Victim of Fate Page 25

  "Karthor said you shouldn’t be moving!" Tristam reminded them.

  "Of course he did; he wants me to get better as fast as I can," Namitus said with a shrug. "No reason I can’t recover on the road nearly as well."

  "What of you, Mordrim?" Patrina called out loud enough for the dwarf to hear her over the clink of his silverware.

  He looked up and around, and then settled his eyes on her. "What’s that?"

  "You were sound asleep last night. Will you come with me?" Patrina asked him.

  Mordrim reached up and picked a piece of sinew out of his teeth and then flicked it on his plate. He grinned at Patrina. "My lady, I’ve done what I came to do here. I found my ancestral halls and they was overrun with vermin. Someday I’d like to reclaim them, but that day’s a long ways off, I think. Until then, I’d be honored to put my hammer at your side."

  Tristam snorted beside Patrina.

  Patrina nodded. "I’m glad to have your service as long as you offer it," she said, accepting his fealty.

  "Eat up; when you’re finished, we’ll head out. Lord Ayerl is arranging rides for us."

  "Um, about that," Mordrim said. "I’m not so good with horses, see."

  Patrina smiled. "I think they’ve a few ponies, if you prefer?"

  He nodded and returned his attention to the last of his breakfast. His beard hid most of the redness in his cheeks.

  "Garrick?" Patrina asked.

  "I’ll go," Garrick said. He tossed the mutton bone he’d been chewing the meat off back on his plate and leaned back to belch. "I’m ready now."

  Patrina raised her eyebrow. "So I see. And hear." She was prevented from saying more by a commotion outside the door that preceded it opening and Lord Ayerl stepping in so quickly he nearly ran into her.

  "Lady Patrina!" he snapped. "There’s, uh, there’s something outside."

  Patrina frowned and pushed past him. Her hand dropped to the sword at her side she’d been given in the caves, but it fell away as soon as she saw the source of the disturbance. "Winter!"

  The unicorn snorted and pawed the ground, and then trotted over to her and pushed his head against her to nuzzle. She reached up and patted the magical beast and visibly relaxed as she stroked his neck. "How did you find me?"

  He whickered and shook his head, and then pawed the ground. Patrina watched him carefully and nodded. A smile slipped onto her face. "You know where I am, don’t you? And as soon as you knew I was out of the mines, you came to find me."

  Winter nodded.

  Patrina’s smile faded. "Alto’s still down there. He…he gave himself to give us a chance to escape."

  Winter stomped the ground and whinnied. He back up a step and reared up on his legs, crying out even louder. Other horses in the village took up the cry.

  "He was a good man," Patrina agreed. "I need to go and tell his family. Are you tired or can you make the journey?"

  Winter snorted and lowered himself to allow her to mount him.

  Patrina laughed and rubbed his side. "Soon. My friends are finishing breakfast and they will come along with me."

  Winter shook his head and pawed at the ground with his hoof.

  "You can go faster than they can, can’t you?"

  The unicorn nodded.

  Patrina grabbed one of her braids and twisted it in her hand. It only took a moment for her to decide. "You and I then, we’ll go now. They can follow or not, I don’t care."

  Winter lowered himself to make it easier for her to mount him again. She sprung onto his back and looked down at Tristam and Ayerl, who stood in the doorway. She was about to say more when Winter stepped back and looked at the ground. A distant rumble, almost like the sound of thunder, reached them from the north.

  "What was that?" Patrina asked.

  "No, what is that?" Ayerl pointed to the north.

  Above the trees, they saw a thick and dark smoke rising from the mountain. A few moments later, a second plume appeared and then a third and a fourth. The ground shook again, hard enough to cause Tristam and Ayerl to grab the hall and for Winter to spread his legs for balance. The rumble that followed rolled across them and left an eerie silence in its passing.

  "The mountain’s changed," Ayerl announced a moment later. "The eastern end has fallen."

  Patrina twisted to stare at it and saw what Ayerl meant. From their distance, she could see how the thickest smoke rose from that portion of the mountain. The smoke quickly obscured their vision, but it seemed to her the forest had been cleared in that area by the earthquake.

