Grack raised his club overhand and was about to drop it on Garrick's head. Garrick hewed into the side of Grack's leg with his axe, staggering the ogre. He swung it up and buried it between the ogre's legs, earning a strangled yelp from Grack and making the ogre drop his club.
The iron-bound cudgel bounced off Garrick's shoulder, adding a flash of irritation from the pain. The northern man stepped back and watched Grack fall to his knees. Blood sprayed onto the sparse grass between his legs.
"I think I'll call you Grirl now," Garrick taunted. He spat on the ogre and picked up his sword. Returning his hatchet to his belt, Garrick turned to the other ogres to address them. He opened his mouth but realized they'd fallen back several steps. He didn't know if it was to give Grack room to fight or what, but he decided to use it to his advantage. "There's a lot of you left, more than you whore-sons can probably count. You could still kill me, but you have to rush me and I won't go easy. I'll kill the first one of you goblin-lovers that comes for me, then the second and the third. I'll keep killing until you bear me down or there ain't none of you left."
Grack spoke in the tongue of ogres, though Garrick could tell his voice was weak. He finished speaking and glared at Garrick. "Grack will kill you, man."
Garrick sneered at him. "You're going to need more ogres next time."
"Grack will be back!"
Garrick looked at the pool of blood spreading beneath Grack and shook his head. "You'll be dead soon," he prophesied. "Send your curs back and I'll let them drag you with them."
Grack glared at him and nodded, and then spoke again to the ogres around him. They grabbed him and hauled him up, and then supported him between two of them as they started to retreat into the mountains. Garrick chuckled at the trail of blood Grack left behind. He wouldn't last the night.
The barbarian turned back to the burning house. A wall fell in and the roof collapsed. An entire family butchered and killed. Garrick turned and found Lars' body. He ignored the gore and picked the young man up, and then carried him over to the fiery hall. He ignored the heat as best he could and tossed Lars into the heart of the fire, and then backed away until his eyes weren't smarting from the heat.
"They're all dead."
Garrick cursed and spun around. His hand was on his sword but he left it sheathed when he recognized the voice as Borwin's. He'd forgotten about the boy in the excitement. Garrick nodded. "They are."
"What about me?"
"You're alive," Garrick said. "Your family was strong; you should be proud."
"Not strong enough," the boy whispered as fresh tears crossed his cheeks.
Garrick found himself at a loss for what to say. He tried to think back to what his father had said to him the many times he'd been difficult. "Your father wouldn't want you crying," he tried.
Borwin looked at up Garrick. "You're alive too."
Garrick nodded.
"You killed the ogres and drove them back."
"I've fought brutes like these before," Garrick explained.
"I want to be strong. Will you teach me?"
Garrick saw the hopeful look amid the unshed tears in the boy's eyes. His heart went to the boy. Garrick turned and stared after the retreating ogres. They'd disappeared back into the mountains up the hill they'd come down. A war party that large he'd never seen before. At least not before Sarya, but she was gone. Had the ogres learned to join forces or was there more to it?
Garrick thought back to Grack and gasped when he realized the scarred ogre had known him. Or if he hadn't known him, he'd been interested in him. Something was happening in the Northern Divide. Something bigger than a tribe of his countrymen being slaughtered.
"Come, boy, but you must keep up. I have a long ways to go and little time to do it."
"You'll take me?" Borwin squeaked.
"I'll take you to my people and they will teach you to be strong. You will learn what your father would have taught you, to hunt and to fight."
Borwin nodded and dropped his eyes. He looked back up at Garrick a moment later and asked, "What will you do?"
"I'm going to find my friends and put an end to the threat in the mountains once and for all!"
Chapter 4
"Are you sure this is what you want?" Alto asked his sister.
Caitlyn stared at him from behind the silks that covered all of her face save her eyes. "Sulim is a good man," she answered.
Alto frowned. "I didn't ask that. No matter how good he is, no man is good enough to deserve you."
