Goblin Slayer - Volume 11 - Chapter Pr

Long ago they scattered our sand like the stars, 

then lay to rest on a faraway brilliant land. 

Bend an ear to hear our whispered words: 

a tale of the sound of the wind… 

Pause - Rogues' Run

The particles of sand that leaped into the air caught the moonlight and sparkled like gems. 

Was it simple escapism to entertain such thoughts when they were so inappropriate to the time and place? Regardless, it only lasted a second. The horse-drawn carriage crashed back down to earth, and I frowned as I nearly bit my tongue. 

It was hard to call this conveyance a horse-drawn carriage anyway. It was being pulled by a kelpie with a mane of froth. And it didn’t have wheels such as one might imagine on a carriage; it had runners. It was effectively a sleigh. 

“GGORRRORB!” 

“GBG! GGROOROGB!!” 

And with the riders jabbering behind, one could be forgiven for seeking a bit of escapism, even if it was in the middle of a getaway. Maybe it wasn’t even proper to call them riders, these diminutive soldiers mounted on dogs. 

“Ha-ha-ha! Hell of a thing, this. How’d we get into this mess anyway?” 

“I’m not sure this is a laughing matter.” 

I pulled my overcoat tighter around me and stole a glance at the two rogues having their jaunty conversation. A man in a military cap who looked like a spy held a crossbow at the ready, watching vigilantly out the back of the carriage. Beside him was an elf girl with red hair, her own overcoat pulled almost to her eyes; she seemed at ease despite the careering vehicle. I could hardly believe she was the same race as I. Could even a noble elf become thus if she grew accustomed enough to life in the urban sprawl? 

In addition to those two, there was the young man driving, a cleric girl, and a wizard who didn’t look quite right. I still mistrusted the princess’s decision to put her life in the hands of such rogues. 

“Can’t you use the gun like you usually do?” 

“Could, but it’s gonna take more than one or two shots to finish this.” The spy grinned, then pulled the trigger on his crossbow. There was an audible snap as the mechanism deployed, then several bolts went flying. 

“GORGB?!” 

“GGBBOOGB?!” 

The little arrows pierced the riders’ leather armor, and they were unhorsed—or perhaps that would be undogged—and tumbled out of sight. The spy seemed to handle the crossbow easily despite its considerable recoil; he remained alert even as he produced more ammunition. There was a click as he readied the new rounds, and he shrugged with remarkable cool for someone who had just killed several opponents. 

“Besides, there’s all this shaking. Could never get a solid aim with a pistol.” 

“Hey, are you insulting my driving?” the well-built driver demanded. He was a sprite-user who was controlling the kelpie. 

The spy was unmoved. “I’m just saying none of us are used to all this sand.” 

“Hot during the day, cold at night, isn’t it,” the elf said, but she didn’t sound too upset; she even smiled. “How about you? Doing okay?” 

“In all honesty, I’d like to get away from this,” replied a petite human girl. I thought I recognized the holy symbol bouncing at her chest as the mark of the God of Knowledge. The girl had been meditating in a corner of the carriage; she must have returned her flying spirit to her body to give this answer. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and, sounding somewhat put out, added, “…I mean the climate and our friends out there.” 

“Still more coming?” the spy grumbled. 

“Yeah,” the cleric replied with a nod. “They’re as fired up as we are. They don’t have any wizards or priests, but they do have numbers. More than ten of them, I’d guess.” The girl must have used some kind of miracle, for she sounded as if she had observed them firsthand. But then she gave the spy a puzzled look. “Can’t you see them with your Bat Eye?” 

“Don’t wanna,” he said, frowning openly. 

“Now, now, you have to face reality,” came an unexpected voice. It belonged to a strange creature that had popped its head out from among the luggage. It looked like some wizard’s familiar, and it had been the go-between that brought these rogues and us together—or so I was told. I was not, however, especially pleased to trust my destiny to this bizarre thing and some master who refused to show their face. I had no idea how these rogues could trust a wizard who got no closer to danger than length of their familiar. 

“Now, I understand this may not seem like the most opportune moment, but I’d like to review the terms of the assignment.” Almost as if it could read my mind, the creature glanced at me. “We were to get you out of that castle and deliver you to the nearest village. Does that sound right?” 

