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  "Don't underestimate him!" Patrina hissed. "And besides, there are more huts than there are ogres here."

  Tristam frowned as he studied where the bodies lay. He nodded after a moment. "I see how it could be done. The boy would have attacked them and kept moving. If he never gave them a chance at his back, he could do it. There's enough room between the bodies he would have been okay. Not sure how he could cut through them that quickly, though."

  "Beck's sword," Patrina muttered. She shook her head. "He took it from him after he killed him. Beck had boasted of it being a magical blade."

  "Depending on how magical it is could spell trouble for the lad," Kar offered.

  "What? Why?" Patrina spun to look at the wizard. "Kevard's Blade was a powerful magic, you said so yourself!"

  Kar nodded. "I did say that. I meant it, too. But it may have been a different sort of magic."

  Patrina's brows furrowed in confusion.

  "There's different types of magic and even among those schools of sorcery, there are flavors that reflect everything from the invoker to the source of ethereal energies."

  "The what?" Patrina asked.

  Kar smiled. "It's complicated."

  "It doesn't need to be," Karthor said, drawing a stern look from his father. "For wizards, sure, but for everyone else it can be put in common terms."

  Kar snorted. "Oh really? And what would those common terms be, wise and learned priest?"

  "What he's trying to tell you is that Beck was an evil man. His sword, therefore, was probably created by men with similar lack of morals. It would stand to reason that the magic has an evil taint to it."

  Kar scowled at his son's overly simple explanation. "There's more than that layman's concept. The more a magical weapon is used for a task, the more intent it will pick up. The will of the wielder and the intent of its use will add to the taint my son speaks of."

  "So Alto will bring a goodness to the sword," Patrina asserted.

  Karthor and Kar looked at each other. "Um, perhaps," Karthor said.

  Kar snorted. "Don't kid her, boy. The sword has years of spilling innocent blood. Over time, perhaps, but until that time and with the mood I saw Alto in, I fear more harm will be done than good."

  Karthor gestured around at the slaughtered ogres. "He butchered a village of ogres. True, ogres and savage and brutal people and this was a small group of them, but still, the ogres lay dead and there's no proof of Alto being wounded."

  "He's wearing dwarven mail!" Mordrim piped up. "Saw it myself on him! Take more than an ogre to cleave that steel!"

  "He came that way, probably when the ogres were sleeping." Tristam pointed to the north. "I'd wager we find another dead sentry that way. He came through and killed them and alerted the guard that was in that cave. He came running and Alto met him and then killed him."

  "So where is he now?" Patrina asked after she followed the steps of the battle Tristam described. "And why is he doing this? He must know he can't kill enough on his own to make a difference. Sooner or later they'll find him!"

  "Maybe he's counting on that?" Kar reasoned. "Maybe he wants them to find him and take him back so he can meet Sarya."

  "He's not that stupid!" Patrina snapped.

  "Maybe he's just trying to find their main force?" Garrick offered. "This wasn't it but he didn't dare leave them behind him?"

  "So instead he kills them and leaves a sign of his passage?" Namitus shook his head in disagreement.

  "Namitus's right, there's no sense to it."

  "There's a plan," Patrina muttered while studying the destroyed huts and fallen ogres. She narrowed her eyes and hurried over to a dead ogre. She kicked it until it broke free of the ground enough that she could confirm what she'd seen. "Here's one of his arrows," she said while pointing to it.

  "We could be hours or days away from him," Karthor said. "I'd say at least a day based on these guys being partially eaten before they froze solid."

  "Then we're wasting time," Patrina said. She walked over to Winter and swung up onto his back. "Come, let's go! We've much time to make up if we're going to stop him from doing something very stupid."

  Chapter 10

  Alto looked up as the chief of the goblin tribe fell dead at his feet. The other goblins, those not already dead or dying, turned and fled. Alto rushed after them, catching a few and adding them to the pile of corpses in the room. The rest managed to get past him and streak back through the tunnels of their small subterranean home.

  In moments, the cave was silent save for the crackling fire that made the room stink of smoke. Alto crouched low beneath the smoke and stared around. He was looking for movement or another tunnel that he had yet to explore.

