Northern Barrier Range

Mikkin felt something hard obnoxiously jab him; a sharp pain forced his sleepy eyes to open. Gobelins swarmed his camp. He and Jamie were surrounded. The smell alone left him gagging.

"Up!" shouted the one who kicked him. He frowned but followed its orders, sitting up. It grunted something to the others, and several of the little urchins rushed forward to bind his hands. He looked over at Jamie; the lad's wide eyes met his. This certainly complicated things.

He and Jamie were in the forests of the Northern Barrier Range in search of dragons. When his home and family were reduced to ash, Mikkin struck out in search of the beasts who destroyed his happiness. He cared nothing for his life (though he did care for Jamie's), and willingly risked his skin in hopes of avenging the ones he loved. While he did not care whether he lived or died here and now, he preferred that his death come at the claws of a dragon, and preferably after he had found them and slain as many as possible. Therefore, this new Gobelin predicament was going to set him back.

Curse the gods! How had they been so unlucky? He strained against his bindings, trying to break free of them, struggling against the Gobelins who held him in place. When he gave up, he glanced around, taking count of his captors. There were twenty of the little creatures, and who could say how many might be hiding just out of sight? Weaponless and bound, he stood no chance against them.

Mikkin and Jamie's packs were confiscated; Mikkin eyed his belongings with longing. There were several loud grunts as the little urchins discovered the three short swords Mikkin had taken from Gobelins he had previously killed on their journey. These were now being passed around and argued over.

The weapons created quite a fuss. They wondered how Mikkin and Jamie had come by them. Would it be obvious that he had killed the original owners of those weapons? If so, they were in greater danger.

The leader shouted something harsh and the Gobelins calmed down. Pointing at the swords, it looked at Mikkin and demanded, "How you got those?"

"We found them," Mikkin said almost too quickly. "In the forest down there." He motioned in the direction whence they had come. Weeks had passed since they had killed the owners and stolen the swords.

"Lie!" hissed the Gobelin.

"I do not lie," Mikkin said, "Jamie, would I lie?"

The poor lad was too terrified answer. He could hardly stutter. "N—no. You—you would not lie."

"And this?" the Gobelin asked as he held forth the coins and rubies Mikkin and Jamie had also taken from the bodies.

"Those are mine," Mikkin insisted. He had given the booty to Jamie, but he preferred to keep the conversation focused on himself.

The Gobelin laughed, showing its pointy teeth. "Not yours now!"

Why was it that Gobelins always fell prey to greed? Everyone knew they coveted jewels and gold. Knowing this, a plan was already hatching in Mikkin's mind to enable their escape. "Fine," he said. "Since you like them so much. You keep it!" He threw his nose in the air in an act of great exaggeration. "I already have a huge chest of them. I buried it three days ago for safekeeping. What do I care about a few precious jewels when I have a whole horde? Once you let us go, I'll still have plenty."

With this proclamation, Mikkin could tell the Gobelin's little mind was working hard. It was a lot of information for the dim-witted thing to process. The leader perked up at the mention of Mikkin's make-believe horde, then it began to laugh. "Let go? Let go! Ha-ha-ha." Its laugh sounded raspy and horrid. "I no let you go. Why you bury this?" It held up one of the coins.

"To keep it hidden from little people such as yourself." He had almost called the foul creature a bad word, but he thought better of it. It would not do to offend it.

"Where? Where you hide it?" it eagerly demanded.

Mikkin clenched his teeth in annoyance. The Gobelin actually expected him to reveal the location? What a stupid thing it was!

"Where you hide it?" it repeated.

"Why would I tell you?" Mikkin asked.

"Tell or die!"

"Okay, okay." He held up his bound hands in submission. "I cannot describe the location. I only know in my mind. Here." He tapped his temple awkwardly with one of his fingers.

The Gobelin began conversing very rapidly with the others. Clearly it was relaying the conversation to them. Several of them got very excited. A few started hopping up and down.

"What are you doing?" Jamie hissed in his ear. The creatures carried on arguing.

"Remember the tale of Redcote the Fox?"

Jamie's eyes widened. It was all Mikkin needed to say. The lad understood.

If Mikkin distracted the Gobelins with a treasure hunt, he could buy the two of them time enough to come up with a plan—some way to escape. The dim-witted things would be too excited—too worked up—to see that Mikkin and Jamie were out-foxing them.

Silence fell; the Gobelins had reached a decision. "Show!" commanded their leader. "Show us treasure."

Playing along, Mikkin bowed his head in feigned unhappy acceptance. "Right away."

Leading the way, he and Jamie moved forward, retracing their steps from the day before. He had no idea where to go, but he knew the smartest thing to do was backtrack. It was a setback indeed, but it might save their lives.

After a few hours, the enormity of the setback began to weigh on Mikkin. He used the time to go over various strategies and consider their circumstances in full. There weren't many options available. With twenty Gobelins, he and Jamie would be hard pressed to fight.

Why were so many Gobelins in this part of the forest anyway? Gobelins were creatures from the East, from beyond the borders of Dragonwall.

