---Gorgrin, Blood Oath Follower POV
“I didn’t need your help. A few more words and…”
“Pfft!” she spits. “The one in the middle wanted your death, otherwise why bring armed company?”
Far right and far left, my brother’s two bodyguards lay out cold upon the stone shelf of my special place, unconscious from precise blows to the back of the head instead of dead. Her handiwork. My arm is around my brother’s neck while holding up his sleeping body, my handiwork. The felling of his bodyguards was enough of a distraction for me to spring forth and grapple him into submission instead of pushing a blade through his heart. Possibly, my last brotherly favour to him.
She removes a leather cylinder from about her neck and thrusts the container towards me. What I have been waiting for, I am certain. “My mission was to hand this to my Lord’s sworn follower, Gorgrin, and tell him to return.”
I release the headlock on my brother and allow his body to slide to the stone to join his conspirators. My eyes inspect the three sleepers. “What of these?”
“You have an important dinner to attend to and a land grant to award. I will take care of these…” Dagger in hand, she waves the weapon over the sleepers as I receive the long-awaited missive from her other hand.
Tapping the cylinder on one palm, I ask, “You won’t murder them, will you?”
“They are your foes, are they not? If you let them live now, won’t they seek revenge in the future?”
Her smirk irritates. Her lithe female body is an abomination yet alluring because I have seen none like it before. Most annoying, though, is her air of confidence.
“One is still my brother…” My words are frail and weak as I realise her cold, hard truth. My brother is here only because I pushed him to the ground in front of everyone, especially females. His stalking of me to my place of solitude deliberate and calculating. His intent? To make me pay in some way, for his embarrassment, his loss of reputation.
She chuckles and I focus on her face, trying to read her intent or meaning.
“Is sleeping between males taboo in your Clan?” My face screws up. What is she asking? “Do males have sex together?” she blurts out, trying to hold back laughter.
“No! Of course not.” I feel my shoulders square up as I straighten my posture. “There is an abundance of females to sate any male’s lust.”
She props a hand on her hip and shakes her head. “Inclination and abundance, doesn’t exclude one from the other.”
What is she talking about? The males of this Clan have many or had many females to meet their demands. So, what else is there?
She pouts and in a playful, childlike voice says, “Never mind. One day, you will work it out.” Then there is a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, despite dusk darkening our surroundings. “Leave them to me. I am certain others will find them alive and well, although they may wish themselves dead.”
My eyes drink in her abnormal female shape, well-defined muscle groups and long black hair in a single plait. She isn’t a soft, male dependant female of Clan Beastbane, that is certain. Her soft leather pants and tunic, both black, hug her body, complementing her dark green complexion. A creature of the night and shadows who, I am confident, would revel in committing any and all skulduggery under its cover. She sheaths her clean dagger. How easily could blood coat the blade, instead? Is she death? Where did my Lord find such a creature?
I shake off any misgivings. Her loyalty is a given, as is mine. Sparing a last glance for each of her toys, I hurry away. I abandon my brother to her without guilt. He played his hand and lost. Never will I return to this stone slab and this realisation hits me harder for reasons I can’t explain or admit. Slowing for a moment, I need to wipe something out of my eyes. Shortly after, I hasten towards the manor to complete my Lord’s business at tonight’s dinner.
---
The servants clearing the long table is a signal of sorts to my father, who stands and takes one last long look about the room.
“I know your brother would have enjoyed making this announcement, but in his absence, I am more than willing to do so myself.” As he kicks back his chair and rises, his eyes find mine. Cold, hard, and unforgiving, as is his way. “At first light, I will consider your Lord delinquent, our agreement null, and make a claim on Lord Torngul for compensation. What say you?”
I slap the leather cylinder on the table. My attempt at the dramatic succeeds as all eyes, including those of the servants, are on me. I lean over the table, the fingers of my hands steeple, propping up my arms on either side of the container of the unknown.
“Contained within is your land grant, father. Once proven to your satisfaction, do I then have your leave to fulfil my obligations to my Lord and guide his property to him?”
He flicks a hand at one of my other brothers. His chair scrapes back as he stands. One last glance towards my father and he advances towards me. Close enough, he stretches out his hand. I straighten and step back while sweeping my hand over the prize. He leans forward, grabs the cylinder, and then hurries back to my father. Was that me not so long ago?
