Silver Dragon (33 page)

Alto watched him move and turned to follow. "Alto," Sir Amos called.

The warrior turned back. "I respect what you're doing here and I'm sorry about what happened. The next several days, I'm told, will be critical. Leave us to do our work. Post guards if you must, but leave us be."

Sir Amos nodded and added, "You continue to surprise me, young man." He turned and looked at Celos and Aleena. "I find myself filled with hope for the future seeing people such as yourselves shouldering such great responsibilities. If all you require is a lack of distractions
, it shall be so."

Alto nodded and put a smile on his face. Anxious to get back to the sword
, he turned away and followed after Thork. The troll had said the next part would take hours or longer, depending on how much magic Kar could put into the sword while the steel was poured and Garrick and Mordrim took turns hammering the blade.

Then came the fun part. T
he part where he let the troll try to kill him.

Chapter 20

"Drink dis
." Thork handed Alto a cup filled with a greenish liquid. Alto stared at it a moment and tried not to smell the noxious fumes coming off it. Garrick leaned over and wrinkled his nose.

"What's that?" the barbarian asked as Alto lifted the cup to his mouth and forced himself to swallow the potion.

"Troll's blood," the shaman replied when Alto lowered the empty cup.

Alto coughed and felt something twist inside his stomach. He grabbed his belly and looked at Garrick and then Thork.

The troll burst out with another of his belly laughs. "It's not real troll's blood," he said when he'd calmed down. "Well, dere's a little in dere, but not much. It's a potion dat will keep yous heart thumping no matter what tries to bash yous!"

Alto grimaced at the strange sensation spreading from his belly through his body. He felt the hair stand up on his arms and a wrenching sensation inside his belly. "Going to be sick," he muttered.

Thork nodded. "Dat happens da first time."

Alto stumbled away from the tarps that had been strung up around the open
-air forge. He made it to the jakes in time, barely, and spent several minutes in there as the troll's potion rampaged through his belly. He felt he'd swallowed a baby troll and it was kicking, punching, and biting his innards.

"I'm going to kill that troll," Alto groaned before a fresh spasm tore through him.

Several minutes later, Alto emerged on shaky legs. His sweat-covered skin was chilled by the winter temperature. The cold faded as he stood there and the empty feeling inside him passed. Alto took a step back towards the forge and felt fresh strength in his legs. By the time he made it back, he had a grim smile on his face.

"You all right?" Garrick asked while Mordrim continued to hammer the finishing touches into the sword. The northerner set down the simple cross piece that they'd cast and finished. When the blade was finished
, the cross piece would be slid up the tang and then the rest of the sword's hilt finished, including wrapping the grip. What would normally take weeks to do they'd managed in a single week, although the guard was plain and simple.

"I feel good," Alto said. He took a deep breath and smiled as he noticed his ribs had stopped aching. "Better than I've felt in a long time."

"Yep!" Thork nodded his head. "Thork gonna fix dat though!" The troll laughed at his own sadistic humor.

"Why did that potion make me sick?"

"Dat stuff will keep yous healing like a troll for a little while. But first dat means all the bad stuff in yous body is pushed out by da good stuff dat's growin'."

Alto frowned. He'd spent enough time in the outhouse there shouldn't have been anything left in him but he felt like he'd eaten a normal meal. He had energy
, too, enough that taking on a dragon didn't seem like such a hard task anymore. "All right, let's do this."

Thork grinned. "Lay on dis fing
." The troll pointed at a table that sat next to a long tub. The troll had produced some long copper tubing and, after a few careful bends to it, he had set it up next to the table so that one end was in the tub.

Alto moved to the table and lay down on it. He looked up at the tubing and frowned. Mordrim had commented during a rare break from forging the sword that it looked like something a brewer might use.

"Thork's gonna jam dis in yous chest," the troll said as he held up the other end of the tube. "Yous gots to try not to move or you'll be leaking all over da place! Da troll's blood potion will keep you alive but Thork's got to use some mojo too. Dat might make some funny fing happen."

"Thork, your idea of funny is a lot different than mine," Alto pointed out.

The troll chuckled. "Not dat kind of funny." Thork looked up at Karthor as the priest walked up to stand beside Alto. "Dis guy is gonna use some Leander mojo too, just to make sure."

"I thought Leander wouldn't help me anymore?" Alto's eyes went to his friend.

"Leander sees and knows a great many things," Karthor said. "More than his priests do, at least."

"What's that mean?"

Thork laughed. "Him's saying dat he finks Leander knows better den him does, and dat da last healins him gived you failed cause he doubted, not da saint."

Karthor opened his mouth but Alto held up a hand to stop him. "You are both my friends and I appreciate and respect both of the saints you represent. But why is it every religious person, priest or knight, has to go on and on about how great their saint is? Can't we just get on with this?"

Karthor clamped his mouth shut but Thork grinned. "Cause wifout us yous bashers would be getting bashed all da time!"

Karthor chuckled at the troll's explanation. "We're taught to spread the word of Saint Leander," the priest explained. "I guess I didn't realize I was overbearing about it."

"Not overbearing." Alto shook his head. "You're one of the best, I'd say. It's just every time I happen across someone devout, that's all they talk about. Even Aleena is getting that way."

Karthor smirked. "She's created quite a stir."

"I can imagine."

"Can you? It's rare enough that a woman choose the path of the sword. My church allows women in any role, as priestess or champion, but it's been so long since we've seen one attempt what she's doing
, they all thought it would never happen again."

"And I
hear she's pretty good," Alto added.

"You can be sure they're not taking it easy on her. If she's going to succeed and serve as a representative of the Knights of Leander
, they want to make sure she won't fail."