  The light dimmed on his shield and went out, prompting him to stand and summon the light again. He moved through the tunnels back to the surface, pausing to shine his light down each one and make sure he hadn't missed anything. His eyes passed over the bloody bodies without pausing. They were evil creatures that the world was better off without. Even more so, for him they were a tool to an end.

  "Where are you, Thork?" Alto growled as he neared the entrance to the small group of caves. He'd killed countless goblins, at least five camps’ worth, and even destroyed two small villages of ogres. He'd yet to find a gathering of trolls but he knew it was only a matter of time. Then there were the mercenaries who served Sarya. They were still in the mountains somewhere.

  Each village or camp Alto discovered, he attacked and destroyed. The inhabitants fought at first, but now more and more of them were running when they saw him. His plan to strike fear into them was working, but not well enough. Thork hadn't arrived yet and Alto was getting angry. He'd been hunting in the mountains for weeks. Every day he made no progress on finding and killing Sarya was a day where her forces grew stronger and the dragon would be that much harder to reach.

  Alto emerged from the cave to stand in the bright afternoon sunlight. A cold breeze whipped through the mountain pass but he failed to notice it. Instead, he focused on the man who was standing next to two goblins. Both of the goblins were pointing at Alto and jabbering in their language.

  "What's this? Where's the rest of your army?" The man wore a dark cloak with a hood to protect his face.

  Alto tightened his grip on his sword and felt it throb in response. There was more blood to spill. "There's no army, just me," Alto said as he started down the mountainside to the wide part where the man stood with the goblins.

  "I've seen three villages of goblins slaughtered and heard of an ogre tribe. You didn't do that by yourself," the man accused.

  "Who are you?" Alto demanded.

  "I think not. Put that sword away and come with me. I work for people who'd be willing to pay for a man with your skills."

  "Where?" Alto came to a stop on the path with only a few strides separating them.

  The man frowned and pushed his cloak back so he could rest his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Let's try this again. Who are you and where are the others?"

  "I'm Alto."

  Alto couldn't see the man's eyes beneath his hood but he did hear the muttered curse over the wind. The cloaked man drew his sword. "Heard about you," he said while the goblins cried out and ran down the path away from them. "Heard you killed one of them knights and his lackeys."

  "I'm not done killing, either," Alto said as he stepped forward. He fought past the twinge in his leg from an ogre's club to his thigh.

  "Don't do something you'll regret. A lot of people are paying good money for you. Put that sword away and I'll split the bounty with you."

  Alto snarled, "I'll be dead. What good will it do me?"

  The man pulled his hood back with his free hand to reveal dark curly hair and a matching beard. He shrugged. "They didn't say they was going to kill you."

  "They killed everyone else," Alto growled as he leapt forward with his left leg. His right leg absorbed the landing but pain shot up it from where he'd been hurt. He smashed his sword into the cloaked m
an's, forcing him to back up a step.

  Alto's opponent recovered more quickly than he expected. He rolled his sword around Alto's and lunged forward, stabbing through the furs Alto wore but stopping when it hit his dwarven mail. The man grunted in surprise and then had his sword knocked aside by Alto's. He started to back away but Alto lunged forward again and slammed his glowing shield into his attacker's face.

  Alto cursed when the man fell back and slid off the edge of the path. He rolled down the hill to land on a rock, crying out in pain as he hit and then lay still. Alto stared at him, wondering if he'd killed him that easily. The man groaned and started to pick himself up, and then cried out when he tried to push off of one arm.

  Alto smiled and picked his way down the side of the hill, taking care not to slide on the snow-covered rocks. The wounded man managed to twist himself around and pull a knife from his boot. The foot on his other leg was twisted off to the side, a casualty of his fall.

  "Mercy!" the man cried out when Alto towered over him with sword and shield in hand. Each word sprayed blood from his split lips and broken nose. "I have money. It's yours if you spare me."

  Alto looked around the extreme landscape surrounding them. "You want mercy here? A mountain lion or a bear would make a meal out of you if you're not killed for sport by an ogre or pack of wolves."

