The Knight and the Goblin: Chapter 1

 The Knight and the Goblin By Yu May

Chapter I: Gobbledygook

In Merry Olde England, an errant knight settled down to rest by the softly glowing embers of a dying campfire fire. Nearby, his midnight-black Arabian steed munched oats contentedly from a bag. The knight’s doublet bore a crest of a hollow red cross and seashell, which marked him as a member of the charitable Order of St. Thomas of Acron. During the height of the Third Great Crusade, the order had been founded by Willaim of St. Paul’s to help pay for the burials of dead soldiers, or to arrange for ransom to return captive crusaders home. The knight pulled off his helm and curled up to sleep under a tree, with the restful face of a man who believed implicitly that his God had set a host of guardian angels to watch over the faithful.

But Gwerumpa knew nothing of knights and their orders. Nor did she know the names of any gods in particular, let alone honor them, for Gwerumpa was a goblin. 

If a North American raccoon had found itself lost far from home in the British isles, it might easily have mistaken the she-goblin for a female of its own kind, at least by her smell. The nails on her fingers and toes certainly resembled claws more than the squarish nails of mankind, and she crept lightly on all fours, never so much as rustling a leaf, nor snapping a twig.

Slinking from the undergrowth at the edge of the Black Forest, Gwerumpa flashed a wicked smile, her small fangs as sharp and white as a chain pickerel’s teeth. Her clothes were fashioned from the tanned pelts and furs of a silver fox, with the fox’s tail for a belt. 

Cautiously, Gwerumpa emerged from the umbra of the forest and sniffed the sleeping man’s boot, wondering if it might make good eating. 

Her smooth flesh was the color of pale ivy leaves, which acted as natural camouflage, while her tangled mop of blue-black hair obscured the glint in her shining, golden eyes, until she brushed her bangs aside to leer at the sleeping man. But despite the greed and menace in those eyes, there was something unmistakably human, almost child-like, about the goblin’s face and manner.

She took a nip of the shoe leather, then stuck out her tongue and hissed. The strange big man’s hide was far too tough to bite through. Then she spotted the remains of roasted chestnuts by the fire, and greedily stuffed them into her mouth. Stupid big man. He’d forgotten to bury them! But something about the nuts tasted strange and smokey, not like good, fresh chestnuts, with tasty worm-grubs inside them.

Then, a glint caught her eye, and she saw that the man had a shiny thing on his belt, as smooth and pale and beautiful as the full moon. Swallowing a mouthful of chestnut, Gwerumpa slunk to examine the big man's belt buckle, and stood on her hind-feet, reaching her full height of three feet. “Shiny-shinies?” 

As she reached out to touch it, the man snorted, and rolled onto his side. Gwerumpa jumped back like a cat, and ducked into the forest. She was safe and hidden, but as she turned to flee her memory of the shiny tantalized her. 

The shiny had two lines on it, exactly like what goblins used to mark their territory and warn away other goblins. She knew the buckle was not hers. But such a strange, pretty thing should be hers. As she turned back, she remembered something her Gerter had told her, when she was a nestling. “Gurt shiny…bring gurt luck?”

Circling around the sleeping man, Gwerumpa spotted the silver buckle, and approached on tiptoe. As the man snored, his two golden mustaches fluttered breezily. Holding her breath, Gwerumpa pulled experimentally at the buckle, and noticed a strip of leather like a long tail, knotted at the front. Carefully, Gwerumpa undid the knot, and started to slide the buckle free.

Then, the man’s eyes fluttered open. “Good evening. Who and what are you, little one?” he said, cheerfully.

With a snarl, Gwerumpa pounced at the man’s face, planning to scratch his eyes out quick and clean, then dart back into the forest. But the man snatched her by the ankle, and held her up and away from him. “Zounds! A real, live gobelin! Right out of the old wives’ tales. But what are you skulking about for? You cute little–”

Gwerumpa snapped at the man’s left hand. She would have cleanly bitten off his index finger, but he pulled his hand back on reflex, so she only managed to sink her teeth deep into the back of his hand.

He roared. “–Little devil!”

