Victim of Fate Page 22

  "Royal guards," Mordrim spat. "This could be their king’s chambers."

  "The others are catching up to us," Karthor warned from the rear of group.

  "Take them," Tristam ordered.

  No sooner had he spoken than Garrick let loose a whoop and ran forward. Patrina followed a step behind him, but couldn’t keep up with his long-legged pace. The barbarian smashed aside the halberd from the gnome on his left, using it to tie up the one on the right. He struck the gnome across the face with his left fist, and then smashed the cross piece of his sword into the side of the head of the other gnome. He kicked out and brought his sword back, clubbing and slashing with it. Patrina arrived in time to thrust her sword in and finish off the wounded guard on the right.

  Garrick stood above them and grinned. He motioned for the others before turning and rushing into the now open passage. Patrina followed closer this time, not bothering to look back.

  By the time Tristam and the others caught up to them, they had killed three more armored gnomes and were advancing on the gnome king. He hissed and spat at them in a strange and earthy language. The barbarian and the lady ignored him, each advancing from opposite directions.

  The gnome king pulled a sword from beside his throne and moved to keep them both equidistant from him. He turned as they turned, and then he snarled again and dug into the rock at his feet with the sharp claws on his feet. Before he could launch himself, Mordrim’s hammer flashed through the air, swinging end over end. The air whistled with its passage until it stopped with the sound of a melon being dropped on a stone.

  The gnome king staggered and turned. He leaned to the side and fell over. Patrina lunged forward and jammed her sword into him, and then thrust twice more to make sure. She backed away, breathing hard, and turned to look at the others.

  "He’s dead," Kar pointed out. He chuckled and looked behind them. "Bless me, I’m too old for this sort of nonsense!"

  "We’ve no time; the others will be upon us!" Karthor said.

  "Can we seal that tunnel? A door? A rock? A bunch of dead gnomes, even?" Tristam asked as he turned to look at the cave they’d rushed through.

  "They’ll be a minute figuring things out with their king dead," Mordrim said.

  "They don’t know he’s dead!" Tristam pointed out.

  Mordrim jumped and hurried over to the dead gnome. He picked up his hammer and then glanced around and frowned. He saw Patrina watching him and grinned, and then grabbed her sword from her hand and turned back to the dead gnome king. A few hacking swipes later and he rushed down across the primitive throne room and then tossed the head of the fallen king into the passage.

  "That’ll be slowing them down some," he said, clapping his hands and then sneering at the gore covering them. He wiped them off on his clothes and hurried back across the cave towards them.

  Patrina picked up her sword and sheathed it, and then turned to study the chamber. In the back of the room, several chests and bags were piled together, as well as a great many weapons and suits of armor left on racks or lying on the ground.

  "The treasure of the dwarves!" Tristam whispered when he’d walked up beside her and let his eyes follow hers. "Might be this will turn out all right after all!"

  Patrina turned to glare at him. "Alto’s gone," she reminded him. "No treasure can make that better."

  Tristam nodded, and then offered a faint smile. "Perhaps not, my lady, but this will buy enough wine to help me celebrate his sacrifice until I don’t care anymore."

  Patrina punched him, staggering the surprised warrior and making him take a step back. He reached for his sword, only to remember it was gone. His dagger was back on his other hip, but the thought had passed for him to draw it.

  Tristam reached up and wiped away the blood from his split lip. "Don’t do that again," he growled at her.

  Garrick chuckled behind him.

  Mordrim cried out, distracting them from the growing tension. He waded into the dwarven treasures and started rifling through it. He’d pick something up and get excited about it and then saw something else and tossed it aside in favor of the new item. After a few minutes, he pulled out a hammer and wiped the dirt and dust of countless generations off it. It gleamed in the magical lights.

  Tristam made his way to the treasure and started to poke around at the edges of it. He found a sword and wiped it clean on the rags of the dead gnome king, and then stared at it almost reverently. He swung it around a few times, grinning, and then lowered it and made ready to put it in his empty scabbard. He found Mordrim staring at him.

  "I need a sword," Tristam said.

