A Short Story With Goblins
What’s Up Danger
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Kerowyn had been watching the whole thing from her perch on a boulder nearby. As she saw it if they were going to get caught in a crossfire of magic fireballs and lightning bolts—and they were! —then she’d rather be on the side which fired more than one at a time.
Her own mage powers allowed her to dodge almost everything aimed at them anyway. And since the spellcasters weren’t all firing at once, there was little danger of someone getting caught in the blast.
But now that she saw what was happening with the other side, she had second thoughts about how much good their tactics would do. The goblins were using their bows as well as throwing spears and javelins, although not so well with the latter. She saw two goblins hit the ground and roll away from a spear thrown by one of her friends.
And while she watched, Kero realized something else. They were fighting like children! A couple of the archers seemed to have some coordination and skill for shooting at targets over short distances.
Most didn’t have anything even close to that. And the javelin throwers had a similar lack of coordination. It wasn’t that their accuracy was bad; it just wasn’t there. So why waste arrows on them? If they were going to use up their ammunition, they should save it against the bigger threats.
She decided then and there that when they got free of this little skirmish, there would be no more wasting arrows on the enemy. That was too wasteful and stupid. Better to let them keep shooting until they ran out completely than to expend half an arrow each time.
She could see the logic behind the tactic of the others. Since these foes didn’t know any better, it might work. But if it did, she wouldn’t count on it working again. Not unless there was another way to tell the foe apart.
Then she remembered what the goblins had used to distinguish themselves from the orcs: their color scheme. There hadn’t been many among those in armor who had red or green clothing—or at least, nothing different about the red or green clothing itself—but she saw one.
And he was standing farther back. He wore a bright red shirt and green breeches. That should help her identify him. So, she’d wait until his turn came around to make sure her team members didn’t shoot him and thus give away their plan.
Then she noticed something else. “Hang on,” she told the archers, seeing that one of the goblins with the bow had drawn back and was aiming at one of her friends. Now that was dangerous. If it wasn’t a trick, they had a chance of hitting each other—especially if the bow was poorly made, but she suspected that it was.
She saw her friend duck slightly under the shaft before the shot landed, but not enough that he didn’t feel the sting. She knew then that it was no joke and called upon her mage power. She felt a momentary flash of pain herself as her spell struck home, but she ignored it.
“Fire!” she cried out, raising her hands as a shield of flame sprang into being. The first arrow went past her left hand as its bolt exploded against the flames, leaving behind nothing more than an unpleasant smell. But the next three shots were less fortunate for the goblin.
The bolt from the third bounced off her flaming barrier and rebounded harmlessly, striking another of her friends. Then, when she turned back to face her attackers, her eyes were met by a sight none of her friends would ever forget. Three arrows were pointed directly at them and one arrow was already stuck in a tree trunk near her feet.
“Oh, you’re going to pay for that,” Kerowyn said to the offending foe, as he stared down at his ruined weapon. And he was right. She was sure of it. He’d just gotten lucky last time—the arrow had struck the wood of the trunk just so, instead of bouncing back onto the field—but there was no such luck today. She could almost swear he grinned at her.
The bowman’s expression changed instantly. His lips pulled back and his teeth bared, showing his sharp yellow fangs. The next shot went wide and the next one went wild as he swung the bow up toward his head. Kerowyn took a step back from the sudden movement and the arrow missed her by inches.
She could see the bowstring twitching as the bowman struggled to bring it down. She didn’t wait until it was too late to act. She stepped forward and thrust her right hand forward, palm outward. With a loud crack of thunder, her lightning bolt struck home and knocked the bow out of his hands, and sent him flying backward several paces.
But now she wasn’t sure what to do with him, because she couldn’t quite figure out whether he was dead or not. But she wasn’t about to go and find out. He might yet have the magic of some sort that would hurt them when they were in trouble.
She was glad that the other archer had been able to get a shot off after all. It looked as though her spell had been enough to distract him from whatever he’d planned. She was still holding her fire against any further attempts on her team’s lives, but she hoped that was enough to keep anyone else from trying anything similar.
She didn’t want any more surprises on the battlefield, much less within the ranks of her allies.
Her friends weren’t about to let her forget that. They were all looking at her as if she’d gone mad. She understood that feeling only too well and nodded. “Yes,” she agreed simply. “It worked.” But how to explain this particular brand of sorcery?
Well, she wasn’t likely to be the first to try such a thing. Perhaps someone had tried and succeeded and written about it somewhere. Then she thought of another option.
“Maybe it has something to do with the lightning rod spell. Did you know that I could channel spells through my shield?”
“I’ve heard stories, but I’m pretty sure it’s impossible. No one can channel their magic through a physical object like that—it doesn’t work,” Kerowyn’s friend replied, shaking his head. “And I don’t think you could channel your magic through a lightning rod, either.
