Goblin Slayer, Vol. 8 Read online

  That makes her even more impressive, Priestess thought as she watched Cow Girl conversing with Goblin Slayer. The farm girl was always upbeat and smiling, despite how demanding her farm work must have been.

  At the moment, she was making a don’t worry about it gesture toward Goblin Slayer. He must have told her that he needed to leave right away.

  What if I were in her position…?

  “If…”

  The word, spoken softly and reluctantly, came from inside the carriage.

  Priestess peeked in the window to find Sword Maiden shifting uncomfortably. Her breasts, which invited comparison to some very large fruit, jiggled a little as she pressed herself to the window frame. Priestess found herself quite startled.

  “…Ahem, may I inquire who is out there?”

  Hmm? Priestess thought but quickly connected the dots.

  She was talking about him.

  “Er, it’s the young woman from the farm where Goblin Slayer lives.”

  “I see…” A breath, carrying a hint of sadness, slipped from between Sword Maiden’s moist, red lips.

  “Ma’am, is there a…?”

  “No…,” Sword Maiden said, shaking her head and tilting it down ever so slightly. “…It’s nothing.”

  “I… I see.” Priestess forced herself to look away from Sword Maiden, despite her desire to steal another glance at the woman.

  Priestess was well familiar with that feeling of infatuation. It was the same one she felt toward that beautiful witch.

  So then, what was this feeling she had toward Sword Maiden, the exalted archbishop?

  I don’t think it’s quite reverence.

  When she thought back on her time in the water town, recalling that bath and the ritual of the Resurrection miracle, she could still feel something deep inside her grow hot.

  Erk!

  She shook her head vigorously to keep her cheeks from flushing at the thought of that moment in bed.

  “I’m finished.”

  “Oh, of course!” Priestess looked up quickly as the striding footsteps approached. She made sure she had a good grip on her sounding staff, checked that the luggage was all in order, and wiped the sweat from her brow with a handkerchief, and then she was ready to go.

  “Mm, let us be off, then.” Lizard Priest gave a toss of the reins and the carriage started moving again.

  Dwarf Shaman rifled through his bag, producing an apple out of which he took a big bite while walking along.

  Priestess giggled and could be heard to pointedly mutter, “Really, now,” over the tinkling of her staff. “You’ll be too full for lunch.”

  “What, you mean this? The likes of this hardly reaches a dwarf’s stomach.”

  “Oh, give me some!” High Elf Archer said, reaching down from the driver’s bench; Dwarf Shaman tossed the apple to her with a “Here y’go.”

  She caught it in both hands and, grinning, polished it with her sleeve…

  “Ahhh…” Without warning, the elf gave a contented yawn, wiping at her eyes as she did so. “Man, I’d be just as happy if we didn’t run into any goblins on this trip.”

  But that seemed very unlikely.

  §

  Sword Maiden awoke to the rhythmic crackling of the fire’s dancing flames.

  She hefted herself up from the seat of the dim carriage. She felt for the sword and scales, being careful not to wake her attendant, who slept across from her, as she moved the blanket.

  Then she pulled her vestments on and slipped quietly out of the carriage.

  They were camped for the night. The sun had sunk, the moons were out, and the stars were shining.

  They were in a spot by the road where the grass had been cleared so travelers could rest. The question was, had the weary travelers come first, or the place for a campfire?

  Normally, one might have expected an inn at such a place, but with all the monsters about these days, that was too much to hope for.

  Sword Maiden headed for the center of the campsite with only a slight rustling of cloth. She’d heard there were no other carriages. That meant whoever was tending the fire had to be a member of her party.

  A figure loomed up dimly against the light of the flames, a man she recognized from her very dreams.

  “…Good evening?” she said as she approached, seating herself beside him on her plump behind. She left some space between them—because she couldn’t bear to get any closer to him.

  Goblin Slayer’s shadow moved, his helmeted head turning toward Sword Maiden. Her attendant complained that it looked grimy and cheap. And it had felt that way, when she had removed it once.

