Winter's Rising

by Mark Tufo

  “And once the Ferals are dealt with?”

  “We’ll see,” Haden said as he pulled back.

  Dystance Camp

  A FEW PEOPLE were consoling Durango, who was still sniveling. At times, he would roll up into a fetal position; at other times he would stare off as if he were catatonic. Most of the Dystancians seemed traumatized by today’s events; those that weren’t in the battle had still been deeply affected by it. I held no pity for them. What were they expecting? We were at war. I, along with Cedar, kept a vigilant watch out for the Ferals’ return. Tallow was pacing around, nervously fixing and repairing any weaknesses he could find in our wall. At some point, no matter how safe our defenses, we were going to have to leave. We had provisions for three days, but at the pace some of the people were going through them, maybe not even that much.

  I couldn’t fault them much for that. They were holding more food than they’d probably ever had in their lifetimes, and to tell them to ration it now wasn’t going to work. Subconsciously, I had to figure most didn’t think they were going to make it through the night, so better to die with a full belly. The sun had nearly set when the Ferals once again materialized from the tree line.

  “Everyone up!” Tallow shouted.

  Groans immediately became gasps, which in turn changed to murmured forlorn speech. Some of the people had not even grabbed their weapons; either they had forgotten everything they were taught, or they were simply intent on defeat.

  “Tallow.” I got his attention then pointed to my sword. At first he had no idea what I was talking about until he looked around.

  “Arm yourselves,” he reminded them.

  “Maybe if we don’t they won’t attack; they’ll leave us alone,” a wisp of a boy said from the back.

  “Those that they hunted down were unarmed. Should we ask them if the Ferals might not attack?”

  “Winter, please,” Tallow beseeched.

  “No, Tallow. I don’t think these people are getting it. It’s fight or die. The Ferals will not hear any of our cries for mercy. We stand together or we fall together. It’s as simple as that.” The wisp reluctantly picked up his blade. I turned back to see if the Ferals had moved. They had not, but the line had grown in size as more and more of them came out.

  “What are they doing?” Cedar asked.

  “I think they’re trying to rattle us,” I told her.

  “Well, it’s pretty effective then. Let me know when they come. I have got to know if Charles proposes to Destiny or to Hope.”

  “You’re going to read? Right now?”

  Cedar’s head bobbed before she sat back down and grabbed the book from under a rock.

  I was thankful for the fullness of the moon as it illuminated them perfectly. The Ferals were standing still and making no noise. The Dystancians had seemingly lost interest when they had not charged immediately. I don’t know what the cue was because it was not vocalized, but the Ferals went from standing to running full out.

  “UP!” Tallow shouted. “For Dystance!” He raised his sword; the replied cheer was lackluster at best.

  Dystance had never done much for us except prepare us for death.

  “For Dystancians!” I shouted. That got a little more rise. We began to hear the sounds of footsteps as they padded on the ground. The Ferals waited until they halved the distance before they began to scream–blood-curdling vocalizations assailed our ears.

  I found myself matching them decibel for decibel as I jumped back upon my rock. I instantly became a target as one of the Ferals locked on to me. A war-hammer in his hand, he pulled it back in preparation to strike. He jumped, I swung; the steel of my sword arcing across his broad chest, slicing him through his breastplate. A large swath of skin peeled back and fell away, as did he. He was screaming in rage from the wound. Another Feral came up to my left. This cut was cleaner and deadlier. As it struck the side of his neck, an arterial spray gushed from collar, splashing up my leg and over my knee.

  A thrown hammer nicked my ear. I could feel blood dribbling down my neck. The one who had tossed it felt the bite of my blade through his belly. I pulled the weapon away, a sucking sound issuing forth as it came free. His hands immediately went to cover the hole as I sliced him open from sternum to belly button. Ribbons of intestines spilled onto the dirt like thick worms.

  I could tell Cedar was next to me, but to turn and look to see how she was doing would have been impossible. In certain spots, Ferals had breached the wall. We were surrounded; fighting was happening to my front, sides and back. I could do naught but defend my circle of space. It was mine; to lose it meant my life.

  “AHHHH!” Cedar screamed. My heart momentarily ached for the loss of my friend. “He stepped on my book!” She sounded angrier than I ever remember hearing her. Her blade was a flash of silver in the night as she made the Feral pay for his transgression.

  Again, without any visible or verbal cue, the Ferals acted as one. This time they pulled back. My chest was heaving, my blade, my clothing, and my skin were dripping with a heavy coating of blood and gore. Little of it, I noted, was my own.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” I shouted to their retreating forms. “You alright?” I asked Cedar. She nodded. I frantically looked around for Tallow. He had dropped off the rocks and was tending to the wounded.

  “Why are they leaving?” Cedar asked as she wiped off something better left unidentified from the cover of her book.

  “They were testing our strength,” Tallow said. “Are you alright?” he asked, looking at me. His eyes let me know just how worried he was. “You’re bleeding.”

  “I think I’m fine,” I said, but in fact I was covered in a variety of nicks and small cuts, not to mention a glancing head blow that had nearly knocked me from my perch. I looked down at my body; it was leaking crimson from a dozen places. When had all this happened?

