Duzsia hurries to greet us. “They will live Lord Hob, we gave them water just in time, their skinny bodies can’t endure long without food and water, especially water.”
“Did the help we send help?”
“Once they overcame our presence. Zeb explained our allegiance to you and then proceeded to order them about and organise just about everything.”
“Why would they allow Zeb to order them after being duped by my wives?”
“He informed them you appointed him Master of Children and as such, now an official and while children were his priority, helping everyone and anyone who answers to the Lord Hob his sworn duty.”
“I see,” I reply, not entirely happy.
“Plus, we were rescuing goblins from within the silo, including one of your wives, not slaying anyone and obviously needing help and they were sent to help at the silo.”
I inwardly smile, so many words to say so little…
The scene opens before us, torches providing light, a carer beside every patient, all of whom lie out under the night sky. Koria and Luda join us.
“Our father is in his element Lord,” explains Koria.
I decide my presence isn’t required and begin to slip away from them. “Good, I leave the task to him while I retreat to the safety of my cabin and a long sleep.”
Milga quips, “Do you need any warmth Lord? I am sure Koria, Luda and Duzsia will offer their bodies for such a purpose.”
I pause, bow my head resigned to my fate, and then wave them on without looking. I reach my cabin with three buzzing bees about me, lift the crossbar and push the door open. They file in, inspect the spartan interior and share a lost look.
“The bunk is mine, you three can have a piece of floor.” With that said I fall like felled timber onto the bunk.
I catch a brief review while the bed closes in.
“This is how a Lord Hob lives …”
I am asleep I believe before my body lands.
---
A dull banging wakes me. I roll over trying to ignore the attempt to disturb, failing when a body prevents me. I open my eyes upon a naked body, much to my shock, which quickly turns to wonder. As I inspect further, purely to identify the owner I confirm female goblins grow pubic hair and no other, their breasts rest upon pigeon chest like pectoral muscles, modest yet attractive in their own way with distinctly feminine nipples while the light to medium shades of green of their skin enhances the various curves and shapes.
“You shouldn’t stare Lord Hob,” says Koria and as my eyes fall upon her, she smiles exposing pointed teeth. “You should partake and claim what is yours.”
Koria for her part is topless, leather boots and long pants, yet to finish. Another voice calls my eyes away from Koria.
“Yes, Lord Hob, we took turns in your bed, after all as sworn servants, we needed to ensure we performed as ordered,” added Duzsia, thankfully not naked, strolling to answer the door it would seem.
Whoever waits outside knocks again, this time waking Luda who stretches her arms providing me with another view of her incredible athletic body.
“Morning Lord,” she whispers and drapes her naked body over mine.
The door opens and before Koria can react a skinny female goblin darts inside like a bent-over chicken launching herself upon me. Skinny arms wrap around my neck and we lay as one, cheek to cheek.
“Lord, you return in time to rescue your loyal wife. They doubted, believing in our deaths, yet not I.”
With Luda laying on one arm, I am out of options. Unless I use a chokehold on Jora I won’t be able to dislodge her. My pleading eyes fall upon a fully dressed Koria.
“Come, goblin wife, allow your Lord to ready for the day,” suggests Koria.
Realisation spreads across Jora’s face. Her eyes registering the presence of and in turn studying each other female goblin in my cabin. An air of anticipation builds as her face turns back to mine.
“You have married others, Lord? Have Zata and Kexo met them yet?”
I chance a look at Koria, who shrugs.
“Didn’t Zata and Kexo lock you in the silo?”
Furrows develop on Jora’s brow. “A misunderstanding Lord I am sure they left your sow and little boars alone, I told them you would be displeased.”
I lay my free hand upon her back. “They didn’t Jora, they locked you and others in the silo and ate several of the little boars and were about to boil the sow when I returned.”
“They wouldn’t have … goblins from Head Hob visited, they said you hadn’t come back from the plateau.” With her dark eyes drilling deep into mine, she adds, “They must have believed you dead again Lord, it is the only reason. You and I will talk to them and clear this up once and for all.”
I rub her back. “They are dead Jora, I ordered them slain the moment I saw …”
She sits up screaming, which continues while her hands scratch at her own shaking head. A quiet thump and bump. A shape darts past my eyes and after I blink a stone knife sticks out of Jora’s eye socket and quiet returns to my cabin. I swallow as a set of arms catch Jora’s falling body and lifts her away, my eyes follow and after blinking I realise Milga Stone Blood is exiting my cabin.
Koria and Duzsia rush to my side and join Luda in embracing me as best they can. After an immeasurable time, another enters my cabin and not until Koria and Duzsia give way do I recognise the visitor.