  "What happened?" Tristam asked.

  Patrina stared and felt a fire light in her heart. "Do you think Alto did it?" she asked.

  Tristam stared at her and then at the mountainside. Before he could answer, others pushed out of the hall and from houses, staring around and turning eventually to see the smoke rising into the sky.

  "Volcano?" Kar asked, putting a possible explanation to the incident.

  "Alto," Patrina stated.

  Kar’s laugh died abruptly on his lips. "How could that boy blow up a mountain? Even the most powerful of spells can’t accomplish such a thing!"

  "The mountain’s not blown up," Patrina said. "It just shifted a little."

  "A quake like that will kill everything under it," Mordrim announced. Several people looked at him, earning a shrug from his thick shoulders. "I’m a dwarf. I know how the earth moves and what happens to the poor fools mining it when it happens."

  "I’ll be damned," Tristam muttered.

  Patrina nodded, a smile on her face. She turned to Mordrim. "Are you sure that no one could survive?"

  He barked out a laugh. "Not a one, on my mother’s beard."

  "Your mother has a beard?" Garrick asked.

  Mordrim turned and scowled at him.

  The flicker of hope in Patrina’s chest faded, leaving an icy pit in its wake. She sighed and then said, "He’s done an impossible thing yet again."

  Namitus, Karthor, and even Kar bowed their heads at her words.

  "Tristam, catch me up if you wish, or meet me at Holgasford. I will have work for you there."

  "My lady?" Mordrim asked.

  Patrina glanced down at the dwarf and then offered her hand. "Ride with me, Mordrim."

  "My armor!"

  "There’s not a man nor boy in all of these lands that could hope to wear it. Lord Ayerl, can you see to it that it’s sent to Holgasford and given to my mother for safekeeping?"

  "It will be done," Ayerl said.

  "Now will you ride with me?"

  Mordrim grumbled something and then turned and glared at the others. Seeing no challenges, he took Patrina’s hand and then jumped up and managed to scramble awkwardly onto Winter’s hindquarters. He turned and glared again when he heard a few snickers. Only Garrick was grinning.

  "Mind your manners, boy, or I’ll teach you when I get back!" Mordrim growled at him.

  Garrick laughed and offered his fist to his chest. "I look forward to the lesson!"

  "Come, Winter, as fast you can! We’ve much work to be done and not enough time to do it."

  Winter neighed and stomped the ground with his foot, and then lowered his head and was off like an arrow from a bow.

  Chapter 27

  Alto stumbled out of the cave, tripping on the first rock he failed to notice. He forced himself up on a knee and looked around, trying to pierce the thick air. It was brighter and colder outside the caves, but the air was filled with a strange fog. He thought it was snow at first when he saw it landing on his arms, but the flakes were large and didn’t melt.

  Alto brushed the gray flakes off and caught the lingering odor of charcoal and sulfur. He turned and looked behind him to where an increasing volume of dark smoke was pouring out of the cave he’d exited.

  He hadn’t wasted any time after he’d recovered from the terrifying vision that drinking Thork’s potion had given him. The rumbling in the depths of the mountain had given him wings, causing him to rush through the passage in
hopes of finding an exit. He’d encountered two more groups of goblins and had slain or wounded them all. He hadn’t stopped to check in his haste. The smoke had come then, choking him and urging him to hurry if he hoped to ever see daylight again.

  Now the smoke was littering the countryside with ash. Alto reached up and brushed it from his hair, watching as it fell to the ground. He coughed again and searched for the sun in the sky. A brighter spot amidst the gray background hinted that the sun was setting in the west.

  Alto paused and thought back, counting the time he’d spent in the mountain. "Two days? Three?" he mumbled to himself. He heard a noise and turned back, hand on his sword. A faint tremor passed underfoot in time with a rumble he heard in the tunnel. A fresh burst of smoke and dirt burst out of the entrance but then it seemed to have sealed itself off, for no more came out.

