The Trade
The two sides sheathed their weapons for the moment and listened to the goblin’s story.
“Kereuk! At first we stole their eggs and ate them while the snakes were away. Then the snakes began eating our young goblins. They are far too strong for us.”
“What kind of snake are we talking about? How large?”
“Kereuk! What kind? A snake is a snake. Size…”
The goblin spread its arms, decided that wasn’t enough, and drew a line across the dirt instead. The mark stretched roughly ten meters.
“This long. Too long for us, and the hide is too thick! You knight! Knights can pierce hides!”
A ten-meter serpent was within the realm of possibility. Against any other monster, Ion might have struggled alone.
But my strength has grown. Let’s see what I can do.
Ion nodded.
“Fine. If I slay the serpent, you return my horse.”
“Kereuk! Yes! And we will give you the shiny things too!”
With the bargain struck, Ion followed the goblin back to its village. They slipped through narrow gaps between trees that few humans would ever notice, until they reached a cluster of crude huts.
At their approach, dozens of goblins poured out of the shelters. Young ones, each about half the size of an adult, stared at Lotte with open curiosity.
“Grrrr…”
Lotte bared its teeth in clear discomfort. Even the young goblins were far from cute.
The goblin who had guided them ducked into the largest hut and emerged with an elderly goblin whose face was a web of deep wrinkles. The old one leaned on a staff; by goblin standards he was perhaps forty years old. In their harsh environment, that was enough to make him either an elder or a chieftain.
“Kereuk! I am Chief Karan.”
“I am Ion, knight of Bergen.”
“Kereuk! Human knight! You will slay the serpent for us?”
“I will. In exchange for the return of my horse. You also mentioned… shiny things. I’m curious what those might be.”
“Kereuk! Those! Those are the shiny ones!”
At Chief Karan’s gesture, another goblin staggered out of a hut carrying an armful of rusted weapons. Ion had half-expected jewels, but iron would serve just as well. Once the rust was cleaned away, the blades could be reforged or sold. Since he had come to rescue Yan anyway, extra weapons were no loss.
“Good. Where is this serpent?”
Karan pointed at the goblin who had first approached them.
“Kereuk! This is Ranvir, one of our warriors! Ranvir will guide you!”
Ranvir squared his shoulders and stood as tall as his hunched posture allowed. It still didn’t look particularly imposing.
Ion turned to Lotte.
“Stay here and guard Yan.”
“Woof!”
Lotte gave a resolute bark and planted itself firmly at Yan’s feet, eyes scanning the surroundings.
“All right. Let’s go.”
“Kereuk! Follow me!”
Ranvir set off with a determined stride.
It was late at night. Ranvir had suggested they travel to the serpent’s territory under cover of darkness and strike during the day when it was less active. The logic was sound, so Ion followed quietly.
“If the serpent’s nest is half a day away, your territories barely overlap. Why fight at all?”
Ranvir answered with a wet, coughing grunt—the natural cadence of the goblin tongue.
“Kereuk! We ate their eggs, so they hold a grudge! Then they ate our young! So we ate more eggs!”
“It spiraled until neither side could stop?”
“Kereuk! The serpent cannot speak! No trade possible!”
Still, a creature clever enough to remember a grudge and target only the young was no ordinary beast.
The serpent had made its nest in a damp, sunless corner of the ravine. Ion and Ranvir hid on the ridge above, where they could watch the entrance.
Night passed. Dawn crept in, gray and uncertain.
Shhhshhhshhh.
The sound of scales sliding over stone drew their eyes downward.
Not just any snake, then.
Exactly as Ranvir had described, a ten-meter serpent glided toward its nest. It was no ordinary constrictor; a thick, goat-like horn spiraled from its brow. The horn was far too large to be a mere weapon. Age rings circled the base, and local superstition claimed that grinding such horns into powder granted vitality. This one’s horn was as thick as a man’s forearm—proof the creature had lived for decades, perhaps a full century.
Even goblins could overwhelm a single serpent if they attacked in force. But one this old and cunning was another matter entirely.
They waited until the creature had settled back into slumber.
Only when he was certain the serpent slept deeply did Ion draw his blade in silence.
“Wait here.”
“Kereuk! Understood.”
He descended into the ravine. Stealth was difficult; dry twigs littered the ground and snapped underfoot. Still, the open space in front of the nest would favor a proper fight.
No cover for either of us. Fair enough.
Ion strode forward. A twig cracked beneath his boot.
Shhhk!
The horned serpent burst from its nest, yellow eyes fixing on the sword in his hand.
“Kyaak!”
It lunged, jaws gaping. Ion raised his blade and met the fangs head-on.
Clang!
The impact rang like steel on steel. The serpent recoiled, whipped around, and struck again from behind. Ion tracked the red dot on his mental map, blocked with his sword, and drove a gauntleted fist into its coils.
“Kyaa!”
The serpent flinched. Its massive body was fast on the ground. To stop its movement, Ion needed to use his fists like hammers. The gauntlets served perfectly.
The serpent circled rapidly, trying to wrap around him. Ion struck hard with both fist and pommel. Even while shuddering in pain, the creature tightened its coils. Ion braced with his back and legs, then drove the edge of his sword against its scales and pushed with all his strength.
The blade would not cut. The serpent’s hide was tougher than hardened leather, yet strangely supple. Unable to slice through, the crushing pressure increased.
The hide was thick, but Ion’s raw power still held it at bay. He released the sword, clenched both fists, and hammered the coils again and again. As the grip tightened, he switched to elbows and knees, driving them like pistons.