  Mordrim looked like he was chewing on his tongue for a moment before he nodded. "We’ve done my ancestors a fair service avenging them this day," he reasoned aloud. "You’ve all earned a bit of reward for it."

  Garrick glanced at the dwarven treasure and shrugged. He turned away when Mordrim called out to him, "Longfellow! You’ve got an axe at your side—try this instead."

  Garrick caught the hand axe the dwarf tossed at him. He sneered and was about to cast it aside when the weight and feel in his hand stopped him. He stared at it, turning it over slowly, and then tested the edge of the blade on his thumb. He grinned, happy with his discovery. His old hand axe dropped to the ground a moment later, replaced by the new weapon.

  "We should hurry," Karthor stressed. "They may be delayed but it won’t last forever."

  "Aye, but we’ll need to fight our way out," Mordrim said after he pulled on a doublet and started securing heavier armor about his body. "Lass, can you help me with these buckles?"

  Trina stared at him and started to turn away. She changed her mind with a scowl and hurried over, buckling the plate on. She helped him secure the rest of the armor, using lessons she’d learned in her father’s court. Mordrim grinned and slammed his newfound gauntlet into the shining breastplate. "No filthy gnome will be touching me!" he boasted.

  Kar held up a knurled mace from the pile of treasure and turned to his son. "Boy, don’t be a fool! Even I know this is a step up from that club you’ve got."

  Karthor glanced down at his mace. "This is no club. It’s been blessed in the waters of the shrine of Leander!"

  "Well then, take this back and get it blessed, too," Kar said. He tossed the mace towards Karthor, only to have the weapon fall several feet short and roll across the ground.

  Karthor sighed and picked it up. His expression changed as soon as he straightened. He swung it through the air and nodded. "Perhaps I could give it a try," he offered.

  Kar laughed and turned away, pocketing a few daggers as he moved through the gnomes’ primitive hoard.

  "Lass, that mail of yours is going to fall off and trip you up; there’s sure to be something here to wear," Mordrim said to Patrina.

  Trina glanced down and frowned. "This was Alto’s," she said.

  He nodded. "Aye, it was, but it’s not right for you. I’m a dwarf—I know armor."

  "But…" She hesitated and turned until she saw a sympathetic Namitus looking at her from nearby. "I can smell him on it," she breathed.

  "Keep the shirt then," Namitus recommended.

  Trina dropped her face to her chest and inhaled. She nodded, her cheeks rosy, and pulled Alto’s hauberk off. Mordrim handed her a replacement that she slipped on. It was still a little big for her but as she adjusted the mail it seemed to snug up on her. It fell barely past her hips, but the dwarf had some greaves for her to strap on as well that protected her lower legs.

  "What about you?" Mordrim asked Namitus.

  Namitus held up a long knife he’d found, complete with a sapphire set in the hilt. He traded it for the dagger at his hip and continued to search through the stolen items.

  "The way out’s back there." Mordrim pointed through the tunnel they’d fought through.

  "There are other tunnels back here," Kar said. The wizard gestured and the wisps of light flew through the air to streak into smaller caves scattered around the room. At three of the e
ntrances, the lights chased away gnomish shadows. "Might one of them lead us out?"

  "Don’t think we can take a few gnomes?" Mordrim asked. He bent down and picked up a shield and banged his hammer against it.

  "A few easily enough," Kar agreed. "But what you seem to be forgetting is that there were gnomes enough to rout your ancestors and they’ve had generations to grow and expand since."

  Mordrim scowled and turned to look at the main entrance to the throne room.

  "The wizard’s right," Tristam said.

  "The forges are back that way," Patrina whispered.

  "What’s that?" Tristam and Mordrim turned to face her.

  "The forges. Alto said we had to stop the forges."

  "Alto’s gone," Tristam reminded her. "And there’s no way we can fight gnomes, goblins, trolls, ogres, and men alike to do a damn thing to those forges!"

  "I know he’s gone!" she hissed at him. "But he stood for something."

  "He stood for getting your royal arse out of this mountain and back safe where you belong!"

  Patrina’s hand flew to her sword and she drew it. "I belong where I say I belong," she snarled, pointing the blade at Tristam.

