“What is the plan now?” asks Karo, the defeat in her voice plain.

“What do you mean by asking me the plan? I am your escort, not your skulduggery guide. You’re going in there to spy for the glory of Lord Hob I seem to recall, boasting even, to say you will just accept whatever they suggest for your reason being there …”

I try to suppress any bitterness in my voice. Karo, wife of the Hob upon simply asking, yet she like I part of a group of kidnappers. I don’t understand his reasoning, it makes no sense.

“I could have probably got me here! This tribe doesn’t even dream of being attacked! Look down there, chatting, the guards with their spears casually slung over their shoulders, token round piece of wood over their chest for armour … and young! Life and death, a game to them.”

“Well, you can’t just walk in, you won’t pass as one of them, you are too lean. You can’t be Blood Suns or Flint Arrows and Meb’s people probably wouldn’t be welcome …”

I study the village, no wall, not even a low dirt one and this a brother of Mel’s, his seat of power and might! Plenty of fish drying makes sense as their tribal lands run alongside the river. Why doesn’t Meb just walk in and slay his brother?

“We are emissaries from the valley North of this valley … this isn’t to promise anything … mmm … gauge the level of interest?” A self-satisfying smile spreads across her lips, in effect congratulating herself.

“Look at us. Females! No Chief would send females on such a mission,” I reply with some venom. For a spy, her brains are severely lacking any creditable schemes.

She pouts. “There is a Matriarch in this valley, why not in ours and your armour is sufficiently well crafted to make these slow-witted goblins believe you are something special, like my bodyguard …”

I can’t contain myself. “You are the dimwit not them, what of the tribeswomen with the elder who have since returned? One! Only one recognises us and the game is up.”

“Don’t call me dimwit, besotted one!” She raises her hand and withdraws it, thinking more before acting out.

My anger instant. “What do you mean by that?” Unable to hold back I punch her shoulder without restraint.

She rubs her shoulder. “So, you are!” In a whiney voice adding, “Oh Lord Hob please don’t ignore me! You can trust me … I will be loyal … don’t you know you are my Hero …?”

Hitting her a mistake, if Lord Hob meant nothing to me, I would have just laughed her and the quip off.

“Pfft! You still need to solve.” I wave my hand towards the village. “This.”

She taps her chin with a finger. “We escaped from the Farm and for some consideration, we will report on a meeting between the Lord Hob and Meb, including the Chiefs who were determined after the culling of the Blood Suns to cull Meb’s brother’s lands as easy pickings. Lord Hob of course councils them not to but they storm off breaking all ties with him. They have the sniff of power in their noses after their victory over the Blood Suns!”

“I … umm.” This may slay. “Better. Some truth, there was a meeting, they have broken ties with Lord Hob … we find one of the elder’s cave goblins first and if the right one she may get us a hearing before Meb’s brother.”

“A couple of them smelt of fish … try the riverside villages?” Karo offers.

---

After the third, and we barely set foot into the village proper or maybe hamlet … four cottages, no businesses although drying fish everywhere … we find one.

A female goblin flies into the arms of Karo. “When I made the offer to visit, I didn’t … well think any others … never mind. Welcome!”

“I didn’t think you would remember me …”

She laughs, throwing her hands into the air. “Karo the mysterious one … we tried to guess your tribe, your skills and how wrong!” She shakes her head. “A kidnapper! How exciting. How come you didn’t kidnap anyone from around here hey?” She punches Karo’s arm playfully, fortunately not the one I punched.

I almost bend over laughing myself, at Karo’s indignant look.

Fish girl slaps Karo’s arm again. “Just fun’in, we would all probably die of fright if you did …” She takes a step back. “You aren’t here for that now, are you?” The happy go lucky ray of shine face disappearing in a flash.

“Yes,” I growl.

Karo slaps me on the shoulder, hard. Fish girl starts to back away …

“Don’t believe her, she’s a kidder.” Karo’s eyes bore into me. “My companion is only happy when she’s grumpy or teasing others …” Karo’s face sweeps into a pleasant generous smile, an ‘I am here for you’ look dazzling Fish girl and restoring her smile.

“I knew you were the better one.”

“Better one?” I ask.

