The wind was whispering against the mountainside high overhead. A few pebbles rolled down with a patter. Was there some animal there? A lynx?
The sun shone through a thick veil of fog, cold and pale. It had dawned a couple of hours ago, and the rocky ground was white and slippery with freshly fallen snow. When the group of mercenaries had woken up at the crack of dawn, there had been no sight of Ashaia. Perhaps some important, secret mission had forced the Spymistress to change her plans during the night – or perhaps she had indeed crumbled into dust with the first ray of sunlight, as she had herself japed the day before. Whatever the reason, there had been no time to go searching for her.
The Dawners marched ahead as fast as they could. Across the great stone bridge, then up a mountain road meandering through valleys and ravines and finally rising against the mountainside. Suddenly their way was blocked by a great gate of massive metal bars built between two sides of a ravine.
”Dwarf security, huh?” Cutwil mused.
”How far is it?” Askelin sighed breathlessly as he scaled the mountain in the rear of the group. ”Surely we're going the right way...” He fell silent as the giant metal gate suddenly rose up ahead, barred and sealed shut tightly. He shook his head slowly. ”It's as if they were anticipating our arrival, what say you?”
Hellrien tried to shake the bars. They wouldn’t budge.
”I wonder if we're in the right place?” she wondered, confused. Surely Rothgar would have said something if the way to Orodost was sealed shut. ”There has to be an easier way to get in.”
”I don’t know”, Cutwil shrugged, ”maybe we can just squeeze in? If that doesn't work, the goblins will let us pass.”
Hellrien didn’t think so, but she tried to squeeze her shoulder through the bars. She shook her head. Perhaps a hobbit could have squeezed in through those bars. A severely malnourished, naked hobbit greased with butter. But not Hellrien, nor anyone else of their group for that matter.
”Well I'm out of ideas...” said Askelin. ”Maybe we could ask for directions?”
”Indeed!” Cutwil agreed. ”You know, we could just like, attempt to uh... yeah I've no idea.”
”You stupid boy”, said Ealstan, glaring at Askelin. He walked down the path they had climbed until he could see a grand valley opening before him and pointed his finger westward, at the grand fortress rising up against the mountains in the distance. ”What about that?”
Hellrien produced the map Rothgar had drawn, unfolded the wrinkled, torn piece of parchment and studied it a while. Rothgar might have been talented in many things, but drawing wasn’t one of them. Hellrien turned the map upside down in her hands, trying to make sense of the lines and markings. Could she have read it wrong – taken a wrong turn somewhere?
”Well, this way is blocked. Let's head back and try the the other fortress.”
”Maybe we've shoulda brought horses…” Cutwil muttered, tilting his head.
The company started heading back the steeply descending road. The sun was starting to reach it’s zenith. Hellrien walked as briskly as she could. Her lungs worked rigorously. She tried to form plans as she walked. When they reached the fortress – what then? How would they get past the goblins? How many there were? How would they find the entrance to the ancient Dourhand caverns? What would await them there? She started to take notice of their surroundings as they walked.
”I see fires lit in the distance”, said Askelin. ”Let us hope they are not goblin camps.”
Hellrien stopped suddenly. She had seen some movement behind a bush down the path they were walking, maybe a hundred yards away. She squinted her eyes. There it was again… a bald, pointy-eared, greenish head, cowering behind the bush, trying to find shelter from the sunlight. She didn’t think the creature had seen them.
”There’s one right over there”, she said in a low voice, pointing at the bush. Askelin drew his sword and cricked his neck from left to right.
”We shall see to dispatch that creature very swiftly, Hellrien!”
”Who wants to draw the first blood?”
Cutwil stared at the goblin in the distance. ”I mean”, he said, tilting his head, ”maybe we could just avoid him?”
Ealstan stood still, arms crossed and a distinctly bored expression on his face. Arindiis took a step back, hovering her hands over the axes hanging from her hips. Askelin stared at Cutwil with a blank and stern expression.
”Avoid it?” he said. ”Are you a chicken?! It's just one goblin. Come! Show us your sharp aim, you have a crossbow on you, if I were to rush it the bugger would run away screaming, might alert more of them. Hit it right between his eyes!”
