Send a spelling or grammar correction to: Tracy Johnson
Back to Empire on the HPe3000 Home Page
For his part Ragnar was as surprised as the goblins. He'd expected to be landing on a load of rock or with luck an empty wagonbed. His shoulder smacked into the head of a goblin, his legs fell across a handful of others. They became a bellowing, yeeking tangle. "Oofff! Wahhh! Get'off" and then "Eeeyahh!" as Ragnar launched one of the goblins into the air and out of the wagon.
Some of the little monsters had knives, but most only had spades or iron bars at hand. Their bows were wrapped in oilcloth and piled in the back of the wagon with the filled quivers of their short, black painted arrows. They had no swords or axes and wore no armor.
Ragnar had rolled to his knees, and found himself surrounded by the shrieking, terrified mob. One of the little beasts smashed him across the face with the edge of its spade. It left a gash across his cheek that bled slowly into his beard. Lashing out without thought or hesitation Ragnar chopped the goblin in two with his axe, the blade cutting through its waist and then splitting open the chest of another in the path of the cruel steel edge.
The small crush of goblins threw themselves at Ragnar. He found himself covered in the filthy swarm, hit with pry-bars, chopped at with spades, knifed, clawed and bitten. One was on the back of his neck, reaching out with thin arms to try and blind his eyes. He bit down on its arm, tossed another goblin clear of the wagon with his free hand and reached back to tear the feral beast from his shoulders.
A knife, rusty and jagged, scraped across the northman's hand. Slipping through the rings of his mail, a poniard stabbed him in the lower back, but barely made it through the padded vest he wore beneath.
Sweeping his blade back and forth cleared the goblins from around him. Ragnar slammed backwards and heard a satisfying crunch. "Get away you vermin." he shouted at them in the Cold Tongue.
They could not understand his words, but his meaning was as clear as the blood dripping from his blade. The corners of the wagonbed were not far enough for them. The goblins began to scramble, climbing upon one another to try and make it to the driver's bench and away from the mad human and his deadly axe.
***
"He follows the road." Emiel said aloud.
"He is an idiot." Ted replied. "Maybe he'll get himself killed and we can get away from here."
Emiel gave an angry glance at Ted, but said nothing.
They had run half-changed. Still man-like enough to wear clothes and boots, but with muscles stronger than any human's and spines more supple. Their backs were hunched and as they ran, they would drop to all fours from time to time.
Pangs of hunger gnawed at their bellies. They would stop and eat, digging into their packs filled with horsemeat, then run. The hunger would come on again and again as it always did when they let the beast-spirit free. Wounded, the spirit would heal them, but it needed fuel. Fuel for their great strength, fuel to mend flesh and bone, fuel to run faster than any man that ever lived. Their heavy packs lightened quickly and they knew that by morning they would need to hunt for food.
Miles of road were behind them. Though they kept to the rough and wild fields, they always stayed near the road. Emiel would dart back every so often, lower himself to the beaten path and sniff. The northman's spoor and tracks were easy to find.
"We gain on him." Emiel said to Ted as he made his way back over the low stone wall which bordered the road.
"He's got Rudd's own luck." Ted shook his head. "A patrol should have had him by now."
"Maybe." Emiel said thoughtfully. "The road is quiet. Besides our barbarian, there has been no traffic. With Hochoch fallen and the Duke's men across the river... no patrols on the road to Midwood..."
"Could it be abandoned?" asked Ted, interrupting.
"What? Abandoned?" Emiel looked at Ted as if just noticing he was there.
"Midwood." Ted supplied.
"That I wouldn't hold likely. It fords the Olvewater, and not a bridge still standing between it and the Dim Forest." said Emiel. "I think we will certainly find something in Midmeadow. Enough, time's wasting and I want to find that barbarian before his luck runs out."
* * *
(To Be Continued)