Victim of Fate (29 page)

Alto stiffened and held his breath. Thork was
a shaman of Jarook, the patron saint of fear. Alto was scared. Was
it a test? He slowed his breathing and controlled it, and then shut
his eyes. It made no difference on what he could see, but with his
eyes closed he could focus on what his other senses told him. Other
than that he was cold, that is.

Water was dripping from the wall or ceiling,
plunging into the pond. Here and there, he heard the small waves
his movement caused lap up against the walls or the shore, but he
couldn't tell which was which. A different sound, something sliding
through the water and breaking the surface, caught his attention.
It came from his right. He turned slowly to face it, and then
cursed that he'd left his sword and knife on the rocks.

Alto crouched low, moving slowly to minimize
the noise he made, and then waited. He wouldn't be able to strike
first but he hoped he could at least keep whatever was coming for
him from hurting him too badly before he could fight back.

A guttural word he didn't understand split
the air from his left. The force of it struck him with an almost
physical effort. Alto turned and saw light coming as Thork ran
towards him, his large bulk easily clearing the rocks and boulders
in the way. Thork's spear lit up the small cavern with its eerie
greenish light. Alto turned back and saw the sinuous form of
something snaking through the water away from him.

"My thanks! In my haste, I got turned
around," Alto said after he turned back to Thork.

The troll stared past him and then snarled.
"Stupid eel," he said. He held his spear up and spoke in a clear
and terrifying voice, invoking words Alto couldn't understand. A
moment later, he thrust the glowing tip of the spear into the water
and made the entire surface of it agitated. Alto gasped and ran out
of the water. He felt the energy clawing at his skin.

A moment later the eel, which had turned and
come back for Alto, turned again, started swimming in circles,
upsetting the water. The surface frothed around it, surprising Alto
until he realized that it wasn't just the eel that was causing the
disruption. He saw shapes break the surface, some of them fish and
others smaller things that looked like crabs and crayfish.
Different creatures attacked the giant eel until it stopped
snapping back and turned to flee. The horde of creatures clung to
it, bloodying the water and eating it alive until it finally
thrashed a final time and sank beneath the surface.

"What was that?" Alto gasped.

"Blood eel," Thork said. "It smelt yous blood
and wanted more of it."

"Glad to disappoint it. Seems I owe you my
thanks again," Alto said.

Thork nodded. "Yous was a dumdum but Thork
felt yous fear."

Alto nodded and shivered. He glanced down at
himself and saw that his chest and stomach were a shade of
irritated pink now. That, and completely hairless. He groaned and
shook his head. If he complained, Thork might offer him more of the
swamp juice to put some hair back on his chest. He grimaced and
hurried over to pull his pants and boots back on.

"Yous potion is almost ready," Thork told him
while he dressed. "It's cookin now."

"Cooking?"

"Yep. Thork has to get it real hot to melt
all da stuff together."

Alto nodded. "Well, let's go and finish it
then. The sooner I'm out of here, the better. My friends need
whatever help they can get."

Thork guffawed again. "Yous not doing so hot
either!"

Alto grimaced and blushed. He had made a mess
of things many times now. He sighed and started back towards
Thork's cave. One mistake after another because he kept rushing in
blindly. Was it, perhaps, not so foolish when leaders hesitated
before committing their nations or troops to actions that couldn't
be undone?

He found the chain shirt waiting for him
where he'd left it. He glared at it and then sighed and slipped the
cool metal over his shoulders again. His raw skin protested but he
ignored it. The irritation warmed him, at least.

Garrick used his thick sword to smash aside a
gnome. What his steel didn't cut or crush, the impact with the cave
wall did. Another gnome leapt at him, claws and teeth at the ready.
Patrina and Tristam fought behind him, trying to keep up with the
barbarian and protect his flank. He showed no signs of needing
help; he spun and hewed, cutting through the gnomes like a farmer
with a scythe in a field of wheat.

"Garrick, stay with us!" Tristam growled.

Mordrim cracked his hammer against the
clutching arm of a gnome, breaking the bone and knocking the
wretched creature off balance. He spun back, driving back two other
gnomes that had come from the other end of the hallway, and then
reversed his swing and drove the pointed end of the hammer into the
wounded gnome’s skull.

"There are too many!" Karthor spoke the words
they all knew to be true while he cracked his mace against the
snout of a gnome. The priest broke the gnome’s sharp teeth and
stunned it, but it was only one of many anxious to rend him limb
from limb.

Kar finished a spell and lit up the cave with
a ball of fire that streaked out from his hands and blasted aside
the gnome in the passage. "Ha!" the wizard cried out. "Take that,
you filthy rodents!"

The gnomes on all sides of them recoiled at
the display of pyrotechnic magic. Tristam took a moment to look up
and around. "Hurry! Kar’s forced an opening!"

"Garrick! Come!" Patrina shouted at the
barbarian.

Garrick kicked a gnome off the tip of his
sword and looked back at her. His eyes shifted up and behind her,
and then he grunted acknowledgement. The northlander brought the
hilt of his sword down on the crown of a gnome that picked its head
up from where it had been knocked aside earlier, dropping it back
to the ground and letting him follow the others.

"This is the wrong way!" Mordrim griped in
spite of being swept up and running along with them.

"Any way that keeps us alive is the right
way," Tristam said.

They ran down the cave, Kar’s magical lights
floating above them and casting threatening shadows. They left the
smoking bodies of the gnomes behind but soon they were forced to
stop. Two of the subterranean creatures stood side by side to fill
the passage and prevent them from going that direction. Neither of
the gnome guards advanced towards them.

A hole in the wall to their right opened to
another tunnel that widened. Kar sent one of his lights flitting
into it and revealed a large number of gnomes moving towards them.
"Saints!" Kar muttered. "They’re like rats on a sinking ship."

"These two are different," Patrina noted as
she stared at the two gnomes standing guard. The gnomes bared their
teeth but they wore mismatched shirts of mail and plate for
protection. Each held a long-handled axe, a halberd.

"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.