Victim of Fate

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Victim of Fate Page 14

by Jason Halstead


  "Are the memories of the Kelgryn so fickle they forget their friends?" Tristam asked. "We rode with Lady Patrina and rescued her earlier this year."

  The guards turned to consult when another and then ushered them through and bade them dismount so they might stable their horses. A soldier with a long blond beard met them inside the gate and said, "Then you are friends, but times are difficult. One of your men, Alto, was already here."

  "Was here?" Namitus interrupted. Tristam turned and silenced him with a glare.

  "Yes, he was. He arrived with a unicorn, of all things, and then gave it to the Lady Patrina. Then she went off riding on and the beast came back without her. Your man rode out with the jarl and his men to find her."

  Tristam swore. "When was this?"

  "Two days back now, about this time."

  "They’ve not returned?" Kar asked.

  The guard turned to study the wizard. "No, they’re still in the northlands."

  "Alto’s a tracker," Tristam mused aloud.

  "Does anyone know where they are?" Kar asked. Before the guard could speak he added, "Other than to the north."

  The guard snapped his mouth shut and shook his head. "You should speak to Lady Kenna, the jarl’s wife."

  "If it’s all the same, we’ve been on the road riding hard for days to meet up with Alto," Tristam said.

  The guard’s brows furrowed, an expression mirrored by Karthor and Tristam.

  "You wish lodging?"

  Tristam laughed. "My apologies, good man! No, we’d best be off if we’re to catch up with them and help."

  The guard’s beard twitched upwards in a smile. "You do your deeds justice," he offered. "Ride north by northwest. I saw them head that way until darkness fell and I could see them no more."

  "Our thanks," Tristam said with a nod. He turned and climbed back into his saddle with a masked groan.

  "One thing more," the guard said, giving them pause. "The unicorn that Alto rode, I hear tell his name is Winter. He runs so fast he’s more like a white hawk streaking across the countryside. He left the jarl with only dust to track."

  "Aye, we’ve learned all too well how hard it is to follow that beast," Kar quipped.

  "Tell your lady that we’ll find them, hopefully with everyone safe and on their way back. If not, we’ll make sure of it."

  They turned and rode back out of the city and made their way around the city. Homes and shops were set up outside the wall, slowing them with the traffic of merchants and of shoppers. When at last they cleared the crowds and found the open countryside ahead of them, they bid their horses stretch their weary legs and gain as much distance from Holgasford as they could.

  "We’ve no idea where we’re going." Kar had to raise his voice to be heard over the trotting horses.

  "North by northwest the man said," Tristam shouted back. "If you’ve become a tracker, you’re welcome to help."

  "A blind fool could track the contingent of guards the jarl took with him," Kar snapped.

  Tristam peered ahead of his horse and then gestured at the ground before them. "Put your eyes where your mouth is, wizard. That was days ago and we’re moving too fast to be certain of anything."

  "If Alto and the unicorn were running as fast as that guard said, the jarl and his men would be near a full gallop in pursuit," Karthor said.

  "So they would," Kar agreed.

  "All the more reason to ride fast," Tristam said.

  Kar frowned. "Hoping for the best seems the province of priests. Finding them a day later is better than not finding them at all."

  "Unless we find a field full of crows feasting on their rotting corpses."

  "All for a missing princess?"

  "Remember the last time Trina went missing?" Namitus spoke up. "I was there and it wasn’t no bit of chance or bad luck."

  Kar frowned but didn’t refute the rogue.

  "So we ride," Tristam confirmed. "Keep an eye out for smoke or campfires; we’ll go as late as we can without risking laming the horses."

  "I’ve already lamed myself days ago," Kar muttered.

  Tristam smirked but gave the wizard no other satisfaction for his surly comment. They rode on, chewing up the ground and searching for any sign of the jarl or Alto.

  * * * *

  Two days later, early in their ride, Namitus spotted the jarl’s campsite. The sites were abandoned but only by a few hours judging by the warmth left in the fire pits.

  "Wizard, you said even a blind fool could follow them; prove it."

  "I’m no blind fool," Kar retorted.

  Tristam opened his mouth but Namitus interrupted him. "I’m probably part fool, at least. I can see where the ground’s been torn up over there."

