Child of Fate (27 page)

“Should I get him?” Namitus called out. He’d
started after Fizzulthorp and then stopped.

Tristam ignored the rogue. The leader of the
Blades threw his shoulder into the ogre standing over William. The
blow made the ogre grunt but did little to stagger him. Tristam
rebounded and jabbed out with his sword. The hides and the thick
muscle covering the ogre’s abdomen stopped his strike. The ogre
swung the flaring torch and barely missed Tristam’s head as he
ducked low and stepped back.

“Let him go,” Alto called to Namitus. He ran
to the ogre’s flank and slashed with his sword, hewing so deeply
into the creature’s thigh that he felt the bone sunder. The ogre
crashed to the ground, nearly yanking Alto’s blade from him.

Tristam lunged back in, piercing the fallen
ogre’s throat with his sword. He stepped back and turned to see
that Karthor had smothered the flames and was pulling the shaken
William away.

The crossbowman rose up and grimaced, and
then pushed the priest away. “I’ll be fine; it’s just bruised,” he
said to the man.

Other cries had gone up in the castle. Lights
could be seen in windows and buildings and somewhere an alarm bell
started to ring.

“I’m going to kill him,” Tristam growled.

“Do it later,” Kar advised.

“What do we do?” Alto asked. He spun slowly,
watching for the expected horde of monsters to appear.

“We find Barador and end this!” Tristam
said.

“What about the army? They’re not attacking!
Somebody needs to alert them and let them through the gate,”
Namitus said.

Tristam nodded. “Think you can manage
it?”

“I’ll go with him,” Kar offered.

“Don’t you think we’ll need you?”

Kar shrugged. “Probably, but what good will
striking the head of the snake be if the body is already wrapped
around us?”

“Go!” Tristam snarled. He started off toward
the western portions of the castle. “The rest of you with me.”

They ran into a small group of goblins
immediately. Tristam cut into them while Alto protected the
warrior’s left flank. Karthor formed the right wing of the wedge
and gave William room as he trailed in the center with his crossbow
reloaded to fire. The small group of six goblins fell before
William could get one safely in his sights.

Tristam pointed to his left and led them into
the burnt shell of a building. They waited inside while a mixed
group of trolls and goblins came running down the road from around
a corner. The short-legged minions ran past them, none the
wiser.

“We can’t hide here all night,” Karthor
said.

Tristam nodded. “We need to reach the palace;
he’ll be there, enjoying finery he doesn’t deserve.”

“What if we can’t?” William said. “I’m still
seeing stars. I don’t fancy being hit by one of them with a proper
weapon.”

Tristam nodded. “We’re this far in—we’ve got
to try. If we can’t, we lie low and wait for the Kingdom army to
attack.”

Alto frowned. “What if Fizzulthorp was right?
What if they can’t take it back? Barador has threatened the Kingdom
and the Kelgryn. If we can’t stop them, worse is bound to
happen.”

Alto felt his hand throb where he held the
sword. He raised it and stared at it, wondering if he’d hurt
himself without realizing it. His hand looked and felt fine but his
blade was different. The black pearls in the hilt had possessed a
glamorous shine to them before. Even with the lack of torchlight,
they seemed different now, deeper and darker.

“What is it?” Karthor asked, noticing Alto’s
sudden focus.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I think this sword
did something. I felt it throb in my hand and it looks different to
me.”

“It did a fine job of cutting through the
ogre and goblins,” Tristam said.

“What about what I said, losing Highpeak?”
Alto asked.

Tristam nodded. “We’ll try, lad. We’ll
try.”

“When?”

William sighed and Tristam chuckled. “Now, I
suppose; the longer we wait, the more time they have to arrange
defenses or find us.”

Tristam led them through a burnt-out section
into an alley. They moved slowly, pausing often to avoid the
increased patrols that were scouring every building and road. Their
luck ran out before they’d made it more than three blocks through
the city. A group of ogres and trolls were kicking doors in and
searching the buildings. Goblins were coming from the other
direction down the road. The goblins spotted them in the darkness.
They cried out and drew the attention of the larger monsters.

“Fall back?” William asked as the creatures
bore down on them.