“I am sorry for killing your third wife Lord, but madness cannot be allowed to survive. Zeb is burying her now so she can rest in the peace and release of death.”
I should feel something and yet I don’t. She did defend my authority against all odds, being jailed for her defiance and yet her mind or perhaps dehydration addled her sanity. Would she have recovered? Is this world so unforgiving? The faces of those I strangled give me my answer.
“Those bound to your service are unable to act unless ordered, I am sworn to protect you and therefore claim the liberty of acting upon my own judgement in your name.”
I hold up a hand. “What if your judgement is poor?”
“Then I expect you to punish me. In this case though regardless if you admit to yourself it is true or not, you cared little for your third wife, admiring her briefly for her stand yet if there was more, she would be big-bellied by now and as far as I can tell since your return from death you haven’t ploughed, let alone sown a single female with your seed.”
I struggle to sit, Luda falling behind me into the now vacant space on the bed. “You have been busy and learnt much.”
“We are a partnership greater than a married male and female for we can’t afford a great deal of forgiveness, each must do what they promise without exception, to maintain the bona fide faith between us. A deal is a deal and part of that is a secure place to give birth to and raise my daughter.”
Her poise and confidence are remarkable and yet if I get my hands upon her, she will die like any other goblin such is my strength. This single fact probably explains why she wishes to be in partnership with me.
“Your tribe couldn’t provide that security?”
“Family is important in the tribe, you see how Zeb Stone Grim, Koria Keen Eye and Luda are as one, protective of each other, supportive. Their father took on his daughter’s life debt to you. No more need be said. I have no family, Duzsia and I have that one thing in common, although I have earnt my name. She hopes in your service to gain hers, in the tribe to gain mine I needed to do more than others until I couldn’t be denied, despite further political interference.”
“I didn’t realise the importance of your tribal name,” I mumble. Koria, Luda and Duzsia are paying undivided attention, being schooled in fact by this bitter erudite master of tribal politics.
“The tribe elders barter between themselves names, betrothals, banishments and tribal kidnappings and probably other things I’m not aware of. I am well rid of them, because joining you I only have one to answer to and the more your pitiful villagers tell me, the more certain I am of my choice.”
I chuckle, unable to help myself. “Why do you wish to bed Zeb Stone Grim instead of your partner if you are so certain of me?”
She places her hands on my shoulders, we are face to face. “He is a goblin and whatever our union produces should slide out between my legs and I know I can train a goblin of good breeding to be my equal and that is enough. With you as partner whatever we conceive will probably rip me apart killing me, the newborn or both of us. I will leave that to the other three in this room as they have their own reasons to take on the risk.”
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Milga straightens, smiling. I wonder why then quickly close my wide-open mouth. I try to recover my poise by slapping Luda on her naked buttocks and quipping, “You hear that girls Milga Stone Blood considers you are of good stock.”
“Of course, only you hesitate, look at them and one is still unashamedly naked in your presence. Ask Koria about her name Lord, what you think may not be accurate.” She chuckles after.
My eyes land upon Koria in askance.
“I am Keen Eye, yes my arrow flies true but more importantly I notice the hidden, mark the different or the difference. You for example Lord. The 'you' before and the 'you' now are different although the same, which I tried to explain to the elders. They refused to believe a corpse could return to life and yet if your villagers are to be believed you have done exactly that, which is why capturing our spirits doesn’t seem so impossible for you.” She grabs my hand and kisses it. Luda’s hand strays across my back.
Milga saunters to the door. “Bar the door after I leave Duzsia, consider yourselves the Lord’s new wives and don’t let him out until he performs the duty of a husband. The hunting party is due back at dusk, so you have until then.”
I attempt to chase after the cheeky huntresses when Luda jumps upon my back, while her sister pushes against my chest and I end up back on the bed. In these few moments, Duzsia closes the door and lowers the crossbar. Except I believe I hear the bar land twice. Milga! She has dropped the outside crossbar as well! My attention needs to return to more immediate concerns as three pairs of hands are removing clothing, theirs, and mine …
---
Someone removes the outside crossbar to the door’s cabin with a large thump. There is no knocking or banging upon the door only silence and occasional snorts from the three asleep atop or beside me. A Hobgoblin or perhaps a Farmer Hobgoblin has an amazing libido and stamina to match, once decided upon such a course. I slap Koria on her bottom first and she wakes with a start, eyes wide open and then a smile after kissing my naked chest.
“Up and get ready I suspect the hunting party is about to return.”
