A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor - Chapter 42: Battle With The Goblins - Part 8

Chapter 42: Battle With The Goblins – Part 8

“If I catch them out hunting,” he said, his heart beating faster, “they’ll be more spread out and can make better use of their numbers, so that’s a disadvantage too. I wonder if I could take them out one by one, just using my speed?” Emotionally, his body thought it was a good idea, but he got no response from his master. He clenched his fist, finding the lack of response discouraging, but decided to stick with it anyway.

He stood up from his crouched position and stretched out his shoulders, checking the condition of his body after a long run. He wasn’t a hundred percent energized, but he was getting used to performing when exhausted, thanks to Dominus’ tutelage. Now, if anything, since his limbs were a little tired, he felt more comfortable.

“I’ll go north,” he decided, “and try to catch them individually while they’re hunting.”

It was the best guess he could manage, but he still wasn’t confident in it. He took the dagger Dominus had given him from the sheath at his belt and drew it, moving into the trees that the footprints pointed towards, moving as stealthily as he knew how.

He found immediately that following the same path as the Goblins was hard – for they were at least half the size he was, or so he assumed, from the stories he had heard and the feet he’d seen.

Beam was not a tall boy by any stretch. Dominus was average height, and Beam was still a couple of fingers smaller than him. So for a Goblin to be half his size meant they were truly miniature, and the comparison to a child was fair game.

But it was only in height and strength that the comparison fit. For, already Beam could see a viciousness to their actions that did not match children. He spotted the freshly killed corpse of a squirrel, torn into pieces, its bones scattered through the trees. Beam looked at it in horror, feeling a terrible sense of wrongness.

Whilst predators were often known to leave the corpses of their prey in quite a mess, this was different. This was as though the squirrel had personally offended them. This seemed like a kill more out of rage than out of predatory instinct. It was immensely unsettling. Beam gulped, almost doubting his decision to attempt to hunt them and he continued onwards.

There were periods of rockiness amongst the trees where the Goblins’ footprints faded, but for the most part, they were relatively easy to track thanks to the rain. Beam thought it was peculiar that such intelligent creatures wouldn’t move with more caution. Then he supposed that it would only be humans that would be tracking the Goblins by eyesight – the other creatures would be going off their scents – and it was likely humans that the Goblins feared least.

The further along the trail of footprints that Beam followed, the more it seemed like he was making a mistake. After all, the Goblins themselves seemed to have no fear of humans. They seemed even blatant about their actions, barrelling over the well-worn hunting tracks that the local hunters had worn down over many seasons of hard walking. These were ‘mistakes’ that would be easy to avoid, yet they didn’t seem to even attempt it.

‘What even are Goblins?’ Beam fell to wondering. As he followed their trail of destruction, he realised that they were quite unlike any other animal that he had ever seen. He found more corpses of small animals along the route. That of small birds and more squirrels, with blood and flesh strewn against trees, as though the purpose of the kill had merely been to make a mess.

Beam had to keep looking over his shoulder to make sure that Dominus was still with him, as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck steadily stick further and further up, and a cold sweat ran down the length of his back.

Ten minutes into following the Goblin’s trail with Dominus’ dagger in hand, Beam had to come to a stop and collect himself.

He was breathing far heavier than he ever had been during the run. His heart was pounding as his adrenaline was racing. He held a hand to his chest, whilst noticing the queasiness in his stomach. He recognized the emotion – but only barely. It was fear. He held his hand up in front of his face and saw that it was quivering with the emotion. A true honest to goodness fear.

He caught his master looking at him, and he embarrassedly tried to hide his hands and, in turn, his fear. But nothing escaped the old knight’s eyes. It was only natural after all, when faced with a threat that could end your life, without the experience of ever dealing with it, how could fear not make itself known?

“Don’t try to suppress your fear,” Dominus told him, speaking for the first time in what felt like hours to Beam. The boy looked up sharply, receiving the piece of advice. “Every emotion you have has utility, even the ones scorned by normal folk. Fear is such an emotion. Fear is a liquid. Fear is an armour that will protect you. Fear will always find where you are weakest, and concentrate itself there. It is the emotion of perception. Do not deny its utility.”

Beam cocked his head as he received the advice, trying to understand it. “Fear as a liquid?” He repeated, not quite getting it. He only really understood the part of fear as perception, for when he was frightened, his senses were certainly heightened, and he would flinch at even the most minor things.

“Am I… Am I going about this right?” Beam asked anxiously, not raising a question about his fear, but about his chosen method for attacking the Goblins.

Dominus merely shrugged again as he received the question. “This is a matter of strategy, and like I told you, I’m far from being the best strategist in the world. However, there are a few tried and proven methods of going about this, ones that even someone as poorly versed in strategy as me can carry out. But I won’t let you in on any yet. This here is a problem, young Beam. One of many that will confront you in the future. In the same way that you are able to tell what path to take as you run through the mountains, you must decide on a route to victory here. It doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to get you where you need to be.”

Beam gulped. Even though he didn’t feel a relief of the pressure, since his master still didn’t give him any of the answers that he sought, he still felt strangely reassured just by talking about it, with Dominus’ excessive calm rubbing off on him. To the old knight, the whole affair must have seemed so trivial, for Beam couldn’t sense the slightest bit of unease from him. In fact, he looked more laid back than he ever had, as though he was more comfortable in positions like this than he was sitting by the fire in an evening.