Chapter 5: The Monsters’ Den

Chapter 5: The Monsters’ Den

Rigar was walking alongside the fields when he came upon a crooked signpost. An arrow carved into the wood pointed north, with a name beneath it: Botsdar.

He stopped to tighten the belt holding his longsword. There, in the capital of the Kingdom of Dorth, he would look for work that would put his training to the test—and a teacher who could take his magic beyond the basics.

Eight days had passed since he left Amraj. He had slept beneath trees and in barns whose owners allowed him to stay the night. The rub of leather armor against his shoulders had become familiar, though it still left him aching by evening.

Near sunset, he spotted a cluster of low houses beyond a wooden fence.

He read the sign at the entrance.

“Bird’s Nest.”

I’ll stay for one night, then be on my way.

But the first thing he saw was a broken gate, which a man was trying to secure with a rope. Beyond it stood houses with boarded windows, empty livestock pens, and a well where women waited with small containers. A child passed him carrying a sack. When a handful of barley spilled out, the boy dropped to his knees and began gathering the grains from the dirt.

Rigar slowed his pace.

In a house that offered lodging to travelers, a woman set a bowl of thin soup before him. The door opposite had been sealed with fresh boards, but dried blood still marked the doorway.

“What happened here?” he asked.

Her hand paused beside the bowl.

“Goblins. They come out of the forest every few days.”

“Isn’t there a garrison nearby?”

“We sent for help. No one came.”

She sat on the edge of the bench.

“They took our grain and livestock. In the last few attacks, they took seven women, too. Our men went after them. Some came back badly wounded.”

He looked down at the soup. His spoon had yet to touch it.

“Where can I find the village chief?”

He found the old man repairing an axe handle outside his house. The chief listened until Rigar had finished, then set the axe aside.

“I can help you clear out their den,” Rigar said. “I’ll need five people, including someone who knows the forest.”

The old man studied his sword, then his young face.

“How many battles have you fought?”

Rigar hesitated.

“Not enough to promise you this will be easy. But I know how to use a sword and magic. We’ll scout the place first. I won’t lead your people blindly to their deaths.”

He held out his palm. A small flame sprang to life above it, then shrank to the size of his fingertip and went out.

The chief continued staring at his hand.

“We have no money to pay a mage.”

“Just give me some food for the road when I return.”

Before nightfall, five villagers stood before him: Mike, a hunter carrying a bow; Thorn, a broad man with a shield and an axe; Basto and Minak, each armed with a spear; and Liya, a young woman gripping a short wooden staff.

“These are the people we can spare,” the chief said. “The others will stay behind to guard the houses.”

Rigar turned to Liya.

“What kind of magic do you use?”

“Water. I can push an enemy back or block a blow, but I can’t keep it up for long.”

“Stay behind Thorn. Only use your Glow when you need to.”

They spent the night checking their weapons and wrapping any metal parts that might clink together as they walked. Mike drew their route through the forest in the dirt, marking the valley he had seen the goblins heading toward.

At dawn, they left without torches.

A few hours later, Mike raised his fist. Everyone crouched behind the roots of an enormous tree.

Below them lay a clearing in front of a cave in the hillside. Crates and sacks were scattered across it, and a cart stood tilted beside the rocks. Two goblins guarded the entrance while others moved around the embers of a fire.

Rigar watched for a long time. He counted twelve small goblins. Then a creature appeared behind them, so large that it had to duck to pass through the cave entrance. Iron plates secured with straps covered its chest, and it carried a thick club studded with nails.

“That’s the one that broke the gate,” Minak whispered.

The chief went back inside.

Rigar’s throat felt dry. Nothing he had faced in training had been that large.

He gathered the others close.

“Mike, take the rock on the right. Thorn, Basto—block the passage between the cart and the wall. Minak, protect Liya.”

He pointed toward the cave.

“The women may be inside, so we won’t use fire against the entrance. We’ll draw the goblins out. No one chases an enemy alone.”

“And the big one?” Thorn asked.

Rigar tightened his grip on his sword.

“Leave him to me.”

They waited until the smaller goblins had spread out and one of the guards bent over a bowl. Rigar nodded to Mike.

An arrow flew, and the guard fell beside the wall.

Rigar rushed the second before it could understand what had happened. The goblin reached for a horn hanging around its neck, but his blade struck first. The horn slipped from its fingers.

A shriek rang out near the fire.

The goblins charged, knives and short spears raised.

Three came at Rigar at once.

His body wanted to retreat straight backward, just as he had during his earliest days with Aris. Instead, he forced his foot to move sideways, putting the nearest attacker between himself and the other two.

