When goblins attack

Entreri [2]

David Pontier

Unknown publisher (2010)

Tags:
General Interest

David Pontier

Entreri 2 - When goblins

attack

David Pontier

Author’s Note

This story is a sequel to "The Art of Being Entreri." If you have not read that, this story will make little sense. A lot of the characters from the first story are in this story, and I did not go out of my way to redefine them other than to jog your memory with their names and titles. Hopefully "The Art of Being Entreri" is still fresh enough in your mind to remember what is going on. This story picks up about 3 or 4 months after the end of the first story, but before the Epilogue.

Many people wrote to me about TAoBE to say that I did a good job of turning Entreri into a good guy. I don’t feel that is what I did. At least, that is not what I intended to do. It was my intention to make him the hero of the story, but not the good guy. In Servant of the Shard, Entreri is the hero, but he is not good. RAS needed to give him proper motivation to do what he did and still keep him evil. In my first story and this one, Entreri is not good or just. He is not noble. He is honorable, but he is motivated by his own wants and desires. If you wanted to label him according to D&D I’d have to say he is Lawful Evil.

This is the first of what will probably be half a dozen short stories with Entreri. They will not focus exclusively on Entreri like the first story did, but they will expand upon the new world I created in the first book. I had so much fun making and designing the cities and the countryside, that at the end of the story, I was mad that it was over. The story focused Entreri, and I needed to keep him in the spotlight, making the setting secondary. That will slowly change as these stories progress. Entreri will always be the main character, but I will not try to develop him as much as I try to expand upon the new land he lives in.

Enjoy.

Chapter 1

The Discovery

Darren Hargers shivered as the blast of cold air hit him. He watched the door swing closed behind the stranger and breathed a sigh of relief when it clicked shut, sealing off the outside air. He enjoyed getting customers to his tavern, he just wished there was another way to enter without letting so much cold air in.

With the momentary chill past, Darren focused on the stranger. His cloak was pulled tight around him, as would be expected in this weather, leaving his face totally obscured. Instead of making his way to the bar, he made a straight line to one of the two fireplaces that stood on opposite ends of the dinning room.

Darren was the only one working tonight, for most people stayed in when the wind got like this. There was not much snow falling, and the accumulation this night would amount to only a few inches. While a few inches might shut down some of the towns a few miles away, up in the Great Range, the towns tended to be a bit more rugged, and some would not even notice that snow had fallen at all. But the wind, well, that was a different story.

The bartender watched his new visitor limp slowly over to the fire and crouch slowly before it. The limp was not bad, but his perceptive eyes picked it out easily. It was probably just stiffness from the cold. Darren walked out from behind the bar and approached the stranger. “Excuse me sir, can I get you something?”

The cloaked head spun around, and Darren gasped as he looked into the cowl. It was a woman. “Something hot to drink will be fine,” she replied.

“I have some hot cider,” he replied. She nodded her head, and he was off. What was a woman doing out in this weather? Within moments he was back with her drink. She thanked him. “Are you hurt, miss? I noticed you have a limp.”

Elliorn, the ranger, looked hard at the bartender, letting the hefty man know she did not appreciate having her privacy violated. Still, she answered the question. “It is an old wound,” she replied, the same answer she had given to the countless others who had asked the same question.

How old was it now? Time over the past months was hard to fathom for her. Her normal routine had been shattered almost a year ago when a violent killer had come to Karrenstoch, the town around which she had conducted most of her business. The killer’s name was Artemis Entreri. She had been sent in pursuit and had caught up with him easily. They had fought, and he had won. To keep her from following him, he had given her a vicious wound in her upper thigh. She had not been able to ride for two whole months. During that time, as she waited for the wound to heal and the pain to subside, she thought of nothing but Artemis.

Finally she could take it no longer and set out after him. The doctors who had treated the wound recommended another month of rest, but she did not care. As it turned out, the doctors were right. The wound had never fully healed. She had not allowed it. There were times when the pain was too much, forcing her to rest for a few days, but she never gave it a chance to fully heal. Her emotional wounds needed tending as well, and the only cure she knew for them was to catch and kill Artemis Entreri.

There were times at the end of a hard day’s ride that her pants and saddle would be soaked in blood. There were times when she could not even walk. Instead of reminding her that she needed rest, it only reminded her of the man who had done this to her.

The bartender waited for a few seconds as he saw the vacant look in the woman’s eyes, and then turned to leave. “Darren,” Elliorn said, keeping him in place. The bartender was startled she knew his name. Elliorn knew many things. “There are two horses in your stable, each with half a buck strapped to their backs. Who owns those horses?”

Darren had not been outside, but he knew of only two hunters in the tavern at the moment. They were loyal customers, and though it looked like this strange woman’s business with them might not be to their benefit, as he looked at her hard face, he knew where his loyalties lay. “They probably belong to Dexton and Coren McClure,” he said, turning to look at the other end of the room and pointing. “They are sitting over there.”

“Thank you,” she said and placed her drink down on a table. She rose slowly and walked over to the two men’s table, trying as best she could to disguise her limp. The wound did not like the cold very much.

The two brothers saw her coming right away, for the tavern was not very full. Beside themselves, there were only four other patrons and the woman. They were hard men, like most in these mountains were. They knew few women, and those they did know, they paid to see. This was not such a woman. She might have been attractive once, and she easily could be again, but she exuded such a strong feeling of animosity, that instead of staring, the average man looked away.

Men liked their women soft and supple, but this woman seemed to be chiseled from stone. She was cold inside, both men could see that, and just looking into her eyes made them think someone else had opened the door to the outside.

“Are you the ones that killed the buck?” she asked when she drew close enough for conversation.

“Yes we did,” Dexton replied. “It is a fine animal.”

“Yes it was,” Elliorn replied, stressing the past-tense verb.

The two men picked up on her concern. “We plan nothing but respect for the animal, miss,” Coren said quickly. “We need the meat to finish our winter store. We live five miles up the slope to the west. We don’t get back to town often during the winter.”

“And the hide?” she asked.

“We use it too,” Dexton said. He did not know why he was so quick to please this woman. He had noticed her limp, and though she looked tall under her heavy cloak, he could tell from her shallow cheeks that she was not big.

“The way you have the animal dissected, it does not look like a conservative process to preserve the meat, and the pelt is now cut in two.”

“We’ve done this before,” Coren continued their defense. “We know it is not the right way, but it is the only way to get the deer up to our cabin. One horse could not carry one of us and a full buck.”

Elliorn looked at the brothers sternly. Though she now had a singular purpose in life, she still had the instincts of a ranger, and she could not ignore her duty. “Next time bring a third horse.” With that she turned and walked back to her spot by the fire.

Both men sat in silence for a while. “Who was that?” Dexton asked.

“I don’t know,” Coren said, throwing back the last of his ale. “But I’ll be damned if we’re gonna spend money to buy and keep a third horse just a to haul a dead buck a few times a year. Let’s go.”

Dexton finished his drink and followed his brother out of the tavern. The two men had grown up together in this town, and had been inseparable most of the time. When the town failed to produce a wife for either of them, they decided they preferred the rugged wilderness life to a domesticated existence anyway. They moved away from town, built their cabin, and had been there ever since.

The two horses had appreciated the rest they were given and looked eager to continue when their riders picked them up. Dexton looked at the animal they had killed in the lower hills of the great range. It was a shame they had to cut it in half like this, but Coren was right, it was just a dead buck. Why had that woman cared do much?

They mounted and set off. There was not much snow on the ground yet, and the wind bunched most of it into easily avoidable drifts. There was also a rocky shelf that bordered their climb up the western slope, blocking the wind for most of the trip. Still, it took the horses more than an hour to pick their way over the five miles of rocky ground to their cabin. The men did not mind the slow travel. They were just happy to get home before nightfall.

During the late fall and early winter, the sky was always overcast and heavy, making it nearly impossible to tell where the sun really was. The sky just throbbed with an evenly spread gray that could suddenly turn to night without warning.

The two men dismounted and walked their horses to their outdoor meat cellar. They would keep the animal frozen in here until morning when they would thaw it, skin it, and prepare the meat for storage. As they approached the entrance, Coren paused. In the light snow that had fallen, he could clearly see footprints. “Someone has been here,” he said, dropping the reins of his horse and putting his hand on his sword. “And recently.” The snow had only started to fall and had not been on the ground two hours before.

“Who?” Dexton asked, walking up to stand beside his brother. There were tracks. Lots of them. They were experienced hunters and knew there were at least five, maybe six pairs. And they were small, like children’s feet.

Both men followed the tracks with their eyes as the prints went down the stairs and disappeared at the door to the cellar. Coren drew his sword slowly and crept down the stairs too, noticing that the cellar door was slightly ajar. He carefully pushed it open and froze.

Inside their meat cellar, slowly taking down the four carcasses that had made up the McClure boys’ winter store, were five creatures neither of the men had ever seen before. They were short, the tallest peaking at no more than four feet. They had very little clothing, considering the weather, and their skin was gray and lumpy. There appeared to be no hair anywhere on their bodies, and their bald heads were shallow and sickening. Neither Coren nor Dexton had ever seen a goblin before.

Two of the goblins were holding lanterns, and they were all looking toward the open door. The two groups stared at each other for a few seconds, totally unprepared for this meeting. The strange creatures reacted first, picking up their spears and charging the door with hoots and hollers.

Coren panicked. He was no novice with a sword, and the creatures looked crude enough, but there were five of them. He backed up without looking, forgetting about the steps behind him. His right heel slipped on a snow-covered step and he fell back. Before he could even try to regain his footing, the goblins were on him, treating his body like a pincushion.

Dexton had been halfway down the steps when he saw the goblins and scrambled back up, preparing to defend his high ground. The crunch of snow from behind him spun him about, and his sword easily blocked two poorly thrusted spears. There were three more creatures behind him and they hesitated, seeing the skill with which he had defeated their first attack. Dexton gained a bit of confidence and stepped forward, hacking down on the nearest goblin.

His blade cut through the crude spear and continued to take off one of the goblin’s ears. It screamed in pain, falling away from the deadly human. Dexton smiled and moved toward the remaining two. He suddenly felt a searing pain in his side. He had forgotten about the five goblins coming from the cellar! He spun around as another spear cut into the side of his leg. He batted two other weapons away before they could pierce his stomach but took a hit in the back of his thigh.

Dexton spun around a few more times, trying to keep away the swarm of creatures that surrounded him, but their constant attacks, wore him down. The last one he remembered was a vicious jab in his side. He dropped his sword and swooned to the ground. The goblins finished him quickly.

The goblin troupe leader looked at the two dead humans and frowned. His master had told him to remain hidden and secretive. They would have to move the bodies in case anyone came looking for them. It was bad enough they had to haul all the meat back to their cave, but now they had to do more work. The horses had been spooked, but were not standing too far away. There was more meat strapped to the horses. The goblin smiled. His master would be pleased.

* * * * *

“I still don’t understand why we can’t ride.”

Elliorn tried to ignore the complaint, but Steven’s constant griping was beginning to wear thin. She had not wanted him to come along. She preferred to work alone, but the mayor of the small town of Hillcrest had insisted Steven Jakes go along.

Dexton and Coren had not been back to town like they had promised. They had been tardy three days before people started to murmur. Their trips to town before winter hit were very routine, and the amount of supplies they usually purchased made many store clerks look forward to their visits. They were overdue more than a week now, and Elliorn had heard about it.

Her first thought in this matter was the same thought she always had: Artemis. The Great Range was the last area Elliorn had had gathered evidence of Artemis’s passage. She had assumed he had continued south to Garrilport, but in her brief time in that city, she could find no evidence of his presence. She had been drawn to the city because of a rash of violent murders, but the mayor had assured her that they had been the result of a band of thieves. The killers had been caught and executed. It was not Artemis.

She had then thought that he had skipped the town entirely, but she had hit every small village and settlement beyond Garrilport and no one had heard of her vicious killer. Therefore she had returned to the Great Range. The mountains were full of rough towns and rugged settlements where a ruthless man like Artemis could blend right in. With winter coming on, he probably needed a place to hold up. If he had picked the McClure’s cabin, that would explain the two men’s tardiness.

She had gone to the mayor and offered her help. The mayor had laughed at first, but she then explained who she was, and he had agreed. No one wanted to make the trip up the slope with the chances of a storm hitting at any time. Volunteers were always welcome, but the mayor had wondered what might happen to a lone woman knocking on the door of Dexton and Coren’s home. He had sent Steven as representative of the town, but he was there mostly for Elliorn’s protection.

“I mean, this trip would go a lot faster if we rode instead of walked. With the potential for storms up here, we should rea-”

“The horses need to have sure footing in the snow,” Elliorn finally responded. There was about 9 inches of snow lying on the ground now. In places where the wind had swirled, it topped a foot and a half easily. “They can not see where their hooves are going and if they should stumble or slip, we need to be ready to steady them.”

“If we can’t ride, then why bring them at all?” It was a dumb question only asked out of frustration. Each horse was loaded down with safety supplies just in case something did happen or if Dexton and Coren were alive but hurt.

Elliorn did not answer the question, instead she continued to check the sky and the trail ahead. She was a ranger and a very well trained one at that. The people who lived in these mountains were born and raised here. Still, the frequent winter storms that kicked up at this elevation usually caught them off guard. Elliorn wold not be caught off guard.

With peaks rising up all around, the view of the sky was blocked in almost every direction. Therefore a storm cell only a few miles away might be completely blocked from view until it was right above you. Elliorn knew there were other ways to spot these distant storms. The snow and ice on the visible peaks reflected the color of the sky behind them, letting an observant person know if dark clouds were beyond the horizon. Not all birds flew to warmer climates for the winter, and they had a perfect view of the entire sky. What they did often dictated what kind of weather was forthcoming.

“Is that it up ahead?” Elliorn asked suddenly, squinting into the distance.

“Is what what?”

Elliorn pointed at the distant brown shape that she assumed to be the cabin. Steven squinted into the bright, snowy landscape but just shook his head. “I don’t see anything.”

“No,” Elliorn huffed under her breath as she picked up the pace, “of course you do not.” Elliorn’s wound had not bothering her much on this trip. Walking was easier on it than riding, plus with the down time in the town, it had taken time to heal. As she quickened her step, she could feel it twinge. Instead of slowing down, she let the pain fuel her, reminding her that Artemis might lie at the end of this expedition. And if he did not, the quicker she handled this task, the sooner she could get back on the trail hunting him.

It was another five minutes before Steven saw that cabin. “Yes, that is theirs. It looks awful quiet.”

Elliorn had to agree. There was no smoke coming from the chimney. The cabin was set up on a small clearing. The slope they were climbing leveled off for several dozen yards, and then continued up at a far rockier and much steeper slope. To the west was a rolling descent that could give a sled rider a nice, long ride before they plummeted into a rocky ravine almost a mile down the slope. To the east was the rocky ledge that offered the travelers protection from the wind, but at the level of the cabin, the ledge broke away into a sparse grove of trees.

The set up was nice. The wind came from the northeast most of the time, and with the trees and mountain in that direction, they had a very effective wind break. Also, with the open area to the west, they saw extended sunlight toward the end of the day. It was a nice set up, but it was also a dead one. No one had been here in many days. There were no tracks between the woodshed and the house. A thick layer of snow lay on everything, and the last snow had come three days ago.

Elliorn saw a bright orange pole sticking out of the snow, a common indication that something important lay beneath that was meant to be easily found in poor visibility or heavy snowfall. She moved toward it, already guessing what it might be.

“Don’t you want to check the house first?” Steven asked when he saw his companion moving in the opposite direction.

“They are not home,” she said.

“Still…” but he did not have a good reason to check anything first.

Elliorn did not have a reason either, but she had instincts, and she was taught to follow those above all else. The stairwell down to the meat cellar was almost completely filled in with snow. Elliorn only recognized it as such because she had guessed what the orange pole might be marking. With her staff, she confirmed her guess, prodding deep into the snow to gauge the depth of the stairway.

“Watch your step,” Elliorn said when Steven approached. “There is a stairwell hidden here.”

It had not snowed that much, but the constant breeze that existed on the side of the mountain had swirled the snow within this hole until it was full. From the pack on her horse, Elliorn retrieved a large shovel. She began digging. The snow was very soft and easy to move. She was scraping against the stone steps within a few minutes. She worked her way down the hole and then stopped.

“What is it?” Steven asked crouching on the edge of the drop-off. Elliorn did not toss her latest shovelfull of snow, but showed it to Steven. “Red snow?”

“Blood,” she said.

“This is their meat cellar, right?” Steven asked. “Maybe this is animal blood.”

“Maybe,” Elliorn said as she continued. She did not for a moment believe that it was. Any animal they brought in here was long ago frozen, and from the amount of red snow and ice she was finding, this blood had hit these steps fresh.

Several minutes later she had cleared enough to find the door. It swung in and she tried to peer into the darkness. Her eyes were good, but after staring at the bright snow for the last two hours, she could see nothing. A lantern hung just inside the door. She produced a match and lit it.

“What do you see?” Steven asked eagerly, moving carefully down the partially cleared steps.

“Nothing,” Elliorn replied, hoisting the lantern high and moving into the large room. It was completely empty. All that remained were metal loops bolted into the ceiling. She bent down in the middle of the room and looked closely at floor, hoping for some distinguishing tracks, but it was just a jumbled mess on the frozen dirt floor.

“Wow,” Steven said as he entered the room behind Elliorn. “I thought they said they had enough meat to last all winter.”

