Kaczmarek’s lantern cast a faint yellow glow into the white twilight around us, but left all too much concealed behind the shifting shapes and shadows. We drew together like a flock of heavily armed sheep, Kaczmarek stepping backwards with shuffling steps while I cast about rapidly, trying to count whatever was around us. Each time I caught the flash of a pair of eyes I’d freeze and stare at the spot, but invariably by then whatever it was would have slipped away.

I was just on the point of cursing the gathering dark when the magus said… something in Afamacian, of which I had no knowledge. Just as I turned my head to glance at him, he lifted his hand, an amethyst crystal half as long as my forearm caught between finger and thumb, and finished his sentence.

With an unsettling lack of sound, the crystal flared. The light it cast drove back the dark and dyed the mist purple, painting silhouettes in monochrome. From those silhouettes, it was easily guessed what surrounded us—provided we were prepared to forsake common sense and dive into the realms of fantasy. But willing or not, the glow of the magus’s crystal dragged us there nonetheless. My grip on my scimitar tightened.

Moving with graceless shifts and hops that somehow made no sound, twisted half-height figures broke from their seizure by the light. A disparate lot, no two members of the mob bore the same features, but all were clad in motley pelts of coarse hair and walked with the occasional help of one of their hands, vaulting off the ground like a man over a stile. Some clutched wooden clubs, handles wrapped in rags and ends carved with peculiar flanges or swollen and bound about with more rags—filled with rocks, no doubt, or if not, meant to take prisoners. I suppressed a shudder. Others bore steel axes, crude narrow-headed things of carved wood with a fragment of broken blade fastened at the end. Only one or two bore full knives or short swords.

“What are those?” The prince’s hushed whisper broke the silence that had fallen since the magus raised his light.

“Kobolds,” I answered grimly. I dearly wished I had a lit torch in hand. Rather, I wish I had both hands, I amended myself. And a lit torch.

“They can’t be bargained with?” His Highness’s voice was tight.

“No more than a pack of hyaenas, sir.” One of the shapes hopped forwards instead of sideways, and I immediately lunged, lashing out in a short feint. The kobold hopped back, hissing. “They’re only man-shaped.”

Every now and then the face of one of the kobolds would catch the light as though to drive home my point. All the sensory organs were there, eyes, ears, nose, mouth, but lumpy and misshapen. Placed wrongly, set askew. The predator’s eyes with a mean cast even when not catching the light.

The stories had them tormenting and feeding on the isolated in the dark. The mines were their favourite playgrounds. They’d knock on the walls of shafts, raising the miners’ hackles, then vanish as silently as they’d come. Tools would disappear only to reappear elsewhere, shaft props would be found hacked half through so the tunnel was on the brink of collapse, wells would be fouled. They would feed the terror until one day they grew bored of their play and drew it to a sudden, grisly, conclusion. Now these ones doubtless intended to circle us until the cold and dark overcame us, then pounce.

“We’d better keep moving, jäger,” I called, dispensing with quietness and timidity. “And hope they stay too cowardly to attack until we give up. I don’t know where we can stop, but not here.”

She hesitated for a long moment. “Alright, if you say so.” With a click of her tongue, she started leading her horses forward. I marvelled for a moment at that. Though one was almost rolling its eyes in terror, neither had so much as made to bolt. The ones I, the prince, and the magus were leading were about as steady. It was incredible.

“How long will that light last, magus?” She called, not looking back. “I thought you couldn’t do magic.”

“As long as it need to,” Alemayehu said. “In the world unformed is it different; stranger. No rule.” The light shifted—presumably he had lifted the crystal higher.

I dared not spare a glance at him. My eyes were still darting from shadow to shadow, waiting for one to step out of line again. I felt like a bent young sapling, about to snap back at the slightest disturbance. My soldier’s discipline warred with the urge to dart out and strike.

