The doom of dragonback, p.3
The Doom of Dragonback, page 3
‘Goblins today,’ he told the blade. For a moment Skraffi thought he saw the rune dim in disappointment, but it might have just been a flicker of the candle in the lamp hanging from the ceiling.
He stepped back out as the others were assembling. Gabbik had hammer and shield, as did several others. There were also plenty of axes: bearded, double-handed, single-handed, long-handled and others. Fleinn, always a show-off, wielded two short swords. They were actually elven knives, taken by Fleinn’s father, Skraffi’s brother, as trophies during the fifth siege of Tor Alessi. Unfortunately Fleinn the Elder had died at the seventh siege of Tor Alessi when the younger had been just three years old.
‘No time to waste,’ announced Nakka, lifting up his axe to wave the group to follow. ‘Let’s go find Thorek and teach these grobi what we do with uninvited guests.’
There were fifteen dwarfs guarding the crack found by Stofrik Grimsson, and twice as many had squeezed through to keep watch from the goblin side of the hole. The Troggklads and Angboks added another twenty warriors to the party, which Gabbik considered more than enough for a goblin hunt.
‘Where’s Stofrik at?’ he asked, stepping up beside Nakka.
One of the Grimssons nodded towards the crack. ‘Having a look-see at those goblin tunnels, isn’t he.’
Gabbik detected a note of antipathy from the other dwarf and was not surprised; the Grimssons had been rival brewers to Awdhelga and there was always friction where business was concerned. That was by-the-by though. A missing dwarf was more important than past disagreements.
The triangular gap through which the goblins had entered was just about wide enough for a dwarf to pass through and about twice as high. There were rough tool marks on the outer edges – a rock slip that the grobi had widened themselves.
‘Weren’t nobody keeping guard?’ asked Fleinn. ‘Didn’t you hear owt?’
‘Reckon the cunning beggars waited ‘til we was working to start their chipping and digging,’ said the Grimsson dwarf.
Hammer held in front of him, shield sideways, Gabbik could just about get through the opening, his beard brushing against the scraped wall. The gap was only about three paces deep and opened into the remains of an old lava chamber, almost spherical, with more crudely hewn steps leading up to a tunnel on the far side.
The chamber showed signs of brief occupation by the goblins while they had conducted their excavations – piles of dung, discarded animal bones, a broken stone hammer. There was also a pile of mud and small stones scattered close to the opening – a poor attempt to block or mask the goblins’ escape route. Looking around, Gabbik spied Stofrik at the top of the steps, a lantern in hand as he peered into the goblin delvings. His beard was long and blond, tucked into a broad belt and hung with ancestor badges. He was wearing bronzed mail and carried a short-hafted axe that shone a dull green in the lamplight. The Grimsson thane turned as Gabbik softly called his name.
‘How-do, Gabbik?,’ said Stofrik. As Gabbik ascended, the other dwarf met him halfway, his place at the top taken by another of the Grimsson family. ‘Good of you to come. How many did you bring?’
‘Twenty of us. I reckon that’s as many as we’ll need without kicking up too much of a fuss.’
Stofrik looked past as more dwarfs squeezed through the hole, one after the other, until the lava chamber was almost filled with bristling beards, mail and round shields.
‘Reckon as you’d be right, Gabbik. Can’t have been too many of them – forty or fifty, them that was attacked told me. Left about a dozen of dead behind too.’
‘Lead on,’ said Gabbik.
The top of the narrow steps broke out into another lava chamber, about three times as big as the first, and there were several holes in the walls where the goblins had tunnelled in and out. The dwarfs were not renowned for their stealth, but they were patient, and with slow, quiet treads Stofrik and Gabbik led the dwarfs into the next cave, axe and hammer at the ready. Another lamp was brought in, shielded with smoked glass to stop too much light escaping, and the expedition spread out across the chamber, ten or so dwarfs to each hole.
Stofrik moved from hole to hole, listening and sniffing, bending down to inspect the floor at each opening. He went back three or four times each to two of the holes before making his decision.
‘Grobi spoor is strongest on this one.’ He crouched and pointed at scrape marks on the rock. ‘And these were made by a dwarf toecap if ever I’ve seen such a mark.’