  "Into the hills?" Tristam followed his words by searching the ground where Namitus pointed. He saw the frost-covered ground churned where the horses had entered the foothills of the Northern Divide.

  "Seems our enemy still has plans for the princess," Kar said.

  "Because they’re headed for the mountains? This isn’t even near the secret entrance to the troll’s lair," Karthor said.

  "Trolwerkz," Kar said, his voice dripping with disdain. "It’ll be too soon if I ever step foot in there again!"

  "So why do you think Sarya wants Patrina?" Karthor asked.

  Kar frowned. "I don’t know why, but it seems obvious enough. Why else would they go into the mountains?"

  "The eastern reaches of the Northern Divide," Tristam muttered. He turned from staring at the distant mountains to look at Kar. "Isn’t the entrance to the mines over this way?"

  "In ages past, but those were covered by landslides," Kar said. "The lesser entrances that might still be open would be in the mountains or on the northern side. They might be taking her into there. I read that the dwarves had some tunnels so long they were hundreds of miles in length."

  "Let’s move; perhaps we can catch them up in the hills," Tristam said. He spurred his horse into action and led his companions after the jarl’s forces.

  Their ride was short-lived. Less than half an hour into the hills, they found a group of Kelgryn milling about, some on their horses and some on the ground. Tristam flagged them down as he approached, making certain his actions weren’t threatening. Within moments, they were led to the jarl.

  "Ah, Tristam and the Blades of Leander. Alto said you’d be coming. Your timing is most ill-timed."

  "Ill-timed?" Tristam frowned. "We set out with Alto from Portland at the same time, but we were separated on the way here. He made better time," Tristam said. "Is he here now?"

  "No, he’s as lost as my daughter is."

  Tristam frowned. "Jarl, what’s going on? We’ve heard rumors in Holgasford."

  "The lad brought my daughter a unicorn! A unicorn, by the saints!" Teorfyr said. He shook his head and chuckled. "Winter’s his name. And I’ve seen him ride. Winter’s not like a horse I’ve ever seen."

  "He flies, we’ve heard," Tristam said.

  "Yes, he does," the jarl said. "Come, you can meet him."

  "The unicorn is here?" Kar sputtered.

  Teorfyr nodded. "And he’s acting up. Seems downright angry."

  "So where’s Patrina and Alto?" Karthor asked.

  The jarl sighed. "That’s the problem. Winter came back when Trina had disappeared and Alto swore that the unicorn wanted him to help get her back. He hopped on his back and was off like an arrow from a bow. We followed as quick as we could, but just this morning we came across Winter wandering through the hills, acting lost and confused. Even for a horse, he seemed off."

  Kar grunted. "Take me to him."

  Teorfyr nodded and led them through a pass between the hills to where Winter was pacing back and forth. Occasionally the unicorn would stop and paw at the ground or rear up on his hind legs and kick his front legs into the air.

  "This is Winter?" Karthor asked. "He’s beautiful."

  "That he is. Dirt doesn’t seem to stick to him and that horn, I swear it’s been glowing in th
e shadows."

  "It very well might," Kar muttered. He pushed forward and walked past the men that stood watch around the small pass where Winter kept returning to. He held up his hand to stop the unicorn and opened his mouth to speak. Winter stomped his foot hard and lowered his head to point his horn at Kar directly. An unmistakable bluish white glow sprung from his horn. Winter scraped the ground with a hoof again in warning.

  "Father, step back," Karthor warned.

  Kar frowned but backed up. "Discretion does seem to be the better part of valor," he admitted.

  Karthor stepped past him. "Winter, I know nothing of your kind but I’m told you’re very smart. If you know Alto and Patrina, they are our friends. We want to help them. Can you help us find them?"

  Winter snorted, but the unicorn lifted his head up and stared at Karthor. At length he nodded, and then flicked his head.

  "What’s he doing? Has he got fleas or something?" Namitus asked.

  "He wants me to come closer," Karthor whispered.

  "You should be tracking, you’re the fool," Kar said.

  Karthor frowned. "No, I think I’m safe."

  "Famous last words," Tristam warned.

