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Authors: Abigail Borders

Tags: #Fantasy

Cyrion (6 page)

BOOK: Cyrion
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“I always was a better brawler. Not much use with daggers. Your mother though, a whole other story.” He winked, smiling with evident pride. “So what’s the plan?”

“Just be ready to attack when the time comes.” Jon scanned the camp, his anxiety level rising.

“Is there a signal?”

“Not exactly. But you’ll know.” Jon searched for a target while he reached into his pack. His sweaty fingers curled around the topmost egg, safely nestled in its cocoon of dried leaves. He found what he was looking for—the goblin standing guard over the sleeping women. That would be his first target.

Come on Anya. All up to you now. Come on, before it gets too light…

* * * *

Anya began to slowly count to five hundred under her breath after the boys left, wishing she had the comfort and reassurance of her lupine pack.
But we all have our tasks to perform
. She was more nervous and exhausted than she let on, but saw no sense in worrying her new human friends. Not when there was nothing they could do to help.

Besides, they already had enough on their plates.

She did not tell them she never tried to
reach
more than two or three animals already bonded to her in friendship at any one time. Reaching the un-bonded adders two days in a row tired her more than she expected. Soon she would have to
reach
into two un-bonded oxen and convince them to bolt to where Saul was, hopefully, in place. Then she would have to
reach
simultaneously into all of her lupine friends. Two to guide the children, and the rest to help with the main fight at the goblin camp. She would need to continue her
reaching
for as long as they need to win the fight.

Four hundred and ninety-eight. Four hundred and ninety-nine. Five hundred
.

Anya straightened her back, made sure she was as well hidden as possible, and then concentrated on slowing her breathing.

It had begun.

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE FIRST RESCUE

 

Pandemonium.

The oxen bellowed, bolted, and broke free from their tethers. Heads lowered, they snorted and charged across the goblin camp. They ran through the campfire, towing the wagon of screaming children behind them. Glowing, red-gold embers that scattered around the campsite left their mark in form of small smoky fires when they scorched the dried summer grass and the goblins’ light woolen cloaks. Bones crunched and ragged bodies flew as the oxen gored, trampled, or ran over any trooper too slow to get out of their way. The pre-dawn air was thick with the screams of dying goblins and the scent of spilled blood, singed wool and burned grass.

“Now, Dad!” Jon hurled the egg.

The men leapt, blades flashing, and slashed the throats of goblins wounded by the pair of stampeding oxen. Jon’s egg smashed against another goblin’s front tusks. The trooper dropped his dagger, gagging, before falling to his knees, clawing at his face and throat. Logan ran up to him, gripped his head, and then twisted.

CRACK.

It worked!
He threw his remaining eggs in quick succession.

Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!
Arti dashed to the gagging goblins bent on the ground, snatched two of their daggers and stabbed them, one after another.

Jon unslung his bow, nocked his arrow, and took aim.

No good
. The light was chancy, and everyone was moving too fast.

Geoff swung his manacles over his head, turning them into a makeshift flail. The improvised weapon made a sickening thud as it caved in a skull. The goblin dropped like a felled tree.

Teeth bared in a feral grin and a dagger in each hand, Arti circled a lone goblin, moonlight glinting off the edge of her blades. She darted and feinted in a deadly duel.

Jon dropped his bow onto the trampled grass as two goblins approached, trying to flank him. Without warning, a snarling flash of silver leapt from the forest.
Minari.
She landed on the back of one of the goblins, knocking him to the ground, her teeth at his neck. Jon heard a wet crunch. The goblin lay limp. Minari jumped off the carcass and lunged at another goblin approaching Geoff. Her chops dripped orange with goblin blood.

“Logan! Wolves!” Geoff shouted as he turned, his makeshift flail making an ominous whir.

“No! They’re with us!” Jon said, distracted for a moment. He was afraid for the pack as it swarmed the campsite, snapping and lunging at every goblin in reach. As the words left his lips, the other goblin rushed at him. Jon hurled the Slayer. The goblin dodged. The Slayer thudded harmlessly on the trampled summer grass.

