by Eric Ugland
“Your choice,” I said.
I looked around to get a better picture of things, to see who was there and what I might have to work with. Skeld was there, as well as eight student-witches, and Vreggork. All the brownies and the other members of my team had gone on.
Down in the valley, a tree got pushed over, and the nesting birds all flew out into the pre-dawn light.
“There are a lot of spiders coming this way,” I said. “Big ones. But I’m sure y’all’ve got more than enough spells to show them what for. So let’s go Skeld. Onward and upward.”
“Finally,” Skeld muttered, and continued marching on the trail.
“You’re leaving us?” one of the girls asked, sweating because she’d put on her warm weather gear but hadn’t actually gone into the cold yet.
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “Look at all those fuckers.”
The spiders halted at the tree-line, about forty yards distant. Hundreds of the little assholes, which meant, in essence, thousands of eyes looking out at us.
“They seem hungry,” I said. “But maybe they’re just looking to make some new friends.”
The girls started hiking in seconds flat, at enough of a pace that I had to tell them to slow down before they got too winded.
I stood at the edge of the valley for a few minutes, just watching the spiders, and letting them watch me. A few came closer, but not one passed into the cold. I hoped the cold was enough to keep them in place until I could come back and deal with them.
Finally, I turned my back on the spiders, and headed uphill.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Hiking with teenagers is rarely an activity you would think of as fun. To be real, if hiking wasn’t often a part of fishing, it wouldn’t ever be in a list of activities I engaged in. It was basically just walking but harder, and I didn’t see the fun of that. Add in a bunch of sullen girls who hadn’t gotten enough sleep and weren’t entirely doing this voluntarily, and you got, well, an exercise in patience.
The whining started about a hundred yards from the border of the valley. I would like to tell you it stopped, but, well, I try to keep this whole thing to mostly the truth. Sometimes they would halt momentarily. Like, for example, after I yelled. Or after Skeld smacked one with the haft of his spear, and I had to take Skeld’s spear away. But in short order, it would resume. And it wasn’t just one of the girls. It was all eight of them. They were tired, cold, wet, hungry. You name it, and they felt it. And it was all terrible.
“They are annoying,” came a voice in my ear.
“You don’t get to talk,” I said. “You’re just riding along.”
“I can still judge,” she said.
“Well, do it silently,” I snapped.
We made the top of the pass in short order, and I allowed the group to take a break. It’s also where I saw the others, just getting prepared to make their way down the other side of the mountain.
Amber gave me a wave, and I trotted over to her.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I heard you using your bow in the valley,” she said.
“It’s a bit obvious, isn’t it?”
“Do not use it in the mountains again,” she said.
“Wait, I—”
“Avalanches,” she replied, then turned and walked away. I watched her tails sway through the air for a moment, then shook my head. She was right. It was bad that I hadn’t thought of that. That sort of noise could make some real problems for us.
Ragnar walked up and stood next to me, also watching Amber walking away.
“No comments bout how much you like watching her go,” I said.
“I would never.”
“Is that what you were going to say to me?”
“Maybe.”
“By maybe do you mean yes?”
“Yes.”
“Have the brownies been any problem?”
“No. They are pretty damn depressed though. That’s something we’ll probably have to deal with in the near future.”
“Their group depression?’
“It’s intense, Montana. They have a lot of suppressed rage.”
“And you gleaned that from walking next to them for a little while?”
“I am an intuitive motherfucker,” Ragnar said. “But it was mainly what Tarryn told me to tell you. I have no idea how he came to that conclusion.”
“Awesome.”
“Fritz has the old witches down at the mouth of the cave. He ferried the other two at the same time. Careena is, uh, there,” he pointed to a small form leading some of the other young witches just over the edge. “She’s been pretty good at keeping those girls moving.”
I turned and looked at Skeld.
“Get them up,” I said. “We’ll take a break later. It’s all downhill from here!”
I wanted to catch my complaining girls up with Careena, let the young witch take over looking after all the students.
Skeld did a fair bit of yelling, which had no effect on getting the girls moving again. Understandable in a sense because otters, no matter the size, are more cute than anything else. And considering that most of the girls were at least taller than Skeld if not also heavier, and intimidation was never going to be his strong suit. I was about to jump in to assist, I seemed to have a certain panache when it came to yelling at the youth. I had always been looking forward to the day I could have a lawn and scream at children who dared trespass across my sacred grass, but that didn’t seem like it was in the cards at present. Then Vreggork unleashed something that sounded a bit like a roar and a bit like a hiss, a sound full of fury and hitting the right evolutionary notes to make the deep lizard brain within most, if not all humans, know that something bad was coming and it was time to flee. Naturally, this rather horrible noise sent the girls running. It was impressive.
I was about to congratulate him on a job well done, but we heard a response. A roar which was from the same general family of sounds as Vreggork’s, but that had a whole lot more behind it. Both in volume, horror, and to be honest, a rather delightful basso profundo.
“There is chance Vreggork has made error,” Vreggork said. “Is maybe big error.”