‘They’re dragging him,’ said Gabbik. ‘Not carrying. Suggests he’s still alive.’
‘You know gobbos,’ said one of the Burlithroms, from whose ranks Thorek had been taken. Most were still in their mining gear, armed with picks, spades and heavy spikes rather than battleaxes and warhammers. The one who had spoken had a gold badge on his helm, marking him out as the shift overseer. His expression was grim, even for a dwarf. ‘They likes to torture their captives for a bit, like. Poor, poor Thorek.’
‘That’ll be bad for them then,’ said Stofrik. He jabbed a thumb to his chest. ‘They didn’t reckon on one of Ekrund’s best goblin hunters being on hand, did they? Thorek might get his toes burned and maybe lose a finger or two, but least he’ll live. Let’s get a shifty on, no point hanging around.’
The goblin hole, like the crack in the wall, was barely wide enough for the dwarfs to pass, so that they had to unburden themselves of their shields and weapons and pass them through before they could fit. Fortunately the goblins had been in something of a hurry, it seemed, and had not bothered posting guards.
The cavern beyond was almost as big as a dwarf hall, filled with stalactites; the stalagmites had mostly been broken and lay in pieces across the shallow bowl of the floor.
‘Look here,’ said Stofrik, crouching next to the stump of a rocky upthrust. In the light of the goblin hunter’s lamp Gabbik saw something splashed on the stone. ‘Blood. Goblin blood. I think our Thorek gave someone a bit of a kicking.’
‘Good on ‘im,’ muttered someone behind Gabbik.
Following Stofrik, the dwarfs advanced between the broken stalagmites, heading left along the length of the cavern. The goblin hunter shielded his lantern, revealing dim light coming from half a dozen tunnels at the far end of the cave. By far the brightest was also the largest, off to the right a little. As the dwarfs stopped to look and quiet descended, Gabbik heard the echo of distant noise: shouting, cackling and singing.
‘’Avin’ themselves a right ol’ party, the spiteful beggars,’ snarled one of the Burlithroms. There were growls and snorts of agreement and Gabbik felt a general movement around him as the family of the missing dwarf surged towards the openings by unspoken consent.
‘Here now, don’t be getting too anxious for a fight, lads,’ warned Gabbik. He could tell that their blood was up, but a hothead in battle was often the first to fall. He wanted to know he could depend on the dwarf whose shield was at his back. ‘We done this before, don’t all go rushing in willy-nilly.’
‘Gabbik’s right,’ said Stofrik. Gabbik knew he was right, and felt a bit offended that Stofrik thought fit to defend his judgement. He let it pass – the Grimssons were closer to the Burlithroms after all.
‘If they got wind of us, they may kill Thorek,’ the other thane continued. ‘And even if they don’t, they’d scatter like elves in a strong wind if they got the chance. No, we do this proper and then everybody’s safer.’
Cooler heads were prevailing and Gabbik took the chorus of grumbles and whispers as acquiescence. He caught the eye of Fleinn and took the other dwarf to Stofrik.
‘Fleinn here has got a good eye and ear for the tunnels,’ said Gabbik. ‘What say him and a few lads head up one of them side passages and see if they can cut off the goblins’ exit?’
‘Solid plan,’ said Stofrik. He looked Fleinn up and down. ‘You up to it, lad?’
‘I’m up for it.’ Fleinn flourished his elven blades and grinned.
‘You look it,’ said Stofrik.
He said the names of a handful of Burlithroms and Grimssons, and a party assembled around Fleinn. After a few more words not to do anything rash they were sent on their way, advancing quietly down two of the smaller tunnels.
‘We’ll give them a little bit of time to get in position,’ said Stofrik.
‘What say you to a quick look at what’s ahead?’ said Gabbik. ‘Just a brief scout, maybe?’
‘Aye, but keep it quiet.’
The thought that he might be anything but quiet irritated Gabbik but again he thought it better not to raise the issue. Stofrik had obviously appointed himself expedition leader and there was nothing to be gained by starting an argument just a pebble’s throw from a goblin lair. Instead Gabbik chose his two quietest lads – Horgir and Vifi – and took them up to the widest of the openings.
