Goblins

"This river certainly is fast than the one your friends took me on," Davlena commented as they floated by endless banks of waist high saw grass.

"The faster the better," Lontel said. "Maybe we will reach Shangri-La in a couple of days at this rate." Davlena laughed. "Well, at least the crocodiles don’t seem to like fast water. I haven’t seen one. That means we won’t…" Lontel blinked and looked at the west bank again. There it still stood staring at them. "That is the biggest cat I have ever seen."

Davlena followed his eyes. "That’s no cat," she gasped. "That’s a lemonyx lion. Look at the spiked collar!" Lontel looked closely and could just make out a tan collar blending almost perfectly with the beast’s fur. Small spikes protruded from it. Davlena slumped dejectedly onto the supplies. "We have lost. When it leads the lemonyx to us, we won’t have a chance."

The lion began trotting along the bank following the dory as though studying it. Lontel eased his bow and quiver closer to him with his foot. At the same time, he began easing the boat towards the bank where the lion followed. If he was to get a shot at the animal, he would have to close the gap.

When they were about 75 yards from the beast, Lontel slid an arrow from the quiver and nocked it. At fifty yards, the lion sensed something and stopped. Quickly Lontel grabbed the bow and drew back. The lion bounded for cover as Lontel released his arrow. It whistled through the air and drove deep into his target’s belly. Silently the great cat disappeared into the grass of the plains.

Lontel steered the boat back to the middle of the river. "He won’t be tracking us again," he said proudly. Davlena sat morosely at the front of their floating home. "The least you could do is tell me what an excellent shot I made even if it was luck," he complained good-naturedly.

Davlena smiled. "Lontel, that was a most excellent shot, and I know no luck was involved." He blushed at her sincerity, but she was looking back to where the lion had disappeared. "I just hope your arrow completes it task before the lion completes his." Neither said much for the rest of the day.

When the sun relinquished the world to the moon and stars Davlena, whose eyesight was much keener than Lontel’s in the dark, took over the steering. Early the next morning Lontel had Davlena steer them to the east bank. He jumped out of the boat and hurried into the green, dew-covered grass.

"Where are you going?" Davlena called after him. At first she heard no reply other than a slight grunting.

"I am relieving myself," Lontel finally answered from the grass.

Davlena laughed. "Why did you run out there? Surely you could have emptied your bowels here as easily as out there."

Lontel blushed. Didn’t elves know anything? He started to answer but Davlena’s gasp stopped him. Quickly he pulled up his pants and ran to the boat. Davlena was upriver staring at the ground. He grabbed his sword and trotted to where she stood. He stared down in wonder at the footprints in the mud. There were too many of varying sizes to be counted, but all of them had the same general shape, that of a human’s except the toes and ball of the foot went straight across – and there were six toes.

"Goblin tracks," Davlena whispered.

"Goblins?" Lontel asked blankly.

Davlena looked at him exasperated. "Yes, Lontel, goblins." He shrugged. They meant nothing to him since he had never even heard of them. As they walked back to the boat, Davlena could not stand Lontel’s nonchalance. "Lontel, we are no longer in your fantasy world of Sepultha. We’re in the real world now. In the real world there are elves, wizards, goblins, trolls, dwarves, and countless other creatures who can think just as you do. Almost none of them are friendly. Most would as soon kill you as not. In fact, most will go out of their way to do it and then dine on your bones."

"Of course," Lontel said soothingly. Davlena’s eyes sparkled with anger. How had this dolt survived so long?! She climbed into the boat and Lontel began pushing it off after putting his sword in it. Suddenly the grass behind him rustled and he heard guttural yips and yammers that sent a chill racing down his spine.

"Goblins!" Davlena screamed. Without thinking, Lontel grabbed his sword and whirled. For a moment his mind blanked as he gaped at the monstrosities attacking them. The largest stood only to his shoulder, but its head was much too large for its rotund body. Its arms reached nearly to the ground, and it carried a huge, spiked club. It had pointed tufted ears, small black eyes, a huge flaring snout, and a maw that drooled saliva down protruding fangs. The others were smaller hideous copies of the first.

An arrow whistled by Lontel’s ear and drove deeply into one of the smaller ones. It screamed piercingly and fell to the ground rolling in agony as it bit and clawed at the shaft of death. The others continued their charge. Lontel caught a club with his sword then whipped it down gutting the lead goblin. He retreated into the water swinging his sword in wide arcs, trying to keep the howling beasts at bay. Arrows continued to strike.

"Steer for the middle current," he called as he deflected a blow from the largest goblin. Quickly it drew back and swung again. Lontel could only partially deflect the blow. One spike raked across his shoulder and blood flowed down his arm. Whining and slavering at the sight and smell, the goblin jumped at the wound. Lontel drove his sword into the open maw and down the goblin’s throat. Gurgling, it sank into the water. Lontel retreated further, the water tugging at his legs. Several small goblins tried to reach him, but the current ripped them off their feet. Seeing this, Lontel dropped under the water and pushed off the bottom for the middle of the river.

When he surfaced, he saw the boat far down river with Davlena steering a course down the middle as instructed. Lontel slid his sword into his pants and with one stiff leg began swimming steadily towards his sanctuary. Even with the water splashing and filling his ears, he heard the anguished screams of the wounded goblins as their comrades fell on them hungrily. After what seemed an eternity, Lontel grabbed the side of the boat and with Davlena’s help crawled over the side.

"Now do you believe in goblins?" she asked as he pulled the sword out of his pants’ leg. Before he could answer she saw his shoulder. "You’ve been hurt! Just lay there and let me make up a bandage." Lontel needed no encouragement not to move. His muscles protested everything but not moving.

After she had finished cleaning and bandaging the wound, Lontel forced his body to take over the steering. Davlena went to the bow and made herself comfortable. She smiled sweetly at Lontel seeing something was bothering him.

"If I hadn’t had to relieve myself, none of this would have happened," he said at last. Davlena said nothing. "What I am wondering," he continued, "is why you haven’t had to do the same, not even once."

"Elves have different bodies than most animals. Whatever we eat, we use completely so there is no waste to be discarded. That is also why I don’t need to eat as much as you." She saw his real question hadn’t been answered. "To answer your unspoken question, I am not built like a woman. I do not have an opening that is permanently exposed so any man can force himself on me and get his pleasure."

"Surely you didn’t think…"

"No, but you were wondering how we elves propagate." Davlena laughed. "If you get me to Shangri-La, I will be more than happy to let you witness it."

"You, you would let someone see you fu…, uh, fornicate?!" Lontel stammered.

Davlena gave him a curious look. "Of course. It is a time of rejoicing and celebration. It is also a time one never forgets, so it should be shared with friends." Lontel sat dumbfounded. He was no voyeur, but he couldn’t very well turn down such an invitation. After all, it sounded as though it would be expected of him, since he and Davlena were… friends.

He smiled. Who else in the world could he call by that name? No one. He started to say as much, but saw she was asleep.