Child of Fate

by Jason Halstead

  “What do you mean?” Alto asked, examining some dents in the scales of his armor from the wolves’ teeth.

  “Wolves yesterday and today both? And the size of them—I’ve never heard of such attacks,” Kar explained.

  “They’re just animals,” Alto said with a shrug. “Hungry and vicious, but animals.”

  Namitus shook his head. “I’ve been on a few patrols through here and we’ve never seen them this brave. Nor have they been these kinds of wolves.”

  “These aren’t normal?” Tristam asked.

  “The Kelgryn call these mountain wolves or iron wolves. Their fur is darker and they’re stronger and bigger than a normal wolf. Usually they stay in the mountains. It’s rare to find one on the plains, let alone packs of them.”

  “Are the creatures driving them out?” Alto asked.

  Namitus and Kar both shook their heads. “The Kelgryn say wolves like these have evil in their hearts. They’re not just hunters—they’re wicked.”

  “Aye,” Kar agreed with the rogue. “There are many animals in this world that are natural enough, but there are also different breeds of those animals. By taking the largest wolves and breeding them and teaching them, they show intelligence and cunning beyond what a normal wolf might. And they’re turned to darker things in the same fashion.”

  “Never thought of goblins as wolf trainers,” William chuckled.

  “A wolf like these would snap a goblin up,” Kar agreed. “They’ve been trained by others, and for a long time for there to be so many. Mayhaps whoever did so is long gone and they’ve continued to breed on their own. Our answers lie ahead of us.”

  Tristam soothed his skittish horse and then climbed back into his saddle. “And it’s time we found them out. Let’s go, we must be close.”

  More than an hour later, Namitus found the boulder that served as a door to the secret cave. Alto stared at the large rock, remembering the details he’d tried to commit to memory when they’d emerged from the troll’s lair. He shook his head, disappointed that he hadn’t recognized it sooner. Namitus had a better sword and kept proving he had a wealth of experience and knowledge beyond Alto. If Alto couldn’t find something that he did better, then what right did he have to court Trina?

  “Alto!” Tristam pulled the young man from his frustrated thoughts. He hurried over to the rock and put his hands against it. Brute force, he had that over Namitus. The rock rolled slowly until there was enough room for the others to slip through. Torches were struck to light the tunnel before Alto slipped in and let the boulder roll shut behind them.

  “Ah, cave sweet cave,” William grumbled.

  “You want to stay out and wait for that wolf to come back with friends?” Tristam asked him.

  “I was just admiring the stonework.” William flashed an overzealous grin.

  Tristam smirked and led the way deeper into the cave with Alto moving right behind him. The way was uncontested until they reached the closed wooden door that led into Trolwerkz.

  Tristam removed his helm and pressed his head against the door to listen. He frowned and backed away, and then shrugged. After replacing his helm, he rapped his knuckles against the wood. A few moments passed before he repeated the action.

  “What da fear?” They heard the muffled voice of the troll say, “Bonky!”

  “Fear?” Alto whispered.

  “Jarook is the patron saint of fear,” Karthor whispered behind him. “Unless I miss my guess, our savage friend is a priest of Jarook.”

  “I thought he was a shaman?”

  “Different title, same calling.”

  Alto grunted and Tristam beat on the wood a third time. A moment later, they heard things being dragged out of the way. When the door opened, Bonky stood there wearing a dented breastplate and shield. He held a short sword in his other hand and a dented helm sat crookedly on his head. His skin was lime green this time and he was scowling at them.

  Standing behind and above Bonky, Thork had his spear poised to thrust. He grinned when he saw them and backed up. His shield whacked Bonky in the back of the head as he spun away. “Ey dere! Welcome back to Trolwerkz!”

  “It’s good to be back,” Tristam lied. He held his ground, waiting for the surly goblin to step aside.

  Thork reached over and picked Bonky up and moved him aside. “Let da guests in, stupid,” Thork said.

  Tristam led the others into the shop. It had changed since they’d last been there. The tables were cleaner and several bags had been stuffed full. “How’ve you been, Thork?” Alto asked.