  Karthor stepped forward and walked slowly toward Winter. He came to a stop before the unicorn and waited, staring at the magnificent creature. Winter returned the gaze and then lowered his head. It wasn’t an act of submissiveness; it brought his still glowing horn in contact with Karthor’s forehead.

  Karthor grunted and fell back, collapsing on his back and kicking out with his arms and hands. He shook his head and sat upright, and then held out his hand and cried out to his friends who had started forward. "Hold, I’m not hurt. He wanted to show me something."

  "That he could knock you on your arse?" Kar snapped. "I understand why no wizard’s published a proper discourse on these beasts—they’re dangerous and irrational!"

  "No," Karthor defended Winter. "No, he’s not. He’s worried. More than worried, he’s scared."

  "Scared of what? We didn’t bring any sausage makers with us," Kar snapped.

  "Father!" Karthor admonished the wizard. "He’s worried about Trina and Alto. He showed me things, memories of what he’s seen and more. I’m not sure what, really, but I think it makes sense."

  "What makes sense?" Kar snapped. "The ravings of a mutant horse?"

  "He doesn’t like you, either," Karthor said. "You’re not trustworthy."

  The wizard harrumphed while Namitus and Tristam both chuckled.

  "There’s a fissure down that pass where Alto was taken. Trina was taken elsewhere; they were surprised while riding across the plains."

  "Taken by who, and where?" Tristam asked.

  "Two men, one looks to be a wizard," Karthor said. He shrugged. "He had a wand, at least."

  "Probably a wizard," Kar admitted. Winter used his hoof to draw a symbol in the ground, three interlocking circles inside a fourth circle.

  "I’ll be damned," Kar breathed. "That’s a rune for sorcery."

  "Sorcery? Is that bad?" Tristam demanded.

  Kar waved his hand. "Sorcery, wizardry, magic, or whatever you want to call it. It can apply to a great many things. And no, by itself it means nothing, simply information."

  "Great, so we’ve got a unicorn that fancies himself an artist," Namitus slipped in.

  "Does he know where they went?" Tristam asked, ignoring the rogue.

  Karthor turned to look at Winter. "Do you?"

  Winter dug its hoof into the ground and traced another figure, this one an arrow pointing north and east.

  "If he knows, why’s he still here?"

  "He’s been bested twice by the wizard; he needs help."

  "Well, he’s found it," Tristam said. He turned to Teorfyr and nodded. "Jarl, if you don’t mind, we’ll be taking our leave and going after Alto and Trina."

  "I do mind," Teorfyr said. "We’ll come with you."

  Tristam frowned. "We’re to ride hard; if you or your men fall behind, we won’t hold up for them."

  Teorfyr laughed. "I offer the same advice to you. It’s of little matter; neither of us is likely to outrun Winter!"

  Chapter 17

  "How are you?" Patrina whispered after they’d walked most of an hour through the white forest.

  "Feet hurt and I can’t move my fingers," Alto admitted. "Doing great other than that."

  "Well, that’s good," Patrina said. When Alto gave her a scowl, she added, "No, I mean about your feet. If they hurt, that’s good; you can still feel them. Your boots might be keeping them warm enough."

  Alto grunted and then fell silent. Patrina watched him as she walked, amazed that he could go on. The man had run for days straight, pausing only when their captors had needed a break. And the part that made the least sense to her was why they were after him. Alto was just a farm boy. A lucky farm boy, at that. He was handy with a sword and strong as a horse, but that was it.

  Or was it? He’d brought Winter to her.

  Alto stumbled and threw his hands forward to catch himself but his fingers jammed through the snow and into the frozen ground. Patrina heard at least one of them crack before he pitched over onto his side and struggled to rise up. She grabbed on to him and helped him right himself in the snow.

  "Get up, you oaf," Patrina hissed at him.

  "Caught my foot on a branch," Alto mumbled as he stood.

  "Sure you did." Patrina looked at his hands and bit her lip to keep from crying out. The middle finger on his left hand was bent back at an impossible angle and his pointer finger was bent off to the side looking just like his thumb. "Look at me, farm boy."