Hellrien detached her bow from her back and nocked an arrow. ”Perhaps I'll just go on and shoot it then”, she said, aimed at the creature and released the arrow. It hit the goblin squarely on the neck, making it fall flat on it’s face.
”I didn't want to waste an arrow unless we need it, but very we-”, said Cutwil, ”and nevermind…”
”Let’s keep moving”, Hellrien said.
”Mhrm”, Askelin grunted. ”Well you still owe me at least one goblin head before tonight is over.”
”One goblin head, fair enough”, said Cutwil.
”And the rest, mate. Just one goblin isn't going earn you your pay. Let's make a game out of it, no?”
”A tally! Whoever kills the most buys a round.”
”Nay, whoever kills the least.”
”Yeah, that's what I meant.”
”Whoever keeps yapping buys the first round!” Ealstan grumbled.
”Mhrm…” Askelin grunted.
The mercenaries continued their journey through the valley as the sun passed the zenith and started it’s slow descent towards the serrated mountain range in the west. The sun was already kissing the highest mountaintops when the company spotted a goblin camp half-hidden behind coniferous trees, nestled against steep mountainside. Steaming mist was floating in deep ravines. Further ahead a massive stairway carved into the rock rose against the mountainside towards the sky, as far as their eyes could see.
High, high overhead, like three small black stars, three hendrevail circled in the deep blue sky.
”This looks more like it”, Hellrien said. ”What do you want to do next?”
”Claim we did him in, go back to the Shire saying mission accomplished?” Ealstan crossed his arms. ”No, that wouldn't do. Try bribing the goblins to 'and the bugger over?”
”Forsooth!” Cutwil exclaimed, stroking his chin. ”A goblin camp near the utmost important thing we are searching for. Hmm.”
”We can probably avoid the camp if we want to take a closer look at those stairs first”, Hellrien suggested. ”Unless you want to kill those goblins first? There's only three of them there. Maybe take one as a prisoner, for interrogation?”
”Bribing goblins?” Askelin murmured, adjusting his scarf lazily. ”Nay, intimidating them works best, they are cowardly creatures. If they don't hand over this dwarf fellow, we slaughter all of them, no questions asked.”
”Indeed”, Cutwil agreed.
”It is simple logic and the only way these wretches can understand.”
”Which ever takes your fancy”, Ealstan shrugged.
”So let our blades do the talking then.”
”And crossbow”, Cutwil added.
”I say destroy them”, Arindiis growled, cracking her knuckles.
”I agree, dear”, Askelin nodded. ”Let at ’em!”
”Alright, let’s do it then”, said Hellrien.
Arindiis picked up her axes, swinging them down with her strong arms. She flexed her muscles as she adjusted her offensive position. The mercenaries circled closer to the goblin camp, utilizing the cover of the trees surrounding the plain where the goblins had set up their camp. Hellrien spotted a fourth creature near the camp, crouching behind the shade of the trees to take cover from the sun. Cutwil looked at the trees, then to the hill, and finally at the goblins on the flat beneath them. The hill on the west side cast a long bluish shadow to the plain.
”Hmm”, said Cutwil ponderously. ”I do wonder where goblins come from. Maybe they are deformed dwarves or something? Who knows. I'll have to look into that...”
”They came from the mystical land of no one gives an arse”, Ealstan drawled, drawing his axe. ”Just kill the buggers.”
Askelin was the first to act, rushing the camp aggressively. He fell upon them swiftly, striking the lookout from the cover of the shadows, felling the scrawny creature with a quick slash to the neck. It fell to the ground, twitching and frothing up blood. Ealstan and Hellrien charged after him. Cutwil pulled out his crossbow, loaded a bolt and simply walked towards them, along with Arindiis who seemed unsure what to do. The other goblins, startled by the death of their comrade and the charging mercenaries, began screaming hellishly and running towards the hills. They were wretched creatures, small in stature and afflicted with various skin diseases and deformations. Hellrien had no doubt that a single bite from those rotten, filed teeth would make the victim’s flesh fester and rot away.