“They did,” she agreed, rising from the floor. Hesitantly, she sniffed at the air. A deep frown crossed her face.

“What is? What do you smell?”

“Hopefully nothing,” Elliorn said and turned back to go outside.

Steven was growing frustrated with his cryptic companion. He had not really wanted to go up into the mountains with her. He much preferred reclining in front of his fire and telling his oldest son to chop more wood, but there was a small part of him that looked forward to see how this ranger would handle the situation. He had seen one or two other rangers come through their town over the years, and stories followed them. They could track anything and survive any climate. He had hoped to learn a few things on this trip, but now he just felt lucky if he got a two-word answer from her.

Elliorn paused in the doorway, looking back into the room, and then surveying the bloody steps in front of her. She climbed them slowly, and then picked up her shovel. Steven followed her out of the cellar and watched as she started to clear the area in front of the steps.

“What are you doing?”

Elliorn did not respond but kept working, clearing a wide spot on the ground. She found more blood. Looking back at the frozen stain on the steps, she noticed clearly that there was no blood between these two stains. She kept looking. A minute later she found it. It was an ear. It was not a human ear. She cursed – in Elvish.

“Dexton and Coren were killed,” she said aloud as she stood. “One here and one there on the steps. It was probably when they returned from town two weeks ago. Whatever killed them took their meat and left.”

“What killed them? An animal?”

Elliorn turned to look at Steven. “I don’t know of an animal that would kill and then move the bodies.” Steven looked around, noticing for the first time that there were no bodies. “At least none that are not in hibernation. And unless wolves have figured out how to start fires, they will have no use for frozen meat. These were not animals that attacked them.” She looked back at the goblin ear in her hand and added to herself, “At least, not in the strictest sense.” She pocketed the ear and looked around. But why would they hide the bodies?

The ranger’s eyes swept the landscape and stopped as she looked to the west. A hundred yards away, right in the middle of a wide clearing down the slope was a drift that had no business being there. “Come with me,” she said.

Fifteen minutes later they were looking at the frozen bodies of the McClure brothers. The multiple spear wounds were obvious even to Steven. No animal had killed them. To Elliorn, the wounds told a much bigger story. Coren’s wounds were all in front of him. He had probably been the unlucky one who had died on the steps. He had opened the door and been rushed.

Dexton had as many wounds in front as in back. If he had any sense, he would have stood his ground at the top of the steps, knowing that the goblins could only approach him two at a time up the narrow stairway. So if he had been attacked from behind, that would imply that the goblins had placed lookouts to make sure the ones gathering the meat were not ambushed. That kind of planning and strategy went against everything she knew about goblins. Maybe this second group was busy looting the house and just got lucky creeping up on Dexton. Still, why would they move the bodies? The ear told her that it had been goblins, but everything else pointed toward something more intelligent.

“We need to follow them,” she said suddenly.

“Who? Follow who? Do you know who did this? Was it someone in town?”

Elliorn looked hard at him. Was he ready for the truth? Was he ready to hear that there was a band of goblins living in the mountains? Did he want to know that the band had gotten so big that they had to resort to robbing civilized settlements, risking announcing their existence? Did he want to know that they were probably taking orders from orcs or ogres or even giants? He was not ready for that.

“We have plenty of daylight left,” she said. “I just want to find out where they went. It will not take too long.”

“You want to track them?” Steven was beside himself. “But you said this happened two weeks ago, and it’s snowed almost a foot since then. We can’t track them.”

Elliorn smiled. Steven was startled. He had not thought her face capable of a smile. It had indeed been a while, but she was back doing what she had been trained for. Even though the prospect of a band of evil creatures living in the mountains was not a good one, she was finally thinking about something other than Artemis. “Trust me, you might learn something. And,” she walked over to her horse and swung up into the saddle, “we will ride.”

Steven shrugged his shoulders and followed suit. She could not really track the goblins this long after the fact, but she did not really need to. With nothing to the west and the town to the south, the only path that made sense was the pass to the northeast between the trees and the northern climb.

They followed the pass for two hours, keeping the pace slow as Elliorn scouted the rocky inclines to their left. The trees on their right had long faded away, and the descent down the eastern slope of the mountain was getting steeper and steeper. Finally, Elliorn decided the ledge was too narrow and the drop off to the right too dangerous to continue on horseback.

They dismounted and Elliorn took her bow from the saddle. With a few quiet words to her horse, to make sure it did not run off, the pair continued on. Even though the ledge they now walked was getting narrower by the minute, Elliorn had her eyes trained on the cliffs above them. A brief motion in the rocks caught her attention, and she stopped short.

“What is-” but a motion of the ranger’s hand shut him up.

The climb to their left was not vertical but neither was it easy. Elliorn made sure all her equipment and weapons were secure and began to ascend. “Follow only if you are able,” she said.

The snow made it tricky, but there was no ice underneath, and if Steven kept his weight forward, it was like walking up a steep staircase – a steep staircase with no railing and a very long fall down if he should slip, but he tried not to think about that. After thirty feet, the climb leveled off a bit into another much narrower ledge than before.

Elliorn surveyed their potential path before continuing, placing each step with care and making sure there were hand holds so her partner could follow. This is why she liked to work alone. Steven was no novice to the outdoors, but this was not his place either.

They had climbed close to one hundred feet above were they had left their horses when Elliorn suddenly stopped. Steven did not blurt out a question this time and followed the ranger’s gaze. Up ahead almost a hundred yards at their level but on a different series of peaks was a goblin. Steven had never seen one before and at first thought it was a large child or a small bear that had forgotten to sleep through the winter, but its movements were very strange. The way it gangly moved over the uneven terrain spoke of something very foreign to his experience with animals.

Trying to get a better view of it, Steven stood and climbed up a nearby boulder. Before Elliorn could stop him, the goblin suddenly stopped. It had caught the motion out of the corner of its eye and turned around to look. Steven could now see the creature’s face, and he froze. Half of him was scared by what he saw, and the other half was ashamed that he had given away their location.

The goblin did not contemplate the situation and bolted. In a practiced motion, Elliorn unhooked her bow from over her shoulder and quickly knocked an arrow. She drew back, followed the goblin for a couple seconds to gauge its speed and distance, and fired.

Steven had not thought the shot possible when he saw her start for her bow, but the arrow smashed right into the center of the goblin’s back hurling it forward and dropping it out of view. Elliorn quickly stored her weapon and started after the dead creature. Steven wanted to apologize for his carelessness but decided more noise from him would not be good right now.

It took them longer than it should to cover the distance to the fallen scout because Elliorn paused frequently to make sure there were no other creatures about. When they finally did stand over the dead goblin, Steven got his first good look at it. He finally spoke. “What is it?”

“It is a goblin,” she said. She pulled out the ear from her pocket and handed it to Steven. “I found it back where Dexton was killed.”

Steven examined the object for a few seconds, realized what it was, and quickly dropped it in disgust. “What do they want?”

“To kill,” she said simply.

“To kill what?”

“Everything.”

Steven could tell she was back in short answer mode and did not push it. Elliorn examined the body at her feet. There was a short sword strapped to the creature’s side. It was not a high quality weapon, but it was far better than the weapons that had killed Dexton and Coren. Goblins could make spears, and slings. Anything beyond that was usually out of their ability, though not unheard of. Still, this one had probably been stolen. The fact that a scout had been carrying it meant they had plenty to go around.

This meant that the attack on the cabin was not their first such raid. They were growing restless. It was only a matter of time before their need for food and supplies grew beyond what the scattered cabins in these mountains could provide. They would probably hold up until spring, but when the thaw came, they would come pouring out of these mountains like the melting snow, flooding and consuming each town they came to.

“How many are there?” Steven asked after a while of silence.

“Too many,” she replied. “Anywhere from ten to two hundred. Maybe more.”

She pulled her arrow from the body and cleaned it with snow before returning it to her quiver. “When this one does not return to the lair, they will send a minor search party for him and assume he tripped and fell off a cliff somewhere. But if they find him here with an hole through his chest…” she did not need to finish for Steven to understand.

The goblin was not large, but the ease with which Elliorn picked it up and heaved it down the eastern side of the mountain impressed him. He watched the goblin bounce hard off a sharp rock and clear the pass they had been walking originally. It would not stop falling for a while and would create a mini avalanche to bury itself. No one would find it.

“Let us get back to town before dark,” Elliorn said, pausing to pick up the ear Steven had dropped. She also kicked up some snow to cover the goblin’s blood.

“That’s it?” Steven complained. “We aren’t going to hunt down the cave to try and find out how many there are? What kind of report can you give?”

“I know too much already,” Elliorn replied.

“What, from the goblin? We don’t know anything. You just said you don’t know how many there are. Did you pick up some secret ranger clue off that dead creature?”

“Not from the goblin,” she said and pointed down toward a snowy pass fifty yards away and above the level of their original ledge. “From those.”

Steven saw the shadows in the snow and thought they looked like drifts. “More bodies,” he asked.

“They are not drifts. They are tracks.”

“Tracks? Did someone drag something through the pass.”

Elliorn shook her head. “Footprints.”

“Footprints?” Steven almost shouted. “They must be three feet across.”

Elliorn did respond verbally but looked plainly at him, waiting for his next obvious question. He understood the look and swallowed hard, not asking anything else, for he feared the answer. Carefully the pair made their way down the mountain and back to their horses. The ride back to town was a quiet one.

Chapter 2

The Coward

“So,” Entreri said loudly, as he put down his hammer and stepped away from his home, “Have you come to kick me out again?”

John Irenum, Captain of Garrilport’s city guards, sat on his horse and regarded the man suspiciously. This had been the greeting, or some variation of it, that this former assassin used every time the two met. John was not sure exactly how he should react to it. He had tried to apologize for having falsely accused him of the earlier murders, but that was not what Entreri wanted. He had tried to play along with the killer and make up some charges to arrest him, but that joke never played well either.

“Do I have reason to?” the captain tried. “Am I going to get a report of three dead shop keepers tomorrow and have to make a return visit?”

Entreri leaned against the outside wall he had just erected and looked casually up at the captain. “Maybe.”

Maybe? John thought. What was that supposed to mean? He knew very little about this man. He had heard many stories regarding Entreri’s bravery, his cowardice, his skill, his valor, and his evilness. The stories came from everyone: Buster, the blacksmith; Jerithon, the mayor; Ellen, the mayor’s daughter; Elliorn, the ranger, and even Entreri himself. Each person had a story, and each story painted this man as a very different creature. The only person without a story was John himself. He had never seen this man fight. He had been unconscious when Entreri had taken out Quinton Palluge’s men in the guardhouse, and from all accounts, he had missed a show. The captain’s only knowledge of this man was that he was rich, sarcastic, and an average carpenter.

John just shook his head in frustration and dismounted. It was not common for people within the city to ride a horse. In fact, there was an unwritten law that no horses were allowed on the city streets except for pulling carts or wagons. No one was going to enforce this law on John, though. The broken leg he had suffered during Quinton’s brief reign over the city had only recently healed enough for the captain to walk without pain. Most had expected him to resign over the injury, but he did not. He could no longer run well, and the limp when he walked was something he could not hide, but he was still the best fighter in the city. Well, second best.

“Your house is really coming along,” John said casually, admiring the work. It was not perfect, but for a do-it-yourself job, it was pretty good. “You know, this area of town isn’t really that bad. It is kind of peaceful.”

On the edge of town where Entreri lived, there were still plenty of trees scattered about, and their vibrant color in late fall did add a picturesque quality to the most run-down part of the city. “Maybe you should think of moving out here, Captain. I’m sure the locals would enjoy the protection.”

John smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

The two men stared at each other, each wondering what the other was thinking. Entreri broke first. “Okay, John, what do you want? I don’t have time for casual conversation right now. I’d like to get this section of my house sealed up before the winter winds hit.”

“You’ve got another week at least,” John said, his eyes wandering across the late fall sky. He looked back down at Entreri and saw he was not smiling. “Okay, I’m gathering a group of men to go into the mountains and kill a few goblins.”

Entreri flinched. He had not been expecting that. “Hardly seems a task for the City Guards. I mean, by definition, aren’t you supposed to guard the city?”

“News came down yesterday that a few people have seen some goblins in the cliffs around their town and are asking for some help.”

“Really?” Entreri asked, not buying a word of it. “A few townspeople saw something in the mountains and they just assumed they were goblins? Have you ever seen a goblin, Captain? Do you think they exist? Would you take a troupe of your best men up into the mountains to fight a bunch of fairytale monsters?”

“You have seen one?” John asked, dodging Entreri’s question.

The assassin nodded. “Yes. I have. They appear quite harmless. They are just tiny things you see. If you wandered across one, you would almost laugh at it as it attacked you with its pointy stick, or maybe with no weapon at all. It makes a lot of noise and has sharp teeth, but you draw your sword and cut it in half. A ten-year-old boy could kill one. You look down at the dead creature and laugh. You then hear that laughed mimicked behind you and you turn to see twenty more goblins stalking you from behind. You stop laughing. You swing your sword wildly in front of you, tearing up the first four that come too close, but then you feel the jab of a spear in your ribs. Then the cut of a cheap dagger burns across your leg. In seconds you’re overwhelmed, and then in a few more seconds you’re dead.”

John listened to this account in silence, able to see the scene played out in his head. “So you see,” Entreri continued. “If one of your townspeople from up in the mountains had seen a goblin, they would think nothing of it. They certainly would not have cause to contact you. If they saw more than one goblin, then they are dead, and not capable of calling for help.” Entreri paused for effect. “So why this sudden belief in goblins?”

“You know quite a bit about these creatures,” John said, again avoiding the question. “You would be a perfect addition to our group. With your knowledge and fighting skill we wou-”

“Captain,” Entreri interrupted, “shut up. I know you are hiding something, and I’m pretty sure I know what it is. There are not three people within a hundred miles that could properly identify a goblin or know how dangerous they can be.”

“Meaning there are two people within a hundred miles?” John prodded.

“Within one mile if I had to bet on it,” he answered. “One being me, and the other is your mysterious guest.”

“A ranger came in to town last night,” John said. Entreri was not going to let him get off that easily. He kept waiting for more. “Elliorn came in to town last night. She is the one that spotted the goblins. They killed two men at least, and she tracked them far enough to know where they are. She wants to take at least ten fighting men with her back into the mountains to eliminate them before they attack one of the towns. So, what do you say? Sound like a party?”

Entreri did not say anything. He just stared at the captain.

“Come on,” John said, “I know you two have met. She’s tall, attractive, blonde hair, walks with a limp.” Entreri remained stoic. “I know she knows you, she’s asked about you before.” Still nothing. “So do you two have some type of history? Was it a nasty break up or something?”

“Or something,” Entreri finally said. “I gave her the limp.”

John had assumed as much. “So you two used to fight. Big deal. I tried to arrest you for murder not too long ago, if you remember. I was going to execute you. It’s all in the past, you know, water under the bridge.” Entreri was not biting. “Look, this is too important for a feud to get in the way. You single-handedly saved this town. Whatever gripe she might have with you is ancient history. I won’t let her take you away. It’s time to put our differences behind us for the common good.”

The common good? Entreri thought. Who did this guy think Entreri was, Drizzt? “Let me get this straight,” he said finally. “You want me to go with you into the cold, snowy mountains to kill a swarm of goblins and other assorted nasties with a bunch of guys who have never even seen a goblin before led by a woman who wants to kill me.”

“Is that a no?” John asked after a contemplative pause.

“Yes,” Entreri replied, picking up his hammer and turning back to his wall, “that is a no.”

“Are you scared?”

Entreri was in mid swing with is hammer and stopped, almost smashing his fingers. He slowly put the nail down and turned to look at John, still holding the hammer. “Excuse me,” he said slowly, “you might want to rephrase that question.”

John smiled at him. He was not going to be intimidated. “My fault,” he apologized, “I’ll try again. Are. You. Scared.”

Entreri laughed. He had not laughed in a long time and it felt good. “Leave, Captain. Go with your men and kill a few goblins. You could use a change of scenery. Take your men and follow the ranger. She won’t steer you wrong. When you come back, you will have a story to tell for a change, and I will take you out to dinner so you can tell it. Please, just leave me alone before I have to kill you.” He turned his back on the captain and pounded the next nail in with one swing.

John watched him secure the wall for a few seconds before limping back to his horse. He would find out what this guy’s story was. He would solve the mystery of Artemis Entreri sooner or later. Right now, though, he had work to do.

* * * * *

“So how did your proposal go?”

John frowned as he pulled his horse up just outside of town and replied to the ranger. “He’s not coming.” He turned to look at the men he had already gathered. “This is our group.”

Elliorn shrugged. “Very well. Who is he anyway? And if he is such a skilled fighter, why isn’t he a member of your guard?”

John thought before answering. “Those are two very good questions. When I find out, I’ll let you know.”

“You don’t even know who he is?” she asked, confused.

John looked at her and replied frankly, “No, I really don’t.” Not allowing further questions into the subject, he kicked his horse into a trot. “We should get moving. We’ve got about six hours of light left. We can get a good 40 miles in before camp. That should get us into Hillcrest by tomorrow evening.”

Elliorn put her previous questions out of her head. They were not important. “Let’s go then.”

The group of eleven moved at a good pace north out of town. The land became hilly almost immediately after leaving the outskirts of the city. Elliorn led a path that stayed mostly in the valleys. The winding trail added maybe a mile to their trip, but the ease on the horses allowed them to make up that distance easily. By sundown they were well over 40 miles from the city.