We picked our way across the rocks through a silence so thick I swore I could feel it dragging at my cloak, no sound betraying the kobolds around us except the occasional drag of wood or metal on stone. If we had been slowed by fatigue and cold before, our pace now was glacial. The fire in my blood somehow never quite made it to the skin, leaving me hot as a furnace inside and sweating while my fingers still felt fit to fall off.

Beside me, the prince stumbled. In an instant, one of the kobolds was out of the mists and in the glow of the mage’s artefact, club raised high. It was a miserable thing, in the light. Broad-chested, its arms hung to the knees of its bandy legs—or would, if one weren’t drawing back for a blow.

I didn’t give the strike a chance to fall, my tension uncoiling smoothly and terribly swiftly as the humming of my scimitar’s blade through the air carved the silence in two. With uncanny speed, the creature launched backwards off its free hand, its own feet finding purchase where mine slipped on rocks that tumbled loose. The tip of my sword whipped through a matted string of hair under its arm, but no more. Chastised but unrepentant, the kobold slipped back into the mist, only those hunter’s eyes betraying its presence.

I clicked my tongue in annoyance as I recovered.

“Can’t we use the flintlocks, Schreiner?” His Highness got out, through teeth gritted against the cold.

“The noise, sir,” I said into the mist. “I fear what it might draw.”

“It can’t be worse than this, man,” he pointed out. “We can’t go on.”

He’s right, I thought, and before hesitation could set in I seized on the decision. “Jäger!” I called, dropping my scimitar to hang from its lanyard while I unslung my arquebus. “Fire at will.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice!” Kaczmarek shouted back. A bare second later, the muzzle flash and the piercing crack of her arquebus shattered the night. The echoes rolled off the mountains like thunder, dragging out for long seconds while the heavy odour of powdersmoke mixed with the damp in the air like a smothering, sulphurous blanket. I had scarcely moved my own gun.

As the echoes of the gunshot died, the kobolds began to scream. Short, hollow sounds, like an overblown flute—or a broken bass organ pipe. Strangely discordant sounds, never quite in time with each other nor in tune, a war chant with neither rhythm nor cadence. I brushed the distraction to the back of my mind as I brought my arquebus to full cock and freed my left hand from its sling, gritting my teeth against the ache as I moved it.

Supporting the barrel with only the first two fingers moving at my command proved harder than I expected, and I eventually had to settled for pinching it between fingers and thumb and praying it would be enough. The eyes in the mist were moving faster now, running around us in circles like a demented carnival of line dancers. I picked one as it came into view past Kaczmarek and twisted to follow it with the barrel, squinting past the breechblock and muttering a prayer. The arquebus barked, its hoarse cry rolling off the mountains like the roaring of the Immer in flood, and the pair of eyes vanished. I hastily threw the arquebus back over my shoulder, fumbling with icy fingers for the hilt of my sword.

Behind me, Alemayehu grunted. “They throwing rock!” He shouted, his Hochsprache falling apart under the pressure. A moment later one struck my own left flank, mercifully bled of its impact by my rain-heavy cloak. The jäger cursed ahead of me as well as she tried to reload her arquebus while ducking stones.

Then the rocks fell out of my mind as one of the kobolds hurtled towards me out of the dark, hooting and grunting. It swung its club in a broad horizontal sweep at my bad arm, but I made a swift counter-thrust at its arm. It danced back as the one before had, but instead of fading into the mist it redoubled its assault, club arcing back around and above its head in a downward blow I had to catch at the base of my blade. The impact nearly jarred the sword from my hand, but then I had the advantage of size and raised my hand, bearing down on the club and driving the end of my scimitar toward its face. This time it had no footing to retreat, and I struck true, tipping it backwards and setting it reeling and trying to staunch the bleeding.

“Behind you!” The prince cried, and I twisted just in time for the axe to strike my shoulder instead of the back of my neck. The blade, crude and broken as it was, fouled in the folds of my cloak and the kobold dropped it, leaping forward in a tackle instead. My knee hit its head with all the elegance of a sack of bricks, but with one leg raised I hadn’t the balance to stay standing against the weight and we both went down. I hammered at it with the hilt of my sword while it vainly scrabbled for a hold on my neck. My cloak saved me for the third time of the night, the folds at my neck warding off its claws and keeping it from getting a proper grip, until it went limp.