At first the creatures were in high spirits. They spoke with lively animation. Mikkin imagined they were discussing all the ways they would spend his fake treasure. As the hours wore on, the Gobelins grew impatient. Finally, the leader expressed his frustration. "How much longer?" came the demand.

"Two days," Mikkin assured the little green man.

"Two days?!" it barked, stopping them dead in their tracks. Once more it began to converse with its comrades. More arguing followed.

The raised voices gave Mikkin a chance to whisper with Jamie. "We will have to overpower them," he explained.

"How in every gods' name will we do that?" Jamie asked, keeping his voice low.

"I am not sure yet. Perhaps tonight when they sleep. We cannot hope to outrun them." He saw the lad's jaw drop. "I will need my bow back. It is the only way."

"You cannot shoot all of them!" Jamie insisted. That was true...unless he was positioned correctly.

"Can you climb a tree?" Mikkin asked. Jamie nodded. "I thought so. When I give the word, we will take my bow from that one there." He motioned with his head towards the Gobelin carrying his quiver and bow. The little wretches continued arguing, oblivious. "After I take it, we will climb a tree and shoot them from above. I think it might work."

The possibility was promising as long as they could climb fast enough. It would be difficult shooting so many at once, but if the Gobelins followed up after them it would be slow work for the little things anyway. Their stunted arms and legs would hinder their advance.

Mikkin felt something brush against his ankle. He had almost forgotten about the knife strapped to his ankle, hidden by his trousers. Jamie had one too. The stupid Gobelins had forgotten to search them in their excitement for gold. He could cut their ties when the Gobelins were distracted. It would be risky, but it was the only option they had right now.

"I don't know, Mikkin." Jamie's eyes were on the ground in front of him. "It sounds reckless."

"It is the best plan I have. I'll keep thinking and let you know if I come up with something—"

"No talk!" the leader shouted at them, finally taking notice. They both shut their mouths after that.

"Two days?" the Gobelin asked, coming over to them.

"Yes," Mikkin confirmed, yet again.

"Good! Move."

They marched out. Without breaks and little water, it was exhausting work. Several times they ventured over rough terrain, rocks, and even a few mountain streams. All the ground he and Jamie had gained in the last day was now lost.

When night fell, the Gobelins halted and began preparing a fire. After assessing them, Mikkin decided they had very little to eat, and even less to share. Perhaps they were not prepared to make the two-day trek. His suspicions were quickly confirmed when they started arguing and fighting amongst themselves. During this time, a few pointed at Jamie. It left Mikkin with a bad feeling.

One of the larger Gobelins moved forward aggressively, making for Jamie. It lifted its short sword, ready to lunge.

Adrenaline flooded Mikkin's senses and he rushed into action. "Whoa!" he shouted, jumping in front of the lad to protect him. "What is the meaning of this?" He looked angrily at the commander for answers.

"Men are hungry!" the Gobelin answered. "Want meat."

"The lad is not to be harmed!" he said, disgusted. "If you touch him, you must go through me! All your precious gold will be lost. Without me, you will never find it!"

The leader was silent for several minutes, perhaps considering his options. Then he shouted something at the others. Mikkin held his breath. The Gobelins lowered their weapons. He breathed a sigh of relief.

When he next looked at Jamie, he pitied the lad. Jamie was quaking in his boots. "Do not fret, lad. I will get us out of this soon enough."

He settled down and took a seat beside Jamie. Several Gobelins went off into the night. They returned later with three rabbits. The meat would scarcely feed half the men. The party of Gobelins knew it, too. It was almost entertaining to watch them argue over the food, but it was distraction enough.

"I am going to cut our bonds," Mikkin whispered, looking at Jamie. In the firelight, he saw the lad's eyes grow large. "Once I slit them, we will pretend they are still there. This is our chance for escape."

Gobelins were rumored to have horrible eyesight. In the dark, their eyes would likely be worse. Neither his nor Jamie's vision was well equipped for nighttime either, but theirs would still be better than the little creatures', and they could use the glow from the fire to their advantage.

The arguing heightened and several of the little urchins began yelling back and forth. He watched as one of them forcefully snatched a rabbit from the hunter who held them. Quietly, with as little motion as possible, he slipped the knife from under his trouser leg.

The ropes around Jamie's wrists cut cleanly. The lad returned the favor. He then slipped the knife back to its position and arranged the ropes about his wrist such that they looked uncut. Jamie did the same. Then they waited and watched.

The spectacle was entertaining, even despite the language barrier. He watched as a fight broke out, keeping his eyes on the one who held his quiver and bow. In his mind, he urged the Gobelin closer to him so that he could grab it.

"That tree there," he whispered when the time was near. He motioned with his head towards a large oak. It looked climbable. Its branches started low enough that he and the lad could reach the bottom-most limb with a decent jump.

Another fight started between a smaller group of Gobelins. This time the leader got involved and began shouting and pulling fighting pairs apart. Several of his cronies grunted back at him angrily.

Mikkin and Jamie had their chance. The carrier of Mikkin's bow and quiver was an arm's length away; it was trying to detach from the group with a plump rabbit of its own. Jumping silently to his feet, Mikkin grabbed his bow and quiver, forcefully knocking the surprised Gobelin to the ground. Its cry was drowned out by the fist fights and shouting near the fire. Mikkin and Jamie reached the tree before any in the camp noticed, but when the Gobelins did notice, they roared with anger.