The men had brought few provisions with them, thinking to stock up on supplies when they reached Hillcrest. What little food they did bring, they ate, and most went to bed early. Elliorn volunteered for the first watch, and John stayed up with her. They sat on opposite sides of the fire, though neither looked into the flames but kept their eyes searching the surrounding darkness.

“Tell me about goblins,” John said after a long silence.

“They are like rats,” Elliorn answered. “If you see one, you kill it. If you see a dozen, you move. On their own they can be formidable, but they are more often used as cannon fodder for a more powerful evil race. They are not great thinkers, but they are at least smart enough to know it. If servitude to a more powerful master will bring them what they want, mainly, a chance to kill and destroy, they will willingly serve.”

“Why have they made their appearance now?” John asked. “I mean where have they been?”

“The goodly races – humans, elves, dwarves – all have pride within their respective races. They make sure what they learn and discover is passed on to their children and all future generations. We only need to invent something once. The evil races are not like that at all. They live in the present and think nothing of the future. For that reason, when they are pushed back and forced to live deep within a cave or mountain, they need to literally reinvent the wheel.

“The surviving goblins do not prosper as they live huddled and scared in the dark. A few generations go buy and a daring soul wonders what the surface is like. They might retain simple things like fire, since they needed that to survive, but other things like hunting skills or knowledge of seasons and humans are things they need to rediscover. Once they reacclimatize themselves with their surroundings, they can flourish, and given the chance, they will reproduce like rabbits.”

“To what level can they be expected to advance?” John continued his query. “I mean you said in your report that the two dead men were killed by crude spears, yet you found a sword on the one in the mountains. Can they forge their own weapons?”

“They have been known to,” Elliorn admitted, “though if you find goblin-made weapons, that is usually an indication that someone or something else is running the show. Shaping metal, though, is about as far as you can expect their technology to go. Personally, I would be surprised if this tribe has that ability. They mostly steal from those around them and try to copy if need be.”

Both sat in silence for a while. “Tell me about Artemis Entreri,” John said after a while.

“Excuse me?” Elliorn was quite startled. “What do you know about him?”

“Not much,” John said, speaking the truth, though Elliorn might not think so. “When we had our rash of murders a few months ago, I investigated to see if any similar happenings went on elsewhere. I heard about the murders up north, and then you came into town a short while later, asking about him.”

“Why do you want to know?” Elliorn asked carefully. “Do you know where he is?”

John laughed. “No, but I am an investigator like you. I like to know how the other side thinks. I want to know what makes them tick. If he, or anyone like him, should waltz into my city I want to be prepared.”

“There is no one else like him,” Elliorn argued. “He is unique among all killers you and I have ever known. He does not work for the highest bidder. He works only for himself. He kills for whatever reason suits him at the time and tries very little to justify it afterwards. He says he fears nothing, but I think he fears death more than he would like admit. He has been blessed with skill, and uses it to guard his cowardice better than anyone I have ever seen.”

“A coward?” John sounded skeptical. “From the reports I’ve heard and read, he took on five men at once in halfway. That does not sound like cowardice.”

“It is not heroism, if that is what you are implying,” Elliorn said. “When we run across the goblins you will laugh at the precaution and attention I have given to them. You will hack through five at a time with your tremendous sword. Does that make you heroic because you are ten times stronger and a hundred times a better fighter? No. Entreri engages what you and I see as amazing odds, but to him, he sees other men as weaker than goblins. He lets that view of their skill cloud his judgement toward their value. I am sure you have seen grown men who are willing to sacrifice themselves in droves to save the life a child. That child contributes nothing to society and is, in fact, a burden at many times to their parents, but people will sacrifice themselves to save that child. Why? Because they see that the value of that child is not what he or she can do, but in the fact that the child is alive.

“Artemis does not see life on its own as being valuable. He instead only judges people on their skill and what they can contribute. Since he sees himself as the best in these categories, he looks down on everyone else, and we are just pawns in his game.”

Both were quiet for a while, but before John could ask another question, Elliorn wanted to drive her point home. “Right now, you, me, and nine other men are about to place ourselves in mortal danger. I would be honestly surprised if one of us did not die in the next few days. Why are we doing this? To protect a town filled with people we do not know and will never meet beyond the next few days. Beyond that town are dozens of others that will be in danger if the goblins are allowed to go about their business unchecked. Again, these are people we will never meet. But we act because we can not sit by and let others suffer when we could have helped. We see value in life, even if it is people we do not know.

“If you were to ask Artemis to go on a trip like this, he would probably laugh at you. Maybe the prospect of fighting goblins does not scare him, but he will not risk his own life for no gain. He just does not see others as important. Therefore it is not bravery that allowed him to face off and kill the people he did, but simple contempt.”

John pondered this. He wanted to discount what this woman was saying. If what she said was true, and Buster would agree with her, then he really should kick the man out of his city. If at some time in the future Entreri’s wants and desires conflicted with his own, and the assassin really did see John’s life and the lives of everyone else in the city as meaningless, things could get ugly. After all, her prediction on Entreri’s reaction to this trip had been dead on. Entreri had laughed at him.

Still, had not Entreri gone up against Quinton, his mage, and all Quinton’s other men by himself, with no visible chance at personal gain? Though he had not seen the battle, Entreri could not have viewed the fight as easy, could he? Was he that good? Or was he that cocky?

“Didn’t he fight you?” John asked, pressing the point.

Elliorn paused a long time before answering John’s question. At first she wanted to lash out at the captain for questioning her judgement with regard to Entreri, but she checked that with the knowledge that John had a valid point. “He fought me because he had to,” Elliorn finally said.

“Did he treat you with contempt?”

“Yes,” the ranger replied, speaking before really thinking about her answer.

“Then why didn’t he kill you?”

That was the money question. That was the question Elliorn could not answer. That was a question she had posed to Entreri more than once after the fight when he had her tied up. It was a question that might never be answered. “You take the first watch,” Elliorn said, changing her mind and rising from the ground. “I will be off in my tent. Wake me in two hours.”

John watched her go, her limp especially obvious right now. He smiled. Entreri was not as cut and dry as Elliorn believed he was. Neither was he as noble and reformed as John wished he him to be. It was a gray area. That gray area allowed him to go up against unimaginable odds for no reason before, but not be willing to go up against a band of pathetic goblins for obvious reasons now. John hoped he would be able to figure it out soon.

Chapter 3

The Ambush

Elliorn’s group did not stay long in Hillcrest. They arrived in the small town shortly before nightfall. The trip up into the mountains had been rough. Snow had not fallen on Garrilport and was not expected for another few weeks. Climbing up into the mountains at this time of year was like experiencing the seasons in fast forward.

The group ate heartily and slept well in the small hotel above the local tavern. They woke early, loaded up with supplies, and set out. Elliorn was not familiar enough with this area to guess at a different route to the goblins’ area, so she led the men toward the McClure cabin and then through the pass.

These men knew what to expect and had been instructed by the ranger on how they were going to approach. Several men, including Elliorn, had bows out and ready to shoot down any goblin scouts that might be able to announce their approach. The rest of the men had their swords ready. Even Elliorn, who normally only carried her bow, staff, and a few daggers, had a fine, Elven blade strapped to her hip.

She led them up from the ledge into the jagged peaks at about the same location she and Steven had climbed. She remembered the giant footprints and was pretty certain they would lead her to whatever cave or living environment the creatures had set up. She found the pass after half an hour of careful climbing, but the prints were gone. It had snowed almost every night since she had last been here, but she still had assumed that fresh prints would be here.

The pass itself looked like a riverbed. During the short spring and summer months, this pass ran with melted snow, and centuries of such activity created this wide pass amongst the rocky cliffs. As soon as they were all walking in the pass through the heavy snow that had collected in the wind trap, Elliorn grew nervous. She knew a good ambush site when she saw one.

In the pass, there was no cover to speak of, and the sides of the mini canyon were almost shear. With the deep snow they had to move through, a hasty retreat was not possible either. Still, she was yet to see any sign of activity around her. She had not even seen one track anywhere. Either the goblin she had killed several days ago had been lost, or the goblins were staying indoors for a reason.

They walked for no more than fifteen minutes before Elliorn held them up. John was at the end of the group, as he moved the slowest, but quickly worked his way to the front. “What is it?” His eyes were searching the peaks around them, but he saw nothing.

“Up there,” she pointed straight ahead at the pass.

John looked but saw nothing. “I don’t-”

“The snow drifts slightly,” she explained. Now that John knew what to look for he could see it too, but how Elliorn had seen it or why it had made her stop the troupe was a mystery. “The wind should normally blow straight down this pass, but something up there has caused it to swirl slightly.”

“An obstruction?” John ventured.

“A cave,” she corrected. “Probably a large one.”

She stayed motionless, examining the situation for a long while. “Are we going to continue?” John asked. “I mean isn’t this why we came?”

Elliorn cast a look at both sides of the pass again, searching for something to indicate an ambush or at least some type of presence, but she saw nothing. “Yes, we will continue. I do not like it, but we will continue. After all, they are only goblins.”

John let his men pass him by and took up his spot in the rear. The pass curved slightly as it neared the drift and that kept the cave mouth invisible until they were right upon it. The opening was roughly circular and slightly over four yards in diameter. The level of the snow was two feet from the bottom of the cave mouth, meaning it probably stood close to five feet off the floor of the pass, keeping it safe from the springtime river.

Slowly, Elliorn stepped up into the cave, the light from outside casting a long shadow on the floor before her. The men followed suit, and soon they were all creeping cautiously down the cave. Elliorn saw a brief shadow flutter across the floor as if a bird or something had flown by the cave opening. “John,” she whispered harshly, knowing the captain would be in the rear, “check outside.”

He had not seen the shadow, but as he turned, he watched as a few clumps of snow fell passed the opening. He and three other men moved silently toward the light. John got to the edge and peered out and up. Another clump of snow fell and hit him in the face. He growled and sputtered as he wiped it off. When he could see again, he found himself staring at a dozen grinning goblin faces.

The creatures screamed in attack as they jumped from their elevated position and rained down on the captain. John got his sword out in a hurry and skewered the first goblin to hit him. The dead goblin slid all the way to the hilt, and John before could remove it, a second foolishly fell on his blade. The weight of both creatures sent John’s sword to the snow, and he had to fend of the other raining goblins with his fists.

The other three men that had accompanied him raced to his rescue, hacking up the goblins around their captain so John could free his sword from the two bodies at his feet. Once he got his weapon back, John laid waste to the goblins around him.

Inside the cave, Elliorn and the remaining six city guards heard the noise from outside, but they also heard noise from within the cave. Once they saw that John and the three other guards had things somewhat under control, they kept their attention ahead, not willing to turn their backs to the dark recesses of the cave. The dim light from outside reflected off the approaching eyes of the goblins, illuminating them long before their bodies became visible. There were dozens of them. Elliorn also noticed that two sets of eyes seemed to hover over the goblin hoard almost three yards off the ground. Giants!

“Everyone get back outside!” Elliorn cried. What kind of ranger was she if she could lead a group of men into an ambush set up by goblins?

They turned to rush outside, but an explosion near the mouth of the cave stopped them short. Elliorn raced to the front of the group as a second rock smash into the cave floor. She crept forward carefully just in time to see a third rock come shooting in. She jumped back barely in time to avoid getting crushed, but not before she saw the creature that had thrown it. More giants!

They were trapped, Elliorn knew that, but the goblins and giants within the cave could be dealt with. The marksmen on the cliffs out side could not. She pulled her staff from her back and moved back to stand between the men and the goblins. The creatures in the cave did not advance but milled about, stirring as if ready to charge but not doing so for the moment. Elliorn thought it looked like they were waiting for something. Then she heard a loud rumble from outside and swore.

Outside, John heard the rocks whizzing by and had a chance to look up. He did not like what he saw. Three giants stood across from the cave opening, hurling rocks down at them. The rocks were bigger than a man’s torso, and would easily kill anything they hit. This was proven a few seconds later when a goblin leaped up into the cave and was pulverized.

John saw that the attacks were not meant to hit them, but to keep the rest of their party in the cave. The reason for this became obvious when the giants changed their target to the heavy snow bank above the cave opening. Four well-thrown rocks started the avalanche. John had nowhere to run.

Rock and snow came down in a tremendous rumble that echoed loudly down the pass. John tried to scramble out of the way, but he and his men were covered within seconds. Inside the cave, the noise was tenfold, but even more frightening than the noise, was the silence that came after. Darkness consumed them. No one even bothered to check the landslide for holes, knowing the cave was efficiently sealed off.

Elliorn reached for the unlit torch that hung by her side, opposite her sword. She quickly lit it. The eyes in the cave were visible once again, only this time they were advancing. She dropped the torch and readied her staff. It was impossible to miss her enemies for there were goblins all around her. Her weapon created a spinning shield and goblins flew away from her in every direction. She could here the cries of the men around her as they were struck, but Elliorn was yet to be hit.

That streak lasted ten entire seconds. At the end of that time a huge club, that Elliorn would have likened to a tree trunk if she had seen it coming, smacked her in the head from above, and she went down. Her last thoughts were of the torch extinguishing, but it was actually only her mind darkening as she lost consciousness.

* * * * *

John woke up slowly and thought he was blind. He blinked several times, but the image never changed. As his mind slowly retreated from unconsciousness he realized that it was not that he could not see anything, it was just everything he could see was the same. Then he remembered the avalanche. He was buried alive. Well, he thought, at least I am alive.

All he saw was white. As his eyes slowly came into focus, he began to see the crystal structure of the snow and other slight variations, confirming that he was not blind. He was lying on his stomach, his right arm pinned beneath him and the other outstretched to his left. Directly beneath his face his helmet had created a fairly large air pocket. He was glad he had worn his armor. It was not full plate, but it was more than most of the other men had worn. If it had not been for that, he would have been crushed. Also, if he had been lying on his back, he probably would have suffocated.

He tried to move but was mostly unsuccessful. The most he could do was shake his head around. Having first thought he was blind, now he was amazed at how much he could see. He had not been buried in a snow avalanche that often before – this was his first – but he had guessed it would be darker. Also he seemed to be able to breathe rather easily. If air and light were filtering in through the snow, that probably meant he was not very deep in the pile.

He could move his head about, but not enough to tell for sure from which direction the light was coming. Bracing his arm beneath him, he pushed hard against the snow above him, and felt it give slightly. With a little room now, he slammed his back into the ceiling again, listening as the snow packed together, another sign he was not that deep in the snow.

Soon he could move his right arm back and forth beneath him. He extended it to his waist and was happy to find the handle of his torch still attached. He brought that up in front of his face. The torch was wet, but it was also soaked in oil, and he hoped it would light. Before he did, though, he pulled his face guard down. This was going to be hot.

The torch sputtered at first, but the heat was enough to begin a small rain shower on the back of John’s head. Before the heat became too much, John was able to angle the flame above his head slowly, hoping that the snow above him was melting fast enough so he did not thrust the torch into the snow. He was getting very wet as the melted snow continued to rain down, and the flame was stealing the oxygen from his small space.

John held his breath and kept slowly moving the torch above his head. Suddenly he felt a rush of air on the back of his neck and the rain slowly let up. He was through! He slowly brought the torch back down, moving it side to side to melt as much snow as possible. When the flame was near his head again, he moved it forward this time, careful to melt the snow evenly so he did not create a mini avalanche that would put the torch out.

It took a while, but when John could finally move his upper body, he pulled and tugged until his legs began to move. His left hand was holding his sword, and he had to let it go to free himself. After ten minutes of strenuous work, he was free. It took him a minute or two to locate his sword; it was not too deep either.

John took stock of his situation while he warmed himself with his torch. The avalanche had been complete. The pass now looked like a box canyon with no feasible way to dig through. He had been on the very perimeter of the slide, only three feet from the edge.

John looked suddenly up at the cliffs around and above him. They were empty. He breathed a sigh of relief. If he had been any deeper inside the pile, he would not have been able to get out, or would have been crushed to death instantly. If he had been any closer to the edge, the giants would have seen that he had escaped and finished their dirty work.

John returned his thoughts to the avalanche and his men buried inside. He wanted to start digging, but common sense began to set in. They could not still be alive. Also, there was only a few hours left of daytime, and he was cold and wet. If he did not find shelter, he would die. John said a brief prayer for his men and then moved quickly away, heading for the McClure cabin. He promised himself he would come back. And when he did, he was going to bring an army.

Chapter 4

The Dinner Party

Entreri walked down the street, enjoying what would probably be the last moderately warm day they would have till spring. He had just finished the last section of his house, and now he wanted to work on the inside. For this he needed different wood.

The clerk who owned the lumber shop was very agreeable. After Entreri’s encounter with Buster, he had found it necessarily to find a different blacksmith. This was partly because Buster had left town for a short while until the matter with Quinton had been taken care of, and mostly because Buster would never treat Entreri fairly. The rest of the shop owners treated Entreri like a normal customer. Most treated him very well due to the timely fashion in which he paid his bills, very rarely arguing over the price.

Quinton Palluge had been the most prominent gem and precious metals dealer in Garrilport, and with his departure, several people stepped up to take his place. Entreri made sure he visited them all when he exchanged his treasure into more easily tradable currency. He did not want one of them to get suspicious about him, and he hoped they did not talk among themselves.

Torrance Kelly, the man who ran the lumber shop, was not his usual chipper self when Entreri entered. Even after seeing one of his better customers enter, the man only gave a half-hearted smile. Entreri tried to ignore it as he approached and gave his order.

