Published at 3rd of October 2023 12:01 pm

Chapter 3.2 In Which the Dark Lord Descends

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“That little vignette was basically the problem with human/goblin relations in miniature,” Biribo lectured minutes later when I convened my lieutenants in the conference room. “Culturally, goblins live up to the Viryan emphasis on personal strength by cultivating their skills and wits. They’re suspicious of any powerful authority and contemptuous of brute force. Contracts and agreements are a big deal in goblin culture; they like to have everything laid out in very precise terms. Understanding the nuances and working every angle is not only expected but morally laudable to them. They do not have a concept of ‘the spirit of the law,’ that’s a human notion. To goblins, the letter is the spirit.”

I scrunched up my own face, trying to process this. “So when that asshole started going off about technically not having killed Maugro in my goddamn kitchen…”

“You’re not alone, boss, most humans would react poorly to that,” Biribo agreed, bobbing up and down in midair over the center of the conference table. “But to him, he was in the right, both factually and ethically. And that is how any productive deals between humans and goblins usually end up, sooner or later: with both parties feeling the other cheated them and dissolving into violence, which the goblins almost always decisively lose. So that feeds into the race relations as they exist now. Zero trust in either direction, humans regard goblins as pests whom it’s justified to attack on sight if you see one anywhere they’re not supposed to be, and goblins… Well, to goblins, a person who can’t honor their deals has no right to own property or participate in society as an equal. So as they see it, stealing from humans is like harvesting or hunting wild animals in the forest. It’s dangerous, because they’ll kill you for it if they can, but it’s not wrong in any moral sense.”

“Did any of you know any of this?” I asked of the rest of the table.

Amid the blank stares and shaken heads, only Minifrit spoke up. “Consorting too closely with goblins is one of the many things which is socially and potentially legally unacceptable in Fflyr society. There are those who do it, but they are the first to be grabbed whenever the Kingsguard needs to pin a crime on somebody.”

Man, poor Donon.

“This is all interesting stuff,” I said, directing my attention back to Biribo, “but what’s it got to do with the Goblin King and killing my information broker in my kitchen?”

“Right! So the relationship between goblins and humans is mutual, but it is not equal. Humans are twice the size, and they occupy the surface which provides a lot more resources, especially of the edible kind. So human populations grow faster and bigger and individual humans are more likely to be well-fed and healthy, plus having more sizable and sophisticated power structures. In basically every place where the two races coexist, humans hold the power and goblins are some degree of oppressed.”

“Isn’t the current Lord of Godspire a goblin?” Aster asked.

“Yeah, but Godspire is an anomaly in basically every way, politically speaking,” said Nazralind. “It’s best not to consider anything that happens there as representative of…well, anything else.”

Godspire. The great political anomaly that was right across a landbridge from our northern border, about which all I knew was that it was a tiny city-state with almost no land which somehow was able to singlehandedly resist the might of the Savindar Empire, and presumably that of the Lancor Empire should it ever extend that far north. Well, I knew what I’d be asking about in the first of those tutoring sessions Biribo had proposed, which I thought were a good idea, but that was for later when I didn’t have more urgent problems upon which to be briefed.

“Go on,” I told him with a nod.

“Constant persecution builds up pressure that eventually demands an outlet, and for goblins, a Goblin King or Queen is the form that takes. The rise of a Goblin King on Dount means that a quorum of the local goblins have reached a point where they’re so fed up they are willing to completely reverse their culture and outlook on life. Instead of living by wits and skill alone, suddenly the goal is pure violence. A Goblin King’s first task is to bring rival powers to heel, because anybody down in those tunnels who’s got any authority or privilege does not want a Goblin King on their watch. His goal is an uprising, to have goblins come boiling out of their holes to inflict vengeance on their oppressors. In a disorganized mess of a country like Fflyr Dlemathlys, they might even manage to take and hold some territory for a little while, but goblin uprisings never succeed in the long term, and even a fifth-rate military like the Kingsguard would be able to put them down once they mobilize properly. More likely the King’s Guild would send their best in to take out the King himself, that’s what usually happens. Once he goes down…very occasionally another goblin can step up and keep the momentum going for a little while longer, but usually it all falls apart when the King falls. Then the human powers retaliate, with results that verge on genocide.”