  Garrick snickered from the side. She turned on him, her sword not wavering as it pointed at him. "You keep laughing and I’ll gut you for your insolence!"

  He held up his hands but the grin never left his face.

  "Rescued you twice now and you’re making me regret it both times," Tristam told her. "We’re to be heading out for a safe place. If you want to go charging back into the thick of it, you go right ahead."

  "Trina," Namitus warned.

  Patrina’s sword wavered, the tip shaking a little. Finally, she lowered it and let loose a cry of frustration that was nearly a sob. She turned and saw Mordrim standing next to her. He held out a long sword, hilt first.

  "Lady Patrina, it won’t replace your friend but take this as my gift to you for your kindness and valor." The blade he held had several small emeralds imbedded into the cross guard.

  Patrina shifted her sword into her left hand and then took the weapon from him in her right. She stared past the craftsmanship of the hilt and sighted in the blade. It bore no nicks or scratches and looked as if it had been freshly sharpened. Her eyes went to the hilt and she nodded. "It’s a fine blade."

  "No match for you, lady," Mordrim continued.

  Garrick coughed behind Patrina but she let his impropriety pass without comment.

  "Take the damn blade, princess, we’ve got to be out of here!" Tristam hissed.

  Patrina closed her eyes and nodded. She slid the new sword into her scabbard and then tossed the other one into the freshly disturbed piles of armaments. "Mordrim, do you think it might be possible to take one of these tunnels and find a way out?"

  "I only know the ones my ancestors built," he said. "It’s possible they might lead us out; these tunnels was made by gnomes or by nature."

  "Make your best guess and lead us then," Patrina said.

  "This is my company and my rules, princess," Tristam rebuked her. "I’m the one giving the orders!"

  Patrina turned on him and said in a voice forced in calmness, "If you’ve a better order to give, then do so. Otherwise I was hoping to save us time and allow us to escape. If we can’t stop the evil that is in this mountain, then the only thing important to our lives is escaping and bringing word of it to those who can do something."

  Tristam’s eyes narrowed. "Important to your life, perhaps. And wasn’t your father in here already?"

  "For all I know my father is dead," she spat at him. "Now be silent unless you’ve something useful to add!"

  Garrick laughed yet again at the open dissension between the two.

  As one, both Tristam and Patrina turned to the barbarian and all but shouted, "What?"

  He stared at Tristam and said, "For all your civilized manners, you’ve no idea how to keep a woman in her place."

  "Keep me in my place?" Patrina’s voice was barely more than a whisper with outrage.

  Garrick walked up to her and leered at her. When she refused to back down, he leaned in and, before she could react, he crushed her to him and kissed her hard on the lips. Patrina gasped and stiffened in his grasp, and then started punching and pushing at him until he let her go. She stared at him, mouth open and gasping.

  "That’s how you shut a woman up," Garrick said to Tristam.

  "You’re lucky you didn’t lose your lips and tongue," Tristam responded.

  Patrina stared at them both, unable or unwilling to say anything.

  "This way then, if you’re done fooling about," Mordrim reminded them. He gestured towards a tunnel that appeared empty of any gnomish surprises and started towards it. Patrina glared at Garrick one final time and then turned and followed the dwarf. The others hurried along, glancing at one another in amazement.

  Chapter 25

  "Okies, yous know what yous gots to do. Thork is gonna go and watch da show!"

  Alto looked at the small dwarven chest he held. "I drop this in a river of molten rock and run?"

  Thork grinned and nodded.

  "And how’s that going to do anything other than make this melt, too?"

  "Da potion inside, stupid!" Thork said. He shook his head and sighed. "Da mojo in dat will make a big boom when da lava hits it. If dat don’t shake dis place up, da pressure is gonna build an build till it pops like a baby frogger dats been squeezed too much!"

  Alto grimaced at the visualization of a frog that’d been squeezed to the point of bursting. "Okay, um, where’s this molten rock at?"

  "Lava, you idjit, it’s called lava!" Thork looked over to Bonky and rolled his eyes. "Just keep going down till yous find it. Try dat tunnel over der."