"I hope you're right," Alto said. He let his head rest on the table and took a deep breath. "All right, whenever you're ready," he said.

Thork grabbed up the other end of the copper tube. It had been sharpened to a point. "Don't worry," the troll said with a wink, "dis isn't going to hurt Thork a bit!"

Alto's eyes widened but before he could protest the twisted joke
, the troll jammed the hollow tube straight into Alto's chest. Alto felt his breath burst out of him from the shock of the strike, and then it was followed by an incredible burning sensation in his chest. He grabbed the edges of the table and squeezed them, trying to keep himself from reaching up to yank the tube out.

Each passing second felt like a year of agony. After a lifetime of gasping for breath
, he heard the troll say, "Yous's bleeding out good! Dis is gonna be fast."

Alto stared at the
sky above. Dusk was fast approaching. In spite of the fire in his chest and the nearby pit that continued to slowly sink into the ground as the fire rocks melted the rock around them, Alto felt his arms and legs grow chilly. He panted through it and listened at the splashing sounds of his blood draining out of his body and into the tub. Alto started to turn his head to look at it but the world spun around him and made him think he was going to fall off the table. He tried to grab on to the edges again and wondered when he'd let go. His fingers barely scratched across the rough surface of the wooden table.

"Okies, time for Thork to use some mojo. Yous get ready."

Alto heard the troll's words to Karthor but it sounded like the shaman was at the other end of a long hallway. Or a long tunnel, since he seemed to always run into the troll underground. Alto let out a shallow laugh at the thought, and then relaxed on the table. Even the pain in his chest was starting to fade into a distant warmth. His body was beginning to feel numb. He imagined laying down in a fluffy white cloud would feel like this.

Alto's eyes widened. Was this what it felt like to die? Or had the troll been wrong
—had he already died? Was this what his family felt? Was this what awaited Patrina if he'd already failed? It wasn't so bad, but it wasn't being alive either. His family deserved better. Patrina deserved better.

Alto struggled, shaking his head slightly and murmuring, "No!" It came out as more of a groan. Maybe his father would have laid back and let death claim him but Alto wasn't like that. His father's legacy died with him. Alto found the strength to curl his hands into fists even though he could barely feel them.

He stared up at the sky, picking out the pin pricks of stars as the sun set. This wouldn't be his last sunset, he vowed. Above him, he heard the chanting of the troll but the words slipped from his ears as soon as he heard them. The troll was speaking gibberish, or maybe something in his own tongue.

Alto realized the sky had gotten a lot darker. Even the stars seemed to be dimming. He stared up at it, surprised, and then let out a shallow gasp as a dark shadow that looked like a giant bat swept across the stars and blotted them out. It grew larger and larger, circling in the sky and then descending. Alto tried to point and cry out but he couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He couldn't even breathe. The darkness overwhelmed everything and took him.

* * * *

Alto was floating high above the ground.
It was daylight out, but overcast. Great columns of smoke rose into the air from the ground below. Alto looked down at the smoke and saw houses and farms burning across the countryside. He realized with a start that he recognized the homes of his neighbors growing up. Farmers, trappers, tailors, even the smith of the hamlet he grew up near. He looked to the south and saw Portland being overrun. Fires sprung up before his eyes as torches were put to buildings. He saw Aleena fighting the horde of men and creatures that charged down the street in front of the Foaming Mug. She was swept aside and her father's tavern engulfed in flames a moment later. The Blades of Leander went next, followed by the Church of Leander. The monsters swept through the streets killing and pillaging. They overwhelmed the duke's guard and crushed the palace with as much surety as they'd destroyed everything else.

Alto looked to the east, where Holgasford lay.
With just a thought, he was there. The city looked safe until he saw smoke farther east. Alto focused on it and found out why with the speed of a blink. The Kelgryn fleet lay smoking, beached, or sinking in the water. The coastal village of Coppefax looked no better than Portland had.

He followed the trail of ruin to the west and found the mercenaries from the south had thrown themselves on Holgasford while he was paying attention to Coppefax. They broke through the gates and threw themselves on the defenses, piling the dead high enough to bypass the fortifications. The jarl stood before his hall with his guards and fought back with Kevard's Blade in hand. His foes fell in great mounds around him, giving Alto hope that he would be able to stop the tide. As with the waves
the Kelgryn sailed, the enemy was relentless and soon crushed the jarl and took the palatial hall with him.

Alto
turned away and found he was staring at the farm he'd grown up in and saw only the charred remains of his house. He started to look elsewhere when he saw the graves of his family had been dug up. He turned slowly and saw them returned to their pikes and wooden crosses.

Alto ground his teeth in anger. It had all been in vain!

"Why didn't you save us?"

Alto stared at his mother. She stared at him with unseeing eyes but her mouth had moved. She'd asked the damning question.

"You shouldn't have left," Alto's father said. "This was a good life. A simple life. A life without threat or risk."

Alto felt sick to his stomach. "You're dead," he whispered. He shook his head, confused by what he saw. He jerked his head up when he heard sobbing and wailing coming from the mouths of his dead brothers and sisters. They cried out and pleaded, begging to be left alone. Pleading to be released from their misery.

Alto stood on the ground and felt his legs weaken. He nearly fell to his knees before he looked up at his father's corpse and shook his head. "You should have fought back! You could have saved them. You were a warrior once."

Halgin shook his head slowly. "I had a family to look out for. I couldn't risk them
. We had to do what they said."

"And look where that got you!" Alto spat at him. "You were a coward and my family paid the price. Why? You left when I was younger to fight raiders from the mountains
. Why not now?"