“I knew that was usually the result of goblin uprisings,” said Nazralind, looking faintly queasy, “but you’re suggesting all of them know how futile it is and do it anyway?”

“Not really,” Biribo replied. “At least, not all of ‘em. Goblin Kings or Queens always rise from a cult of personality, and usually rally supporters with rhetoric about vengeance or freedom. It helps that goblins usually have an oral system of education and most of ‘em are fairly ignorant of politics and history beyond the island they’re on. The big movers and shakers like Sneppit—and probably this Jadrak himself, if he was enough of a somebody to proclaim himself King and have people go along with it—they know the uprising can’t succeed. Undoubtedly Maugro did too, which was why he had to die. That’s what Jadrak’ll be doing to anybody else down there who’s got any influence and won’t throw in with him.”

“I think I follow you so far,” I said. “Now get to the part about…how did you put it… A war of total annihilation?”

“Yeah, about that.” Biribo swooped in the air, flicking his tongue out, and though his little triangular lizard face was as inscrutable as always his delivery gave me the impression of a wince. “A Goblin King gets to call himself that by riding a wave of pure anger and violence. It’s the most precarious kind of rule: he has whipped his people into a mob, and has to keep ‘em whipped up while also keeping that energy directed properly. Specifically, at human rulers who treat goblins unfairly and oppress them with violence. You just made yourself the first point of contact between the new Goblin King and the surface people, and you did it by making a big display of everything they’re reacting against. Big powerful human responds to something he doesn’t like with spells and crossbows and zero dialog—I know you had your reasons, boss, but that was textbook human arrogance from a goblin’s perspective. He has to fight you now. If he surrenders, or even tries to make a truce, his followers will turn on him. And in his position, that doesn’t just mean a loss of power. They’ll probably tear him literally limb from limb.”

Everyone turned to stare at me, and it required all my poise to ignore them.

“So,” I said slowly, “prospects for diplomacy are…”

“Up in flames?” Aster finished pointedly.

“It’s worse than that,” Biribo continued in a morose tone. “Boss, the absolute last thing a Goblin King wants is a fight with a Dark Lord. Your organization against his is probably something close to a draw at this point, but you, personally, represent a physical force that can rip through just about anything he can throw at you. On the contrary, I bet this Jadrak was really gambling everything on making an accord with you. Positioning himself as the lieutenant of a new Dark Lord is basically the only way for a Goblin King to succeed on anything like the long term. You were his one prospect for victory, and instead, he now has to fight you to the death.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but for once Biribo talked over me, zipping back and forth in agitation.

“Boss, I can’t emphasize enough how badly you just ruined Jadrak’s day. He is dead now. You have killed him. He’s gotta pitch everything he has against a nascent Dark Lord, which is an absolute nightmare scenario for a nascent Goblin King. While it’s not a sure thing—don’t get overconfident—that matchup heavily favors you. If he somehow kills you, his organization will be so beaten up that the King’s Guild will be able to walk in and wipe him out on a whim. He doesn’t have the option of resting and rebuilding his forces, they’d turn on him if he fails to keep up the forward momentum. The only question now for Jadrak is when he meets a bloody end. It’s definitely going to be sooner than it would’ve been if you hadn’t involved yourself. You’re dealing with a dead man walking, who has to watch his doom coming at him, and knows all of it’s your fault.”

“So basically…he’s gonna be slightly less reasonable than the usual run of people I have to kill.”

“Well,” Minifrit drawled, “I cannot help but feel there is a lesson in all this.”

“Hey, how was I supposed to know any of this shit?” I demanded. “None of you did!”

“No one’s saying reacting to what happened with anger wasn’t understandable, or appropriate,” Aster retorted, meeting my glare without flinching, “but you knew we were dealing with the first envoys from another organized power. Circumstances aside, what possible good did you think could come from shooting one and setting the other on fire?”

“In my experience,” Nazralind added, “intimidating people into compliance is always the temptation for somebody in a position of power, and it can even work sometimes—well, a lot of the time, actually. But it has a major potential to backfire. It’s the only way the Clans seem to know how to subdue resistance, and it’s also the reason resistance never entirely dies out no matter how hard they squeeze.”

“All right!” I exclaimed. “What’s done is done, now we have to deal with it.”

