Regret's Shadow (Sins of Earth Trilogy) Page 11

  Hade flushed. He realized he was in a bit of a pickle here, and so did the barkeep. He could protest, but the last thing he wanted to do was make a scene that might end up in violence.

  “I’ve got a few more friends outside. I’ll be needing…accommodations for them as well, if you’ve got it,” he wasn’t fond of the man, but he couldn’t be sure he should fault him for his reaction. The crowd was ominously silent behind them.

  “A gold, then,” the barkeep sniffed.

  Hade balked. The man was asking a month’s wages to allow them to shack up in the stables for one night. It was preposterous. Still, he felt for his purse, choking on his indignation.

  With dawning horror, he remembered he didn’t have his purse.

  A clack of metal on wood brought his head up sharply. The princess’s slender gloved fingers were receding from the countertop, leaving a golden ring in their place.

  Hade gawked at the jewelry; it was of incredibly fine make. The gold had an almost luminescent quality in the lamplight, and he could see the eyes of the barkeep sparkle.

  “That should be enough for lodging and a meal.”

  Ethelrynne’s voice carried easily through the room. It was a voice used to command, and everyone heard the strange accent. Her violet eyes dared the barkeep to refuse her.

  Instead, a meaty paw reached across the counter and enveloped the ring. He brought the jewelry up to his eyes and let a lavicious grin spread across broken teeth. He nodded excitedly and waved the two of them off, the matter settled.

  Disgusted, but flush with relief, Hade turned and walked with the princess toward the exit. As they walked, he whispered to her.

  “It wasn’t worth that ring to stay in the stables!”

  She showed him a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. As he opened the door into the rain, she went ahead of him.

  “It was only a gift…from my father.”

  An hour later they were settled among the hay bales in the loft of the stables. It was drafty, and smelled of wet manure, but they were out of the wind and rain.

  A wide-eyed stable boy had brought them a wheel of cheese, some smoked sausage, two loaves of bread, and a plate of pickles. There had been a bottle of wine as well, with stout wooden cups to pass around.

  The rangers had spread out some flakes as a reasonably comfortable mattress for the princess to lie upon. They’d lain their cloaks over it, as she made protests. She argued with them until they’d all conceded to make their own beds.

  Once the sleeping arrangements were taken care of, they’d enjoyed the simple fare and began to relax as the wine warmed their blood.

  Hade was surprised to learn how easily he was becoming comfortable around the elves. He’d even felt a bit of tribal protection toward them as he’d dealt with the innkeeper, and he still wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

  He put it out of his mind. Strange times made for strange bedfellows.

  “So, Hade,” the sergeant, Chazmyr, pulled him from his thoughts, “Is this the first time you’ve been forced to sleep in the stables?”

  The elf had a smile on his face, but the soldier blushed all the same. He was embarrassed by the innkeeper’s treatment and wished his fellow humans had shown less ignorance. Still, he forced himself to return the smile.

  “Oh no, not by any means,” He chuckled, “As a kid on the streets of Galloway, I used to crash out in some odd places. After I became a soldier, it didn’t get much better. In fact, I probably had softer accommodations in the city.”

  He smiled as a memory came to him.

  “One night, I’d had a little too much to drink,” he paused as several of the rangers made low noises of amusement, “I was shooting darts at a tavern near the ‘Folly…”

  Smiles slipped at the mention of the fort. They’d spent the last two days going over what had happened there, making sure they all knew the details backward and forward to make a proper report to the king, and ensure they had the best information with which to formulate a plan. Hade decided to plow ahead.

  “Well, there was this one fella who had held a grudge against me for years, ever since I’d rolled with his sister for a time. He’d been drinking a bit too much that night, but he was dead set on beating me at darts.

  “He’d always tried to one up me whenever we were in the same place. I thought it was silly, but he insisted on challenging me.”

  Ethelrynne leaned forward, taking a sip from her wine. Hade couldn’t imagine the tale genuinely interested her, but it distracted him from the shame he felt because of their situation.

