“When you said, ‘let’s get paid’ I was thinking we’d spend it on some things a little less…boring?” Corwin groused, stamping his feet in the stiff leather of his new boots. They were plain, with thick soles, not armored, not even a steel toe. They had spent several hours between a tailor, a cobbler, and the general store. The new tunic and trousers itched, and the padded arming jacket was already too hot. The pack they had bought had a variety of different things rolled up inside and hung from the frame, but he could tell already that it was going to get heavy before long.

Jabez snorted, gnawing on some jerky he had conjured from somewhere. “Everything we’ve bought will be worth twice what you paid for it once we’ve been on the road for a month or so.” He was striding in the determined manner that Corwin was starting to recognize as dwarf on a mission. “How much have you got left?”

Corwin dug out his new purse and peered inside. “A lot, ten crowns and a few bits.” He couldn’t help smiling to himself, he had never had so much money in his life.

“Well maybe he’ll be willing to bargain.” Jabez sighed. “Either way we’ll likely be sleeping rough tonight.”

“What do you mean? We’ve got more than enough money for a night at an inn.” Corwin protested.

Jabez turned and looked Corwin over from head to toe. “Out of all the things we’ve bought today. What are you missing?”

Corwin shrugged. “A bed and a good meal?”

“Oh, you’re going to be fun.” Jabez groaned. “I thought you were this wide-eyed country boy, but apparently the cows taught you sass!”

“We didn’t have cows.” Corwin said, confused. “We had chickens, though.”

Jabez shook his head and continued on his way, past the other small shops that lined Holton’s high street. Towards the edge of town, he found what he was looking for, a small stone building giving off gouts of smoke and ringing with the sound of metal on metal. “We’re going to get you a proper weapon, kid.”

“Aren’t real weapons, well, expensive?” Corwin asked.

“Very.” Jabez grunted. “Let’s hope this fellow likes to haggle.”

They entered the forge, waves of heat hitting them, Corwin staggered back a bit. He had only been to the forge at Durron’s Ford a few times with Jack to get farm equipment repaired. On those trips he had always waited outside while Jack dealt with Ned Tolman, the blacksmith. Strangely enough that had been how he had met Kat. They had gotten to talking one day in the yard outside her father’s forge. He wondered where she was now.

Jabez seemed invigorated by the searing heat. “Ahhh, a fine forge you have here, gentlemen! Fire looks hot enough to burn your beard off!”

The two smiths turned, setting down their work as they regarded the newcomers. Almost in unison they pulled down the leather masks covering their decidedly un-bearded faces, then undid the kerchiefs that held their sweat-damp blonde hair from cascading down their shoulders. The ladies looked quite similarly bemused by the little men who had entered their domain.

“I know I’m always having that problem with my beard.” One of them mused. “What about you, Jessa?”

“Indeed, Jana.” The other said with a mockingly serious nod. “Sparks will sear ‘em straight off.”

“That’s why blacksmithing really is a woman’s profession.” Jana said, hefting her hammer, muscles of her forearm rippling.

“Oh…well, that is…” Jabez spluttered.

“Was there something you needed?” Jessa asked.

“We were hoping to buy a weapon.” Corwin piped up, noting that Jabez had turned a shade of beet red and seemed unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Were you, now?” Jessa remarked, exchanging a glance with Jana. “Any sort in particular?”

Corwin thought on this for a moment. “A good one?”

Jana barked a laugh. “Luckily for you both, that’s all we sell. Come out back let’s see if we can find you something.”

The women led them out of the forge and into the small courtyard behind the smithy. Jessa walked over to a small outbuilding and pulled out a ring of keys. Jana turned to Jabez with a casual smirk. “Surprised that a little thing like lady smiths would fluster you. I thought all the best dwarven smiths were women.”

Jabez seemed to gather his composure. “They are, it’s been a long time since I’ve been back to Kundaraak, so I’ve gotten rather used to the types of men who usually run a human smithy.”

“Ah yes, the loud, hard-drinking, hard-farting sort.” Jessa called over her shoulder.

“We do miss dear old dad.” Jana said, wistfully.

“Did he die?” Corwin asked.

“Nah, just retired. Moved across the county with our stepmom.” Jessa said, getting the lock open and pulling open the heavy doors.

“Her we do not miss.” Jana said, firmly.

“OK then.” Jessa said looking over the array of steel and wood and leather that lined the small armory’s walls. “Who are we outfitting?”

“The boy.” Jabez said, jerking a thumb at Corwin and stepping forward to look at the sisters’ wares. “I’m set for now, but these look very nice.”

“We do all the work ourselves.” Jana said, more than a little smug. “Except for the little fiddly bits, that’s our sister Jacinda. She runs the silversmiths down the high street.”

