Aleena saw Celos turn from where a priest was trying to walk him to another bench to sit down on. Celos swayed on his good leg and had to be steadied by the priest. He started to lower himself to kneel but Sir Amos waved his hand. "Later, Sir Celos. We'll have a ceremony with the breaking down to indoctrinate both of you into your new roles with the brilliance of Saint Leander's light. Be healed for now and prepare yourself for the morrow."
"Thank you, Sir Amos," Celos said, his voice tight and controlled. Aleena could understand how he felt; she had tears streaming down both of her cheeks.
"I must heal you, Squire," the priest reminded her. "Leg wounds are bad, even if they're not spurting. You've lost a lot of blood."
Aleena nodded and smiled at him, not trusting herself to speak. The priest held his symbol and began to chant. Aleena reached up to perform the blessing of Saint Leander again, silently thanking Him for giving her the strength to fight for Him.
A tingling spread through her and cooled the fire in her hip. She gasped and found herself overcome with the sensation. The divine energy surged inside her and filled her entire body, lifting her up and making her feel as though she was flying. She felt her body tremor and her breath caught in her throat for a wondrous moment. Aleena was in the presence of the divine.
It was gone a moment later. Aleena swooned on the bench and would have fallen off were it not for the priest. "Are you all right?" he asked her.
Aleena nodded her head slowly. She looked up at him and blinked the fresh tears out of her eyes. "So beautiful," she whispered.
The priest's brow furrowed. "Are you sure you're okay? I've never seen anyone act like that after being healed."
She smiled at him. "I felt Leander inside me for that wondrous moment. It was…" she trailed off, searching for words. Finally, she shook her head. "I don't know what it was. It was everything? Amazing? Wonderful? I felt like my heart and mind stopped and I could do anything or see anything I wished."
The priest chuckled. "Everyone has their own reactions. You definitely have Saint Leander's blessing. I've seldom seen someone so completely healed with so little effort on my part. Be careful though, your leg may feel odd at first. And I'd advise a change of clothes."
Aleena looked down and saw what he meant. Her pants were soaked through with her blood all the way from her buttock down to her boot. She resisted the urge to hug the priest and rose to her feet. She tested her leg and found it worked perfectly. With another grin of thanks, she looked around and saw Durak watching from the crowd gathered. He turned away and disappeared, casting a shadow over her perfect day.
Aleena started after him but had a hard time pushing through the crowd of people congratulating her. Several women and children had gathered and were anxious to touch her and speak with her. She gave up on her chase and focused instead on moving amongst the crowd, talking and sharing herself with them. This was one of the reasons she wanted to be a knight, to share Saint Leander with the people. She would find Durak later and talk to him.
* * * *
Aleena was kneeling in front of an altar to Saint Leander constructed outside Highpeak's walls so that the morning sun could shine upon them. A crowd had gathered to watch Celos be knighted and for Aleena to become a squire. They waited silently, head bowed in prayer. Until the first rays of dawn slipped over the horizon.
One of the priests chanted while Sir Amos waited. When the priest was finished, Amos offered his own chant and drew his sword. He held it high in the air until it began to shine with the divine light it gathered from the sun.
"In the name of Saint Leander, I dub thee Sir Celos Lyonsbane. You are charged with spreading Leander's word through your deeds throughout the land." Sir Amos lowered his glowing blade and touched it to both of Celos's shoulders and then placed the sword in front of Celos so that the tip of the blade touched the ground. Celos leaned forward and put his lips to the crosspiece, completing the ritual. "Rise, Sir Celos Lyonsbane, and take your place among your peers."
Celos rose and stepped back to join the ranks of the other knights. Sir Amos stepped over to stand in front of Aleena. He offered his sword to her the same as he had to Celos. She leaned forward and kissed it, and then felt a pulse of warmth spread through her and drive away the chill from the winter morning.
"Squire Aleena, have you found a knight to further your training?" Sir Amos asked.