  “You are not asleep?”

  “Er…”

  His voice was so soft and cold, disinterested, almost mechanical. Sword Maiden put a hand to her mouth to keep her heart from jumping clear out of her bounteous chest.

  What to say to him? The words she had imagined speaking vanished in an instant. It was, she thought, like when one was working on a letter but then wrote the wrong thing, balled up the entire piece of paper, and threw it away.

  “…After everything you did, I was finally able to sleep well again. I wanted to thank you once more…”

  “But you’re awake right now.”

  She had finally managed to speak from the heart, but Goblin Slayer had struck her down with his remark.

  “That’s…” Sword Maiden puffed out her cheeks, pursing her red lips. “…You, sir, are the worst.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I certainly think so.”

  He didn’t even realize how she felt.

  Sword Maiden turned away from Goblin Slayer, but beneath her blindfold, she glanced in his direction. He was a dark presence that stared into the flames, never moving. To her, he looked like a sword waiting for the moment it would be drawn.

  I don’t suppose he’s at all interested in what kind of council they’re holding in the capital.

  They were surrounded by dozing adventurers in their sleeping bags and blankets.

  Sword Maiden let out a soft breath. In the end, she found herself with only one choice of conversation topic.

  “So we didn’t see any goblins today…”

  “They will come,” Goblin Slayer said, stirring the fire with a long stick. A piece of firewood splintered, sending up motes of flame.

  “We have a carriage surrounded by armed guards. It would be difficult to attack outright.”

  “…”

  “Tonight, or tomorrow.”

  Sword Maiden could say nothing more. Her womb felt as if it had been stabbed with an icicle, the cold spreading out and causing her to shiver.

  She clutched the sword and scales to her chest. Darkness pressed in from every direction.

  The wind danced through the leaves and grass with a hushing sound. Sword Maiden felt herself stiffening.

  She looked to the right. The sound of branches bobbing. She looked to the left. The breeze blowing across the plain. Hush, hush. The cries of birds. The cries of beasts.

  A sour smell of earth came drifting. Crackle, crackle. The fire jumping. The odor of burning wood.

  Hideous laughter echoed in her mind. Pointing and cackling. The fire drew near before her eyes.

  She shook her head and shook it again, no, no. She felt as if she were begging for she knew not what.

  A crimson tongue wiped her vision blank. A half-heard howl. A burning like hot tongs between her legs. Wailing.

  A cry like a death rattle, unending, pounding against her eardrums. The voice was her own. She had reached the extremity, her soul and her very dignity shattering—

  “Sleep.”

  The low voice gave the impression of steel. The word came from the black shadow looming in front of her.

  “Close your eyes, and when you open them, it will be morning.”

  “You make it sound…” Sword Maiden spoke in a strained voice, trying to control breathing that had grown harsh without her realizing it. “…so easy.”


  “I know it’s hard,” Goblin Slayer said with utmost seriousness. “When I was a child, I would lay in bed trying to find out how long I had to keep my eyes closed before it would be morning.”

  The simplest of words. And they evoked from Sword Maiden the slightest of smiles. Just as there had been a time when she was a pure, undefiled girl, the man before her had once been an innocent boy.

  Sword Maiden said nothing further. She doubted she could give voice to the things she really wanted to talk about anyway.

  About herself, about him, about that girl at the farm, and that courageous priestess.

  Various thoughts swirled in her mind, and every time she attempted to say something about them, her tongue would shake and no words would come out.

  But there was a man like a shadow beside her, and for her sake, he silently tended the fire.

  I wish morning would hurry and come.

  I wish the night would go on forever.

  She felt as if all she had forgotten for the past ten years was about to burst forth… Yes, so she felt.

  Sword Maiden drew her knees close and rested her elbows on them, propping her head on her hands. She let out a sigh that mingled sweetness with pity.

  “…Mrn, ugh… Ooh.”

