The Web of Iron

Chapter Seventeen: Battle on the Road

William and Marzel left with great fanfare into aside tunnel he hadn't seen before. From what he gathered, the road which he'd been planning to take only led deeper into the mountains. There were vast cities of goblins there. He'd have been lost and died for sure.

Privately he thanked Elranor for the landslide. Or whatever god may have been looking out for him. Then again, if the landslide hadn't happened, many goblins would still be alive. But then he wouldn't have seen that they weren't pure evil. And who knew how that revelation might affect things?

He was suddenly curious about the goblins. He looked to his guide as they walked. Marzel didn't move very quickly; his legs were short. So William had to check his pace to keep from walking past him.

"Marzel, I would test your knowledge of your people," said William.

"What is it, great one?" asked Marzel.

"To what purpose does the Withering King put the weapons you forge in his name?" asked William. He already suspected the answer, though.

"We make as vessels by which the Einheroth are born into," said Marzel. "The souls trapped in Withering is set into them. Forged into warriors of spirit and sword! Kill humans and protect us! Why you have face?"

"Hmm?" said William.

"Why you have face beneath mask?" asked Marzel again.

His scarf had fallen away. He thought of a way to answer without directly lying. "I was allowed to keep my mortal body until such a time as it grows old and dies."

"You be favored," guessed Marzel.

"Indeed," said William. "That is why this task was appointed to me. Another question, where do your people come from? How did they come to dwell in this place?"

"Once, long time ago, goblins dwell on land to far south," said Marzel. "We as many as stars and have big, big armies. Elves leave us alone; they not want underground, and dwarves too few to stop us. Then big bad human, Anoa Butcher, kill all elves. He help dwarves drive us out.

"He be killing us for years and years, and nothing could stop. But big chief Grakak get together tribe on ships he steal and sail north. There he meet Withering King and pledge to service."

"The original Withering King?" guessed William.

Marzel shook his head. "There only one Withering King. He change armor. You must be new Einheroth."

"I am new," admitted William.

"Armor just outward shell," said Marzel. "What inside is what counts. He put goblins to work tunneling and making fortresses for him under cold earth. He make big bad Einheroth to kill enemies and trap souls of warriors to fuel them."

"I see," said William.

The account, for what it was, was consistent with what he had heard from his histories. But Anoa the Bright had done so because the goblins were utterly evil and without hope of redemption. They had been a plague threatening to wipe out the dwarves. Or so the legends had said.