“Next was the bow. It’s an alien weapon to a goblin. With short arms and poor manual dexterity, they could no more use a bow than grow taller. So other than a few humans here and there, the bowmen were scrapped as well. That left a great mass of goblin infantry with a few humans at the control. One would think that would spell disaster for the Mandreans, but their new soldiers have been quite loyal to the Empire. Such an army is well suited for keeping riotous subjects in check.”
“That is all fine,” Linvin noted, “but what would a Mandrean patrol be doing in the Territory?”
“When the treaty creating the Territory was signed,” Newminor began, “it provided that neither side held claim to the land and therefore, neither side could patrol the Territory. However, goblins in plainclothes have been patrolling out here for years to keep an eye on Sartan. Were they to be discovered by anyone from Sartan who actually cared, they could simply be written off as a wayward band of goblins. That would explain why you made no mention of uniforms earlier.”
Anvar had silently listened to the conversation. He spoke at last, “You mean to say we killed an entire Mandrean patrol?”
Newminor smiled sarcastically and answered, “If they are all dead I would have to say yes. But don’t worry, so long as no one comes across the bodies, they won’t be missed for months. Still, you might want to rid yourselves of their weapons and skins. It’s sort of a dead giveaway.”
The news was sobering to the last. Linvin again began to feel a bit concerned. Were the bodies hidden well enough to avoid detection? Would the Mandreans be after them now too? What other dangers were out here that they didn’t know about? Upon consideration, he was feeling guarded but still mostly confident in their actions.