“Oh?” I asked. “Skeld, get everyone else down the fucking mountain. Bear, you think you can help with that? Do you know, like, a slow fall spell or something?”
She appeared in mid air, and dropped to the ground. I got a glimpse of one of her very tanned legs, and I was about to say something to her about the cold, but by the time she’d landed in the snow, she was wearing furs.
“Neat trick,” I said.
She turned around and gave me a wink, then seemed to skip across the top of the snow running towards Skeld.
This place was weird.
Skeld and Bear yelled at the girls and got them off their lazy butts. Careena seemed to realize the rest of her charges had come with us, and she stood at the edge of the pass, helping the girls get in order and head down the mountain.
”The call to frighten girls, is maybe also one sometimes use for challenge.”
“For challenge. Not getting what you’re saying.”
“Challenge. Like for rank or—”
“Duel?”
“Yes. Maybe. You call duel. Yes. Is call for duel then.”
“And something answered your call for a duel?”
“Is likely yes.”
“What thing would do that?”
“Is remembering coward-bear talking about worm in valley, yes?”
“A lindworm. Whatever that is, it’s new to me.”
“Is probably lindworm.”
“Is that a big problem or a little problem?”
“Mostly depends on lindworm. Little lindworm, little problem.”
“What the fuck is a lindworm?”
“You know dragon?”
“I don’t like where this is going.”
“Is dragon, but only two legs, no wings.”
“Smaller than a dragon?”
“Is depe
nding on dragon, yes? Also lindworm.”
“So a lindworm can be bigger than a dragon?”
His eyes went wide as he caught sight of something over my shoulder, something up at the top of the ridge over the southern edge of the pass, where the mountains were.
“Is maybe big problem,” Vreggork said, his voice breaking ever so much.
I turned around slowly, doing my utmost to keep projecting a sense of calm and confidence. Which wasn’t easy — had this moment occurred earlier in my time in Vuldranni, it’s likely my pants would have gotten a bit warmer from an involuntary expulsion.
A very big blue dragon-looking motherfucker stared down at me. He had huge-ass teeth, big ol’ blue eyes that were nearly the color of his scales, and two huge, muscled arms with claws about the size of Skeld tipping each of his three fingers and one thumb.
“Great,” I said. “Well, you called for the duel. So good luck?”
“You leave me?” Vreggork asked.
“No, just, just joking,” I said, wishing I could bolt. “You tell the big guy here that you made the call for me, and I just wanted to talk to him.”
‘You want talk to him. Okay. What if is not him?”
“You think there’s some other lindworm hanging around this valley? Waiting to get a call for a challenge?”
“Is possible, but am thinking doubtful. Him, as in maybe her.”
“Use a gender-neutral term then, Hoss. Try not to start a fight with it.”
“Yes. Is bad idea to fight. You lose.”
“Let’s not test it. Now go talk.”
Vreggork went closer to the lindworm, and the lindworm came further down the slope until it was within the pass area. Which gave me a better look. It was even bigger than I thought, with a head somewhere in the realm of twenty feet long, and a mouth big enough that I could use his tongue as a comfy bed with plenty of room for a partner or three. As Vreggork got closer, the disparity in sizes became comical. The massive creature lowered its snout, eyes almost crossing in an attempt to keep the tiny kobold in view.
I took a few steps closer, just in case I had to jump in and save Vreggork.
There was a rumbling sort of noise that came out of the beast’s giant maw, and I darted forward, grabbing Vreggork and putting him behind me.
The lindworm rose up, partially from surprise, I think, and stared down at me.
A few noises came out of Vreggork.
Smashing! You’ve learned a new language, Draconic.
“... a mistake,” Vreggork said.
“Hrrrrmmm,” the lindworm rumbled. “A mistake?”
“Vreggork,” I said in common, “let me take this, okay? You just head down the mountain side, and I’ll chat and get out of this.”
Vreggork nodded, and said, “Is a him.”
Then he darted away, running faster than I’d ever seen him move before. It was a little surprising to see his complete loss of stoicism.
Then it was just me and the worm.
“You are a stupid human,” the lindworm said in draconic.
“Aren’t you quick to judge, hot pants,” I snapped back at him. Also in draconic.
The lindworm tilted its massive head to the side and moved back a little farther from me.
”You speak The Language?” It asked.
“Kind of funny that kobolds think their language is The Language, and now you guys—”
“It is The Language. It was spoken in this world before any other was.”
“You got me there. I am Montana of Coggeshall, duke of Coggeshall.”
“You claim this holding?”
“I do.”
“And you are here to challenge me for it? Bold of you, little man. You will make a nice snack.”
“Or,” I said, taking a step back and holding up my hands, “we could chat about all this.”
“You would speak with me?”
”I’m here doing that already.”
“Hrmmm.”
His hrm was loud enough that I felt my teeth rattle.
“How do I know you are worthy of talking to me?” It asked.
“Can I have your name?”
“I am Grirsenarth.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I said.
“If you are able to draw my blood before I kill you, I will consider you my equal.”
Then he struck.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I dove to the side, coming up in a roll, and then leapt again.