She kisses my chest once more and rolls off the bed landing upon her feet. Standing naked she makes a show of scoping water from a bucket and washing her loins while running a tongue over her sharp teeth. I tear my eyes away from the temptation, the need to procreate is a genie now out of the bottle. Duzsia, I wake next, and like the innocent girl she is, turns bright green, her nakedness, mine, the other two, all of us, plenty of reasons. She skips off me bumping into a still naked Koria who catches her and offers the bucket of water. A moment of hesitation and Koria obliges by splashes water between the thighs of her sister-wife. The unfolding scene doesn’t encourage restraint within me, and I quickly lift Luda off me while sitting up myself. I then embrace her until she wakes shortly after.
“Hurry and get ready, the hunting party is due to return.” I lean forward to kiss her on a cheek, but she is quicker and turns her head and our lips meet instead.
She breaks our kiss. “I go only because you order me to.”
Due to their amorous attentions, I am the cleanest of us all and I hurry into my long leg pants before they tempt me to drag them down again. Shirt, belt and knife and I rush to the door and lift off the crossbar and without hesitation slip outside. I suck in deep breathes while leaning against an outside wall of my cabin, thankful the outside crossbar lies harmlessly to one side.
“Did you survive them Lord or did they survive you?”
“How long have you been lurking about Milga Stone Blood?”
She chuckles and slaps my shoulder. “I have been listening in case I needed some tips, my Lord.”
I feel a slight warmth upon my face and shake my head to try and dismiss the reaction. “Where is the hunting party?”
“Walk with me a few steps and we will be ideally placed to greet them,” she says.
The sun sets in the West and we are scanning the horizon to the South, none from the village join us.
“Know Lord your villagers fear you, although respect your strength. Those who were elsewhere, like the builders for example are suitably respectful based upon rumour alone, which has grown taller than the truth. One of those rescued from the silo claims to be a Head Goblin, his daughter your promised wife, I chose to believe him. He seems eager to meet and discuss certain things with you.”
A breeze rustles the saplings and their leaves in the light forest that border the farm.
“Did you plough any virgin ground, today Lord?”
I stare down at her. She chuckles and then breaks out into full-on laughter bending over and waving a hand at me. I wait for her to recover and reply in the best deadpan voice I can muster, “Yes, three times over, do you wish to be the fourth?”
Her mouth snaps shut. “No Lord, I have my consort. If I can ask a favour?”
I raise my eyebrows. “A favour?”
“Yes, it appears Zeb Stone Grim will not welcome my company unless his Lord commands him …”
Ah-ha! The penny drops, he doesn’t wish to take any chance and accidentally commit an offence against his Lord.
I cross my arms upon my chest and nod sagely. “I will need time to think, recent procreation has addled my mind …”
A humph and then she folds her arms. I chuckle.
“I will let him know tomorrow.”
Two arms wrap around my waist and a head nestles below my shoulder blades, two more limbs wrap around my left bicep and a final two wrap around my right bicep.
Squealing announces their arrival well before their appearance. Some of the distant saplings shake, an occasional one falls. There is an almost imperceptible shaking of the ground and I can’t help but shuffle my feet. The final forest bush obscuring the new arrivals falls away and two female goblins lead the way each holding a portion of the net. Behind the net trots a sow, behind the sow runs her squeakers then another sow and juveniles and so on. In all, four sows and young at various ages with nine female goblins cooperating to hold up the net. The Ten Spears skirt the perimeter, each hauling a full backpack, the resting female goblins trailing behind them.
When they see me stand before them, they hesitate for a moment only. Two of the Ten Spears peel off from escort duty and swing their packs down off their backs and bend a knee before me.
“We followed your example Lord and were successful beyond our wildest expectations. It was as if the boars didn’t acknowledge us as hunters, simply another animal in the forest thereby allowing us to control when and where to trap and slay.”
I place a hand on each of their shoulders. “Much has happened here as well, whatever you are told don’t dwell upon the stories and wonder, ask me directly and I promise to tell you the truth. Now rise and celebrate with your companions.”
They nod and leave their backpacks behind, the crafting rough and crude from fresh leather yet sufficient. I lift one to judge the weight and then hand it to Koria, the other I order Luda and Duzsia to share the burden.
“Take them to the kitchen cabin, perhaps a feast can be prepared?”
They nod and leave struggling with their loads.
“Milga with me, we will visit the boar pen.”
---
“Prepare to receive your Head Goblin, Lord, on your left. It seems our journey to the boar pen is to be interrupted,” whispers Milga.
True to her word, the Head Goblin of the Farmers with several escorts are making a beeline for me. I decide to wait, the position perfect, away from everywhere my cabin the closest building.
He nods. “Lord I wish to petition you for a favour.”
