When Goblins Rage (Book 3) (11 page)

“Ain't got no more, Eli,” Ffloyd sighed, upending an empty bottle. He looked around mournfully at the other empty bottles lying around the counter. A man alone in a graveyard of friends. “All out, fuck it.”

Half-rising from his stool, Eli narrowed his eyes to slits. Put his hand on one of his knives and cocked his head in the cook's direction. “I say you are my friend, Ffloyd,” he said softly. Voice brittle. “And this is how you treat me? It is not tolerable. What kind of place do you call this? A place which has food, but no wine? I have not heard of such a place.”

“Well-”

“You will bring me wine!” Eli roared. The knife flashed, driving deep into the table. Almost all the way through. The elf felt the impact of the strike wash up from the floor. She raised an eyebrow, but the mercenary was thundering at the cook. “And you will bring it to me! And if you bring it to me quickly, then we will always be friends. We will be friends until the end of days. This, I swear. But if you do not bring wine to go with my meal, then we will have a disagreement. And when friends disagree, it is a bloody and regrettable day. You know what I am saying? And I would not like this, Ffloyd. Because I am a peaceful man.”

“Keep your fucking shirt on, Eli.” Ffloyd's eyes rolled in his sockets and he snatched the rag as though it might protect him from Eli's fury. “I'll go next door. Shit.”

Eli's grin was sudden. He nodded happily as he wriggled the knife free. Used it to point at the old chef. “You see? This is why we are friends. You always do the right thing.”

“Fuck you, Eli.”

When he was gone, Eli flopped back down and shovelled a mouthful of beans. Chewed noisily, eyes glittering as he stared at her.

For her part, she ate more quietly but with equal hunger. Her stomach crawled like a beggar inside her belly. The kind of hunger she'd felt many times on the street as a child.

Something about that hunger should have bothered her. Should have made her worry. But curls of mist encircled her brain, turning her fears to smoke. Almost as though something was there.

Inside her. Allowing only the most simple of thoughts. Focussing her concentration in other directions.

Such as directly at the man in front of her.

She frowned, pausing as she lifted a spoon to her mouth.

“I hear you've been around, Nysta,” Eli said, twisting her mind from what she'd been about to think. “First, I hear you are in Orkskar. That you come from Grimwood Creek, where there has been no good news for many months. Then you are here, in Tannen's Run. But quickly, you are gone again. Then I hear you are south. All the way to Highwall you go. Then west. East again. North. South. You are like a beetle. You know the kind of beetle I am talking about? The kind which has no idea where she is going. But she keeps moving. Here. There. Everywhere. And you leave a remarkable trail, my friend. I see goblins. Many goblins. Humans, too. A troll. Maybe an ork. I could not tell. Thanks to the Draug, there was so much missing off him. But mostly goblins. And not just one mob. Many mobs. And I wonder to myself, do you follow the little greenskins? To what purpose? Are you trying to depopulate the Deadlands of all its goblins? I find this a noble cause. I mean, who would not? They are little more than cowardly bastards. But then I begin to wonder, maybe it is the other way around. Maybe the goblins do the chasing? And if they do follow her, then I wonder why she does not just move away? Or make her stand? Why does she still go this way and that way like a frightened beetle? And then I think about all those humans. The Caspiellans. The Fnords. And even half-breeds. No purpose to these deaths. mercenaries. Traders. A mage. And now even families. Children, also. And I wonder what it is they did to anger my very good friend. Perhaps now we meet here, you could share your thoughts?”

The elf felt a trickle of sweat slide down the back of her neck. And though she kept her eyes on her bowl as she scooped up more of the spiced beans, the elf's attention was firmly on his hands.

Waiting for him to go for his knives.

Her muscles, bunched and taut, ready to move.

“How long have you been following me, Eli?”

“Ah, Nysta. You make it sound like I did a terrible thing. Let us just say I have been sometimes over your path.”

“Bullshit, Eli.” The cold fury bit deep into her guts. “If that were true, you'd have learned something which might keep you alive.”

He couldn't hide his confusion. “What is that?”

The elf's lip curled dangerously. “Not to cross me.”

