Child of Fate

by Jason Halstead

  “Kelgryn!” Gerald cried out. He held up the business end of a broken spear.

  “The Kelgryn aren’t the only ones to use spears,” Tristam snapped.

  “Aye, but they’re the only ones that decorate their weapons like this.” Gerald walked across the ground and thrust the partial weapon up to Tristam.

  The leader of the Blades of Leander took the offering and studied it. Carvings of bears, wolves, and even a troll had been etched into the wooden shaft. “Don’t see any Kelgryn corpses. Does anyone else?”

  Alto glanced about, not entirely sure what a Kelgryn looked like. “Tall, with blond and light colored hair and blue eyes. Strong and sturdy; perhaps you’ve some Kelgryn blood in you?” Kar said in a hush to him.

  Alto jumped at how easily Kar had moved to his side without him realizing it. “You think Kelgryn people did this, and then rode out past us in their wagons?”

  “Seems fitting, aye?” Kar watched Alto struggle with the thought for a moment. “But no, lad, this isn’t the sort of thing they’ve done. They’re not cowardly but they seldom shed much blood when they raid. They stick to the coast and sea. Hunters may travel inland, or a war party if they seek vengeance.”

  “Vengeance?”

  “Aye, they’ve been known to strike back against the trolls, giants, and even dwarves in the mountains.”

  “Stories, wizard,” Tristam growled.

  “Of course they’re stories!” Kar exclaimed. “Where do you think stories come from—daydreaming by fanciful young men that don’t know the proper value of drinking and wenching?”

  “There are dwarves in the Northern Divide?” Alto gasped. He’d heard of dwarves—who hadn’t? But he’d never seen one.

  “Ages past, lad,” Kar said. “Goblins and worse drove them out.”

  “We’re wasting time,” Tristam grumbled. “Alto, Kar, stay with the horses. The rest of you with me; let’s see what’s left.”

  “The horses?” Alto muttered after the others had begun to dismount. He dismounted Sebas and led him to the mostly intact stable inside the gate. One at a time, he gathered the other horses and tied their reins to the stable, and then wandered inside to find some hay and buckets of water for them.

  “You make a good stable boy,” Kar observed after the others had walked into the ruined city. Alto bit back on his words but his scowl made the wizard laugh. “Don’t worry, lad, they’ve good reason to leave the horses guarded. Might be you’ll see more adventure than they do this night!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Kar nodded to the open gate. “Wolves, boy! Those eyes we saw weren’t bunnies hopping through the fields! There’s wolves and probably worse out there.”

  “Worse?” Alto’s eyes went to the gate and the darkness beyond. He’d seen wolves before. He’d even helped his father drive a pack of them off one time with his bow, but this was night and his bow was useless in the dark.

  “Yes, my young squire, worse. The goblins may or may not have their filthy hands in this, but they do thrive in these mountains.”

  “Why would goblins want our horses?”

  “Horseflesh is a delicacy to them.” Kar took out his pipe, sniffed the air and put it away. “There are worse creatures than goblins in the mountains, though. Everything you can imagine, I dare say. Ogres, trolls, giants, birds that make Blackwing look like a sparrow, and many a creature I’ve forgotten to mention.”

  “Do you smell something?” Alto asked at the wizard’s awkward habit of sniffing.

  “Bah, I don’t want to hear Tristam hound me when he returns for lighting my pipe and giving my position away, that’s all. The man’s worse than a woman at times!”

  Alto covered his mouth to help stifle his chuckle. “He’s got our best interests in mind,” he suggested.

  “Yes, he probably does,” Kar said with a wink. “But don’t make the mistake of thinking you can trust or follow anyone who claims they’re doing the right thing without thinking it through.”

  Kar turned to his mount and pulled a book out of one of his packs, ignoring Alto. Alto stared at him, closing his lips after he mouthed the words the wizard had just passed on to him. They sounded like something his father would have said. He smiled and turned away. One of the wolves outside growled and then barked. Reminded of the closeness of savagery, Alto hurried over to the main gate and peered out, hand on the hilt of his sword.