But Gwerumpa shook her head, growling like a wild cat as she spat foam and blood. “Gsssshhk! Leggo! Leggo me footsie, big stupid shiny-man!”

“Let go? You let go of my hand, thou petty shrew!” 

Setting her jaw, Gwerumpa managed to mumble a mix of Gobbledygook and English, despite having her mouth full. “Nash! Gwerumpa bite offen’ you big, hairy hand, grossher-nob!”

But as Gwerumpa attempted to bite the big, stupid man’s big, stupid hand clean off, the big, stupid man flexed his big, stupid fingers to easily pinch her by her bottom jaw. As she realized she was caught fast, Gwerumpa squeaked, but nevertheless, she kept gnawing at the man’s hand. “Grrraawrrr!"”

The man hissed, and seated himself, laying the goblin on her stomach across his right thigh. “Last chance, knave. Thou art like unto a naughty child, in both thy minnish height and thine evil deeds. And the best cure for a wicked whelp…is a sound whipping!”

Gwerumpa felt the man flipping up the fox-tail that comprised her fur loin cloth, exposing her small, pert bottom, which but for a thin cord that held up the loin cloth was almost naked. She tried to twist to see what was happening, but the man’s hand held her jaw fast, and still she refused to let go. “Nooooffth! Yoo’th not *pff* Gwerumpa’th Gerter!”

The knight patted the upturned green bottom which lay before him, then raised his hand high. “Nay. I am not thy Gerter. But if a Gerter be anything akin to a father, then I shall do what thy Gerter shouldst rightly have done long ago!”

Gwerumpa writhed atop his lap, and thrust her hands behind her back to shield her hindquarters. “Nooooooez’th!”

But Gwerumpa’s failed to cover her lower bottom, and the good knight’s aim was true as he landed the first spank. Gwerumpa seethed, and flailed her legs. She cooed, then hissed. “Ooo…Bugger’th!”

“Stop biting my hand, and I’ll let you live, thieving goblin.”

Gwerumpa’s eyes blazed as she tasted a fresh trickle of the man’s blood, and released her grip on her backside to throw up two v-sings, a hand gesture which meant something much ruder in the Middle Ages than it does today. “Fuuucth’yooo!”

The knight answered with another firm clap, which easily covered Gerumpa’s entire buttocks. She gagged, and clasped both of her buttocks tight. Teasingly, the knight pinched her lower butt-cheek. “Hands down, if thou art not craven.”

Gwerumpa tried to shake her head, but her bite was so hard on the man’s hand, her whole body shook behind her instead, as if her hips were answering no on her behalf. “M’not a raven! Ah’m a gurt, stark, tuff gobb’in!”

“Well, if you’re such a mighty goblin, then you should prepare yourself for a mighty spanking! But I’ll let you go right now, if only you’ll let go my hand.”

“No! Don’ wanna’! Gib’ me shiny-shinies!”

The man sighed, and adjusted his seat, resting his back against the stolid tree trunk. “Then so be it! As thou hast sown, so shall thou reap.”

Gwerumpa’s pointed ears twitched at the mention of sowing. “Me no weak cloth stitcher! Gwerumpa is’th mighty huntress’th!”

But then her eyes popped open as she felt her hands being plied away from her bottom. The knight tucked them both between his legs, pinched them in place, then settled back down, lifting his right knee up to raise Gwerumpa’s bright green rump up higher. Gwerumpa gasped. “Gweh?”

Then, the knight slapped Gwerumpa’s left buttock almost playfully, angling the stroke across her lower buttock in a swiping motion. Gwerumpa grunted, and immediately the knight landed a similar swat across her right buttock. As Gwerumpa tried to gnash her teeth, she heard the knight’s calm, steady voice. “Ready to be a good goblin?”

Gwerumpa pumped her legs behind her, her feet bouncing against her own buttocks. “Nooooo!”

Ignoring the goblin’s kicking feet, the knight perfectly timed a firm clap across the center of her bottom, with a trembling force that sent a shockwave rippling through the goblin’s taught, toned gluteus maximus. Gwerumpa gagged, then spluttered. “Aaaagh! Owwww! What dat?! No like! Bad! You bad giant!” 