Mikkin already had the quiver and bow slung over his shoulder. Jamie was on his heels. "Jump to the lowest branch and swing yourself up," Mikkin cried.

Jamie followed orders and deftly pulled himself up. The boy had strength, that was for sure. Mikkin followed, though he was not as quick to get into position. Together they climbed. Both of them scrambled up the branches as if wraiths haunted their footfalls. They were near the top before either had the courage to look down.

To Mikkin's relief, the Gobelins had not successfully cleared more than the first branch.

"Jamie, it's time!" Mikkin shouted up to the lad, positioning himself in a sturdy way. He prayed to Asjaa, hoping he had enough arrows in the quiver to take out the majority of the creatures.

He took his bow from his shoulder and reached for the first arrow, loaded it, and let it loose. His target was the closest Gobelin, the one who had already successfully cleared several branches. The arrow struck true; it hit the green creature in the top of the head, passing down through its skull. Immediately the creature fell, taking out another along with it. Mikkin rejoiced. Jamie gave a cheer from above.

The Gobelins were like ants, clambering over each other to gain ground. They screamed and hollered in their fury. Mikkin heard their emotions through their harsh voices. Several Gobelins on the ground issued commands to the ones climbing above.

"Do not forget your knife, lad," he called up to Jamie. "If it comes to that, use it!"

He nocked another arrow then took aim. The second Gobelin fell as quickly as the first. Several others were quickly closing in on their location near the top. These were his first priority.

He loaded each arrow with absolute focus. Over and again he released the deadly shafts. His careful aim felled one Gobelin at a time, sometimes two if the falling one knocked a comrade off balance.

In time, his plan appeared to work. Only two Gobelins remained, lingering at the base of the tree, arguing. He studied them, breathing hard as his muscles strained to maintain balance. The final two would be easy. Eager to get it over with, he reached behind him for more arrows, preparing to kill. He grasped nothing but air. There were no more arrows. "Gods above!"

He looked down at his final enemies. "You down there," he called. "How about you come up and make this easier for me."

Their arguing stopped. They may not have understood his words, but his meaning was clear enough. He was taunting them, and they wouldn't stand for it. They sprang from the ground and began climbing.

Mikkin looked up into the tree above. "Jamie," he called, "come down. We will need that second knife of yours after all."

Jamie complied, climbing down beside him. "I hardly believe it!" the lad gasped. "Every mark you struck true."

"Rejoice later. I will take the bigger one, the one closest to us. You take the smaller one down there, if you can."

"I will do my best," Jamie said. He hadn't missed the sound of apprehension in the lad's voice. Already the two Gobelins were close. If luck worked in their favor, it might be possible to knock them from the tree. Losing their footing now would result in a disastrous fall.

It took mere minutes before the small creatures reached them. Mikkin clambered down to the branch below, meeting them with his knife. Given his position—lower than Jamie's—he had no choice but to take them both. Neither Gobelin had weapons, but they tried to grab him and yank him from the tree.

He held the branch above for support and stabbed the closest in the neck with his knife, removing the blade quickly and going in for a second jab. The Gobelin howled and did not immediately release its grip upon his tunic. The other took hold of him too as it tried to wrench him from the tree.

Jamie came to his rescue. The lad jumped to the branch below, positioning himself behind the second Gobelin. Then he stabbed it in the back. Now, both of the little creatures were wounded.

Mikkin jabbed the closest Gobelin several more times. At last the Gobelin lost its footing, but still grasped his tunic. He gave a shout of surprise as he felt pulled. His foot slipped. His knife fell from his free hand. Mikkin's other hand held tightly to the tree. He worked to remove the Gobelin's grip, peeling open its stiff fingers. At last, it dropped out of sight, down to the forest floor. There was no time for relief.

Mikkin looked up in time to see Jamie push his wounded attacker from the tree. Jamie yelped as he did it, as if surprised by his accomplishment. Mikkin doubted that the lad had ever killed anything like a Gobelin before.

When the last Gobelin's body hit the ground, they fell silent. The only sound was that of their heavy breathing as they clung to the branches of the tree.

At last, Mikkin regained his voice and chuckled. "Well now, how's that for trickery? Come, let's get out of this damn tree. I need some water."

They descended much slower than they had ascended. Mikkin's muscles were screaming. His nerves still lingered on the edge of fear, for he knew little about what they would find in the camp.

At the bottom of the tree he looked around. There wasn't a Gobelin in sight that was not dead, but he had a bad feeling. "Jamie count them—count the bodies."

The lad did as he was told. "Nineteen. How—how many were there?"

"This morning I counted twenty. That means one is missing." He looked over their faces. It was nearly impossible to distinguish one from the other. Their ugly green skin and stunted features looked all the same to him. The smell was ripe, but he got over it quickly after his capture.

"The leader," Jamie said, getting his attention. "Their leader is not among them."

He looked over the faces again. Jamie was correct. The leader was nowhere to be seen.  

⭐🌟 DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!🌟⭐