  Alto followed Thork’s pointed finger to a cave he hadn’t even looked into yet. "And how do I get out of here?"

  "Dats not so easy," the shaman admitted. "Keep going up. Yous made it dis far, right? Yous can make it da rest of da way!"

  Alto nodded. He could do it. He had no idea how but he’d have to figure that out on the way. "Uh, Thork? I appreciate all this help a lot, I really do. But I can’t see in the dark. That eel almost had me and there are probably a lot worse things down here than that."

  "Yep, der is. Just bonk yous shield."

  "Bonk my shield?" Alto turned the shield he held and stared at the image of the mountain with the crown over it.

  Thork picked up his own shield and spear and struck the green glowing tip of his spear against his shield. "Like dat!"

  "With my sword?"

  Thork shook his head. "No stupid, with yous hand. If yous sword did da trick den every stupid dat hit it would light it up."

  "Light it up?" Alto echoed for his own understanding. He slipped his hand and arm back into the shield’s straps and then tapped his right hand to it. A golden burst of light erupted from the front of it, sending light in front of him in an arc that rivaled a torch. He gasped and turned back to the troll, only to see the large green creature gathering up his supplies and shoving bag after bag into a glowing rift in the wall of the cave.

  Thork turned back to face him and grinned. "Dis is da Trolwerkz warehouse!"

  Alto gazed in wonder. The glowing rift rivaled the light his shield put out but he thought he could see shapes in the magical doorway. "You’ve been here before?" Alto asked the shaman.

  "Nope, dis da first. Da last too, if yous gets lucky. Dis goes with Thork, wherever Thork is at him can open it up," the troll said. Thork turned to look at Alto and grinned at the man’s impersonation of a fish gasping for air. "Dis powerful mojo."

  Alto nodded and clamped his mouth shut. Kar’s spells amazed him with their power and ability, such as when he’d devastated the gate to Highpeak to allow the Kingdom’s soldiers access. He had a feeling that Thork was on an entirely different level, though.

  "Get goin, dat dorf chest should give you a few hours before da lava eats it up, maybe more since Thork put some mojo on it too.
"

  Alto nodded. "I can’t thank you enough for your help."

  The troll offered another toothy grin. "Nope, yous can’t. But dats okies." He turned and reached into the rift, doing something that caused it to start to shut. He paused and squinted, and then bent down and picked something up. He held up a sheathed dagger and looked at it, and then turned to look at Alto. With a shrug, Thork tossed it to him. He turned and finished securing his portable warehouse door while Alto studied the knife.

  "What’s this?" Alto asked.

  "Dat’s a dagger," Thork said. He laughed raucously until he saw that Alto wasn’t as tickled by his sense of humor as he was. "Thork gots a feeling yous might need it."

  "I have a dagger," Alto pointed out.

  "Not like dis one. Dis will cut frough anyfing. Be careful, the sheaf has mojo to keep it safe, but dat’s one wicked sharp knife."

  Alto studied it for a moment and then tied it on to his belt behind where his broadsword was secured. "I thank you again, my friend. I pray the day comes when I can return these favors."

  The troll nodded. "Thork hopes so too! Buh byes for now. Bonky, let’s go!"

  The goblin tossed aside a bone it was using to pick his teeth with and climbed to his feet. He grinned up at Alto and patted his full belly, and then followed behind the troll as they made their way out of the cave and through a tunnel.

  Alto stood still after they left. Just like that, the troll was out of his life again. He’d been saved a few times by Thork and a more insane explanation didn’t exist for it. He’d heard of protective spirits and even fantastical stories of saints intervening to save a man’s life. Not for him, though. It seemed, if anything, that Alto had a guardian troll.

  He shook his head and turned towards the cave that Thork had recommended. His shield began to dim rapidly, plunging him in darkness in a matter of seconds. Alto’s breath caught in his throat and he listened in the darkness. He thought he heard the distant noise of Thork and Bonky moving away but he couldn’t be sure. Everything felt so close in the darkness. He reached out and hit the mountain on his shield, triggering a fresh burst of radiance that chased the shadows ahead of him away.