Slowly, but steadily, the knight delivered another four firm swats. "Release. My. Hand. Now.”

Gwerumpa tried to thrash, but with her arms pinned, she could only scratch weakly against his leg, while her legs steadily grew more heavy from the strain. Then, to her shame, Gwerumpa felt tears in her eyes. But that could not be! A mighty goblin huntress must never cry! Pursing her lips, Gwerumpa screamed every curse and profanity she knew in Gobbledygook and Middle English."Gnashgab! Booger! Stink-butt! Arse-licker! Roger Fuckbythenavel! May yer’ socks’th alway’th be wet!”

The knight began spanking her again, slowly at first, but steadily increasing the pace, without relenting. Gwerumpa closed her eyes tight, and wheezed. But as she felt two tears dripping down her cheeks, Gwerumpa’s battle cries melted into childish mewling. “Waaaugh! Aaaaaaagh! Gag-gah-geh!”

At the sound of the goblin’s sniveling sobs, the knight paused his chastisement. “Ready to be a good little goblin?”

As she slowly released her bite-hold, Gwerumpa hiccuped, then sniffled. "Guh-huh! Schnifff! Okay! Okay! Gwerumpa sorry! So sorry-sorry! No more biting! Me be good gobba for shiny-man giant!"

The knight patted her bottom twice, whistling at the sight of the strange, shining color of the goblin’s hinderparts. “Phew! I spanked your bottom soundly, sure enough. It’s blue as the sea! Is that unusual for a goblin?”

Gwerumpa grimaced as she felt the playful lovetaps, wondering if more spanking was coming. “...Only when Gwerumpa is very bad, nasty gobba. Then Gerther gibs Gwerumpa plenty smackings and whackings on bum-bum, til it shine bright blue.”

As a trick of evolution, the native goblins of the British isles, being swamp-dwellers of amphibian origin, have clusters of bluish veins near the surface of their clammy skin, allowing them to absorb oxygen through their skin while hibernating. This trait became more vestigial as goblins emerged on land and began to evolve on a parallel line with mankind, but the result is that when they are either burned or struck, goblin-flesh flushes to a dark, maroon color. Furthermore, if you ever have the chance to spank a goblin, you will notice their translucent green flesh heightens the illusion that their bare bottoms blush to a beautiful blue hue. 

The knight hummed as he lifted the goblin off his lap. As soon as Gwerumpa was set back on her feet, she clutched her bottom, and performed a wild war dance, hopping about in a tight circle. Ignoring this display, the knight pulled out a wine flask, and poured alcohol over the bleeding bite marks on his hand. “Verily? Who knew goblins were blue-blooded? ‘Sangre azul,’ as a Spanish knight might call it. Perhaps you hail from Spain, and wandered far from home? Gadzooks, just look at what you did to my hand. I’ll have to burn the flesh, to prevent infection.” 

Gwerumpa choked, still rubbing her bottom furiously. “You kill Gwerumpa now, for the hand-biting?

The knight crossed his legs, and stoked the fire. He drew a slender mercy knife, and let the blade hang over the flame until it shimmered, the air rippling from the heat. “Of course not. I’m showing you quarter. Now, get back to your home, and may you never bother decent folk ever again! Be sure to tell your Gerther that I said to spank you again for causing so much trouble. ”

Gwerumpa’s eyes watered with fresh tears, her lip quivering. “But…Gwerumpa’s nest got burned up. Gwerumpa gots no gots no home no more. Gwerumpa gots no Gerther.”

The knight’s mustaches bristled as he pressed the hot knife blade against each tooth mark in his hand. “Balderdash! There must be other goblins who dwell in this forest. Have you no tribe?”

Gwerumpa hung her head, her black hair covering her face like a veil. “Other tribe burn Gwerumpa’s nest. Gwerumpa no want leave, but Gerther beat Gwerumpa’s bum blue and say, ‘Run-hide!’ Now, Gwerumpa all alone.”

The knight stared searchingly at the shame-faced goblin, then stood to his full height, put on his helm, and gestured at her with the knife. “So be it. Then there is only one left thing to be done. You cannot be allowed to wander these woods alone, and bring others to grief with your mischief...”