  Alto turned his head and glared at her. He opened his mouth but before he could say anything, she grabbed his hand and yanked his fingers back into position. Alto stopped trying to talk and stared at her, his mouth hanging open. He looked down and saw she held his cold hand between hers.

  "Your hand is so cold," Patrina said.

  "I felt something. What did you just do?"

  Patrina felt the heat in her cheeks fighting against the cold air. "You broke your fingers when you fell. I just set them."

  Alto pulled his hand free of hers and lifted it up to look at it. A couple of his fingers twitched but the two that she’d straightened remained straight. Alto frowned and raised his eyes back to hers. Patrina felt something in her chest release and it stole her breath.

  Patrina grabbed his hand in hers again and pulled it to her. She pressed her lips against his blackened and frozen fingers. "I wish you could feel this," she whispered, her warm breath lost on his numb skin.

  "Um, me, too," Alto said.

  "We’ll get this fixed," she promised.

  "I’m not much use without my hands," he said.

  "I’ve seen men with injuries like this; they find a way to get by," Patrina said. She forced a smile on her face. "I know you, you’ll find a way."

  "You’re wasting time!" Tyrus called out.

  Patrina jerked her gaze away from Alto and saw Garrick staring at her with his fierce blue eyes. She forced her eyes to keep going until she saw Tyrus scowling at her.

  "We’ve got most of another hour to go, less if we throw him over one of those horses," Tyrus added.

  "I can walk," Alto growled.

  "Well then prove it!" Tyrus turned and stomped off.

  Patrina turned back to him and smiled. "I think I know why one hand is worse than the other." She looked down at his hand with the dirty ribbon wrapped around the wrist. "That scrap of cloth was probably tied too tight; it cut the blood off early. You should take it off."

  Alto looked down at it and then back up at Patrina. He smirked. "Can’t."

  She felt her heart twist in her chest and she fought the urge to snap at him. "Oh, okay, sorry I mentioned it," Patrina stumbled.

  "I can’t use my fingers to untie it," Alto said.

  Patrina narrowed her eyes at his poorly-timed joke. She’d offered him something and by making fun of her, he’d spurned her. She shoul
d have expected as much; he was just a stupid farm boy with a sword! She shook her head slowly and turned away. "Come on, I don’t want to be left alone out here."

  "Maybe you could help me later with it?" Alto asked as he tried to catch up to her.

  Patrina nearly stumbled in the snow at his question. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. He was such a bumbling oaf, all brawns and no brains! Or at least not smart enough to know enough to stop crossing her at the wrong time. "Try to keep up," she tossed over her shoulder at him. Maybe she’d help him but he’d have to earn it.

  The remainder of the hike was done in silence. Patrina continued to check on Alto, fearing he might fall again from the way he weaved back and forth. The injured warrior managed the powdery snow without complaint.

  Patrina smelled the wood smoke before she saw the huts scattered amongst the evergreens. Tyrus led them through the village, passing a primitive smithy and a hut where animal skins were stretched out for tanning. People emerged and watched them as they passed, and then followed behind them until they stopped before a large hut with a fence made of stones and wooden timbers.

  "Wait here," Tyrus told them before he opened the door and stepped through. He pulled it shut behind him and left them to wait.

  Patrina turned and saw Alto’s gaze was focused on the hut before them. She imagined it belonged to the chieftain. A healer wouldn’t have the largest hut in the village, or at least not larger than the chief. She thought back to what little she knew of the northern savages. Seldom did her people deal with them, except on rare occasions when they came to trade. They were simple and fierce. They prized hunting and feats of courage. Alto, she knew, would do well among them if he had his hands.

  She turned to stare at him. He remained oblivious of her, focusing solely on the hut before him. She saw Garrick watching her from behind Alto, but she forced herself to ignore him. She’d beaten him but she feared it had been surprise and luck. In a real fight, his size and strength would destroy her. She might wound him or maybe even kill him, but not before the barbarian crushed her.

  Garrick wasn’t her concern, at least not at the moment. She admired Alto’s determination and focus, even as she wondered if he’d ever felt that way about her while he rode north with Winter. He might have started a farm boy, but he was far more than that. He wasn’t a warrior either, or not simply a warrior. Alto reminded her of the stories Namitus had told her of ancient knights in faraway lands.

 

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