Ranger Hastur paused, taken a little aback by the young learner’s reply. “Thorin, I didn’t even say what the mission was.”
Thorin glanced at his two teammates, Feena and Azure giving him curious looks, then looked back at their teacher. “It’s about the Goblins, right sir?”
Hastur sighed, rubbing the red bandanna he wore to cover his balding scalp. This was the problem with being the teacher to the son of the village leader, just from his dinner table chatter alone the boy knew far more than anyone else about the goings-on of the ranger village.
“That’s right, kid.” Hastur continued. “That Goblin trader caravan that just went through left a member of their clan with us for training, but that member forgot something and needs to catch up with the caravan to retrieve it. We need someone to escort them there and back again before the caravan gets too far out. So, I was to going to ask which one of you wanted to do it.”
“Sir, I already said I’d do it.” The young teenaged boy stated. “Besides, Feena has special training with the Carving Master, and Azure hates Goblins, so we can’t send her. I’m the only choice.”
Hastur raised a salt-and-pepper eyebrow, looking at Feena, who gave a shrug of agreement, and Azure, who looked unhappy but nodded as well. Elves and Goblins had a long and furious history between them, and there was little doubt that sending her into the Goblin camp might not be the best choice.
In truth, he’d been a little reluctant to send the leader’s son on the mission, and hoping Feena could take it on, but accepting that he’d already been outmanoeuvred by his student, Hastur finally nodded. “Alright then, Thorin. See the Master of Horses for two mounts, and then take them to the Blue House to pick up the Goblin. Prepare to be out for the night, since we’ve only got half a day and it’ll be a good day’s ride to get there.”
“Yes, teacher!” The redheaded teen said enthusiastically, and then with he was sprinting away from the table.
Watching him go, Hastur was a little bewildered. He’d rarely seen anyone want to spend more time than they had to with a Goblin, much less be happy about it. Then he paused… did the boy know? He shook the thought away. Even if he did, this was just Thorin being Thorin- eager to learn and explore everything he could.
Still, he wished the boy luck as he turned to the day’s training for his remaining two charges.
Thorin tapped twice on the Blue House’s front door, then peered around to see if Master Rugle or his wife were somewhere about the farmstead. The Blue House was the guest house for people staying with the Rangers of the Black Woods, so called for the blue tinted stones that had been used to build it. Legend had it that when Master Rugle was asked why the house was blue, the retired ranger said that the house was a fetching green. This being the first time anyone had noticed that the elder warrior was in fact colorblind.
Still, the name stuck, and the Rugles were known far and wide for their hospitality, and Mrs. Rugle’s raspberry puddings and other treats. Treats which Thorin hoped he might get a few of to accompany the day’s ride.
Not seeing either the seniors or their tenant farmers about, Thorin knocked again. This time there was noise from inside and the face of the elderly former ranger appeared at the door, smiling down at him.
“Well, if it isn’t young Redleaf? How’s your father, boy?”
“Good, sir.” Thorin said politely. “My mother has him clearing out the back gardens today.”
This made the older man smile more broadly. “I bet he wishes there were an official emergency to tear him away from that mess! So, how may I help you?”
“Master Hastur sent me to escort the… err… guest back to their caravan to fetch something.” Thorin said, realizing halfway through that he actually didn’t know what to refer to the Goblin as without being rude. He wasn’t sure if Goblin was a polite term or not, especially given how most people seemed to use the word.
This made the elder’s smile fade quickly. “Ah, yes. We’ve been expecting you. Come with me, then.” He pushed open the door and then lead Thorin into the house, through a front hall lined with paintings of oddly coloured cows and scenery, and left into the front sitting room.
There, on an old wooden rocking chair, sat the Goblin…
You can read the rest of the story on Amazon.com.
* * * * * * * * * Want to put a little something in my tip jar out of appreciation? Click here and donate!