I raise my empty glass to a servant while waiting. She fills the glass with a full-bodied red wine and a warm smile. The delay is because my father is trying to connive and rework his agreement with my Lord and not appear to be spiteful or petty, simply trying for appearance’s sake to gain more benefit for the Clan. Unfortunately, for my father, Izga, my Lord’s assassin assured me, that the parchment within contains detailed instructions with rights and obligations in plain words.
As my father’s face turns bright green to near glowing, I know he is almost done. My brothers around the table notice as well, of course, and shy away from the impending explosion.
“Begone at dawn. You and his property can break their fast when well away from this Clan’s Manor. They will forever be outcasts.” There is a simmering growl to his voice. Far more tempered than I thought possible. His chair clattering to the floor and his stomping from the room is his last hurrah. My family shuffles out of the room shortly after and I am alone unless you count several servants who still line the walls waiting at attention.
I hold my empty glass up, and shortly after, I am once again sipping.
First one, then another, kneels beside me. Emboldened by the first two and my failure to scold them, the other four gather around me.
“Lord?”
I hold up a hand. “I am no Lord. An honoured servant perhaps, but no Lord.”
Her trembling voice is all the sweeter as she continues, “What direction will you be leading your Lord’s property out of Clan lands?”
There are several paths, although they all fade to nothing a short distance from the manor as the various hunting parties who use them scatter to favoured hunting grounds. The one exception is the indirect stream path, which merchants take to avoid getting lost when seeking to trade with the Clan.
“We will chase the sun, a direct line west until we find the river and then south until we find the new settlement of my Lord.” I take another sip, savouring the wine and my next task. I can finally share good news to brighten their waiting faces.
A head nuzzles my thigh. “Would you welcome or shun others, if they happened, by accident, of course, to come across your herd?”
I push my chair back with a loud scrape. “Your Clan Head has already nominated those he considers my Lord’s. I, on my Lord’s behalf, could not knowingly accept others.”
As I leave the room, my ears pick up on their excited chatter. It seems they have correctly interpreted the meaning of ‘not knowingly’.
---
After dinner, I visit each campsite with a torch in hand to push back the night. I loiter with every huddle of female hobgoblins waiting before the Clan Manor House and inform them we leave at dawn and will need to worry about breaking our fast when well away. There is concern. Some hold this within, others ask questions and as I visit the last camps, I know my news and answers have arrived before me. The gentle din of preparation and packing lingers behind me as I return to the manor. I need to pack all my worldly goods. I realise, I think for the first time, that my fate lies beyond my Clan and from now on has nothing to do with the will of my father.
---
I force march my Lord’s herd well into the morning before I allow them to rest only because we can do so beside a gurgling brook that flows across our path. After drinking my fill and topping up my waterskin, I dangle my bare feet in the cool running water. None of my Lord’s property approaches me. They await my orders and keep their distance even though during the days of waiting I thought they got to know me and I them. I shake my head and then, to my surprise, a gaggle crowd around me.
Their ages vary, some mothers, others ripe for motherhood. Five in total.
“Who is she?” asks one.
I blink. “Who is who?”
“The skinny one. The one who demands and slaps down any who doesn’t give her what she wants.”
Another adds, “She is a stranger amongst us, a wretched, confused creature, a male female hobgoblin.”
“Izga?” I ask.
“She doesn’t say her name, except she claims she is a wife of Lord Klar and what belongs to him is hers for the taking.”
“What is she taking?”
“Claws,” several of them answer as one.
“Claws?” I furrow my brow. “Where is she now?”
I draw my feet out of the stream, shaking them. Before I can do anything else, a couple of my Lord’s females wipe my feet and begin lacing up my boots around them. As I observe their attentions, they blush bright green.
Stomping my boots and nodding, much to their relief I wander off in the direction they are all pointing towards.
---
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“What are you doing?”
She nods towards another lump of wood, and I hunch down and draw back some cut, leafy branches to reveal a club. Although protruding from one end are five claws, as if they always belonged, embedded.
“You know, acquiring the claws for your hobby has angered most of your husband’s future concubines?” She doesn’t seem to react, too busy. “What do you intend to do with these?”