  “The game went as well as you might imagine; the guy wasn’t your most dexterous hand, and I’d spent years developing my targeting skills.

  “Needless to say, he was frothing mad by the end of it.”

  He took a haul off the wine to pause for effect.

  “Neither one of us had been paying attention as much as we should have, and one of us had been careless with his darts…

  “His ass looked like a pin cushion when he leapt up off that chair, and his bellowing had been my cue to make an exit.”

  The elves chuckled politely. Hade cleared his throat.

  “Anyhow, he had limped after me across half the damn town before I’d crawled into a stable and passed out. So, as you can see, this isn’t the first night I’ve stayed in a horse hovel.”

  He leaned in and grabbed a slice of cheese. As he sat back he popped it into his mouth. Chazmyr edged forward and smiled at him.

  “So…this inn you played darts at? Was it stone like this one, or made entirely of dead trees?”

  A collective groan went up from the others, none louder than those of the princess.

  “Oh, Chazmyr! That’s what you got from his tale?”

  She nearly spilled her cup as she giggled. Hade thought that her eyes were positively dancing.

  “Leave it to him to be interested in the least interesting part of the story!”

  The others all laughed good-naturedly at their friend. After a moment of looking surprised, Chazmyr gave in and chuckled at himself. He sat back and took pull off his own wine.

  “Ahh, don’t be so hard on him, Your Grace,” this from a slight, russet-haired ranger named Heldvir. He leaned in and sliced a hunk off the wheel and slid it onto his tongue. As he sat back he pointed his knife toward his grinning sergeant.

  “He’s trying to figure out what kind of cottage he’s going to build for his blushing human bride!”

  Hade’s eyes bulged at the bold comment, but the others merely guffawed. It seemed to be a running joke among this group, and the soldier was astounded.

  Did elves really dream of marrying humans? Nothing like that had happened since before the Goblin War, if the tales were true. It was a startling insight into their lives, and a welcome one for Hade, who held on to his hopes of an alliance.

  Ethelrynne regarded him with smiling eyes as she sipped from her cup. She was gauging his reaction, he realized. He just smiled and shook his head.

  These folk had seemed so strange and alien to him just two days ago. Now it appeared that they were more like men than anyone had imagined. He assumed a serious expression and regarded the sergeant.

  “A word of advice, Chaz,” he adopted the sergeant’s nickname with ease. Chazmyr jerked his head to regard the human, his smile dropping suddenly.

  “Build big, my friend…build big. And make the walls thick. The siren call of a human lady can turn into the screech of a harpy at the drop of a hat!”

  It hung in the air for just a moment before Heldvir choked on his cheese and the group just lost it. The soldier joined in their laughter, and for a moment he felt completely at ease.

  He was developing a kinship with these folk that came close to the bonds he had shared with his fellow soldiers, and had done so in just a few days.

  If anyone had told him that he’d be in a stable, drinking wine and sharing jokes with a bunch of elves three days ago, he’d have locked them in solitary for a few days to see
if the crazy would sweat out of ‘em. He shook his head at the absurdity of it all.

  “Well, gentlemen,” the princess broke in after the laughter had dropped down, “I believe we should turn in. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover come morning.”

  Everyone sat up. Ethelrynne rose and set down her cup before retiring to her straw bed. There were grunts and grumbles as the rest of them did the same.

  For Hade’s part, he reached over and turned down the lantern and then rolled back to stare at the rafters in the dark. He marveled at the feelings roiling in his gut, surprised that he was able to feel so optimistic, despite all that had happened. Perhaps it’s the wine, he thought.

  He listened to the rain patter on the shingles. It didn’t take long for the rhythmic prattle to lull him to sleep.

  A gloved hand covered his mouth and he jerked awake. It was lighter, he could make out the tense face of Chazmyr hovering over his, with a finger over his pursed lips.

  It took Hade several moments to bring his panic under control. When his breathing slowed and his body relaxed, the ranger removed his hand.