The serpent kept squeezing. Thick hide or not, it could not ignore accumulated trauma forever. Ion slammed his elbow down once more.
Crack!
A rib—or whatever passed for one in a serpent—snapped. The creature’s skeleton was flexible, with far more segments than a human’s, but repeated heavy blows had done their work.
The damage is piling up. Keep hitting and more will break!
Ion drove his elbow down again and again. Wet sounds of breaking bone and ruptured organs followed. The serpent suddenly convulsed, vomited fragments of its own innards, and fled back into the nest, loosening its grip.
Shhhshhhshhh!
Ion staggered for a moment as the crushing pressure vanished, then followed the creature inside. The nest, woven from branches, was dark as a cave.
“Kyaak!”
The horned serpent had retreated to a smaller cradle of soft leaves. It bared its fangs, blood dripping from its mouth, and coiled protectively around more than a dozen eggs.
“Kereuk! Now! Kill it now and the threat to us disappears!”
Ranvir had scrambled down from the ridge the moment the serpent fled.
“Hmm…”
Killing it would complete the deal, yet something felt wrong. Ion sheathed his sword.
“Kereuk? Human knight? What are you doing?”
“Wait a moment.”
Ion approached with empty hands, showing he held no weapon.
“Kyaak!”
The serpent hissed, but more blood spilled from its jaws. It seemed to understand that another fight would kill it.
“Easy. Let’s talk. You can’t speak, but something as old as you must be a spirit beast by now. You can understand me, can’t you?”
“Kyak!”
“Then let’s make a deal!”
Ranvir startled behind him.
“Kereuk! A deal? What are you saying!”
“If I kill this one, another will simply take its place. This ravine and these mountains are perfect for serpents. But if this is the oldest and strongest in the area, why not bargain with it? Have it stop the others from attacking goblins, and in return your people stop stealing their eggs.”
“Kereuk…”
Ranvir tilted his head, thinking.
Ion looked back at the serpent.
“You heard me. If you stop attacking goblins and keep the others in line, they will leave your eggs and young alone.”
The horned serpent flicked its tongue as if in understanding. The red dot on the map shifted.
“Kereuk! If the serpent truly stops attacking us, we will stop too! But serpents cannot speak! We cannot trade!”
“Even if it cannot speak, would a token convince you?”
“A token? If there is one, I will tell the chief! I am to be the next chief anyway!”
So that was why Ranvir had been sent as guide.
Ion addressed the serpent again.
“The goblins want proof of this promise. Can you give them a token?”
The horned serpent flicked its tongue rapidly, then closed its eyes and shuddered. Blood trickled from the base of the horn on its brow. With a soft snap, the massive horn broke free and fell to the ground. The serpent nudged it forward with its snout.
Ion picked up the horn and handed it to Ranvir.
“Kereuk! Token received! Trade completed! No longer enemies!”
“Kereuk! Ranvir has made a good trade! The chief will praise me!”
“Then let’s take the horn and head back.”
Ion and Ranvir left the nest. Behind them, the horned serpent lowered its head and continued guarding its eggs.
Chief Karan was overjoyed when Ranvir presented the horn. Slaying an enemy was good, but turning one into an ally was better. Removing a foe only reduced the number of enemies; a bargain increased the number of friends.
“Kereuk! Human knight Ion! You are a friend to our tribe!”
In his good mood, Karan invited Ion to stay in the village for several days. Ion politely declined. He collected Yan and Lotte, along with a mountain of rusted weapons—far more than he had expected—and descended the mountain.
The load was so heavy that even Yan’s back could not carry it all; Ion had to shoulder the rest. What should have been a week’s journey to the Graf Estate took ten days.
They reached the estate in the evening. Before even looking for an inn, Ion sought out the nearest smithy whose doors were about to close for the night.
“One gold for the lot.”
Blacksmith Dieter had been ready to shut his doors until the pile of weapons appeared. He counted them, sorted them by condition, and examined each one carefully before speaking again.
“Hmm…”
“The ones with heavy rust are hard to salvage. One gold is the best I can offer.”
“No, I’m not saying it’s too little. I’m surprised it’s so much. I expected about half that.”
Dieter relaxed once he realized Ion was not displeased.
“Ah, yes. Even rusted, it is still iron. At the very least I can pay its weight.”
“Understood. Instead of taking the coin, could you repair my armor with it?”
“One gold is more than enough for that.”
“Not a simple repair. If you use all your skill, how much would it cost?”
Dieter studied the armor with new interest.
“An heirloom, I take it?”
“Yes. It belonged to my late father.”
“Would you mind if the shape changes somewhat?”
“Change it as much as you like. You may melt it down entirely if you wish.”
Dieter’s eyes gleamed. This was a chance to work with fine materials.
“In that case, I have some dwarf-forged steel I bought recently. Using it would make the armor stronger than before while reducing the weight.”
“How much extra?”
“Another gold.”
“Here.”
Ion immediately took a gold coin from his pouch and handed it over.
“How long will it take?”
“At least two weeks.”
“I have no urgent business. A month would be fine.”
“It won’t take a month.”
“Good. Shall I leave it here?”
“Yes. Just set it on the workbench.”
Ion removed every piece of plate, leaving only his gambeson.
“Then I leave it in your hands.”
“Yes. I will pour my heart into it.”
Leaving the forge, Ion hurried to find an inn. Graf was not a large estate, so there were few choices. One sign caught his eye: Alina’s Inn.
“That one will do.”