The group set off at first light towards Hillnot. It would be an arduous journey, not just because Pardew was going, but also because of the terrain they would be travelling through. They couldn't use the valley floor, so they would be heading up into the foothills before navigating a path back down, which should bring them out close to Haskins' old farm.
"You didn't need to come," Pardew said, as he grunted, pulling himself up over a boulder, with the help of one of the goblin scouts.
"I wasn't going to let you go alone," Harm said. He had decided he would accompany Pardew, not to Hillnot, but at least to Haskins' farm. If the old man was willing to take the risk, then Harm couldn't not do.
The terrain as you got nearer the mountain in the north of the valley was steep and treacherous. The lone fir tree stood its ground on the shale rocky surface, but little else did. They still had a way to go before they could cut back towards the valley floor.
Sweat beaded on Harm's brow as he grabbed the edge of the cold granite surface of the boulder before he pulled himself up. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath, the cold air biting at the higher altitude from the valley or the cover of the forests where the clan lived. He had been impressed with how Pardew was coping with the exertion. His legs were feeling sore, so he wouldn't like to think about how Pardew's were.
"Carli, once we get nearer, are you okay scouting ahead?" Harm asked.
Carli was a young female goblin who had shown remarkable skill at tracking. She was fast and reliable, and Harm could imagine her being a massive asset in the future for the clan.
"Sure," she replied, as the loose shale skittered down the slope behind them.
Mante, the other scout, was one of the veteran goblins; he had been a hunter for years, from what Dafu had told him and was the best scout by far. He was ageing now, though, and didn't have the youthful exuberance that Carli did. Then again, neither did Harm. She was like a whippet, the speed at which she moved over the rocks.
The slog continued until they reached the point to start down to the valley floor. This would be the most challenging part of the journey, requiring them to descend several short stages. Harm could only hope the return would be easier. He had always preferred going up rather than climbing down.
The first sign of a problem was the wail as Carli fell to the ground. There was no warning, no precursor. The rock she had been using to lower herself had come away from the cliff side, sending her falling backwards. She was ahead of the group by a good hundred feet as they worked their way down the steep slope; she had already started on the next descent.
"Carli?" Harm shouted as he heard her cry. He pushed Mante to the side as he hurried to the edge, peering down where she lay. "Carli, answer me!"
The fall hadn't been far, no more than fifteen feet, but Carli now lay on her back, her eyes closed and her ankle looking at a somewhat different angle than it should have. She didn't respond to his call.
"Shit," Harm cursed as he lowered himself over the lip, lying on his stomach. He then lowered himself, not worrying about climbing. He hung by his arms for several moments as he gauged where he would land and then dropped. He was much taller than any of the others, well over six feet in height, and hanging by his arms before dropping meant that it was probably only a six-foot drop.
He braced for the impact as he landed, bending his knees to absorb the shock. The surface was uneven, and he winced as he touched down, his ankle twisting slightly. Not enough to stop him, but enough to get his attention.
"Fuck," he said as he rubbed it and moved to Carli.
"Carli, can you hear me?" Harm said as he grabbed her shoulder, shaking her gently.
She groaned. At least she was alive, and Harm could see a patch of blood by her head. Harm could hear the others now climbing down.
"Is she alright?" Mante asked, being the first to reach Harm.
"No. Her head's bleeding, and her ankle's definitely fucked."
Pardew stumbled over where he had just climbed down. He bent down beside her and lifted her head gently. Carli let out a low groan. Harm watched as he ran his hands down the back of her head, then removed them. The blood was on his left hand, so he slowly tilted her head to the right. Harm could see the gash, but it wasn't very deep or large.
"Head injuries. Always seems worse than it is," Pardew said, gently placing her head back down. He subconsciously rubbed his own head, Harm noticing a scar that crossed his balding pate.
Harm was amazed at the care and speed with which the old man had just examined her.
"The ankle, though, that's something entirely different," Pardew said. "Looks like a cleric or a powerful potion to fix that."
"She'll never make it back like that," Mante said.
Harm growled. "Fuck." As Carli opened her eyes groggily.
She immediately moved her hand to her head.
"Your head's fine," Pardew smiled.
"It's bleeding," Carli said, staring at her blood-soaked fingers.
"I promise you, it's nothing to worry about. I've had much worse. Your ankle, though."
Carli looked down at her ankles, where her left ankle was twisted unnaturally. She pushed herself up on her elbows, staring in disbelief. Then the shock set in.
