My planet is infested with Goblins

Captain Roland Mercer knew the town center would not hold forever, but he refused to let the men around him see that conclusion on his face.

The square had become the last defensible piece of Brackenford, hemmed in by the stone temple on one side, the village hall on another, and a line of overturned wagons, broken furniture, grain carts, and timber blocking the streets leading inward.

Smoke drifted between the buildings and rolled across the rooftops, carrying sparks from the eastern quarter. The village bell had finally stopped ringing because no one remained on the tower to pull the rope.

Around Mercer, the survivors of Second Company and Brackenford’s remaining guards checked battered shields, counted their final bolts, and tightened bandages that were already soaked through with blood. Behind them, civilians packed the temple and village hall so tightly that there was barely room for the wounded to lie down.

The goblins did not attack immediately. They gathered beyond the barricades instead, moving through streets that had belonged to Brackenford only an hour earlier.

Mercer could see their shapes through the smoke, some carrying compact bows and crossbows while others dragged shields, ladders, and bundles of timber into new positions.

Several had climbed onto rooftops overlooking the square. Their hesitation was not fear. They were studying the remaining defenses and deciding how best to dismantle them.

Lieutenant Harlen Doss came to Mercer on foot, favoring his left leg. His mounted scouts had abandoned their horses after the streets became too crowded to maneuver, and only a fraction of his original riders remained around him.

"We have nineteen bolts at the eastern barricade," Doss said. "After that, the crossbowmen will need to change weapons. We are running out of ammunition."

Mercer looked toward the southern approach.

"The temple windows?"

"Eleven bolts between three men."

"Tell them not to fire unless they can see a body."

Doss gave a tired smile.

"At this range, Captain, they’ll see have a wide view."

A goblin horn sounded somewhere beyond the square. The noise was sharp and unfamiliar, followed immediately by movement along the eastern street. Several goblins pushed a cart piled with burning straw and broken timber toward the barricade while ranged fighters spread behind them. Mercer understood the intention before anyone else shouted.

"Water on the barricade! Crossbows, take the ones pushing!"

The defenders fired. Two goblins collapsed behind the cart, but others replaced them. The burning mass struck the overturned wagon at the front of the barricade and scattered flames across the dry wood. Smoke poured into the defenders’ faces as villagers rushed forward with buckets. Then the goblins attacked through it.

Doss took command of the eastern line without waiting for Mercer. He planted himself beside the burning wagon and drove his sword into the first goblin that came over it. Second Company soldiers formed around him, shields braced in the narrow street while spears stabbed through gaps.

The first assault broke against them, but another followed before the defenders could recover. Goblins crawled beneath the wagons, climbed over burning timber, and fired through the smoke from only a few dozen paces away.

Mercer was halfway toward Doss when he saw a short spear enter the lieutenant’s abdomen. Doss staggered but did not fall. He trapped the weapon beneath one arm, pulled the goblin close, and killed it with his sword before another soldier dragged him backward.

"Temple!" Mercer shouted. "Get him to the healer!"

Doss shoved the soldier away. Blood was already spreading beneath his armor.

"No one carries me while that road is open."

"That was an order."

"So is holding this barricade."

Another group of goblins rushed through the smoke. Doss turned before Mercer could stop him and rejoined the line. The defenders held for another minute, perhaps two, before the burning wagon collapsed inward and goblins poured through the gap.

Mercer saw Doss strike one, then another, before several bodies closed around him. A surviving scout tried to reach him but was forced back by a wave of attackers.

Mercer grabbed the scout by the shoulder.

"Leave him. Fall back to the second line."

The words nearly caught in his throat, but there was no time to give Doss anything more than a final glance. By the time Mercer reached the next barricade, the lieutenant had disappeared beneath the fighting.

The loss of the eastern position shrank their defensive perimeter again, forcing Mercer to pull the surviving defenders closer to the village hall and use the narrow mouth of the street as the next line.

Goblins moved into the abandoned houses almost immediately. Bolts began coming from upper windows, forcing the Caldris soldiers to keep shields raised even when no enemy stood directly ahead. The square was becoming a trap from above as well as from the streets.

A scream came from beside the village hall. Mercer turned and saw civilians running toward the doorway while five goblins emerged from a side alley that the defenders had believed blocked. Gareth Pell stood nearest to them. He had spent most of the battle carrying water, dragging wounded men, and helping families into shelter, but now he snatched a spear from a dead guard and stepped between the goblins and the fleeing civilians.

"Inside!" Gareth shouted. "Get them inside!"

He thrust the spear clumsily but with enough force to catch the first goblin in the chest. The second struck the shaft aside, and Gareth retreated toward the doorway while two village guards joined him. Together they held long enough for a mother and two children to disappear into the hall.

Tomas reached the street just as a goblin bolt struck Gareth high in the chest.

"Gareth!"

Tomas caught him before he hit the ground and tried to drag him behind the door. Gareth grabbed his sleeve, his face already turning pale.

"Leave me."

"Shut up. I can move you."

"Then you both die."

The goblins were coming again. Tomas looked toward Mercer, and Mercer hated himself for the decision he had to make.

"Inside, Tomas. Now."

