Chapter 12
After a fitful night of restless sleep, they made ready to set out in the morning. Karthor invoked Saint Leander’s blessing after his morning prayers on their injuries.
“This is miraculous,” Alto whispered when he felt the pain lessen and then go away from the bruises and cuts he’d received.
“Minor wounds such as these are simple to heal. More serious injuries like what Drefan and Gerald had taken far more of Leander’s attention. I have a long ways to go before I’ll be worthy of requesting such intervention. Or at least having my requests answered,” Karthor explained.
Alto frowned. “Like my father.”
Karthor nodded. “Yes, like your father.” Finished with both the conversation and restoring Alto’s health, Karthor went on to give Tristam the aid he could to ease the ache in the warrior’s hip.
Alto moved near Patrina. “I never knew how amazing a priest could be,” he said for her benefit. “Is your leg better?”
Trina glanced at him. Her eyes narrowed for a moment and then she nodded. “Yes, I’m fine now.”
“Good!” Alto blurted. “Uh,” Alto hesitated. He had no idea what to say to her. He grabbed the first thing that came to mind, a conversational tactic he’d seen his father use many times when they went to Monterose for supplies. “What’s the weather like where you’re from?”
Trina’s eyebrows scrunched together for a moment, and then her mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut and answered him in a tone as cold as the weather she spoke of. “The weather? You want to know what the weather’s like? Most of the year it’s cold and wet along the coast. If you can survive the storms and the monsters, you’re sure to make a name for yourself!”
Trina turned and stormed away from him, going to check on Karthor’s progress. Alto watched her go, confused. He turned to Namitus and saw a sad smile on the man’s face. “What’s so bad about the weather?” Alto whispered to him.
“Trina’s like the coast she speaks of,” Namitus answered. “Stormy.”
“Frigid seems more like it,” William offered from where he overheard them. The three chuckled but Namitus and Alto’s laughs were short-lived. It was just as well; Karthor finished with Tristam and it was time to be on their way.
They had only Karthor’s holy symbol and whatever light Kar’s magic could provide to guide their way, so Karthor replaced Alto behind Tristam. Kar conjured small globes of light that resembled overzealous fireflies. His magical lightning bugs floated above them as they walked out of the chamber and through the tunnel that led upwards into the mountains above them.
It curved slowly until a column of rock split the tunnel in two. They approached it carefully, wary of a trap after so much time without being harassed. Tristam saw an opportunity for an ambush at the chokepoint. When they reached it, they found it was more than a simple pillar of rock; it split the passage off into new tunnels.
The larger cave lay on their right but the one to the left showed more signs of passage in the way the rock was scratched and worn smooth. They ventured left, hoping that the upward slope of the tunnel indicated a quicker path to the surface. After a few dozen feet down the new passage, Tristam called a halt and forced everyone to back up to the junction again. The walls and ceiling had closed in on them, forcing more than just a single file; many of them had been forced to turn sideways just to ease their passage.
“The cave’s too narrow; we’ll be jammed in it and stuck,” Tristam told them. He swore and added, “I swear I felt a touch of air on my face, too.”
“Let me go,” Namitus offered. “I’ve no armor and I can wiggle into places only a goblin would dare go.”
“You’re too big!” Alto protested.
Namitus grinned. “Wait and see. I’ll scout it and tell you what I find. Might be only a few small scrapes and it opens again.”
Tristam frowned. “All right, but be careful.”
Namitus unbuckled his belt and slid the scabbard and sword off. He thrust it toward Alto. “This is my share, you can be sure I’ll be back for it!”
“No weapon? What if you come up against a goblin?” Alto said before taking it.
Namitus drew a dagger. “I’ll have this with me,” he said. “I spent a lot of my youth with little more than a knife.”
Alto nodded and took the sword from him. “Be careful!”
Namitus smiled and moved to the lefthand passage. He stared up in it and then closed his eyes. “I can feel the air on my face,” he confirmed Tristam’s earlier claim. “I’ll be back.”
