Harm’s vision seemed much better at night now. It may have been because he was slowly getting used to the lower light levels in the clan at night in comparison to his previous life, but he couldn’t be sure. Dafu had given Harm a somewhat confused look on their return with the new clan members when he had seen the colour of his eyes. Whatever had happened to him had become a permanent feature.
The party was currently almost half a day’s trip past Kartoon. They had been out for three days now. Harm had gone with the group, leaving Dafu back at the clan, overseeing things. The problem they still faced was that, although their numbers had improved, the equipment and weapons the clan owned were insufficient for an attack on Sallew. Harm knew how well the town guards were equipped in comparison, and although they may not be the most skilled or trained fighters, their armour and weapons could easily make all the difference. That is why the group of nine was currently hunkered down by the side of the main route, where the track branched. To the north lay Kartoon, while to the south was the large town of Fallow. The branched road cut further into the plains, where Harm knew there were several villages.
Harm had chosen this spot deliberately, as the track’s surface was poor. The rocky, dry surface was pitted and uneven, so wagons would need to slow down to pass through it safely, or risk breaking their spokes. A ditch on one side, where they were positioned, and a steep embankment on the other prevented the wagons from turning off the tracks. This also hindered the guards on horseback.
Fallow was the closest auction house to the area unless they travelled to the territory’s only city. However, with the number of guards and patrols, they could risk going nowhere near either.
Acloo had just returned. “There is a three-wagon caravan coming. I couldn’t see what they were carrying because the wagons were covered. They appear to have only four guards with them. Two are on horseback, and then two more riding on the wagons.”
This was the third caravan that was due to pass since they had arrived. The previous two had been too well protected, and Harm didn’t want to chance unnecessary casualties or losses. Several single traders or similar had passed, but Harm had ignored them, knowing that unless they had a guard with them, it was unlikely that they carried anything worthwhile. This wasn’t always the case, but a guarded caravan would definitely at least have something the clan could hopefully use. “Those on horseback could be a problem. We will need to deal with them first,” Harm said.
“Luubu, tell Nathic and Jillew they are to go for the riders,” Harm said, speaking to her.
Nathic and Jillew had both proven their skills with bows and would be the best to attack those on horseback. Luubu slipped away, and Harm watched her disappear further into the brush towards where he knew they were positioned. The goblins did not group. They were spaced along the track, and they had all been given instructions not to do anything until they heard Harm.
Harm’s palms felt sweaty as he crouched, waiting for the caravan to arrive. Acloo was still crouched next to him. “How far were they?” Harm asked, frowning. It felt like an age since he had returned and told them they were coming.
“I can hear them now. They won’t be long,” Acloo said.
Another minute passed before Harm eventually heard horses and then voices as the caravan neared. Harm had told the goblins not to kill those on the caravan, if possible, only if they resisted or attacked. He was still struggling with his inner demon, which continually vied for blood and death. Over the past few days, he had come close to murdering one or more of the goblins, as he had become close to losing his temper over ridiculous things. If the voice had its way, Harm would have already attacked the town. It had sounded almost pleading at times, and at other times, it had sounded bored.
At last! At last! It’s about time! It said.
Harm shook his head and sighed. Acloo looked at him and frowned. Harm just smiled back and pointed down the track, where the sounds were getting louder. They would come around a bend ahead and then be visible from their position.
“Okay. On my command,” Harm said as he stood and moved onto the track. He lay down, facing away from the direction the caravan would be coming. His clothing had become tattered and blood-stained since he had joined the clan. He washed almost daily in the stream, but they had no way of getting new clothing. One of the goblins offered to make him some clothes from the skins after he complained, but they were not ready yet.
Harm lay prone on his stomach as he heard the clatter of the first wagon. “Whoa. Easy now,” the driver said as the horses whinnied and snorted. “Jackson. There’s someone on the track.” Harm heard a man call.
Harm could hear a horse as it approached, and he lay perfectly still.
“You get up,” a voice shouted. “I said, get up.”
Harm ignored it, not moving, as he heard the hooves of the horse nearing. It sounded on top of him, but he didn’t move.
“Dace. Come see if he is alive,” the nearest voice called.
Harm heard footsteps as another approached. His pulse raced, and his heart pounded in his chest as he lay waiting.
“He looks dead,” Dace said as he neared. “His clothes are blood-stained.”
Harm felt a boot on his side. “Oi. Are you alive?” Dace said.
Harm let out a groan, but didn’t move.
“He groaned,” Dace called. “Come on, fella, you’re blocking the path.”
Harm felt a hand reach for his shoulder as it went to roll him. As the man turned, Harm struck. He triggered Equip, and Florence appeared in his hand in an instant, and Dace didn’t even make a sound as she was thrust up through the man’s chin and into his brain, the kettle helm he had been wearing toppling from his head as Florence appeared. Blood gushed from the wound, soaking Harm as he screamed. “NOW.”
The closest horse, which had approached him initially with the man named Jackson, reared, kicking out. It wasn’t close enough to hit Harm, but his sudden movement had startled the horse.
“Shit,” Jackson said, gripping the reins tightly to stop him from being thrown from his mount.
An arrow flew towards the man, but as the horse had reared, it missed its target, instead burying itself deep in the horse’s flank. Upon hitting the ground, the horse ran. The panicked animal, a blur of sweat and muscle, thundered past him. Harm tried to throw himself sideways but wasn’t quick enough. A glancing blow from its flank, thankfully, only catching his pauldron, was still sufficient to send Harm staggering. The rider held on for dear life as the horse bolted.
Screams of terror came from the caravan as Harm gathered his senses. The rider needed to be dealt with, but they could never catch him on horseback. “Fuck,” Harm swore as it disappeared, hidden by the curve in the track and trees.
