Chương 14: The Second Raid

The first scream still rang in their ears when Elna crushed Ren against her chest, one arm around him and the other reaching for Tessa. Bren shoved the back bar into place with both hands. Mara pulled Tessa away from the road-facing shutter. Tovin stood half inside the doorway behind the mud-soaked guard, spear angled toward the lane, breath still ragged from running. The rain had stopped moments ago, leaving the road dark and slick beneath the shutters. Droplets slid from the eaves in slow, shining lines.

The road beyond the shutter had gone wet and dark. Somewhere west, the horn's broken second call fell apart in the air. Elna made it three steps toward the cellar before the village answered the horn. The first crash came from the west lane, beyond the house and out of sight. Men shouted over one another. A guard's whistle cut through the wet air. Boots struck mud in a hard rhythm that had shape instead of panic. Ren twisted in Elna's arms until he could see past her shoulder.

He caught only pieces through the narrow gap by the road-facing shutter: a spear point thrusting low, a green body folding into the mud, Tovin's shoulder as he drove someone back from the door, and Bren's axe hand tightening as the fight reached the house in sound before it reached the walls. The raid had come early. A few hours, maybe. Half a day at most. Ren's Memory worried at the difference while the room moved around him. Had the search tipped them off?

Had the guards found enough tracks to make the goblins strike before the village finished gathering itself? The answer changed nothing inside Elna's grip. Early by a few hours still meant goblins in the road.

"Cellar," Elna said. Bren shoved the back bar deeper into its brackets until wood dust fell.

"Go." Mara had one hand on Tessa's shoulder and the other on the shutter frame, keeping the girl back while she looked for a safe angle through the gap.

"The small ones are in the lane."

"Guards have them," Tovin said from the door. He sounded like he wanted that to be true. Outside, a goblin shrieked. A human voice shouted, "Hold the line!" Then another goblin shrieked, shorter this time, cut off by the wet punch of a spear. The village was awake and actively fighting back. That difference hit Ren harder than hope. The guard turned toward the door again.

"There are still people in the lane."

"They are already fighting," Tovin snapped.

"Get the door shut." A goblin hit the front shutter from outside. Wood cracked. Tessa screamed once, sharp and helpless, then clapped both hands over her mouth so hard the sound died against her palms. Her eyes went huge above her fingers. She had learned enough to fear the noise. Mara caught Tessa by the shoulder and pulled her back.

"Away from the window." Another horn answered from farther down the street. Closer voices rose with it: men shouting, women calling children indoors, boots splashing through mud, spear shafts striking shields or shutters or bone. In the first raid, confusion and surprise had eaten the opening minutes. People had realized too late. Doors had opened at the wrong time. Warnings had spread only after screams gave them shape. Now the lane was already moving.

A small goblin darted past the shutter gap and vanished under the swing of a guard's spear. It shrieked, folded, and went down in the mud. Another rushed from the ditch side and took a thrown stone to the head hard enough to tumble sideways. Someone outside shouted Tovin's name. Tovin leaned into the doorway and drove his spear forward through the gap before Bren slammed the door fully shut. A wet cry answered him. The goblins could die, the village could kill them. Ren's chest tightened around the thought.

The outcome was still dangerous. Terrible, yet better. Bren barred the door again, then grabbed the axe from the table.

"Elna, down." Ren wanted to slap. He wanted to point. He wanted to say window, hatch, bar, fire, shovel, root window, smoke, and not again. The words jammed behind his teeth while Elna's arm pinned his ribs and pressed his face into wool and heartbeat. He had a baby body. And this was an adult war. Knowledge without reach. Ren twisted anyway. Elna felt it.

"Ren." He shoved one hand free and pointed toward the cellar door.

"Ha-ch," he forced. The word came out thin and scraped, almost swallowed by the second impact against the shutter. Elna heard. Her eyes snapped to the cellar door.

"Down," she said again, already moving. The first time, the house had wasted heartbeats learning fear. This time fear had been waiting with its shoes on. Bren pulled the hatchet from the wall and thrust it toward Elna.

"Take this." Elna had Ren in one arm. She caught the hatchet in her free hand anyway. Mara changed position without needing an order. She moved Tessa between herself and Elna, using her own body to block the shutter. Tovin and the guard shifted toward the door and window, weapons lifted where Ren had needed them before the screaming started. Outside, the first clash tilted toward the village. Ren heard it through the wood. A spear punched into something soft. A goblin shrieked.