Jessa ran a practiced eye over Corwin, taking in his slouching posture and shuffling feet. She grimaced and started pulling things off the walls. “And what will our young friend need this weapon for?”

“Guild work, we’re Wayfarers.” Jabez said, then coughed slightly into his hand. “Is there a Guild discount?”

“Him?” Jessa asked. “Looks like a strong wind would blow him over.”

“Stick him in a field to scare off crows!” Jana barked a laugh, thumping Corwin on the back, causing him to stumble forward slightly.

“I don’t have much in the way of small weapons. I might have a short-sword or two back here.” Jessa mused, walking further into the armory and rummaging around.

“He’s getting warrior training.” Jabez said, firmly.

Jessa glanced again at Corwin. “You sure?”

“I train warriors. I know what I’m doing.” Jabez said, looking up at Jessa with an expression that dared her to disagree.

“All right, what are we doing then? Blades or bludgeon?” Jessa asked, shaking her head.

Jabez looked back at Corwin, eyes narrowed. “I think he needs blades, ain’t got the mass yet for bludgeon.”

Jana nodded. “Maybe a hatchet or a cutlass. Easy to hack away at your enemy with those.”

“No.” Jabez shook his head. “We want some finesse; I’m not just training a brute.”

“I’d be OK with just doing something simple for a while.” Corwin piped up.

“Shush.” Jana said. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Jessa frowned then plucked a plain sword off the wall of her armory. “Hand and a half, commonly known as a bastard sword since it’s not really a longsword and it’s not really a greatsword. Can be used one handed for finesse or two handed for power. We used Therium in the alloy so if you have any wizards or clerics who work with you then the sword will be able to hold a charge for longer.”

Jabez took the blade and inspected it, balancing it on one calloused finger, giving it a few practice swings. He nodded and handed the blade over to Corwin, who immediately staggered and almost dropped the weapon.

“Careful!” Jana, Jessa, and Jabez all barked in unison.

Corwin swallowed and lifted the sword, holding it in front of him awkwardly.

Jessa sighed. “If I let you walk out of here with that blade you have to promise me you will not leave it with his corpse when he dies some sort of embarrassing death. I really don’t think my reputation could take that hit.”

“He’s not that bad.” Jabez rumbled. “He’s got potential, just needs some direction, I figure. And a good weapon. Speaking of which, let’s talk price.”

“Hundred and fifty crowns.” Jana said immediately.

“In Sothsford, maybe.” Jabez snorted. “Out here in the sticks? Really how much weapons custom are you getting these days?”

“You’d be surprised.” Jana smirked. “The Thorne sisters are quite well known in the right circles.”

“I couldn’t see myself paying more than seventy-five for it.” Jabez said with a shrug.

“Then you won’t see yourself leaving with it.” Jana shrugged right back. “But since you’re entertaining, I’d go as low as one-forty.”

“I don’t think—” Corwin said, going a little pale at the sums being bandied about.

“Entertaining? Well you’d know with that joke of a discount.” Jabez scoffed. “But I’ll be generous, eighty-five.”

“I really can’t—” Corwin tried to get in.

“Oh, that’s a laugh, sure you’re not a Bard?” Jana retorted. “But the kid needs all the help he can get, one-twenty-five.”

Jabez squinted. “Call it a Guild discount and make it one-fifteen?”

“Jabez I don’t have—”

“Quiet, kid.” Jabez growled, in the thrall of the deal.

Jana looked over at Jessa who gave a slight nod. “All right, dwarf, you and the kid got a deal.”

“Wonderful.” Jabez said, reaching into a pouch. “Guild Marker suffice? Plus, we can give you ten crowns as a down payment.”

“Do you types ever pay any other way?” Jana rolled her eyes. “Fine, give me your Marker, but you’d better be making regular deposits, or I know people who will hunt you down.”

“You wouldn’t have to. Ever seen a Guild accountant? Mean motherfuckers.” Jabez shook his head and handed over a large sized coin with a rune etched on one side. “All right, boy, go ahead and give the nice lady her money so you can keep your new sword.”

“I tried to tell you; I don’t have a hundred crowns.” Corwin said. “I’ve only got ten crowns left from dealing with those spiders.”

“Spiders?” Jessa asked. “Big ones? Size of a dog, maybe?”

Corwin nodded.

“Huh, didn’t Caleb say there were some spiders that were causing trouble for the homesteaders on the western edges of the forest?” Jana mused.

“That he did.” Jessa said. “Been a right nuisance, stealing livestock and such. There was a concern that they might start attacking villagers next.”

“Well they ain’t a concern no longer.” Jabez said. “This boy killed two of ‘em with a tree branch.”

Jessa and Jana exchanged glances. “Maybe he won’t be a disgrace to my sword after all.” Jessa said with a pleasantly surprised grin. “Tell you what, kid, you can have a scabbard and sword belt on the house in recognition of services rendered to the community.”