  "That cave you came out of, it can provide shelter. I can rest there; just help me up there and take what you want," the man pleaded. He tossed his dagger away, proving that he meant no further threat.

  "These men who want me, who are they?"

  He shook his head, earning a scowl from Alto. The warrior lowered his sword and took a step closer to bring it next to the wounded man's leg.

  "I don't know who, exactly! I heard it came from the top. Some wizard that's supposed to be in charge. He's got those knights running around doing secret jobs, too, but rumor has it one of those jobs is getting their hands on you."

  "Supposed to be in charge? What's that mean?"

  "Well, we're told to do anything he or the knights want, but the giant that gives the orders for the men is Pavlon."

  "Giant?"

  He nodded. "Yes, there's a few of them but he's in charge. Stands twice as tall as a man, maybe more. Huge and strong, he's the one that's been commanding the army they've been assembling."

  "Men, ogres, trolls, and goblins?" Alto asked.

  The man nodded. "Wolves, too—they've got a lot of them. Bigger and meaner than any I ever seen."

  "How many?"

  "How many wolves? A hundred maybe?"

  "No!" Alto snapped at him. "All of them. How many are there?"

  "I don't know; I never seen them all. They've got us split up in camps in the mountains. Big camps, not like those little ones you wiped out. Those were just the ones that didn't come the first time they put out a call for bodies."

  Alto had to pull his sword back; it had been less than an inch from his prisoner's leg. "Make a guess."

  "A couple hundred in each of the camps I seen, and I seen a few of them. I'm a messenger. Probably at least a couple thousand, but maybe more."

  "What about the dragon?"

  The man gaped at Alto and then slowly nodded. "It's true then?" he asked.

  Alto scowled, prompting the wounded man to hold up his good hand. "I heard it as a rumor, that's all. They're paying good money; that makes most of us not ask questions. We're supposed to be getting ready to gather and head out in the summer. Don't know when, but they want us to push to gather as many bodies as we can so they can be ready when the time comes."

  Alto nodded. He turned to look around and then glanced up at the goblin's cave above him. "You're going to die out here," Alto pointed out.

  He shook his head. "Please! No, I can make it. I've got food and with the snow, there's plenty of water. Some shelter and I can rest up until I'm well enough to move."

  "Broken arm and ankle, you'll be weeks or months before you can move. Winter won't break for a few months, maybe more up here. Mercy would be killing you quickly."

  "No! I—" The man's eyes widened as his eyes shifted to stare behind Alto.

  Alto spun and saw a massive body standing behind him. He thrust out with his sword even as he realized the body blocking out the sun was Thork's. Thork howled from Alto's instinctive attack and then responded on reflex with his shield. Alto found himself weightless for a moment and then he crashed into the side of the hill. His back ached and his face and chest felt like it was on fire from the shield that had smashed into him.

  "Dat was stupid of yous!" Thork growled at him as he pulled Alto's blade out of his belly and tossed it on the ground.

  Alto coughed and spat out some blood from where he'd bitten his tongue. He groaned and tried to sit up but he found himself not certain which way was up. "Sorry," he managed to mutter.

  "What are you?"

  Thork turned to look at the man Alto had been questioning. "Who's dis?"

  "Just a messenger."

  "Friend of yous's?"

  "No."

  Thork shrugged and towered over the wounded man. He lowered his spear and looked to Alto while the messenger whimpered and begged for mercy. Alto nodded, signaling the troll to plunge his spear down and silence the messenger forever.

  Thork pulled his spear free before kneeling down to go through the man's possessions. He poked around in his pouches and tossed some trail rations he found into his mouth to chew on. He made a face and swallowed, and then yanked off a pouch full of coins and tossed it towards Alto.

  Alto picked himself up off the side of the mountain and winced at the stiffness and pain in his body. He twisted his neck and moved his arms and legs to try to release it, but everything felt disconnected. "Took you long enough," Alto said.

  Thork straightened. "What?"

  "I've been trying to find you for weeks!"