  Sword Maiden had been about to speak when one of the lumps of blankets shifted and turned, and Priestess sat up. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, yawned, and murmured something indecipherable.

  Ahh. Sword Maiden exhaled in disappointment. So much for talking. And dawn was still so far away.

  Priestess got unsteadily to her feet; she had removed her mail and was wearing only her vestments. With all the uncertainty of an acolyte walking through the temple halls in the middle of the night, Priestess went over to her cargo. She had opened her bag before she murmured “What?” as if finally waking up. “Milady archbishop…? And…Goblin Slayer?”

  She blinked, inclining her head in perplexity. Her gaze wandered back and forth between the two of them where they sat next to each other.

  Goblin Slayer she expected; he was on guard. But Sword Maiden next to him—what was she doing there?

  “…Um, is something the matter?”

  “…” Goblin Slayer grunted quietly and turned that metal helmet toward Sword Maiden. “She woke up.”

  “Please,” Sword Maiden said. “You make me sound like a restless child.”

  This would be it for tonight, Sword Maiden decided. She puffed out her cheeks, indeed very much like a child.

  Then, before the startled Priestess could even make an expression of surprise, the archbishop had composed herself again.

  She was no longer a little girl. She wasn’t even a young woman of an age to be smitten with boys. She was under no obligation to admire anybody unconditionally.

  The only person who could be described in all those ways was in fact the puzzled girl before her. The fact caused a prickle in Sword Maiden’s heart, but she smiled wanly all the same.

  “I found I couldn’t quite sleep,” she said. “…And you? Is something wrong?”

  “Er, uh, no, ma’am,” Priestess said with an emphatic shake of her hand. “I was just a little thirsty. I thought of my water…”

  “I see.” Goblin Slayer grabbed his own canteen from his bag and tossed it to her casually.

  “Eep!” Priestess exclaimed, but she caught it, bowing her head politely and saying, “Thank you.”

  She unstoppered the canteen and drank audibly, consuming its contents with each gulp. Sword Maiden watched her closely—and then her hidden gaze suddenly turned toward empty space.

  “…” Goblin Slayer didn’t ask what was wrong. He quickly checked that he had his sword, made sure his armor was fastened.

  When Priestess saw that, her face stiffened. “I’ll go wake the others…!”

  “Don’t let them realize you know.”

  “Right!”

  Priestess took her sounding staff in hand and began to circle the camp as nonchalantly as she could. The rings on her staff shook with each step, jingling out with a sound like a bell. In response, the other three blankets started to move.

  Lizard Priest was the first to awaken, rising silently. He crawled out from under his pile of blankets, shook his stiff body, and quickly took up his dragon fang.

  “They come, then?”

  “…Could be. C’mon, wake up.”

  The response came from Dwarf Shaman. He gave High Elf Archer something of a kick to get her out of bed. With many an “ooh” and “ahh,” she got up, rubbing her eyes.

  “…It’s not even daybreak yet,” she said.

  “Hurry,” Priestess said. “I need to get my mail on…”

  “Look who’s a big girl,” High Elf Archer said, grabbing her bow. Then she picked up a spider crawling nearby and drew out some silk for a bowstring.

  When he saw each of his companions preparing for battle, Goblin Slayer got to his feet. “Go back to the carriage.”

  “But…” Sword Maiden looked up; his rough hand was already grasping her arm.

  “It’s dangerous.”

  He pulled her to her feet without giving her time to argue. Then he set off for the carriage, and Sword Maiden had no choice but to follow.

  With her skills, she could easily have participated in the battle with minimal danger, but…

  !!

  But the fingers digging into the soft flesh of her arm would not allow it.

  She understood perfectly well that this wasn’t her fight. And yet, part of her still wanted to argue.

  Sword Maiden was joyful as she let herself be pulled along, but when she was thrust into the carriage, she let out a small “oh” of disappointment.

  “Bar the door and wait for us.”