Jon froze, watching the goblin raise his blade for a killing stroke, his mind a complete blank when the goblin stopped in his tracks, an expression of shock on its bestial face. He swayed, and then fell face-forward. A dagger hilt jutted from the back of his neck. Jon looked up, open-mouthed, at his mother.

“Jon, focus!” Arti said. “And what did we tell you about that knife?” She danced with practiced ease away from her opponent’s dagger thrusts.

Jon darted forward and retrieved the Slayer.

A pair of snarling wolves dragged Arti’s opponent down. She slit his throat with professional efficiency.

Breathing hard, Jon scanned the scene, counting as quickly as he could.
Thirteen goblin and eight human corpses. So there should be seven goblins left alive.

So why can I only spot six?
Jon’s stomach felt like it had dropped down to the ground. He was sickened with panic.

Did Anya miscount?

Did I?

Wiping the sweat from his eyes with impatience and trying to quell a rapidly growing sense of panic, Jon counted again.

* * * *

Captain D’hibuk watched the trio from his perch up in the trees. His silhouette perfectly blended with the shadows of the forest at night. Ah! He could always count on the arrogance of the young. While he took the time to sniff out their every move, they did not even bother to check if he was still at camp.

Aside from their arrogance, he also found humans gullible and greedy. Manipulating them required only intimidation, trickery or, his personal favorite, a certain amount of gold. A human mud slogger could be tempted to betray his superiors for gold. Not so for goblin-kind. He smiled when the immature human males left the
MataPerak
without even so much as a token wolf to guard her.

Not that it would have made any difference.

Captain D’hibuk remained motionless and silent, even as metal crashed and the dying cries of his troopers shattered the forest’s customary pre-dawn chorus. He ordered his troopers to keep the humans occupied for as long as possible, whatever the cost. They were chattel. Expendable. The mission was crucial. And the mission was never about rounding up humans. The mission, his mission, was always about obtaining the
MataPerak
at all costs.

MataPerak
. Silver Eyes.

He did not know why General D’horek wanted her so badly. He did not need to know. He only knew he spent months laying this trap, ever since he heard a few rumored sightings of the
MataPerak
. He reveled in the warm glow of a job well done when he reflected on how all his hard work would soon come to fruition. D’hibuk took a lot of personal pride in the fact he found his work deeply satisfying.

His smile widened when lupine snarls mingled with the screams of his troopers.
A little longer…
He wondered how General D’horek would reward him for his work.

Now.

D’hibuk jumped from his perch, landing on the forest floor like a single leaf on a still pond. He crept in perfect silence behind the
MataPerak
, a crude oak club in hand.

In truth, D’hibuk did not really care for any reward. The most important thing—no, the only thing—was that he would make his General proud.

A goblin soldier’s absolute, unquestioning loyalty to his superior was legendary.

D’hibuk raised his club.

* * * *

Crack
!

The padlock finally shattered.

Saul briefly considered putting Talitha in charge. Although very young, she was fearless. Unfortunately, she also tended to disappear into the bushes chasing an interesting beetle.

Sighing, Saul turned to the girl next to Talitha.

“Erin, you’re in charge.” Saul slapped one of Anya’s “liberated” daggers into her hand. He knew her well. After all, they had grown up together. She had a good head on her shoulders and was reasonably adept with weapons. And significantly less likely to disappear into the bushes, chasing a beetle.

“Take the oxen and follow the wolves. Stay quiet. Go. Now!”

“But what if they eat us?” Erin asked.

Saul sighed. But also a bit of a scaredy-cat.
Oh well
.

“They won’t. Trust me. I don’t have time to explain, just do it!” Saul shook his finger for emphasis. “Stay quiet, stay together, and don’t get lost!”

Saul raced to the goblin camp, praying all had gone as they planned. He burst through the undergrowth with his axe raised high and a fearsome war cry on his lips. Saul skidded to a halt, war cry dying in his throat.

The wolves…what’s wrong with them?

“Jon!” Saul cried.

* * * *

The children had not gone very far at all when the wolves started rolling and thrashing on the ground. All the children huddled together, terrified.