He deflected its knife with a short sliding motion of his blade, then drove his sword into its chest and pulled it free.

The second rushed him from the left.

Rigar thrust out his palm. A burst of fire struck the creature’s face, sending it stumbling backward. He followed with a blow that brought it down before it could recover its balance.

The third leaped over the body.

Its knife caught Rigar’s left forearm, slicing through the skin. He drew back half a step, turned his hips, and swept his sword beneath the goblin’s raised arm.

It fell at his feet.

He looked at the blood running toward his ring. He had made a mistake by watching the enemy he had already brought down.

“Rigar! On the rock!”

He ducked at Liya’s cry. A stone passed through the space where his head had been, and Mike’s arrow struck the goblin that had thrown it.

At the passage, Thorn caught an attack on his shield and shoved his opponent onto Basto’s spear. When another tried to circle around him, he brought his axe down on it.

Minak suddenly screamed.

A blade slashed his thigh, and his leg buckled. Before a second thrust could reach him, a mass of water surged from Liya’s staff and knocked the goblin sideways. It slammed into the cart, where Thorn finished it with a single blow.

Three of the smaller goblins remained, retreating between the crates.

Then the ground trembled beneath a heavy footstep.

The chief emerged, roaring so loudly that its voice echoed between the rocks. It smashed a crate with its club, sending splinters flying, then charged toward Thorn.

“Move!”

Rigar shoved Thorn by the shoulder. The club caught the edge of his shield, splitting it and throwing him to the ground.

Rigar stepped between him and the monster.

Up close, the head of the club was larger than his chest.

It rose again.

He leaped aside. The nails struck the ground, and a shard of stone hit him in the side. His breath caught, but he carried the movement through and slashed the monster’s right leg.

The blade cut into its flesh without bringing it down.

The chief turned faster than he expected and swung its elbow. The blow caught his shoulder, sending him rolling across the ground.

“Rigar!” Mike shouted.

“Stay with the others!”

He rose onto one knee. The three remaining goblins were pressing his companions. If they abandoned their positions, Minak and Liya would be exposed.

The chief advanced, dragging its club.

Rigar tried to gather fire in his palm, but the flame flickered with his uneven breathing.

Aris’s voice came back to him.

“Breathe out. Your shoulders are too tense.”

He exhaled.

The flame narrowed and steadied.

He hurled it at the monster’s face. The chief raised an arm to shield itself, and Rigar stepped beneath it, striking the straps along the side of its chest. One snapped, leaving an iron plate hanging loose.

But he was too slow to withdraw.

The club came down at an angle. He threw himself behind a rock. Its edge shattered, showering his back with fragments.

He could unleash stronger flames, but he could not be certain they would hit the chief alone. And every sweeping attack with his sword left him unable to change direction quickly enough.

He wiped the dirt from his mouth and watched the monster’s feet.

Whenever it raised the club, it shifted its weight onto its right leg.

He stepped out from behind the rock.

“Over here!”

The chief charged. Rigar sent his Glow into the ground ahead of it, raising a ridge of stone beneath its foot.

The ridge shattered under its weight.

Rigar’s eyes widened.

But the foot stumbled for a moment.

That was enough for him to evade the blow and move toward the exposed side. His sword cut into the wounded leg a second time, and he withdrew before the club swung back.

The chief bellowed, following him with uneven steps.

Rigar did not stop. He darted in again and cut the remaining straps, sending the plates sliding off the monster’s chest. He backed away from one blow and circled around another. Whenever the distance between them widened, he sent out a short burst of flame that forced the chief to raise its arm.

Beside the cart, Basto stared at him.

“He’s driving it back…”

“Watch your side!” Liya shouted.

Basto tore his gaze away and raised his spear against one of the smaller goblins.

The chief retreated until its leg struck a rock. It raised its club in both hands and let out a harsh roar.

Rigar planted his feet.

This time, he waited for the shift in weight.

When the monster’s right leg bore most of its weight, he pushed his Glow into the ground beneath the edge of its foot. A small, slanted block of stone rose beneath it. The ankle twisted, and the knee buckled.

Rigar’s left hand released a burst of fire in front of its eyes.

The chief squeezed its eyes shut, and its club came crashing down wide of its target.

Rigar stepped in from the side. Gripping his sword with both hands, he drove it into the chest that had lost its armor.

The monster’s arms went rigid.

He pushed the blade deeper, then pulled it free and staggered back.

