Goblin War Read Online Free Page B

his fingers. Of course, that air also carried the faint smell of hobgoblin cooking, but at least it was warm.
    A group of armed goblin warriors crowded near the entrance of the cavern, joking and boasting about what they would do to the humans. These were the same goblins who had shoved past Jig and Grell in their eagerness to flee back to the lair. But now that they were here, every last one shouted tales of triumph and victory, trying to top the rest.
    Jig had seen it before. The worst part was that every goblin started to believe what the others were saying. Before long they would be charging back out of the mountain to prove themselves.
    Grell solved the problem by jabbing the closest warriors with a cane. ‘‘You three go wait in the temple. Ambush anyone who comes in.’’
    Relka shoved past Jig, clearing a path through the remaining warriors. She raised her voice, so her words echoed through the tunnels. ‘‘The high priest of Tymalous Shadowstar has returned!’’
    From the direction of the hobgoblin lair, a faint voice shouted back, ‘‘Shut up, you stupid rat eaters!’’
    ‘‘Stupid hobgoblins,’’ Relka muttered. ‘‘Why aren’t they out there fighting the humans too?’’
    ‘‘Because I sent Braf to ask them for help when the humans first arrived,’’ Grell said.
    Relka shook her head. ‘‘I don’t understand.’’ ‘‘The fool went and told them the truth about how many humans and elves we were fighting. The hobgoblin chief told him. . . .’’ Grell shook her head. ‘‘Well, it doesn’t matter. Braf’s not flexible enough to do it, at any rate.’’
    Jig hunched his shoulders and followed them into the deep cavern the goblins claimed as their home. Inside, goblins scampered about like rats with their tails on fire. A group off to the right traded wagers as to how many goblins would die in the fighting. Others squabbled over the belongings of the dead and the almost-dead. Jig’s attention went to a skinny goblin girl near the edge of the cavern. She kept her head bowed as she moved, carefully refilling the muck pits and lighting those that had gone out.
    A few years ago, that had been Jig’s job. The caustic muck could blister skin, the fumes made the whole cavern spin, and woe unto the careless goblin who let a spark land in his muck pot. Still, as smelly and humiliating as muck duty had been, at least it hadn’t involved running out into the snow in the middle of a battle. Or fighting dragons and pixies and ogres. Or trying to avoid Relka and her band of fanatics.
    Jig wondered if the muckworker would be willing to trade.
    Several of Relka’s friends were already crowding around Jig. Like Relka, they wore makeshift necklaces to show their devotion to Tymalous Shadowstar. Most were goblins who had been healed by Jig or Braf in the past. Given how the rest of the lair reacted to their endless praise of Jig and Shadowstar, they tended to need healing fairly often.
    ‘‘Jig, come with me,’’ Grell snapped. She hobbled through the crowd to one of the few doors in the cavern. Fixing wood to rock was tricky, but Golaka the chef made a paste that could be spread on the walls. The mold that grew on the paste clung equally well to stone and wood, enabling the goblins to erect a few crude doors. The chief’s cave was the only one with a lock.
    Grell grabbed the door with both hands. Goblins everywhere cringed as the wood screeched over the stone floor. Jig reached out to help, but a glare from Grell stopped him.
    ‘‘I can open my own door, thank you.’’ Eventually she managed to slide the door wide enough to slip inside.
    A single muck pit cast a weak green glow over the cluttered space within. A handful of weapons sat beside a batskin mattress filled with dried grasses. Grell wheezed as she lowered herself onto the bed, a complicated process that involved much grunting and repositioning of her canes. Finally she sat back and pulled a blanket of tunnel cat fur over her