“Most whined the claws were tokens of love from their hunter consorts or fathers of their children, precious and to part with them would break their hearts.” She spares me a glance. “Yet, none fought me or even forced me to wrestle them free from their hands.”
“You told them you were Lord Klar’s wife. They would have been too afraid to defy you.”
Her light chuckling and swishing of her head from side to side is a denial?
“I only said that when almost done, because one of them asked, ‘who do you think you are’ and I told them. After that, they simply handed me what I asked for. Before, I needed harsh words and intimidation, but none fought to resist me. My husband is certain to be disappointed.”
Now, I am confused. “They are docile. They will do their Clan Head or Lord’s bidding. How can this be disappointing?”
“You have travelled with Nudia?”
I nod.
“Did she seem docile and eager to do her Lord’s bidding? Did she also think for herself?”
“She certainly wanted his seed!”
She is about to wave her hand at me. Instead, she rests her hand on her knee and exhales a deep sigh. “What did Lord Klar see in you?”
Her eyes are skyward. Did she just insult me then? “What do you mean by that?” I growl while taking a step forward, ensuring my shadow crosses over her, completely forgetting she is a creature of the night and shadow.
“You realise you are the only male. The only non-wife Lord Klar has included in his grand plan?”
This rocks me back onto my heels. I never gave my unique honour a single thought. How can I be the only male? Why? What did Lord Klar see in me? Initially, I thought he wanted to annoy my father by stealing one of his bastard sons, but what would that achieve? Did he want a powerful male to protect him? Yet, this skinny female youth dealt with my brother’s bodyguards with skilful ease. Then why?
“I see you are hurting your brain, so perhaps I can offer some insight?”
Her cheeky smile almost brings us to blows, and then I recover my control. “Go on,” I growl, trying to recover my smarts and my manhood.
“You are of Clan Beastbane. You know their ways, their skills. The females are from Clan Beastbane. If they were males, how would you be treating them?”
That is easy to answer! “Their fathers would teach them bushcraft. Tracking and then hunting,” my smug reply.
“You better get started then. There is one of you and many of them and first you need to teach them they are no longer Clan Beastbane females but Lord Klar’s concubines and as such, he expects them to meet his ambition.”
I cough. “But they are females…”
“I am a female and yet I am certain I could beat you in an unfair fight and, for that matter, a fair fight.”
I scoff and then draw back my lips, remembering how she dealt with my brother’s guards. “What makes you so certain?”
“I have fed on Lord’s Klar’s seed and utterly believe in his future, willing to sacrifice my life if necessary. The females of this herd, when seeded by Lord Klar, will also awaken to his truth, and that is where you come in. You must train them in the ways of Clan Beastbane, while my fellow wives will train them to wield weapons and survive combat.”
I chuckle. “Are we going to war or something?”
Her fists clench and her biceps tense. Is she going to punch me?
“We are going to peace. But preparing for war.” She tilts her head; I assume, waiting for me to think this through. I have nothing. “Why do you think Nudia clung to Lord Klar?” Her yell of frustration cuts my salacious smile short. “Beyond the obvious!”
She wanted something, of course. What did she want? For herself his seed was obvious. Something for her tribe?
“She wanted something for her tribe?”
“Finally.” She places her second claw club next to the first and catches my eyes with hers. “You could say this another way. She found in Lord Klar a way to advance her plans.”
My mind awakens, but there is a wrinkle. “Why fawn after his seed once she gained his trust?”
Her smile descends into depravity for a moment. Why does she get away with such low thoughts? “His seed is its own reward but from aligning with Lord Klar, he has seeded her tribe and they are now all but free, only nominally his slaves for appearance's sake, so the entire valley doesn’t unite and punish all involved in the deception. But don’t forget she is following her plan and once Lord Klar goes too far, his way or becomes unnecessary, then differences may come to harsh blows.”
“Female goblins? And by your reckoning, they should be our Lord’s loyal subjects because they swooned over his seed.”
“Over four hundred like-minded, united by persecution, blood fanatical female goblins who also have an unknown number of goblin mercenary companies plying their trade beyond this valley and have been for years.”
What have I bound my future too? I survey the camps and try to remember their numbers from the visits while they waited on the field before Clan Beastbane manor. There are at least three hundred. Of those, best case, two hundred would be of fighting age if they agreed to be trained. I assume they have a choice? Do they?