  "Time to go," Alto reminded himself. He turned away and started down the mountainside. There was snow underfoot but it was stained gray by the ash. His makeshift boots protected his feet but made each step treacherous and slippery.

  Four times on his solitary trek to the south, he found himself waiting quietly while groups of goblins, ogres, or wolves would wander by. The wolves he feared the most, thinking they might smell him, but the ash that was slowly lessening seemed to help disguise him. That and all of the creatures seemed more concerned with getting away from the mountain than with anything else.

  The sun set and plunged the world into a near total darkness. Alto stopped, fearful of hurting himself or running into foes at night. He’d made it to the foothills, but where that put him in relation to Holgasford or Highpeak remained a mystery. He wintered beneath a snow and ash covered pine tree, shivering through the night even though the ash provided a layer of insulation that trapped some of the heat from his body.

  With morning came a new day and a new start. The sun shone down on him when he emerged from his shelter. With it came an icy wind that set his teeth to chattering. His dwarven mail made for fine protection from swords but it did nothing against the cold. Alto turned himself to the south and started out, determined to move as fast as he could.

  He’d traveled less than an hour when a creature burst out of a dirty snowbank he’d been using as a windbreak. It made him think of the mud monster from the caves, except the new threat looked like the snow had come alive and walked on two legs.

  Alto fell away and managed to come up on one knee with his sword drawn in defense. The creature’s foot kicked him in the stomach, sending him sprawling again and knocking the wind from him. He managed to keep his grip on his blade but it was of no use when he felt claws dig into his scalp and yanking his hair and his head up and back.

  Alto pushed up with his legs, slamming his back into the creature’s chest and dodging the arm that swept in with the intent of tearing out his throat. He twisted away from the monster and slashed with his sword as he staggered free.

  Facing it squarely, Alto got a good look at his adversary. It was nearly the size of an ogre and covered in long fur that had been white before the ash fell from the sky. Five fingers ended in dangerous-looking nails that came to points. Blood was darkening its right arm where his sword had cut. Alto knew what it was even if he’d thought them creatures of myth told to frightened children.

  The yeti howled and rushed at him. Alto jumped forward and to the yeti’s left, confusing it and cutting his sword across its left shoulder. They both spun to face each other but Alto was faster. He stepped back to the other side and cut low this time, hewing into the creature’s thick leg. It wobbled and tried to retreat but Alto pressed his attack, scoring minor wounds that confused it and then plunging his sword into its chest to kill it.

  "I’m warm enough now," Alto mused after a few moments of breathing hard and calming down. He stared around, anxious to find out if anything had heard the fight and was coming to investigate. By the time he felt safe, the chill from the wind had started to set in again.

  Alto glanced at the yeti’s dirty fur. "Since you’re not using it anymore," he muttered and then drew out the magical dagger Thork had given him. Taking great care, he skinned the yeti and cut the fur clear from its torso and back. The yeti’s hide reminded him of a black bear that his father had killed a few years back. The skin was thick and the creature had fat built up to keep it warm.

  He cleaned it with snow as best he could, and then after trying to dry it with pine boughs and wind, he draped it over his shoulders as a cape and continued through the forest, heading south. An added benefit Alto hadn’t considered but soon realized was how well the cloak served to hide him in the snow.

  Shortly after the sun had crested and began its downward plunge, Alto emerged from the foothills to rolling plains. He spun and considered his position from what he remembered. He guessed that Highpeak was a day or so to the northwest, putting him farther west than he’d expected. That meant Holgasford was several days’ travel by foot.

  Unbidden, the memory of Alto’s family being butchered flashed through him. He frowned and turned to the west. If he pushed hard, he could be there in a couple of days. Perhaps less, now that he was in safer lands.

  His decision made, Alto started out. He pushed himself into a jog and ran until his lungs were screaming for air. He slowed but kept walking, putting distance under his feet until he felt his breath return so he could run again.

  Alto continued this form of travel, alternating speeds, until well into the evening when he crossed over the road from Portland to Highpeak. The only traffic he saw was a rider far to the south heading away from him. He pushed on and did not feel the first hunger pangs until after the sun had set.

