Victim of Fate (30 page)

"Lass, that mail of yours is going to fall
off and trip you up; there’s sure to be something here to wear,"
Mordrim said to Patrina.

Trina glanced down and frowned. "This was
Alto’s," she said.

He nodded. "Aye, it was, but it’s not right
for you. I’m a dwarf—I know armor."

"But…" She hesitated and turned until she saw
a sympathetic Namitus looking at her from nearby. "I can smell him
on it," she breathed.

"Keep the shirt then," Namitus
recommended.

Trina dropped her face to her chest and
inhaled. She nodded, her cheeks rosy, and pulled Alto’s hauberk
off. Mordrim handed her a replacement that she slipped on. It was
still a little big for her but as she adjusted the mail it seemed
to snug up on her. It fell barely past her hips, but the dwarf had
some greaves for her to strap on as well that protected her lower
legs.

"What about you?" Mordrim asked Namitus.

Namitus held up a long knife he’d found,
complete with a sapphire set in the hilt. He traded it for the
dagger at his hip and continued to search through the stolen
items.

"The way out’s back there." Mordrim pointed
through the tunnel they’d fought through.

"There are other tunnels back here," Kar
said. The wizard gestured and the wisps of light flew through the
air to streak into smaller caves scattered around the room. At
three of the entrances, the lights chased away gnomish shadows.
"Might one of them lead us out?"

"Don’t think we can take a few gnomes?"
Mordrim asked. He bent down and picked up a shield and banged his
hammer against it.

"A few easily enough," Kar agreed. "But what
you seem to be forgetting is that there were gnomes enough to rout
your ancestors and they’ve had generations to grow and expand
since."

Mordrim scowled and turned to look at the
main entrance to the throne room.

"The wizard’s right," Tristam said.

"The forges are back that way," Patrina
whispered.

"What’s that?" Tristam and Mordrim turned to
face her.

"The forges. Alto said we had to stop the
forges."

"Alto’s gone," Tristam reminded her. "And
there’s no way we can fight gnomes, goblins, trolls, ogres, and men
alike to do a damn thing to those forges!"

"I know he’s gone!" she hissed at him. "But
he stood for something."

"He stood for getting your royal arse out of
this mountain and back safe where you belong!"

Patrina’s hand flew to her sword and she drew
it. "I belong where I say I belong," she snarled, pointing the
blade at Tristam.

Garrick snickered from the side. She turned
on him, her sword not wavering as it pointed at him. "You keep
laughing and I’ll gut you for your insolence!"

He held up his hands but the grin never left
his face.

"Rescued you twice now and you’re making me
regret it both times," Tristam told her. "We’re to be heading out
for a safe place. If you want to go charging back into the thick of
it, you go right ahead."

"Trina," Namitus warned.

Patrina’s sword wavered, the tip shaking a
little. Finally, she lowered it and let loose a cry of frustration
that was nearly a sob. She turned and saw Mordrim standing next to
her. He held out a long sword, hilt first.

"Lady Patrina, it won’t replace your friend
but take this as my gift to you for your kindness and valor." The
blade he held had several small emeralds imbedded into the cross
guard.

Patrina shifted her sword into her left hand
and then took the weapon from him in her right. She stared past the
craftsmanship of the hilt and sighted in the blade. It bore no
nicks or scratches and looked as if it had been freshly sharpened.
Her eyes went to the hilt and she nodded. "It’s a fine blade."

"No match for you, lady," Mordrim
continued.

Garrick coughed behind Patrina but she let
his impropriety pass without comment.

"Take the damn blade, princess, we’ve got to
be out of here!" Tristam hissed.

Patrina closed her eyes and nodded. She slid
the new sword into her scabbard and then tossed the other one into
the freshly disturbed piles of armaments. "Mordrim, do you think it
might be possible to take one of these tunnels and find a way
out?"

"I only know the ones my ancestors built," he
said. "It’s possible they might lead us out; these tunnels was made
by gnomes or by nature."

"Make your best guess and lead us then,"
Patrina said.

"This is my company and my rules, princess,"
Tristam rebuked her. "I’m the one giving the orders!"