Namitus slipped into the passage and disappeared from view as the walls narrowed. The last they saw of him was him working his way sideways around a corner while ducking at the same time. The darkness and rocks claimed him, leaving them staring into the dark passage with silent expectation. Within moments, the faint sounds of his feet scraping against the rocks faded.
“Now we wait,” Tristam said. He turned. “William, Alto, put an eye to that other passage. Trina, Karthor, look to the tunnel behind us.”
Alto glanced at Trina and saw her jerk her eyes away from him. She turned and hurried down the passage, paying no attention to whether Karthor was with her or not. Alto moved to the righthand passage and stepped past the column. It widened and continued into the darkness beyond the light that Kar’s wisps shed. William took up a position near the column, his crossbow in hand and cocked, but at rest to spare his arms.
The seconds turned into minutes. Alto kept glancing back, wondering if he’d heard Namitus return. Every scuffle of boot against stone distracted him, conjuring fantasies of a quick escape. It wasn’t until the minutes stretched closer to an hour that William hissed and hoisted his crossbow up.
Alto spun back to the dark tunnel and stared. He saw nothing but the inky darkness. He was near to glancing back when he heard a clank of metal against stone, coming from the corridor ahead.
Alto glanced around, looking for a place to hide. He heard a snort from William. When he glanced at the man, William gestured behind him and up at the roof of the cave. Alto’s eyes followed and saw the magical lights. William’s message delivered and received: whoever was coming down the passage knew they were there. Hiding was pointless.
The sound of feet slapping against stone and a crude, guttural language reached them. Seconds later, six goblins emerged from the darkness of the passage, rushing at them with weapons brandished.
William’s crossbow made a thudding sound as the bolt was fired. A goblin in the lead crumpled, clutching the bolt in its belly and losing its balance. Another goblin tripped over the first and fell, but it rose up and rushed on. Alto stepped into the middle of the passage to buy William time to load his crossbow again.
The goblins swarmed Alto, leaping and grunting in spite of the territorial swipe he used to try to slow them. The goblins gnashed their teeth, thrust their swords, and swung their swords and axes. Alto managed to catch one of the suicidal creatures on the point of his sword but he had to stumble back to avoid their slashing weapons. A spear grazed his left arm, leaving a burning sensation as the notched and dull blade tore his flesh.
Alto swung his blade while he tried to back away, glancing the sword off the raised knife of a goblin. The force made the goblin stumble into the monster beside it but the others kept coming. Alto felt an axe connect with the side of his leg. The dull edge and the tough leather of his pants spared him a crippling injury but the force of the impact bruised him and made him jerk his leg back.
Alto staggered to the side, only to feel the bite of a goblin sword on his side between his leather breeches and tunic. The spear-wielding goblin tangled his legs up with a thrust that missed his flesh. Alto fell, crashing onto his back and feeling the air explode from his mouth.
Another goblin kicked him in the stomach and climbed onto his chest. It raised its axe to deliver a killing blow, giving Alto an opening. He grabbed the creature and thrust it up in to the air, throwing it with the desperate movement. As soon as he left his
hands, a bolt slammed into his chest, spinning him toward his feet and killing him.
The goblin with the spear jammed the primitive weapon into his hip. He felt the aged metal tip grate against his bone and it made him grunt as a shock made his entire body jerk. He grabbed the spear by the shaft and yanked it away from the goblin, tearing it free of his leg at the same time.
Panicked and desperate, Alto swung the spear, knocking a goblin with a sword away until he bounced off a wall. He put both hands on the spear and swung it the other way, catching the weapon’s former owner on the shoulder and breaking the spear’s shaft. The goblin collapsed, screaming and reaching for its arm. Alto threw the remainder of the spear at a third goblin with a short sword, forcing it to jump to avoid the twirling weapon.
