My planet is infested with Goblins

Chapter 66: Humiliation in the East

The map of the eastern province had become something Lord Governor Marcellan Rusk could barely stand to look at.

It occupied most of the command table inside Eastwatch, covered with markers representing roads, towns, bridges, fortified settlements, and districts that had once answered directly to his office.

A month earlier, only the far eastern edge had been marked as lost. Brackenford had fallen, several patrols had disappeared, and scattered reports described goblin attacks moving through the countryside.

At the time, Marcellan had believed that a strong provincial response could contain the situation. Now Viridian markers covered nearly every important road outside the major fortified cities. The places that still flew Caldris banners looked less like controlled territory and more like isolated stones trapped inside an expanding sea.

Another official finished reading the latest district report. "No grain wagons have arrived from the Southmere farms in six days. The western mill road is under goblin patrol, and the local reeve has not sent another message since the nineteenth. Refugees arriving yesterday claim Viridian troops established a permanent post beside the river crossing."

Marcellan stared at the map. "And the garrison?"

"Withdrawn to Halwick before the road was completely closed."

"So another district has disappeared."

The official hesitated. "For practical purposes, my lord."

Marcellan struck the table with his palm hard enough to make several wooden markers jump. "I do not want another official telling me that half my province has disappeared for practical purposes. These are farms, villages, roads, mills, and people. They do not simply cease existing because goblins stand at the crossroads."

Nobody around the table immediately answered him. General Cedric Halvern stood opposite the governor with both hands resting on the edge of the map. Several provincial nobles, senior officers, quartermasters, and administrative officials filled the chamber behind him. They had been gathering almost daily as Eastwatch’s situation worsened, yet each meeting seemed to begin with fewer places on the map still considered safely under Caldris authority.

A gray-haired noble named Lord Harren Mavek leaned forward. His family held land north of Eastwatch, much of which now lay behind Viridian patrol lines. "They have not even defeated most of these towns. They walk around the walls, take the villages, and leave the defenders trapped inside. We are allowing them to claim victories without making them fight for them."

Halvern’s expression hardened. "You suggest we order every isolated garrison into the field?"

"I suggest that soldiers should behave like soldiers and fight."

"Alaric Veyne behaved like a soldier."

The room quieted immediately.

Halvern continued before Harren could respond. "Eight hundred men marched east. Professional infantry, cavalry, crossbowmen, engineers, and scouts. He met the goblins in open battle, held through the day, and was then attacked again at night by fresh troops. What returned to Eastwatch came back individually or in handfuls. If your solution is to repeat that because watching goblins occupy your estates offends you, then tell me how many men from your household you intend to place at the front of the next column."

Harren’s face reddened. "You think hiding behind these walls is better?"

"I think sending another eight hundred men into territory where the enemy can place several thousand around them is stupidity."

"We cannot simply surrender the countryside."

Marcellan cut between them. "The countryside is already being taken."

The admission seemed to anger him more than anyone else. He looked down at the map and ran his finger along one of the major roads leading from Eastwatch toward the east.

A month earlier, Caldris patrols moved freely along it. Taxes, grain, livestock, merchants, and military couriers traveled through villages that had existed under royal authority for generations.

Now goblin checkpoints controlled several intersections, while captured forts protected their supply wagons. Reports from refugees suggested that the invaders were not merely passing through. They were staying.

"They occupy our villages," Marcellan said. "They guard our bridges. They use our roads. They take grain from our storehouses and carry it in our wagons. Our own farmers are feeding the army invading us."

A quartermaster shifted uncomfortably. "Food deliveries into Eastwatch are down sharply. The reserves are still substantial, but the city population has also increased."

"How much?"

"We cannot give an exact count. Thousands of refugees have entered over the month. More arrived during the first two weeks than we could properly record."

"And prices?"

"Rising."

Marcellan looked toward him. "Then control them."

"We have begun restrictions on grain speculation and bulk purchases, but shortages create their own market."

Lord Harren muttered, "All while goblins eat from our fields."

Halvern looked toward the northern edge of the map rather than answer. Several fortified cities still carried Caldris markers, but the roads between them were largely green.

One of the most humiliating aspects of the Viridian campaign was how little open fighting had been required after Alaric’s destruction. The goblins possessed enough numbers to threaten several districts simultaneously.

When small garrisons remained in place, they risked isolation. When they withdrew, Viridian occupied the abandoned positions. The human commanders had repeatedly chosen the walls because the alternative looked too much like another disaster.

Another noble shook his head. "We called them raiders."

Marcellan gave him a bitter glance.

The noble continued. "The first reports said goblins. Small creatures attacking patrols and villages. We argued over whether Brackenford needed a company or merely more guards. Now they have surrounded cities."

A provincial officer near Halvern replied, "The mistake was assuming the word goblin told us what kind of monster we were facing."

Harren scoffed. "Do not begin admiring them."

"I am not admiring them. I am explaining why pretending they are fools has cost us men."

Marcellan turned toward Halvern. "How many troops are sitting inside Eastwatch while villages ten miles away answer to the enemy?"

"Not that many removing several hundred would noticeably weaken our defense."

"That is not what I asked."

Halvern met his stare. "More than you want to hear and fewer than you think we need."

"Then send five hundred. Reopen one road. Take back three villages. Prove that we are still capable of moving outside our gates."

Halvern shook his head. "And when goblin scouts see them?"

"They fight."

"And when two nearby goblin columns converge?"