  "Den yous been lookin' in da wrong place!" the troll snapped back at him. Thork moved over to Alto's sword and picked it up. He pulled up his armor and pushed his round belly in so he could see where the blade had managed to slide between the sections of armor to pierce his flesh. "Dis is a nasty sword!"

  "Sorry about that," Alto repeated. "Are you okay?"

  Thork guffawed, his raucous laughter echoing off the mountains. "Thork is swamp troll! It takes more den a poke in da belly to bash Thork! See?"

  Alto frowned. The sword he'd taken from Beck had impressed him with just how sharp and vicious it was. Even being run through by a normal blade in the stomach promised a lingering death for most people. Alto squinted and stared as the troll wiped the blood away. His dark green skin looked untouched, aside from a pale spot that faded before Alto's eyes.

  "By the saints!"

  Thork grinned and then handed Alto back his sword. "What da fear is yous doing wif dat fing? Where'd da sword Thork gived you go? Hey! Dat's da sword dat other stupid had dat Thork fished out of da water!"

  Alto nodded. "Yes, Beck."

  "You bashed him den?"

  "He…yes, I bashed him."

  "Good, dere's one less stupid out dere den." The troll gave him a nod of approval. "So what yous need Thork for?"

  Alto opened and closed his mouth. He frowned. "It's a long story."

  "Okies." Thork fell silent as a large snowflake landed on his even larger nose. His eyes crossed as he stared at it, and then he swatted it off and staggered himself with the punch to his own face. "Stupid snow," he muttered. "Let's get out of da cold first!"

  Alto nodded and sheathed his blade. The troll turned and started walking down the path. Alto tried to follow but found that he was having a hard time keeping up. He kept running out of breath and his legs weren't moving as fast as he thought they should.

  "What da fear is wrong with yous?" Thork said after he turned and saw Alto struggling to keep up.

  Alto shook his head. "I'm not sure. Can't breathe or walk right."

  Thork scowled and hurried back over. He jammed his spear into the path, bringing a
brighter pulse of green light from the tip, and then stiff-armed Alto in the chest and knocked him flat on his back again.

  Alto gasped and struggled to breathe. The moment passed as soon as it had started, allowing him to climb back to his feet. He rolled his neck around and found that he felt fine again. Even the stiffness and pain in his leg from the ogre's club was gone. "Thanks, I think."

  "Don't fank me, fank Jarook. Him must fink yous is special."

  Alto glanced up at the sky and then around. Saint Jarook was considered a less than wholesome saint. To be in his good graces might not bode well. Then again, Thork was a shaman of Jarook and he'd helped Alto and his friends out several times now.

  "Let's go, Thork hates da cold!"

  Alto nodded and found he had no trouble keeping up with the lumbering troll. Thork led him down the path and then ducked into a crevice between boulders. The troll had to squeeze through, muttering as he did so. Once they were through, Thork turned and kicked one of the rocks. It rolled back into place, sealing the passage from anyone larger than a squirrel.

  Alto tapped his shield to invoke its light and turned to see Bonky sitting on the ground and sharpening his sword. The goblin's hair was white but his body was blue, an exact opposite of what the troll's short assistant had looked like last time. He used his hand to shield his eyes from Alto's light and cursed at the warrior in his own language.

  "Always a pleasure," Alto responded.

  "Bonky doesn't like da cold either. Come on, dis way," Thork said, stepping past Bonky and heading deeper into the cave.

  Thork led Alto through a system of tunnels that made the warrior feel as though he was back in the dwarven mines. Twice he heard sounds echoing from side passages that could have been miners working rock or people talking. The troll seemed unimpressed and continued. When they finally stopped, Alto had lost track of how many times he'd reactivated the light on his shield. The troll's green glowing spear wasn't enough to make him feel comfortable.

  Thork's latest home had many of the same amenities as his last one, complete with a fire pit with some green glowing embers in it. Unlike the last one, he'd found a far larger cavern, complete with a small waterfall dropping into a pool at one end. The partial skeletal remains of several fish littered the ground, as well as an eel. Alto wondered if it was the same type of eel that had attacked him the last time he'd been the troll's guest.