“If we retreat, we’ll be cornered and beaten
down.” Tristam shook his head. “Take it to them!”

Alto broke from cover and charged out, taking
Tristam’s words to heart. William swore and scrambled to dip his
quills into the ointment that Thork had given him. Tristam echoed
William’s curse and ran out after the former farm boy, only to find
that Karthor was a step ahead of him.

The trolls and ogres paid no mind to defense.
Certain they were unstoppable, they focused only on lashing out at
Alto as he ran between them. Alto struck first, thrusting the wide
point of his sword into the chest of an ogre and then spinning and
ripping the blade free, only to slam it into the belly of a troll.
He pulled the blade with him as he stepped past the first two
creatures and left the troll lying on the ground, trying to
understand why his innards had become outards.

Karthor and Tristam circled the fallen
creatures and lashed out at the backs of the remaining two ogres
and three trolls that were circling around Alto. They’d seen what
Alto could do and focused their attention on dealing with him. Alto
turned in their midst, raising and lowering his sword and varying
the angle so the movement of his weapon stayed constant and gave
the creatures another point to focus on. Tristam had taught him to
remain active and mobile to confuse his enemies. It worked
especially well against foes that had slow wits like trolls and
ogres.

Karthor’s mace cracked against a distracted
ogre’s back, just above the loincloth it wore. It grunted and
turned, sweeping across with a club that Karthor barely ducked
under. Tristam drove his sword toward the back of a troll, only to
have the troll twist at the last moment and lunge along its side.
The combination of his momentum and the natural armor of his skin
prevented more than a scratch from being delivered.

Alto lunged toward the other ogre. He raised
his shield to take the descending club on it. The force of the
impact drove his left knee into the ground and made his arm
tremble. Already lower than he’d planned, Alto leaned forward and
forced the tip of his blade into the inside thigh of the ogre. He
pulled back before he risked being extended too far or too long.
The ogre hopped back and clamped a hand to his injury, howling from
the pain.

Alto staggered from the jagged claws of a
troll on his back. His armor spared him from a broken spine but he
was forced to work hard to keep his feet under him. If he survived,
he knew he could worry about catching his breath. Another troll
swung over his head, surprised by his staggering footwork that
allowed him to keep his balance. Alto slashed blindly with his
sword and was rewarded with a spray of blood and the sight of the
troll’s arm twitching when it hit the ground.

Alto backed away from the howling troll and
cut through two fingers of the one that had staggered him. He took
another strike off his shield and jammed his sword deep into the
troll’s belly. He yanked it free and spun toward the wounded ogre.
He limped back, trying to escape, but Alto disabled him with
another strike to his good leg and then a finishing blow as he lay
on the ground.

When he turned back, he was breathing hard
and sweating in the cool mountain air. His back ached but he could
still move. The other troll ran off, clutching the stump of his
arm. Karthor was fighting back against the ogre that he’d
distracted and Tristam was busy dodging the remaining troll’s
strikes. Behind them, he could see a trail of two dead goblins
lying in the road and a third at the entrance to the alley they’d
taken. William emerged from it, sheathing his sword and clutching a
red stain on his hip.

Alto dispatched the ogre fighting Karthor
first with a powerful overhead attack that cleaved him nearly in
two. He turned to the distracted troll and jammed his blade through
his side until it came out the rib cage on the opposite side. When
he pulled it free, he stood there grinning.

“That wasn’t what I meant when I said take it
to them!” Tristan said between gasps. His eyes fell on Alto’s blade
and he mumbled a fresh curse. “Saints above and below, look at that
sword!”

Alto followed his eyes to his blade. He
lifted it up and saw the black fuller near the tip of the blade had
a dull red glow to it. It looked as if the black lines he’d taken
to be ornamental in the crosspiece also had a reddish tint to
them.e

“What happens when the red reaches the
pearl?” Karthor asked.

Alto stared at it and wondered the same
thing. The red glow was nearly a third of the way down the blade.
“It cuts like a knife through warm butter,” Alto admitted with a
grin. “Even the trolls.”

“First time I ever wished I was better with a
broadsword,” Tristam admitted. “Bet you’re not so eager to give it
back to the Kelgryn now, are you?”

