The Iron Teeth

Honor Among Thieves 1

Blacknail woke up the next morning to the feeling of someone beating him savagely. He twitched and gasped as waves of pain exploded through his head and stomach.

The stabbing agony in his skull hurt so much he could barely think and his stomach felt like it was trying to explode messily out of both ends of his body at the same time. He had no idea what he'd done to deserve this torture.

The goblin tried to remember if he had done anything wrong, but he couldn't recall anything bad. In fact, he couldn't remember much of anything. He fought through the pain and slowly opened his eyes.

At first the light blinded his eyes and it took awhile for them to adjust. Why was it so bright out? Was he outside the sewer? He never left the sewer during the day!

He hoped he hadn't been attacked by a goblin, or group of goblins, looking to take his position in the tribe again. He was one of the older goblins and had managed to fight his way up to a fairly high rank, although he had been too lazy to go all the way to the top and become the tribe chief.

Blacknail knew he was much tougher than the big nasty goblin that was the current chieftain. He just didn't want to fight him...

Some of the younger goblins had been getting uppity lately though, and food had been running a bit low. The sewer could only support so many goblins. Through the fingers shielding his face Blacknail took a quick look around for his assailants.

He was outside and there was nobody around! Had his attackers left? Just then he had to double over and gag as his guts writhed like they were full of snakes.

Oh, there they were! His assailants were apparently inside of him and beating him from the inside out.  The goblin groaned and tried desperately to fade back into unconsciousness, where the pain couldn't follow.

His futile attempt at slumber was interrupted as he felt a hand grab his neck and pull him into the air. He was too weak to try and fight it. All he could do was moan and flail weakly before giving up and going limp. What the heck was going on? He couldn't remember where he was. He hoped his death would at least be quick.

The hand suddenly let go of him and Blacknail landed painfully on something flat and solid made of rough wood. The impact shook him and cleared his head for a second. His name was Blacknail; he had a name. He remembered where he was.

Surely, the forest had to have been a bad dream. The part with the spiders was just too horrible to have been real!

Blacknail sat up unsteadily and looked around. He was sitting on the edge of one of the wagons the bandits had taken from the caravan. His master Saeter towered over him, casting his shadow over the goblin.

"Good morning Blacknail!" Saeter smugly greeted him as the goblin looked up.

"Ow," Blacknail then moaned as he tried to curl up into a ball again.

Saeter chuckled and pulled him back into a sitting position. Once he knew he had the goblin's attention he started talking.

"That should teach you that alcohol isn't for goblins," Saeter told the goblin.

"Ow," Blacknail grunted.

"Stay here in the wagon, Blacknail. I left some food and water out for you. I'll be back in a while to see if you're feeling better," Saeter told the disoriented goblin.

His master then went through his bags before leaving the goblin and walking away.

With a groan Blacknail collapsed back onto the wagon's deck. After a few minutes of suffering he heard the whinny of horses and the cart shook and started moving. So, Blacknail once again found himself riding on a bumpy wagon along the forest road. At least this time he wasn't stuck in a cage.