Aleena fought to keep her disgust off her face. She'd been so caught up in talking to people and celebrating, she'd completely forgotten to speak to the knights about finding one to pledge herself to. "No, Sir Amos, I have not."
"I have been approached by one who wishes to take you on. It is up to you to decide if you will serve him or seek someone else. You must have a mentor and if you do not find one by the end of the week, you will be returned to the ranks of recruit."
Aleena lifted her eyes to stare at Sir Amos. "Who is the knight?"
"Sir Celos Lyonsbane has offered to continue your training."
Aleena blinked and had to force herself not to turn and look at him. Celos had been her rival, whether he knew it or not. She'd been imagining him all along as her target. Her adversary. Her enemy. He was the one she had to beat in order to achieve what she wanted.
He had to know. The talks they had and the way he brought out the worst in her. She acted like a spoiled brat around him at times, talking back and forgetting her place. She knew better but he went out of his way to draw her out and humiliate her. He knew how to get her going and then he just kept pushing her.
But he told her he did it to make her better. He'd even complimented her. Maybe twice now and maybe they'd been backhanded compliments, but it showed that he had some measure of respect and appreciation for her. Was this offer to be her mentor to help her reach her dreams or was it to make sure she could never be a knight?
Aleena bowed her head again. It didn't matter what his motivations were; now that he'd claimed interest, the other knights would defer to him. Or they would unless she could convince one of them that she would be worth the trouble of going against tradition. The only thing Aleena could think of that she could offer a knight were the types of things more befitting a tavern maid and not a servant of Leander. The knights were supposed to be above such things but she'd heard stories that not all knights held themselves to the same standards.
She knew what she had to do. If his offer was not genuine, it wouldn't matter; she would find a way to succeed. She'd beaten him to become a squire in record time; she would find a way to be a knight whether he helped her or not. "I will put Sir Celos's life before my own and serve him with my last breath."
Sir Amos smiled down at her. "Rise, Squire Aleena, and take your place at your knight's side."
Aleena stood and moved over to stand beside and slightly behind Sir Celos. He ignored her and instead watched while the priest returned to the hastily constructed altar and finished the morning ritual. Aleena recited the prayers but found herself distracted by thoughts and fears of what came next.
One thought came to blow the others away. Where was Alto in all of this? Did he even know what she'd done? Why hadn't he come to see her?
Chapter 19
"Where's Alto?"
Alto roused himself from where he'd nodded off sitting in the corner of the smithy. The warmth from the forge and the rhythmic hammering of steel had combined with his exhaustion until he couldn't fight it anymore. It did little to stop the dreams of Patrina being crucified on a mountaintop while a dark shape with malevolent red eyes crawled out of the darkness toward her.
"Sir, there's someone at the north gate for you. We were told to come and get you," the guard said after stiffening to attention.
"I'm not a noble," Alto mumbled while he digested what the man said. "Why didn't you let them in? Is it a messenger?"
"No, it's, uh, well, it's a monster."
"A monster?" Garrick asked from the sack of charcoal he'd been using as a pillow.
"Yes, like an ogre but green an
d, well, different. He said his name was Thork. I think."
Alto forced himself to his feet as the last fog of sleep burned away. "Take me there," he said.
"I'll go, too. I need some cool air." Garrick climbed to his feet and followed behind Alto, leaving Mordrim to continue working the steel as he tried to beat it back into its raw shape. Kar and Mordrim discovered early on that Patrina's mail shirt had some enchantments worked into it already, which made the process of melting it down more complicated.
Alto glanced at the clear night sky and wondered what time it was. The streets were empty and the lights blown out in the buildings. Even the taverns were dark. Garrick yawned behind him as they hurried through the frigid city.
Alto saw the troll’s outline as he approached the gate. Beside him, he could see the short stature of Bonky. Alto smirked, wondering how well received the colorful goblin would be in the city. With Thork at his side, it was bound to be complicated.
"Ey dere!" Thork waved and called out to him. "Tell dese idjits to let Thork in or Thork's gonna come in Thork's way!"
"Sir?" the guard leading Alto asked.