Alto blushed. “We should move.”

“Let me tend to William and Tristam first.
You looked like you had the breath knocked out of you, too,”
Karthor said.

“I’ll be fine,” Alto insisted.

“Let’s get off the road first,” Tristam
said.

William limped along with them. The best they
could find was a sheltered archway of a ruined stone house. The
ceiling had caved in and blocked the building. Karthor soothed
their hurts and mended the flesh in William’s hip. The archer had
trouble moving without limping, but Karthor assured him he wouldn’t
be crippled.

“We’re nearly there,” Tristam said. “The
palace is one street over.”

“We’re going for it?” William asked. “I’ll
help if we do. I’m just saying these creatures aren’t like anything
else we’ve fought before.”

“We’ve fought these things before,” Karthor
pointed out.

“Aye, one or two at a time, not like the
patrols here!”

“I’ll finish it,” Alto said, not caring about
the odds. “To the end.”

“Easy for you—with that sword you’re
unstoppable!”

Alto stared at William, open-mouthed. He
yanked it free of his scabbard and thrust it toward his companion.
“Here, you take it. The sword has nothing to do with it!”

“That’s enough,” Tristam snapped. “Keep that
sword; you’re the only one any good with it.”

William nodded in agreement, though his eyes
stayed on the blade for a long time. Alto lowered it but did not
return it to its scabbard.

“Let’s go, and don’t forget the potions the
troll gave us,” Tristam said.

He led the way out of the ruined house. They
rounded a corner and found themselves facing a group of eight ogres
wearing mismatched scraps of leather and chain armor. Alto raised
his sword and charged before the shock of the sudden meeting wore
off.

“Here we go again,” Tristam muttered as he
raced to catch up to the young warrior.

“Hold up a moment,” Kar advised the younger
man.

Namitus glanced at the wizard and nodded.
They moved closer to the gatehouse while Tristam led Alto and the
others off toward the palace. Namitus heard the sounds of fighting
and started to go after them when Kar’s hand rested on his
shoulder.

“They’re an able lot,” he said. “If they
can’t handle what they face, what hopes would you have to aid
them?”

“I’m a better fighter than I look,” Namitus
growled.

Kar smiled. “I saw you face trolls and
escape; I believe you. What matters to us is that we use this
diversion to make our way to the gate.”

“Do you have an idea how we’re to do
this?”

Kar’s smile stretched into a grin. “I’m a
wizard. With enough time and energy, I can do almost anything!”

“Why am I needed then?”

“I’ll need you to buy me the time,” he
admitted.

Namitus chuckled. “Well, then, mighty wizard,
we’d best be off before our time runs short.”

Namitus led the way out of the gatehouse and
along the eastern wall. Kar stopped him after they’d passed a few
roads. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“No, but if they went to the west, I figure
if we follow the eastern wall we’re bound to reach it.”

Kar stared at him and shook his head. “This
is the sort of thing that would drive a lesser man to drink,” he
muttered. To Namitus he hissed, “The gate is along the southern
wall. We’re at the northern gate. Heading at a ninety degree angle
is not the shortest distance between the two points.”

Namitus blinked in confusion. He was about to
respond and admit as much when he spotted a moving torch casting a
flicker of light against the walls of the buildings ahead of them.
He turned and tracked the source of the light, a torch in the hand
of someone atop the northern wall. “Hug the wall!” Namitus hissed
before slipping against it himself.

Kar obliged the rogue and they waited while
the light came closer. The sound of a new bell ringing in the
distance caused the figure to stop. A moment later, the guard with
the torch rushed along the wall above them. They were passed by in
the night.

“The hourglass has flipped,” Kar
observed.

Namitus stared at him. He nodded after a
moment. “Right, south then.”

The rogue left the northern wall behind and
entered the back door of a single story building that was still
largely intact. It was a small house with a central room used for
gathering, cooking, and dining. Two smaller rooms served as
bedrooms. All three were occupied, though the six goblin occupants
scattered about the main room slept on. From the sounds coming from
the bedrooms, their occupants sounded far larger and more
dangerous.