Patrina turned on him and said in a voice
forced in calmness, "If you’ve a better order to give, then do so.
Otherwise I was hoping to save us time and allow us to escape. If
we can’t stop the evil that is in this mountain, then the only
thing important to our lives is escaping and bringing word of it to
those who can do something."

Tristam’s eyes narrowed. "Important to your
life, perhaps. And wasn’t your father in here already?"

"For all I know my father is dead," she spat
at him. "Now be silent unless you’ve something useful to add!"

Garrick laughed yet again at the open
dissension between the two.

As one, both Tristam and Patrina turned to
the barbarian and all but shouted, "What?"

He stared at Tristam and said, "For all your
civilized manners, you’ve no idea how to keep a woman in her
place."

"Keep me in my place?" Patrina’s voice was
barely more than a whisper with outrage.

Garrick walked up to her and leered at her.
When she refused to back down, he leaned in and, before she could
react, he crushed her to him and kissed her hard on the lips.
Patrina gasped and stiffened in his grasp, and then started
punching and pushing at him until he let her go. She stared at him,
mouth open and gasping.

"That’s how you shut a woman up," Garrick
said to Tristam.

"You’re lucky you didn’t lose your lips and
tongue," Tristam responded.

Patrina stared at them both, unable or
unwilling to say anything.

"This way then, if you’re done fooling
about," Mordrim reminded them. He gestured towards a tunnel that
appeared empty of any gnomish surprises and started towards it.
Patrina glared at Garrick one final time and then turned and
followed the dwarf. The others hurried along, glancing at one
another in amazement.

"Okies, yous know what yous gots to do. Thork
is gonna go and watch da show!"

Alto looked at the small dwarven chest he
held. "I drop this in a river of molten rock and run?"

Thork grinned and nodded.

"And how’s that going to do anything other
than make this melt, too?"

"Da potion inside, stupid!" Thork said. He
shook his head and sighed. "Da mojo in dat will make a big boom
when da lava hits it. If dat don’t shake dis place up, da pressure
is gonna build an build till it pops like a baby frogger dats been
squeezed too much!"

Alto grimaced at the visualization of a frog
that’d been squeezed to the point of bursting. "Okay, um, where’s
this molten rock at?"

"Lava, you idjit, it’s called lava!" Thork
looked over to Bonky and rolled his eyes. "Just keep going down
till yous find it. Try dat tunnel over der."

Alto followed Thork’s pointed finger to a
cave he hadn’t even looked into yet. "And how do I get out of
here?"

"Dats not so easy," the shaman admitted.
"Keep going up. Yous made it dis far, right? Yous can make it da
rest of da way!"

Alto nodded. He could do it. He had no idea
how but he’d have to figure that out on the way. "Uh, Thork? I
appreciate all this help a lot, I really do. But I can’t see in the
dark. That eel almost had me and there are probably a lot worse
things down here than that."

"Yep, der is. Just bonk yous shield."

"Bonk my shield?" Alto turned the shield he
held and stared at the image of the mountain with the crown over
it.

Thork picked up his own shield and spear and
struck the green glowing tip of his spear against his shield. "Like
dat!"

"With my sword?"

Thork shook his head. "No stupid, with yous
hand. If yous sword did da trick den every stupid dat hit it would
light it up."

"Light it up?" Alto echoed for his own
understanding. He slipped his hand and arm back into the shield’s
straps and then tapped his right hand to it. A golden burst of
light erupted from the front of it, sending light in front of him
in an arc that rivaled a torch. He gasped and turned back to the
troll, only to see the large green creature gathering up his
supplies and shoving bag after bag into a glowing rift in the wall
of the cave.

Thork turned back to face him and grinned.
"Dis is da Trolwerkz warehouse!"

Alto gazed in wonder. The glowing rift
rivaled the light his shield put out but he thought he could see
shapes in the magical doorway. "You’ve been here before?" Alto
asked the shaman.

"Nope, dis da first. Da last too, if yous
gets lucky. Dis goes with Thork, wherever Thork is at him can open
it up," the troll said. Thork turned to look at Alto and grinned at
the man’s impersonation of a fish gasping for air. "Dis powerful
mojo."