Alto let the honorific pass. "Yes, open the gate."
"You know him?"
"He's…" Alto paused, not sure what to call Thork at first. "An ally."
The guards stood ready at the gate, hands on their swords while two of them worked the crank to pull the portcullis up. Thork walked in with the mottled brown and white goblin behind him. The goblin hissed and snarled at the guards but stayed close to the troll.
"Bonky, stop dat!" Thork said. He swatted at Bonky but his hand passed over the goblin's head as he ducked. He turned back to Alto. "Trying out some winter disguises on Bonky, what yous fink?"
Alto looked at the goblin again. Bonky sneered back at him and made sure he showed his teeth. "Brown and white so he blends in with the snow and rocks?"
Thork's head bobbed up and down vigorously.
"Looks good," Alto said. "We've started the sword but my smith is still working on making the steel for it."
Thork nodded. "Okies, let's go."
Alto turned and motioned for him to follow. Garrick stared at the troll and shook his head. "You're big," the barbarian muttered.
"Da ladies been talking about Thork again!" He slapped Garrick on the shoulder, staggering the man three steps, and guffawed loud enough to make his laughter echo through the city.
Garrick stared at the troll and shook his head, and then hurried up to catch up to Alto. He turned and caught Alto's eye. Alto smirked. Garrick didn't need to say anything. There was nothing to say when it came to the troll. He was so outrageous words wouldn't do him justice.
When they reached the forge, Thork had to duck and slip through the door sideways to get in. Once inside, he stooped over to keep from hitting his head on the rafters. Mordrim turned to look at him, pausing in his hammering, and then had to look up until he took in all of the troll.
"Saints below," Mordrim muttered. "You've brought a swamp troll in!"
"Mordrim, this is Thork," Alto said. "You've met Kar and Karthor before."
Thork waved at the wizard and his sleepy son before he looked down at Mordrim. "Ey! Yous gots a dorf! Dats good finkin, dem makes some of da bestest weapons!"
"Er, thanks," Mordrim said.
Thork nodded, bumping a rafter and cracking it. He spoke as though he didn't realize he'd cracked his head. "Not much else dorfs good for, dem is tough and stringy!"
Mordrim's eyes and jaw fell open at the troll's suggestion that dwarves were unpleasant to eat. Thork didn't notice; he turned and glared at the beam he'd hit his head against a moment before and pointed his finger at it. "Thork is gonna bash you if yous do dat again!"
"Thork," Alto said, shaking his head. "About this sword?"
Thork spun back around and faced him. "Dat's right, about dat." He glanced into the forge at the red-hot metal that was slowly being reshaped. He frowned. "Yous need lots more heat."
"Isn't it hot enough in here?" Garrick groaned. Sweat was running down his face again.
"Not for melting dat stuff. Yous should have waited. Thork's got fings yous could use."
"I didn't know when you'd get here," Alto said.
Thork shrugged and turned to the wall next to the door. "Dats okies. Thork's here now," the troll said before he jammed the tip of his spear into the wall and then pushed the blade down to the floor. Instead of a jagged gouge left in the wood, a line of white light shone in the wall. He leaned his spear against the wall and then reached out to poke his fingers into the line of light. He pulled it to either side, enlarging the magical radiance and revealing the portal into his warehouse. He leaned into it, poking his head in and looked around, and then emerged a moment later with a bag. "Try dis," Thork said as he dropped the bag on the floor.
Mordrim glanced at Alto and received a nod in return. Alto had a hunch that the bag contained several of the dwarven weapons and armor that he'd let Alto choose from before. When the dwarf opened it and pulled out a couple of books and then a painting, he frowned.
"Um, dat's da wrong bag," Thork said. He stepped forward too fast and cracked his head against the rafter again. The troll growled and turned to stare up at the beam, and then froze when Mordrim gasped.
"What in the name of the saints is this!" The dwarf was looking at one of the books. The pages had pictures drawn in it of men and women with little or no clothing on them. He flipped a page and turned the book upside down, his jaw opening wide.