“What’s the plan, then?” Minifrit prompted.

“I don’t see what choice we have. We’re going into the tunnels to put this Goblin King down before he can come at us. It sounds like this can all work in our favor if we play it right; the goblins’ grievances sound really familiar to all of us who’ve been living under the Clans. So we take out…what was his name, Jadrak? Finish him off, take over his movement, add the goblins to our ranks, and we’ll be in a much better position than when we started.”

“Except it’s not going to be that easy,” Biribo said immediately. “Boss, don’t forget what I said first: under normal circumstances, goblins are contemptuous of violence and brute force and won’t trust anybody who relies on them. The Goblin King’s minions are not going to pivot toward any human who proves his point about how violent humans are, and the rest of the movers and shakers down there will not fall in with anybody whose only claim to power is killing off other claimants. I agree that we need to take out Jadrak, because it’s him or you, but the fact that we have to go in there and do that pretty much precludes getting the rest of the goblins on our side.”

I inhaled slowly, mastering the temptation to claw at my face with both hands. Fuck me running, I’d really shat the bed this time.

“Okay,” I said aloud after a momentary pause in which everyone had better sense than to interrupt my ruminations. “New plan. We go in there, find and link up with Miss Sneppit’s organization. She can give us the lay of the land and hopefully guide us toward straightening this out. We definitely need a local ally, and we’ve already worked with her people to mutual benefit.”

“And if Sneppit won’t deal with us? Or Jadrak’s already killed her?” Kasser asked.

I bared my teeth. It was not a smile. “Plan B is to kill whoever and whatever we have to until we work our way up to the Goblin King. Kill him, fuck off outta there, seal off the tunnel and write the goblins off as a loss. I would prefer to come out of this mess with allies and some benefit, but I will settle for ending the problem if that’s all we can manage.”

“The first issue I can see is that this will involve going underground.” Aster was already grimacing in distaste as she spoke. “I’ve noticed you don’t seem to have much problem with digging and such, but this is a major taboo for everyone on Ephemera who’s not a goblin.”

“The King’s Guild regularly sends adventuring parties down there to ‘recover stolen property’ and generally keep the goblins suppressed,” Minifrit retorted. “People will venture underground, when impelled.”

“I don’t want to create a morale problem,” I said. “If we make this a volunteer only operation, do you think we’ll get enough?”

“Yes,” Minifrit said immediately. Aster was a second behind, but she nodded agreement.

“The general mood throughout the organization is defiance toward the old strictures and taboos,” she clarified when Minifrit gestured graciously for her to take over. “That, and you have a lot of personal loyalty among our people, especially the Cat Alley girls. This prospect is going to freak out a lot of them, but I’m confident enough will come along willingly to put together a solid strike force. Considering we’re going into goblin-sized tunnels, a smaller team is probably best, at least at first. Greater numbers won’t mean much down there.”

“Good,” I said. “Then put out the call. Minifrit, assemble arms and supplies for everybody. I want to move within the hour; every minute we’re not going on the attack is a minute the Goblin King is gearing up to strike first. Kasser, I want you to come with the first group.”

“Me?” His eyebrows shot upward. “I, uh… That is, I’m not afraid to fight, Lord Seiji, but I thought I already had a job?”

“That’s exactly why you’re coming. Don’t worry, I don’t want you at the vanguard. In fact, you’re valuable enough you’ll be the last one in, and don’t poke your nose through until we’ve secured our foothold. The tunnel from our kitchen comes out in Maug—in what used to be Maugro’s offices. We’re going to move in, sweep out Jadrak’s forces, and secure it, both because we need that foothold and because Maugro will have all kinds of files and information stored there. That’s another reason I want to move quickly, before Jadrak’s people have time to clean it all out. We’re going in there blind and information will be precious. Once we’ve taken it, I want you to see what we’re working with and then get to work fortifying it. That office is something we have to keep; if we lose it to the Goblin King, he’s got a corridor straight into the heart of North Watch. For the same reason,” I added, turning back toward Aster and Minifrit’s side of the table, “I want armed guards posted in the kitchen, as well as in the corridor to the mess hall. The kitchen’s side door into the stairwell is to be sealed off as thoroughly as we can until further notice. In the worst case scenario, the kitchen corridor is another useful choke point, and if we’re forced to fall back from there, the mess hall itself has enough elevated surfaces to make a perfect killbox with our crossbows.”