That’s too simple. Lightning rods are usually made of bronze or copper or brass, and they’re meant to protect people from lightning strikes. They aren’t magical at all.”
Kerowyn considered this. She was used to being dismissed as a wizard without knowing it and it had happened many times before. Maybe she was wrong. But if lightning rods did exist and she managed to get one in place over her friends while they fought, then maybe she was right after all.
It seemed worth a try, anyway, and it was better than leaving her friends defenseless against lightning bolts. She decided that she would give it a try when there were fewer enemies around. There was little chance of lightning hitting where she was standing, which was the safest location in these woods if she didn’t want to take any chances.
“Then we’ll have to hope it works,” she sighed, realizing that she had probably lost her credibility with her allies on the subject of arcane matters once more.
But the others were quick to remind her who she really was. One of them was quick to point out that Kerowyn hadn’t told them of the lightning rod spell before. It was possible that her friends had never even realized that lightning rods existed.
And another pointed out that if lightning rods could deflect lightning bolts, that meant they could also deflect lightning spells, too. Kerowyn shook her head. That was ridiculous, she explained. A lightning bolt wouldn’t hit a metal lightning rod—it’d bounce right off into space.
It made perfect sense. Or perhaps lightning bolts were too powerful and they simply didn’t notice that her lightning bolt had struck home. She knew she had a good deal of power with the lightning bolt and her own strength, but lightning bolts were much more powerful than she was.
The conversation continued in a similar vein for a short while. All except Kerowyn were willing to believe that lightning rods were effective in protecting against lightning bolts, but none of them believed that Kerowyn could actually make one work. In fact, they seemed rather convinced that she couldn’t cast a single lightning bolt without making a mess of things.
“I wish I could understand how you do this magic,” Kerowyn said finally, shaking her head sadly. “I feel like I should be able to figure it out by now, but I just don’t know. How does it happen?”
Her friends glanced at each other uncertainly. The only real mages among them were her friends, and none of them would admit to understanding it, either. But Kerowyn was certain they didn’t know how it worked, either. She suspected that the lightning bolt was a natural phenomenon—that the gods were involved somehow.
But there was no way to prove it, so she had to accept her allies’ assurances that lightning bolts weren’t controlled by anyone. If anything, they simply happened and it was nothing more than coincidence that her lightning bolt always seemed to strike home.
Even if she couldn’t control her lightning bolts, that was good enough for her. Her friends needed protection from lightning bolts just like everyone else did, and since she was the only one who seemed to be able to defend against lightning bolts, Kerowyn was happy to provide what help she could.
She was still wondering about this when they reached the edge of the forest and found a clear path leading up into the hills ahead. They followed it quickly, not wanting to lose sight of the trail in the thick undergrowth. They climbed steadily upwards until they came to the top of a small rise and saw their destination.
It was hard to see very far into the mist, but they could catch glimpses of the town nestled at the base of a tall hill ahead. Kerowyn wondered whether this was the place she was searching for and she wished that someone had come along a week earlier so they could share what information they’d gathered thus far.
They approached the gates cautiously, watching for any sign of trouble. When they got close enough to tell that the gates were open, however, there was no need to wait for guards to answer their knock on the wood. A young man appeared suddenly at the bottom of the steps with a sword at his side.
“What’s happening here? What brings you all this way?” he asked with a nervous glance toward the sky. The sun was beginning its slow climb above the horizon, but clouds blocked it from reaching the zenith yet, leaving a thin blanket of fog across the land.
“We’ve been sent by Lord Taurukin,” Kerowyn replied. “We’ve come to fight demons.”
The young guard was startled by this. Demons? He was surprised that such creatures were even allowed in Korth. No demon had ever dared attack this place before. Not since the last battle, anyway. But then again, no one expected the Archdemon to send an Archdemon’s son into war, either.
His eyes widened slightly as he looked at Kerowyn. He recognized her immediately—she was the Archdemon’s son, after all—but he didn’t appear terribly thrilled with the prospect of fighting demons himself. “That’s why you’re here, is it?” he asked, glancing around. “You mean to say you aren’t looking for some sort of wizard or spell caster to join your army, then?”
Kerowyn nodded, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. It seemed odd that he would suggest that wizards could help them defeat demons when every mage knew how deadly demons were. But she supposed that the young man might have heard rumors that wizards were capable of doing something different, some sort of spell that could defeat demons.
“No, we are seeking wizards and spell casters,” she agreed. “And I’m afraid you’ll find very few of us here.”
He shrugged easily and held his hands out, palms up. “Well, I suppose there’s no harm in trying. Where do you want me to go?”
With that, the young man disappeared back down the stairs and disappeared into the town below, leaving the others alone with a strange sense of unease. They exchanged glances, unsure what to say next. Kerowyn was about to suggest that they return to their horses and continue on their search when one of the other men spoke first.
