Their arrows spent, the men on the stable roof could only yell out warnings when a goblin broke through. Already the men were hard pressed to deal with the interlopers. Laoire lay squealing against the wall of the stable, his left leg gone at the knee. Several others lay motionless on the ground, brained or gutted or with no visible injury at all. Somehow, those were the worst. Padric’s innards felt full of putrid liquid and it was all he could do to keep the shit from running down his legs in stinking relief.

Defying his weakness, Padric leapt into the fray, charging four goblins that threatened Faabar’s flank. He threw his axe on the run, the weapon whirling end over end to catch a goblin in the hip. Padric closed the distance and kicked the wretch in the face, bowling him over. Before the other three could react, Padric was upon them, punching the long blade of his knife into an exposed neck. Hot blood squirted over his hand as he ripped the blade free. A man he did not know ran up beside him and engaged one of the remaining goblins. The last got his billhook up in time and Padric was forced to check his charge. The hideous face beneath the blood colored cap smiled at him, crooked teeth full of rot and mockery. The billhook made a swipe for his collarbone, but Padric stepped into the attack and dropped to a knee. The wooden haft of the weapon struck him, dull pain welling, but Padric ignored it, grabbing the shaft with his free hand. He yanked hard and pulled the goblin towards him, already stabbing forward with his knife. The blade caught the plating of the goblin’s jerkin and the grip fumbled out of Padric’s blood slick hand. Shrieking, the goblin threw himself forward, slamming his broad head into Padric’s cheekbone and they toppled backwards. The goblin was on top of him and they wrestled with the shaft of the bill hook, free hands punching and clutching. Padric buffeted the goblin across the mouth with his elbow. It laughed, blood thick with drool dripping onto Padric’s face. The goblin released his hold on the billhook, snapping his hands into Padric’s hair, yanking his head forward, then slammed it back down into the ground. Light burst into his vision, a swimming dizziness. He barely felt his head raised and slammed again. Pain-blind, Padric rolled, scrabbling and thrashing at the wiry mass trying to kill him.