Krazgul Runeblade's Arc

Chapter 6 of 7

Krazgul pushed the march hard after the scouts died. By the second day, his warband dragged. Goblins stumbled on the road. The chariot's team slowed. Food was gone. Water was short. Grak Bonecrusher leaned on his axe like a crutch. Grizelda Hexwhisper came to Krazgul's side, her yellow eyes dull. "They can't fight like this," she said. "Push them more and you deliver the king corpses, not warriors." Krazgul knew she was right. A hundred spent goblins would break on the king's line. But stopping in the open was its own death. Scouts, raiders, anyone could find them. Krazgul needed a place with walls. He sent Ace ahead to scout the road. Ace returned by dusk. "A roadhouse," he said. "Big. Stone base, timber top. Lights burning. Travelers inside." A safe roof. Food. Water. But not empty. Krazgul could not rest a hundred goblins behind strangers who might run and talk. The inn sat warm and square against the dark. Smoke curled from its chimney. Lamplight glowed in every window. Krazgul walked to the door alone and shoved it open. The common room went silent. A dozen faces stared at the big red goblin and his glowing runes. Then a woman rose from the corner. She was no goblin. She was tall and pale, dressed in black, and she carried a black staff topped with a skull and a crescent. Raven. She did not reach for a weapon. She looked at Krazgul the way a butcher looks at meat. "Your runes are cosmic," she said. Flat. Certain. "I know that kind of mark. I hunt the one who made a thing like that for me." She lifted the staff a hand's width. The travelers near her shrank back. One knocked over his cup trying to get away. "Tell me who carved you." "I carved myself," Krazgul said. "I need this roof. One night. My band rests here." Raven studied him. "Then they'll see what the staff does." She brought it down soft against the floor. The lamps dimmed. The air went gray and heavy. The frightened travelers slumped where they sat, breathing slow, eyes shut. Not dead. Asleep. Raven's shoulders sagged. Her face lost something, like color draining from a cloth. "They won't wake till dawn," she said. "They won't remember goblins." She sat down hard. Krazgul whistled. His warband filed in. They tore into the inn's stores. They drank deep and slept on the warm floor. Grak snored within minutes. By midnight the whole band had rest in their bones again. Krazgul found Raven still awake, staring at nothing. "You spent something," he said. "Yes," she answered. "Your mark leads to what I hunt. I march with you until I find the carver." Krazgul nodded. His warband had food, rest, and now a witch with a staff that stole sleep from men. At dawn they would march for the king. And they would arrive ready to fight.