“Lord Taurukin will know best where we can get spells and wizards,” he said. “But I don’t think he’s going to let us into his stronghold if he finds out that you’re his son, Kerowyn.”
Kerowyn frowned. This was exactly the type of problem she hadn’t anticipated finding when she set out for Korth.
“If he finds out who I am, Lord Taurukin should be delighted to have me on his side,” she argued. “I’ll be one of the best fighters he has—if I manage not to kill myself in the process.”
They laughed nervously but agreed nonetheless. She was right, they thought. Lord Taurukin had probably sent the Archdemon’s son because he knew that Kerowyn wasn’t likely to be a threat if she managed not to get herself killed during the course of battle. But they were also concerned about whether Taurukin was going to be pleased by this discovery of his.
The sun rose slowly over the trees surrounding them as they followed the young man through the gates of the little village. Most of the buildings in the town were small wooden dwellings made of logs and mud bricks.
Some were large enough to hold a family of four, but most were just a single room with a roof and a chimney. Kerowyn had never seen anything like them before—they reminded her of hobbit houses, but much smaller.
She had hoped to find a wizard among the residents, but instead, they found several other soldiers who had also joined Taurukin’s army, along with a handful of mages and spell casters. There was no sign of any priests, though, which was unfortunate. Kerowyn had been counting on having another priest or two to lend a hand.
It took the group of seven nearly two hours to pass through the entire village and locate each person they needed to speak with, including the town’s only cleric, an old woman with gray hair. The clerics and mages they spoke with assured her that there wasn’t anyone available who was able to teach them any magic.
Kerowyn wondered why she’d bothered speaking with so many people to begin with, but it hardly mattered now.
When they finally reached Lord Taurukin’s keep, the sun had climbed fully above the treetops, turning the sky a bright, blazing orange. Kerowyn could feel the heat from the sunlight even through the heavy cloak she wore, and she was sweating lightly despite the cold winter air. The town was empty now; it appeared as though everyone had already returned to bed after a long day’s labor outside.
“What do you make of that?” Taurus asked, pointing at a nearby building with his chin. “Is that where you’ll be staying?”
Kerowyn nodded. “Yes, if Lord Taurukin allows me to use it.”
Taurus grunted in approval and led them toward a larger brick structure, built against the outer wall of his castle fortress. Inside, a pair of guards greeted them and directed them to go on inside.
After walking past a few other doors and chambers along the way, they reached the entrance hall of the castle. It was huge, far more spacious than Kerowyn expected. A number of couches, tables, chairs, and chests filled the area with a clutter of furniture.
A few servants moved from room to room, carrying various objects, some of which were large enough to have come from the kitchens. As soon as they entered, Taurukin’s steward approached and bowed low. He spoke to Taurukin, who turned to the party.
“You’ve met my steward, I assume?” Taurus inquired. “My good fellow, this is Kerowyn, daughter of Sir Armor.”
The man bowed again, smiling broadly. “Greetings, Kerowyn,” he said. “Welcome home.”
She smiled back and felt her heart thumping faster than ever before at such familiarity. She’d never met anyone besides her father, brother, and mother who seemed so eager to welcome her—not even the Archdemon himself. But she couldn’t afford to show too much emotion.
“Thank you,” she said simply. “Are there rooms for us here?”
He led her deeper into the keep, down a series of corridors that eventually emptied onto a wide open space that must have been the main floor of the castle. Several servants and guards stood around chatting and moving through a large, well-lit hall full of tapestries and paintings hung on walls of richly decorated red marble.
A fireplace burned brightly against one end of the room, and a table covered with food items occupied its center. Kerowyn recognized it as being similar to the feasting hall they’d used when they first arrived, with rows of benches stretching out on either side of the central fire.
But unlike the other chamber they’d visited, there were no windows, and a number of large torches lit every inch of the room, casting flickering shadows everywhere.
“That’s my private study,” Taurukin explained. “You’ll be staying in here while you’re with me. You may have to help with some chores if you can spare the time.” He gestured toward a stairway leading upward. “I don’t know what else I can do for you right now, though.”
Kerowyn didn’t reply; instead, she looked up toward the ceiling of the great hall. She spotted something hanging from chains on the wall high overhead. At first glance, it might not have appeared to be anything special—just another painting, perhaps? Or maybe it was part of a decoration.
The room’s light had faded considerably since their arrival, leaving everything cast in shadow except for a small spot near the fireplace that was brightly illuminated by the flames of the burning logs inside. There was an odd glow to this single area, as though the flame were illuminating itself from behind.
Kerowyn stepped closer and saw it was indeed a torch that seemed to shine with its own light; it was surrounded by a ring of candles all of which glowed in a different pattern as if several pieces of colored glass formed a halo about the base of the candle. It almost looked as if it were glowing with a faint blue-white fire instead of yellow.
The End