CHAPTER TEN

“Ah, my friend. Again you misunderstand.” Eli wagged his finger and smiled. But his eyes were cold. Searching. Looking for something in her own. “Let us not move this conversation backwards. We already did the threats at the beginning. I am sure you remember them. We will just call this a passing curiosity, yes?”

The elf felt the skin between her shoulders ripple and a surge of hot anger bubbled in her belly. “Ain't sure I can see why anything I do is any of your business, Eli.”

“I assure you, my friend, it is not my business.” The manic grin was beginning to really irritate her. Which was probably why he kept it on his face. “Not at all. Kill anyone you like. But a few weeks ago, I come to a farm. And there is a goblin there. Dead, of course. He is pinned to the wall on a spike. And in the house is a young man. His throat cut open from ear to ear. A messy thing to see so soon in the morning, I assure you. I had to work very hard not to lose my breakfast. I spend some time looking at the body of that young man, and soon I notice something which maybe is not so strange. He has lost something of great value. I can see this clearly. Someone has removed this thing from him. He must have worn it around his neck, because the mark is left on his throat where the young man's killer tore it free. I am moved by his loss. And I say to myself, I will find what is taken from him. And I will have it returned.”

She looked up at him. Saw something in his eyes she couldn't quite place.

But whatever it might have hinted, was quickly smothered as he pulled the grin tighter.

“Doesn't sound like you, Eli,” she said softly. “Figured you more for the kind who'd be taking the belongings of a dead man. Not giving them back. Sounds like you're getting too close to all these dead bodies. Maybe too close, uh?”

“What?” He forced surprise into his voice. “You don't think a man like Eli can be honourable? I tell you, Nysta, I am the most honourable man in the whole of the Deadlands. You ask anybody. I challenge you to find one single person out there who would say different. And if that person does, you can be sure I will open their bellies and stuff their guts down their lying throats!”

“Then you'd wear out those knives of yours.” The elf snorted. “Anyone I ask would tell me you were a liar. And a thief. An insane fucking killer with the heart of a Draug. And the appetite to match. And they'd only say that because they'd be too polite to call you what you really are.”

“That is not a very nice thing to say about a man, Nysta.”

“Ain't talking about a man, Eli. We're talking about you.”

He scowled. “You know me better than that.”

“Eli. I can't say I know you very fucking well at all. And to be honest, I can't say I really give a shit. You can be honourable if you want. Be a fucking dirt farmer for all I care. But your hand ain't moving far from your knife while you talk shit about some feller who died out in the Deadlands. Well, from where I sit, that means nothing to me.”

“He did not deserve to die worse than a dog.”

“Who does? Eli, this is the fucking Deadlands. It's a mean place. Meaner than the streets of Lostlight, by all accounts. And if he lived out here in the middle of it, then he knew what he was risking. If he didn't, then he was too stupid to live out here anyway.” She pointed her spoon at his nose. “But you know what? I don't think any of that even matters. I think you're pushing me. Pushing for something. And I don't much like being pushed. Reckon you know that much about me. So I'm only gonna tell you just the once. Don't push me. Because I ain't like the rest of them out there. I won't put up with your shit just because of your reputation. Sure, I know you're good, Eli. But I ain't the kind to just roll over and give you what you want. I'll push back. And push back hard. You won't like it. So, you either go for those knives at your waist and give it your best shot. Or shut the fuck up. Eat your beans. And then get the fuck out of my face.”

He froze.

Eyes narrowed and rage burned bright in the coal pits. She could see the tension in his face as he weighed his chances.

And she wondered if he'd do it. If he'd try to kill her.

All the people she'd met in the Deadlands. The mercenaries. The soldiers. Guards and hunters. Natural born killers all of them. And of them all, only Eli had impressed her.

Because he could do it.

Without seeing him in action, she realised he matched her speed. Her skill. If she was just a fraction of a second too slow to pull her blade, he could kill her.

And when Eli looked at her, she knew he saw the very same thing. Someone who'd have just as much chance to kill him.

So she knew without doubt that the fear which burned in her guts also infected his veins. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. His left eye twitched.

And, slowly, he relaxed.

Picked up the spoon he'd discretely set aside.

Dipped it into the cooling stew.