  “Durango, get your useless butt up and start helping.” Tallow kicked the boy’s form. Durango had found a small outcropping and had hid the entire time.

  “Are...are they gone?” he asked, uncovering his face.

  Tallow roughly dragged him out. “Get the dead Ferals out of our fort and away from our area. Tomorrow we’ll bury the Dystancians–if we can.”

  “You want me to go out there?”

  “Oh now you don’t want to go out there?” Tallow shoved the boy. “They’ve stopped for now. We need to get these bodies out of here.”

  I sat down, suddenly feeling drained of all my energy. Cedar handed me a clean shirt soaked in some water. I absently wiped away a fair amount of the grime, exposing even more cuts than I originally thought I had suffered.

  I rested my head against a rock, my limbs leaden. While I was fighting I thought I might never sleep again. Now, mere minutes later, I think I could have slept through the night.

  “We lost seven.” Tallow had come up to me.

  “How many Ferals?” was my response.

  “Don’t you care?” he seemed disgusted.

  “Of course I do! How could you even ask that? We’ll mourn them when, and if, we can. Right now, they’re not my primary concern. It’s the other eighty-nine still standing that mean the most to me.”

  “Because they’ll protect your life?” He meant it as a barb.

  “Yes,” I answered honestly. “We’ll all be protecting each other’s lives. So how many Ferals fell?”

  “Forty two.”

  My eyes widened.

  “You were probably responsible for half of them, Winter.” Cedar explained. She went from pride in our accomplishment to horror-stricken in an instant. “Look what they did to my book!” Cedar held it up; the spine was ripped in two.

  Klondike Camp

  “NOT BAD,” HADEN said from his vantage point.

  “It was merely a probing–you know that.”

  “Are you so sour, Serrot? It was still more than we expected from them.”

  “We are wasting time and resources.”

  “Are you in such a r
ush to clash swords?”

  “The Hillians, I can assure you, are not sitting back waiting for things to happen, Haden.”

  “Such little faith you have in me, Serrot. While you were pouting about my maneuver here, I was informed by our long range scouts that they found the Brutons’ and the Hillians’ encampments.”

  “You kept this news from me? We must strike.”

  “Relax, my friend. I have put another plan into effect. Now you will ask: ‘What?’ I will save you the effort. I had a squad dress themselves as Brutons. They killed a Hillian scout and took off, but not before they allowed the remaining scout to follow them to the edge of the Bruton encampment. So while we’re here...”

  “The Hillians and Brutons will be fighting, as will the Dystancians and Ferals. I will not doubt you again, Haden.” Serrot was smiling from ear to ear.

  Dystance Camp

  I HAD CLEANED up to a reasonable facsimile of what I normally looked like. The night was calm, the moon and the stars shining brightly. I’d promised myself I was only going to shut my eyes for a moment. When I awoke it was with a start. A slight breeze moving from east to west raised goose bumps on my exposed flesh, but that wasn’t what got me up. It was the shock of silence. No crickets chirping, no night birds calling–it was as if the world was holding its breath for an expectant release.

  “Cedar, wake up,” I shook her softly.

  Her book fell from her hands. “Clarissa is an evil b...” She sat up, shaking the fog from her head. “What’s going on?” she asked in the same soft tone.

  I pointed up and slowly began to stand. She did the same. When we were able to look over the rocks the sight was an unwelcome one. Hundreds of Ferals were slowly making their way toward us. “Start waking everyone up. Quietly,” I added. If I knew my friend at all, she’d just start kicking them.

  She got Tallow first. I could hear their muted talking. Tallow shot up quickly and the Ferals froze as his sword struck a stone and rang out into the night. “Stupid,” I said under my breath.

  The sound died down; the Ferals stayed frozen for an instant longer before resuming their stealthy approach, albeit this time a little faster. I think they knew they’d been discovered.

  “Dystancians up!” There was no time left for secrecy. The Ferals added their screams to my own.

  Cedar ran back to our spot, quickly put her book in her backpack and hid it under an outcropping as best she could. “Any one touches that and I’ll slice their hand off.”

  I laughed at the craziness of her statement but not the fierceness with which she had uttered those words. Time appeared to slow down as the Ferals came forward. I had completely forgotten about the advantage I’d been honing for nearly a year. It was oversights like these which were going to get me killed. I had succumbed to anger, an emotion that crippled my ability, along with fear. I could make out the ripples in their legs as they moved effortlessly toward us. Weapons, which had been hanging by their sides, were slowly brought to bear. Four individuals had their sights set on me. I had my sword up by my face. The timing would be close on the second and third, but the first would be long dead by the time they arrived. At least, long dead by my reckoning. In real time it would be less than seconds.

  Time had slowed to the point where I could see the faint push of air as a heavy stone was hurled at me. I turned to the side; the stone grazed across my stomach. When I came back to position, I made sure to lead with my sword. I pierced the first of my attackers through the throat; he died, strangled by his own blood. One of the Ferals coming my way must have seen something he didn’t like as his muscles were straining to stop him before he was within my reach. His hesitancy sparked something within me. I decided I wasn’t going to wait for him to get here. I jumped down, the impact traveling up from the bottom of my feet through my ankles, knees, and hips.