  The entryway closed with a clatter. Sword Maiden breathed out, sorrowful, then touched her arm, where there were still red marks from his fingers.

  “…We will. We’ll be waiting for you.”

  Her voice was so soft, it couldn’t possibly have been heard outside the carriage door. It was, instead, a prayer. Whether or not he heard her was of scant consequence.

  “Mrf… What’s happening?” Her sleepy-eyed attendant sat up, still covered in her blanket.

  Sword Maiden didn’t answer but bit her lip and pulled the sword and scales close to her.

  “…” Her sharpened senses could already detect the presences outside. As she pulled the symbol of her deity to her abundant chest, her body began to shake, her lips began to tremble.

  “…Goblins. They’re here.”

  Please, please don’t let any of them escape alive.

  Her strained voice offered up one set of words, her heart another.

  If there was another way for her to fight the goblins, she didn’t know it.

  §

  “GOOROBOROGB!!”

  The ambush began with an order from a goblin rider.

  The wolf burst out of the bushes and closed quickly, covering the last of the distance in a single great leap. Its jaws streamed filthy saliva, and Goblin Slayer met them with a backhanded pound of his shield.

  “GYAN?!” The wolf yelped and rolled on its side next to the fire; he crushed its throat underfoot then stabbed the neck of the rider, who had been thrown clear.

  The wolf, its spine broken, twitched once, while the goblin drowned choking on his own blood. Goblin Slayer confirmed this then moved on to the next enemy.

  A second wolf—there were perhaps four or five in total —was already jumping out of the bushes.

  “…Hrm.” Goblin Slayer gave a click of his tongue as he went to pull out his sword and discovered it was lodged in the goblin’s flesh. Without missing a beat, he let go of it, grabbed the corpse’s club instead, and swung it around.

  “GGBORORB?!”

  There was the sound of a backbone breaking, much like that of a cracking branch, and the wolf went tumbling to one side. Goblin Slayer attacked its rider as the monster tried to get to his feet.

  “GORGB?!”

/>   “This makes two.”

  The goblin took a sharp blow to the head; one eye and all his brains came flying out, and he fell over dead. Goblin Slayer flung the club at the next goblin rider then wrenched out the sword piercing the other corpse.

  “Don’t let them escape. Kill them all.”

  “…No matter how you cut it, that just doesn’t sound like something the heroes should be saying,” High Elf Archer grumbled from her position beside the carriage.

  The campsite, bathed in the glow of the fire, already appeared to be surrounded by goblins. In front of her were the wolf mount and the rider Goblin Slayer had knocked from it.

  “Heh-heh.” High Elf Archer pulled two arrows from her quiver; they left her bow almost the instant she looked at her target. The first bolt hit the wolf in the eye; the next, released in lightning succession, tore through the throat of the advancing goblin.

  “GOROR?!”

  “One for the road!” She kicked the death-rattling goblin with her long leg then nocked an arrow into her bow and let it loose.

  The arrow arced through the night at the strangest of angles, dropping somewhere behind the carriage.

  “GROBORB?!”

  A scream. A goblin wobbled out and fell over, clutching his chest, from which the arrow protruded. That made two for her.

  High Elf Archer gave a flick of her ears. The goblin had had a spear, but he was on foot. “I should have known that five of us couldn’t cover this whole area—not with them all around us… Dwarf, lend me a hand!”

  “Oh?”

  Dwarf Shaman was standing beside the horses, ax in hand. Almost before he had answered, High Elf Archer was already moving with the grace of a little bird dancing along a twig: first her foot was in the palm of his free hand, then she stepped on his shoulder, before finally jumping up.

  “I’m taking up a position on top of the carriage. You handle the ground!”

  “Blast it, Long-Ears! I’m not a stepping stool!”

  Even as he groused, he swung his ax with those strong dwarven arms.

  “GBORROB?!”

  This goblin found himself split like firewood from the chest down, his internal organs spilling out.