Mark Sehestedt - Hand of the Hunter

It proved to be more than a cave entrance. Beyond was a tunnel, leading up through the rock, albeit not very far. Through a very tight squeeze-Mandan barely managed it-they emerged on a higher level of the mountain saddle. The wind hit them full force, but with the kanishta root's juices flowing through them, the cold no longer had much bite. Still, on the ice-slick path, it made for very treacherous going, and the men often slipped, slid, and fell as they rushed to keep up with Hweilan. But keep up they did. Darric discovered that the kanishta root not only filled his body with warmth, but with vigor-at first with such a rush that his hands shook. But Hweilan set a brutal pace, leading them ever higher into the mountains, and Darric found himself using every bit of energy the root gave him.

The eastern sky was lightening when their path finally leveled out somewhat. It was still hard going, but Darric no longer felt as if they were climbing more than walking. The mountain's peak rose on their left, its snow-covered heights gleaming in the moonlight. But Darric soon lost sight of it as their path plunged into a tree-choked ravine.

Hweilan slowed, and by the way she constantly looked around, Darric could see she was agitated.

He caught up to her and whispered, "What is it?"

"Listen."

Everyone stopped. At first Darric could hear nothing beyond the sound of the men's labored breathing. Then he caught it, just on the very edge of his hearing-a plaintive yip-yip.

Darric could tell by the way Mandan's posture had stiffened and he looked at the woods with widened eyes that he had heard it too-probably better than any of them.

"What?" said Jaden.

"The wolf," said Mandan.

"Uncle," said Hweilan.

"The wolf?" said Valsun. "What…?"

Hweilan unhitched the bone mask from where it rode on her belt. She fitted it to her face, and for just an instant, Darric thought he saw a tiny sparkle of green play along the edges of the runes burned into it. Hweilan's eyes, seen through the bone, seemed suddenly feral.

"What?" said Darric, at the same time he heard Jaden mutter, "Oh, this can't be good."

She took the bow off her back, strung it, and fitted an arrow to the string. "Your men know how to use those weapons?" she said.

Darric nodded. "Yes."

"Then look like it."

"You mean-?"

"I mean," she said, raising her voice just enough for everyone to hear, "get a weapon in your hand. And stay by me. This place is no good."

With that, she turned and set off at a jog.

"No good?" said Jaden, taking off after her. "No good for what?"

Mandan hefted his club and slapped it into his other hand. "What do you think?"

What started as a jog soon fell into a run, and despite the invigorating kanishta root, the men in their heavy clothes and mail struggled to keep up. The sky was growing brighter all the time, but gloom still ruled under the trees, and Darric often lost sight of Hweilan. But he kept his men on the path and urged them on until catching sight of her again.

The path ran into a cliff face, its bottom strewn with house-sized boulders and choked with thick brush. The pines ran right up against it, standing amidst the boulders, their branches tickling the cliffside. To their right, brush clogged a steep slope for a few dozen paces before falling away to nothingness, and on their left, the forest continued up the slope of the mountain. Darric caught sight of the peak between the boughs.

Darric stopped and looked around as the others gathered behind him. There was no sign of Hweilan.

Jaden bent over, hands on knees. He was breathing so hard that he accidentally spat out the gobby mess of kanishta root. He cursed, picked it up, and after wiping off the worst of the dirt and grit, plopped it back into his mouth.

"Where's… our lady… friend… got off… to?" he said between gasps.

Mandan was breathing heavily as well, but he stood straight, his head held back, his nostrils flaring as he took deep drafts of the breeze off the mountain. "We have bigger problems."

Jaden said, "What?"

"I smell-"

And then a gale hit them. Darric heard the howl of it coming down the mountain an instant before it struck, snapping branches from trees and raising a wave of pine needles off the ground that swept over them, stinging exposed skin and forcing Darric to close his eyes. His cloak caught the wind like a sail, and he had to fight to keep his feet. That's when he heard them.

Voices in the wind-hoots and cries, and mixed with it all a gleeful cackling. Shielding his eyes with one hand, Darric squinted against the cloud of pine needles and grit. A dozen or more figures were charging up the path behind them. Ugly scraps of black-iron armor covered clothes made of hide and pelts. The bits of hair that protruded from their helmets was so coarse and thick that it seemed more like fur, and their narrow eyes drank in every bit of dim dawnlight and cast it back, like a dog's eyes. Most of the figures held iron-shod spears more than twice the height of their wielders. Hobgoblins. Bigger and meaner than their goblin cousins, Darric knew that even with Mandan in full rage they'd stand no chance against so many.

"Run!" Mandan roared, and pushed Darric up the path.

"Move-move-move!" Darric said, and got the men moving, Mandan bringing up the rear. If they could make it to the cliff, at least they could keep their backs against the rock and fight only on one front.

The wind came back around again, slapping Darric's cloak against his legs. He stumbled, but Mandan caught him and kept him going.

Valsun, several paces ahead, was passing between two boulders when Darric saw it-something moving up from the ground. His first thought was it was a snake, but then he saw" Valsun!"

But it was too late. Running full speed, Valsun's shins struck the tight cord, and he went down. From behind the boulders, two hobgoblins leaped over the path, crossing in midair and pulling the rope in a tight loop. Valsun managed to shake one leg free before the cord tightened, but his right boot caught. The hobgoblins didn't even spare the others a glance. They turned and ran, dragging Valsun behind them.

Enemies behind and before, Jaden stood dumbstruck.

"Move, you fool!" Darric said as he passed Jaden. He rounded the largest of the boulders where Valsun had disappeared, then he too skidded to a stop.

Valsun lay on his back against another boulder, his sword on the ground well out of reach, his two captors standing over him, the points of their swords at his throat. But in front of Darric was the biggest goblin he had ever seen-had ever heard of. He had all the typical goblin features-coarse, bristly hair, pointed ears that stood out from its head, a scarce bump of a nose between two slit eyes; he wore only rudimentary clothing-but he was easily eight feet tall, most of it muscle. Arms wide, the monster lunged.

Darric ducked and swiped with his sword. He didn't put full force into the blow, fearing Jaden or Mandan might be coming up behind him, and the blade only sliced a narrow gash along the back of the creature's helmet-sized hand.

And then the hobgoblins were all around-rising from behind boulders, jumping down from thick boughs where they'd been hiding. Those charging up the path hadn't been attacking. They'd been driving Darric and his men into the real attack, and it had worked perfectly.

The giant goblin grinned and made another quick swipe at Darric. Again Darric struck, but the monster was ready for it this time and pulled away laughing.

Behind him, Mandan roared and Darric could hear his club cutting through the air. Jaden was screaming. Darric kept the point of his blade raised at the monster as he turned sideways and risked a quick glance. Mandan stood between the two boulders where Valsun tripped. Swinging his club, he was holding back a half-dozen goblins. One of them lunged with a spear and the club struck, shattering the shaft and sending its wielder reeling back.