Another voice roared for the line to hold. The word line existed this time, which meant guards had already formed one somewhere beyond the house. Small goblins screamed in the lane. People screamed too, but fewer than Ren remembered. Then a deeper sound rolled through the street. Ren felt it in Elna's ribs before he understood it. The small goblin shrieks were thin, high, and frantic. This sound came lower, wider, and full of chest. Something heavy struck a shield outside with a crack that carried through the door.

The man behind it cried out and went down. Tovin swore. The guard's face changed. Bren looked toward the road-facing shutter. A larger shape crossed the gap. It stood nearly as tall as a grown man, hunched and thick through the shoulders, with arms too long and a jaw pushed forward around tusk-like lower teeth. Its skin was darker than the small goblins, mottled green and gray like wet rot under bark. A crude iron hook hung from one hand. The warning had named goblins.

But what he remembered as small was just the first charge. The larger goblin swung. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. The guard outside the shutter vanished from view. Blood struck the wet wood in a black-red spray. Tessa made a strangled sound behind Mara's hand.

"Cellar," Bren shouted. This time, Tessa went first. She did not argue, freeze, or look to Elna for permission. She scrambled down the ladder so fast her heel slipped twice, caught herself, and reached up. Elna lowered Ren after her. The transfer was faster than the first loop. Cleaner. Tessa's hands caught him beneath the arms, strong and shaking with terror. Ren's legs kicked once in useless reflex, then Tessa dragged him against her chest and backed down the last rungs. Above, the door bucked.

Tovin's horn blasted once inside the house, painfully loud. A rough horn answered from the street, then another, then the crash of bodies meeting near the front door. The village was still holding. Ren landed on packed earth with Tessa's hands still around him. The cellar swallowed them. Earth smell. Apples. Flour. Old shovel. Damp sacks. Root window bars. Smoke memory arrived before smoke did. Ren's mouth filled with the taste of the last death. Tessa set him down near the far wall and grabbed the shovel at once.

She had seen the root window on the map. She had heard the adults say cellar. She had watched Ren stare at shutters, latches, bars, and exits until the pattern had worn grooves into her own fear. She dragged the shovel toward the root window. The handle was longer than she was tall. It bumped a sack, struck the wall, and nearly knocked her sideways. Ren tried to say 'Hurry'. It came out as barely a breath and broken sound. Tessa already understood. Above them, Bren grunted. Metal struck wood. A goblin shrieked.

The front bar cracked but held. Held. Ren crawled toward the root window. His palms hit cold earth. His knees slid through spilled flour. His breath came too fast, then caught when something slammed above. He forced the room into layers. The cellar hatch was clear. The ladder was exposed. Tessa worked at the root window with a bad shovel angle and enough terror to keep trying. Apples sat in the bin. Flour sacks lined the wall. The old stool lay broken by the far shelf. Smoke had not entered yet.

Above, Bren held the door side. Elna stayed near the hatch. Mara shouted from the left. Tovin answered near the window. The guard called toward the lane. The door bar held. The window was weaker. Fire had not shown itself yet. The room dissolved into pieces because the whole terror was too large to survive. [Skill Level Increased: Observation Lv. 6 -> Lv. 7] Tessa jammed the shovel tip beneath the root-window bars and leaned with her whole weight. Dirt crumbled. A little.

Progress arrived in a miserable scrape of soil. Ren crawled beside her and pushed loose earth away with both hands. His fingers were too small. Dirt packed under his nails. His arms shook almost immediately. Body Conditioning kept the tremor from turning into collapse, but it did not create strength he did not have. Above, something smashed. Elna shouted Bren's name. The sound cut into Ren with the same blade as before. He looked toward the hatch. Green fingers curled over the edge.

A small goblin dropped down headfirst, too quick and narrow, one clawed hand reaching for the ladder. Ren's body froze. Tessa made a sound too small to be a scream. The apple bin sat beside Ren's knee. His hand moved before thought finished. He grabbed an apple. Too large for his grip. Slick skin. Awkward weight. His fingers almost lost it. Spoon. Cup. Ring. Ball. Rail. Wrong sound in the right place. He twisted his shoulder and threw. The apple struck the goblin's wrist.

The hit lacked force, but it changed the hand. The creature hissed and jerked its claws back, scraping wood. [Skill Level Increased: Throwing Lv. 3 -> Lv. 4] A baby had thrown fruit at a monster. And it distracted them just long enough for Tessa to swing the shovel. The flat of it struck the creature's face. The goblin reeled, one foot slipping on the ladder rung. A spear punched through the hatch gap and caught the goblin under the ribs. It vanished upward in a spray of dark blood.