Alto nodded and clamped his mouth shut. Kar’s
spells amazed him with their power and ability, such as when he’d
devastated the gate to Highpeak to allow the Kingdom’s soldiers
access. He had a feeling that Thork was on an entirely different
level, though.

"Get goin, dat dorf chest should give you a
few hours before da lava eats it up, maybe more since Thork put
some mojo on it too."

Alto nodded. "I can’t thank you enough for
your help."

The troll offered another toothy grin. "Nope,
yous can’t. But dats okies." He turned and reached into the rift,
doing something that caused it to start to shut. He paused and
squinted, and then bent down and picked something up. He held up a
sheathed dagger and looked at it, and then turned to look at Alto.
With a shrug, Thork tossed it to him. He turned and finished
securing his portable warehouse door while Alto studied the
knife.

"What’s this?" Alto asked.

"Dat’s a dagger," Thork said. He laughed
raucously until he saw that Alto wasn’t as tickled by his sense of
humor as he was. "Thork gots a feeling yous might need it."

"I have a dagger," Alto pointed out.

"Not like dis one. Dis will cut frough
anyfing. Be careful, the sheaf has mojo to keep it safe, but dat’s
one wicked sharp knife."

Alto studied it for a moment and then tied it
on to his belt behind where his broadsword was secured. "I thank
you again, my friend. I pray the day comes when I can return these
favors."

The troll nodded. "Thork hopes so too! Buh
byes for now. Bonky, let’s go!"

The goblin tossed aside a bone it was using
to pick his teeth with and climbed to his feet. He grinned up at
Alto and patted his full belly, and then followed behind the troll
as they made their way out of the cave and through a tunnel.

Alto stood still after they left. Just like
that, the troll was out of his life again. He’d been saved a few
times by Thork and a more insane explanation didn’t exist for it.
He’d heard of protective spirits and even fantastical stories of
saints intervening to save a man’s life. Not for him, though. It
seemed, if anything, that Alto had a guardian troll.

He shook his head and turned towards the cave
that Thork had recommended. His shield began to dim rapidly,
plunging him in darkness in a matter of seconds. Alto’s breath
caught in his throat and he listened in the darkness. He thought he
heard the distant noise of Thork and Bonky moving away but he
couldn’t be sure. Everything felt so close in the darkness. He
reached out and hit the mountain on his shield, triggering a fresh
burst of radiance that chased the shadows ahead of him away.

He let loose the breath he’d been holding and
felt his muscles loosen. Now he just had to find the lava Thork
assured him was down in these caves somewhere, drop the potion in
it, and then find his way back up and out before it brought the
mountain down on top of him.

His muscles tightened back up at the thought
of the quest before him. "Won’t get done if I don’t start doing
it," Alto reasoned aloud. He started towards the tunnel with his
shield held out to light his way.

It was obvious after a few moments why the
troll had recommended the passage to him. It opened into the side
of a narrow chimney that stretched both above and below him. He
peered as far down as the light from his shield would let him see
but he couldn’t see the bottom. The walls of the chimney were wet
and cold, giving him hope that perhaps if he could find a way to
climb it he might find a way out higher on the mountain.

Alto climbed down, using fissures in the
rock, narrow ledges, and even other rocks that had broken and
become lodged along the way. At times, he had to risk sliding and
dropping several feet, ruining his hopes of climbing back up the
chimney to escape. He’d committed to his course, even if it took
him to the bowels of the underworld.

Alto’s downward progress was halted by
rubble. Broken rock had fallen in the uneven shaft and become
lodged, preventing him from further descent. A fresh activation of
his shield revealed a small gap in the walls of the chimney that he
could crawl through.

Alto inched along, pushing his shield ahead
of him in the tiny passage, until it opened up ahead of him. He
could smell something that reminded him of some of the strange
ingredients Kar needed for his spells. Something sulfurous. He
pushed forward again, unable to see beyond his shield and then saw
his source of protection and guidance dip forward and slide away
from him. Alto threw his arm forward but only managed to push the
escaping shield away from him faster.