“I’m sorry, Artemis,” Torrance replied, “I won’t be able to fill that order today. You see, I had an accident last night. I was robbed.”

“Robbed?” Entreri had hoped the crime sprees of before would disappear once the people of the city saw how violently John and his men had dealt with Quinton and friends. Of course, Entreri quickly realized, John and most of his best men were not in town right now. “They stole wood?”

“No, they stole money, but now I can’t purchase wood from my supplier. I have what you need in stock, but I need it to fill other outstanding orders. It will be some time before I rebuild enough bank to resupply myself. Of course, if you could pay your credit line, it would help.”

“Of course,” Entreri said pleasantly, though inside he was fuming. It was not that Torrance had been robbed, but that Entreri was being passed over for more important customers. He was not used to being passed over. If in Calimport someone owed Entreri money, they would ignore all others until they had repaid the deadly assassin. Entreri could probably get what he wanted from this man through a little “creative” bargaining, but that would ruin his reputation, and word would get around. “How much do I owe you?”

Entreri knew what the bill was, but he also knew he did not have it on him. While Torrance looked in his books, Entreri removed his ivory rod from his vest. He had gotten very good with the portal and quickly opened a small window behind the privacy of the counter. He reached in and picked up a coin bag that was sitting on the distant cave floor.

“Oh, it is too much,” Torrance said, once he had found the entry in his logbook.

“How much?” Entreri asked again, holding the large bag of coins below the counter.

Torrance flipped the book around so Entreri could see it for himself. Entreri heaved the bag onto the counter and then plucked his normal coin pouch from his waist. He counted out a few more coins until he had the exact amount. “You can count it if you like,” Entreri said, “but that should be all of it.”

Torrance just looked at the amount dumbfounded. He was not surprised that Entreri had the money; he knew how rich his customer was. He was just shocked that Entreri had it on him. He looked up at his new favorite customer with a smile on his face. “What did you needed again?”

Entreri repeated his order. “I’ll see what I can do,” Torrance said slowly. “I can’t make any promises, but my boy will be by your place later today with what I can scrounge together.”

“I appreciate it,” Entreri said. As he turned to leave, he thought that it would be highly unlikely for Torrance to decide not to complete his order in its entirety. Either that or he would call on his other customers and only accommodate those who could satisfy their credit line as Entreri had just done.

Entreri had not planned to do any work till after lunch, but he had also counted on helping the delivery boy with his order. Now he had a few hours to burn. He had worked mainly on the outside of his house, but now with winter coming, he realized the inside could use some sprucing up as well. As he approached the textile shop, he looked around carefully to make sure no one saw him enter. If it were known back home that Artemis Entreri, the most deadly man in Calimport, had visited Nancy’s Fine Fabrics, people would start to talk.

Even Entreri, with his new role in life, could barely stand to be in the shop. Artemis Entreri had faced down the horrors of the underdark. He had fought to the death with Drizzt Do’Urden. He had gone up against many different powerful battle mages. He could survive staring down colorful floral patterns if he had to. He needed new curtains. The ones he had were old and full of holes, plus he had half a dozen new windows now that did not have any curtains.

As he moved through the rows of fabric, he was glad that not many people in the city knew him. The chances of him getting caught in here were slim.

“Artemis! I did not expect to see you here.”

It was Ellen, the mayor’s daughter. Entreri turned to give her a smile. “I guess even us vicious killers have our soft side,” he managed.

She laughed at him. She did not believe the reports of his previous exploits, even when they came from his own mouth. “I don’t suppose you are here looking for new clothes.”

“Not quite,” he agreed. “Curtains are on the agenda for today. I was wondering if they have anything more… well, plain.”

Ellen laughed again. “I think they have some more ‘manly’ patterns back here.” She led Entreri to the corner of the store where there were some simple hatched patterns and a few solid prints. Entreri found something he could live with.

“Do you do your own sewing too?” she asked. Entreri looked confused. “Nancy’s is a great shop,” Ellen continued, “but she only sells the fabric. You need a seamstress to make your curtains.”

“I suppose you know the location of a good seamstress I can go to,” Entreri responded.

“I might,” she said coyly. “And I suppose I could show it to you, but only if you come over for dinner tonight.”

Would this ever end! Entreri let out a long sigh. “What is the occasion?”

“Nothing,” she replied. “It’s just that the first day of the week we usually have John over, and since he is out of town for a while, there will be an empty spot at the table.”

Entreri carefully weighed the task of finding his own seamstress and cooking for himself against following Ellen to another shop and then being congenial for an hour or so during dinner tonight. It was all about keeping up appearances. If he wanted to stay off the short list every time there was a murder in town, he was going to have to make a few sacrifices. He agreed.

* * * * *

The dinner was quiet for the most part. Jerithon tried to bring up topics that he thought would be interesting, but the mayor was used to talking with John or the members of the city counsel. The only thing he knew about Entreri was that he was a lethal killer. It was not quite dinner conversation. Entreri was not exactly helping matters, and most of his replies were as monosyllabic as possible. He did not want to be there.

Ellen broke the silence. “Do you know anything about goblins, Artemis?”

“A little,” he replied.

“Are they as dangerous as that ranger implied?”

“Not if they handle it correctly.”

Ellen waited for an elaboration, but none was forthcoming. “Do you think they will handle it correctly?”

Entreri put down his utensils and looked at the young woman. “How long has he been gone?” he asked, sensing the concern in her voice.

“Five days,” she responded.

“I think it takes them at least two days travel to get where they are going. Their business should take longer than a day, so he is not overdue. Do I think they will handle it correctly? I don’t know. Each situation is different. Elliorn has her wits about her, and as long as she does not underestimate her enemies, they should be fine.”

“Why didn’t you go?” she continued.

“I was working on my house,” he said carefully. Ellen was a fan of his, he knew that. And while he did not seek her favor, she was on the city counsel now and it would not hurt him to keep her favor. “Besides, I do not work well in the cold. I grew up in a dessert.”

“Which one, exactly,” Jerithon entered the conversation finally, happy that it was moving.

“Calimshan,” Entreri replied simply.

Jerithon frowned. “I don’t believe I’m familiar with that one.”

“No,” Entreri agreed, “I don’t suppose you are.”

This looked like the end of the conversation. Ellen tried to think of a different way to approach the subject of goblins, but she was interrupted when the door suddenly burst open. John stood in the entryway.

“John!” Ellen cried getting up from the table and running over to him.

“Captain,” Jerithon greeted him, also rising from the table. “How did it go? We did not expect you back this soon.”

“It was a massacre,” he said emotionlessly. He realized he needed to clarify for whom and continued. “I was the only one who escaped alive. The rest are dead or captured. The ranger walked us into an ambush.”

The rest of the room was speechless. John appreciated the lack of questions. “I am going back. I need 30 men at least. I will draft them if I don’t get enough volunteers. I’ll take an army up there and we will destroy every last one of the vile creatures. We were caught off guard. That will not happen again. With enough men I can-”

“No!” Entreri said boldly, standing up from his own chair and turning to face the captain. He had to do something now. John would rip this town apart to enact his vengeance. Entreri could not allow that. He liked it here. Already John’s absence had caused him some inconvenience at the lumber shop. If he took the rest of the guards and all the noble fighting men, this city would be cast into chaos and anarchy.

John had not seen Entreri in the room, but now looked at him with contempt. Not only had this man selfishly refused his services when John had first come to him, but here he was sitting in John’s chair. Before he could lash out at Entreri, the assassin spoke first.

“You and I will go back alone. Together we can do in stealth what you failed to do with force.”

“You pompous arrogant ass!” John screamed. “Who do you think you are? Elliorn was right. You don’t see things as they really are. Didn’t you hear a word of what I just said? Eleven fighting men – all dead save me. And it took them ten seconds to do it. What do you think you can do that we could not?”

Entreri was mad, but he did not have time to kill John right now, that could come later. Right now he needed to help him. “You did not listen to me either. Your goblins have themselves quite a bit of protection, don’t they? They are locked up tight in their caves and ready for intruders. They are doubly ready now. When you want to assassinate the king, do you take twenty men to go knock on the front door of the castle? No, you hire the silent assassin to slip over the wall at night and attack when everyone is sleeping. Trust me; I know.”

John was not happy. He wanted to kill or break something, but he knew Entreri was telling the truth. The goblins would out number them no matter how many men he took. And there were the giants. He did not know how to fight them straight up. They would have to be sneaky.

“Can you ride tonight?” Entreri asked. The captain looked dead tired, but he also had a look in his eye that Entreri understood well. John was a fighter. He could go all week without stopping.

“I need to change horses,” John said.

Entreri nodded and walked toward the door to pick up his coat and discarded weapons. “Please be careful,” Ellen said before Entreri left. He turned to look at her. “Please, bring him back alive.”

“We will be back in four days. I promise,” Entreri said with such confidence that Ellen believed him.

“I will be waiting.”

Entreri nodded and left.

Chapter 5

The Prisoner

Elliorn stumbled as she pushed the heavy cart up the steep incline. She heard the snap of a whip behind her, and she quickly straightened and continued. The cart was not too heavy for her, and she was not tired, but she was not going to escape unless her captures underestimated her. So far it had not mattered much. So far, she had been doing the underestimating.

As it turned out, these goblins were capable of forging their own metal. She had not seen much evidence of any production, but they were in the initial stages of something that had a lot of potential. The six guards and Elliorn had been added to the goblins’ already impressive collection of slaves. Elliorn was one of about a dozen women working in this makeshift mine. Half of them were resting, and the other half were working. There were about twice as many men. They worked with tools chopping away at the cave walls, prying lose the chunks of ore that the women then carted up into the smelting room.

The goblins had not searched Elliorn well. They had removed all the obvious weapons, but she still had two daggers, one strapped inside her thigh, and the other under her arm. If these were humans and not goblins, there was a good chance they would have tried to rape her by now, in which case, both weapons would have been found. She was thankful for the little things.

Even unarmed, Elliorn felt she could fight off a dozen goblins, but she was shackled to her cart and not offered much mobility. Also there were the giants. At least two stone giants stood watch over the workers at all times. In the three days she had been a slave, she had paid attention to the giants, and was pretty sure there were at least six of them.

She also listened to them talk. They spoke a version of the goblin tongue, and she understood most of it. Apparently there was another giant named Kron who ran everything. They spoke of him with fear, and Elliorn decided he must be much bigger than they were. Each of the stone giants topped out at about twelve feet, impressive enough, but Elliorn feared this Kron was bigger still.

The giants mostly watched the men work, letting the goblins handle the women. If only Elliorn could work with a pickaxe like the men, then she could do some damage. They had their legs shackled, making it hard to run, but they could still move about. Their fear of the giants kept them from trying anything though. Elliorn had fought giants before. Yes, they were strong, but they were very stupid.

Over by the wall, a loud rattling noise and a cry caught Elliorn’s attention. She turned to see that one of the men had loosed a high rock from the wall, and an unexpected cascade of rocks and dirt came down on him. It did not look too severe, but the man was howling in pain. Elliorn thought it was one of the guards, but she was not sure. She was pretty sure that he was faking it. Anything to get out of work.

The goblins all crowded around him, taking his pickaxe before he could get up. He just kept holding his head and moaning. The giant yelled for him to work in the common tongue, but the goblins chattered back that he would need to rest. They needed to replace him.

Elliorn saw her chance. She quickly straightened her posture and pushed her cart with vigor. She passed two women up the incline before a whip told her to stop. A few goblins came up to her and examined her size. She flexed her arms for them and her six-foot frame toward over them. They talked among themselves and nodded. They undid the chain that tied her to the cart and handed her the pickaxe.

“Dig,” one of them said, pointing at the wall.

Elliorn nodded dumbly, and they turned their backs on her. The first goblin did not even get a chance to cry as the ranger drove the tool into the back of its skull. The second goblin saw his partner fall and turned to catch the other point of the pickaxe under the chin. He managed a small yelp before what little brain he had came shooting out the back of his skull.

Elliorn stooped to pick up one of the goblins’ swords and prepared to meet the charge. There was none. There was at least two dozen goblins moving about, but she had killed these two so quickly and quietly that the alarm had not been sounded. It was not until one of the other women saw what Elliorn had done and screamed, that the goblins took action.

Two came at her, one from either side. The ranger easily blocked one attack with her short sword and drove the head of her other weapon into the goblin’s chest. The one from the other direction swung, but Elliorn stepped away from her kill, pulling the weapon back across her body and blasting in to the second goblin.

A cry from behind her spun her about just in time to impale a goblin that had leaped from a ledge. The sword was ripped out of her hand under the weight of the goblin, but she quickly picked up another. Two more goblins came at her. One flew away with its head exploded, and the other stumbled backwards with a gash in its neck.

The two giants were alerted now, and they flanked the ranger. She disposed of three more goblins as the giants approached. Unlike before, right after the avalanche, she saw the club coming down on her this time, and somersaulted forward. The crash behind her was tremendous, and she wondered how she had survived the previous attack. She came out of her roll by the giant’s legs and tried to slash its tendons, but his legs were trying to stomp her, and the goblin blade was not sharp enough anyway.

The second giant waited behind the first, and Elliorn foolishly tried to block the attack. Her pickaxe sunk deep into the wooden club, deflecting it away from her, but when the giant pulled his weapon back, the pickaxe went with it.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw two more goblins. Before either could strike, she sent her empty right hand out toward them. She wrenched a sword from one, and then backhanded with the same weapon across the doomed goblin’s neck. The second goblin thought it saw an opening and charged, but Elliorn’s second weapon came in, easily blowing away the attack and impaling the goblin. She pulled her weapon free and rolled away, just as a huge club turned the already dead goblin into paste.

She now found her back up against the wall where the men were working. They all just watched in stunned silence. Maybe if they would help this would be easier, she thought. The nearest giant swung again, but Elliorn saw it was not aimed at her, instead the club bashed against the loose stones above. A large chunk came free and Elliorn dove out of the way, colliding with one of the men who was also seeking cover.

Another crash from above told her to move again, but the man she had hit threw her to the ground as he scrambled for safety. She took a nasty hit on her side as the rocks came down, and as she hobbled up, she was thrown across the room from a well-aimed club. Her head smacked against a wall, and she blacked out again.

One of the giants picked up her limp form and looked at the dozen or so goblins she had killed. Six goblins waited around the giant’s feet for him to drop her so they could kill her, but he shook his head. “Lock this one up special,” he said. “Kron might use her.”

The goblins did as they were told.

* * * * *

Elliorn slowly shook the cobwebs from her head and tried to stand. She could not. Her hands were tied behind her around a stiff pole with her feet out in front of her. She had woken up like this before. Artemis. No, wait. She was no where near the assassin. She suddenly remembered her fight with the goblins and the unfortunate ending.

Her legs were still shackled together with a foot and a half chain. Upon closer inspection, she could feel that her hands were not tied, but also shackled with only about three inches of chain between her wrists. She could not push off with her hands on the ground, but she thought if she could pull her legs under her, she might be able to stand up. “Please remain seated.”

The voice was booming and she looked up – and up – at her host. He was sitting down cross-legged in front of her, and he was still nine feet tall. It was a frost giant. She had never seen one before but the pale skin and the voluminous white beard and hair were adequate enough for identification. She looked deep into his dark blue eyes and could see a fair amount of intelligence looking back at her. This would be Kron.

Elliorn also noticed that there was some type of glyph or ward scribbled on the floor between them. Was this giant a shaman of some kind? Unfortunately, it was well known that the bigger they got, often, the smarter they got.

“Now I am going to ask you a few questions,” Kron said slowly, pinching a small amount powder from a pouch on his side and tossing it on the symbol, “and I want you to tell me the truth.” The ward sparkled and shimmered as it absorbed the powder. “Trust me, I will know if you are lying.”

Elliorn nodded, searching her mind feverishly to see if she could remember this ward from somewhere. Wards were powerful, but they were also counterable. A true mage had his power within himself and to defeat him, you needed to counter his strength. A wards power was unchanging, and if you knew the way to diffuse it, a child could do it. Elliorn did not think she knew.

“What is your name?” Kron asked his first question.

“Elliorn Dysenetia,” she replied, not seeing any reason to lie yet.

“And what are you?”

“A woman,” she replied cleverly.

The frost giant grumbled. He might be smarter than the stone giants, but he was still no genius. “You killed a dozen goblins a few hours ago without breaking a sweat and with your legs shackled together. I don’t see to many of our male slaves attempting that. What are you?”

Elliorn thought with the clarification, her “woman” answer would not work this time, so she tried another one. “I am just a wife of one of th-” a bolt of electricity shot out from the truth ward and struck her in the chest. Her eyes rolled back in her head as sparks jumped between every conceivable location on her body. The pain lasted only a few seconds, but when it was done, she did not feel strong enough to even stand. The wound on her thigh had opened and screamed at her as her wrists and ankles burned from the electrified shackles.

“You were saying?” Kron prompted, a huge grin beneath his bushy beard.

“Ranger… I am… a ranger,” she panted.

“A ranger,” the giant struck a contemplative pose. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a female ranger before. I hear some of you like to specialize in killing certain types of ‘evil’ creatures. You would not happen to have any such specialty, would you?”

“I kill frost gia-” she started through gritted teeth before the ward shocked her again. Either the charge was weaker this time or Elliorn was ready for it because she managed to keep her convulsions to a minimum.