  Slowly, he used the finger held to his lips to point over toward the edge of the loft. Hade curled to a sitting position, surprisingly free of aches for once. Chaz guided him to his feet and over to the edge.

  In the stable below, creeping through the lightening gloom, was a goblin.

  Hade jerked his head around. All the elves were alert and ready, peering over the lip of the loft. Ethelrynne had her bow drawn, and seeing that Hade had marked the goblin, she loosed.

  With barely a whisper, the shaft tore through the greenskin’s throat. There was a sound, like water being wrung from a rag, and the monster went down in an arterial spray. Several horses whinnied as the foul stench of goblin grew stronger in the damp air.

  Immediately the elves began to descend to the ground, while Hade quickly retrieved his gear. His mind spun; goblins were in the town! By the time he’d joined the elves on the dirt of the stable floor, he was thinking that it made some sense.

  They had moved as fast as they could to the town, but had gone through the forest for several miles before they’d made the road. The goblins, if they were part of an advance party, would have made great time on the road all the way from the fort. He cursed their luck.

  Heldvir and Tinder went to cover the openings while the group squared-up.

  “The goblins have sent raiding parties in advance of the main force,” Hade said.

  Ethelrynne nodded, “We should have expected that.”

  Everyone assumed suitably shameful expressions.

  “We’ve got to get out and see how many there are,” Chazmyr suggested.

  “Indeed. And hope no one in the town’s militia decides that elves look an awful lot like goblins in the morning mist.” Hade looked dubious.

  “Chaz, take Heldvir, Tinder, and Leaf with you around the northern perimeter of the town,” the princess commanded.

  “Hade, you’re with me. Brendle, Veld, Sprig…let’s go.”

  The group split and moved into the mist-shrouded town. Nerves were on edge. Eyes darted here and there, searching shadows and dim spots in the fog for the forms of goblins. It seemed as if most of the town still slept, and Hade wasn’t sure if that was a good sign. He supposed it depended on the size of the force that had invaded.

  Ethelrynne stalked by his side, leading the small group. Hade thought that he should be surprised at how easily he took to her commands, but he realized it was foolish. She was royalty, and from what he could ascertain, leader of the elven rangers.

  She was not only accustomed to people following her commands, but she was extremely competent in the role. He hoped that he could be valuable to the group, beyond acting as a human liaison.

  His contemplations nearly got him killed, as a burly hobgoblin rushed from between two buildings and was upon him almost before he could bring his sword to bear. The sound of metal on metal rang out in the still morning. It seemed as if that were the signal for all hell to break loose.

  Roars of maniacal glee erupted around them, seeming to come from all directions in the mist. Hade’s heart leapt into his throat, both from the cacophony and the imminent threat of death. He struggled mightily with his opponent, grinding blade against blade, while the other members of their small squad became pressed from multiple foes.

  He stared in horrid fascination at the long tusks and bourbon-colored eyes of the hobgoblin. It had obviously lived far longer than your average greenskin, as its flesh tone was a deeper green, almost grayish, and that coincided with the deep yellow-brown of its eyes. The scraggly black hair fell over its bulbous features, shining with grease, even in the dim light. The stench of its breath as it chortled at him was the only thing he’d experienced that made its normal body odor seem flowery by comparison.

  His arms began to shake, while the bare biceps of the beast pulsed with worm-like veins. Finally his combat training took over, and he pivoted on one foot, slid the pommel of his sword down, and forced the monster’s blade to slide down and to his right. He countered with a jab toward the goblin’s torso, but the creature was blindingly fast with the heavy cleaver it wielded. Again there was the clang of steel while Hade’s wounded arm screamed in protest.

  He took a step back and the monster pressed. He could see the elf called Sprig to his right, fending off the blades of two smaller goblins. His movements were fluid and sure; the soldier didn’t doubt the greenskins would fall to his blade. Just the same, no help would be immediately forthcoming from that direction.