She reached for a thick leather belt and the accompanying scabbard, then turned and tossed it to Corwin, who again fumbled to hold on to everything.

“Thank you, but I still don’t have a hundred crowns.” Corwin protested.

“Guild Marker.” Jabez said. “The Guild agrees to pay out regular installments to anyone who holds one of our markers until the debt is paid off. When we turn in a quest or clear an Underlands breach we pay our dues to the Guild. If we owe anything on our Markers we pay against that as well. But we agreed to a ten crown down payment, so pay the lady.”

Corwin grumbled to himself and handed over the last of his silver to Jana.

“Thank you, kindly, young sir.” She said, quickly making the ten silver coins disappear somewhere beneath her leather apron. “And next time you gents are in Lewton, stop on by, we mend and make weapons and armor of all types.”

“Best in the county.” Jessa chimed in.

***

Corwin adjusted his new belt and tried to get used to the weight on his hip. The sword liked to swing about and try to get between his legs. They had not been walking very long, just long enough to leave Lewton to the south, but he had already tripped over the sword nearly half a dozen times.

“Quit playing with it.” Jabez grumbled.

“It keeps swinging around and getting in the way.” Corwin protested.

“Voloch be merciful, are you going to whine like this the entire time?”

“Sorry, I’m just not used to it.” Corwin said.

“You will.” Jabez sighed. “The Glory Road runs two thousand miles from end to end, and l intend to walk a good chunk of it, which means you will too.”

“Two thousand!” Corwin sputtered. “That’s…I don’t even know how far…wait, what’s the Glory Road? This is the Silver Road, isn’t it?”

“It is, it’s also the Wayfarer’s Road, and the Glory Road. Wayfarer’s because Guild members like you and me wander up and down it taking up contracts and dealing with problems. Glory Road because sometimes, if you get very lucky, you become a big damn hero.” Jabez said, letting a little grin sneak across his face. “Of course, then they send you up to the Palisade Pass to deal with the big nasties.”

“I don’t need to be a big damn hero.” Corwin said. “Just want to make a living, maybe send some money home.”

“Truthfully?” Jabez asked.

“Yes, why else would I want to do this?” Corwin shrugged. “Trudge thousands of miles and throw myself at monsters for coin that’s gone as soon as you buy equipment to move on to the next monster or town or whatever.”

“Fortune and glory are the usual motives.” Jabez said. “Guarantee every one of those apprentices back in Lewton is signing up thinking they’ll be the next Rowan the Archer or Samson Shadowbane.”

Corwin shook his head. “Nah, I never wanted something like that. My dad got conscripted when Duke Hightower took his army to Palisade. Some orcs were attacking, they said it was important.”

“Kurg Bonesplitter’s Horde.” Jabez mused. “Fifty thousand orcs smashed Palisade’s defenses. The ducal armies managed to keep them bottled up in the mountains. Otherwise they might have burned the whole country down, probably pretty important.”

“Well, all I knew was that my dad was given a tabard, a shield, and a spear and told to march in line. They marched north and he never came back.” Corwin spat. “My brother kept the farm running and I tried to help as much as I could, but the harvests were never enough, the taxes kept rising. Anyways, I made some bad decisions, now we’re here, and I don’t want to be Rowan whatever, I just want to make sure my family gets taken care of.”

They walked in silence for a time, Corwin occasionally tripping over his sword and cursing.

“Wear it a bit further up on your hip.” Jabez said.

“What?”

“Your sword, it’s too low, so it tangles in your legs.” Jabez said. “Also walk with your hand resting on the pommel. You’ll look like you’re ready for a fight in case someone wants to pick one, and it’ll keep the sword from swinging around until you get used to it.”

Corwin adjusted the belt and scabbard, then rested his hand on the pommel as they walked. “Like this?”

“That’ll do, yeah.” Jabez nodded. “Maybe take it out now and again and carry it in your hand or rest it on your shoulder.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to draw your sword unless you meant to draw blood?” Corwin asked.

“Where’d you hear something stupid like that?” Jabez blinked, seemingly offended by the idiocy of the statement.

“Ah, just around.” Corwin said, not wanting to admit that he’d heard it from a bard in a song that, now that he thought of it, might have been about something other than swords.

“Well, I’m telling you that you will have to draw your sword if you’re going to learn how to use it.” Jabez said, shaking his head.

Corwin awkwardly drew the three feet of steel and then rested it against his shoulder on the arming jacket. He hated to admit it, but he felt really good with the blade in his hand. It was like he had passed some sort of test and was now moving forward with his life. He gave the sword a few experimental swings. It was not as heavy as he had originally thought. Corwin whipped it back and forth, throwing himself off balance and causing him to stumble slightly.