The tunnel looked like an old underground riverbed, perhaps dammed upstream by one of the Ekrund weirs or other waterworks. It dropped down steeply, following a course of limestone – the same that formed the impressive floor and ceiling spires of the cavern behind.
The light was exceptionally faint and inconstant, distant flames Gabbik thought, but it was enough for the trio of dwarfs to navigate the irregular twists and turns of the natural passage. The ancient river had worn everything smooth, though in a few of the steeper stretches steps had been carved or foot- and hand-holds fashioned from thick wooden nails. The dwarfs were sure enough on their feet to negotiate these parts without too much effort and it was not long before the light had brightened considerably and the smell of smoke from a bonfire of dried dung started clogging Gabbik’s nostrils.
The noise from the goblins was louder and had become a more unified high-pitched chanting, interspersed with whoops and shrill laughter. Now and then Gabbik caught a dwarf voice, swiftly drowned by hideous shrieks and hooting cries.
A flicker of shadow at a bend ahead caused the dwarfs to stop. It was indistinct but Gabbik could see the outline of a fur-lined helmet and a jagged sword. He couldn’t see the goblin itself and the tunnel curved in such a way that there would be no way of looking until they were right on top of the sentry.
They waited a while longer, during which the vague shadow appeared to lift a long-necked bottle to its lips and they heard the glug of emptying liquid. Gabbik signalled to Vifi, who brought out a bronze catapult from inside his hauberk. He fetched forth a sphere of lead shot from a pouch at his belt, about the size of a thumbnail, and placed it in the leather cup of the slingshot. Giving a thumbs up to Gabbik, Vifi took a few steps further up the tunnel before crouching down against the wall. He pulled back the shot and then looked back to nod.
Gabbik scraped his heel across the floor of the tunnel. The sound reverberated for a moment and was answered by a murmur of confusion from ahead. He heard the noise of the bottle being dropped, followed by the flap of bare feet on stone. A moment later a thin green face with sharp, prominent teeth and a pointed nose poked around the sharp bend. Its helmet was askew, tufts of mangy fur falling from the brim.
Vifi let fly his shot. The lead ball smacked into the goblin’s left eye, snapping back the creature’s head in a spray of blood. The goblin toppled, slumping against the side of the tunnel. Gabbik winced as the helmet fell off with a clatter, rolling in circles on the floor for several heartbeats before coming to rest against the dead goblin’s foot.
Horgir was already dashing ahead, axe in hand. He reached the bend and slowed, sliding his shield in front. Gabbik moved alongside Vifi as Horgir disappeared.
The other dwarf reappeared a few moments later and gave a thumbs up. He hunkered down in the curve of the tunnel, dragging the corpse around the bend, while Gabbik and Vifi advanced to join him.
Coming around the bend, Gabbik was afforded a view down the tunnel through an opening that quickly widened into another cavern. As far as he could judge this was even larger than the last one, lit by flames and filled with smoke from more than one fire. He couldn’t see much of the goblins themselves, but their jerky shadows played across the wall of the tunnel. There were a handful more of the small greenskins right at the tunnel mouth. Gabbik assumed they were meant to be keeping watch, but their attention had been drawn to the fun being had inside the cave.
Vifi raised his catapult but Gabbik laid his hand on the younger dwarf’s arm and shook his head. He gestured back down the tunnel. Horgir set off with Vifi close behind. Gabbik stayed for a little while longer trying to guess the number of goblins, but it was impossible to tell; they were moving around so much and dancing that it could have been a dozen or a gross.
Irritated that he did not have more to take back to Stofrik, Gabbik was tempted to try to get a little closer. Then his own words about rashness came back to him and he changed his mind, turning back down the tunnel towards the others.
He knew that he was regarded by some of the other Angboks as the simple, sensible one of the clan, but he didn’t mind at all. Those that mattered – the king and the thanes of other clans – respected the Angboks because of Gabbik’s calm temperament and predictability. Being dependable was a virtue to be coveted. It was a cool manner and steady hand that had guided the Angboks through the tough times since Awdhelga’s death and it would be the same – and a seam of gold! – that would continue to steer the clan to new heights of security and prosperity.