Caitlin's eyes fell to her brother's chest and then all the way to the floor. "This from the man pledged to a princess." She brought her head up and looked at Alto again. She nodded. "This is what I want, Alto. He is a good man and he had given himself to me—"
"Now wait a minute, you're not wed yet!"
Caitlin reached up to cup her brother's cheek in her palm. "You're so sweet and caring. My innocence was lost long ago. Sulim doesn't care about that. And if you must know, no, I don't mean we've laid together."
Alto's scowl faded to a blush. He cleared his throat and glanced around before admitting, "None of my business, I suppose. You're a grown woman and all."
"But you'll always be my big brother," Caitlyn said.
"If you're not sure about this, we can go back north. I'll cut a path through them if they try to stop us," Alto said.
Caitlin's eyes wrinkled, the only sign that she was smiling Alto could see behind her wedding veil. "You would, too. My brother, dragonslayer and hero of the north!"
Alto scowled. "Stop it. This is about you."
She nodded and turned away from him. "It is. It's all about me."
Alto frowned from behind her and then stepped forward to put his hand on her shoulders. "Caitlyn, are you sure you're all right? You're acting odd."
"Wedding nerves is all," she said before she reached up to grab one of his hands and give it a squeeze. "My life changes tonight. In a few minutes."
"For the better?"
Caitlin nodded. "I've spent the last year out of place. Everyone treated me like family but I wasn't and I knew it. I wasn't royalty. I wasn't even kelgryn, but because of you they took me in."
"I built a new house for you on our father's land," Alto said.
Caitlyn sighed. "It's your land now, Alto, not mine. I never want to go back there. Not after what happened."
"That silly mask is driving me crazy," Alto admitted.
Caitlyn laughed. "Me, too, but it's only for the wedding. I take it off when we pledge ourselves to each other and never have to wear it again."
"I've heard that's not all you take off," he growled.
"Revealing ourselves to our spouse is a tradition in Shazamir," Caitlin said. She laughed when Alto stiffened and then spoke to set him at ease. "These days removing the veil is act enough; few couples disrobe in front of an audience."
Alto exhaled the tension in his shoulders.
"Come on, brother, it's time. I'm sure all that armor must be heavy and hot down here."
Alto shrugged, shifting the polished plate mail he wore. It was a gift from the dwarves for his help in clearing out the mines so they could work on reestablishing their mines. Being dwarf forged, the fit and comfort was remarkable. "It's not so bad. Better than wearing chain or leather. In fact—"
Caitlin reached up and put her finger to his lips to silence him. She glanced at the door but saw that they were still alone in the small anteroom. She smiled and pulled Alto down so she could press her veil-covered lips against his. The kiss was brief but it left Alto startled. "Thank you for this."
Alto felt the heat in his cheeks rival the heat from the sun in the desert nation. "This is you," he said.
Caitlyn shook her head. "No, I'd be dead if it weren't for you. Or maybe a beggar or the wife of a peasant who didn't know the world beyond his plow."
Alto frowned and nodded. His father had been a farmer by choice, giving up the life of a warrior out of love for his wife. Alto had nearly been a peasant h
imself until fate changed his fortune. It changed both their fortunes, he realized. "I've only done what I could to give you what you deserve. The right to choose your own life."
Caitlyn smiled and turned to the door. "Come, brother, give me to my new husband."
Alto took a deep breath and let it out before he took Caitlin's hand in his and then took the first step forward. He pushed the door open with his other hand. They paused to a collection of doves being released to fly up and out through the open windows above them in the palace chapel for Saint Havar, the patron of duty and honor. Music started, signaling Alto to guide his sister down the carpeted aisle to where Patrina stood in her two-piece blue Shazamir dress. Alto had to fight to keep from stumbling as his eyes fell on her; she was so beautiful with the long skirts floating about her legs and her pale midriff on display.