All, that is, save one.

Talitha frowned. “What’s wrong with them?”

Erin pushed the other children behind her, placing herself between them and the wolves.

“I don’t know.” Erin caught Talitha in her arms, stroking the crown of her head. “But I think Saul’s right. They’re not going to hurt us. I don’t even think they can.”

“Tali!” Erin cried as the smaller child broke free then darted to one of the thrashing wolves.

She crouched beside it and stretched out her hand while Erin and the other children watched in silent fear.

“It’s okay,” Talitha said, her fingers rhythmically stroking the wolf’s silver-grey fur. “No one is going to hurt you.”

* * * *

The officer! Where is the goblin officer?
Jon finally realized.

Without warning, all the wolves dropped to the ground, whining and crying as if in pain. They thrashed on their backs and sides, exposing their necks and vulnerable bellies.

Anya!

The fighting ceased for a split second. A goblin, deciding to take advantage of the situation, turned and charged at a thrashing albino wolf.

Minari!

Her mind is melded with theirs. If something happens to them—

Jon raised Slayer and charged, screaming, intercepting the goblin’s path. He barreled into his side, knocked the trooper off his feet, and stabbed blindly.

“Jon!” Arti’s voice rang with terror.

“Arti, no!” Logan said. “We cover the wolves. Trust me.”

Arti slashed at the closest goblin as she turned. Logan sidestepped his opponent, grabbed its outstretched arm, and twisted.

The goblin howled in pain.

“Jon!”

Jon looked up and saw Saul on the other side of the camp.

“Saul! It’s Anya! Go!”

Saul turned and ran crashing back into the forest.

Jon kept on blindly stabbing until the goblin stopped moving. He got up and charged at the next one, determined to keep on going until he knew Anya was safe.

Or until a goblin brought him down
.

Whichever comes first.

* * * *

Saul crashed through the undergrowth. The goblin officer was bent over Anya, tying the last knots on the ropes that bound her.

“Let her go!” Saul swung his axe.

The goblin officer dodged easily.

“This is not your fight, boy. I am Captain D’hibuk of the Unified Goblin Forces, and I order you to stand down.” D’hibuk rose and picked up his club.

“No! She’s my friend, let her go.” Saul swung his axe again.

D’hibuk leapt to the side. The boy and the goblin circled each other.

“I have no quarrel with you. Just turn around and walk away. Your family is safe, and you will never see my kind ever again. Everything can go back to normal, just the way it was. I only want the
MataPerak
, the female. What is she to you anyway? Just someone you met a few days ago.”

Saul stopped in his tracks. He found himself between the goblin officer and Anya. An unfamiliar coldness washed through his mind. He risked a quick glance at Anya’s still form.
Still breathing
.

“How did you know we met just a few days ago?”

“Because I’ve spent years tracking the
MataPerak
and the last few months laying this trap to catch her.” D’hibuk lifted his chin, chest thrust forward, shoulders back and feet apart. He was glowing with obvious pride.

Saul studied his opponent. The goblin was not much bigger than he was, and armed only with an oak club.

Anya said they were deceptively fast and strong.
So, not good odds. What else is new? Well, he sounds arrogant. There is that in my favor.

“Why is she so important to you?” Saul asked.
Have to keep him talking. Get him to underestimate me. Maybe I can find a weakness.
Saul lowered his axe all the way down, and let his left arm hang limp at his side and his jaw slacken.

“I can pay you any amount of gold to secure the female.”

Got you.
“Any amount?” Saul bent his head towards the goblin, an apparent gleam of avarice and speculation in his eyes.


Any
amount,” D’hibuk said, a wheedling note in his voice. “Think of what this kind of money can do for your family.”

The goblin officer lowered his club slightly. Saul watched D’hibuk run his yellow eyes over his homespun shirt and torn leggings. He scratched his armpit and tried to look tempted by the goblin’s offer of gold.

“But…she’s my friend.”

“You are young. You’ll make other, better, less dangerous friends.” D’hibuk lowered his club, and guard, even further.

BOOK: Cyrion
2.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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