“Gannit’s going to love this plan,” Nazralind commented with a grin.

“Gannit will live with it,” I snapped, “and obviously the kitchen staff will have to be evacuated anyway if the worst happens. All of these contingencies are because I’m not taking risks with North Watch’s security. Let me be clear: losing our foothold in Maugro’s place once we take it is unacceptable. I’m relaying all this because I will need to lead the team that moves deeper into the goblin tunnels to take out Jadrak, so the commanders staying behind need to know the plan. Make sure to pass it down the chain, Aster.”

“I have people I trust to manage things,” she agreed, nodding. “Since I will be coming with you, I’d like to recall Goose from the main road group; she’s best suited for overall military command, I think.”

“Agreed. We’ll send one of Naz’s riders to retrieve her. Who do you like to replace her position?”

“Khadret’s competent and I think putting her there rather than here will help break up that little clique of her friends. I haven’t seen any actual trouble out of that group, to be clear, but you did say you preferred we not have people developing little factions within the ranks.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to go with Lord Seiji?” Nazralind asked. “That big honking sword of yours isn’t gonna do you any favors in dark, cramped tunnels.”

“Yeah, not looking forward to that,” Aster grimaced. “But yes, I am going and that’s final. Every time I let him run around unsupervised he tries to get himself killed.”

I hastily interjected before Nazralind’s grinning face could begin spewing more backtalk. “Then we’ve got a plan. Everybody get organized. We move in one hour.”

My people really came through. Aster gathered up volunteers for the underground expedition from the many curious faces which had assembled as word of the kitchen attack spread through the fortress. Kasser distributed weapons and armor and Minifrit arranged other supplies, and all told they were ready to roll out in less than half the time I’d allotted. Not even thirty minutes after the meeting broke up, I stood in the kitchen at the head of a strike force of twenty—not enough for a full invasion, but sufficient to seize and hold the offices a the other end of the tunnel and scout beyond.

After all the bullshit I’d experienced in Fflyr Dlemathlys, it was enough to bring a tear to a Dark Lord’s eye. Just imagine it: competence!

If only I could be as certain of all of Aster’s personnel choices.

It was almost all women, which was not a problem; these were, as predicted, Cat Alley girls, who’d been with me the longest and done the most training. It was just some of the individual choices that gave me pause. Adelly was here, which made sense; she had the Lightning Staff in her hands, ready to go. I was less sanguine about both Donon and Madyn being fully kitted out for war, and to judge by her scowl, Gannit shared my opinion. Both the assistant cooks? Donon was obviously hankering for some payback, which was fine, but I’d thought Madyn hated fighting. That was why she worked in the kitchen.

Twigs was here—fine, she was competent and a good scout—because Nazralind was here, and they’d been clingy with each other since being reunited. I was less sure about Nazralind coming along. She was an archer, a gwynnek rider, and a wilderness tracker, all skills that would be useless underground. Well, on the other hand she could do that glow-in-the-dark thing, that might come in handy down there. Only one of the other noblewomen had joined the team, Ismreth, which was unfortunate as now I would have to talk with her. Not that I had anything against Ismreth, she was polite and quiet and generally one of the better-behaved members of my army, but it got awkward finding things to call her. No human being could pronounce that name.

And, of course, there was Ydleth, who had probably been among the first to volunteer to accompany me anywhere. Ever since that embarrassing scene in the mess hall she’d been my biggest fan. Now she gave a huge smile when I entered the room, and I had to dip slightly into showtime to nod at her without grimacing. I was not awkward about her, uh…crotch situation. On the contrary, that was useful to me. I was building my whole case to the people of this world as the guy who would offer them a fair shake no matter who or what they were, in contrast to how they’d been treated under the current regime; the more obviously unusual types I had around, the better. And, hell, that might be immediately relevant in pitching myself to the goblins. Now that I thought about it, that was probably why Aster had put Ydleth on the roster.

She was such a pain, though. Shrill, pushy, argumentative… I felt guilty for disliking somebody who I was pretty sure would take an arrow for me, but Ydleth was just not much fun to be around. Oh, well, at least she was pretty good in a fight and followed orders. Eventually.