  “Good!” Thork grinned but his smile faltered quickly. “Well, mebbe not so good. Da fing is dis place is getting so dere’s no fun. Thork is finking it’s time to move on.”

  “Oh!” Alto frowned.

  “We’re sorry to hear that, about the lack of fun, that is,” Tristam said.

  “What brings yous guys back?”

  “The pass from Highpeak through to the mountains is blocked,” Tristam explained. “This is the only other route we know of.”

  “Dis is bad place for yous guys,” Thork said, shaking his head.

  “We know, but our people are in danger,” Alto interrupted. “Will you help us?”

  Thork frowned and sucked on one of his tusks. He shrugged a moment later and grinned. “Why not? What yous need? Ooh! Dat reminds me, Thork found sumfin for yous!”

  They risked glances at one another to try to keep up with the easily distracted troll. “Do you know a way out of the caves?” Alto asked the troll. “Other than the one we came through.”

  Thork turned, ignoring Alto while he pawed through a couple of bags. He pulled out several bottles and a few casks, and then a pair of boots and finally a sword. Alto stared in shock; there was no possible way the bag could hold the sword, let alone the rest of the items it had contained.

  Thork turned and thrust the sheathed weapon to Alto. “Here, yous can have dis!”

  Alto took the weapon and looked at it. The pommel resembled a claw holding a black pearl and the crosspiece had another black pearl set in the middle of it. The arms of the crosspiece were designed to catch an opponent’s blade and protect the wielder. The hilt was wrapped in a black leather that Alto couldn’t identify. He pulled the blade free of the scabbard several inches and instinctively felt the quality and balance of it. The fuller that ran down the blade was as black as the pearls.

  Alto handed it back to the troll. “I can’t take it; I haven’t earned it.”

  Alto heard a few gasps and another person whispering something behind him. Thork frowned and shook his head. “Thork doesn’t use swords. Yous can have it.”

  Alto frowned. “It’s a fine weapon, my friend. I don’t have any way to pay for it.”

  “Stupid, Thork is givin’ it to yous!” Thork said.

  Alto chuckled. “I’ll earn it then,” Alto said. “If not now, then as soon as I can.”

  Thork grinned and turned back to another sack. “If yous going to stop Barndoor, yous is gonna need some help. Dem mountain trolls is tough. Mebbe not as tough as a swamp troll, but dem has skin like stone. Dat sword is magical—it will cut frough it. Dem others won’t. Use some of dis stuff.”

  “Barador?” Tristam said. “We never said we were going after him.”

  Thork gave the warrior a look even Bonky didn’t merit. “Thork isn’t a stupid. Yous need to head up da ramp and frough da door. Dere’s lots of rooms up dere, and Barador is gonna be in one of dem.”

  Tristam blushed and nodded. “My thanks, Thork.”

  “Here, put dis on yous swords,” Thork said again when he pulled out a tin. He kept going until he’d retrieved six additional small metal flasks. “An here’s some potions for yous to keep you from being bashed.”

  Tristam and William grabbed a tin and a potion, and then the remaining four Blades grabbed a flask. Alto unbuckled the sword at his side to change it out with the new one Thork had given him. He then slung the old sword across his back. “Thork, I mean it—I wil
l be back and I will earn this,” Alto said. He thrust his hand out to the large green-skinned being and earned a hearty laugh and a shake that nearly wrenched his arm off at the shoulder.

  “Get going. Thork’s got more packin’ to do!” the troll said.

  They turned and exited Trolwerkz through the front door. The cave was empty ahead of them, but they knew it would only be a matter of time until they ran into the creatures that lived within them.

  “I think I know what that sword is,” Namitus said in a hushed voice to him.

  “It’s a broadsword,” Alto said. He patted the hilt with the hand holding his shield.

  “No, it was made for a Kelgryn warrior named Kevard by a sea witch. He sought her out to have a weapon that could slay the creatures that sought to do harm to his people. In return, he had to make her his wife. He succumbed to his injuries sustained saving the fledgling Kelgryn nation from its enemies. His body and the sword were lost on the field of battle,” Namitus explained.

