Jean Rabe - Goblin Nation

“Rockhide will be fine.” That came from Rustymane, behind Direfang, who pointed to the old goblin sitting dazedly nearby. Rockhide seemed only half awake. “That pale healer woman …”

“Qel,” Grallik provided.

“Qel will mend Rockhide.” Rustymane scooped him up and lumbered off toward where goblins had been building the healer and the gnoll a small house.

“Qel should not have to mend Rockhide,” Direfang complained after Rustymane and his charge were well out of earshot. “Rockhide is old, Skakee. What is the matter with you? What could the old one have done to prompt this fight?”

The lines on her forehead grew more pronounced, her stubbornness deepening. “Should have hurt Rockhide worse,” she spit. “Should have …” She raised a little fist and shook it in the old goblin’s direction.

“What did Rockhide do?” Direfang repeated.

The crowd of goblins had been quiet, but a giggle erupted from a Flamegrass clansman near the front. Direfang shot him a fierce look, and he instantly quieted.

“Skakee, what did …”

She gestured toward what was left of the home that she and a few of her fellows had been building. “Rockhide did that.” She stared at the collapsed walls.

“That fell during the fight, Skakee. Rockhide had nothing to do with-”

One of the goblins in the front made a feigned coughing sound to get Direfang’s attention. “Uh, Rockhide leaned against Skakee’s home,” he said.

“The wall leaned a little with Rockhide,” another interjected.

Direfang felt his stomach start to churn.

“Should have hit Rockhide much, much harder.” Skakee balled her fists and shook them in the direction of Qel’s home site. “Hope Qel cannot help Rockhide. Hope Rockhide-”

Direfang sat her down. “Rockhide did nothing bad on purpose, Skakee.”

“Made the wall lean. And that made the house fall in. Rockhide’s fault. Should have hit Rockhide-”

“Leave, Skakee.”

She swallowed hard and stared at him. “Leave? Leave what? Leave what is left of this house? Nothing is left of this house. All the work and-”

“No! Leave this city, Skakee.”

From deeper in the crowd came a few gasps of surprise. Even Grallik raised an eyebrow. All eyes were on Direfang, and the sensation felt uncomfortable, like insects wandering aimlessly across his scarred hide. A part of him regretted his ruling already, wishing he’d not said anything so harsh and instead had simply scolded her. A part of him was secretly glad.

Direfang squared his shoulders and stared down at Skakee. One of the smaller goblins, she didn’t even come up to his waist. “It is time for Skakee to leave this city. There is no place for such a goblin that fights with old ones over an accident. If the house had been built better, the wall would not have leaned. The fault is not with Rockhide. The fault is with Skakee for starting a fight. The wall could have been repaired.”

She sucked in her lower lip and shook her head, disbelief etching her features. “Sorry, Direfang. Should have thought. Should not have hit Rockhide. Should apologize and-”

“Should leave now,” he said, each word hard and distinct.

“But-”

He growled from deep in his throat, and a line of drool edged over his lip and spilled onto his chest. He bent over and stabbed a finger into her chest, toppling her.

“Now, while Skakee still breathes.” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

She sucked in a great gulp of air at the threat to her life and scrambled backward, kicking up dust and bumping into the legs of her fellows. She got to her feet and shook her head again.

“So sorry,” she tried. “So very, very-”

Direfang took a step closer and closed his right hand into a fist, the skin paling around his knuckles.

She broke into a sob and whirled, pushing through the goblins behind her, little feet thudding against the dry ground and sending up puffs of dirt.

Goblins started arguing, some pointing at Skakee, others at Direfang.

“There could be another fight, Foreman,” Grallik said, padding up to the hobgoblin’s shoulder.

“What did the wizard say?” That came from Rustymane, who understood very few words of the common tongue.

“Quiet!” Direfang bellowed.

The arguing grew louder, and Direfang gestured to Grallik. The wizard nodded, sending a stroke of fire down behind the assembly. The scent of burned earth filled their nostrils.

“Skakee did wrong,” Direfang said loudly. His throat ached from the effort; he felt weary. He heard a rustle in the branches overhead and looked up. A few dozen goblins were hanging on thick limbs, listening and watching from a safe distance. “Skakee was punished. Simple.”

“Direfang had no right,” one of her clansmen risked speaking up. “Direfang cannot-”

“Cannot keep order?” the hobgoblin asked. He took a step toward the bold goblin and bent low to stare him in the face. “Someone must keep order, Grimstone, or chaos will rule this city.”

Several goblins agreed with Direfang, nodding vigorously and whispering that Skakee was indeed wrong to hurt such an old, clumsy goblin.

One of the Skinweavers pointed to a shrunken head dangling at his side. “Better to fight elves than goblins,” he said loudly for all to hear. “Better to collect elf heads.”

“Grimstone is wrong,” a hobgoblin named Gralin said. “Direfang is right.”

Grimstone held up his right arm and slapped his elbow with his left hand. It was an obscene gesture that riled up the goblins near him.

“This clan did not want to have a city at all,” a Fishgatherer said. “Not yet. No buildings yet. Wanted to explore first. This is a very big forest; this spot might not be the best.”

One of his clansmen pushed him. “The river is good here. This is a fine, fine spot.”

Arguments swirled, with some goblins agreeing there might be a better location for a city, one clan suggesting the mountains far to the east would be a good place for the goblins to live in caves. Another said caves would remind him of the Dark Knight mines, and he could not live or eat there.

Direfang’s stomach churned more violently, and he felt bile on his tongue, listening to all the endless chatter.

“Underground is for goblins,” a youngling suggested in a low voice. “Should not build homes. Should dig them. Father said Direfang is silly. Goblins belong in the earth where it is dark and comfortable and where the rain does not reach.”

A Boarhunter recommended all building stop and the army press south … then north again, forever wandering in search of better game and taking whatever they needed from the land.

Direfang guessed there were nearly two thousand goblins in the vicinity, most of them trying to utter an opinion, a few shouting they were hungry, voices rising angrily. His mind drifted away from the confrontation with Skakee and Grimstone. Again he thought about finding a way to feed all of them.

Grimstone repeated the obscene gesture and spit at Direfang again. “No right. In the mines Direfang was a foreman. Here Direfang has no-”

“Order!” Direfang hollered. Whispers continued, like the drone of a swarm of insects. “Order! Grimstone can follow Skakee.” Direfang rose to his full height and set his fists against his hips.

“Direfang is wrong.” Grimstone puffed out his chest. One of the taller goblins, at well more than three feet, he was also one of the stockiest, with a belly that spilled over a leather belt. “Direfang cannot say which goblins stay and which goblins go. This is a city for goblins, not a city for Direfang.”

“This is not a city for chaos.” Direfang lowered his voice solemnly, the murmurs in the crowd fading so they could hear him.