As they got closer the smoldering remains of the house came into view along with three patrolmen who were placing a shroud over an uncovered body. Jen frowned. More bodies on her watch. Each one pained her, as much because of the failure they represented as the loss of life. Jen hated failing, probably because she’d done so little of it. That’s what Damien would say if he could hear her thoughts.
She didn’t yet know what to make of her little brother. He’d changed in the three years he spent at Sorcery. His trick with the plate showed he’d learned to use his soul force. She smiled at that. He’d struggled so long to get his power to work. That he’d finally found a way forward pleased her.
The group stopped short of the patrolmen and dismounted. Jen caught Talon’s eye and nodded toward the farmhouse. The lanky warlord nodded and rushed over, soul-force-enhanced eyes scanning for tracks. Talon had a knack for hunting, having grown up the son of a woodsman at the edge of the Great Green. If anyone could figure out where the goblins went it was him. The patrolmen left their grisly task and walked over to the warlords.
“Report,” Jen said.
Two of the patrolmen looked at the third man, an older fellow with a salt-and-pepper beard and tired eyes. He cleared his throat. “We were riding our usual patrol an hour or so before midnight when we saw the glow from the fire. When we arrived the house was fully engulfed and we saw no goblins. This is the second farm attack I’ve seen so I figured it had to be the same bunch as before. I sent Mica to The Citadel and the rest of us searched for survivors.”
He nodded toward the bodies. “Didn’t find any.”
Jen patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here.”
“Get them bastards, ma’am. Don’t know how many more farmers I can tell to lock their doors at night and they’ll be fine before I throw up.”
Jen knew just how he felt. Every time they arrived too late to save a family then failed to track down the creatures responsible she felt sick and angry, mostly angry. “We’ll get them. They can’t hide forever. Head back to town and get some rest.”
“If it’s all the same, I think we’ll finish our patrol. Doubt I’ll get any sleep tonight anyway.”
Jen nodded. “Whatever you think best. Thanks again.”
Talon stood by the corner of the burning farmhouse. When she finished with the patrolmen he waved her over. When she arrived he pointed at the dirt. Short, wide prints covered the ground. She’d visited enough goblin victims to recognize their tracks. “Talk to me.”
He pointed northeast. “They came from that way, across the farmer’s fields, and smashed down the back door. They dragged two people out here and the third ran toward the outhouse. Looks like the goblins ran that one down about halfway across the yard. They didn't haul away any loot. They came, killed, burned, and left. I can’t see much point to it.”
“Since when do goblins need to make sense?” The others had gathered around and they chuckled at her comment. Talon had a point though. These goblins acted even stranger than usual for their insane kind. Not that it mattered to her why they did it, all she cared about was finding them and putting an end to it. “Which way?”
“Same way they arrived, back across the fields. They didn’t make any effort to hide their tracks. It’s like they don’t care if we follow them. It’s kind of insulting.”
They left their horses tied to an old elm a safe distance from the burning ruin. In the dark, moving across rough ground, they’d be better off on foot. Talon led the way, the others a few steps behind. They left the yard and entered a field with what Jen guessed was wheat; most of the farms around here grew wheat. She shook her head. What a stupid thing to think about.
Focusing on the situation at hand, she used her soul force to sharpen her hearing and smell, either one of which would be more likely than her sight to warn her of an approaching enemy in the dark.
Talon led them on, never hesitating, along the goblin trail. From her position behind him she saw the path the goblins had left as clear as the wagon ruts that led to the farmhouse. Talon was right, they didn’t seem to care if anyone followed them.
If she was following an enemy that wasn’t obviously insane she’d fear an ambush. In this case she’d welcome it, at least they could come to blows with the goblins instead of chasing them all over the countryside.
They arrived at the edge of a forest. It was of fair size and consisted mainly of evergreens. No one had bothered to name it since, despite its size, it was tiny compared to the Great Green.
Talon paused a moment at the edge of the forest and crouched down for a closer look at the tracks. A couple minutes later they were on their way again, angling more east than north. For an hour they marched through thick, young evergreens. Finally they stopped at a thicket of brambles and blackberry bushes. Some of the vines had inch-long thorns.
“What’s the problem?” Jen asked.
“The tracks lead in there.” He pointed to some broken vines where the goblins had pushed them aside. “Gonna be a bitch forcing our way through. You want to stay on their trail or circle around and try to cut it on the opposite side?”
“Keep on them.” There was no way she’d let the little bastards have a chance of sneaking past them now. “Our iron skin will