Fish girl jumps, not remembering me standing here probably. “Well.” Her voice hushes. “She slew two males, killing strokes … not saying they didn’t deserve some sort of punishment after they threaten the dear elder, but no hesitation from her, one throw and went back to eating, both times. Maybe if the men didn’t threaten during dinner!”

Her eyes flash, I sense she inwardly celebrates after releasing a true nugget of wisdom upon the world – men shouldn’t threaten during dinner!

“Now,” says Karo, holding both of her hands out towards Fish girl who takes the offer. “We need to see your Chief and share important news with him.”

“Oh, Peb! You don’t need to give him a false title so grand.” She chuckles. “We call him Big Fish. He is really friendly, just visit him. He likes to talk to strangers. Especially if you have lots of stories …” Her head nods more than four times.

---

Different day, same young guard. Expecting at least a question about our visit to Peb’s seat of power, he looks us up and down and waves us on, his attention returning to a pale green fair of face young thing I am certain he considers one half of a future pairing … which includes him.

A few of those passing by wave and I return the gesture. They don’t see me as a threat, full-body armour, and twin long flint knives on my hips. The long flint a risk as flint is a brittle stone but the reach of them an advantage and these two are survivors of many melees. Perhaps Karo allays their fears, unarmed, flowing soft leather shirt and long skirt, a floral necklace of flowers. Maybe they see me as her bodyguard and not a threat to them personally?

Taking the obvious hard-packed dirt path from the entrance leads us before the largest building in the village, more than a cottage, a long log lodge, clay walls, sloping thatch roof and wooden frame twin doors – both open, a guard leaning on a doorpost either side.

As we approach, they both spring into action shaking their spears towards us … then both smile and break out into laughter, pointing their fingers at us.

“Should have seen your faces,” says one.

“She went for her knives,” offers the other.

“We are here to speak with the Big Fish?” I declare, without humour or appreciation not that they take offence.

“We know, everyone knows … go in you’re expected.”

Their laughter chases us into the lodge proper. One long hall and at the end sits the largest goblin I have ever seen as in tall, over four feet …

“Welcome. I am told you have news for me?” His elbows rest upon the arms of a grand high-backed chair. His attire is a mix of expert fitted furs and leather, all stitching neat and fine. A thick shifted spear rests across his lap.

“Thank you,” I reply. He halts our advance towards him by holding up a hand.

“Good throwing distance …” He snickers. “I should be able to hit one of you if you choose to run …”

I feel Karo glance at me, I refuse to return the glance, my eyes remain on our host. Finally, Karo breaks her silence.

“Until recently we stayed, well were politely held on the Farm of the Farmer Hob and overheard some information. If you could see your way clear to exchange food and shelter for the information for a few days before we need to move on …”

His hands grab at the length of his spear, crashing the weapon across the arms of his chair. “Gossip, rumours … what of stories … eh?” His instant anger gone, both eyebrows rising. The one thing I learn from his act is he is well in control of his emotions and not only were we expected, I suspect our news is already known to him.

“Your lands are in danger,” Karo pleads.

He scoffs while twirling the spear about in a dazzling display of manipulation until with a bang, the butt of the spear smashes down onto the wooden floor of the hall. The two guards sprint in, one standing beside each of us.

“Doom and gloom,” he announces.

I feel the two guards slump, their shoulders curling. They know what this means!

“Escort them from the village, if they try to return ban them from our lands.” A dismissive hand flapping at us to be on our way.

“Wait,” I shout. “A story, I have a story …”

His spear goes back across his lap, and he shuffles back into his chair.

I guess that is my cue …

“The Lord Farmer Hob sent me on a quest to prove my loyalty and worth. I needed to claim a ransom from across the mountains by exchanging a captive. The captive declared herself a ransom and because of this, she was obligated not to try and escape, and I was obligated to protect her from harm.”

A chin scratch and nod. “Very civilised, fewer deaths I suppose …”

“Right. For the journey there we kept to the woods and trees, which meant skirting around Blood Suns lands. At night, their celebrations carried on the wind, howls, and screams to freeze the blood, male, and female voices, although pain and anguish could be heard more often than not in many female ravings …”

“You didn’t try to rescue any?” he asks. “Such a heroic thing,” he mumbles, his eyes searching skywards and then snapping back to stare at me. “You look capable, and I like your knives …”

I hold my nerve. “Even if I snuck in, would any of the females be of right mind? If one raised the alarm a camp of berserks would surely slay me. No Chief Peb, I am brave, not foolhardy.”