For one breath, the cellar had air in it. A small disaster averted. The street outside changed again. Ren heard it through the house and the earth, saw it through whatever shapes managed to show through the now-useless hatch. The first larger goblin had turned the fight messy, but the guards had not broken. The line shifted, shouted, recovered, and pressed back. Small goblins died in the mud. One of the larger ones roared in pain. Someone yelled for more spears at the west bend. The village answered.

They were holding. Everything was going well. And then the second wave arrived. Ren knew because the sound of the lane stopped sounding like a fight and became impact. More heavy feet hit the road. More low roars rolled between houses. Wood splintered somewhere close. A man screamed, and another voice shouted his name until the shout cut off. Tovin cursed above the hatch. The guard yelled, "Back! Back from the window!" Something massive struck the house. The wall shook. Dust fell from the cellar ceiling.

Tessa stared upward with both hands on the shovel. Ren's breath caught. The second wave had weight the first lacked. The small goblins had been raiders. The first larger variants had been breakers. This wave was the answer to resistance. Smoke came next. It seeped through the hatch boards, thin at first, then thicker, black-gray fingers curling down into the cellar. The first loop had taught Ren what smoke did to hope. It made every plan smaller. It turned lungs into enemies.

It made children quiet in the worst way. Tessa coughed once. Then again. Ren's own throat closed around a scream. Composure caught it and held. Screaming spent air. [Skill Level Increased: Composure Lv. 5 -> Lv. 6] His eyes burned. Tears spilled hot down his face. The baby body wanted to cry because smoke hurt, because fear hurt, because Elna was above and Bren was above and Tessa was here and the world kept trying to kill everyone in the same room with different timing.

Ren bit the sound down until only a wet gasp escaped. Tessa returned to the window.

"Help me," she said. Her voice shook, but the words came out. Ren crawled beside her. His hands were too small for the shovel, so he pushed dirt away when she loosened it. Scoop. Drag. Breathe. Cough. Scoop. Drag. Breathe. The root window shifted with a tiny scrape. Tessa sobbed once and kept digging. Above, Bren shouted something Ren could not make out. Elna yelled, "The cellar!"

"I know," Mara snapped.

"I know!" Alive. They were alive longer. Hope made the smoke hurt worse. Something heavy struck the floor above. The cellar ceiling spat dust. Flour sacks trembled. Dirt fell into Ren's hair. He knew what came next in the way a body knows falling before the ground arrives. The sound told him. Wood under too much heat. Too much weight. Too much fire. Analysis took the changed pieces and arranged them without mercy. The warning had put guards in the street.

The smaller goblins had met spears instead of sleeping houses. Tessa had struck the window goblin. Elna had taken the hatchet. Bren had barred the door. Mara had moved with the children. Tovin and the guard had held the house long enough for the cellar work to begin. Every change bought seconds. Seconds did not stop the house from falling apart once the larger goblins arrived in force. [Skill Level Increased: Analysis Lv. 3 -> Lv. 4] The direct warning had moved them sooner. Sooner had saved lives in the lane.

Sooner had not saved this room. Ren looked at Tessa. Her face was streaked with soot and chalk dust. One hand gripped the shovel. The other wrapped around Ren's wrist, as if she could drag him through stone by refusing to let go.

"Tes-sa," he managed. She looked back, and he hugged her. The ceiling beam above the cellar hatch cracked. Elna screamed their names from above. The beam broke. The world dropped flame, smoke, and timber into the cellar. Pain erased the plan.

Death took him faster this time, with Tessa's hand around his wrist and Elna screaming above. The dark returned. And with it his churning thoughts. A review of what just occured. The second raid replayed itself with all its changes intact. The warning had worked. Tessa had believed. Elna had acted. Bren had barred the door. Mara had watched the right things. Tovin had found tracks. The guard had confirmed them. The village had started with weapons in hand.

Small goblins had died in the road instead of spilling unchallenged through sleeping homes. Then the larger ones arrived. The first wave had made the line bleed, but it held. The second had broken the shape of the fight. The warning had made the adults move, but they had moved after the goblins were already close enough to choose the terms. Belief at the edge of the raid became organized panic instead of preparation. Organized panic lasted longer. It still burned. The dark tightened around the answer. Next loop… …

Ren hoped there was another. No. He had to hope. To believe. The alternative was losing. He would not lose. He would not let the goblins win. Ren would live, and so would his family. So next loop… he could not wait for proof. He could not make the house the first battlefield. He had to move the village before the raid had a name. Reset. Heat. Milk-sour cloth. Wooden beams. Blue charm whole. Elna's hand touched his forehead.

"Bren," she said.

"He's awake." Ren opened his eyes and barely held himself from screaming.