Gwerumpa eyed the blade, hoping for a quick end. But then, the knight sheathed his mercy blade. “You will have to travel with me, to keep you out of trouble. At least until you can find a safe nest to call your own.”

Gwerumpa’s pointed ears perked up. “Big-dum giant be Gwerumpa’s new tibe-chief?”

“Aye. But my name is not, ‘Big, dumb giant.’ I am Sir Belemere of Acron.” 

Gwerumpa blinked. “Sssir-belly-mere o’ Acorn?”

“...Indeed. And as your tribe-chief, I say there will no more stealing. And no more biting.”

Gwerumpa nodded wildly, her black bangs flopping. “Yes-yes-yes! Gwerumpa be good gobba. No steal no shinies. And no bite no more…”

Gwerumpa twisted to glance at her own behind, pouting as she lifted up the fox-tail belt to examine the damage. “Will Gwerumpa still get lots’a smackings and whackings?”

“You mean spankings?”

Gwerumpa giggled. “Geh-heh! That funny word. Spankies! Gwerumpa like!”

“Oh? Does Gwerumpa like getting spankies?”

Gwerumpa froze, and shielded her bottom. “Nope! No like getting spankies. Only like funny-sound word.”

Sir Belemere held up a hand. “Then you needen’t worry. I only spanked you to force you to let go. I shan’t beat you again.”

Gwerumpa narrowed her eyes. “That no good! Gwerumpa sometimes forget to be good gobba.  Bad gobbas need smackings and whackings, to make us be good gobbas again.”

Sir Belemere knelt to look Gewrumpa in the eye. “Very well. Then you shall promise to be a good goblin girl, or at least to try your best to be good. And if you forget, you will get another spanking.”

Bouncing on her heels, Gwerumpa’s mouth split into a sly, sharp-toothed grin. “Gwerumpa make vow! Gwerumpa go with shiny-man, and shiny-man be new-chief, and give Gwerumpa spankings! But you gotta promise to give Gwerumpa good spankings! Just like Gerther give to Gwerumpa.”

Sir Belemere held out his hand. “Shake on it.”

Gwerumpa looked at the outstretched hand skeptically, then slowly held it, and licked the bite marks, her rough tongue scratchy as a cat’s.

Sir Belemere chuckled, and guided Gewrumpa’s dainty hand into his. “No, like this. Now we’ve formed an oath. You have joined my tribe. I am your chief, from now on.”

Gwerumpa shook Sir Belemere’s hand, then hugged it close to her cheek. “Thank you, shiny-chief. You be Gwerumpa’s new gerther!”

Behind the narrow visor of his helm, Sir Belemere narrowed his eyes. “Hold…What is a ‘Gerther’? A name? A title?”

Gwerumpa blinked. “No know what ‘title’ is. Gerther and Mauther were Gwerumpa’s Gerther and Mauther. And Gerther be Gwerumpa’s old-chief.”

Sir Belemere paused, then gently scooped Gwerumpa up, and held her close. “I see…Then yes, I will be both your chief, and your gerther, for as long as you have need of me.”

Looking nervously at the ground below, Gwerumpa wriggled, then clutched tight to his cloak, her voice a soft purr. “Thankee, Sur-Belly-mere…And thankee for giving Gwerumpa spankings. Gerther would say, good gobbo need give good smackings and whackings to his gobba…Gerther be happy Gwerumpa find new tribe.”

Sir Belemere lay down by the tree, patting Gwerumpa’s bottom gently. “Then your Gerther sounds like he was a good fellow, as goblins go. But it is well-past dusk. Let us rest for the night.”

Gwerumpa’s eyes fluttered, and her head sank against his chest. As she felt her sore bottom pressing flat against the big man’s hefty palm, Gwerumpa shivered with relief. “Yes…sleepy…g’nite, shiny-dad.”

As he felt the goblin’s breathing quiet to a rumbling purr, Sir Belemere wrapped his cloak around them, and closed his eyes. “Good night, thou wee vixen.

[The End?]