He turned and ran towards the nearest caravan. The horses stomped their hooves, and clouds of dust were kicked up, snorting and flaring their nostrils. The driver of the nearest wagon held a dagger, and as Arvu went to attack him, he slashed towards him. Arvu was one of the younger goblins and was not as experienced. In his enthusiasm to reach the man, he had climbed onto the caravan. The man’s dagger caught Arvu across his face, who screamed as he fell backwards, a vicious cut across his cheek.
“Bastard,” Harm bellowed as he sprinted towards him. The man’s fear was clear; Harm believed his reaction stemmed from instinct, not expertise. On seeing Harm charge at him, though armoured, blood-soaked and carrying a deadly long sword, the man squealed. Harm leapt onto the driver’s step. His height advantage over the goblins made it a much easier task as he lunged and plunged Florence through the man’s chest. The man’s eyes were open in shock as he heaved, coughing even more blood over Harm.
Harm stepped down again and looked down the line. The second guard on horseback carried a spear; an arrow stuck out of his shoulder where he had been struck. Luubu and Acloo were near him, short swords in hand, trying to hit him. The horse turned and skittered under his control, using the horse as a shield to prevent their attacks. He was skilled with the spear, and his thrusts kept both Luubu and Acloo at bay when open.
Three other fights were underway, and Harm watched as Orlew, one of his party, fell. A man with a longsword stepped back as his body hit the ground.
Kill him! The demon screamed.
Everything around Harm disappeared as his focus narrowed to that one man. He charged, his feet pounding, rage filling him, snarling like an animal as he ran towards him. The man heard the guttural scream and turned as Harm neared. The man’s eyes showed his terror. Fighting goblins was one thing, fighting an armoured man was another, and the confidence and immediate bravado from downing Orlew vanished in an instant.
He threw his sword upward as he blocked Harm’s initial blow. Florence was whipping across violently at the man’s midriff. He staggered from the blow, and that was all Harm required. His momentum still carried him forward as he crashed into the man’s shoulder, spinning him around. Harm brought Florence around in a sweeping strike, cutting into the man’s leg just below his knee. It wasn’t powerful enough to cleave or knock him over, due to the position and power Harm could muster from where he was, but it kept him staggering as Harm turned fully now. The guard wore only leather armour and a kettle helm.
With his side facing Harm, he thrust Florence. Fire-fuelled anger swept through his body as her blade pierced his side deeply. The man cried in pain as Harm withdrew Florence, and he fell to the ground. Harm didn’t stop; all he saw was a red mist as he brought Florence down again and again onto the man. The cries became whimpers and then silence as Harm carved into him.
The demon cackled with pleasure in his mind. More! More! Don’t stop now!
Harm continued, one, then another, as he helped his party against their foes. A woman screamed, leapt from a wagon, and fled down the track. Harm saw her going and, without a thought, he switched hands with Florence, calling a dagger and letting it fly. He watched as the blade spun through the air before thudding into the small of her back. He stalked over to where she lay groaning in pain and ended her life, driving Florence through the back of her neck.
Yes! The demon sang, its voice echoed in his mind.
Harm spun, and he watched as an arrow struck the lone rider. The arrow caught him on his side, and as he cried in pain, his guard dropped for a second. Acloo and Luubu pounced, dragging the man from his mount. In moments, he was subdued, his cries no more, as his life ended.
Harm rejoined the party, charging back into the fray. Several moments passed before he stood back, panting. The party all stood, looking at their victims or each other. Their breathing was heavy as silence reigned over them, the only sounds being their ragged breaths, the creaking of wagons, and the snorting of the horses that pulled them.
Luubu moved to where Orlew lay, bending and turning her head, her head shaking. He was dead.
“Fuck,” Harm cursed. His anger hadn’t subsided, and his vision was almost tunnel-like.
“Acloo, Nathic and Jillew. Go find that rider whose horse fled,” Harm snapped. The three goblins jumped at Harm’s command as they ran off down the track, the way the horse had bolted.
Luubu approached Harm, her look slightly wary. “Harm?” She said as she neared.
Harm glared at her for several moments. Her face was friendly, and she was someone he cared for. His body relaxed as the bloodlust seeped from him. Luubu earthed him, calming his outrage once more. As his aggression subsided, he took in the scene fully. Everyone from the caravans was dead. Not a soul remained living. Harm frowned upon seeing the carnage. A driver was decapitated. Multiple wounds covered another’s torso. Another woman lay half out of a wagon, her blood leaking to the ground beneath her. Harm still stood over the body of a guard.
“I said only kill those who resisted,” Harm said, looking at Luubu.
Luubu looked at Harm with surprise. “What do you mean?”
“That woman looks unarmed,” Harm said, pointing with Florence.
“Harm,” Luubu paused, approaching nearer. “You killed her and the other drivers.”
No, it made little sense. There had been no threat; only the first wagon driver had shown any resistance, and as Harm stood, visions of pleading faces flooded his mind. The woman and the drivers were begging for mercy as Harm had ended their lives.
Harm shook lightly at first, before the shaking intensified. He fell to his knees, releasing Florence, holding his head in his hands.
The voices sounded distant as the goblins surrounded him, clearly worried. Luubu crouched by his side, fear and remorse coursing through his body. Tears fell, and he sobbed.
“Harm. Are you okay?” Luubu asked, holding him. Harm leaned forward against her shoulder, resting his head as he sobbed, his body wracked with grief, frustration, and fear. Fear, above all else.
What am I becoming? He thought.
The demon laughed hysterically as Harm cried.
Luubu stroked Harm’s head gently like she would a newborn sprogling. Her face furrowed with concern. “We need to move; we can’t stay here, and we must tend to Orlew,” Luubu said softly.