“Indeed. We don’t intend to lean on your skills beyond that.” 

“You know that means we can’t help after this no matter what happens to you, not even if you get caught by bandits or slavers or something.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “Nothing so foolish would befall us.” I puffed out my chest. 

The elf wizard frowned, but I was only interested in having something done about the situation we were in at this moment. These people the princess had retained to aid us, people whose names we didn’t even know, were at this moment, our only lifeline. My colleague—my friend—beside me grinned and whistled. This was why nobody liked rheas. 

“Eek?!” I exclaimed involuntarily. An arrow tore through the curtain and buried itself not far from me. Apparently the small riders had come within bowshot. Now I could hear the rhythmic whizzing of arrows slicing through the air, more and more of them smacking into the carriage. Our vehicle looked all but defenseless. As far as I could see, we were doomed. 

“A-anyway!” I shouted. “Your reward has been paid in advance, so at least earn it!” Even I knew that the best we could hope for if we were captured was to be put to forced labor in the mines. 

“Don’t have to shout,” the spy said nonchalantly. Then he kicked a bundle of rope off the luggage rack. It bounced across the sandy ground like a ball, coming loose and wrapping itself around the legs of some of our pursuers. 

“GOOOOOBG?!” 

“GR?! GOGBB?!” 

They were stuck in it like flies in a spider’s web. As soon one of them tumbled, he got the others caught up with him. Even the sounds of the ones who were busy mocking their companion for his ineptitude soon faded behind us, and that was it for them. 

“Never hurts to be prepared,” the spy sniffed. Then he leaned out past the curtain, crossbow and all, and called to the driver, “Can’t you get any more speed out of this thing? Might not be so lucky next time.” 

“Kelpie’ll get ticked off and go home,” the driver replied. “And you owe me for that rope.” 

“Be happy to compensate you for it, if you can pull your weight as our sprite-user.” 

“Too many wind sprites around here. If this was a coastline, I could run all the way to the edge of the board; easy.” 

“Oh,” the elf, who had been deep in thought, said suddenly. 

“What’s up?” the spy replied. 

“…Mm, just a thought.” 

I looked at the elf suspiciously. In my opinion, spell slingers were hardly different from stage magicians. The spy didn’t so much as glance at her; he remained focused on aiming his crossbow. “Think we can turn this around in one fell swoop?” 

“I swear on the great magus Garfield’s Power Nine.” 

“Good by me.” 

That was the entirety of their conversation. He didn’t ask if she could actually do it. For the spy, the brief chat appeared to be enough; he grinned and pulled the trigger of his crossbow. There was another bap-bap-bap of arrows flying, and more of the riders were swept away. 

“GGBOORGB?!” 

“GRORB! GGGBORGB!!” 

That didn’t eliminate all our pursuers, though. The enemy showed no sign of letting up. They weren’t courageous exactly. They just believed they were different from the idiots who got shot. 

“Hmph, popular guests we have…,” the cleric of the God of Knowledge said in an exasperated tone. She waved a hand in the air and said quietly, “O Guardian of the Candle, smile upon my light, which bows not before ignorance, stupidity, faithlessness, or pride.” 

A bluish light darted through the air, followed the arc of her fingers, and settled directly in front of one dog’s nose. 

“GOOGB!!” 

“GOOBGBR?!” 

The riders struggled to control their quailing mounts, whereupon the crossbow sang out again. Our pursuers were in no position to dodge the bolts, which lodged in their necks and sent them tumbling to the ground. More riders leaped over them, though, howling and brandishing weapons as they surged forward. Witnessing this, the girl who served the God of Knowledge smiled coolly. “Did that help you conserve your arrows a little?” 

“Don’t think you have to worry about that anymore,” the spy said, pulling some kind of cylinder from his hip. “Those were my last shots.” 

I was agog at the poor planning and the indifference, and my eyes only got wider at what happened next. There was a thump so great I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, and the carriage was filled with a blinding flash of light followed by equally obscuring smoke. 

“GOOGBR?!” 

One of the riders had actually laid a hand on the luggage rack of the carriage, but he now tumbled away, his head looking like a smashed fruit. The spy must have braced the cylinder against his bent left arm and then let loose with it. 

“What a barbaric weapon…!” 