Gabbik thought about his father as he returned to the main group, wishing that Skraffi had been more responsible since Awdhelga had passed into the Halls of the Ancestors. Instead Gabbik had been left to shoulder the burden of heading the family alone. Friedra was a great support – diligent in her attention to domestic matters but rarely concerned with wider clan goings-on – but Haldora was becoming more and more like her grandmother, and that meant trouble ahead.
He thought of the way the Burlithroms and Grimssons had listened to Stofrik without question and wished he commanded such respect. There was no reason he should not. He was thane, and Vice-Treasurer of the Ekrund Miners’ Welfare and Social Society – soon to be Treasurer Elect after the next quarterly general assembly, he hoped – and not short of years. There was just something in the Angbok bloodline that made them a bit mouthy and defiant, even amongst themselves and even when others were looking.
With such despondent thoughts, Gabbik reached the other cave to find that Vifi and Horgir had brought the rest of the dwarfs to the tunnel entrance. He exchanged a glance with Stofrik, sharing a moment in which they both acknowledged the fight about to come and the possible consequences. Gabbik was no war leader, but he had been on his fair share of goblin hunts.
‘Let’s do this,’ he said. A few of the Angboks and Troggklads started forward and then faltered as the rest of the dwarfs stayed where they were.
‘For Thorek,’ said Stofrik, eliciting grunts and nods of acknowledgement from his clansdwarfs. They surged up towards the tunnel, almost pushing aside Gabbik.
‘Don’t fret, lad.’ Skraffi gave Gabbik an encouraging nudge with his elbow as he came down the sloped tunnel entrance. ‘It’s their dwarf in there; they’re looking to each other is all. We’re not here to make names for ourselves, just to get Thorek out.’
Gabbik nodded and led his contingent after the Grimssons and Burlithroms with a lighter heart than a moment earlier. Sometimes, despite all of his vices and shortcomings, Skraffi knew just the right thing to say.
Now that their ire had been roused and the call to battle had been made – albeit softly spoken at the time – the dwarfs boiled along the tunnel accompanied by a grumbling and swearing akin to the growing noise of a rockfall that starts with a few pebbles rattling and ends with thunderous destruction.
The din of the dwarfs’ progress made no difference – the goblins guarding the approach heard nothing over the clamour of their own kind until the first of the Grimssons and Burlithroms were round the bend and heading right at them. Slingstones and catapult bullets whirred along the tunnel, felling half the sentries before they had turned their heads. The warning squawks and shrieks of the survivors were lost amidst the strident celebrations going on in the chamber beyond them.
Bursting into the main chamber with the others, Gabbik found himself in a huge cavern almost as large as the Grand Hall of Ekrund, though the ceiling was far lower. Limestone columns linked rocky floor and ceiling, and the walls were lined with mineral deposits that glittered in the light of two immense fires.
The chamber seethed with goblins – a mass of greenskins hooded and cloaked in black, all squirming and pushing in a crowd around a bloodied figure tied to a frame between the fires – Thorek. Gabbik had no time for further exploration as the goblins reacted to the death cries of the sentries and turned towards the dwarfs.
Red eyes gleamed and dozens of wickedly serrated and curved blades glittered as the grobi pulled out their knives and swords; fangs were bared, and snarls and screeches of hatred issued from the crowd. There were probably a hundred goblins, perhaps more. The dwarfs halted their charge as the last of them surged into the cavern. Stofrik was calling his clansdwarfs to order and Gabbik followed, shouting for the Angboks and Troggklads to form a line. The oldest dwarfs fell into place quickly, the younger ones forming ranks behind them as the green-skinned horde poured out from the light of the fires towards them.
Arrows cut through the fire gleam, loosed by goblins with short bows sneaking between the rock columns. Here and there a crossbow twanged in reply. Skraffi readied a throwing axe to Gabbik’s right while Vifi and others unleashed lead from their catapults and the air buzzed with slingshot. Snarling and yapping, the goblins came on, a sea of green and black in the orange glow.
When the goblins were no more than twenty paces away Skraffi hurled the first of his throwing axes. Its blade caught the light as it spun end-over-end and disappeared beneath the hood of an oncoming greenskin. The goblin was thrown into the creature behind by the force of the impact and several more tripped over the corpses in their mad dash to attack. The old dwarf’s second axe buried in the chest of another goblin, causing similar chaos amongst the green-skinned mob.
