Cold Counsel by Chris Sharp

There were strange portents the night he was born. He came at heart of the longest storm the mountain had seen, tearing from his mother’s belly as her wails were swallowed by the roar of the wind. They say the babe climbed out red claws first, with arms too long and savage for a newborn, and a full beard already grown on the slab of his chin. […] His mother bled out while he laughed in her arms, and even his father, chief of the clan, appeared shaken by the ferocity of his son’s arrival. He named the boy Slud – an old trollish word for ‘bringer of troubles'”.

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