"Then reinforce them."

"With what? Another five hundred? Then another? That is precisely how they want us to behave."

Marcellan’s voice rose. "So we do nothing?"

"We prepare for the battle that will be the most crucial."

"The safety of the whole province is crucial!"

"Yes, and the best soldiers left in this province are standing inside this city. I intend to keep them alive until their deaths accomplish something that can turn the tides of this war."

Several nobles protested at once, but Halvern did not yield. His temper had grown shorter throughout the month, especially whenever someone suggested that honor required another open-field expedition.

He had personally interviewed survivors of Alaric’s force. He had heard how Viridian formations rotated fresh soldiers into battle, how another force arrived at night, how the retreat became a rout, and how goblins pursued surviving concentrations afterward. Pride had already been tested against that enemy.

Pride had been lost.

A clerk entered with another bundle of reports and placed them near Halvern. The general opened the first, scanned several lines, then moved to the second. His expression changed.

Marcellan noticed. "What?"

Halvern spread one page across the map. "Scout report from yesterday afternoon. Goblin formations north of the city are moving."

"Toward us?"

"Possibly."

Another report showed similar movement to the south. A third described columns previously operating west of Eastwatch turning back toward the capital rather than continuing deeper into the province.

Harren leaned closer. "They are perhaps withdrawing?"

Halvern shook his head. "No."

Marcellan felt the answer before Halvern gave it.

"They are concentrating their forces."

The room lost much of its earlier anger.

Halvern moved several Viridian markers closer to Eastwatch. "For the past month they spread throughout the countryside. Now the roads are secured, the major settlements outside the walls are under their control, and their garrisons can hold what they took. The mobile troops are no longer needed everywhere."

Marcellan stared at the markers gathering around the city. "So they come here."

"Yes."

"How many?"

"We do not know. Thousands already remained in the area. If they release even half the troops used in the countryside operation, that number could rise quickly."

Lord Harren no longer looked eager for an offensive. "Can they storm the walls?"

Halvern answered carefully.

"Walls do not make us invincible. They make attacking expensive. Whether that is enough depends on how much they are willing to spend."

Another officer asked whether Viridian possessed siege engines, but Halvern could only say they had not yet seen enough to know what the goblins would bring against a major walled city.

Their ability to repair wagons, organize engineers, coordinate large formations, and sustain a month-long occupation suggested that assuming they lacked siege capability would be another dangerous guess.

Marcellan paced away from the table. "A month. In one month, they take nearly everything outside our cities, and now they march here using roads built by Caldris."

No one corrected him.

His frustration had been building since the first warnings. He had sent messages to neighboring provinces. He had sent warnings to the crown. He had ordered militia drills, grain inventories, wall inspections, evacuation plans, and troop concentrations.

Yet every practical decision felt like another acknowledgment that Eastwatch had been pushed backward. The provincial government still existed, but much of the province it governed did not answer its commands.

"What are people saying?" Marcellan asked.

The civil administrator hesitated. "The refugees blame everyone."

"Be specific."

"Some blame the provincial army for failing to protect them. Some blame your office. Some say the crown abandoned the east. Families of Alaric’s soldiers continue demanding confirmation of casualties we cannot provide. There have been arguments over food distribution, housing, and whether more refugees should be admitted."

"Are you suggesting closing the gates?"

"No, my lord. I am not in a position to suggest such ideas."

Marcellan looked toward the windows overlooking the city. The goblins had not fired a single projectile over Eastwatch’s walls, yet they were already affecting food, politics, housing, prices, and morale inside them.

Halvern began issuing instructions before the room could fall back into argument. Anyone still living immediately outside the defensive perimeter would be brought inside.

Grain rationing would be tightened before panic buying emptied markets. Ammunition would be distributed among wall sectors.

Militia companies would receive permanent defensive assignments rather than rotating loosely between districts. Engineers were to inspect gates, towers, cisterns, and internal barricade points again.

Fire crews would be organized in case the goblins used incendiaries. Nobody would wait until an attack began to decide where they were supposed to stand.

Marcellan listened until Halvern finished.

"Do it."

Halvern nodded.

"And Cedric?"

"Yes?"

"If they come to the walls, I do not want one officer still thinking these creatures are the same enemy we imagined at Brackenford."

"Neither do I."

Heavy footsteps sounded outside the command hall before another argument could begin. The doors opened, and a guardsman entered with an expression unlike the officials who had been bringing provincial reports all morning.

"My lord, a royal courier has arrived."

Marcellan turned sharply.

"From the capital?"

"Yes. He carries the royal seal."

The change in the chamber was immediate. For weeks they had sent warnings west without knowing when the crown would receive them or how quickly any response could return. Several nobles stepped closer to the table while Halvern straightened.

"Bring him in," Marcellan ordered.

The courier entered moments later beneath escort. Dust covered his riding cloak, and his face showed the exhaustion of a journey measured in weeks rather than days. He bowed before Marcellan and removed a sealed document from a protected leather case.

"My lord governor, I carry the king’s answer from the royal capital."

He extended the letter.

Marcellan accepted it with both hands. The heavy royal seal remained unbroken beneath his thumb. Around him, the same nobles who had spent the morning arguing over lost roads and abandoned villages fell silent.

Outside Eastwatch, goblin columns were beginning to converge on the provincial capital. Inside the command hall, after weeks of waiting while the province disappeared around them, the answer from the king had finally arrived.

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