He grunts and waves at me to continue. Heroics then is what interests you …

“We approach the mountain pass, and my captive signals her return using the light from a campfire at night, covering and uncovering in some secret signal, which they return. She assures me all is well. The path into the mountains is narrow, steep and switches back many times. Even though we climb the steps at dawn there is a sense of being watched every step of the way and the wind howls about you, one lapse of concentration and the fall will splatter your body against the lower reaches of the mountain, lost for all time.”

“Risk and danger, good, good,” he says leaning forward in his chair.

“The guards know my captive and yet consider rejecting her as she has been gone from their valley too many days, she refuses, on her knees begging and they take a whip to her. I have sworn an obligation to protect her, so I rush in and knock the guard off his feet and then back up to stand before my captive.”

“How many?”

“Six at least in the courtyard and more, maybe twenty watching on from the surrounding windows. You see either side of the pass the barracks are carved into stone, the exit facing our valley has two large thick wooden doors in a stone wall and the same at the other end leading into their valley. Once behind those doors, there is no escape and while I wanted to draw my daggers, I knew the moment I did I would be outnumbered …”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.” I chuckle. “You see this was a test. If I didn’t fulfil my obligation to protect the captive, then my side of the ransom agreement would be declared false, me slain, and the captive set free. As it was, they allowed us both to pass through the gates at the other end of the pass and into their valley. Fortunately, her tribe were arriving to take over guard duty and one guided us to her village. They didn’t express any anger or hold any resentment as far as they are concerned a life is worth more than any ransom treasure. What I didn’t realise she was the favourite of the Chief and the ransom in exchange for her high. A bronze knife!”

“What is bronze?”

“A wonderous metal, stronger than copper, the blade holds its sharpness …” I deliberately place a sadness in my voice. Not a difficult task given my many failures.

“What became of this blade?”

“They allowed me to walk back through the pass and travelling down those mountain stairs alone, perilous, you can only reassure yourself …” I pause trying to draw him into the danger. “Once through I took the same path back, we used to travel there … a mistake. As much as I can make out two attackers lay in wait. I felt their eyes upon me, small things like moving shadows, falling rocks and my eyes darted about from each disturbance … after a day and night of caution I decided to sprint … the Farm perhaps a day away, so close. Upon arrival, I would be able to hand the Lord Hob the dagger, prove my loyalty and once again join, be part of something bigger than myself and lose my loneliness …”

Feeling a warmth upon my face and my eyes moisten I shake my head and continue.

“Crossing a land dotted with bush and clumps of trees you would think the odds of meeting others unlikely, even rare and yet I not only met others I crashed into them, and we all tumbled down eating dirt. They grabbed for their weapons, desperation in their eyes. I lashed out with the knife, able to grab it amongst the tangle of arms and legs. Black blood spurted in my eyes and a corpse fell on me. I pushed my kill off me, and another stabbed me in my gut, a downward thrust with his body weight behind it slicing through my armour. I reached for the wound with one hand, and he wrestled the bronze knife from my other.”

I tap a guard and point to my throat.

“And, what next,” shouts Peb. “Quickly, water fool.”

I quench my thirst, drinking deep. When Peb moves in his chair I finish and drop the waterskin, to allow my hands to grab for empty air to add drama to the telling.

“Howls of another group ring out across the land, the one with the knife strikes for my throat so I kick out with my foot, he falls forward trying to keep his balance and slices my forehead instead. He is the last, his fellows had run on. He spits on me, and I hear his curses on the wind as he sprints to catch up.”

“You lost the knife.” Peb sits up in his chair, blinking.

He didn’t expect a tale of defeat … he believes in happy endings, how can he in this valley, probably this entire land. I fear my time to finish this tale is running out.

“I bandage as best I can and stumble and drag myself towards a distant light. This is a pyre I learn later, one of many which burn dead Blood Suns, over two hundred I am told later. Those doing the burning, although loyal to Lord Hob don’t recognise me, they think I am Blood Suns somehow and they beat on me, kicks, punches until I tire them out and mumble Lord Hob. I am fortunate, for some reason he travels nearby. You hear that Peb, nearby, he probably heard my screams … They drag me to him and while he recognises me, chooses to ignore me, because like you, he despises failure. His wives though nurse my broken and wounded body through the night …”

“Wives?”