Alto escorted his sister down the aisle and then presented her to the southern lord who had courted her in Holgasford. He recalled the ceremonial words he was supposed to say and hoped he'd get them right. "Lord Sulim Badawi, I present to you my sister. May she keep your cup from running dry."
Sulim smiled and bowed his head. "It is my great honor to join our families, Lord Alto. May the saints favor us with many children who will bring their uncle pride."
Alto forced a smile on his face and stepped away to stand beside Patrina. He wasn't interested in Sulim's children bringing him pride and honor; he wanted Caitlyn to be honored. Alto pushed his irritation at the strange customs aside and forced himself to keep his eyes on the proceedings.
"Alto!" Patrina hissed at him.
Alto jerked and stiffened. The droning of the priest of Saint Havar had forced his thoughts to wander. Seeing the wedding reminded him of what was in his future; once the negotiations with the dwarves ended, Teorfyr, Patrina's father and the jarl of Holgasford, could begin rebuilding the lost city of Rockwood. Teorfyr had named Alto the lord to rule Rockwood, a choice the dwarves had been pleased with. It was there that the pleasantries had ended.
Now Alto saw that the priest was finishing the blessing of Sulim and Caitlin's union. Sulim lifted the veil from her face and let it fall to the floor, a symbol of their openness to one another. She was smiling, Alto saw, and that soothed the dull ache in his heart.
Alto smiled and clapped with the others, and then cheered them on as they walked out of the church. Patrina's arm wrapped around his and forced a grin on his face he couldn't hide. She smiled at him, her blue eyes sparkling beneath her blond hair that had tiny jewels threaded into it.
"I'm getting tired of all these parties." Namitus stepped up to them and sighed.
Alto saw the smirk on his roguish friend's face and knew better than to believe him, even though they had been strung from one party to another practically since they arrived two weeks ago. "I bet. All the attention a man who can sing and dance earns hardly suits you."
Patrina laughed. "Let's hurry; they'll expect us to be there. I'm her maid of honor and you're her brother."
Alto nodded. "Allow me, my lady," he said with a flourish.
Patrina's smile drove the worries from his mind as she said, "At your pleasure, my lord."
Namitus groaned and rolled his eyes as the two walked down the aisle arm in arm.
Servants guided them through the massive palace to the hall where refreshments and entertainment had been set up. Sulim was a cousin to the king of Shazamir, too far removed to have any chance at the throne but still a member of royalty. Sulim's wealth came from a large parcel of land he owned along the Khalalid River. In addition to providing water for the farmland along its shores, the Khalalid brought life-giving waters to the desert and to the Shazamir capital of Mira.
In the reception hall, they were seated at a table near the head table where Sulim and Caitlin were waiting. A line was growing as people moved to express their congratulations to the new couple. Alto saw his sister basking in the attention and it made him nod his head. "Perhaps this is for the best," he muttered.
"What's that?" Patrina asked him.
"Alto's finally accepting that his sister has grown up," Namitus offered.
Alto glared at his friend. "That's hardly it," he argued. "She's nineteen, older than many to be wed."
Patrina scowled at him. "Among your people, maybe."
Namitus laughed and earned another glare. Patrina was twenty and though she'd pledged herself to Alto, they had a year or more before they could be married.
"Among the people of Shazamir, too," Alto defended himself. "I've heard they marry girls as young as twelve and thirteen!"
Namitus's laugh turned to a snort. He hurried to take a drink to hide his embarrassment before saying, "That's long past. It's been a hundred years or more since there's been a marriage like that. At least a marriage of state; I don't know about the commoners."
"How do you even know that?" Patrina demanded.
"I've been here before, remember? Before I sailed north and enjoyed your father's hospitality."
"You were treated like a son!" the princess fumed.
Namitus held his hands up to calm her. "I was, and I'm eternally grateful for the kelgryn taking me captive and not killing me. It was the best six years of indentured servitude I've ever served."