  He weighed his choices while stopped and leaning against a tree. It had been days since he had eaten. His hunger had gnawed at him for a while and then faded and brought a weariness with it. Then he’d met Thork and the troll had helped him recover from his time spent in the river. He hadn’t been hungry anymore and he’d felt like he was at full strength. He’d started to feel hungry again when he’d fought the goblins and ogre, but after drinking the potion he’d been refreshed and full, if concerned for his family’s sake. Now more than a day had passed and he was starting to swoon from lack of food, yet he had no priest, shaman, or potion to make do.

  This was his land, though, or near enough to his father’s farm that he knew how to hunt it. After a day of running, he doubted he had the energy left to chase down a rabbit, nor did he have a bow. He had two knives and a sword. Alto took out his old dagger and searched for suitable places to dig some holes. He used his shield to provide light while he set four traps and then covered them with sticks and leaves. Now that he was out of the mountains, the ground wasn’t frozen and the snow wasn’t sticking around.

  He huddled up in the yeti cloak that night on the lee side of a small hill. In the morning, he found his traps empty; though something had fallen in one of his pits, it had also made it back out. Miserable and hungry, Alto pushed on for another day’s forced march.

  Alto dined on three small apples that were high on a tree that evening. Long past their prime, one of them was shrunken and the taste was off, but he was ravenous enough it didn’t matter. Other than briefly quieting his stomach, it did little to offset the weakness he felt.

  The famished warrior awoke the next morning and forced himself to his feet. His body ached and even his chest felt heavy when he tried to draw in a breath. He was close, he knew. A few more hours and he’d be there. His mother would insist on feeding him then. With thoughts of being stuffed so full he’d be forced to spend another week unable to eat, he pushed himself into a jog through the rugged back country.

  He slowed as he neared the farm. He saw landmarks he hadn’t thought of it a while, guiding him in. He found the hill where earlier that year he’d first met the Blades of Leander and then helped them drag the bodies of the goblins to burn. He came across the field where his father had been injured when a goblin spooked Gemini, his plow horse.

  Alto stopp
ed, breathing deeply and feeling a strange chill run down his spine. What if they were gone? What if it hadn’t been a trick of the potion? He shook his head. It couldn’t be; they had to be there still. How would Beck even know where his family lived? He had mentioned knowing Alto was a farmer, but Alto made no secret of his past.

  The former farm boy pushed ahead, walking along the side of the field and coming around the edge of a stand of trees. He saw his father’s barn as he walked past the trees. His stomach growled, the promise of food hastening his step.

  Alto stumbled and came to a stop when he neared the corner of the barn. A cold breeze blew a smell he thought he'd left in the mines. It was the smell of blood and death. He frowned and stepped around the corner, only to stop again. Scattered throughout the yard between the house and barn were the bodies of chickens, cats, and a few goats. The barn door was smashed open and inside he saw the sightless eyes of Gemini staring out at him. His father's horse lay in a pool of its own blood.

  Alto turned, his eyes going to the house. The front door and all the windows on the lower level were smashed in. He turned again, his heart in his throat and the apples he’d eaten the night before feeling rancid in his stomach. He found what was left of his family on poles near the path that led from their farm to the road beyond.

  Alto moved forward without realizing it. His body was numb and his mind fogged over. He stopped and stared up, seeing the heads of his brothers and sisters where they rested on poles driven into the ground. On either side of them, he found his mother and father, both crucified to timbers. He stared up at them until he realized his view had changed. He was on the ground and everything was blurry. His vision hadn't been a cruel dream; it had been a foretelling of what was soon to come.

  Had Thork known all along? Was Alto just a plaything to him? Was this how the saint of fear and his followers tormented others? And would it have made any difference? There was nothing he could have done to stop this, nothing save heeding his parents and never having left to become a warrior.

  But then they might have all been killed when Sarya's forces swept through the region. Alto gasped as the vision flashed through his head again. Caitlin wasn't here! He was still alive and so was she, or at least she had been when Beck had taken her in his vision. He forced himself to look up at the remains to make sure she was missing.