It was a combination of both, really, and Kron hastily sprinkled a liberal amount of powder over the ward, recharging it for several more blasts. “Stupid bitch,” he muttered. “You are supposed to learn from your mistakes. I don’t have that much of this, you know.”

Elliorn looked at the good-sized pouch on his waist and then glared hatefully at the giant. “Your bag is not big enough.”

The lie detector stayed quiet, and Kron took this to mean she was not bluffing. “Yes, I’m sure you are very brave, but after a few more shocks, your subconscious won’t let you lie. Now, why are you here?”

“Your goblins attacked a cabin and killed two men five miles north of the town where I was staying. I investigated and found you.”

“And what do you plan to do now?”

“I plan to escape and kill you,” she said plainly.

“I need an emissary,” Kron said, pretending to ignore that last comment. “I need someone I know the people will believe. If I let one of my other slaves go, they will run screaming back to this town of yours telling everyone about the horrible giants and numerous goblins. He will be sedated, restrained, and ignored. I need someone to bring my message of doom who will be listened to and obeyed.”

“You want me tell people you are here? What happened to the element of surprise?”

“I am not above murder,” he replied, “but it is much easier to pillage a town when no one is there. If the town is still full, then we take losses and they take losses. It is much easier for everyone involved if you just leave.”

“If you let me go, I will organize a resistance that will crush your little raiding party.”

“I have no doubt you will try,” Kron agreed, “but how many people will stand by you? I’m guessing most will run. As for any resistance you might put up, I could crush a score of men all by myself. Do you really think you can stop me?”

“I will stand over your beheaded body,” she said coldly.

Elliorn had been throwing around a lot of threats, and the ward had remained very quiet. Kron chuckled at her confidence. He stopped laughing suddenly and looked down at his chest. He pulled out a large medallion from within his vest, and Elliorn saw it was glowing. “It appears we have more visitors. Friends of yours?”

Elliorn did not know what he was talking about. “I need to attend to this,” he said, slowly getting up. I want you to sleep for now.”

“But-” Elliorn was cut off as the giant reached his left hand forward and clamped her head between his thumb and forefinger. The fingernail on his right index finger was sharpened to a point, and he scratched a quick symbol in her forehead. As he backed away, Elliorn suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to close her eyes. She tried to fight it. She even tried to lie out loud for a shock to keep her awake, but it was too late. Her head lolled to the side and she was out.

Chapter 6

The Assassin’s Credo

Entreri and John crouched behind an outcropping and looked down into the mountain pass. The remains of the landslide still lay where John had left them, and though it had snowed a little, the tracks of eleven people are not so easily covered.

“She led you in there?” Entreri could not believe it. Growing up as he did, the old assassin was cautious to a fault. He had tried to tone that done since he had entered this relatively peaceful land, but even he would not go down that pass, even if they were just goblins.

“You said there were giants on the ridge throwing stones at you,” Entreri said. “Which side were they on?”

John pointed to the ridge across from cave opening. “Up there, why?”

“If your tracks are still visible, theirs should be too. And unless they dug their way through that avalanche and then recovered it, I’m guessing there is another way in.”

John nodded at the sound observation. Why hadn’t Elliorn thought this way? She was the ranger and this man had grown up in a dessert. John had thought Entreri incredibly cocky and had stayed quiet during the 18-hour trip up to this spot, but he was slowly relaxing. Maybe Entreri was as good as he thought. Even knowing what John did about what they were going to face, he felt more confident now than he had three days ago.

They moved quietly and quickly. Entreri was wearing a cream colored cloak over his winter coat that was reversible to black. He had picked it up before they had left town. His normal black look worked well in a dark alley, but in the snow-covered wilderness, it stuck out like sore thumb. Entreri had to caution himself to move slowly. He could run quite easily over the uneven terrain, but John could not. The limp aside, the captain was still wearing the armor that had saved his life during the avalanche. The attire did not promote dexterity.

The tracks were right where they were supposed to be. They led off in the direction they were already going and from the terrain, Entreri guessed they hooked around to the left and back toward the pass below. If the pass did flow with water in the spring, it had probably carved out more than one opening into the hollow mountain.

John started after the tracks, but Entreri held him back. “What is it?”

Entreri responded by pointing to a distant peak. “Over there.”

John strained his eyes, desperately wanting to see what this sharp-eyed assassin had picked out. “I can’t see anything,” he huffed in frustration.

“Neither can I,” Entreri said, surprising John.

“Then why-”

“If I was going to ambush us, that is where I’d be hiding. It looks like these tracks loop around and pass right beneath that peak. It is probably where the other entrance is.”

“But you are just guessing, right?”

“If you can see your enemies when they aren’t there, you will always see them when they are there.” As Entreri said it, he imagined himself as Pasha Basadoni instructing a young, but very talented thief. John was not young or a thief, and the similarity ended with the words, but it still brought back fond memories.

“Is that part of the assassin’s credo?” John asked sarcastically.

“It’s rule number one,” Entreri replied.

“And what is rule number two?”

“If you are with a dangerous assassin in a life or death situation, never make fun of his credo.” Entreri looked seriously at John. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“We go backwards. We can cross the pass one of two ways. We can follow these tracks and cross it up ahead where they are waiting for us, or we can backtrack and loop around behind them.”

“But you don’t even know if they are there. How do you know we’ve been spotted?”

“You followed the ranger into a trap because she did not see it coming. I too do not see anything, but I am not going to repeat her mistake by walking blindly forward. If we loop around and find nothing, then we will have wasted an hour, but we will be alive.”

John shrugged and set out after Entreri. “There won’t be anyone there,” he muttered to himself. He was wrong.

An hour later, John and Entreri were looking down at the backsides of two stone giants. They were waiting in a depression that looked like a castle battlement, totally oblivious to the men behind them. They had been told that the intruders would be coming from south, and that was the only place they looked. Entreri appreciated their location. Despite the giants’ size, they were totally invisible from every direction but above.

John and Entreri had come from the northeast and slowly skirted to the north so they were directly behind the two giants. “Now what?”

Now we kill them, Entreri thought. How would John not know that? Entreri looked at John and understood. The man had not slept in over 48 hours. They had eaten very little during their trip over here and John was beat.

The captain was a fighter, but he was not in a condition to go up against giants right now. Entreri thought of taking care of them himself, but he had a better idea. He reached into his cloak and pulled out his jeweled dagger. “I am going to kill the one on the right, and while-”

“Just like that,” John interrupted. “You are just going to kill him.”

“Yes,” Entreri did not elaborate. “When I do, the one on the left will be mad and try to crush me. While I have him distracted, stab him in the thigh with this.” Entreri handed John his dagger.

The captain looked at the small weapon. “I have my own blade, and something that small won-”

“Please trust me,” Entreri said. John took the dagger. “Stab him with it and then hold on.”

Entreri pulled Cicle, his frost blade, out of its sheath and prepared to attack. He paused and turned to John. “Oh, and remember, these creatures killed your men.”

A fire went on in John’s eyes, and he glared back at the assassin. “I don’t need motivation,” he nearly growled.

At least, not anymore, Entreri thought to himself. Entreri turned back to the giants, crept up onto the edge of their parapet, and leaped. Cicle was held tightly in both hands, and he plunged it into the back of one of the giants. The cry was deafening. The stone giant leaped into the air and threw Entreri off his back, but the sword stayed put. The pain of the stab was nothing compared to the intense chill that swept through him as the frost blade soaked up his body heat.

The huge creature bent around in an assortment of positions, trying to get his clumsy arms to reach the buried hilt, but Entreri had placed it well. While the doomed giant clawed hopelessly at his back, the other one moved to crush Entreri who was just rolling to his feet. The giant heaved a huge stone above his head and hurled it at the tiny assassin. Entreri knew not to dodge until after the rock had been thrown because stone giants were well known for making last minute adjustments. The rock exploded into powder right at Entreri’s heels.

John knew his part. He was still confused as to what Entreri had done. The wound in the first giant’s back definitely hurt the creature, but he doubted a weapon that small would kill it. Regardless, he jumped down to the level of the giants and charged the second one from behind. The jeweled dagger sunk easily into the giant’s leg. In a jolt of power, energy rushed into him, and the comment Entreri had made about holding on made perfect sense.

The giant howled in rage, again exhibiting more pain than a weapon of the dagger’s size should be able to inflict on a creature this big. The giant kicked back with his leg and John went flying. His back hit hard against the stone wall that enclosed this battlement, but he popped right back up. He tossed the dagger aside and drew his sword. His weariness was gone, and he felt as strong as ever. His bum leg even felt fine.

The giant no longer held a stone, but it was mad enough to not need one. It was going to crush this human with its hands. John stepped up and swung and the crouching giant, keeping the huge arms at bay. The giant saw the sword, and pulled back in time, thinking to attack between swings. John did not let him. As his sword swung through the vacated area, he turned completely around, inviting a charge, and completed the 360 by chopping at the giant’s forward leg.

The giant was not ready to dodge that, and his leg was sheared in two, right above the knee. John had already expected the hit and was sidestepping as the giant fell forward, howling in pain. John swung again, taking the creature’s head before it had even hit the ground. He grunted with satisfaction and looked to see how Entreri was doing with his kill.

The assassin was dancing about the giant whose stumbling attempts to kick Entreri were laughable. The behemoth looked drunk, as his movements became more and more lethargic. Entreri taunted him all the while, which made the giant even more determined and his efforts look even more pathetic. Finally the giant fell to the ground, too weak to stand anymore. John watched as the giant’s skin became suddenly pale and his movements stopped. Finally a large crackling sound came from the dying giant, and all was quiet.

Entreri climbed on top of his kill and removed his weapon. It slid free with the sound of metal scraping against stone. He quickly sheathed the dangerous weapon. Entreri looked over at John’s kill and smiled. “Nice job.”

“Is he…” John asked, looking at Entreri’s work.

“Frozen?” Entreri replied. “Yes, he is.” John had heard about what Entreri had done to Reillon, Quinton’s mage, but he had thought Ellen was just exaggerating. Entreri walked over to pick up his dagger where John had dropped it and stowed it in his vest again. “If you can’t take the cold,” he said, “you shouldn’t be playing in the snow.”

“Is that another one of your assassin rules?” John asked.

Entreri walked over to the edge of the rocky alcove where the giants had been waiting for them. “No,” he replied, not dignifying the question with a full response. “Here is the back door.”

The two men slowly and carefully climbed down the sides of the cliff and looked at the cave. It was much bigger than the one Elliorn had found. This one was over twenty feet tall. They both walked slowly into the opening. Entreri did not like it. The two giants should not have been easy kills, but they had caught them off guard. Even if they had avoided the ambush in the more traditional way, Entreri still thought this entry was a bit unguarded.

He motioned for John to stay back as he quietly crept forward. He suddenly stopped. A sense of dread and terror flooded through him. Something was wrong. He tried to take a step backward, but his balance suddenly failed him and he fell. NO!!! his mind screamed out to him. He pushed himself up to his knees and vaguely heard John calling out to him. He could not understand the words, and when he turned to look, he saw John topple down beside him. Entreri’s mind tried one more time to straighten things out, but he collapsed and remained still.

The two men lay motionless on the snowy cave floor as a very large shadow covered them. Kron came in from the outside. He had found two of his valuable stone giants killed up above, and was not happy. One of them was frozen solid and the other was in three pieces. He smiled as he saw the two killers lying motionless within the cave entrance. The snow had covered up the ward on the stone floor very efficiently and these two had walked right over it. They might have been clever, but Kron was still in control. Plus, if Elliorn did not want to be his emissary, he was sure one of these two would do.

Chapter 7

The Reunion

“Wake up. Come on, wake up.”

Entreri slowly opened his eyes. His memory was foggy and he could not readily figure out where he was. He was sitting down with his hand behind him. The floor was hard and cold. The cave! He was in the cave. How did he get here?

He slowly reached out with his hands and felt something. It was soft and round, yet slightly firm…

“If my hands were not shackled, I would slap you for that.”

That voice. He had heard that voice before. It was spoken in a whisper, but he knew it, and not just from before when it had told him to wake up.

“In other words stop.”

Entreri quickly pulled his hand back as far as he could but they hit something hard. It was the same thing he was leaning against. It was a stalagmite. He was in a cave, shackled to a stalagmite with…

“So are you awake now, or do you grope people in their sleep?”

Elliorn. He was tied to a stalagmite with Elliorn. “I’m awake,” he whispered back, disguising his voice a little. “And I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it. What are the goblins doing?”

Goblins? Entreri picked his head up and looked around the room. He was facing the main part of the cavern while Elliorn was facing the wall. On the opposite side of the cavern, fifty feet away were two goblins supposedly keeping watch over the prisoners. They were playing a game of bones. Entreri chuckled. The idea that two goblins could watch over him, or Elliorn for that matter, was ridiculous.

“They are playing a game,” Entreri responded to the almost forgotten question. “They are not looking at us.”

“Good,” she replied. “My name is Elliorn. I am a ranger. If you help me, we can get out of here. What’s your name?”

“Regis,” he whispered back, “I am a-” Entreri choked on his words as a charge of electricity leaped out of the floor in front of him. He was not ready for it and nearly bit his tongue off as his muscles convulsed. It lasted only briefly, but Entreri was panting heavily afterwards, suddenly weak.

“Regis, is it?” Elliorn said slyly, and Entreri knew she knew what had happened. Now that his eyes were adjusting better, he could see the ward on the floor. He recognized it and understood Elliorn had probably been interrogated in front of it. This spoke of someone a lot more powerful than a stone giant calling the shots. This also explained what had knocked he and John out when they had entered the cave. He had avoided one trap to walk into another one.

“What is your real name?” she asked.

“I’d rather not say,” Entreri replied after a moment of thought.

Elliorn waited a while after the comment. “I’ll assume your telling me the truth. What are you doing here? Did you try to escape?”

“I came back with John,” he replied.

“Back?”

Entreri quickly explained how John had returned and how the two of them had killed the two stone giants before walking into the cave. “You killed two of them?” Elliorn sounded impressed. Whatever this man’s name, she guessed he was the same man John had originally asked to come along. She would have expected John, with his mentality, to come back with an army. If this man had changed his mind and orchestrated the death of two stone giants, for she did not think John had enough knowledge to do so, he was formidable.

“There are at least four stone giants left,” she said, “and one frost giant named Kron.”

Entreri swore.

“You know what a frost giant is?” she sounded surprised. Entreri had also correctly identified the giants as stone giants, something a simple fighter in these parts should not know.

“I’ve read about them,” Entreri replied. The ward stayed quiet. “What bothers me is that the stone giants were waiting for us. They knew we were coming.”

“I imagine Kron has this entire mountain range covered with wards to alert him when someone draws near.” She quickly filled Entreri in on the rest concerning the slaves and about how many goblins she guessed there to be. “We need to get the attention of the goblins,” Elliorn said when she was done with her dissertation.

“Why,” he replied. “They are ignoring us. We have a better chance without gaining their attention.”

“They have the keys to our shackles. Unless you beat those giants because of your supreme strength and can break free, I suggest getting the keys.”

“I did not beat them with strength,” Entreri replied, dragging his chin across his chest several times until he caught the chain he wore around his neck. “I beat them with cunning.”

Pasha Basadoni had locked him up far better than this many times. It was not because the young thief had been disobedient, at least not usually, but because he wanted to teach his prodigy escape skills. Entreri was very good. So good, that when the pasha needed to punish him for real, it became very difficult.

The chain he wore around his neck held a collection of lock picks. He slowly worked the chain off his chin and into his mouth. He then used his tongue and teeth to work the necklace around until he came to the clasp. Undoing the clasp with his teeth was the hardest part, but he had practiced it many times. It had been quite a while since Entreri had found the skill necessary. He managed on the second try. Holding the end of the chain in his teeth with the length hanging in front of him, he shook his head so it swung over his shoulder. In the process, the chain smacked quietly against the stalagmite.

“What are you doing?” Elliorn asked. She had listened intently to the strange noises this man was making and felt the chain sweep against her hair.

“I’m getting out of here,” he said as dropped the chain and caught it with his waiting hand. After that it was only a matter of seconds before his hands were free. He leaned forward and undid his leg shackles as well.

Elliorn felt his pressence disappear from the stalagmite. “How?” she asked a bit too loudly. She had been locked up for almost a day. It had taken this man a minute to free himself.

“Shhhh,” Entreri scolded. “We don’t want to get the attention of the goblins, remember.” He had already felt that he still had his daggers. Besides the magical one, he wore two others. They had taken Cicle and his normal dirk, but goblins were not known for their thoroughness.

Neither of the goblins was looking at him, and Entreri crept away from the stalagmite. He had the broadside of a back to aim for, but the other goblin was turned to its side. He buried the first dagger in the goblin’s back from forty feet. The other one turned to face him, and Entreri put his second dagger in its chest. They were both dead without making a sound.

Elliorn’s sharp ears guessed what had happened, and she spoke up. “Now get me out of here and we can escape.”

Entreri ran over to the goblins with his jeweled dagger out, hoping one of them would still be partially alive so he could regain some strength. Neither of them was. “Damn my aim,” he said under his breath. He took the keys and his daggers and raced back over to Elliorn. When he got there he paused. He had the keys in one hand and his jeweled dagger in the other. He had a choice.

He had fought side-by-side with Drizzt on numerous occasions, but they had always parted ways afterwards. Entreri had a hunch Elliorn would not be so inclined. She probably would not even let him get out of this cavern. Or at least she would try to keep him here. He could not risk it. Besides, he was weak from the electricity bolt. He knelt behind her with the dagger more prominently held.

