Dauphin

Dauphin shook her head to clear the courtyard’s mud from her eyes and made out a flat nosed face, framed between pointy ears, leering at her. Cold gripped her heart and an uncontrollable tremble swept through her body at the sight of corpse-like blue-grey skin stretched over inhuman features.

As if sensing her feelings through some arcane sense the hobgoblin said, “You need not fear me little one.”

He strained forward, rattling the black iron chains binding his hands to the solid oak stake driven deep into the courtyard’s dark soil. “I am as solidly bound as you. Though I occasionally partake of human flesh, you are safe. For the moment.”

Dauphin shivered and moved as far away from the inhuman creature as her own stake and bindings would allow. She swallowed twice before words could leave her throat. “Where am I ?”

The corners of the hobgoblin’s mouth turned upward, exposing yellow teeth filed to needle sharpness. “We have the pleasure of being the guests of Baron Flakont, also known as the baron of blood.” The goblin strained again at his chains and startled a passing guard.

The baron of blood thought Dauphin. Is this his estate? Am I in Southern Cardaf?

She turned her head from side to side. Behind her in the center of the compound stood a grey tower crudely mortared together from roughly dressed stone. Around the perimeter of the yard ran a defensive wall of spruce and fir lashed together. Guards and archers manned a catwalk hanging from the inside of the wall.

All about the yard were the signs of the coming conflict. Militia units drilled under the smoke and sparks sent dancing into the night sky from dozens of forges. Brawny armed smiths and their apprentices hammered the notes of war ringing into the busy courtyard.

The hobgoblins voice, like the shriek of the ungreased wagon axle on the carriage that had brought her here, intruded on her thoughts. “You still have not told me your name little one.”

“Dauphin. My name is Dauphin.”

“I am Gorfang. Among my tribe I am what passes for, shall we say, a scholar. And why are you here Dauphin? What charms do you wield that compels the dear baron to take an interest in you? Eh? Speak girl.”

“I don’t know. I overheard them talking in the carriage after they grabbed me in the city. They seem to think I have some kind of power.”

“Power?”

The light of a keen and curious intellect blazed across the grey parchment-like skin and angular features of the goblin.

“What is the nature of your power?”

“I haven’t got any power. I’m just an ordinary girl.”

“I think not. The baron would not bother with an, ordinary, girl. Look about you. Are any of these creatures, what is the word you humans use? Commonplace ?

Dauphin twisted her head, sending her red hair spilling down her shoulders, and looked about the compound. Bound to stakes similar to her own, various creatures suffered. Here a centaur. There a griffin. Some she could not recognize and some she knew only from descriptions given her by the prioress at the abbey. But one thing she did know. They all use magic she thought.

The gates of the compound opened and a heavy wagon, pulled by large workhorses lumbered into the courtyard. In the back, under a heavy net, sat her faelin.

“Oh my poor faelin,” she said.

Your faelin ? The goblins eyebrows raised. What do you mean girl ? No one owns a faelin.”

“Well, I suppose hes not mine. But he let me ride him. Oh, they’re hurting him.”

A dozen guards wrestled the 4 legged winged creature from its net. Struggling to free itself it thrashed about, kicking with its sharp hooves and nipping with its deadly beak any guard that came too close.

“Girl, this is important.” The goblin spoke urgently, thrusting his words into the air like daggers. “ Where did you get this creature? Answer. Quickly, while the guards are out of earshot. Your freedom may depend upon it.”

Dauphin looked at the goblin. Could she trust him? No, goblins were the traditional enemy of humans. But how could telling him about the faelin harm her?

“Its no big deal. I was on my way to the city and I was tired and I wished I could ride. Suddenly I felt something licking at my hand and the faelin was just there. Will they hurt him? Please don’t let them hurt him.”

“So thats it.” The goblin whispered now. “A summoner. And a powerful one at that. But how did the baron know?”

“What’s a summoner?”

“Nevermind that now. Listen and do exactly as I say. If you want your freedom, or if you value the life of your friend.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Imagine a termite.You’ve seen one haven’t you? Think hard and see if you can draw a picture of one in your mind. Imagine it climbing the stake at your back. Picture it eating the rope binding your hands.

She closed her eyes and remembered the termites she had watched destroy her uncles crops when she was 5, in the year of the great famine. She imagined the pale slender bodies with the crescent pincers climbing the stake at her back, hungry, satisfying their insatiable appetite on the yellow hemp burning into her wrists.

Soon a white line of tiny insects exited the dark soil at the base of her stake and began to climb.

“Excellent whispered Gorfang. Now imagine them eating at the post that holds me as well. Then imagine hunger. Think of the best thing you’ve ever eaten. Think how good it tastes. How you can’t eat enough of it to get your fill.”

There was a disturbance in the courtyard.

The baron, a tall black haired bearded man, approached and stopped in front of the goblin. The moon glinted off his steel breastplate. A silver engraved sword hung from his left hip. “So, the great Gorfang, brought to heel at last. Not as hard to capture as my guards were told.”

“You’re a fool baron. Your life is forfeit once I have secured my release.”

The baron laughed. “Secured your release ? And just how do you intend to do that goblin ? You talk fancy for a beast chained to a post.”

Powerful muscles rippled under his rags as the goblin strained forward. The post exploded in a swirling mass of dust and flying termites. A nightmarish vision of a blue grey fiend blurred over the baron. A moment latter the vision cleared and a black chain now encircled the baron’s neck, twisted tight by bony goblin hands.

“Tell your guards to back off and release the girl.”

“Back off fools,” hissed the baron to the onrushing guards.

“Now have your lackeys return my grimoire and give it to the girl.” The goblin twisted the chain tighter.

“Do it fools. Before he kills me,” said the baron.

The guards brought a large white rectangular book from the keep and gave it to Dauphin. “Open it to the 96th page,” commanded the goblin.

Dauphin opened the pale skin covered book to page 96. A drawing of a pale blue oval, surrounded with twisting symbols that seemed to dance before her eyes, dominated the parchment. Dauphin shivered, uneasy at the feel of the strange leather that contacted her fingers and the way the oval seemed to shimmer, as if it might leap from the page at any moment.

Dauphin held the book up before Gorfang’s eyes and he peered intently at the symbols, then began to chant in what she assumed was the language of the goblins.

“Ag norog, ag corflain, ag barul, said the goblin.”

A pale blue portal, a bigger version of the one etched in the grimoire, formed in the courtyard. All the creatures and guards fell silent as the portal cast it’s eerie blue glow over the stone walls of the keep and the frightened faces of the guards. This was magic of the first order. Only an archmage could summon the door between the worlds thought Dauphin.

Gorfang backed towards the portal, still gripping tight the black solid chain under the barons beard about his neck. He looked at Dauphin and grinned, his yellow teeth and pale skin bathed in the eerie glow of the portal. “Coming little one?”