Jabez quickly jumped out of the way of his lumbering apprentice. “Gods above, boy, watch it! All right, first lesson, balance!” He dug into his satchel for a moment and produced a small book. “Balance that on your head while we walk.”

“Why?” Corwin asked, confused.

“Because you keep tripping over your own godsdamned feet!” Jabez growled. “So, this is how we’re going to beat some balance into you, farm boy. Every time you drop the book, I want ten push-ups, then you catch up to me and we start again.”

Corwin scowled and sheathed his sword, then placed the book on top of his head and started walking.

The book fell off on the third step.

Corwin sighed and started to take off his pack.

“What are you doing?” Jabez asked.

“Push-ups, like you asked.” Corwin replied, brow furrowed in confusion.

“We don’t have time for you to strip down every time.” Jabez said. “Pack stays on, give me ten and then catch up.”

Jabez turned and continued walking. Corwin uttered a wordless curse of annoyance and sank down to his hands and knees. The pack made things awkward and the extra weight meant that the simple exercise felt twice as difficult. When he was finished, he hauled himself to his feet and looked up to see Jabez nearly a quarter mile down the trail. Corwin growled in annoyance and was forced to sprint to catch up.

“Nice of you to join me.” Jabez said. “Now put on your book and let’s keep going. It’s going to be dark soon and I want to put some miles behind us.”

Corwin dropped the book twenty times before Jabez finally called a halt.

The dwarf was sitting beneath a tree in a clearing not far from the road. A small creek burbled nearby, and he had already cleared most of the brush to form a small, but comfortable campsite.

The pack hit the ground, and Corwin slumped next to it. Everything hurt, his arms, his legs, his back, his stomach for some reason. The stiff leather had rubbed his feet raw and now he wanted nothing more than to strip off his boots and dunk them in the creek for a few hours.

“Where’s my book?” Jabez asked as he filled his pipe with a black and fragrant weed.

Corwin groaned and tossed the book at the dwarf. Jabez grunted as he caught it then thumbed through the pages. “Damn, you lost my place.” He muttered, striking a spark from his fire-starter to get his pipe lit. “Gather up some wood and get a fire started, would you?”

“Could you give me a moment?” Corwin panted. “My legs feel like they’re about to fall off, just this morning I was bitten and probably poisoned by giant spiders, you hauled me around town and never got a chance to eat, then we hiked I don’t know how many miles—”

“Five.”

“What?” Corwin blinked.

“We hiked five miles from Lewton. Probably could have made it further, but someone kept dropping my book.” Jabez said, puffing his pipe and holding up the book for emphasis.

“Anyways, it’s been a day and I’d appreciate a chance to rest a moment.” Corwin said vehemently.

“And you can, after you get the fire going.” Jabez said. “And you were only poisoned a little bit, the minor healing potion I gave you cleared you right out. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“You really want it done now.”

“Yep.”

“And you’re not going to help.”

“Nope.”

Corwin groaned as he levered himself to his feet once more and hobbled around the nearby woods, he gathered fallen branches and sticks. Dry wood that would burn easily. It did not take long, but his arms were still burning from carrying yet another load of weight. Stumbling back to camp he dumped the wood in the center of the clearing. He looked over at Jabez, the dwarf seemed to be enjoying his book and his pipe, oblivious to Corwin’s many moans and groans of displeasure. Corwin sighed and set the wood up in a simple conical structure, the way Jack had taught him back when he still took Corwin on hunting trips. Once that was done, he turned to Jabez. “All right, the fire-starter, if you will?”

Jabez looked up from his book. “What about it?”

“Can I borrow it to start the fire?” Corwin huffed in exasperation.

“I don’t like to loan my things out.” Jabez said, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

“Then how am I supposed to start the fire!” Corwin shouted, finally out of patience.

“Didn’t you get your own back at the general store?”

“No! You didn’t tell me I needed to!”

“Must have forgotten.” Jabez shrugged, turning back to his book. “You’ll figure it out, you’re a smart boy.”

Corwin bellowed in rage, kicking his carefully crafted firewood and stomping off towards the creek.

“Don’t take too long. It’s gonna get dark and then it will be really hard to get your part of the camp set up.” Jabez called after him.

Corwin made a gesture towards the dwarf that was guaranteed to start fights in any tavern in southern Solaria, but Jabez just grinned and went back to his pipe and his book. The creek was shielded from camp by a copse of low hanging willows and some thick grasses. It was easily accessible but once you were down near the water you were effectively hidden from view. Corwin stomped down to the creek’s edge, he felt disgusting and needed to wash off. He didn’t feel comfortable diving in, but he could at least cool off a bit. He tugged off his boots, hopping from one foot to another and sighing in relief as his swollen feet were freed. He stripped off his tunic and arming jacket, then laid his sword and sword belt on top of his clothes. Rolling up his trousers, Corwin waded into the cool water. He unabashedly moaned in pleasure from the feel of the creek water on his feet. Leaning over he splashed water on his face and on his chest, taking handfuls and rubbing it into his hair. Grinning he wiped water from his eyes and turned back to the shore.