Alto dropped his eyes from the book in Mordrim's hands to one of the paintings. The subject was a beautiful woman wearing a two-headed snake wrapped around her body and nothing else. "Thork?"
Thork snatched the bag up and grabbed the book from Mordrim's hands. He shoved it in the bag and then picked up the pictures and other books that were lying about. He straightened and held the bag behind his back while everyone stared at him. "Well dis is awkward," the troll mumbled. "Um, Thork collects art and stuff."
"Uh huh," Mordrim said.
Alto shook his head to rid himself of the images. "Thork, the other bag?"
"Yeah, dat one." The troll turned and tossed the bag in his hands back and then started rooting around until he found the right one to get out this time. He dumped it on the floor and let Mordrim dig around inside it.
The dwarf cried out, the contents of the prior bag forgotten as he pulled out dwarven armor and weapons in near perfect condition. "Where did you find these?" Mordrim asked the troll.
"Most of dem is from dat mountain. Dere's some from different places. Couple of dumb dumbs tried bashin Thork a long time ago. Thork took deir stuff when dem got bashed instead."
Mordrim frowned, and then lost himself in the treasures contained in the bag. He kept pulling more and more out, seemingly without a bottom to the bag.
"Mordrim, the forge?" Alto reminded him.
Mordrim grunted and let his eyes come back into focus. He grinned and picked up a short sword. He spent a few moments stripping the wrapping off the hilt before he tossed it into the cauldron of glowing steel. "This will take a while," he warned. "A couple of days. Forges make for poor smelters."
The shaman turned and ducked into his magical space. When he emerged, he held a bucket of rocks and a red vial. "Use dis!"
The dwarf stared into the bucket. "What are these?"
"Fire rocks!"
"And this?" Mordrim took the vial and looked at it.
"Fire wine," Thork said. "Yous wants a taste?"
"I'm supposed to drink it?"
Thork laughed loud as he enjoyed his private joke. When he saw everyone was staring at him, he let his laughter die and explained, "Pour it on da rocks. Let da fire wine soak in a little bit, den toss dem in the forge."
Mordrim frowned but did as the troll instructed. He waited a couple of minutes after pouring the fire wine on the rocks and then dumped the rocks amongst the coals in the forge.
Thork stared at them while the black lumps sat amid
the red, orange, yellow, and white coals. He frowned and looked up at Kar. "Yous got any fire mojo?"
Kar sniffed. "I always have fire spells ready."
"Great! Use one!" the troll said. "Dem has to get really hot to burn."
Kar stepped up to the forge and squinted against the heat coming off it. He raised his hands and chanted, and then held out his hands and summoned a magical burst of flames that slammed into the forge and rolled around inside the oven. He sustained the burst for several seconds and then stepped back and raised his arm to block the heat from his face.
Garrick cursed at the increase of heat in the room. He moved as far from the forge as he could without leaving the room. Alto stood still but understood the barbarian's misery. Sweat was running down the warrior's face. Karthor and his father moved away a moment later, leaving only Mordrim and Thork near the forge. Bonky had disappeared.
The flames from Kar's spell continued to circle around the forge and then they were pulled into the fire rocks. The elemental rocks began to change colors, brightening to brown and then red. They continued becoming brighter until each of them was white hot and putting out enough heat that the air in the room seemed ready to burst into fire.
Garrick was the first to throw open the door and stumble out into the cold night air. The others followed one at a time, gasping for breath. Alto stayed the longest, save for Thork and Mordrim but he found that he couldn't breathe; the air felt too thin. It reminded him of the lava flow beneath the mountain.
"Frogger balls," Thork muttered. "Dat bucket is gonna melt. Use da bucket da fire rocks was in!" Thork told the dwarf. The troll went on to mutter, "Maybe all of dem wasn't so good."
Mordrim managed to transfer the partially melted steel over before he had to escape the room. The thick gloves he'd put on were smoking and the hairs on his beard looked singed and curled. "Never thought I'd see the day a forge was too hot for a dwarf," he complained.
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