Delver Magic I: Sanctum's Breach by Jeff Inlo (read novels website .TXT) 📕

“You will let me go if I do, yes?” the goblin demanded with as much fear as loathing.

Ryson bit back his growing anger. “You, yes. That is if you call for the retreat right now. The other one and the four back there are my prisoners. Now call retreat or you won’t be so lucky!”

Without hesitation, the goblin opened its mouth and called out with strange, unintelligible words.

Ryson kept his attention upon the goblin in front of him but listened for obvious signs of retreat to the rear. Whatever the goblin said, it clearly sent the desired message. Ryson heard the distinguishable sounds of scurrying feet. The goblins were moving away fast, out of the town.

“Now you must let me go,” the goblin demanded with a nervous watch upon the two blades which continued to threaten him.

Ryson sensed the swirling emotions in the goblin. The fear for its own near worthless life, its lackluster indifference to those it helped kill, and its bubbling desire to strike out against the delver. All such sentiment was as clear to the Ryson as if it were carved in the goblin’s breast plate. While it did not reach for its sword now, instead waited for the promised release, it was clear that the goblin would return with malicious intentions.

Ryson thought of the town and Linda. They were lucky he was here this night, but he would be gone in the morning and unable to protect them. If the goblins returned, many more would probably die, maybe even Linda.

If he stayed, the Sword of Decree would stay with him. Again, his vow to Mappel echoed in his ear, this time it mocked him. He had done all that was asked of him. He assisted Lief in reaching Sanctum and helped bring Shayed’s word to Mappel. Even now, the algors were probably reaching Connel. He need only return this blasted weapon which he did not want in the first place. It was all that required his departure from Burbon, but he could not ignore it. He had to leave, yet he had to protect this town as well.

Ryson turned one option over in his mind. He needed to convince the goblins that Burbon was not a worthy target for their ill-will, and he had a messenger before him. He stared deeply into the swollen face of the goblin.

“Before I let you go, I want to know your name.”

The goblin sneered, but could not help recoil from the delver’s searching stare. It responded with a whining protest. “That was not part of the deal.”

Ryson shook his head and exhaled heavily. “That’s alright. You don’t have to tell me anything. I know your scent now. I’d be able to find you again if I had to look through a hundred goblins. But I want you to know that I’ll be watching this town. If anything happens to it, I’m coming after you and you will answer to me. Understand?”

The goblin only spat.

With the swiftest of strikes, he smacked the goblin on the shoulder with the dull edge of the short sword. The motion was so quick it defied the goblin’s vision. It was meant to punctuate Ryson’s own intentions, to prove his words were no idle boast. “Remember what I said. I’m a delver and I will find you.”

The goblin’s expression turned to sullen concern and Ryson believed his words had found their mark in the goblin’s cowardly spirit.

“Move!” Ryson shouted. “Or draw your sword. Take your pick.”

The goblin chose the former and sped off into the night.

Ryson watched with grim satisfaction. He truly doubted this goblin would return, and he could only hope it would convince any others to avoid Burbon as well.

He allowed the fleeing goblin a few moments before addressing other important matters. He lifted the fallen goblin off the ground and brought it to the other four that remained unconscious in the road. He tied them all together before leaving them.

With the town still dark, he took the time to make a careful reconnaissance of every street and every alley in the western part of town. He found the tracks of the goblins and followed them to ensure they had all left town. None remained. They did, however, leave their mark.

Ryson found the bodies of eight guards scattered about the streets and alleys that remained in darkness. None were left alive, though most probably died in slow agony. The short arrows were not shot to kill immediately. They plunged into the stomach, the upper shoulders, the thighs and the back. One had as many as a dozen riddled among his limbs.

Ryson again remembered Lief’s words regarding the goblins and his distaste for them. The elf had warned Ryson that the goblin cared little for the sanctity of life, would not care for the life of a delver, or apparently a human. The proof was all around him. He threw the short sword to the ground and finished his reconnaissance.

Satisfied that the immediate danger had ended, the delver returned to the captured goblins, finding them surrounded by a half dozen guards. Many of the lamps were being relit and Ryson saw them clearly as he approached.

The guards wore minimal armor and carried spears just as those that stopped him that same afternoon. One, however, wore a long sword at his side and a vest of red cloth over his chest plate.