”Tsk-tsk-tsk”, Cutwil murmured, shaking his head. ”No running now, little deformed dwarves.” He aimed for the chest of one who was running straight at him, panicked and aimlessly like a headless chicken. His aim struck true and the goblin tumbled down on his back and rolled downhill. Askelin and Ealstan ran after the two remaining goblins who were running themselves into a corner.
”They are not deformed dwarves”, Arindiis told Cutwil. ”They are in Bree as well. There are no dwarves in Chetwood.”
”Well, what are they? Imps of something greater, I presume. But they'll be imps towards the scavengers soon, once we're through.”
The goblins reached the cliffside and, realizing there was nowhere for them to run or hide, turned around to face their pursuers. Askelin and Ealstan were at them in the same instant. Ealstan chopped the other one down with the axe that was twice as long as his victim was tall. Askelin blocked a desperate swing with his shield and slammed it into the goblin’s head in retaliation. Shouting viciously, he clobbered the wretched creature over and over to the head with his shield until the head caved in.
”Have it!!” He kicked the dead goblin once more to the side and growled: ”I hate them…”
”Well, that was easy”, Cutwil remarked.
”Nicely done”, Arindiis hummed to the mercenaries, but mostly Askelin.
”Thank you, dear”, he responded. ”I like to do you proud.”
Hellrien pointed to the stairway ahead of them. ”I guess those stairs lead to Orodost”, she said. ”I can't see what's up there. We need to climb a bit.”
”Well, let's be off up them then”, said Ealstan.
The mercenaries walked to the root of the stairs. The stairway climbed up the mountainside and it was cut by several landings, so the top of the stairs was out of the range of their vision.
”Forsooth!” Cutwil exclaimed, craning his neck. ”We've got to climb indeed!”
The five mercenaries stood there for a moment, a little unsure how to proceed. Anything could await them up there.
”Well”, said Cutwil, looked around and started climbing the stairs, crossbow at the ready. The others followed a little behind him. Askelin placed his hand on Arin’s wrists and glanced at her seriously.
”Keep your axes out, you're going to need them!”
When they arrived at the first landing of the stairs, the gate of the city appeared, guarded by two goblins on each side. Cutwil didn’t even slow down but kept climbing the stairs.
”What's he doing?” Hellrien whispered tensely. ”Can't he see there's two guards by the gate?”
Cutwil stopped by a pillar on the right side, within crossbow’s range of the goblins, and looked down at the others on the landing. The goblin guards didn’t react in any way. Either they hadn’t seen them, or they mistook them for their own kind. Goblins could see in almost complete darkness, but their eyesight was horrible in broad daylight.
”Eh, he’ll be fine”, Ealstan shrugged. ”Wait… weren't we supposed to take one goblin alive…?”
Too late for that now, Hellrien thought. ”They need to be dispatched simultaneously and quickly, or we'll have them all on our case”, she said.
”Well you and the bugger further up have the bows.”
”There will be plenty more of them as we breach this stronghold”, Askelin predicted, looking at Hellrien. ”You have skill with the bow, head up beside Cutwil, take the one on the left.”
Hellrien nodded and climbed up higher, taking a position by the pillar opposite of Cutwil to his left and nocked her bow. She took a good aim at the goblin on the left.
”Kill ’em both?” Cutwil asked, knelt down and loaded another bolt to his crossbow.
”At the count of three? One... two... three!”
Cutwil aimed at the head of the goblin to the right, releasing both bolts simultaneously. Blood rushed out like a steady stream of ale from a keg. The goblin on the left gurgled, fell back and writhed on the floor. Hellrien climbed the stairs and arrived to a platform. There was a cart there, some crates and another set of stairs to her left kept climbing up the mountainside.
”The coast is clear, nothing here”, she whispered. ”Most of them are sleeping during daytime, so we should only encounter a few guards at most. Maybe none at all at this point. But walk... very... quietly!”
Askelin came up behind Hellrien, peering uncertainly around the barriers. ”Seems clear”, he said. ”Onwards!”
Hellrien led the group to the ascending staircase to their left. She sneaked up, leaning against the wall, and arrived to another level. She didn’t see anyone there, but Askelin spotted a stray goblin pinned against the ledge. Askelin tackled the fiend and literally threw it off the mountain to it’s death.