Kaczmarek’s gun fired again, but there was no silence to be broken this time. Alemayehu was shouting, a long triangular sword flashing in his left hand as he beat away the knives of the pair of kobolds pressing him. Now behind me, the prince was shouting—my blood ran cold.

Heaving the corpse off my chest, I scrambled to right myself, catching glimpses of the boy with his smallsword held out in front of himself, a kobold with a knife closing in. I couldn’t make it in time.

Desperately, I half-stood-half-crawled forward, cursing my one arm and lashing out from the ground at the monster. Almost mockingly, it vaulted over my sword, catching the prince’s blade with its knife. His Highness was only a passable swordsman, and cold, tired, and panicking, he didn’t have a chance. His sword was too long for this distance. The reins dropped out of his hand and I could only watch in horror as the kobold screeched in triumph and raised the dagger—

And then Munter shook his head with that motion that always had grooms recoiling, and the big gelding’s jaws locked onto the kobold’s shoulder. One quick jerk of his powerful neck put it on the ground in front of him, and then I couldn’t see the monster but I could see the horse rearing up and stomping down.

I got my feet under me, regaining some semblance of my balance and footing. “Are you alright, sir?” I choked out, breathless. The dark still glittered with hostile eyes, but none immediately upon us. One kobold lay at the magus’s feet, and the jäger was screaming imprecations at the mist while shaking blood from her sabre.

His Highness tried for a moment to say something, but his teeth were chattering too badly. He gave up and settled for a nod. My heart twinged for him, but my soldier’s mind kept me moving.

“Good.” I raised my voice. “Keep moving, jäger! Not a run, but as fast as you dare! Maybe they’ll let us go.” The first engagement might have gone as well as we could hope for, but I didn’t like our chances for another. Already I could feel hot liquid that was probably not sweat running down my side, and defending the prince would only get harder as the night grew colder and the last hints of daylight finally died.

“Just a second, reloading.” Kaczmarek called back. True to her word, a moment later she popped the rammer home and began walking, reins clutched in the same hand as the butt of her arquebus. I didn’t have the nerve to try to reload my own flintlock. Not one handed, and not while I might need to defend the prince, and certainly not both.

“How well do you fight, magus?” I asked, as we began moving again.

“Eh, only little,” he answered nervously. “Is, mmm, better here. Where the power of ceremonies is stronger.” With great care, he shifted the glowing crystal to his left hand and the sword to his right. He tilted it, showing that the blade was etched down its length with repeating patterns. “It is a blessed weapon. In the World Made, eh, not so good. Here, for fighting chaos creatures, powerful.”

I blinked, storing that for later. I would need to squeeze the magus for information on all of this, but especially on what he meant by chaos. And blessed weapons. The kobolds were not as deformed as the demons I’d fought at Nachberg, but had a similar uncanny nature. That was not the priority now, though.

“Can you hold the rear if they attack again?”

“Ehh, maybe.” He wetted his lips nervously. “I think so. If not many.”

I nodded briskly. “That’s all anyone can ask. The jäger has her eyes front, the prince and I have the flanks. I’m trusting you to watch our backs.”

“That I promise,” he agreed, turning to look over his shoulder. The eyes were still circling us, but the shrieking had died down. Now instead at intervals one would suddenly scream out without warning. It startled me fit to jump out my skin, which I supposed was the point. It was a deeply unnatural sound, somehow double-layered, like a pair of dying jackals. I tightened my grip on my sword.

We made it about another twenty metres before rocks began flying again, Kaczmarek cursing as one thudded into her shoulder. This time there was no reckless charge in from the kobolds.

I carefully hooked the front quillon of my scimitar in the good fingers of my left hand so I could gather some folds of my cloak in my right, using them as a shield against the stones. A good cloak could even foul a blow from a longsword; even the larger rocks the creatures threw had the sting taken out of them by the time they could reach flesh.