  The light of his torch scattered the scavengers, though not before he caught sight of a large wolf running away with what may have been part of an arm. Alto drew his sword and stared into the darkness where baleful yellow eyes stared back at him. Kar muttered something behind him that he ignored.

  Alto waited in the gateway, occasionally taking a threatening step forward and swinging his torch when he felt a wolf was venturing too close. Alto’s senses dulled over time from the drain constant vigilance demanded of him. A yellow pair of eyes loomed out of the darkness, startling him out of the daze he’d drifted into. He swung the torch out of instinct and caused the failing flames to blow out.

  Alto stared at his torch in the faint light that filtered out from inside Highpeak. The pitch-soaked material at the end had been consumed and little but the wooden stave remained. A low rumble brought his attention back to the wolf.

  Alto retreated, swinging the torch and sword in front of him. “Kar!” he hissed, fearful of attracting the attention of goblins or the scarier monster Kar had spoken of. The wizard didn’t respond. Alto risked a glance but saw nothing through the gate. His shield and other torches were on Sebas, but the horse was a dozen feet away through the broken gate. Another growl reminded him that turning his back would be a bad idea.

  Alto thought back to the advice he’d been given. He’d been sparring against straw dummies and people, not animals. With his bow, he knew to aim for a lung or the heart, but face to face against a wolf, the animal wasn’t likely to turn broadside to him and wait to be run through.

  “I’m bigger than you,” Alto muttered to himself. It was true, and something his father had often used to remind him or any of his brothers and sisters when something scared them. They were bigger than the spiders, mice, protective hens, and other animals found about the farm. Alto was bigger than the wolf and he was armed. It was the wolf and the countless others waiting in the darkness to spring on him that should be afraid.

  Alto scowled. Kar had said that the role of the defender wasn’t for him. If he could get rid of the wolf, he’d buy himself time enough to retrieve another torch. Maybe even enough time to light it. Alto threw his burnt-out torch at the wolf and charged after it.

  The wolf sprung to the side and snapped at the night air. Alto turned to face it but he was off balance. He tried to bring his sword around before the wolf crashed into him and snapped at his throat. He didn’t make it.

  Hot, charnel breath blasted Alto in the face as the wolf’s jaws snapped on empty air. He dropped his sword and tried to throw the wolf away, but even his strength couldn’t dislodge the beast. Only the wolf’s leg getting trapped between his as they fell kept the creature from securing a death hold on him.

  Alto found the pommel of his sword with his elbow. It numbed his arm but gave him hope. He rolled, the wolf pushing him, and managed to yank his left arm free so he could swing it back at the wolf and try to drive it away. It worked, for a moment, but after the wolf brushed the arm aside, it lunged forward to end the fight.

  He rolled into it, punching the scavenger in the base of its throat and making it let out a breathy yelp. Alto wrapped his left arm around its neck and head and yanked it over him, pulling it off balance and using his own body to trip it. He rolled on top of it and lost his grip as its sharp claws stabbed into his leather in an attempt to get away from him. The wolf jerked and stiffened, and then tried to cry out in whimpers that came out in bloody hisses.

  Alto jerked his sword free from its side and rolled away from it. He stood up, staggering until he reclaimed his balance. Gasping for b
reath, the farm-boy-turned-wolf-slayer stared into the darkness. The other wolves’ eyes had moved closer in the darkness, some so close he could make out four-legged forms stalking back and forth.

  Alto snarled at them and grabbed up the still dying wolf at his feet. He hacked three times until its head came free, and then he brandished it and threw it at the first wolf he saw. The wolf bolted away rather than be struck by the fleshy missile. Moments later the others retreated, a nearby howl signaling them. Other howls followed but the wolves kept their distance.

  “Well done, lad.”

  Alto spun when he heard Kar’s voice. He clamped his mouth shut instead of shouting at the wizard. Kar wasn’t alone; the rest of the Blades of Leander had gathered to watch.

  “You can train day and night to fight a man and still not be ready when the time comes,” Tristam said. “But an animal, and a wolf at that, is something you’ll never know the fear of until you’ve faced one.”

  Alto glanced down at the headless corpse. He looked back up at the others, expecting a smile or a laugh but they regarded him with solemn expressions. “Just had to remind myself I’m bigger than he was,” Alto said.