Tomas hesitated, then squeezed Gareth’s shoulder once and retreated through the doorway with the guards. Gareth remained against the wall with the spear across his knees. When the next group of goblins reached him, he managed to rise one final time. Mercer did not see the exact moment he died because smoke rolled across the street, but when it cleared, the doorway was empty except for bodies.

The southern barricade collapsed shortly afterward. Captain Edric Vane led what remained of the village guard toward it before Mercer could assign anyone else. The men following him were exhausted farmers, part-time guards, and wounded survivors who had been fighting since before Second Company arrived.

Mercer caught Edric near the well.

"Is that all your remaining men?"

"Yes"

Edric looked toward the southern street, where goblins were already climbing over the barricade.

"If they take that lane, they reach the back of the temple."

"Then hold long enough for me to evacuate the civilians."

Edric gave him a grim smile.

"That sounds an order to die slowly."

"It is an order soldier."

Edric did not answer. He simply turned and led his guards south. Mercer used the time they bought to move civilians out of the increasingly exposed village hall and pack them into the temple.

Wounded soldiers who could still stand were handed weapons, while those who could not were carried deeper inside. Tables were dragged across the temple doors, leaving only a narrow opening through which defenders could retreat.

The sounds from the southern street became steadily worse. Mercer heard Edric shouting commands over the clash of weapons, but those commands became fewer until Mercer finally took eight soldiers and pushed toward him.

They found the remaining village guards retreating one step at a time. Edric stood at the center with blood covering the side of his face and a broken shield hanging from one arm. Only three of his original twelve men remained beside him.

"Back!" Mercer shouted. "We have the temple secured."

Edric looked over his shoulder as a fresh group of goblins entered the street.

"Get your men back first."

"We move together."

"There is no together if they reach that turn before you clear the square."

Mercer understood what he meant. The southern road opened directly onto the temple’s flank. Someone had to hold it while the others withdrew.

Edric pushed one of his wounded guards toward Mercer.

"Take them."

"Edric."

"This is my village."

There was no pride in the statement, only exhaustion. Mercer wanted to argue, but the goblins were already advancing. He pulled the wounded guard backward and ordered his soldiers to retreat.

Edric remained with the last two village guards behind a broken cart. When Mercer looked back from the square, he saw Edric still fighting, using his sword with both hands after losing the shield. Then goblins filled the street between them, and Captain Edric Vane vanished into the same village he had spent years protecting.

By then, the defenders no longer controlled the entire square. Goblins had taken the village hall and were firing from its windows.

The well sat exposed between the opposing lines, unreachable without crossing open ground. Mercer withdrew everyone toward the temple steps and formed the final barricade from benches, carts, and broken doors.

Tomas remained beside him while the remaining soldiers tried to establish something resembling a final line.

"You think Eastwatch sends another company?" Tomas asked.

Mercer looked toward the smoke beyond the square.

"If they know what happened here."

"Our silence should tell what happened her."

Tomas nodded.

The next assault struck the temple approach before they could speak again. Goblins came from the village hall and two side streets simultaneously. Mercer fought near the center, where the barricade was lowest.

A goblin slipped through beneath a broken cart and lunged toward his side, but Tomas saw it first and struck the creature away from him. Another goblin immediately drove a blade beneath Tomas’s ribs.

Mercer killed the attacker and caught Tomas as he folded. Tomas pressed one hand against the wound and looked down at the blood spreading through his clothes.

"That feels bad."

"Save your strength."

Tomas gave a weak laugh.

Tomas breathed out slowly. His hand slipped away from the wound, and his eyes stopped following the movement around him. Mercer lowered him beside the temple steps and returned to the barricade because there was nowhere else to go and no one else available to take his place.

The rest of Second Company came apart gradually. There was no single moment when the formation ceased to exist. Squad leaders died, spears broke, shields were abandoned, and soldiers who had marched out of Eastwatch in disciplined ranks found themselves fighting in pairs and trios around the temple entrance.

Villagers joined them with axes, kitchen knives, hunting bows, and captured goblin weapons.

The goblins suffered for every pace they gained, but every loss could be replaced by another attacker while the humans had no one left to replace the fallen.

Eventually another horn sounded, and the goblins pulled back just beyond the final barricade. Mercer stood on the temple steps, breathing hard, his sword wet in his hand.

For the first time in what felt like hours, no one was immediately trying to kill him. The temporary silence allowed him to see what remained around him rather than merely what was trying to reach him.

Doss was gone. Gareth was dead. Edric had vanished beneath the southern assault, and Tomas lay motionless near the temple steps.

Most of Second Company had died somewhere between the road from Eastwatch and the burning streets of Brackenford.

Only a few soldiers still stood around Mercer, accompanied by several wounded guards and a handful of civilians clutching whatever weapons they had managed to find.

Behind them, the temple sheltered the injured and the children who had survived this far.

Mercer looked from one exhausted face to another and began counting the people still capable of standing without even intending to.

Earlier that day he had commanded more than a hundred professional soldiers, supported by mounted scouts and the surviving defenders of Brackenford. Now there were so few people left around him that, for the first time since the battle began, he reached the end of the count without losing track.

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