A small figure was tugging on Corwin’s sword. It had already dragged the sword off Corwin’s clothes and was most of the way to the tall grasses that grew on the hillside. Corwin locked eyes with the creature. It was only slightly over three feet tall, dressed in ragged clothes and patchwork hides. Its skin was a dark green, and it had a wiry body—what one could tell of it from the shapeless clothes—and an overlarge head like a broad melon. Beady red eyes looked at Corwin with surprise, and then fury. It spat what Corwin assumed to be curses at him in a raspy language that seemed mostly consonants and spittle, then continued to tug the sword towards the grasses.

“Hey! That’s mine!” Corwin shouted and waded towards the shore.

The creature wrinkled its pug nose and hissed in irritation, tugging with all its might to get away with its treasure.

Corwin scrambled onto shore and grabbed the sword by the scabbard, pulling back. The creature screeched in fury, gesturing and babbling angrily. Corwin yanked the sword out of the creature’s hands with one solid yank. “Mine!”

The creature stumbled back, red eyes burning in fury. It reached behind itself and whipped out a nasty piece of battered steel. It had one long cutting edge, like a cleaver, only with serrations at irregular intervals. If it hit him, Corwin was sure, it would cause a nasty wound.

It darted forward before Corwin had a chance to register that it had a weapon and started swinging at Corwin’s exposed legs. He danced back, his natural dexterity saving him, and awkwardly managed to pull the sword from its scabbard.

Corwin swung the sword much like he would have the branch back in the spider cave. The creature dodged easily, and the momentum swung Corwin off balance. Dropped the book, another ten pushups.

The creature cackled and darted in, slashing with its chopper with fiendish glee. Corwin managed to turn a stumble into an awkward spin, moving himself away from the small creature, but further disorienting him. When he turned back the creature had gone from his line of sight. Corwin whipped around, looking around himself in every direction.

It was gone.

Corwin hesitantly lowered his sword. Maybe he had scared it off? It was hard to tell. Also, what was that thing? Corwin had been travelling on the Silver Road for years and had never run into so many monsters in one day. Was just the act of joining the Guild like some sort of beacon to the creatures?

A primal ululation coming from above made Corwin stumble in surprise and probably saved him as the creature plummeted from the tree above. Its chopper grazed Corwin’s shoulder leaving a shallow cut. If he had stood still then the chopper would have embedded itself deep into his neck, probably killing him. The creature hit the ground hard, stumbled and then righted itself, eyes locking on Corwin. It lifted its chopper and licked the blood off the blade, giving Corwin a sharp-toothed grin.

Corwin glared back at it, grasping his sword firmly, if this thing wanted a fight, he’d give it a fight. The creature shrieked and launched itself forward, again with wild swings. Corwin pivoted, much as he did back in Lewton with Alforth, and brought the sword around in an awkward, but well-powered slice. The blade bit deep in the creature’s thigh. A rush of greenish-black blood flowed over the creature’s leg and it howled in pain, dropping its chopper and hobbling away from Corwin.

It mewled piteously, dragging its leg behind it. Corwin watched it retreat, stunned. He’d never even killed the chickens back on the farm, his sister Lucy had always done that. The creature was obviously in pain. It wouldn’t be back, best to just let it go.

“Finish it.”

Jabez’s voice startled Corwin. The dwarf was now standing at the water’s edge, pipe and book in hand. Corwin looked from Jabez to the creature. “I-I…it’s hurt, it’ll just go off and die somewhere, I’m sure…”

“That’s a goblin, boy.” Jabez said. “He’s got a lair around here, probably twenty of his nearest and dearest with him. He’ll go back, tell them about us, then they might eat him, or patch him up, you never know with goblins. Then they’ll come and kill us in the night. I might be able to hold off a goblin band if I found the right ground, but they’ll likely tear you to pieces. So, finish him off.”

“I don’t know if I can.” Corwin said, shoulders slumping.

“This isn’t a suggestion, boy.” Jabez said, expression sour. “This is something you gotta do and get right with. That little dance he’s doing now, that’s designed for you to take pity on him and let him get too far away for you to catch him. Goblins got troll blood in ‘em. Let them eat and rest a bit and they’re good as new. Lucky for us, they don’t heal up unless they eat, so go over there, and end it.”

Corwin walked slowly to the hobbling goblin. It alternated piteous mewls with words in its harsh language.

“Don’t let it get to the grass, who knows what he’s got stashed there.” Jabez called.