  “What happened to the sea witch?”

  “She bore the first king of the Kelgryn and became the first wise-woman.”

  Alto looked down at his sword. He nodded slowly and said, “Then it belongs to the Kelgryn. I will do my best to wield it with honor until I can return it to them.”

  “Seems a waste of a fine sword to me,” Tristam said. “It was given to you, no matter where it came from.”

  Alto frowned. “We’ll see. Until then, I expect it’ll come in handy.”

  “Aye, but don’t do anything stupid. It won’t make you any harder to hit,” Tristam reminded him.

  Alto grinned. “I learned that lesson the last time we were in here!”

  Tristam took the lead again and started down the passage toward the cavern with the bridge of rock to the upper passage and the caves that Barador made his home in. Their torches cast better light than the multi-colored splotches of light Kar’s spells radiated. The cavern was empty, causing more than a few sighs of relief. They climbed the ramp and found it unguarded. The gate was closed but the bar was resting against the wall.

  “Not going to get a chance to try out that sword at this rate,” Tristam said to Alto.

  “I’d be okay with that,” Alto said.

  Kar chuckled behind them. “The best blow a warrior can make is the one he never has to.”

  “Until that day, keep your blade ready,” Tristam said. “Now be ready; we don’t know what awaits us.”

  Alto nodded and reached out to the door. He pushed it open slowly at first; when they saw nothing, he heaved against it so Tristam could step through the opening. Alto followed as soon as Tristam was out of his way and stepped clear for Karthor, William, Kar, and finally Namitus to follow.

  The tunnel before them was cut smoother and straighter than the other side of the gate. Supports were spaced regularly in the cave and cressets with rags soaked in fat burned along the walls. Some of the flames were burning low, proving they hadn’t been changed in hours.

  “Guess we don’t need these anymore,” William said before he tossed his torch to the floor. The others followed suit, freeing up a hand for weapons to be drawn.

  “Come,” Tristam said. He advanced down the hall toward an opening they could see ahead of them.

  The end of the tunnel opened into a hallway with more flaming cressets and two rows of tables in the hall. Several doors were set in the walls. The most prominent doorway was a closed set of double doors to their left at the end of the hall.

  Tristam started toward it but Alto caught his attention by waving his blade. “If that’s Barador, let’s check the other doors first. Better to have any reinforcements dealt with first instead of at our backs.”

  Tristam’s eyes widened. He nodded and let a wry grin spread on his face. “You’ve been paying attention to your lessons on tactics.”

  Alto felt his chest swell with pride and followed Tristam to their right, where he opened the first door. The doorway led to a room filled with eight beds, all of them empty. They wasted no time rifling through the contents of the beds; instead, they moved to the next door and found an identical room. The third room had more promise with only a single bed and a desk.

  Kar started toward the desk but Karthor stopped him. “We should check the other doors first,” he whispered. Kar scowled but relented when Tristam nodded in support of the priest’s words.

  The next room came with a surprise. A man looked up from his desk when the door opened. “How many times do I have to tell you fools to knock before enter—”

  Tristam ran in and surprised the old man. He jumped up and back to evade but tripped over his chair and crashed onto the ground. Tristam lowered the point of his sword to the man’s chest and held it steady.

  “Not another word unless I ask it!” Tristam demanded. The captive nodded.

  “Where is everybody?”

  “They’ve gone to reinforce Highpeak,” their prisoner said.

  “Why aren’t you there?” Kar asked. Tristam turned and glared at him.

  “Somebody had to mind the caves and I’ve work to do.”

  “What sort of work?”

  “Kar!” Tristam hissed.

  The man looked between the two, and then his eyes settled on Kar. “You’d understand, I think.”

  “You’re a wizard?”

  He nodded.

  “What’s your name?” Tristam asked.

  “Fizzulthorp.”

  “Ever heard of him?” Tristam asked Kar.

  “I don’t know every wizard in the world!” Kar protested.