There was a crash as the lindworm’s mouth slammed into the snowy ground.
I slid to a stop superhero-style, with one hand balancing me against a rock. I was reaching for my knapsack when one of the giant claws came around.
Again, I had to jump back, and I got to feel his claw comb through my long beard.
The other hand was already coming in fast, and I couldn’t get out of the way in time. It crashed into me, and I went flying.
Fortunately, my flight path didn’t head out of the pass so much as into one of the walls of the pass.
It definitely rattled me, and by the time I figured out what had just happened, I was rolling down the hill like the Dread Pirate Roberts. I jammed my hand into the snow, which dislocated my shoulder. But, I stopped. I got to my feet and looked at the lindworm, Grirsenarth.
Or where the lindworm should have been.
Just then I heard something above me. I didn’t even look — I just leapt off the incline, and then sprinted when I reached the semi-level ground of the pass.
A huge thud sounded behind me, and I reached into the bag for the only thing I needed just as I got hit by a whipped tail.
This time, I grabbed onto the tail and refused to let myself go flying. Which meant I absorbed the blow in my body more than the first hit, and felt a multitude of bones creak. And the bizarre sound of flesh being crushed. Minor issue with bones that don’t break, all the other stuff in your body does. Pain erupted everywhere, a fiery sort of ‘please-give-up-and-die’ that I was becoming all-too-familiar with.
But I didn’t listen. My body was stupid. It didn’t know what I was doing.
What I was doing, rather, was to get a moment where I could snag a specific sword from my bag and use the Eternal Xiphos of Sharpness and I plunged it into the lindworm’s tail.
There was a roar of pain, and I released my grip, hoping the draconic beast would stop as it had promised.
I may have skidded across the ground, and then I staggered up, one arm hanging pretty much useless now, one leg bending in an unnatural direction. Sure, my bones couldn’t break, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be popped out of socket or pulled apart.
Grirsenarth did stop. He stared down at me with his ginormous eyes. Then his mouth opened wide, and he laughed.
“It has been a long time since I have been bested, human,” he said. He plucked my sword out of his tail, and tossed it my way. “You have a sacrificial manner of fighting. I cannot imagine you will last too long. But while you are alive, I will call you my equal.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling my body starting to pull back together, the process both disgusting and painful.
The lindworm was very interested in the process. He got his face close to me, and sniffed.
“You are not a human,” Grirsenarth said. “Are you?”
“I’m not,” I replied, bending over and grabbing the xiphos. I slipped it back into my bag.
“Most interesting. And you are able to repair like this after every battle?”
“I am.”
“Perhaps I was mistaken in thinking you my equal.”
“I’m pretty sure you are, I certainly don’t think I’m up to par with any dragons. But I’m going to ride it. I could use a local ally.”
He chuckled. “Perhaps not with a dragon, but a lowly lindworm? Certainly.”
“You don’t seem lowly.”
“I failed to kill you.”
“Many have. Like those spiders in that valley.”
“Are you the reason t
hey are so riled up?”
“You could say that.”
“And if my nose tells the truth, the witches and fairies are leaving. You?”
“Mixture. Me and the spiders. Spiders are taking over. For now.”
“What is your plan with me, then, Duke of Coggeshall?”
“Hey man, I just wanted to meet you,” I said, thinking that it might not be prudent to admit the whole thing was a mistake on Vreggork’s part.
“And now we have met. Would you send me on my way?”
“Is there anything that you want?”
He paused, and I could see he was thinking. If I had to guess, and I did at that point, I would have thought he was trying to decide if he was willing to tell a relative stranger a very personal truth.
“I have been in these mountains for many seasons,” he said slowly. “I have seen many come through the passes and the valley over the ages, and none have yet tried to speak with me. Some hunted me, some sought my treasures. But none spoke. You alone have done so, seeking to speak to me even before I was willing to speak to you. You sought neither my horde or my head. I would call you friend, Montana of Coggeshall. And I would ask, perhaps, if you might return and speak with me from time to time.”
“Sure,” I said, moving my arms and torso, loosening up as I felt the last bits of myself healing. “I’ll call you friend as well, Grirsenarth. And I would love to visit you and have a chat now and again. Minor favor, though, try not to eat my people.”
“It would seem I have plenty of spiders to keep my belly full in the coming months. Quickly now. A storm is coming.”
He gave me a lindworm smile and then took his two giant arms and propelled himself up the side of the mountain, disappearing around a rocky cliff.
I stood there a moment or two longer, wishing I had remembered to ask him about the mystery and/or secret of the valley, why it was so warm and whatnot. But I hadn’t. Maybe because I’d been busy getting the shit kicked out of me. Little things like that have a way of confusing a person. Then I jogged off after my people.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
There is no real way to express how unpleasant the day became. I carried families of brownies down until they were able to walk again. And then I clambered back up the steep slopes and did the same for witch after witch after witch. As soon as one saw I was willing to be a mule, the rest were quick to require similar treatment. Even for someone like me, with truly limitless reserves of stamina, I felt winded and annoyed standing in the entrance to the kobold cave by the end of the day.