A Terrible Knight

Schlap. Schlap. Schlap. Dozens of grimy feet slapped through the abandoned warehouse, kicking up dirt and guck. Incomprehensible, angry chitter filled the air, bouncing off the rickety walls. Little green and gray heads with large, pointed ears began to pop up from seemingly nowhere, to welcome home their families, and see what all the fuss was about. Goblins rushed through the warehouse, baring their yellow, saliva-covered teeth in angry defeat. One small goblin, with rough gray skin and little wisps of white hair ran up to another, tugging on the ripped and stained tunic she adorned.

“Mother,” he said in his raspy, grainy voice, “What happened? Why you back so soon?” She turned to him, shaking her head and motioning through the horde of their people for him to follow. They hunched down, knuckles dragging on the ground beside them, and began to weave between their tribe. When they reached the young boy’s room, his mother sat him on the bed, and shook her head once again.

“It is late,” she told him, pointing a gnarled, dirty finger toward his bed, “you must rest.”

“Mother, I do not need rest, I need to know,” he whined, flopping onto his bed of trash, hay and various articles of clothing they had compiled. She glared at him, shaking her head vigorously, which made her wild mane of hair puffy when she finished. He whined again, slurring together ‘pleases’ and ‘I-need-to-knows’.

“Fine!” She said, giving in to his demands, “But you have to promise to try and sleep.” He nodded, smiling victoriously as she tucked him beneath his torn, ratty blanket.

“It is not happy tale,” she said, sitting down gently beside him, and stroking his head. She may have been a goblin, but she still had a mother’s touch. He nodded, willing her to continue and she sighed, leaning against the wall.

“As you know, we went to gather food for us. We went into enemy territory, expecting bad, but receiving worse. Many of us went charging straight in, going for the taverns. Other, smaller groups, your father and myself included, went to the trash to get what they had thrown out. But I think they expected goblins. There were these people there. Strong, and armed. They not screaming and running like the others. The worst one was the knight. He was too shiny. He blind us. He also not give mercy. He took his sword and cut through us like dogs.

“His sword big, and sharp. His voice was deep, and he just kept yelling about, ‘filthy nasty goblins.’ We stayed to fight, pulling out our Dog Cutters and Horse Choppers. They not like that, but we goblins no like dying, so we fight.” She sighed, turning away, but the boy egged her on and she continued. “Your father was brave. Bravest goblin out there. He almost take out their healer. We would’ve won if that stupid knight hadn’t gotten in his way.”

Her gravely voice grew bitter and angry. No tears slipped from her eyes, nor would they ever. “Knights think they’re so high and mighty. Think they’re perfect. But they not. They kill when there no reason to kill.”

“Mother, keep going,” the boy said, eyes drooping, “I have to know.” He yawned, pulling farther beneath the blanket.

“Right. While your father fought the healer, I kept little folks off him. The townspeople are not strong, easy to hurt. Everything was so loud, screaming, crying, clanging of metal on metal. Couldn’t hear your father. But I did hear the Knight. I turned, tried to yell for him to get away. I was too late. There was so much blood, little one. It sprayed on my face, I tasted it.” She shuddered. “Tasted like copper.

“I dragged him away from the knight, who swung after he was down. He coughed and coughed, and the blood hit me again. I told him to just rest, but he said not to remember the bad. Not to remember the blood and the goblin screams. He said to remember how brave he was, how brave I was.” She looked down, only to realise she was talking to herself. Her child lay sleeping, head turned down into his bedding.

“I guess that was kind of a… gruesome bedtime story. Can’t believe you sleep to that,” she said, standing and exiting his room. “As long as he’s sleeping.”