Another staircase kept ascending along the mountainside. Hellrien climbed it and arrived to another level with a crude tent pitched close to the stairs. She could hear a snoring sound coming from the tent. She lifted a finger across her lips and motioned the others to stay quiet as she circled the tent. There was a creature inside, snoring with it’s mouth open. It smelled something and stirred awake, staring at Hellrien. She was the last thing the creature ever saw, as an arrow to it’s throat ended it’s miserable life with a splutter of blood. There was yet another staircase leading even higher. Hellrien motioned for the others to follow her. They had come too far to retreat now.
The stairs led to another platform and another set of stairs. Askelin had resigned himself to the rear of the group to make sure no goblins would jump on them from behind.
The final set of stairs led Hellrien to a high ground, a wide shelve on the mountainside growing tall grass and thick bushes. Four goblins were snoozing along the path leading up to a cave behind a growth of bushes. There was something moving behind the bushes. Hellrien only saw a glance of the creature before it disappeared behind a rock face.
”What is that?” she whispered. ”Could it be a dwarf?”
Ealstan shrugged. ”Could be.”
”Where?” Arindiis narrowed her eyes.
”Behind that bush, right over there. Whatever it is, it doesn't look like a goblin. And it seems to be wearing black.”
”Well”, Cutwil said, ”it’s not a goblin, it’s wearing black, it’s in a bush. Yep, has to be him.”
”Just give the word and we can have his head and be done with it!” said Askelin.
”Maybe it's some other rotund height-challenged fellow with horrendous fashion choices”, Ealstan muttered.
”So a dwarf?”
”Well, from his description, he doesn't seem like a dwarf, but we'll see”, Cutwil pondered.
”But there's four goblins out here too”, Hellrien said. ”We're going to get attacked by them all if we charge. Are we good with that?”
Nobody said anything to that.
”So... just charge, then?” Hellrien asked after a while.
”Yeah, sure”, Cutwil said indifferently, ”I'll stay back and shoot and do what I do.”
Arindiis swung her axes to stretch her weary arms. She had begun shaking from the cold and the rush of excitement.
”Us who have bows or crossbows, take down two and then charge”, Hellrien said, nocking her bow and taking an aim. ”One... two... charge!”
Cutwil’s bolt killed the goblin closest to them, while Hellrien’s arrow was lodged on the chest of the one further ahead. Ealstan and Askelin rushed to meet the remaining goblins head on. Askelin swung his swords and yelled in a calamity of rage. The screams woke up the goblins, who barely had the time to figure out what was happening, let alone react to it properly. Hellrien put away her bow, drew her swords and rushed after Ealstan and Askelin. Arindiis followed too, though slower, taking the flank. Cutwil stayed put with his crossbow. The remaining goblins met their quick ends by Askelin’s and Ealstan’s weapons.
As the mercenaries rushed closer they could see that the track leading through the wide mountain ledge they were on made a steep turn right after the bush and continued through a gate leading to a cave on the side of the mountain. By the gate, a gigantic dwarf dressed all in black was getting up to his feet, taken aback by surprise. Hellrien felt like the dwarf’s black, glowing eyes penetrated straight through her. She realized now that all the descriptions of the dwarf she had heard before had been lacking in detail. Nobody had mentioned the bestial power emanating from him, the almost blue-black color of his beard, brows like raven’s wings nor the crag-like, stern mouth in the midst of the bushy beard. He was dressed in worn leather trousers, boots and leather armor. He let out an enraged howl and charged at Askelin, who raised his shield to defense and snarled:
”Come at me you oversized mutt! We fight!”
Ealstan moved forward to aid Askelin, flanking around the dwarf while he was occupied. The dwarf swung his axe with a fierce blow towards Askelin’s head, trying to remove it. Ealstan attacked the dwarf from the side at the same time. Askelin dodged the swing with his swift reflexes and retaliated with a shield bash. Moving at unnatural speed, the dwarf managed to fend off Ealstan’s axe but wasn’t able to dodge Askelin’s shield bash at the same time and stumbled a step back, momentarily stunned.