I reach out and grab his hand. “I heard of you and others equally loyal suffering in the silo. I am certain such a thing won’t ever happen again.”
“Thank you, Lord.”
I don’t release his hand as he expects, and he side glances to one of those with him before forcing a cough while I smile.
“Your petition?”
His eyes dart to my hand surrounding his before he speaks, “As you know two of your wives grew a rumour into a truth proclaiming you dead once again. During any absence, you need to appoint a second in command, one who has the respect of those on the farm and used to command. Able to make important decisions in your absence. Possibly one who can offer you a new wife, immediately?”
I release his hand and smile kindly at him and each of his escorts.
“I have someone in mind who matches each of your suggestions and be assured I will make an announcement shortly.”
“Thank you, Lord.” He bobs and bows several times as Milga and I walk off.
---
“How will he handle the disappointment?”
“I think he has his sphere of influence. The Head Goblin of the Builders of course has his own and Zeb Stone Grim will be able to manage both and the rest of the farm.”
---
We approach the boar pens from the fields, with fewer torches, and even fewer goblins. Just enough shadow. Most present are dancing and cavorting around an impromptu bonfire with generous portions of meat on offer.
I step forward out of the shadows and quietly approach the bonfire. All present stop what they are doing, some stare, several nod and others drop to one knee, nod and then rise.
“Enjoy your success, those returning from the hunt approach me in the next few days and ask for a favour or a boon to reward your success.”
A cheer erupts from the crowd and several goblins still in the barracks poke their heads through windows and sprint to join the party. I allow the cheering to subside of its own accord, allowing time for others to join.
“You may have noticed some new additions with me, they are my new friends, although the only one with an official title and duties to match is Zeb Stone Grim, Master of Children. He will ensure they attend lessons and not run wild appointing helpers as he sees fit.”
I pause waiting to see if any will speak, when none do or are brave enough to try, I continue.
“I have three new wives, their names are Koria Keen Eye, Luda and Duzsia. They have no authority to command or instruct anyone. I would expect you to assist them if they are in trouble or danger, otherwise, they can do their own fetching and carrying.”
Some murmuring hovers over the crowd.
“Speak if you have questions, I am only angry when I have been betrayed.”
A hand rises and when I nod in his direction he tries to speak. “L …Lord will you be taking any more wives and when will the seeding take place, there are many additional females with no partners.”
“My friends are from a tribe across the river and the male goblins there have no troubles seeding their wives to bear fruit. So, Zeb Stone Grim is Master of Children in more ways than one and he will service any females who wish to give birth.”
The same hand rises again, and I nod again. “Lord you don’t wish to farm them yourself. How will you make an heir?”
“I have three wives.” I finish with a wide smile.
His hand rises again. “Lord after seeding the entire village, while some bore your heir none survived how do you expect three to succeed where countless others failed?”
“They carry flesh upon their bones and are fit and healthy as will you all be soon enough. This meat is only a start, by planting our best seed I expect the harvest to be one of our best also. Enough grain to supply the Head Hob, with more than enough left over to ensure you can eat your fill every day instead of meagre portions.”
The crowd cheers up a storm. This time I calm them by waving them quiet.
“I also wish to announce, as a reward for his loyalty when my wives betrayed me and at the Head Goblin of Farmers Jotor’s request … I accept his daughter as my full wife.”
There is a knot of goblins moving about towards one goblin, I suspect others are congratulating the Head Goblin.
“Bring her forth so I may show her off!”
Female goblins deliberately surround another and shortly escort her to me. Any resistance taken as playful reluctance and as I hold out my hand, she realises her future now depends upon my goodwill. She takes the offer of my hand and even forces a cheery smile. I twirl her around and then placing a hand on each hip I lift her high for all to see. I end the show by lowering her to stand beside me and then bend down to give her a welcoming hug.
I whisper in her ear, “Any misbehaviour will result in a fatal punishment, either you or your father I don’t mind who.”
I straighten and address the crowd again. “It goes without saying, but I will anyway, Jotor remains my loyal and dependable Head Goblin of Farmers, while Redagar continues as my Head Goblin of Builders.” I pause a moment. “Further, in my absence, since I won’t bestow any authority, official or implied upon my wives I announce Zeb Stone Grim as my Speaker of Law.”
There is a modest amount of cheering in response – the silo survivors I suspect. The others I expect will take time to accept the unusual appointment. I could have waited until his teaching and seeding bore fruit but Jotor forces my hand. He would work behind the scenes to push his claim if the position remained vacant and when I found out, his death would be the next logical step. Then who will order the goblin farmers about?
I raise my hands high. “Dance, eat your fill, congratulate the hunters and enjoy this special night, the first of many I hope!”