Shoulders back, I take a step towards the centre of the camp. No time like the present to assess, especially since we are well away from goblin ears.
“Don’t you want to know?” she calls out.
I look back over my shoulder and spy the clubs. “Yes.”
“While you have been cooling your feet, I have been scouting. We are being stalked by several hunting parties, courtesy of your father, I think. Anyway, tonight I will visit a few and pretend to be a beast. I suspect some claw wounds will be required.”
“Don’t kill any of them. I don’t want to leave a trail of bodies behind us and provoke my father.”
She shrugs. “While I will try my best, no promises. I believe your father has already breached any supposed peace. What does he hope to gain from harassing our leaving?”
“He is angry and doesn’t know why, given the deal is done, exactly as he agreed. He isn’t used to win-win deals.”
“Or.” She smiles while licking her lips. “He or others in the Clan found your brother and his bodyguards in a less than acceptable embrace against the cold.”
I want to ask, but then I don’t want to ask. With a grunt, I decide that is in the past. The future is more important and I resume my march towards the centre of the camp with a determination of purpose. A face distracts me. When I try to find the face again, I can’t. Several tents of familiar faces contain one or two unknown faces, and my steps drag. I shake off my doubts, raise my hands and call all to me.
---Clan Head Sakvorpa POV
As I turn, the cold steel of his dagger presses against my ribs. “Backwards please.”
Shuffling back in silence, I still wonder what we are waiting for. The death of his partner, notwithstanding, I am certain he intends to escape with his life, but how? How am I still alive and not already a corpse? I feel a familiar shiver and numbness. From these signs, I realise this show is the oldest of all time. I place my hand over my mouth to stifle a cough.
The doors to my Throne Room crack open. A familiar slim hobgoblin figure slips through and the doors close behind them. After some scrutiny, they land upon me and my assailant. He positioned us in the corner where the wall with the fireplace and the wall with the doors meet. The last place it would seem anyone first entering this room inspects, especially if they desire to sit on the throne.
“You are still too young, daughter. You reach above yourself.”
“Says she, who in one mission has devastated our position amongst the Clan Heads. We live now because no one knows the true extent of your failure.”
I nod towards my intruder. “His like takes preparation, planning. Are you telling me you knew days or weeks ago I would fall far enough for you to sweep in and take over? Are you that good at reading the future?”
She smiles. “I will admit to some convenience, but to cut a long story short, I have made an alliance.”
I go to speak and need to draw a deep breath instead. My hands reach for my throat, I loosen the collar of my finely tailored shirt. I gulp for air while dropping to my knees.
My daughter approaches me and drops to her haunches as I now sprawl across the stone floor labouring for breath. She lifts my chin, stares into my eyes, and says, “I think I am ready.”
Her mouth forms an O and from her throat, a squeak issues and then the light from her eyes fades. I withdraw the long hairpin from her ear, the round length of silver now black with her blood.
“This is awkward,” he says as I feel the press of his dagger at my ribs, a short thrust away from my heart.
“The two-part poison on the parchment, your idea or hers?” I ask while drawing my knees under myself to rise to his height, somewhat surprised when he allows me to. He must believe I am his only chance of escaping death and, therefore, decided to play nice as his first gambit.
“Carrying the antidote to that exact poison luck or foreknowledge?”
I slowly crane my face about to meet his. “I carry the antidote to all my Clan’s poisons on me, just in case. Although some, due to long and conditioned exposure, I am immune to.” I can’t keep the pride I feel out of my voice and, in the end, embrace my achievement.
---Lord Klar POV
“Who or what are you really, Lord?” asks Nudia, her eyes searching within the depths of mine.
Behind Nudia, Luda vigorously shakes her head. Asking who I am, I could, with confidence, explain away. Luda’s sad eyes are begging me. Asking what I am suggests a deeper suspicion. Luda’s eyes fling wide open as I am certain the furrowing of my brow and the setting of my chin clearly hints; that I need to find a drastic solution. My seeding of their entire tribe was the first clue. The widespread abnormal health qualities were the next and finally, Luda’s recovery from certain death was the last proof. While the telling of how, not the entire truth, the way we explained, suggested miraculous survival from near death. Three coincidences, one too many.