  Now Tristam and the others laughed. “You’re bigger than all of us!” Tristam said. “Don’t be getting no ideas!”

  Alto blushed and then joined in since he knew they weren’t mocking him. “Should we skin it and save the meat?”

  Tristam sneered. “If you want, but there’s no call for it. We’ve cloaks a plenty and a week of rations, more if we’re careful.”

  Alto nodded. On the farm, they’d have taken everything they could from it against the possible need in the future. He wasn’t fending for a family that barely eked out an existence anymore. Alto nodded, and then knelt down beside it and drew out his knife. As he skinned the wolf, he had to bite back a laugh. If he’d remembered his knife, he might have saved fumbling about for his sword and some of the wrestling with the wolf.

  “Who punches a wolf?” he muttered to himself.

  “A man without any other options,” Karthor said. The priest squatted down and took hold of the animal’s legs to help in the skinning. “Why do you do this?”

  “It’s a good pelt, other than the cut in its side. Perhaps some good can come of it.”

  “A fine first kill, it’d make a good trophy,” Gerald opined. “Pity you tossed the head out there; it’s already been taken and eaten.”

  “Perhaps,” Alto said in response. He had no need of a trophy; he had no place of his own to keep it. Hides could serve many purposes, from leather to blankets and more. He might not need it but he’d seen many people in Monterose and even Portland that might be thankful for such a thing to provide some warmth. Alto pushed the thoughts aside as he finished cutting it free from the carcass. “What of the city?”

  “Seems abandoned,” William shared. “The mines have been caved in and most of the buildings not built of stone burnt.”

  “And the ones built of stone don’t fare much better!” Gerald added.

  “It’s been looted, but only the best pickings are gone.”

  “Best pickings?” Alto scraped the extra flesh from the hide.

  “Coins, jewelry, and the like. Also any of the silver ore and dust has been taken,” Drefan explained when William and Gerald looked to him.

  “What else is there?”

  “Fine clothing, artwork, candelabras, statues, and other finery. There’s all manner of things that can be valuable, if you’ve got the right buyer,” Drefan explained.

  Alto raised his eyebrow. “You don’t strike me as a merchant to know such things.”

  Drefan grinned and Gerald belted out a laugh.

  “I saved Drefan’s neck from a hangman’s noose a while back. He wasn’t much older than you,” Tristam said. “Showed him there’s better ways to use his hands than risk getting his fingers broken.”

  Drefan shrugged and held up his hands to prove he still had all his fingers.

  “Kelgryn wouldn’t steal silver ore,” Kar grunted. “They’d take women, sure, and food and good horses to boot. Burning and slaughter for the sake of loot? That’s not what they do.”

  “Have you spent time amongst them lately, wizard?”

  Kar turned to look at Tristam. “It’s been a few years, but I’ve visited.”

  Karthor’s brow furrowed as he looked at his father. Kar saw him and rolled his eyes. “Quite a few years.”

  Alto stared at Kar and Karthor in confusion. The wizard looked to be near his own father’s age. There would be time enough, he supposed, for Kar to have done as he said but he’d have been near to Alto’s age or younger.

  “Stop looking at me like that, boy; wizards age different,” he grumbled.

  Alto caught a smirk from Karthor as he averted his gaze. He rolled up the hide and retreated into the stable. The others followed, moving to their mounts so Alto could store the pelt and be ready for what was to come next. “So what’s next?”

  Tristam moved to his own steed and began to rifle through a pack. “We visit the mines.”

  “I thought you said they were caved in?”

  “Aye, but that’s just the ones here. There are mines in the mountains as well. Better mines that haven’t been played out, from what I’ve heard,” Drefan explained.

  “We’ll make camp here. William picked a good house that won’t fall down on us. Gives us a good defense should the wolves want more than what’s been given to them.”

  “We’re sleeping here?”

  “In shifts. You’ll take the last watch,” Tristam said with a grin. Alto knew the source of his humor: the last watch was always the worst. He’d be tired and from what he’d been told, right before dawn was when bad things happened.