The rest of them were solid picks, women I knew to be reliable and loyal. Aster spent more time around the troops individually than I did, and when it came down to it, I trusted her judgment. Besides, even if I didn’t, it was too late. I was asking these people to violate one of their major cultural taboos; morale was going to be a serious concern, and starting this off by nitpicking the staff and suggesting I didn’t think some of them were good enough could doom the whole operation.

I moved to the head of the group, near the tunnel door, and raised one hand. The general shuffling and chatter quieted down on command, everyone giving me their undivided attention.

“Thank you for agreeing to this,” I said simply. “I know you’ve all heard what’s up from Aster, so I won’t bore you with a—”

“Speech!” Ydleth crowed, grinning.

I inhaled and exhaled once, slowly.

“…speech. Because time is short, and because goblins apparently have very good hearing. Back when there were allies at the other end of this tunnel, we used to summon them just by yelling.”

I did not look directly at Ydleth, so I had to enjoy peripherally the sight of her wilting in place as everyone nearby turned to give her scathing stares.

“We know the Goblin King will be gearing up for an attack, and he probably expects the same for us, so the element of surprise is probably a lost cause. Still, we will make our initial strike as quick and quiet as possible. I will take point, Aster right behind me. The rest of you know your formations.”

I paused, looking quickly around to make eye contact with a few people before continuing.

“The only other point of major importance is that dethroning the Goblin King is our primary objective, not our only one. We are going down there to make allies from among his enemies, and that means being willing to welcome goblins into the fold. I’ve made my position on discrimination plain up till now, but I will repeat it for emphasis: there will be none of that in the Dark Crusade. If you’ve got a problem with goblins, you will keep your mouth shut about it. Reaching an accord with them is going to be an uphill trudge as it is. Anybody who makes it harder will be the recipient of my full displeasure.”

A pause to let that sink in, and then I nodded once, smiling slightly.

“And that’s it. I appreciate each of you for your willingness to come along. Ladies and Donon, let’s kick some ass.”

There was no cheering, because they could follow directions. Taking that as a good sign, I turned, opened the door, and stepped into the tunnel.

No sign of the goblin I’d left here covered in fire slimes; Gannit reported that the screaming had faded with distance and then stopped entirely. There was no body, either, which was good. It was dark and cramped and we didn’t need a tripping hazard.

Right away I gave up on the idea of stealth. Everyone had to shuffle along behind me, single-file and hunched over, and the echoes off the dirt and stone walls made this short walk feel as loud as a train ride. Yeah, they were gonna hear us coming. Oh, well.

Maugro’s door at the other end was, I noted with surprise, not any sturdier than the one I’d had Kasser build. Well, for all that he’d had longer to put it in place, he probably wasn’t expecting anyone to try to break in, given how the Fflyr felt about tunnels. Stepping up to the surface of pitted akorshil planks, I could hear quiet voices and shuffling sounds on the other side. They could definitely hear us, then.

I turned the latch, and it broke off in my hand. On closer inspection, the entire thing was knocked loose from the wall. Well, there had been a serious fight here just a few minutes prior. An experimental shove only moved it a few centimeters before it thumped against an obstruction. A second push rocked it a bit further. They’d had time to put up a barricade—though, from the feel of it, not a very sturdy one.

I took a step back, causing Aster to shuffle backward into the woman behind her, and raised my foot.

Hell, it’s not like subtlety was ever my strong suit anyway.

The first kick splintered akorshil and made the entire door buckle inward. Two more impacts and something gave way with an ugly crunch, causing the half-broken door to sag from one hinge, barely held up by whatever was trying to block it from the other side.

Planting my feet firmly on the ground again, I grinned savagely and raised both hands.

Windburst!

The backdraft from it roared up the tunnel behind me, of course, generating quite a few complaints and causing me to stumble backward. Still, most of the force succeeded in its job, sending the door and barricade flying into Maugro’s offices in pieces. And with that, I took my first step into the domain of the goblins, in my own inimitable style: grinning, arms held wide, wild-haired from the Windburst and altogether carrying the presence of ten lesser men.

“OHAYO, MOTHERFUCKERS!”

So they all shot me.

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