“Use your cloaks!” I shouted to the others. To His Highness, I added, “Like this, sir. Gather the folds and use them to catch the rocks. Mind they don’t hit your arm or feet, your Highness.” I cursed my useless left hand again as I failed to take my own advice, a projectile hitting my left shoulder with bruising force. My right was half-sheltered by the horses, but I couldn’t guard my left without being able to grip the cloth.

“Immer!” I ducked at the last second, narrowly avoiding a blow to the head. “A bit more speed might not go amiss,” I called ahead to Kaczmarek.

“I can’t properly see my feet,” she replied. “Any faster and someone’s gonna turn an ankle.”

I hunched my shoulders and winced as another stone bounced off my back. “Too slow and someone’s going to have a concussion.” I glanced backwards. “Magus, can you draw up closer with that light?”

With a bit more light, we were able to make better speed—although anything felt agonisingly slow under the hail of missiles. Mercifully, none struck my head, although there were some near misses. I was thankful the kobolds didn’t seem to have slings, relying only on their freakishly long arms.

After another hundred metres of this misery, I felt like nothing so much as a heavily tenderised piece of schnitzel. The stones had been coming faster and faster, though none of the kobolds had dared the light.

Something changed in the air, and the creatures began to hoot and holler again. I grudgingly let got of the shield of my cloak to grab my sword again. At least my fingers got a chance to warm up, I thought wryly.

Ahead, Kaczmarek fired again. After hours on the road followed by this fraught eternity of half-fighting half-waiting, I was so exhausted the sound was like nails being pounded into my ears. Just in that moment I was distracted, one of the monsters with a short sword lunged at me out of the darkness. I barely parried the blow—wild as it was—but the kobold was gone again before I could riposte. Behind me I heard steel on steel, and ahead I could see Kaczmarek likewise swiping at shadows.

A moment later, another lurched out of the dark. This time I was ready, and even as it approached I was already swinging at neck height, but it was gone again in a moment. To my side, His Highness yelped. I spun, only to see Munter had yanked the reins out of his hand and was trampling another kobold. I thanked the Heavens from the bottom of my heart for the spirited bay. He’d proven better at defending the prince than I.

“Let him—” Two kobolds leaped at me, one ahead and one behind. I ducked, letting the strike from behind pass over my head while I drove back the one in front with a wide slash. I turned through the motion, aiming for the one behind me, but overbalanced, tipping over onto my assailant. In the moment of chaos, I once again took advantage of my size, pounding at it with the front of my sword’s guard.

That’s twice now you’ve beaten one to death with your sword, Friedrich, the part of me that would not shut up in fights chided me. You know it’s a cutting weapon?

A half-grimace half-grin on my face I twisted back to defend myself against the first kobold, just in time to see it leap away from a clumsy stab by the prince. He’d not taken up the reins again, I noted with approval. “Let Munter be, sir. He’ll follow along and it seems he needs a little headroom to look after himself.”

Then conversation stopped again for a moment as I frantically defended against another pair of assaults, deflecting an axe down my blade and kicking out the leg of a clubman.

“Keep going!” I shouted. “They’re getting desperate.” At least, I hoped that was what it was. I had no idea what would cause them to be, but I didn’t want to think about the alternatives.

“I think I’ve found the reason why,” Kaczmarek replied. As if on cue, the eyes began to melt away into the darkness. I blinked, let down by the anti-climax.

“Why, then?” I asked.

She gestured forward. “Have a look for yourself. Might need the magus’s light a bit closer.”

I flinched away reflexively from what I saw. Across the ravine ran a very neat, level fence, interrupted ahead of us by a high, arched gate. It wouldn’t have looked out of place on the farm of a particularly industrious serf—except for the carefully symmetrical arrangements of skulls, bones, and other grim trophies decorating it.

“Ah, goblin territory!” Magus Alemayehu declared, with relief in his voice that I absolutely did not share.