And shook his head. “You know, Nysta. You say I am pushing you. But most of the time it is you who does the pushing. And we say these things to each other every time we meet. We trade our threats. We make our insults. And yes, my friend, we trade out jokes. Almost a tradition, yes? But one day, the laughing must stop. The words must no longer be spoken. And all we will have is the sound of our blades. On that day, I wonder which of us will be alive to speak of it.” His grin was slow to form. Deliberate and wolfish. But his eyes still carried the feral echo of his rage. “But you are lucky, my friend. Because today is not that day. Today you are lucky to witness Eli's generosity. Today you will not die on the floor of Ffloyd's.”

“Sure, Eli,” she said lightly, pushing at the oppressive weight of their shared distrust. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“It is the truth. You know it is so.”

“All I know is you want something, Eli. Ain't sure what it is. But if what you said is the truth, and you're looking for some trinket taken from some dead farmboy? Then I ain't got it. If I did, I'd tell you. Because I ain't ashamed of anything I do. Not anymore. I lost that part of me a long time ago.”

His gaze remained hard for a moment. Then softened. “Maybe I did not believe you had anything to do with the death, Nysta. Maybe I just wanted to be sure. But we will speak no more of it. Not yet. Instead, we will speak of other things.”

“We got anything more to talk about, Eli?”

He continued smoothly. “You know I hear the Grey Jackets came to Grimwood Creek. First slaughtered every Fnord in the town they could find. At least, those who could not run away. Every ork. It is said they killed even the children. But then someone else came. Killed all the soldiers. A mage, they say. Who shot lightning from his fingers and summoned an army of undead demons to eat every Caspiellan in the place. I like him already. But he wasn't alone. It is said he was with a woman. A beautiful woman with an enchanted weapon. A woman who fought like the Shadowed Gates were opening on her heel.”

“Army of demons.” The elf snorted, refusing to meet his eye. “Sounds like bullshit.”

“I went there,” he said. “I saw what remained. It is not bullshit. There is no town at Grimwood Creek anymore. It is just rubble. And the bodies of the dead still litter the ground. Even the Grey Jackets have not stayed to bury their own. The Draug will have full bellies this Winter.”

Again she snorted. She'd been unable to get back into the town to retrieve
A Flaw in the Glass
. Had been pushed back by the arrival of more soldiers than she could count as an army of Grey Jackets had swarmed up from the south.

Still bitter at leaving without her knife, she remembered her last look at the town. The heavy walls had still been standing. She figured Eli was fishing for something. Didn't believe for a second he'd gone to Grimwood Creek.

“Coming from your mouth, it still sounds like bullshit to me, Eli.”

“But Highwall is not bullshit,” he said, leaning forward intently. Eyes studying every twitch in her expression. “Just three weeks ago, it was turned to dust. And Ragefire, too. Dust. Again, I have been there. Not a stone is standing. And no survivors, Nysta. Not one. But I read the signs. An army of Grey Jackets is loose in the Deadlands. A rabid army drunk on the blood of those they destroy. And many claim to have seen it. Can you explain these things, my friend? They must be related, I am thinking. The Grey Jackets hunt. They are Rule's hounds. His dogs. They search for something here. That much even a fool can see. And what do they search for? Revenge. I think they want this mage very much. And the woman who was with him. I think they will kill every living thing here to get them. And not much motivates a Grey Jacket better than chasing after someone they think is Tainted.”

“Could be Grey Jackets made it to Grimwood Creek,” she allowed. “Could be there was fighting. But you really think they'd chase someone all over the Deadlands in this weather? For what?”

He shook his head. “The town was destroyed, Nysta.”

“If it was destroyed, then they destroyed it.”

“It is not what is said,” he argued. “It is said the mage was a very powerful bastard. I know if I was a Grey Jacket, I would want to see him dead. I would want her dead, too. I would want it very much indeed.”

“But you ain't a Grey Jacket,” she countered. “So someone got into Grimwood Creek after they took it. So someone killed a bunch of fellers there. It ain't reason enough to tear up the Deadlands. You don't march an army across this doomed shithole for two people. That's overkill. Stupid. If they're here, it's just war finally coming. Plain and fucking simple. Could be Rule finally decided it was time to make his move. I mean, nothing's stopping him. Grim's deep in the ground.”