Maybe I sounded more derisive than I had meant to, but the spy shrugged and produced a package wrapped in oilpaper, also at his hip. He tore it open with his teeth, emptying the fire powder and balls into the mouth of the cylinder. Then he tossed the bundle to the floor of the carriage and calmly took up position again. 

Terribly frustrated—not frightened, I assure you—I looked at the elf. She was just muttering something with her eyes closed; I didn’t think I had seen her do any actual work before this moment. I opened my mouth to speak, thinking I would give her a piece of my mind, but my rhea friend tugged on my arm, stopping me. 

“What? You think I should keep out of it?” I said. I was about to remark that this was hardly the time, but I was stopped by the girl’s voice, which suddenly seemed overwhelming. 

“Caelum…ego…,” she intoned with tremendous clarity. Even I, who had no propensity for magic, knew they were words of true power. The faint jangling of the gold charm around my neck proved it. Wind began to spin up at her words, and I felt the air itself tremble. She was an elf—of course she would control the wind. “…offero! I offer up the heavens!” 

As the girl concluded her spell, a great gust sprang up. It was a damp, heavy wind. 

The mounts were more sensitive than the riders. All of them stopped in their tracks to look up at the sky. 

“GORGB…?” After berating their animals for a moment, even the riders noticed the change in the atmosphere and looked up as well. 

Great black clouds spread across the horizon. There was a sound like the grumble of a thunder dragon. And then: splish. The first drop of the spell hit the earth. 

Rain. 

Rain slammed into the sand so hard that it blocked out all sound and sight until the world was as dark as ink. 

It didn’t do damage, of course. It was just rain—a monsoon. The riders realized this soon enough and began to laugh, putting the spurs to their dogs. 

“KEEEEEEEEELLLLP!!” 

But their confidence was misplaced. The kelpie whinnied proudly as its hooves struck the sand, and it took off at a full trot. It went faster, then faster again until it was swifter than the wind, speedier than the rising of the sun; it traveled like a storm. The foam from its mane flew even into the passenger compartment of the carriage, forcing me to blink. My rhea friend was cackling and whistling and clapping. 

While I sat totally silent, my fellow elf girl let out a breath. 

“Nice work,” the spy said, and the girl smiled and nodded. 

“Thanks,” she replied. “Now we just have to run.” 

“Leave that to me,” the driver cut in. “You’ve heard of running between the raindrops? Well, we are the raindrops!” 

“I’ll keep an eye out the back anyway, just in case,” the cleric of the God of Knowledge said, patting the creature, which had taken up residence on her knees. “I doubt the Bat Eye works in the rain anyway.” 

“Spare me your sarcasm.” The spy frowned, then grabbed one of the enemy arrows that had come through the curtain. He put it and the rest in his quiver—perhaps this was what passed for preparation with him. I questioned whether they would be useful, being longer than normal ammunition, but he seemed bent on using them regardless. He continued in a light tone: “Eh, if they catch up to us…” 

“They won’t,” the driver said. “And I’m going to remember the rope.” 

The spy shrugged without so much as a smile and changed tack: “If anyone new shows up, I’ll have these ready for them. You get some rest.” 

“I’m not that tired,” the red-haired girl objected, but then she smiled shyly and nodded. “Well, I should make ready anyway… I want to maintain this rain for a while, too.” With this earnest acknowledgment, she sat down in her corner of the carriage and pulled her knees up to her chin. She wasn’t looking at me or my friend or even her fellow rogues but somewhere in the distant sky. Realizing now that she was a Rainmaker, I privately revised my estimation of her. 

After a while, the wizard girl said, as if she found it all vaguely entertaining, “Still, that was my first time doing…that…” 

“Sounds dirty,” the cleric chided. 

“Huh?” the girl said, but then she realized and went red up to her long ears. “I—I didn’t mean it like that…!” 

“Hoh-hoh-hoh-hoh! Well, you are getting to that age. Spring is coming!” The small creature chortled merrily from the cleric’s knees. Then it turned around once and flicked its ears. “I get it, though. Runners don’t often get this kind of work.” 

“Yeah. Never figured I’d be doing it, actually.” The spy loaded his new ammunition into his crossbow, chewing over the words: “Goblin slaying. Feh!”