  Behind him he heard the clear voice of the princess bark something in her language that sounded to Hade as an insult, followed by a dark laughter. His frantic mind got the impression she must be enjoying the fight. He wished he could say the same.

  His monster swung a massive arm in a backhand that Hade partially blocked with his blade. The beast’s strength was great, however, and Hade’s sword merely clanged off of a metal bracer before a white explosion went off behind his eyes. He felt a tooth break free and punch through his lower lip as it fled his mouth. He staggered to his left and tried to spin away from the follow through he knew must be coming.

  Luck was with him, for the goblin had brought its cleaver up and over to chop down at where the man had been standing. Hade’s his quick footwork saved him, if just barely. The monster grunted in mild annoyance and turned to advance again.

  Hade came up with two hands on the hilt of his sword, anger and determination plain on his face. Blood oozed from his mouth, staining his beard the color of wet rust and he spit defiantly.

  The goblin grinned and waded in, cleaver held diagonally across its torso. As it closed the distance, it raised the crude blade over its head for another crushing stroke.

  Hade sidestepped, and even as the goblin realized its mistake and jerked its weapon low, Hade jabbed up through its torso, sinking eight inches of his steel it its kidney area before quickly yanking it free in a spurt of ichor. The beast howled in pain as the two moved past each other, but was quick to pivot and face the soldier as he gained solid footing. Its vomit-colored eyes narrowed.

  The two circled each other slowly, oblivious to the combat storming around them. Hade knew that each moment he could drag the fight out the blood loss would weaken his foe, but at the same time, he was concerned with the rest of the battle. The other figures of the immediate combat were merely indistinct forms wheeling through the mist.

  Hade rushed, the goblin leapt forward a little more sluggishly. Their blades crashed again, and Hade felt a chip fly from his edge. For a minute they exchanged blows; the goblin’s sheer ferocity was keeping the soldier’s better-aimed strikes at bay.

  Finally, after what seemed an eternity to Hade, he managed to slide his blade along the cleaver’s haft and dig into the back of the monster’s hand.

  It dropped its grip on the cleaver and tried to back away. It bumped into one of its comrades, and Hade stepped in to drive the point of his sword up th
rough its throat and out through the top of its skull.

  As the goblin shuddered, Hade quickly stepped back and pulled his sword into a close guard position, scanning around him. The behemoth dropped first to its knees, then pitched forward to the ground.

  Something bumped into Hade from the left and he whirled, feeling his blade clang against steel. Purple eyes met his and he realized his mistake. The princess and the soldier stepped back, blades lowering slightly.

  Hade flushed, and then shrugged. The princess, black blood spattered across her face, grinned.

  There was no time to enjoy the moment, as screams – panicked human screams – came to them from the center of town. They formed up with Brendle, Veld, and Sprig before trotting through the dissipating mist toward the sound.

  The town center was a study in chaos. In the time it had taken them to finish with their small group, the rest of the goblin raiding party had assailed the village. Men were doing their best against the marauders with old swords and farming tools.

  Hade could see the other group of rangers mixed with the men, and to his relief, it looked like they were trying to hold a united front against the monsters. There were a number of goblin corpses laying about, interspersed with dead men.

  The air was split with a howl of rage as Hade and his group charged the goblins from behind. He realized it came from the princess, and his spine tingled.

  She was a vision of martial beauty. Her golden hair found what errant rays of sun were starting to burn through the fog and sent them dancing. Her curved blade, moments ago slick with black blood, blazed with a white light.

  She outran the group by several meters and whipped her blade in a frenzy. She danced into the goblin rear ranks and out again; where she had been greenskins fell to quivering heaps.

  Hade and the others lay into the goblins as well, and when the humans realized what was happening, a ragged cheer went up and they redoubled their efforts.

  Between them, the men and elves made short work of the goblin force. There were several moments that followed where everyone just stood, soaked in blood, gasping the morning air as the sun worked through the last of the mist.