”Get out of the way!” Arindiis suddenly yelled and threw her axes to her side as she charged the enemy. Halfway there she suddenly seemed to grow in size in all directions and sprout brown hair as she went from two legs onto four. Hellrien stared. The transformation happened in a blink of an eye, almost too fast for the mind to comprehend what was happening before it. Hellrien remembered Aaverie, the mysterious, bad-tempered Beorning woman from The Sworn Brotherhood. But during all these weeks they had spent together on this trip Hellrien had never once suspected Arindiis of being one of the skin-changers. The large, rugged shape let out a deep, threatening roar as it approached the combatants with terrifying speed. Askelin jumped out of the way, drawing his shield up to the defense while he kept an eye on his ferocious companion.
”Finish the job!” he yelled.
The dwarf howled with rage and fear as the beast approached him. Vicious to the end, he dropped his axe and crouched down to meet the bear head on, with his thumbs extended, trying to reach Arin-bear’s vulnerable eyes. Scythe-like, darkened claws flashed in the air as the bear tried to reach the dwarf to topple him down. Askelin stabbed his sword firmly into the dwarf’s left leg, spilling blood. Surprised, the dwarf fell backwards on the ground, still roaring with fury, still trying to claw or punch at anything he could get his hands on. The bear pinned the flailing hands onto the ground, snarling and moving closer to his neck, revealing her razor-sharp fangs. She roared, as if uncertain what to do. But the dwarf still wouldn’t give up. Jerking his head, he head-butted Arin-bear on the nose. Slightly dazed, she raised her head up, then suddenly clasped her teeth around the dwarf’s neck. The dwarf’s roar turned into gurgling as red blood sprouted from the ragged wounds in every direction. Askelin calmly walked over to the dwarf and looked down at it with scornful eyes as he put his sword on the dwarf’s head. The last thing the dwarf saw was Askelin’s still and scarred face and fiery eyes, and the dark shade of blue as his sword shimmered with the last light of the red, setting sun. The skin of his face turned pallid and white as the lights of his eyes went out. Askelin stood there for a long time, watching the remains of the black-hearted dwarf.
”Good work, Arindiis”, he finally murmured. ”You do me proud.”
”The hobbits said they wanted proof”, Hellrien said. ”Do we bring his head or what?”
”A single finger”, Cutwil suggested.
Arindiis gave the dead dwarf one last tug before dropping him and turning away and quietly circling around the company, looking for privacy as she transformed back to her human form.
”Hobbits will not want something so grim as a body part”, Ealstan said. ”His helm or some item of clothing.”
”Yeah, Cutwil”, said Askelin. ”And how will they know that the finger belongs to the dwarf? Take his head, bag it…”
”Perhaps a beard will do?” Hellrien pondered.
”The little folk are not grueseme, vindictive or vengeful”, Ealstan claimed sternly.
”I don’t know”, Cutwil said and nodded.
Arindiis appeared from behind Cutwil, blood-stained from head to toe, wiping her bloody mouth. ”They say blood is very healthy for you”, she purred and gave him a wry smirk. She licked her lips and smiled warmly, which created a gruesome contrast to her ferocious appearance.
”They must be right”, Cutwil chuckled awkwardly.
”Very well”, said Askelin. ”We shall search his possessions, see if he carries anything that may identify him. And his helmet is a good trophy to bring back to show our success.”
”You lot can decide what to do in the manner of proof”, Ealstan shook his head. ”I think I shall be off back to Noglond. Get some rest before we start the journey home on the morrow.”
”Beware, the goblins might be up by now! The sun is setting”, Hellrien warned.
”We left a trail of death in our wake, Hellrien”, said Askelin. ”Any goblin that comes our way will surely know their folly.”
”Aye, suppose a bear at least will send them running?”
Arindiis looked at Hellrien and smiled shyly. ”A-aye”, she muttered, fiddling with her messy hair.
The goblins didn’t give any trouble to the group of mercenaries as they made their way out of Orodost, leaving behind a literal trail of blood. The little fiends huddled in their tents and hiding holes, gleaming eyes staring at the backs of the departing warriors, too scared to make a sound. Death had visited their stomping grounds today.
Back on the bottom of the valley Hellrien turned around to stare at the grim silhouette of Orodost standing dark and oppressive against the sky. And high up in the sky the hendrevail flew, making wide circles as they kept descending lower and lower, lower and lower.