Upon noticing Ryson stepping forward, the guards turned and held their spears with menace. The man with the sword, though, merely cast a suspicious glance. He called out with a commanding tone.

“Are you responsible for this?” the question boomed out across the silence.

“I am,” Ryson stated simply and continued walking forward as if the spears meant nothing to him.

“And what of the creatures responsible for the raid?”

“They’re called goblins and they’re gone,” Ryson replied flatly. He walked past more than one guard, considering them nothing more than gnats buzzing around his ear.

“Stand down your arms!” came an order from the red vested soldier to which the guards reluctantly adhered.

“You’re the captain?” Ryson asked as he now stood in front of him.

“I am. Who might you be?”

“Ryson Acumen.”

The captain nodded and looked to the sword which remained sheathed at Ryson’s side. “I was told of your arrival. You’re the stranger from Connel. Tell me what happened here?”

Ryson treated the command as more of a casual request and responded in kind. “Your men told me this afternoon that they might need my help. I heard the commotion and simply did what they asked.”

The captain shook his head slowly but succinctly. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. I want to know how you were able to capture these goblins and thwart their attack.”

“I’m a delver,” Ryson admitted. “I was able to sneak up on the forward attackers before they saw or heard me. I took them out and forced one to call the retreat.”

“Any reason why you didn’t reveal that little secret to the guards this afternoon? If you did, I would’ve known about it.” The captain did not hide his annoyance with this simple fact.

Ryson revealed his own irritation, which was of a greater degree than that of the captain’s. “And what would you have done if I did tell them?”

“I would have wanted to see you.”

“And you would have asked a lot of questions, kept me under wraps until you could figure out what to do with me. Isn’t that right?” The delver’s words snapped from his mouth. It was the tongue lashing he wanted to give to the guard that blocked his passage earlier that day. He had found the man in charge, the man ultimately responsible for the stationed guard, and he bore into him. “You probably would have kept me locked up until you could ask all your mindless questions. Well if I allowed that, I wouldn’t have been able to save you the way I did. You would have all walked right into annihilation.”

“Don’t tell me what I would and wouldn’t do!” the captain started angrily, but Ryson wouldn’t let him finish.

“I’m not going to argue with you,” Ryson flashed. “You and I both know what would have happened. Just be grateful it didn’t. You have eight comrades dead back there. I kept there from being more. Now I’ve given you four prisoners to question, that should help you learn how to protect yourselves from these things. And by Godson you better learn. I gave one of them a warning to leave this town alone. I told it I’d hold it responsible for anything that happened here. Well now, I’m telling you the same. These things won’t go away just because you want them to. You have to do more than just carry around those stupid spears. Build walls and gates. Put guards in towers that are able to recognize when trouble’s near.”

The captain’s eyes blazed with fury. “You dare tell me how to protect this town. I have served in over …”

“I don’t care what you’ve done in the past. I know it didn’t help those eight men that are dead back there. Just remember what I said. I’m holding you responsible for the safety of this town. Now I’ve done more than my share, so I’m not going to stand here and waste time with you. I left some people at the Borderline Inn. I’m going back there now. If you want to join me and see what they say, that’s your choice. But if you want to try and stop me, well good luck. I don’t tire easily.”

He gave the captain a glaring stare of defiance before walking away. As he did, he called out one more time to him. “By the way, I’m staying for the night, but I’m leaving for Connel tomorrow. Don’t even think about stopping me. I’ll make you look bad.”

As Ryson turned back toward the inn, he reigned in his open hostility. He tried to force the unpleasantness of the evening from his mind. For the moment, the guards let him be. This allowed him a respite to clear the anger from his thoughts.

As he reflected upon his own actions, he realized how ill-tempered he himself was becoming. The captain did nothing beyond his own duty and nothing to truly solicit Ryson’s ire, yet Ryson was more than willing to apply a tongue lashing. He had found it satisfying, and that in itself seemed out of place for his usually good-natured character. Maybe it was his first encounter with the guard that brought out his hostilities. Maybe it was the tension created by the drastic changes in the land. Or perhaps the taint of evil in the magic was now reshaping itself to infect other races as well as the elves.

With this unpleasant thought, Ryson wondered how the taint would eventually destroy them. Would the poison simply lead to slow agonizing illness and death, or would it bring insanity? Was this the start of a violent madness which would turn them against each other? He cursed the sphere, cursed the changes.