“Can’t this mobile flea-bag go any faster?” cried Max.

“Probably not,” I replied. The little pony had been plodding virtually non-stop since I’d stolen it. I was fairly impressed that it had done so without complaint and equally sure a normal horse would already have stopped or dropped dead from exhaustion. And now we were asking for its best efforts, which appeared to be a sort of shambling stumble not much quicker than its plod.

Still, we had plenty of motivation. I gave it another sharp kick and it responded with a lurch and a few quicker steps, but it was still a long way short of a gallop. Perhaps if I got off and gave it a push, I thought. Or maybe we’d go a bit faster if I picked it up and carried it for a while.

A goblin darted in from the side and cast its arrow-spear before running away. The pony veered left, gave a small neigh as it crashed over a shrub, and actually increased its pace a bit more. But it needn’t have worried. The spear, aimed for its flank, struck true, but it didn’t carry enough weight to do damage. It bounced harmlessly away.

I laughed. Had the goblin been closer it would have tasted my boot. Nor would it have been the first. Over the past quarter hour, more than a handful of the vicious little brutes had been kicked. Some had rebounded to rejoin the thirty or so others behind us. A smaller number I’d connected with solidly. These had gone flying, and one or two had left spatters of green blood behind.

“I told you not to worry,” I said.

Max wasn’t convinced. He sat perched on the pony’s head, facing towards me but looking everywhere at once and holding his sword raised in defense, even though he must have known how useless it was. His eyes were large and he looked pale. For him, this must have been a nightmare come true.

“Laff all yeh want, jus’ keep ‘em away from me while yeh’re doin’ it!” he said. Then, “I need a drink.”

I was happy to oblige. With keeping them away, I mean. Because while I didn’t rate the danger the goblins posed overmuch, I still didn’t want them to come any closer. But if they did, I figured that I could probably handle thirty or so if they didn’t get on top of me. Even though I still felt done-in from yesterday’s beating.

“No problem,” I said. “They’re pretty dumb. If they had any brains they wouldn’t have chased us like this, but would have set an ambush instead. They would have….”

The words died in my throat.

The goblins weren’t as dumb as I thought. We’d just reached the top of a small hill where there were fewer shrubs and no tussock at all. Except for a few lichen-covered rocks, the hilltop was bald.

It was apparently the goblin’s idea of a really good ambush spot.

“Verna’s tits,” I said, my grin long forgotten. Verna was the goddess of thieves. I seldom used her name, but for once it seemed appropriate to do so.

There were hundreds of goblins all around us. Thin ones, fat ones, taller ones and tiny ones. Some had skin light enough to be gray while others were so dark they were black, with every shade of green in between. Most wore little more than raggedy loin-cloths, but here and there one or other would have a gold ring in its ear or a silver chain around its neck.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

All of them carried weapons and looked eager to use them. Many were howling or jabbering incoherent war cries.

I thought quickly and decided that charging right through them might be the best option.

Unfortunately, the pony decided to stop and offer an uncertain neigh.

“Bleurk!” said Max.

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I wholeheartedly agreed.

I kicked the pony’s flanks. It just stood there, stomping its hooves and shaking its head. “Coward,” I muttered to it. I jumped off to free up my hands and my feet.

As if that was a signal, the goblins charged.

“Don’t let them get me!” shrieked Max as he curled himself into a ball.

“I won’t,” I replied. But then I had an idea. A fast as thought, I picked him up by the scruff of the neck.

“Hey! Whaddaya doin’?”

“Let me go and you can have this pixie!” I shouted.

It had no effect. Did goblins eat humans too? Probably, I thought, but we’re a little harder to catch.

I shrugged. It’d been worth a try. “Fly, Max,” I said, and threw him as hard as I could, aiming for height as well as distance.

Then I drew a couple of knives and waited the second or two it took for the goblins to arrive.

Remember what I said about fighting? That I’d do so only when the odds were balanced towards me? Well, in this instance they most certainly weren’t. I mean, I could have handled ten without breathing hard. Twenty would have taken a bit of effort. Thirty would be getting a bit iffy, and I’d be sweating by the time I was done.

Three hundred? Maybe four?

Nope. Not for me. Especially as most of my muscles felt mushy, and to survive more than a couple of minutes in such a fight I would’ve had to be at the top of my game.

So instead of laying about me with my knives and hoping for the best, I batted a couple of arrow-spears out of my way, gathered myself and leaped as high and hard as I could.

I sailed clean over the first few rows and crashed feet-first into those bringing up the rear, crunching a couple of goblins good. The goblins were quick to react, stabbing at me with knives and their spears, but my armor protected me and I hadn’t stopped. As the poor pony started to scream behind me, I kicked and battered my way through, pausing only when the weight of the goblins grew too great. Then I slashed left and right, punched a fat one, and spun about to shake off a couple that clung to my arms.

Two more kicks and I saw empty scrubland beyond. Sensing freedom, I surged towards it and burst my way through.

I ran, as fast as I could.

Something landed on my shoulder and I instinctively shook it off.

“It’s me, yeh daft bugger!” said Max, now flying full-speed beside me and struggling to keep up. “Slow down, will yeh?” he yelled.

I barked a laugh that I barely had breath for. “Not with this lot behind me!” I yelled back. I was trying to speed up!

He didn’t waste any more effort on talking. Instead, he just strove as hard as he could to keep pace. I eased off half a stride despite what I’d said. It was just enough for him to grab hold of my tunic and pull himself, puffing loudly in my ear, back onto my shoulder.

“Now run, yeh fool!”

“What do you think I’m doing?!” I gasped, already short of breath.

Even so, I did all I could to comply, dodging thorn bushes, small trees and anything too substantial to run through, and hoping the tussock hid no stones big enough to cause me to stumble.

It was never going to be enough. I learned that goblins could move really quickly when sufficiently motivated, and they didn’t seem to mind the uneven terrain. Arrow-spears already sailed past me to the left and right, and the disconcerting jabbering had increased in volume and pitch.

They were getting excited, I thought. And if I kept going as I was, I’d just tire myself out.

“Look for….” I gasped, but didn’t need to continue. I’d already seen what I wanted: a boulder, bigger than most, taller and wider than me by some margin. I changed direction slightly and kept running.

By almost superhuman effort I arrived at the boulder before the goblins could reach me. Then I turned to face them, my back safely guarded, and tried to catch my breath.

Max didn’t understand. “What in all the land do yeh think yeh’re doin’?” he demanded.

“The only thing I can,” I said.

“Well, yeh can do it by yehrself!” he said, and took off over the boulder.

I had time to reflect that I would’ve done exactly the same if I were him. Even so, it made me feel sad.

Then I was fighting for my life.