Alto grabbed his sword and sat up fully. He swung the blade, the tip biting into the goblin he’d swatted into the wall as he started to come back toward him. He reversed his swing and left the blade wedged in the rib cage of the creature. He let go of it and rolled onto his good hip, and then found he couldn’t swing his injured leg around to support himself. He rolled back, gasping at the lance of pain that shot through his hip and into his belly.
Alto pulled himself over farther, hissing through clenched teeth and pulling his dagger free. The goblin with the shoulder he’d broken stared at him and realized that Alto was coming for him. He pumped his legs, trying to scoot across the floor and get away. Alto grabbed one of his dirty feet and yanked the creature to him; he drove the dagger into it blindly until the goblin stopped thrashing and crying out.
“Get up!” William shouted, breaking through the red haze that had overtaken Alto.
Alto struggled and felt fresh agony spread through his hip and abdomen. “I can’t!” he gasped.
“You’d better,” William warned. Alto heard the release of the crossbow and looked up. A creature was lumbering out of the darkness toward them. The creature was humanoid, but humanoid in a way that made a knight wearing full-plate armor look like a pixie.
It entered the light fully, holding a stone-colored hand up to shield its eyes. Alto could see its lower jaw, a blockish chin with canine teeth so large they looked like tusks. Its chest was wide and covered with a dirty white pelt that did little to shield the tree trunk-sized legs it stomped forward on.
Something grabbed Alto under the shoulders. He twisted and looked up in time to be blinded by something slapping him in the eyes. He swung his hands and tried to beat off his latest attacker.
“Alto! Stop it!” Trina hissed at him.
He blinked the tears out of his eyes from whatever had smacked him and made out the blurry form of the Kelgryn girl. Another form appeared beside her and helped her pull him back away from the tunnel. William’s crossbow fired again as he let them pull him back.
Free at last, Alto wiped at his eyes to clear them. His right hand was covered in blood and made it worse at first. When he could see at last, he saw Tristam facing off against the creature that he assumed was a mountain troll. Tristam ducked under the troll’s swing and slipped to the side, and then lunged in and thrust his sword. The hide of the troll was tough as armor, barely showing signs of the impact of Tristam’s blade when he struck it.
“I need to help him,” Alto grunted. He struggled to rise but his hip protested. He hissed and had to focus hard on breathing through the paralyzing pain that gripped him.
“Hold still,” Karthor admonished him. He looked at Alto’s wound, poking it with his fingers, and then reached up to grab his glowing holy symbol.
Alto craned his neck to look past the priest to where Tristam scrambled to stay ahead of the powerful troll’s crushing blows. The troll wielded no weapons other than the dangerous-looking talons at the end of its long fingers. Alto felt his pain lessen as the priest prayed over him.
Kar stepped around them and threw a fine powder onto the floor of the passage. His chanting continued as he made gestures that invoked elemental powers of magic. Moments later, he reached in from both sides as though the troll were in front of him. Hands emerged from the stone wall on either side of the troll and grabbed onto its arms, holding it still.
Tristam jammed his sword forward, trying to impale the creature while it struggled to break free of the wizard’s spell. Kar clenched his teeth and struggled to focus his will against the might of the monster. The concentration required caused his flickering lights to darken and fade away, leaving only Karthor’s medallion of Leander to provide light in the tunnel. Tristam’s sword dug in but the wounds were shallow against the rock-like hide of the creature.
“There,” Karthor grunted. He slumped back, his back leaning against the wall of the passage.
Alto stared at his side. The blood on his flesh and clothing was still wet but he felt no pain. He tested it, raising his leg slowly, and then gave a cry of surprise and delight. He rolled onto his feet and started forward.
“Alto, here!”
He turned and saw Trina holding Namitus’s sword. He’d left it leaning against the rock dividing the passages. He pulled it free of the scabbard and felt reassured by the weight of the blade, even though he knew it lacked the length of the broadsword he preferred. Alto turned as Kar grunted and stumbled back and to one knee. The troll had torn itself free of his spell and sent Tristam stumbling with a glancing blow.