"My... my... my... leg," Carli stammered.
"We'll get it sorted," Harm said, having absolutely no idea how they could. Her potential future as the top scout in the clan was now exceedingly unlikely. He wasn't even sure if she would ever be able to walk properly again. Sister Carol, whom Harm would have gone to with her, was dead; there was no way Vera would ever, even under pressure, heal a goblin, and he didn't know any alchemists.
"We'd better get you back to the clan," Harm said.
Carli blinked at Harm. "You can't. We need weapons."
"Yes, but..."
"No!" Carli hissed as a wave of pain went through her, her face contorting in pain. "Finish what you came to do. You can collect me on the way back."
Harm couldn't quite believe the resolve this young goblin was showing.
"I'll stay with her," Mante said. "The path is direct from here to the farm."
Harm looked between the three of them. Pardew just shrugged. He took a deep breath.
"Okay. We will be back as quickly as we can," Harm said, tormented by leaving an injured clan member behind.
It was late afternoon when they arrived at Haskins' farm. The old farmhouse was dilapidated; the stone walls hadn't been maintained since it was abandoned, and where there had once been a thatched roof, it had long since rotted away. The track and pastures were hardly recognisable, the wild of the valley taking back what it once owned.
"Try to be as fast as you can," Harm said.
Pardew nodded as he set off down the track. The farm was only a ten-minute walk from the gates of Hillnot.
As Pardew cut through the cutting that led to the gates, he was surprised on turning the bend to find the gates to Hillnot closed. At night, he could understand the gates being closed to prevent the thieving goblin clans from attempting to enter the town, but not in the afternoon.
Pardew walked up to the gates, which stood fifteen feet high. They looked impenetrable; the dwarven stonemasons were, after all, renowned for their skills.
A long-bearded dwarf looked down from the parapet above the gatehouse.
"Can I help ye?" he called.
Pardew squinted. "Is that young Harithy? Last time I saw you, you were still beardless."
The dwarf frowned, looking down at the man who stood staring at him. "And who are y'?"
"It's me, old man Pardew. The tanner from Sallew."
The dwarf stared for a few moments. "I thought you'd be dead by now, you old goat." Suddenly, realising who the visitor was, and smiled.
"Can this dead old man come inside?"
"Aye, give me a minute."
Pardew waited patiently as the dwarf descended from the wall and opened the heavy wooden gate that secured the town. As Pardew looked at the rather broad and round dwarf that now stood in front of him, he couldn't help but comment. "It looks like it ain't just your beard that's grown," he chuckled.
Harithy laughed. "That's my Wendi's cooking. She's a dab hand."
"And the ale, I bet," Pardew said.
"Aye, that as well. So what brings you here? We ain't seen many guests recently."
"Oh?" Pardew said, totally confused.
"Since that bastard started blocking the traders from coming. That's why the gates are mainly closed now."
"Which bastard are you referring to?"
"That Sabil or whatever his name is. He started blocking trade several weeks back. We ain't seen a caravan since then. Only a few have come on foot like yourself."
"I didn't know. I've come to see Master Irondue. I'm after weapons."
"Weapons? What would you be wantin' with weapons?"
Pardew held up his weathered hands. "Hands are getting too painful to be doing the trade these days, and I still need to make money. I was thinking if I can get weapons or armour, I know I'll be able to turn a good profit. The whole region knows your smiths are the best we have."
That comment made Harithy puff his chest out with pride. "That we do, but with what's happening, I'd be surprised if you got them back to Sallew in one piece."
"What makes you say that?"
Harithy's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Where have ye been? Ain't you just come from there? The mercenaries have been reported they have been stealing from the locals, and the boss there ain't doin' nothin' 'bout it."
"I try to stay away from town. My place is on the plains' edge. I usually come around the outer path."
"Aye, well, since that demon was seen in the woods, there has been a band of mercenaries brought into the town. Or that's what we've heard at least."
"I see," Pardew said, nodding in understanding. The only demon he could even think of was Harm, who it must have been the night they had left. When he had caught up with them, he had looked particularly demonic, covered in blood, with those strange red eyes he had these days. "I'd heard about the demon but not about any others coming into the town."
They carried on chatting for a few minutes, Harithy informing Pardew that he now had a dwarfling, which he congratulated him on.
"Right, I'd better get going before it gets too late. I want to head back before night," Pardew said as he headed to Master Irondue's.