Nudia’s head tilts to one side. She is smart enough to recognise my change in mood from my facial changes.
Before I can decide on a solution, my hand is around her throat, her eyes bulging an instant after. Luda's hands join Nudia’s, trying to release my iron grip.
“Lord, you can’t slay her. How would you explain her death? Nudia found us a perfect home. This is a moment of shared triumph.”
My heartbeats tick by while Nudia’s face darkens before me, the light in her eyes fading. Not long after, her hands flop down, and her body goes limp.
“Lord, how can you explain her death? Her entire tribe will ask why. Lord!”
I feel her slap and my face snaps around. Tears roll down her face. While inside me, deep down is a genuine heartfelt satisfaction I haven’t tasted for an extremely long time. The joy of throttling of a goblin to death. Is this how I truly feel or is this his feeling? But, he has been quiet for so long.
My reaction to this dilemma makes no sense. Sure, Nudia presented a threat, but accidents could and do happen… Then his boisterous laughter rises from the depths of my soul. My inner Hob roars back into my existence, choosing his moment. Her question unsettled me, my mind busy thinking through denials and solutions, a plausible escape from her accusation which would not only satisfy her but also her entire tribe of four hundred. He reached from his silent depths to shatter my indecision.
Before Luda can slap me again, I press my lips to Nudia’s and exhale a breath into her lungs. Straightening, I push down on her chest and then breathe down her throat again. My inner Hob salivates, revelling in my desperation. I repeat. Her body remains limp. I curse my inner Hob and repeat. Several cycles of breathing and pushing down upon her chest pass and I rest. Luda immediately takes over.
Perhaps I have crushed her throat? Twisted her neck? Do I know the limits of my strength? Do I perfectly recall my actions when he propels me into action? My inner Hob rejoices.
“Lord Farmer Hob, I am returned to you. Koria Keen Eye has much to confess.”
My inner Hob and I didn’t expect the return of my last wife and the shock of her reincarnation sends him scrambling into hiding once more. My arms fold around Nudia’s body in a gentle embrace. I blink my eyes to sweep away the beginnings of a tear in contrast to Luda, who openly sheds many.
Nudia’s arms flex and her legs kick out. “Release me, murderer! What have you done to me? Get this other out of my head!”
I fling Nudia’s body away. In jerks and starts, it attempts to crawl away, failing as a leg, and then an arm strikes out in a random direction, causing a collapse. The body’s head bit by determined bit turns to face me. Through gnashing teeth, words escape. “Seed. This. Body. Lord. We fight…” The head turns away with a snap, the body collects itself to once again crawl.
“Koria and Nudia in the one body, Lord?” asks Luda, her face almost white.
Did I murder Nudia, summon Koria and then revive Nudia? How could Koria answer so quickly?
“Now, Lord.” While I have been busy trying to make sense of this impossibility, Luda has dragged Nudia’s now stripped body before me. There is no alluring mystery, no romantic interlude, she is naked and where I must service, clear and available.
---
We lay on the vibrant green grass covering the hillock, gazing into the west. The three of us are content to watch the bright orange globe of the sun sink slowly below the horizon. The stream flowing over the ford below us gurgles a relaxing tune while Luda lays in the embrace of my left arm, and Nudia nee Koria lays in the embrace of my right arm.
After a while, I ask a question. “Is Nudia still present?”
“She is an inner voice, angry one moment, sad the next.” Koria’s reply is wistful and, I suspect, uncaring. After all, who is Nudia to her? Do I miss Nudia?
“I know the feeling, although mine is perhaps less on feelings and more on impulses.”
“Lord?” asks Luda.
“A long story for another time.” I curl my left arm to squeeze Luda in a reassuring hug. My head turns towards Nudia. “How did you know my seed would give you control of her body?”
“I am your wife, was your wife, became your wife again. Have birthed your child. Your seed belongs to me when given, not her. The ultimate proof, her unborn, responded to me. This broke her more than any other single thing.”
I stare up at the stars. Should I ask?
“How did you arrive… so quickly?”
Her hand drifts across my face, cupping my cheek. “My spirit or soul lingered in this world after your last death summons… I didn’t want to return to the black.”
The sadness in her words is obvious to me and given Luda nestles deeper into my arm, I am certain she senses the same in her sister. Exchanging no further words, we agree to a long silence.