“Well hurry up,” she hissed, “we have not got all day.”

If John found the body, Entreri could blame it on goblins. But John was smart. In fact, he had wielded Entreri’s dagger already. He would be able to tell the wound in her back was not from a goblin weapon. There were not too many weapons in this whole cave complex that would make a similar wound to the one his dagger would leave. Plus John knew about Entreri’s relationship with the ranger. He would just have to make the wound look messy.

“Wait,” Elliorn said a moment before Entreri was going to thrust his dagger forward, “someone is coming.”

Entreri prided himself in his hearing, and strained to listen to these phantom sounds. He was about willing to admit the ranger had better hearing than he did, but he glanced down at her hands and saw her fingertips lightly resting on the ground. She could feel them coming. “Quick,” she said, “hide.”

Entreri spun about and raced back to the other side of the room. He realized he was still holding the keys, and tossed them on the dead bodies of the goblins. There were two exits and Entreri picked one that led away from the noise he could now hear.

“Wait,” Elliorn almost cried out, “leave the keys.” She used her feet to spin herself around so she was facing the main cavern. By the time she faced the right direction, the room was already empty save for the dead goblins. Her keen eyes could see the keys lying next to them. “Did he even bring them over here?” she asked herself.

The noise of the approaching troupe caught her attention and she quickly snagged the empty leg shackles, pulling them toward her to hide them. Four goblins entered the room a moment later. John was with them.

* * * * *

Entreri ran silently down the tunnel. He saw a little extra light coming from ahead and paused. There were some torches hanging from the wall in various locations, and Entreri took a moment to study them. They were lit, but did not produce any heat. When he saw the glyph scribed in the wall behind each torch he understood. This was more work from the shaman frost giant. Entreri thought he remembered Elliorn calling him Kron.

Entreri crept down the hall and saw that the extra light was coming from a large cavern. Peeking inside he saw weapons. A lot of weapons. He also saw one lone goblin standing with his back turned to the entry. Entreri slowly and quietly walked into the room, a throwing dagger ready in case the goblin turned around. It did not. In fact, it did not move at all. It stood as if frozen in place.

Entreri stopped his slinking approach and walked right up to the creature. He could not hold in his laughter. The now dead goblin had both hands wrapped around Cicle’s blade with its tongue firmly attached to the end of the rapier. They had taken his weapons, and on examining Cicle, the stupid goblin had an impulse to lick the cold blade. Entreri was only mad he had missed the show. The doomed creature could not very well put his tongue back in his mouth unless the goblin was a sword swallower, so it had grabbed onto the blade with its hands to pull it free. With that much skin in contact, it probably had not taken long for the goblin to freeze.

Its buddies had probably started laughing, but then fled in terror when they realized what had happened. His dirk was here too, lying on a table. He saw John’s sword lying on the table as well. Leaning against the wall were all the guards’ swords. They were too big for the goblins to wield and too small for the giants. Entreri also saw a very familiar staff and bow.

Entreri just took his weapons. He carefully slid Cicle out of the goblin’s hands, not wanting to disturb the comedic statue. He found the scabbard on the floor next to the goblin and quickly strapped it and his dirk to his waist. He liked to carry both weapons still though he rarely wielded them together. Unlike his dark elf friend, he did not feel comfortable using to equal length swords. He carried the dirk because Cicle was too dangerous to use for simple tasks. “Like if I ever want to clean my tongue,” Entreri thought to himself.

The next room was full. Over a dozen goblins milled about. Some sat at tables playing games while others just paced about the room. Entreri saw that there were three exists from this room beside the one he was standing in. Down one he could see bedrolls and figured this is where they kept the slaves on the off shifts. The other two were darkened and were just corridors similar to the ones he had already come down that lead to different sections of the complex.

Entreri took a deep breath and walked quickly into the room, killing three goblins before the alarm was sounded. The creatures ran to him in a mass, and Entreri hacked them to pieces. He was taller then they were, and they foolishly raised their weapons to attack him while his legs were by far their best targets. With his weapons up, each strike he made against them was in their face or across their necks. Each goblin only needed one strike from the accurate assassin and they were either dead in seconds or fell away to die slowly gripping a horrid facial wound.

The last goblin turned to run and Entreri caught him in the back with a thrown dagger. He walked over the carnage to pull his dagger from the final kill, and sucked the last bit of energy out of the creature. There was not much life energy in the creatures to begin with, but Entreri had made enough hits with his dagger to negate the ill effects he had been feeling from the electric lie detector.

He now took a moment to contemplate his choices. He ignored the bunkroom for now. He could come back for them if he needed to. Instead he looked at the other two passageways. One led down and was only about thirteen feet tall. The other led up and was definitely big enough for a frost giant. Entreri had a score to settle. He went up.

The tunnel climbed gradually for a hundred yards and then came to a series of large stairs leading back down. There were smaller steps carved for the goblins to the side, and a large archway leading into another vast cavern at the bottom. Entreri skipped quickly down the goblin steps, and barely caught himself in time as he saw more wards scribbled on the steps and walls. He recognized them as fireballs, lightening strikes, poison blasts, and a few other nasty spells. He also noticed that they were only warded against humans. The goblins and giants could pass freely.

Entreri did not have to disarm them all. He spent a long minute examining their locations. He took a deep breath, made sure his weapons were secure and leaped forward. He rolled, jumped, skipped, and ran through the last fifteen steps as he avoided half of the wards, and triggered the rest. He hit the final step and jumped hard, diving forward as the last fireball exploded behind him.

He slowly got up and let out a long sigh of relief. The sigh got stuck in his throat as he looked around the new chamber. It was the dinning room and it was full. He had made quite the commotion coming down the stairs, and well over two dozen goblins were not happy about having their meals interrupted.

Entreri drew his weapons and attacked.

Chapter 8

The Rescue

The four goblins that led John into Elliorn’s cavern stopped short when they saw the two dead guards. They argued among themselves, but did not seem too concerned about it. One of them picked up the keys, and they led John over to Elliorn.

Unlike “Regis,” Elliorn saw that John was conscious. Regis had been small enough to carry in, but John was not. Even though he was shackled, he still should have been able to handle four goblins. Elliorn looked closer and saw that John was beat. She was not sure how he had escaped the first attack a few days ago, but in order to get back to Garrilport and then here again in the time that had passed, she was guessing he did not get much sleep.

As the goblins approached, she formed a plan and spoke to them in their own language. “The other prisoner has escaped and killed those guards,” she said harshly. “Kron will be very upset with you!”

The goblins looked at her in bewilderment. How did this simple woman know their language?

“I am not a prisoner,” she replied to their puzzled faces. “I work for Kron. He has ordered me to watch over you. I will report that you have failed.”

“No, no, no, we not fail,” one of them squeaked. “The other one has not escaped. We have captured him aga-” the floor came alive and zapped the goblin where he stood.

“You lie!” Elliorn cried, making it look like she had brought forth the lightening. “You do not honor or respect Kron. Give your allegiance now!”

The other three goblins looked at their partner as he writhed in pain on the floor. They all fell to their knees. “We honor Kron. We respect Kron.” With each litany of devotion, the ward on the floor lashed out at them. Kron’s last sprinkling of activation powder had been a generous one and there was plenty of lightening to go around.

John just watched dumbfounded. “Do not just stand there,” she cried at him, now in the common tongue. “Get the one with the keys.”

John did as he was told, picking up the squirming creature as it called out for mercy. He pinned it against the wall with his shackled hands, the chain between his wrists strangling the goblin. It squirmed for a while, but John added pressure and the goblin went limp.

Behind him, one of the other goblins was dead, and the remaining two were terror stricken. The truth ward was spent, but it had done its purpose. “Leave!” Elliorn shouted, once again in the goblin tongue. “Leave and hope I do not report your unfaithfulness to our master.”

The goblins bowed repeatedly and limped away, their muscles still spasming from the electric shocks. “What was that about?” John asked as he crouched to release Elliorn with the keys.

“Never mind that,” she replied. “How are you feeling?”

“Never better,” John grinned. “I do this kind of thing all the time.”

“Your partner was here,” Elliorn said casually, trying to catch John off guard.

“My partner?”

“Yea,” she replied. “The guy you brought from town.”

“Oh, Art…thur,” he said, catching himself at the last second.

“Arthur?”

“Yea,” John agreed, happily she had apparently not noticed his slip up. She had. “Where is he?”

“He let himself out,” she said, “though he did not invite me along.”

“How recently?”

“Just a few moments before you came in,” Elliorn answered. “He is not too far ahead. If he runs into anymore goblins he might need help.”

Elliorn and John moved slowly out of the room. Elliorn wanted to move quickly, but John was not able to. The first room they came to was the weapon room. Unlike Entreri, Elliorn walked up quickly behind the stationary goblin. She crossed the room in four long steps and grabbed the creature from behind, twisting its head in a quick motion to break its neck. It broke – clean off. Elliorn took a stunned step backwards holding the frozen head. She did not hold it long, dropping it to the floor. It broke into several pieces.

The frozen statue had thawed a bit since Entreri had pulled his sword free, so the head did not shatter. Elliorn walked around the still standing body, noticing the position of the hands. She gave it a little shove. It rocked backwards and broke apart on the floor.

Elliorn turned to look at John who eyed the frozen goblin curiously. “Have you ever seen anything like that?” she asked.

“No,” John replied unconvincingly.

Elliorn wished she still had the truth ward at her disposal, but she would not press John right now. She had her hunches, and if she was right, she would find more evidence soon enough. Right now she turned to look at the weapons. She picked hers out and was happy to find her pack as well. She fished through her bag and pulled out two vials of blue liquid.

“John,” she called to get his attention, “drink this.” She set one of the vials on the table next to his sword.

John picked up the vial and undid the stopper. The liquid smelled sweet, and he drank it quickly. The effect was immediate. Strength returned to his limbs with as much force as Entreri’s dagger had recharged him earlier. He could feel that this was permanent. He watched as Elliorn drank half of the second vial and then gave him the rest. He downed it as well and then picked up his sword. It had never felt lighter.

“Let’s find some goblins,” he said, the fire back in his eyes and voice. The pair continued down the next hall and did exactly that. Unfortunately for John, they were all already dead. John was stunned at the carnage. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” It was his turn to ask the question.

Elliorn chose not to lie. “Yes, once, and only once.” She thought of the bodies she had examined in Karenstoch. She tried to keep her mind on the present task at hand, but as she looked at the wounds, she could not help but think of Entreri. Saber, dagger, saber, saber, dagger, dagger, saber. With each saber slash, the wound was seared shut with a telltale line of frost.

“Your friend Arthur is quite handy. Interesting sword too.”

“You think he did this?” John asked.

“Who else? He had to have come this way. Who is he?”

“Like I said before we left town, I don’t really know.” And as John looked at the torn bodies of the goblins around him, he had to admit that he really did not.

Elliorn saw the bunkroom off to the side and was not surprised to find them all sleeping. There had probably been quiet a ruckus when Regis/Arthur had cleaned out this room, but Elliorn saw yet another ward by the entrance to the door that would have deadened the noise. They wanted their slaves well rested to work.

“We will leave them for now,” Elliorn said. “We need to get the rest of the slaves out of here and to safety before Arthur stirs up too much trouble elsewhere.”

John nodded and followed Elliorn out of the room. She went through the corridor that went down. She knew where the slaves were working. The heat rolling up from the smelting room was intense. Elliorn paused before going around the last turn that would bring them into the room. Quietly she laid out the floor plan as best she could and stressed certain strategies.

“It is a fairly long corridor down to where the rest of the slaves are digging and they will not likely hear anything that goes on up here. I will try to make sure none of the goblins escape down the corridor. You try to protect the women and kill as many goblins as you can. We can not let any escape through this entrance either or they might kill the slaves back in the bunkroom.”

John nodded slowly after each point, letting Elliorn know he understood. “Let’s go,” he said anxiously when she was done. They both ran around the corner. Elliorn stopped short and pulled out her bow while John charged in with his sword. They definitely had the element of surprise on their side. Plus, the room was so full of melting pots and anvil stations, that each area was blocked from view from most of the others. This meant it was difficult for all the goblins to know what was going on.

The ones directing the women pushing carts were the first to go. There were four goblins with whips standing at the mouth of the corridor down to the mining area, but four quick snaps of Elliorn’s bow ensured that none of them would ever crack a whip again. There were about four other goblins working to usher the carts through the receiving area where the contents were dumped into troughs and separated. Elliorn quickly put those goblins down as well, and then flung her bow into a vacant corner of the room before she exhausted her supply of arrows. She could collect them later.

She pulled her staff off her back and stepped past the flow of carts to meet two more goblins that had noticed her intrusion. She dispatched them quickly. She then turned to the frightened women. She picked the strongest one and told her to wait by the end of the corridor and instruct the rest of the women to go up the other tunnel and wait in the bunkroom. The ranger found a set of keys on one of the dead goblins and let the women release themselves. She then went hunting for more goblins.

John had taken a different route. He ran away from the other corridor and used the dumping area for cover as he followed the flow of heat to the main part of the room. There were five goblins working one of the fires, all with their backs turned to him. With one sweep of his sword, each of the goblins was now feeding the fire more directly. There were fifteen other goblins working the three remaining melting pits, and they all rushed him. Some held swords and others chose to wield red-hot pokers.

John braced himself for their attack, but they did not rush in like so many in the past had done. Instead, they slowly started to surround him. John tried to disrupt their efforts by leaping at them with his sword leading, but they were too composed and confident to fall for his wild antics. Instead they backed away and continued to surround him.

John did not let the trap close on him, and bolted between two of the fire pits. He saw this was a mistake when the goblins split into three groups to circle around the two pits and stay behind him. In a second he would be pinned against the far wall with goblins on every side. He looked above him and saw a low pulley system that was used to carry buckets of coal from one side of the cavern to the other.

John turned about suddenly, swinging his sword, not at the goblins, but at the two release levers on either side of the huge melting pots. As the cauldrons lost their stability and began to tip, John leaped up and grabbed a hold of one of the buckets on the pulley, praying it would support his weight. It did and he swung over the collected mass of goblins just as the molten metal poured down all around them.

The poor goblins could not even cry out before there were consumed, their bodies evaporating from the intense heat. John continued to swing past the remaining two melting pits and let go in the middle of four confused goblins. Their confusion only lasted as long as their lives, which did not last long either.

He saw another goblin running away from him, and he gave chase. The goblin rounded a blind corner, and then cried out. John slowed when he got to the corner, and met Elliorn coming around hard. She stopped when she saw John. “Clear from your end?”

John was panting heavily, his face flush from the heat. “Clear,” he nodded.

“Good,” she replied. “We need to go down below before they get curious as to why none of their carts are returning.”

John followed her again as she led him down the second tunnel. Again she paused before the entered. “There will be two giants in this next room. If you keep the goblins off me, I will take care of the giants, or at least bring them down so you can handle them easily.”

“How?” John asked.

Elliorn had retrieved her bow as well as most of her arrows. She hoisted her bow up in front of her. “They are the biggest targets I’ve ever seen.”

“Right,” John agreed, “let’s do this.”

There were not as many goblins in this cavern, but they had already grown suspicious as to the disappearances of their carts and had all huddled around the exit to the tunnel. John came through first, his two-handed sword swinging wildly in front of him. The goblins scattered backwards and Elliorn moved in behind John. The two stone giants saw what was going on and move to engage the two invaders.

Elliorn worked her bow calmly as John tore into the goblins around her. Her first shot took the lead giant in the eye. He cried out and her second and third arrows found the inside of his mouth. A stone giant’s jugular was as big as a human leg, and the best access was through the inside of the throat. Both of her second and third arrows struck their intended veins on either side of the giant’s mouth and the huge creature went down in pain, blood pouring out of its mouth.

The second giant watched in horror as his partner fell to the ground and as the ranger’s deadly bow was turned on him. He futilely tried to cover himself up with his hands and arms, protecting most of his face. Elliorn thanked him by placing two well-aimed shots in his crotch. He doubled over quickly, his hands falling away from his face and giving Elliorn a more deadly target. Maybe not as fun, but more deadly. She had been clubbed by two of these giants, and since she did not know which they were, she would just have to take her anger out on all of them.

After she had put five arrows in the second giant’s face, she put her bow aside and pulled her sword. John was too close for her to use her staff effectively. John had already cleared away most of the goblin fodder. They had the high ground and it was easily defended with a sword as long as most of the goblins were tall. Elliorn helped him put away the remaining goblins and then moved down to get rid of the giants.

When John and Elliorn got down to the giants, the huge creatures were barely recognizable. Unlike before when Elliorn had made her attacks, this time the men slaves decided to help. They had gone to work on the giants’ heads with their pickaxes. All that was left when Elliorn and John got there was a bloody mess.

“It’s about time you came for us,” one of the men said to John. He was one of the guards that had survived.

John was happy to see that not all of his men had perished. “You’re welcome,” John said, embracing the man and several others he recognized. “We need to get you guys out of here.” They took yet another set of keys off one of the goblins and hurried back up the two corridors to the bunkroom.

Everyone was awake by now and John took charge. He led them all to the weapon room, and his guards rearmed themselves. He was about to lead them all out of the caverns when he noticed Elliorn was not with them. He gave two of his most trusted men orders to lead the group of former slaves out of the caves and back to the town as quickly as possible. He would be along behind them.