  Chapter 5

  Alto blinked in grateful surprise when the first rays of the morning sun crested Highpeak’s eastern wall. There’d been no attacks on his watch, but when Gerald had woken him for his turn, the warrior had warned him of the noises the scavengers made. Alto had sat as still and quiet as he could, listening to the sounds of wolves and other things in the night. Once he’d even heard what sounded like a couple of people talking, but he wasn’t close enough to be sure.

  With the breaking dawn, the noises receded into silence. Alto rose up and stretched away the chill of the night. One of the horses whinnied, letting them know it was ready for breakfast. Alto saw Tristam and Karthor rising while the others slept. He nodded to them as he made his way to the staircase that led down to what had once been a smithy. The horses pawed the ground and whickered when they saw Alto approach.

  He gave the horses grain and poured them water from skins, talking softly out of habit. When he’d finished, he opened the shutters and doors to let in some air, only to wrinkle his nose as the smells of a burnt and rotting city overrode the smell of horses. Making a retching noise, he climbed back up the stairs to find the others nearly ready.

  “I gave the horses a handful of grain, but they could do with some hay or grass,” Alto said to announce his return. “The stables at the gate have plenty, if it hasn’t been stolen overnight.”

  “We’re not going that way,” Tristam said.

  “The mines, right? Where are they?”

  “Norf,” Kar mumbled. He finished rubbing his finger against his teeth and spat it out, and then took a pull from a skin of water and spat that as well. “Take care of your teeth, boy. Good teeth are a blessing,” the wizard said. “Ask our friend Gerald there!”

  Gerald displayed his broken-toothed grin and then bit his thumb at Kar for good measure. The wizard laughed. “I’ve the perfect mix of salt and char. Tastes wretched but leaves your teeth strong as steel!”

  Alto grimaced at the thought of it.

  “Kar’s right. We head out the north gate,” Tristam said. “I remember a stable there, too, and the northern side of the city is in better shape.”

  “Here,” William said, tossing Alto a chunk torn off a loaf of bread. “Eat up, lad; we’re in fo
r a hard day.”

  Alto bit into it and chewed it down before asking, “What’s to be hard?”

  “Travel through the mountains is never simple. Sounds travel funny and rocks may give and come crashing down at any time,” William said.

  Gerald chuckled. “That’s not counting the rocks thrown by giants and ogres.”

  “Ogres don’t throw boulders,” Kar snapped. “Small rocks, maybe, but they prefer to smash you with their clubs.”

  “Aye, clubs that was once the trunks of trees!” Gerald added.

  Kar rolled his eyes at the man’s boasting.

  Alto stared back and forth between them. “So falling rocks, echoing sounds, monsters—what else is there?”

  “The mines themselves,” Tristam said. He wiped his sword clean after running a stone over it and sheathed it. “Enough scaring the boy; let’s be off. We earn no bounty sitting and jawing like old women!”

  “What’s wrong with the mines?” Alto asked Karthor as the others rose and filed past.

  “Cramped, dark, and sometimes foul. If the mines have been overrun by gobs, then the runts will be dug in. We’ll have a harder time digging them out,” he said.

  “At least we’d be able to collect our bounty,” Alto reasoned.

  “Aye, if we make it back.”

  Alto frowned but chose not to respond to the dark words spoken by the priest. He followed them down the stairs and began saddling Sebas. He finished before the others and helped where he could, and then led his horse onto the cobblestone road of the city.

  In daylight, the sight of the pillaging was worse than he’d imagined. Signs and tabards were burnt and shredded. Doors and windows were smashed in. Entire buildings, in many cases, had been burned to the ground. Stains on the ground showed where people had fallen or been dragged away.

  “Need a good thunderstorm to clean this away,” Kar muttered.

  “Not going to argue that,” Tristam agreed, “but I’d just as soon it waited until we’re done with our business.”

  “Why?” Alto wondered aloud.

  “All the reasons you don’t want to go into the mountains?” Drefan reminded him. Alto nodded at the recent memory. “Well, they get a lot worse when it’s raining. Falling rocks become landslides. Creatures are forced out of flooded dens. And the water falling from the sky adds to the water running off the rocks, flash flooding the passes.”