Alto charged toward the troll, shouting an inarticulate cry to draw its attention away from the stunned leader of the Blades. He held the scimitar in both hands and swung it as he ducked under a powerful overhand swipe that would have crushed his skull had he not ducked under it.
He felt the blade bite deeply into the troll. He pulled on it as he stepped past and away from the troll, trying to saw the wound in as deeply as he could. He spun around and continued to backpedal in case the troll came after him. He saw and felt the massive creature fall to its knees, facing away from him. Both hands went to the gaping wound in its abdomen.
“Finish it!” Tristam shouted at him.
Alto snapped free of his surprise and stepped up behind the troll. He swung again, using both hands to put every bit of power he could into the blow. The troll toppled forward, its head rolling forward wetly to rest at Tristam’s feet.
They stared at the troll and then looked up to lock their gazes. Tristam grinned and said, “Nice sword.”
Chapter 13
Namitus worked through the shrinking cave and grimaced each time he felt his back or arms scrape against the rock. The lights his companions used had long since faded but Namitus had always been blessed with night vision. His sensitive eyes had picked out the shapes of the rocks long after any of his friends would not have been able to.
Namitus blinked when he realized the obstruction in the cave ahead wasn’t just a corner in the tunnel; it was a serious complication. He felt around to get a better understanding of the tunnel. Elven blood or not, dark was dark.
Namitus twisted and curled his way around the first of the rocks. He had to pull back into himself and try to shrink his body as small as possible. It reminded him of the time he’d spent as an independent thief, moving from one city to the next in the southern kingdoms. He’d been able to hide from guards or work his way into near impossible places by finding holes smaller than anything he had any right to be in. Years spent with the Kelgryn had made him stronger and added weight that seemed to make the tunnel walls close in on him.
Breathing through a moment when he felt certain he was stuck, Namitus exhaled and inched forward around a curve. His knife was clutched between his teeth, freeing his hands to pull him forward when his legs were at an angle they couldn’t move. The goblins were only a little more than a foot shorter than he was; he wondered if they had trouble making it through the passage.
On the other side of the twists in the tunnel, he found he had breathing room again. He gathered himself together and took the knife back in hand. With his right hand against the wall of the cave, he pressed forward. He saw the tunnel curve to the right and angle up ag
ain just ahead of him.
Namitus stopped at the realization that he could see again. He sniffed the air and closed his eyes. The faint wind was moving against him faster now, but it brought with it some unpleasant smells. The smell of fires almost disguised the foul odor of unwashed bodies and decay. Namitus glanced back into the darkness and frowned. Even if this was the promised exit from the caves, there was no way the others could make it through. Even Patrina, nimble and lithe as she was, wouldn’t be able to negotiate the turns in the passage.
Namitus went forward, moving slowly and checking his steps to keep from alerting any guards that might be waiting. The goblins he’d seen thus far hadn’t impressed him with their intelligence or skill, but he knew that a sword was still a sword, even if it were notched and rusty.
The part-elven rogue climbed up a steep incline, the light in the tunnel growing with every step. He entered a small room and had to squint at the daylight streaming into through a hole above him in the wall of a small room. A series of ledges offered a path to the opening.
Namitus climbed up, relishing the feel of the warmer outside air even if it brought the taint of refuse with it. His stomach defied him, rumbling at the thought of using one of the campfires he could smell to cook some manner of mountain animal. Namitus waited a moment for his belly to settle and then he continued to work his way up to the exit from the caves. He knew he should return; his friends couldn’t follow him so it was pointless for him to explore further, but he couldn’t deny the simple urge to lay his eyes on the surface world again.
He waited at the opening, staring through slitted eyes at a world lit by daylight. A collection of large rocks lay in front of the entrance of the cave, blocking him from seeing much more than a few primitive huts made from trees, animal hides, and rocks. Smoke rose into the sky from the several campfires that lay beyond the rocks. Namitus was about to risk his first step into the outside world when he heard a voice that froze him in his tracks and filled his empty stomach with an icy dread.
Child of Fate Page 13