John ran back down the tunnel to the cavern with the dead goblins just outside of the bunkroom. Elliorn was there standing in front of the tunnel they did not take. It was the tunnel that led up. “This is the way that Arthur, or whatever his name is, went,” she said once she heard John enter. She turned to look at him. “Also there are at least two more giants in here somewhere and there has to be more goblins than what we came across.”

John motioned toward the tunnel. “Lead on.”

The two moved quickly down the tunnel and soon came upon the steps down. They moved more slowly now, seeing that the end of the steps led to another open cavern. Elliorn would not have seen the wards if it were not for the numerous scorch marks covering the walls at the bottom of the staircase. Carefully she and John worked their way around them. The fact that half of them had already been set off made it easier. That fact also let both of them know that Entreri had been through here as well. Not seeing a body on the steps, they had to assume he made it to face whatever waited for him in the next room.

John made it to the last step first and walked the short landing into the next room. He could not believe what he saw. Elliorn walked up behind him and froze as well. “Ehlonna have mercy,” she breathed.

Chapter 9

The Frost Giant

Entreri ran up the steps with a slight spring in his step. He needed the spring too because each step was two feet tall.

As he left the bodies scattered about in the room behind him, it was nice to know he had not lost it. Granted, since they had been eating and supposedly well protected with wards and spells, none of the goblins had been armed, and the most anyone came at him with was a steak knife. Still, there had been an awful lot of them. He had made as many killing blows as possible with his dagger, trying to regain as much energy as he could.

There had been several different chambers and corridors leading away from the mess hall, but only one of those led up. Entreri wanted to go up. That was where Kron would be. Entreri had not enjoyed waking up shackled to a piece of limestone. And like the Entreri of old, he planned on repaying any slight against him tenfold.

At the top of the steps was a small anti-room. Well, it was designed for giants, so small was a relative term, but it was not very elaborate. There were three rooms and one more corridor connected to the room. If Elliorn had been right, there would be two giants for each room. Entreri hoped he would not have to fight four of them. “Everyone look alive,” he spoke up into the rooms. “You have company.”

Two stone giants came out of opposite rooms rubbing sleep out of their eyes. When they saw Entreri, they woke up quick enough. They each reached for their huge clubs and came on the attack.

While Entreri waited for them to get close, he thought that if he ever lost access to his treasure cave and needed money fast, he would start a blacksmith shop that specialized in making oversized weapons for giants. He might not have a very big clientele, but he would be providing them with a service they most definitely needed.

The two giants ran right up to Entreri and attacked. They were each over twice as tall as the assassin and they each weighed over six times as much, but they never really had a chance.

Entreri dove to the side as both clubs smashed into the ground behind him. He rolled behind one of the two giants and jabbed his dagger deep into the back of his knee. That leg buckled as planned, and Entreri stepped on the sloped calf as he swiped Cicle up between the giant’s legs. The behemoth doubled over and Entreri continued to climb up his back like a flight of stairs. He hooked Cicle around the giant’s neck and thrust his dagger into the small of his back.

This sudden pain was well placed and made the giant straighten up quickly, throwing the assassin off his back. Entreri used the strength he stole from his dagger to keep his other arm locked and used the momentum given him from the sudden whiplash to pull Cicle hard across the giant’s neck. The cut was too deep and severe for the frost blade to sear shut, and blood poured from the mortal wound. That giant was done fighting.

The other giant had barely registered that his first attack had missed while he watched his partner suddenly fall to the floor, his hands clawing at the gaping wound in his neck. The remaining giant watched Entreri fly across the room and hit hard against the far wall. The little man popped right back up as if he had enjoyed the collision. He waived both his weapons in front of him and smiled.

The giant saw the unique style and bent down to pick up his partner’s dropped club so he too held multiple weapons. Entreri walked slowly toward the dual-wielding giant, making himself as plain a target as he could. The giant took the bait and swung both his clubs in from the side, meaning to squash Entreri between them. The assassin just took one more step forward and the two clubs crashed together behind him, stunning the giant’s arms and forcing him to drop both of them.

Entreri moved quickly while the giant was still stunned from his own self-inflicted parry. He placed one foot inside the right kneecap and plunged Cicle into the large gut in front of his face. He pushed off from the knee and heaved himself on his secured hilt. He placed his right foot on his sword and stood up to look the giant in the face.

The move was completed too quickly for the giant to contemplate, and as he felt his body growing colder, Entreri smiled in his face and thrust his dagger under the huge chin. Blood poured down his neck, and Entreri shifted his position to keep himself clean. The giant’s clumsy arms tried to swat at this offensive man, but his strength was failing too fast and he could do nothing to dislodge Entreri.

The giant fell and Entreri jumped clear so he would not go down too. He pulled Cicle out before the giant was completely frozen. He preferred to let the pathetic creature bleed to death. Entreri wiped his dagger clean and continued up the stairs at the other end of the room.

It was another minute of climbing the huge stairs before he reached the top. The air had a deep chill to it, and Entreri knew he had found what he was looking for. The landing at the top of the stairs extended around a corner and the silent assassin took his time, not wanting to stumble into any more traps. The entrance into the mess hall had been trapped enough so as to keep anyone from entering this area, but it had only been warded against humans. If Kron wanted protection from his lieutenants, he would need something extra.

Around the corner Entreri could see into the frost giant’s personal chamber. The room was bare, but he could not see everything from this far out in the corridor and there had to be several rooms adjacent to the main one. Entreri did not know what time it was, but he and John had been taken captive late in the afternoon, and there was no telling how long they had been out. It was very likely night or early morning, and Kron could be sleeping.

Entreri walked boldly forward, admiring the frosty blue rug that lay at the entrance to the room. There was a nice woven pattern of a white snowflake in the middle of it. He thought it was a bit frilly for a place like this, but if Kron was intelligent, he might like a few frills. Still…

The door to his chamber was open, almost as if he was tempting someone to enter. Entreri crouched down in front of the rug before walking over it. It was heavy, but the assassin was feeling extra chipper this morning. He pulled hard on it and it slid back to reveal a particularly large ward carved into the floor. “Almost got me this time, buddy,” Entreri whispered.

Pasha Basadoni had made him study wards constantly as a youth. At the time, studying the strange symbols had seen like a waste, but after knowledge of such things saved his life on numerous occasion while creeping through the homes of the wealthy, he understood their value. When they were engraved on windowsills and locked chests, they could be designed to look decorative if someone did not know what to look for. Entreri did.

This particular ward was a paralyze spell. It was non-lethal because it was designed for the stone giants, but it probably also triggered an alarm inside the chamber that would alert Kron to his presence. If the frost giant came out here to find Entreri standing stock still, it would be lethal enough. Entreri saw that there was room for him to slink along the wall on either side and avoid the ward, but he had a better idea.

Most wards had an opposing symbol that did the exact opposite. For example, for every ward that granted great wisdom, there was a ward that granted great stupidity. For each ward that gave you protection from a certain element, there was a ward that made you twice as susceptible to that element. The tricky part was that each opposing ward was very similar to its partner, making it very important for the priest or shaman to be as accurate as possible when drawing it.

Entreri knew what the opposite symbol to this paralyzing ward was. He took out Cicle and leaned over the ward carefully. Pressing the sword firmly against the stone floor, he carefully added two more lines to the symbol. He watched as the activation powder magically swirled into the new grooves and a nearly imperceptible hum went through the floor. Entreri smiled and pushed the stiff rug back into place.

He then walked quickly over the rug and into the room. He gave a startled yelp, and stood completely still. He pretended to be paralyzed, but in reality his muscles quivered as his blood raced though his body. Each nerve was on edge, and he thought he was going to explode. The opposite of a paralyze spell was a haste spell, and since it was designed for stone giants, Entreri thought he might be able to run up a vertical wall if he wanted to.

“I told you never to disturb me?” Kron grumbled as he exited one of the adjoining rooms. He looked at Entreri and was deeply troubled. “You? How did you get up here? Where are my guards?” He realized that Entreri could not talk because he was frozen and stopped waiting for an answer. “You are the one who killed my giants outside, aren’t you?” He glanced at Cicle, which was held tightly in Entreri’s hand. “Yes you are? You’d think you would have learned by now not to just barge into someone else’s home. There are traps where you least expect them.”

Entreri could not hold his position much longer. He could feel incredible strain on his limbs and the blood vessels in his head felt like they were going to explode. Unlike the stone giants, Kron had an actual weapon. Hanging on a wall in the room was a huge flail with a spiked ball as big as Entreri’s chest. Kron picked it up and swung the massive weapon about casually. “I should have squashed you when I found you, but I won’t make the same mistake twice. I don’t know how you avoided my other traps and guards, but if you found another way in, you won’t live long enough to tell anyone about it.”

Stop talking already and kill me! Entreri screamed in his mind. The giant walked over to the frozen assassin. “If you were any bigger, I’d save you for a meal, but you will do just fine as sauce.” He spun his weapon by his side skillfully and brought it down with terrific force. The ball crushed the intruder to nothing, and Kron pulled his weapon back to examine the stain. His floor was cracked, but there was no blood at all.

As he bent to look closer, he felt a sudden pain in his calf, almost like a bite. He reached around to slap the area and got another sting in his other leg. Then another one appeared on his side. Then his hand and his knee and his thigh. “What is going on?”

Kron spun around, but there was nothing behind him. More stings struck him, and he spun around again. There was still nothing there. He muttered an activation spell, and the medallion hanging beneath his fur vest shimmered as a protective iceskin covered him. He had peace for about three seconds, and then the stinging came back. “What in Erythnul’s name?” he muttered. That iceskin should have protected him from the next sixteen strikes. Nothing could attack him that fast.

He felt a few more quick stabs and then an intense burst of cold. “Ah,” he said, as he recognized the bite of a frost blade. He pulled his medallion out from inside his vest as he tried to remember the right incantation for the next protection spell. He muttered the activation word and his body shimmered once again.

Down below, racing around the giant’s legs too fast to be seen, Entreri was getting frustrated. He could not leave his dagger inside the giant for any length of time because the shock of energy was too much in his current state of excitement. Also, he could not leave Cicle buried into his enemy liked he did with his less intelligent foes, because Kron would be smart enough and strong enough to pull it free and not touch the blade. Besides, Entreri had a feeling the frost blade was not as effective on this frost giant. It was not leaving its normal line of frost along the wounds.

He knew frost giants were immune to most cold damage, but Cicle’s enchantment was as strong as any he had ever seen on a weapon before. The end result was probably similar to if Entreri would stab himself with an icicle. It was cold, but it did not do extra damage. Still, it was sharper and better balanced than his dirk, so he kept using it.

Now, after this last utterance by Kron, he could see that neither of his blades was doing any damage. It was like he was attacking soft clay. Each weapon sunk into the flesh, but the wounds just closed up afterwards. Damn shaman, Entreri muttered.

Kron laughed as the painful stings finally went away. Already they were healing over due to the extensive regenerating items he wore. Still he did not know how this little man was doing it. Wasn’t he supposed to be paralyzed? As he thought about this, he felt a tickle run up along his side, and his medallion was cut from his neck. “Hey?”

He watched the necklace fall to the ground in front of him, and reached to retrieve it. Before it even hit the ground, a blur of motion intercepted it, and he heard the metallic clink of his medallion being thrown down the hallway and bouncing down the steps. A blur?

As the annoying, but mostly harmless attacks continued, Kron raced over to his entry and pulled the rug back. He saw what had been done to his symbol and laughed. “That spell will not last forever, oh clever intruder, and when it runs out, you will be very tired, and I will be very angry.”

Entreri realized that to and started to change his tactics. The giant’s clothing was mostly fur and baggy coats. It was very easy to climb on. Kron swatted continually at his body as the hasted assassin crawled over him. It felt like a dozen spiders biting him continuously. The bites began to hurt more also, as Entreri found more vital parts to attack. Kron was smart enough not to lash himself with his own weapon as one of his stone giants might do, but he also realized he would not be able to catch Entreri with his hands.

Kron grunted loudly as he ran over to the side of his room and rammed his back against the wall. He then flipped around and smashed his chest into the wall. Entreri hastily scrambled around the body, not taking time to attack anymore. Kron predictably flipped around to slam his back again, and Entreri went to his chest, but the clever frost giant turned completely around and caught Entreri’s ankle as he slammed his stomach into the wall again.

Entreri fell from his perch and rolled away. Now with a limp in his gait, he moved slower. “Not that dumb after all,” Kron laughed, speaking for the assassin. “If only you had known what you were getting yourself into.” The frost giant went on the attack now. His huge flail was fast, but not fast enough to hit Entreri even if he was not hasted. Still, it kept the injured assassin on the move.

Kron felt like he was trying to smash elusive gophers in a field full of holes, but he did not grow frustrated. “Time is ticking away little man, and there is no escape.” Actually there was an escape route, but Kron spoke another power word, and his enchanted door slammed shut and locked.

Then it happened. The spell expired. Entreri’s legs could suddenly no longer keep up with the momentum of his upper body, and he went down in a heap. Kron held his next blow in check, savoring the moment. “What do we have here?”

We have a serious problem, Entreri thought. He could barely breath he was so out of breath. He had never felt this exhausted in his entire life. He did not know if he was strong enough to even stand. He tried to rise, but his ankle screamed in pain and he collapsed again. For the first time in a long time, he felt helpless.

“You have caused me a lot of trouble, I imagine,” Kron started, seeing that Entreri was not going anywhere. “I’m guessing I don’t even know the half of it, do I?” The question was rhetorical, and Entreri did not know if he was strong enough to reply anyway. “When I kill you and go back down stairs, I’m going to find bodies everywhere, aren’t I? I can rebuild, you know. This is not the end for me. But it is the end for you.”

This guy liked to talk, and as he went on about how he was going to sack each town he came to, Entreri tried to analyze his situation. This was like no foe he had ever faced. His weapons were so small that it was like attacking Wulfgar with toothpicks. Given an hour or two, or enough time at the giant’s neck, he might be able might be able to inflict enough damage to kill the thing, but he was not going to get those chances. The stone giants had been over four feet shorter than Kron, and their 1200 pound weight paled next to Kron’s almost 3000 pound bulk. Plus Entreri had a hunch that there were lots more protection devices on Kron other than the medallion he had removed. For as many wounds as he had placed on him, there was almost no blood anywhere.

Each of Entreri’s weapons had powerful enchantments as well, that had aided him against the other giants, but Cicle could do no extra damage against this frost giant, and his dagger’s life sucking ability was too much in his excited sta- Entreri suddenly had an idea.

Kron had finished his litany of future conquests and added his version of last rites. The wrecking ball of a flail came down with tremendous force, and Entreri willed himself to roll out of the way. The spiked ball pinned his trailing cape as Entreri had expected, and as he worked to free the clasp around his neck, Kron brought his foot up to stomp the stationary target. Entreri freed himself just as the boot came down. He rolled to the side and grabbed onto the ankle, sinking his dagger into the giant’s calf.

Kron tried to stomp him off, but with Entreri’s strength returning, he held on tight and made sure his feet did not fall beneath the giant’s huge boots. The drain on Kron’s strength was noticeable, and the giant angrily kicked his leg out hard. The action was too violent for Entreri to retain his grip, and he was hurled across the room, hitting hard against a wooden shelf and bringing the structure down on top of him.

“You are indeed a troublesome pest,” Kron muttered as he walked over to finally put an end to the assassin. He brought his flail down to crush his already broken shelf, but Entreri leaped out of the ruble as limber as ever. “Troublesome and perplexing,” he added, as he pulled his weapon from the firewood he had created and turned to see where Entreri had scampered off to now.

Hoping there were no other wards guarding his bedroom, Entreri raced in and saw a large window to the outside. Kron heard shattering glass coming from his room and quickly followed. “What trouble are you getting into now!”

Entreri found himself on the side of a wind swept peak. The sun was just coming up, and though it was hidden behind him, it illuminated the scene in front. Entreri tried to figure out if he should go down or up, but as the thin stone wall behind him exploded outward, launching him from his ledge, he decision was made for him.

Kron made the hole a bit bigger and stepped outside. He saw Entreri sliding down the snowy slope in front of him. “Stop playing in the snow and let me kill you!” He screamed into the wind. Entreri reached the bottom of the small valley and looked behind him. Kron was walking down the slope, creating a small avalanche with each step. In front of Entreri was a much steeper slope and he scrambled for it.

He had barely climbed out of the giant’s reach by the time Kron made it to the valley. “You think you can climb faster than me?” the frost giant laughed. “You are sorely mistaken.”

As it turned out, Kron was mistaken. He reached for the first handhold, but it broke away under his weight. He tried a few more times with the same result. Meanwhile, Entreri was almost running up the nearly vertical slope. In his frustration, Kron jumped and swung his flail up at the agile assassin. It came a dozen feet short, but the spikes sunk deep into the wall and held fast. Kron found that he was able to pull himself up, but once he removed the flail to swing it up again, he just went falling back down.

As he sat up and brushed away the rocks that had followed him down, he saw that he had left a large hole in the wall. If he could reach it, he knew it would support him. He swung his flail six feet up on the wall, and created another hole. He then put another one twelve feet up and started to climb.

Entreri braced himself each time the flail struck, as the tremors almost shook him from the wall. “What is he doing now, chopping down the mountain?” Entreri looked down to find out, and redoubled his efforts. He still made it to the top first, but he was not alone up there for long. As Kron slowly pulled himself up onto the narrow plateau, Entreri hoped his hastily thrown together plan would work.