Master Irondue's forge was one of the larger ones in the town. The smell of oily smoke constantly filled the air, and the sound of hammering carried on well into the night from the multiple forges.
He found Master Irondue dowsing a new blade in an oil trough; it hissed as he did, spluttering, as the blade cooled rapidly.
"Irondue," Pardew called.
"Well, I'll be. What brings you here?" Ironedue said, seeing Pardew.
"Come to trade," Pardew said, waggling his eyebrow.
Irondue laughed, placing the blade he still held in tongues on a stone table.
"And what are you wanting to trade?"
Pardew walked to the table and stood opposite Irondue before removing the pouch of uncut gems Harm had given him. He opened the tie cord and tipped a few onto the tabletop.
Irondue's eyes opened in surprise. "Emeralds? Where did you come by those?"
"That's my secret. Now then, what do you think I can get with them?"
It was over an hour later when Pardew sat on the driving pan of a cart, with a mule. The dwarves didn't have horses, but they did have plenty of mules that worked in the mines. He waved to Irondue as he rode towards the town gate. Irondue hefted the bag of uncut gems in his hand with a big grin on his face. Pardew knew he had been overcharged for everything, but the clan now at least had some weapons, and from what Harm had said, he had many more emeralds if they were needed.
Harithy waved him off with a smile, telling him to call again soon, which Pardew had agreed to. He had always enjoyed the dwarven hospitality over that of Sallew. Never mind, they brewed the best ale in the valley. In his younger days, when he visited regularly, what should have been a day trip would often turn into two, after taking part in a few drinks with the locals.
The cart clattered over the stone track as he headed back to Haskins'.
Harm was growing frantic. The sun had lowered into dusk, and the skies darkened with the promise of rain. 'Where are you?' he huffed, standing on a small hillock and staring toward Hillnot. That's when he noticed the torchlights on the track from Sallew.
He watched as they approached, a slow procession; there had to be at least thirty men. The glint of steel caught the torchlight.
What the hell's going on? He thought. He crouched and watched them. The column halted, and he watched as it fanned out. The group was barricading the trail. Large barrels were offloaded from the backs of wagons and placed across the path. Harm frowned deeply. Why would the path be getting blocked?
He then heard the sound of heavy clopping steps and the squeak of a worn wheel. He turned to see Pardew moving along the overgrown track in a cart. The hillock and undulating ground between where Pardew was and the group of men prevented them from seeing each other.
Harm hurried from the hillock towards Pardew.
"How'd it go?" Harm asked.
"Well. I have what we need, and I also got a poultice for Carli and a tonic. Not sure what good it will do, as the cleric said he needed to see her to really be sure."
Harm couldn't believe Pardew had even considered it and smiled.
"There's a group of guards blocking the trail heading to Sallew."
"Good job; I wasn't going that way. Apparently, Satil has called mercenaries in ever since there was a report of a demon in the area," Pardew chuckled.
"Demon?" Harm asked, confused.
"Aye. I think they'd be talking about you."
"Oh!" Harm said with realisation.
Pardew brought the cart to a stop, and Harm lifted the tarp that covered the rear of the cart. A broad grin appeared on his face. "These look perfect."
"Aye, old Irondue's the best in the town."
In the rear of the cart were twenty gleaming short swords, twenty hand axes, whose edges looked as sharp as a razor, and an assortment of daggers. There were even several small bucklers. "Shields?" Harm asked.
"He threw them in for free and said that if I need anything else, to let him know. I think he overcharged me; they cost me the whole pouch of stones."
"Bah, I'd have paid double for dwarven-made weapons of this quality. Right, we'd better unload and get moving."
Pardew unhitched the mule and let it go where once a pasture had been; the grasses stood higher than the broken fence that still surrounded it.
Harm unloaded what he could from the cart, adding it to his inventory. Being a fighter with his high strength, it granted him extra inventory slots, and he placed as many of the weapons as he could in them. Pardew joined him, doing the same, and the remainder Harm packed into a large backpack that he had brought with him. It weighed a ton when loaded, but Harm wasn't going to leave anything behind. He grunted as he hefted it onto his shoulder.
"Ready?" Harm asked.
Pardew just stared at the big man in disbelief at what he was carrying. "You sure you can move with that on?"
"Yep," Harm said, striding forward. "Well, at least until we get back to Carli, then we can stash them and I can get them collected." He felt an instant burn in his shoulders from the pack's weight.