I flash him a wry smile. “A tale for another time, but yes Lord Farmer Hob has wives, apparently to satisfy his lust when he has urges outside of seeding season …”

I chuckle as his jaw drops and I can tell there is another tale I could tell.

“In the morning I confess my failure, yet he knows already of course because no matter how wounded and beaten if I had the knife on me, I would have offered the prize up …”

“Hobs don’t value any living thing … this Hob does?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer.

“I don’t like this,” he mumbles to himself. “Change, difference, the sundering of the normal, my normal … peaceful ignorance and bliss, my people happy, me happy … My people get to eat, I get to eat and listen to stories. No need to worry about death and destruction, because tribal raiding is beyond my lands because Chief Bor Bone Eye and I are full brothers and he watches over my lands, guarantees my peace as long as I pay tribute in fish … now this Hob, this different Hob … how many Blood Suns dead?”

His rant takes me by surprise, when he asks a question my dry throat refuses to say any words.

He leaps from his chair charging down the length of the Hall. “How many Blood Suns dead?” he howls.

“O … over two hundred warriors …” I can’t help but take a step back, the two guards and Karo also. I glance at the guards and their faces are pale, almost white, which I didn’t think possible for a goblin.

Peb stops dead in his tracks. “TWO HUNDRED!” The thatched roof rains down debris.

“This is the end of petty bickering, small politics, peace … who claims their Tribal Lands?” His eyes focus on me from above as he stretches to his full height and Lord Hob’s face immediately flashes into my mind.

“Your … your brother, apparently. The other three tribes helped him …”

“Madness. This Farmer Hob is the spider in this web, the tribes of this valley don’t break centuries of tradition by themselves … why are they blind to this? What strings did he pull in their hearts?”

“Meb with the support of the other Chiefs threatened to destroy his farm, so he offered them grain and secured an agreement from the Head Hob a tribe could be culled from the valley … I think that is how. The Hob has farmers and builders, some hunters but win or lose if the tribes attack, they would destroy the crops.”

“Does Leb know of this folly?”

I glance at Karo, who for her part is somewhat cowering directly behind me and inadvertently eyeing the twin doors.

“Argh, you don’t know anything. I thought your visit some part of this Hob’s game, but you would hardly just walk into a tribal land without any preparation, that would be folly, after all, you could reveal information, you shouldn’t, such as a Head Hob sanctioning the culling of the biggest goblin tribe in the valley.” The heat and emotion in his words terrifying as is the implication. The softness in his next words taking me by surprise all the same. “Leb is my half-brother by the way and commands the other peaceful tribe in this valley, same father, different mother to both me and Meb …”

He ambles back to his chair and swings his body around and lands heavily. The wrinkles on his forehead deepening as his thoughts overtake him. In the quiet time he gives me, I think I work out his tactics. He uses his change in tone to intimidate and control the conversation and therefore the speakers are kept on edge, out of balance and if they haven’t any wits about them, they reveal more than they should. Probably what I just did. I gulp.

After a time, he looks up examining both me and Karo, I feel he is re-evaluating us.

“You will visit Leb. I will give you a token he will recognise as he is warier of strangers than I am, he likes to put them in pits and the like, wait for the sun, thirst, and starvation until they beg to tell the truth and given your tale of survival that will take many days, more than we can afford. So, there we have it, tell him all you have told me, although make him swear he will release you, free from harm afterwards. He doesn’t shout upon receiving bad news, he tends to throw weapons.” His eyes light up. “Why did you choose to visit me first?”

I was going to reply, closest, but I thought of a better answer. “Fate.”

He grunts.

Another thought occurs to me. “Peb, if you and your brothers share the same father and Chief Bor Bone Eye has the same father as you … well how?”