Chapter 10

The Plan

John and Elliorn quickly waded through the carnage before them. John could not imagine how something like this could be possible. He had never seen Entreri fight, and his mind was not wild enough to imagine what could have done this. His only glimpse of the assassin’s prowess was when he had killed the stone giant, but he had only struck once and had let his magical blade do all the work. After hearing the tale of what he had done to defeat Quinton, John had hoped to catch the assassin in action. Now he was not so sure he wanted to witness it.

Elliorn did not need to look at the telling wounds on the goblins to know who had done this. She did not believe in coincidences, and this would be a major one if she did not find Entreri at the end of this blood trail. That John and the mayor had hidden this man from her was something she would deal with later. It was possible that Entreri was living under the name Arthur and John really did not know who he was, but she doubted it. If Entreri already had a cover established, he would not have called himself Regis back when they were tied together.

Even though Entreri was killing goblins and doing the entire countryside a huge favor, she was prepared to kill him on sight. John had questioned earlier whether Entreri was really as evil as she thought since he had spared her, and this goblin killing spree might look like a turning of a leaf to some, but she knew Entreri as a killer. It is what he did. If these had been forest fairies instead of goblins, she believed the carnage would be no less intense.

They spent a short while searching the rooms that branched off from the adequately named “mess” hall, but could see nothing of interest. Their destination lay across the great hall where more stairs stood. There were no goblin steps carved into the side of this stairway, and Elliorn knew what lay ahead of them. There were still two stone giants unaccounted for. If Entreri had faced off against them alone, maybe her work would be done for her.

No, she might hate the killer, but she respected him too much to think that creatures she could kill by herself would take him down. Now if he had already met up with Kron, that was a different story. Elliorn would not be so foolish as to go up against him by herself.

The two dead giants at the top of the steps did not surprise her. John spent a while to examine the bodies, noticing again the heavy frost along the wounds. The wounds were vicious, but there were not that many of them. John imagined a battle he might have with one of these giants if they faced off. He would have to hit it a dozen times before he inflicted enough damage to bring it down and take its head.

“Come on,” Elliorn said impatiently. “The bodies are still slightly warm. He was here recently.”

They moved up the remaining steps with a little more caution. They both expected to find the same thing. They expected to find Entreri smashed to a pulp and Kron waiting for them. Elliorn did not want to fight the frost giant now. She wanted to do it on her own terms with ballistae, flaming arrows, barrels of oil, and a legion of knights, but if she were forced into combat here, she would not turn away from it.

Elliorn noticed something metal lying on the steps ahead of her. She picked it up and recognized it as the medallion Kron had worn. He had looked at it when he had been interrogating her. He said it had announced the arrival of some visitors. She now understood that he had wards set up around the mountain range, and this medallion was tied to those wards. By the intricate design of the item, she bet it had many other uses as well. What was it doing on the steps? She tucked it into her pack, and they continued up the stairs.

The door at the top was closed. Elliorn noticed that the ward on the floor was spent. Had Entreri fallen victim to it? The wards before the mess hall had been triggered, but he had apparently survived. She remembered the only time they had fought. She had hit him with an arrow twice, the first time solidly in the leg. Still he had been more nimble and agile than anyone she had ever faced, save her elven teachers. Was he impervious?

The knob on the door was seven feet high, but John could reach it. “Don’t!” Elliorn cried on instinct.

“What?” he asked, but he remembered all the other traps. “Right. What do we do?”

“Get back,” she said. They both retreated to the stairs where the corridor curved around. John put himself out of sight of the door as Elliorn slowly knocked an arrow to her bow. The keyhole was not a huge target, but it was oversized. She had hit smaller things from further away. She let fly, and then ducked around the corner with John. The explosion was tremendous. They could both feel the heat coming down the hallway. When it was over, they saw that there was only a smoking hole where the door had been. They walked into the chamber and recognized it as a battle scene. There was no blood or bodies anywhere.

“Where did they go?” John asked.

Elliorn could feel a draft and moved into the bedroom. The gaping hole in the wall was impossible to miss. The two of them stepped out onto the ledge and watched as Kron pulled himself up onto a peak almost 200 yards away. Almost invisible at this distance was a small human form already on top of the peak.

“Artemis!!!” Elliorn screamed.

The wind was blowing in her favor and the words came to Entreri clearly. “Damn it ranger,” Entreri cursed, “not now.” He watched her pull her bow and set an arrow. “She can’t hit me from-” but he cut his comment short as he dodged to the side and an arrow whizzed past him. Just what he needed.

“I am too big for her to miss, Artemis,” Kron said, loving this moment. He finished climbing up to stand in front of Entreri. “Is she a friend of yours?”

Entreri quickly moved to put Kron between himself and the ranger, laughing at the absurdity of it. He had death in front of him and over a 250-foot drop behind him. The slope was one he could manage if there was no wind and he had time, but these were not the conditions he was faced with.

“You might be too quick for me to catch, but I will survive that fall and you will not.”

Entreri knew he was right. Kron might not survive the direct fall, but with his resilience, he could bounce down the slope like a child rolling down a grassy hill. If Entreri jumped, the wind would carry him far away from the slope, but even if it did not, he would break every bone in his body before he hit the bottom.

“Or maybe I should just climb back down and let your ranger friend have some target practice.”

“I’d rather you not,” Entreri said. He had a plan, he just did not like to be forced into it. “I’ll race you to the bottom,” he said playfully. He turned around, ran the dozen feet to the edge, and jumped.

“Did he just jump?” John asked, peering into the distance. Kron jumped after him.

“They both did,” Elliorn said, looking for a way to get down to the valley bellow that did not involve falling.

“They’ll be killed,” John said. “Won’t they?”

“I’m not leaving anything to chance,” she said, finding a narrow path and starting her way down. John shrugged his shoulders and followed.

Entreri had four, maybe five seconds before he hit bottom. There might be snow covering his landing spot, but he knew it would still kill him instantly. He reached into his cloak and pulled out his ivory cylinder. With the ground rushing at him ever faster, he opened the portal to a huge diameter. Careful not to remove the cylinder from the shimmering portal, he slid it over to the side and fell through.

His velocity with respect to the portal was incidental, and he rolled onto the cave floor smoothly. He quickly moved to the other side of the magical doorway just before a tremendous amount of snow came hurtling through as the portal struck the ground. The portal stayed open and Entreri breathed a sigh of relief. He had tested before to see if something inanimate could remove the cylinder from the portal and close it, but he was pretty sure a living being had to do it. He was glad he was right.

Entreri continued to wait off to the side of the portal. A few seconds later a wave of rocks and more snow came shooting through the doorway at incredible velocity. This would be the minor avalanche Kron had brought with him. No mater how much snow and rock fell on the portal it could never be buried.

After a short wait a huge hand came through. It felt around cautiously and curiously. Soon Kron’s wrist and elbow came through. Once the fingers found the gold, the arm came in up to the shoulder. Entreri watched as the hand walked its way up the stacks of gold and onto the dead dragon’s body. The entire arm froze. Entreri allowed himself a chuckle as he wondered if Kron knew what he was feeling.

The arm retracted itself, and Entreri got ready to move. As expected, Kron’s bearded head came through next. He almost pulled it back out when he saw the dragon, but as a fellow creature of magical origin, he could tell that the huge red was dead. Kron rotated his head and smiled. “I found you.”

“Good bye,” Entreri said, running up to the head and squeezing through the gap in the portal beside it.

Kron was a bit disoriented. The portal was lying flat on the ground outside, and anyone looking at him from above would liken his posture to an ostrich hiding its head in the sand. From Kron’s perspective the portal was opened perpendicular to the cave floor, and his head was lying flat instead of pointing down. This confusion cost Kron his life. Instead of pulling his head up and out of the hole, he picked it up sideways. The result was that he hooked the portal’s edge around his neck, and lifted it off the snowy ground, and his head stayed inside the cave.

Entreri clung onto the giant’s back has Kron stood up blindly. He now wore the portal like a necklace; his shoulders were too broad to fit through. Entreri hung on, looking up into the shimmering disk that seemed to float on Kron’s shoulders. He needed to find the cylinder somewhere on the edge of the disk, but as Kron stumbled about clumsily, he had to concentrate more on holding on. Kron’s hands kept coming together in the area above his shoulders where his head was supposed to be. For all his motion on this side of the magical doorway, since the portal was moving with him, inside the cave nothing moved.

As much as Entreri would have loved to watch this comedic spectacle longer, he needed to end it before Kron wised up and put the portal back on the ground and pulled his head out properly. Entreri finally spotted the cylinder, scrambled up the giant’s back, and plucked it free. The portal snapped shut and Kron’s body stopped moving instantly. Entreri tucked the cylinder back into his coat and jumped from his perch, knowing what was coming next.

Blood shot into the air in a red fountain, turning the snow in the immediate area into a sea of red. Entreri scrambled outside of the shower’s range, always one to stay neat. The headless body stayed standing for a few macabre moments and then toppled forward like a felled tree. Blood continued to flow for a while, but with a wound that big and clean, it did not take long to drain the giant’s body.

Entreri picked himself up from the snow and breathed a huge sigh. He approached the giant’s body from the angle that offered the least amount of red snow. He stuck his dagger into the cooling corpse and took what little he could, but there was not much life left.

He was about to relax when he remembered something. “Elliorn!” he cried out loud. He had seen the ranger right before he jumped. He had just done her job for her, but he knew thanks were not on her mind. He needed to get away. He did not like the idea of running, but he knew with her bow and accuracy, he would be dead long before she got close enough for his weapons. The pass he was in ran north and south and was clear enough, but the snow was heavy and he would leave very visible tracks.

Elliorn would be coming from the south in a few minutes once she skirted around the peak he had just jumped from, unless she went over the top like he had, but he doubted that. To the west, directly across from the cliff he had jumped from was a much smaller cliff face. Entreri moved over to it, careful to cover his tracks behind him.

Once he got to the wall, he swore. It was covered in ice, and the first ledge was just two feet out of reach. The ledge faced east, and while it was in shade now in the early morning, in an hour it would be bathed in direct sunlight. Any snow on it melted and then froze into ice during the night. This meant Entreri could move across it without leaving tracks, but he had to get up to the ledge first. The ice was too slick to climb.

An idea came to him and he reopened his portal. He made sure it was big enough so he could step past the obstruction he knew would be there. He went back into his cave and heaved the tremendous head through the portal and into the snow. He took a while to frown at the blood left behind in his cave. If he did not clean that up, it would start to stink pretty soon.

He stepped back through the portal, closed it, and climbed onto the top of the disembodied head. The ledge was now in reach, and Entreri climbed up onto it. The narrow path snaked around to the north and continued up at a slow pace. There were a few slippery handholds, and Entreri climbed. In a few minutes, he was far away from the dead giant.

* * * * *

Elliorn made it to the valley beneath the broken window before John, and she patiently waited for him. If Kron had survived the fall, and she did not doubt that he could, she did not want to face him alone. They did not follow directly, but stayed in the snowy pass that headed west. It sloped down quite steeply, making the peak from which Entreri and Kron had jumped look even taller. After a few minutes the valley intersected another wider pass that headed north.

Elliorn saw Kron’s body from a distance. The red around him stood out plainly on the white horizon. John stopped once he saw what they were walking toward, his knees suddenly weak. Elliorn did not pause at all. She walked right up to the dead giant and climbed on top of his chest. “I will stand over your beheaded body,” she said, repeating the threat she had given him back during the interrogation. Of course she had been planing on being the one to take the head. She did not cry too much over the missed opportunity. She was just glad it was done.

“Who? How? What?” John was nothing but questions as he approached.

“The head is over there,” she pointed to a spot over fifty feet away. “This wound is impossible.”

John looked at her with a puzzled expression, but then took the time to examine the wound for himself. He had investigated many murders, and had never seen anything like this. “The cut it too clean,” he said.

“Yes,” she agreed, “even for a magical blade. And it was made with one swipe. Even your sword is not that long. And are we to believe that the cut was made with such force that the head flew all the way over there?”

“Another giant with a really sharp sword?” John asked.

“Then where are the tracks?” Apart from the blood and a few of Kron’s footprints, there was nothing. “And where is Artemis?”

“You mean Arthur?” John asked.

She scowled at him, but he was doing a much better job of acting right now. “Whatever,” she huffed.

“He is probably buried,” John said.

Elliorn turned to look back at the mountainside Kron had descended. He had brought an awful lot of rock and snow down with him. Somehow Elliorn did not want to believe Entreri was under there. Something had killed this frost giant, and as impossible as it sounded for Entreri to have done it, there were a lot of mysteries about the man she did not understand.

“No,” she said, jumping down off the giant and looking for more clues, “he is around here somewhere. And I will find him.”

“Stop already!” John cried. “The man is dead! Even if he is this Artemis you keep blabbering about, he just killed a hoard of goblins and giants. He did what it would take an army to do. Don’t you think you should let him off the hook?”

“Entreri is evil,” she said calmly. “If Kron had killed him, would you want me to let the giant off the hook? Evil kills evil. That does not make the evil good.” She looked at the pile under which Entreri most logically resided. It would take a day to dig through that.

“I’ll get you a shovel,” he said, reading her thoughts, “but I won’t help you. There are far more pressing matters at hand.”

Elliorn shook herself free from her vendetta to listen to John’s words. He was right. The slaves would be heading back to town by now. They would be moving slowly and would need help and healing. Plus with the wind picking up, a storm was likely on the way. Her duties required her to lend assistance.

She looked once more at the impossible kill and shrugged her shoulders. “Let’s go.” She could come back here later if she had time.

* * * * *

“It’s nice to see you back in one piece,” Jerithon said, standing behind his desk and shaking John’s hand.

“It’s nice to be in one piece,” John agreed, taking a seat in front of the mayor’s desk and picking up the drink Jerithon had prepared for him.

“Well,” the mayor prompted, “don’t just sit there in silence. Please give me your full report.”

“The threat is ended. The goblins have been routed, and whatever might remain will be cleaned out come spring.” John went into a few particulars as to what exactly had been in the goblin caves and what they had been up to. He also elaborated on the giants and how they had been killed.

“Were there many casualties?”

“Weren’t you listening?” John said.

“I mean human casualties,” Jerithon corrected.

John’s expression changed, and he nodded regretfully. “Three of my men and many civilians. My men died in the initial attack and were buried in the avalanche that nearly got me. I am going to take a team up there and dig them out in a few days when the weather breaks. We were alerted to the goblins initially when they killed two brothers that lived near the town, but upon investigation, it seems they were two of many. They killed the strong ones and took the weak as slaves.”

Jerithon nodded. “And Artemis?”

John smiled. “He is alive and well. I just saw him two hours ago hanging curtains in his shack as if nothing had happened. I tried to press for details, but he was not forthcoming.”

“What are we going to do about him?”

John raised his arms by his side. “We will keep away from him. Give him space, give him peace and quiet, and give him the city keys if he asks for them. Still, as long as he behaves, it is nice to know we have someone like that here. Though he is difficult to recruit, once he puts his mind to something it gets done.”

The mayor nodded. “And what of the ranger?”

“Elliorn stayed in Hillcrest a while longer than I did. She wanted to make sure that everything was taken care of and that everyone knew not to wander too deep into the mountains until a party could be organized to clean them out. I actually expected her to-” John was interrupted as the door into the mayor’s office burst open and Elliorn walked.

“Miss,” the mayor’s attendant called, “you can’t go in there, he is in a-” but the voice was cut off as Elliorn slammed the door behind her.

Jerithon smiled at her and stood to offer his hand. “Welcome back, Elliorn. You did this entire area a great serv-”

“You lied to me!” she interjected, not about to accept the mayor’s handshake. “You lied to me and harbored a known murderer. I have half a mind to haul you back to Karenstoch to face the charges for Artemis’s crimes.”

Jerithon looked as innocent as possible. “I assure you, I do not know what you are talking about. We have caught, tried, and executed all the murderers in our city.”

“You know full well what I am talking about,” she bit back. “I am not talking about the murders of a few months ago, though I would not be surprised to find out that Artemis played a part in those matters as well. If he were not dead I would tear this city apart to bring him to justice. If I ever find out that you are doing anything else that cou-”

The door burst open again, and a young man that neither John nor Jerithon recognized rushed in. “-can’t go in ther-” came the cry from in the hall.

Elliorn turned and recognized the man immediately. “Alec, what are you doing here?” Alec Barnwuld was as close to a pupil as Elliorn had. The young man loved the woods almost as much as she did, and she had requested that he look after her cabin north of Karenstoch while she was gone.

“Thank Ehlonna I found you,” he said, pulling a rolled parchment from his cloak. “I have been on the road for two weeks. The elves sent me.”

Elliorn looked harshly at him. The existence of elves in the Northwood was supposed to be a secret. She took the parchment. “Did you read it?”

Alec shook his head. “I could not.”

Elliorn was confused. Alec was a very good reader. As she unrolled it, she understood. It was written in Elvish. Elliorn was probably the only human within a thousand miles that could have read it. Her eyes scanned the letter, the scowl on her face growing deeper and more serious. She looked up when she was done. “Alec, go buy two new horses. We leave back for home immediately.”

Alec nodded and rushed out of the room. The ranger turned back to the two other men in the room. “The evil magics of this land are awakening. What we just went through is only the beginning. We are in for troubled times ahead.” With that she turned on her heals and marched out of the room.

The two men were silent for quite some time, wondering what had just happened. “What do you think she meant by that?” Jerithon finally asked. John could only shrug.

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