Corwin easily overtook the wounded goblin. It stopped and collapsed, leg giving out. Corwin stared down into the creature’s beady red eyes. He could see fear there, panic, anger. He raised his sword, staring down at the creature. The goblin cursed him in its own language. Corwin closed his eyes and rammed his sword down.

He felt the blade sink into the sandy dirt. A high-pitched cackle came from the grass behind him as it rustled with the goblin’s passing.

“What happened?” Corwin exclaimed.

“It escaped.” Jabez said, rubbing his eyes. “Now we have to track the bugger down. Get your clothes on and let’s get going.”

“It’s just one goblin.” Corwin protested, pulling on his boots.

“Did you not listen to me the whole time you were trying to get the balls to put down that one goblin?” Jabez said, exasperated. “There’s a band nearby. That wee fella was a scout. He has gone back to the band to tell them that there’s a dumbass human and dwarf camping alone not far away. They’re gonna come back and eat you, at least, and probably take some very annoying bites out of me.”

“But you’ve got a magic hammer.” Corwin said, sliding the tunic on over his head.

“Magic’s got costs, kid, and Baldniruk can only do the thunder-wave three times in any day. I’ve already used two.” Jabez said, striding over to the grasses where the goblin had made a break for it. Corwin belted his sword on and joined him. “All right he left a pretty good trail, but it’s going to fade fast.”

“How can you tell?” Corwin asked. “I can’t see anything.”

“It’s a Talent.” Jabez said.

“Well if you don’t want to tell me you don’t have to.”

“No, I mean a Talent. It’s a skill we learn and can call up to help in these sorts of situations. I don’t have time to go into the nitty gritty of it, but a wizard friend of mine said it was like a spell’s schema. It’s like a rune or glyph you hold in your mind and it lets you do certain things. I’ve learned a few over the years and this one is pretty useful.” Jabez grabbed a stick and sketched out a symbol in the wet sand. “Just think of that symbol and the goblin as we walk, it might click.”

Jabez tossed the stick away and started into the brush, motioning for Corwin to follow. Corwin took one last look at the symbol in the sand and set out after the dwarf. They clambered through the dense undergrowth, Jabez following a trail only he could see, and forgetting that his apprentice was twice as tall as he was, leaving Corwin to fight through branches that the dwarf easily ducked under.

“Bugger is moving fast.” Jabez muttered as he struggled past some boulders on a hill. “Guess you didn’t hit him that hard.”

“He was bleeding pretty bad.” Corwin said as he followed.

“Damn troll-blood.” Cursed the dwarf. “You think you’ve taken one out, but unless you’ve killed him outright, he’s got a chance of surprising you. Nasty buggers, Underlands are swarming with them.”

Corwin just nodded, feeling like an idiot for letting a monster get away. If he’d just done what needed to be done, he wouldn’t be in this mess. That brought back a memory, unbidden, of Kat handing him a knife. It needs to be done; it’s gone too far. He shook his head, clearing away the thought. That was in the past, he was an adventurer, a Wayfarer, and he had a job to do.

While Jabez cursed and stumbled over the dense underbrush and rocky terrain, Corwin let his mind drift back to the glyph Jabez had sketched. He was pretty sure he remembered it right. The lines and angles seemed simple, so Corwin held it in his mind’s eye like Jabez had said, then he let the image of the goblin join it. He pictured the goblin with as much detail as he could remember. It was difficult to hold both images in his mind, the goblin and the glyph, but eventually he managed it. A strange sensation passed over him, a deep thrumming, like someone had strummed a guitar against him.

In the twilight Corwin could make out a faint golden line, like motes of dust in sunlight, leading up into the hills. Jabez was right next to it, every now and then glancing down at the wispy trail. “Is yours like a trail of faint golden light?”

Jabez looked back. “So, you got it? Huh, wonders never cease. I thought for sure that would’ve stumped you for days.”

“It wasn’t that hard.” Corwin scoffed.

“Eh, you just got lucky that we’re following a goblin who doesn’t think he’s being followed.” Jabez retorted. “Anything actively trying to conceal its trail and it’d just sort of peter out.”

Corwin looked down at the golden line, it ended just up ahead, fading into invisibility. “You mean like that?”

Jabez looked down at the line, which was now rapidly fading. “Bloody hell. Damn sloppy, Jabez, really damn sloppy. We’re about to get ambushed. Keep your back to me and make every strike count if you can. If we’re lucky they’ll go at us one or two at a time.”

Corwin turned, drawing his sword and facing his back to the dwarf. “And if we aren’t lucky?”

“They’ll swarm us, or they’ll have archers, or maybe a fucking shaman.” Jabez growled. “A lot of things can go wrong here, sorry, I should have been more careful.”

