that we blind ourselves to the larger events around us.”

  “Innocent!” stated Steig.

  “Maybe,” Gondell nodded, “But I have opened my eyes, and I don't like what I see of the world, maybe the Gnomish peoples are simply in denial, and we have been in that state for so long we have forgotten that the world is not perfect.”

  “Denial or innocence, it would appear that your people have managed to live a carefree existence for generations, I envy you that.”

  “Only carefree because we firmly believed that we had no aggressor, no threat looming. I think that we are simply naive.”

  “I prefer to believe you innocent. Living a blis
sful existence without thought of threat.” Steig sighed before relighting his pipe. “My true calling in life is music,” he turned to Gondell, a fire in his eyes, “In happier days I wrote music, played music, sometimes I would even sing my own words... but then came the news of impending war, all men of age were to enlist, to swell the ranks, I became a captain because I have a good education.”

  “But I don't believe that war is imminent,” Gondell stressed, “Even my people would have heard if war were close, warnings would have been issued.” He worked hard to dispel the ravings of old Mayor Wisherton as they forced themselves into his mind, they were rumours, not a proclamation, he assured himself, and wanting to encourage the soft mood displayed by Captain Steig he continued. “I do not believe that the peoples of the south are preparing for any war, I think that you are being fed lies and fabrications. I wish someone up here could wake up and see sense, we should be friends, not preparing for a pointless battle, a conflict fed by Fairy rumours. You should be making music, I should be at home, catching fish. But because of stupid rumour, you are a captain, and I am the legendary keeper, and I am sure that neither of us wishes to carry such a title. Captain Steig, I know in my heart that you are a decent and sensitive person... is there no way that this approaching disaster can be avoided?”

  The look that Gondell received fed his deep confusion, the serious captain paused, his mouth opening, a conflict showing clearly in his eyes, as though debating his next move carefully, moments later his expression of indecision faded, replaced by steely resolve. “You talk of a perfect world, filled with reasonable people. But keeper, this world is far from perfect, and many of its people... far from reasonable. There are fanatics and the misguided, on both sides, there are also the malicious who lust for war, simply for the sake of conflict. You talk of a world that cannot exist, surely good must be balanced by evil, can it really exist alone? How shall we measure what is truly good if we have nothing to measure it against?” He paused, his expression softening,”What you ask is beyond reach now, too much hatred and mistrust exists in the hearts of our leaders. I am truly sorry to say that I feel conflict is inescapable, but you spoke one great truth, I would wish to return to a quiet life, a life where only my music mattered. But we shall see keeper, sometimes miracles happen, and events unforeseen change the direction of future history, keep some small hope in your heart, maybe not all will be lost.”

  There is a message behind his words, Gondell studied the captains eyes, his reply had begun in a firm tone, but had ended in hope, yet his words did not speak as clearly as his eyes. The mouth can tell lies, but the eyes always speak the truth, Gondell told himself as he tried to fathom the mixed message. Changing direction Gondell steered the conversation onto a new course.

  “What brought your company so far south?” he asked, “From what I have guessed, you are a people of the north... and also, you spoke of yourselves as men earlier, I thought you were the Man?”

  Steig laughed softly, “So many questions, I will answer the second while I debate the first. We are of the tribe of Man, named after our first king Manus, originally we called ourselves in our ancient language Hew Manus, the People of Manus, but the Goblins, in their ignorance began to call us humans. We then shortened our name to the Tribe of Man, the Goblins again sullied our name, referring to us as man in the singular, but men in the plural... men means worms in their native tongue, they believed they insulted us without our knowledge. They did the same with the name of our partners, from Woh Manus, the companions of Manus, they arrived at women, the companions of worms.” Steig grinned, “But these are just words, and over the years they have lost their meaning, we adopted the new words, they hurt not for we are aloof, above such pettiness, reaction and anger only feeds such spite.”

  “And my first question?” Gondell prompted.

  Steig smiled, a small smile, yet his eyes shone. “Simply business of the King, nothing more, nothing less.”

  Oh much more than simply business, or your eyes lie, acknowledged the Gnome silently, feeling that a great intrigue hid behind the simple reply.