Patrina's eyes narrowed as she stared at the rogue. Alto bit his lip to keep from laughing and cast about for something to distract the woman. "Clothing!" he blurted out, drawing strange looks from both of them. "I mean, the clothing here. The dresses and such. It's more than they usually wear but I think it's quite fetching. Would you consider it up north?"
Patrina stared at him for a long moment and then looked down at herself. She wore a blue silk top that covered her breasts, shoulders, and upper arms but left a lot of neck and upper chest on display. Strings hung from the bottom with beads of colored glass threaded through them to cover another couple of inches of her abdomen. Her matching silk dress sat low on her waist and reached most of the way to her sandals.
The kelgryn princess looked up at Alto. Her cheeks were glowing red as she said, "My mother and father would banish me for even suggesting something like this!"
Namitus nodded but wisely kept his mouth shut. Alto saw the nod out of the corner of his eye. "But you're wearing it and seeing your beauty makes me want to forget what is proper."
Patrina laughed. "You had your chance, remember? Now you'll just have to wait."
Alto frowned and lightly punched the table. His awkward question had worked, though; he'd distracted her and spared Namitus a verbal beating. Not to mention a possible international incident.
"So now what?" Namitus asked.
"We should pay our respects to the bride and groom," Patrina said to Alto.
Alto glanced at the long line. "Later, when the line dies down," he said.
Patrina sighed. "We'll need to leave before it gets too much later."
"What? Why?" Alto asked.
Patrina smiled. "Weddings in the south aren't like the weddings we have up north."
Namitus burst out laughing. They both looked at him and he chose to take another long drink.
Patrina shook her head and resumed her explanation, "Where we have dancing and toasting, they have entertainment. It's geared towards the bride and groom, although mostly to the groom."
Alto's brow furrowed. He refused to jump to conclusions but he couldn't help fearing the worst.
"There will be dancing, but at the end Caitlyn will dance for him and only him."
"Saints," Alto muttered as he turned to glare at Sulim. "How do you know this?"
"She asked me to help her with her dance."
Alto's head whipped around fast enough he pinched the skin of his neck on his armor. He ignored the twinge and glared at her. "You helped her?"
Patrina smiled and nodded. "You're not going to want to see it."
Alto turned back to Caitlin and saw her glance over at him. She offered him a smile but he saw something more this time. He saw a tightening of her eyes that he knew mea
nt she was nervous.
"She's nervous that you'll see her," Patrina answered his unspoken question. "She's afraid of what you'll think. Of what you'll do."
"She should be," Alto growled.
"Alto, she's not your responsibility anymore," Patrina said. "She's a grown woman, ready to take on her new life."
Alto clamped his mouth shut and glared at his hands. He nodded at last and looked up at her. "All right, I'll let her go."
Patrina shook her head. "Don't do that; just let her live her own life."
Alto nodded and stared into the distance. "She's the only family I've got left; it's hard," he admitted.
"You've got me," Patrina assured him. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "Not that I need much looking after. I'll probably end up taking care of you."
Alto chuckled. "Yeah, because I've never had to rescue you before."
She grinned and leaned in to brush her lips against his.
"Hey, don't forget me. I was practically the stepbrother Patrina never wanted," Namitus spoke up, ruining the moment between them. "That makes us almost inseparable!"
Alto pulled back and smiled. He shook his head. "Come on, let's get out of here. Patrina's right. It's time my sister led her own life."
"Where are we going?" Namitus asked.
Alto shrugged. "I'm sure you can find another party."
Namitus frowned. "What about you two?"
Patrina winked at the boyish rogue. "I've been wanting to see the palatial gardens and I think Alto's the perfect escort."
Namitus's eyebrows rose as the two stood up from the table and began to move around it towards the exit. Alto caught Caitlin's eye and held it for a moment, and then he smiled and nodded to her. She grinned and returned the nod, and then gave him a small wave.
Order Of The Dragon (Omnibus 1-4) Page 4