  “Well, Fizzulthorp, I’d just as soon kill you, but you might come in handy.” Tristam said to him. “If nothing else, I can turn you in to General Fisk and earn a bonus.”

  Fizzulthorp’s eyes widened. “Perhaps I can offer a better deal?” he gambled.

  “Perhaps not. Alto, bind and gag him.”

  Alto sheathed his blade and used {the} rope Namitus provided to tie the man’s hands. He looked to the bed and tore off a strip of the sheet to use as a gag. When he was finished, he kept the wizard close while Kar perused the contents of the books on the man’s desk. He nodded thoughtfully and then turned to the wizard. “Elemental magic?”

  Fizzulthorp nodded.

  Kar turned to a chest at the foot of the wizard’s bed. He went to it and studied it, and then frowned. “Trapped?”

  Fizzulthorp shrugged, earning a rough shake from Alto. He nodded.

  “Magical?”

  Alto had to shake him again to get a second nod.

  Kar scowled. “I’ll have to deal with it later then. Bring him along.”

  Tristam cast his eyes over the room a final time. He risked opening the drawers in the desk and found a purse filled with coins. He grinned and poured their contents into his own pouch. “A bonus with a bonus, I like that,” he said. Fizzulthorp glared at him.

  They found the remaining rooms empty as the wizard had promised. The final double doorway led not to Barador’s quarters but out of the caves to a small clearing on the side of a mountain. A few buildings had been erected, as well as a pen for horses. They looked around but found the camp empty save for a single horse. A road led from the clearing down the side of the mountain toward a valley with steep walls.

  “That looks like where I climbed out of the caves the last time,” Namitus said.

  “Where you heard Barador talking to the dragon?” Kar asked.

  The rogue nodded.

  “It bothers me that there’s no one about,” Tristam said.

  William laughed. “Be thankful!”

  Alto pulled the gag out of his prisoner’s mouth. “What say you?” he asked. “Should there be people about? Goblins, at least?”

  He shook his head. “They’ve all gone to Highpeak,” he said.

  “Why? They can’t hope to hold it against the Kingdom army?” Tristam asked.

  Fizzulthorp shook his head. “Perhaps against men and goblins, but against trolls and ogres? With organized leadership
, they’ll keep the Kingdom at bay until the weather turns, and then the king’s men will be forced to abandon the siege. Barador will have his city and Duke Covington will be forced to recognize him because he can’t muster force enough to run him out. Then I’ll be returned, perhaps ransomed or perhaps not. I can save you a lot of trouble if you’ll let me go now. I can give—”

  “Alto!”

  Alto pulled the gag back into the captured wizard’s mouth, ending his empty promises.

  “All right lads, let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “Highpeak. The Kingdom and Jarl Teorfyr will attack from the front, perhaps as soon as tomorrow. We’ll use that to slip in from behind and confront Barador so we can earn our reward,” Tristam said. He glanced at the sun as it was heading steadily toward the west. “And we’ve got no horses, so we best be on the move.”

  Chapter 20

  The only paths in or out of the valley wound down the steep sides of the mountains. Tristam led them in on one such trail from the northeast. The goblin campsite Namitus pointed out was all but deserted. A few goblins remained, tending to fires or hiding in their huts. They fled before the Blades could give chase, diving into holes in the mountainside or escaping amongst the crude huts.

  Rather than waste precious time in pursuit, Tristam bade them push on. They left the valley via the only other route available and paused high on a ridge to catch their breaths. They’d reached a crossroads where one trail led to the southwest and toward Highpeak and the other wound into the mountains to the northwest.

  “What’s that way?” Tristam demanded of Fizzulthorp.

  Alto removed the wizard’s gag and waited while he spat and gasped for breath. The climb had fatigued the man. “Trolls,” he wheezed when Alto placed a helpful hand on the back of his neck.

  Tristam nodded. Alto allowed the man a quick drink of water and then gagged him again. “We head toward Highpeak,” Tristam said. He led them down the road as it curved around the rough terrain.