High-pitched cackling laughter came from the dense underbrush. The sound of many goblin voices gibbered around them. Corwin licked his lips, trying to point his sword every way he could at once. “What do I do?”

Jabez grunted, hefting his hammer. He spat on the ground and glared into the darkening forest. “Watch my back and kill the motherfuckers.”

The brush erupted with a variety of small dark green shapes. They carried spears and heavy cleaver-like knives with serrated edges. They howled and screeched in a gleeful frenzy. Corwin realized with horror that they were enjoying this. The goblins charged in a vicious, slavering mass. Jabez roared something in dwarvish and began laying about him with his hammer. One goblin tried to dart past Jabez and stab Corwin with his spear, Jabez swung his hammer in a backhanded arc, imploding the goblin’s chest. The creature tumbled end over end, chest collapsed and greenish-black blood spewing from its mouth.

Corwin turned to face the goblins rushing towards him. They fanned out in a semi-circle, four of them, mish-mashed armor and weapons. One he recognized, the blood had congealed on its side and it smirked with barely contained glee. Corwin felt a cold anger well up inside him. The fear he felt a moment before faded as he locked eyes on the creature he had felt pity for, the creature that was going to repay his hesitation with blood and death. With a snarl of his own Corwin stepped forward and slashed the smirk right off the goblin. Its head flew off into the brush somewhere, and the body collapsed, blood erupting like a fountain from the creature’s severed neck. Corwin screamed in triumph, which was short-lived as another goblin surged forward, raking its chopper across his side. The chopper tore a long gouge in the padded arming jacket but didn’t cut flesh. Corwin whirled, swiping his sword down in an awkward motion like he was swatting a bug. The blade bit into the goblin’s forearms, leaving the creature screaming, its hands dangling by shattered bone and sinew. He smashed the pommel of the sword into the goblin’s face and let it fall at his feet.

The remaining two goblins moved in cautiously. They both carried spears, giving them greater reach than their fallen comrades. The point of Corwin’s sword waved back and forth as the two goblins inched in and danced back. One called out to the other, who nodded. As one they leapt forward, emitting blood curdling screams as they attacked. The one to Corwin’s left thrust his spear high towards Corwin’s throat, while the one on his right lunged low towards his thigh. Corwin shifted to his right, feeling the spear penetrate the arming jacket and bit into the meat of his left shoulder. He grunted in pain and let go of his sword with his left hand. The goblin on his right missed as Corwin stepped out of the way. The goblin stumbled forward and Corwin’s sword bit deep into the goblin’s neck. It gurgled and squealed wetly as he pulled the blade back. Corwin then turned to the remaining goblin; whose spear remained embedded in Corwin’s shoulder. He grabbed the spear shaft with his left hand. The goblin’s red eyes went wide with shock as Corwin pulled it close and brought his blade down hard. The creature’s skull cracked and the head seemed to collapse like a rotten melon.

Panting for breath, Corwin yanked the spear from his shoulder and searched for his next target. The wood had gone silent, save for his own heavy breathing.

“Easy, Corwin.” Came a voice from behind him. Corwin whirled to see Jabez with twice as many goblins dead at his feet. Dark green blood splattered the dwarf’s face and beard, but his eyes were kind. “It’s over, lad. You’re all right.”

Corwin swallowed hard. “It’s over?”

“I’d wager so.” Jabez said, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “We killed a good number. If there are any left, they’ve moved on, looking for easier prey.”

“Now what?” Corwin asked, unsure what to do.

“First let’s get a bandage on that wound, then we’ll get you back to camp.” Jabez said, gently, like he was trying to calm a skittish horse.

“Wound?” Corwin said, then looked down at his shoulder. Blood soaked the arming jacket and the tunic beneath. “Damn, I just bought that.”

***

Some time later they sat by the fire that Jabez had built. Corwin slathered a foul-smelling poultice over his wound. Jabez had said that it would speed up the healing process, so far it only smelled and stung. Corwin wrinkled his nose as he stoppered the jar and started to unroll a clean bandage.

“Don’t make faces.” Jabez said, trudging up from the creek with Corwin’s tunic and jacket in hand. “It smells to the gods, but it works. You’ll have a scar, but we won’t have to have a go at the wound with needle and thread. Stitching requires a deft hand and I’m more a blunt instrument.” Jabez said, laying tunic and jacket over a tree branch near the fire. “Couldn’t get all the stains out, but it won’t look too bad under some travel dirt.”

“Thanks.” Corwin said, wrapping the bandage around his shoulder, trying to get the wound covered.

Jabez watched him struggle for a moment then grunted in annoyance and strode over. “Here, let me.” He took the roll of bandage out of Corwin’s hand and began rewrapping the wound with quick, sure motions. “Take it you didn’t do much in the way of healing the animals on the farm?”