The chief dropped to its knees. It tried to raise its club, but its fingers loosened, and the weapon slipped from its grasp. Then it collapsed forward.

Rigar stood with his sword raised, waiting for it to move again.

It did not.

Behind him, Thorn shouted, “That’s the last one!”

Rigar slowly lowered his sword. His forearm had begun to tremble. He had to rest the blade against the ground.

Mike approached, pressing a hand to his bleeding shoulder.

“You said you knew magic… You didn’t say you could do that.”

Rigar tried to smile.

“I wasn’t sure I could, either.”

They checked the clearing before entering the cave. All twelve goblins were dead, along with their chief, and their party had lost no one.

A spear had wounded Mike’s shoulder. Thorn’s shoulder was swollen, and a painful bruise was forming over Basto’s ribs. Minak’s thigh wound needed a tight bandage. Liya sat down for a while to catch her breath, having used most of her Glow.

She washed Rigar’s wound with clean water, and he wrapped it in a strip of cloth. His shoulder hurt whenever he moved it, but he managed to return his sword to its sheath.

“The women,” he said, getting to his feet.

His ring lit up, and they went inside.

They found sacks of grain and stolen tools first. Then they heard movement behind a wooden barrier.

When Basto pulled it aside, a woman shrank back into the darkness and raised her arms to shield her face.

Rigar stopped at the opening.

“We’re from the village. We’ve come to take you home.”

She did not answer.

Liya stepped forward and called her by name. The woman recognized her voice and burst into tears.

Five women were still alive, weakened by hunger and thirst. At the far end of the recess, beneath a tattered covering, they found the bodies of the other two.

Mike knelt before one of them. He remained silent, then took off his cloak and covered her face.

They helped the survivors drink and cut the bindings from their wrists. Basto repaired the cart’s axle with what he found among the tools. They placed the two bodies and the weakest survivors on the cart, while the others walked with their rescuers’ support. Most of the supplies were left behind for the villagers to collect later.

Rigar took hold of the front of the cart beside Basto, and they began the journey back.

When the gate came into view, the boy who had been gathering barley spotted them. He dropped what he was holding and ran, shouting.

People poured out of their houses.

A woman rushed toward her daughter, and the two sank to the ground beside the road, holding each other. A man lifted his wife from the cart, repeating her name as though he feared she might disappear if he fell silent.

Then those standing at the gate saw the bodies.

The cheers faded. An elderly man approached and lifted the edge of one of the cloaks. Then he sat on the ground beside the wheel.

Rigar released the cart’s handle. He could find nothing to say.

The village chief stepped forward and bowed deeply.

“You came to us as a stranger and did what we could not. You brought our people back… and gave us the chance to bury those we lost.”

Rigar took his arm and helped him straighten.

“Your men and Liya were with me. I couldn’t have brought them back alone.”

They spent the rest of the day tending the wounded and comforting the families. After Rigar had eaten, sleep overtook him before he could take off his boots.

The next morning, he was securing his belongings when the chief approached, with Liya behind him.

The old man handed him a sack of bread and provisions.

“For the road. And I have one more request.”

Rigar looked up.

“Take Liya with you. She’s a good mage. She’ll be useful on your journey.”

Rigar stopped fastening his pack.

“With me? I can’t do that. I’m heading to Botsdar now, but I’ll keep traveling afterward. I don’t know where I’ll settle.”

Liya took a step forward.

“I asked him to speak to you. You won’t even notice I’m there, and I won’t be a burden. I can help you. Please.”

“She has no family here,” the chief said, “and no one who can teach her more than she already knows. She’ll spend her days guarding these houses and working in the fields, no matter how much talent she has. With someone as strong as you, she may find a future worthy of her.”

Rigar looked at her.

“The road won’t be safe.”

“I know. I was there with you yesterday.”

He remembered the mass of water that had knocked the knife away from Minak. Then he remembered Aris opening her door to him, back when he had owned nothing in this world.

He remained silent for a few moments before sighing.

“All right. But don’t promise I won’t notice you’re there. I’ll need someone to watch my back.”

Her smile widened.

“Then you’re saying yes?”

“We’re leaving shortly.”

She ran off to pack. The chief watched her go before turning back to him.

“We won’t forget what you’ve done, Rigar. You’ll always be the savior of Bird’s Nest.”

A little later, Rigar and Liya passed through the gate. Behind them, men had begun lifting planks to repair the fence. Voices called their farewells until the distance swallowed them.

At the fork in the road, Rigar pointed to the sign.

“Botsdar is this way.”

Liya adjusted her pack and fell into step beside him, heading toward the capital.