He smiles and settles back into his throne. “Perhaps I should make you ask Leb, but that could lead to unpleasantness … we don’t have heirs, every ten years there is a hunting contest, the greatest hunter is called the Grandfather and must sow his seed with the prized female from each tribe until at least one male is born and reaches ten years of age. This male then becomes the leader or chief of their mother’s tribe after coming of age or sooner if the reining chief dies. One-time triplet sons were born to the Laughing Tusks female and so the land was divided three ways and from then on, any second sons born to other tribes would become Laughing Tusks. Chief Bor and I are brothers as I have said and we have a peace, Leb and Chief Grol are brothers and have a peace. Meb and Chief OuzOuz are brothers also. Meb yearned for our peace, but the mead became a way of life for the Blood Suns and Chief OuzOuz wallowed in the drink as well. Regrettable and I am sure the raiding annoying, yet the alternative was war … and Meb knew he would lose, so we all thought him resigned to his fate ... until this strange Hob.”

“How does the Matriarch fit into this?” I probe.

“The Grandfather could only beget females with his chosen one, from the Grim Weavers, males would birth too early to live or be born dead. He would return time and time again and then he died while trying his last time. The Grandfather was meant to bond the tribes because of blood relations to counter extreme cases, such as a Hob rampage, which culled the Western tribes in the valley many ages ago. It seems powerless against this different Hob … who seems able to manipulate the tribes …”

“How? From what we have heard, the tribes threatened him …”

He smiles and nods, I have the feeling my defence of Lord Hob has revealed too much …

“To Meb the culling of the Blood Suns would have been a huge temptation after years of frustration, an easy thing for a Hob to ‘notice’ and then manipulate. No, the Hob is at the centre of this unravelling web and the damage is done and now we must all scramble out of the way or be caught … go. Talk to Leb.”

Peb throws me a token and upon examination, I note dry fish bones weaving in and out to surround a dry fisheye. I shudder for some reason.

---

I look behind, the quiet village of Peb seems no different from a distance, yet I am pleased we have left.

“Come on, Leb’s village is by a lake he said, South until we find a stream and then follow until it empties into the lake.”

“We aren’t going to visit Leb. He will capture us, let us rot and Peb will be clear of blame, for he wants us dead, make no mistake.”

I close Karo’s open jaw with a finger, which she shakes off to say, “He seemed nice and forthright, and he certainly liked your story …”

“The story convinced him Lord Hob didn’t value us, well me, certainly, and we didn’t come prepared, just sent out blindly to see what we could find out. Simple dumb dups of a Hob. If slain though we could be used as an excuse for revenge … Peb couldn’t fully work out Lord Hob’s plan but better his half-brother takes the fall than him.”

“And since his half-brother likes to throw prisoners in a pit, if the Hob sent others to rescue us, our real value would be revealed,” accurately concludes Karo.

“Or if no-one, Peb would be able to sleep at night knowing we were just valueless fools …”

“You know we should have asked about the Flint Arrows while he was talking about everything else.”

I shake my head. “They are already their own tribe, you can tell from Lord Hob’s wives they think themselves superior, the same for the tribe and Chief Bor was keen for them to be the next tribe culled. With the ‘peace’ Peb and Leb have with their Chief brothers if this holds the only one without any friend is Meb. Who can attack Meb? Meb would be looking to hold onto as much Blood Suns land as possible, which Grim Weavers would be in a better position to claim and could do so if Meb became busy elsewhere …”

“I think we should visit Meb,” suggests Karo.

My turn to drop my jaw. “You mad? He will be on guard, after all, who can he trust? And what of the Laughing Tusks who stayed with the elder? They will recognise you, and probably me as well.”

“Possibly, except they didn’t leave the Farm. I assume they were to return with their tribe when they visited last, except Lord Hob became consumed with Meb and his former wife, no discussion took place, and none raised the subject with their tribes or Lord Hob. So … I think they are still on the Farm.”

“He will still be on his guard,” I protest.

“Maybe, although I think he follows his own plan, he played a huge gamble, he must have his own end game otherwise why take the risk …?”

I place my hands upon the hilts of my long daggers. Pace a few steps one way and retrace those steps. Could the spy be correct? Did she finally find her brains?

“If we can’t go back to Peb, and we can’t go forward to Leb …” she offers while I pace.

I curse. “Peb said to travel South until we find a stream and then follow East until we find Leb’s village on the other side. We know Meb’s lands border the Farm, so we only need to travel West once we find the stream and with the Farm in the distance cross and we should be in Meb’s lands and by staying in cover we should be able to find his village, all trails would lead there wouldn’t they?”

“Your group and my group would slip through his lands with captives, so two of us should do as well.”

She extends an arm, an invitation to lead off …