“That was my sister.” Corwin said, shaking his head. “She handled anything that needed tending like that. “Lucy has—had a knack for that sort of thing.”

“Ah.” Jabez said, continuing to work. “And what did you do?”

Corwin shrugged with one shoulder. “Simple things. Haul wood, muck the barn, hoe the rows. Anything needing a strong back and not too much thought.”

“Your dad give you those chores?” Jabez asked.

“No.” Corwin shook his head. “Dad insisted that me and Jack learn everything, Lucy was still too small and Cara just a babe or he would have had them out with us too.”

“So why didn’t you learn farming like your brother?” Jabez tightened the bandage over Corwin’s shoulder, making sure that it wouldn’t come loose.

“After dad left, everything sort of fell to Jack. He couldn’t have been much more than twelve at the time. I was always a bit of a mooncalf, daydreaming, shirking chores, that kind of thing.” Corwin said with another half shrug. “Jack doesn’t have much patience, not like Dad, he’d sit with you all day to make sure you got something right. But not Jack, nah he’d show you a thing once and expect you to learn it cold like he did. Since it took me longer to learn things, he started just giving me simpler and simpler things, until I was doing barely anything at all beyond brute labor.”

“Nine at best.” Jabez snorted.

“What?”

“Red couldn’t judge strength if it jumped up and bit her in the ass.” Jabez said, tying off Corwin’s bandage. “Farmboys are tricky to judge, get a skinny one like you and it can be easy to peg you as somewhere between seven and nine. But you been hauling wood and water and gods know what else since you could walk, I bet. Know why I had you carry a full pack, do push-ups, and run to keep up with me?”

Corwin shook his head. “Cause you’re a right bastard?”

Jabez barked a laugh. “That’s fair.” He took a seat across the fire from Corwin and pulled a flask out of his pack. “I wanted to see what you could do. You’re strong as an ox, kid. Clumsy as hell, but I can work with that. I bet that blacksmith boy could’ve slugged you full in the face and you’d have come back for more.” Jabez took a swig from the flask while Corwin mulled this. “Now I’m going to say a few things that I may regret, but this is the first blood you’ve drawn from something man-like and you need a bit of a pep talk.” Jabez leaned forward and looked Corwin in the eyes. “Not many people can do what you did today. You’re a bit beat up, a spider bite and a couple goblin cuts aren’t nothing when you’re where you are, but I’m willing to bet that you’d still get up and swing that sword if something came crashing into this camp right now. And you can fight! Gods you’re a natural. I thought you had some skill with the spiders but when you let yourself go…” Jabez shook his head, taking a long pull on his flask, then offered it to Corwin.

“I don’t know if I can do that again.” Corwin said, taking the flask. “It felt…wrong to do that afterwards.”

Jabez nodded. “I get that. Man-like creatures, giving you those panicked doe-eyes. And some of them, sure, aren’t for killing. I’ve met my share of ‘monsters’ who were better men than those that hired me. But those little green bastards.” Jabez let his voice drop to a growl. “Those creatures were about to kill us for the fun of it. They weren’t starved, that much you could tell, and the way they lured us in…anyways, you did the right thing. You fought when you needed to, and you didn’t hesitate when it was time to get bloody. That counts for a lot in this business.”

Corwin took a drink from the flask; it was some sort of whiskey. The liquor burned going down, but for once he didn’t cough, just let the warmth fill him.

“Here’s the thing, kid.” Jabez said, leaning forward again. “This stretch of road isn’t patrolled by knights or men-at-arms. It’s two-thousand miles of small farms and villages, you might get a few ‘cities’ but those are upjumped towns if we’re being honest. Nothing of real value is over here, just monster-haunted forest and deadly mountains guarded by dragons, that’s it. But we’ve got an important job. We keep those monsters in the forest. We keep the nasty things that want to burn your farm and eat your mom and your brother and your sisters from doing just that to anyone on this road. The pay is shit, the food is bad, and you never know if you’re going to wake up in the morning…but sometimes, sometimes you get to do some good.”

Jabez undid the bracer on his left arm, then rolled back his sleeve. On the thick forearm Corwin saw a faded brand. It was in dwarvish script and made soft with time and crisscrossing scars from other injuries, but Corwin felt he knew what Jabez was showing him. “When you get to do that good.” Jabez continued. “Then you earn a bit of peace back. You get a little bit of your soul back.”

Corwin took another drink then handed the flask back to Jabez. The two of them sat in silence, staring at the fire. They sat there for a long while as the night deepened around them.

“So.” Corwin said, breaking the silence. “When do we start doing some of that hero shit?”

Jabez leaned back against a tree, taking another drink and smiling to himself. “Well, I heard that there’s a village about two days up the road that could use some help. If you’re up for it?”

“Yeah.” Corwin said. “Yeah, I think I am.”