  He was in the process of turning away when I slashed through his side, exposing his internal organs to the chill of the night air. As he was falling, the third man determined to kill me crashed his knee into the head of his dying comrade. It was enough to send the swing of his obsidian blade far short of my jugular. I brought my edge against the back of his hamstrings, severing them easily. The battle mask he wore across his face turned into a teeth-shattering clench of agony as his tendon rolled in on itself. It was impossible to tell how long this barrage went on; within my own personal cocoon, the measure of time was indeterminable.

  Klondike Camp

  “YOU STILL THINK she is just a normal girl?” Haden asked.

  “I would be lying if I said I did,” Serrot replied begrudgingly. “But I still don’t see what this changes.”

  “She is savage beauty; beauty with the ability to deliver death with fluid grace. She is no mere Dystancian; she is no mere human. There is more there, and I am determined to find out what it is. Prepare the archers to fire.”

  Serrot still had his doubts, but he had to agree with Haden. The girl was defying her own death with every movement she performed, some seemingly almost precognizant. “She’s trouble, that one. I don’t need the power of prophesy to know that,” he said to himself as he went to the waiting line of archers. “Archers ready!” he commanded. The line of men drew back on their bowstrings, arrows at the ready. He kept them in this position longer than he should have as some began to shake minutely as they fought with the heavy draw. Just die, he thought, watching Winter perform her ballet of destruction.

  “Sir?” the lead archer asked. If they stayed in that position much longer they would need to reset and Haden would become suspicious of the delay.

  “Fire, dammit. Just fire.”

  Arrows streaked through the air; the whistle of them competing with the ringing of steel and the cries of the unlucky.

  Dystance Camp

  I HEARD A new sound coming from the sky. I had nothing to compare it to, but I was convinced it was menacing. I could not spare the time to find this new threat...and yet it seemed to be far enough away as to not be of consequence. The high-pitched whistle ended in the wails of Ferals. Whatever was happening was detrimental to them, and that was fine with me. I slashed two more of them before that invisible signal was once again given and they pulled back. I thought about giving chase as they exposed their backs to me, but once I looked over the field, I could see downed bodies riddled with what looked like small spears, and they were still being thrown from the trees. I could only watch as more and more of our foe was impaled.

  “Arrows,” Cedar said.

  “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” I said as I slipped out of my fugue state.

  “It was close a couple of times.”

  “Tallow?”

  “He took a blow to the leg, but otherwise he looks alright. Who do you think is shooting those?”

  We were both watching. I could only shake my head. The range of this new weapon had us at a distinct disadvantage. When they decided to shoot our way we could offer up little else except hiding. “I think the question might be why are they helping us? That is exactly what is happening. They could have just as easily waited for the Ferals to finish us.”

  The numbers that melted back into the woods were considerably short of what had attacked us. We were safe from them, for now at least. This new opponent, though, was one to be feared.

  “Look!” Cedar exclaimed, pointing. Two men with broadswords came out of the woods off to our left, followed by a dozen or so of the arrow throwers.

  “We should get everyone behind the rocks.”

  The misery within the enclosure stunk of fear, defecation, potential infection, and death. The Ferals had paid a large price in human life trying to take our fortification, but we also had suffered some grievous wounds. At least a dozen of us were dead and another twenty or so were injured. Some would not recover, especially without bandages or any way to clean out their wounds. I was disgusted with the Brokers for leaving us without even the most basic medical supplies. Disease would set in and they would die pain-laden deaths. The Fe
rals had done our wounded no favors by not finishing the job. The practicality with which I thought of their suffering seemed callous, and it was in direct contrast to the sorrow I felt for them; I couldn't think about what we had really lost; I turned my back on my fallen friends and faced the field. Tallow joined Cedar and myself atop the rocks once the living were retrieved and safely behind the wall again.

  “There’s only fourteen of them; should we just rush them?” Tallow questioned.

  “We wouldn’t make it halfway there.” Of that I was positive.

  “They have bow and arrows,” Cedar said. “What? I read about them, they used them a lot during the medieval times.”

  “The what times?” Tallow asked.

  “One of them has a white flag!”

  “Well, come on, Cedar. Obviously you know what it means,” I prodded.

  “They want to talk,” she said, pleased with herself.

  “About what? Maybe we should get a bunch of people together to go out and meet them, then kill them.” Tallow was watching intently as the men traversed the open space.

  “That sort of treachery is frowned upon,” Cedar explained.

  “This is war,” he said, as if she didn’t have a clue to what was going on.

  “Especially during war,” she corrected him.

  “They’ve stopped,” I said while Tallow and Cedar verbally sparred.

  “Oh, yeah–we’re supposed to meet them halfway,” Cedar told us.

  “I’ll go.” Tallow jumped down off the rocks.

  “Not alone.” I jumped down as well.

  “I’m not staying here.” Cedar followed.

  “Winter, Cedar, just stay here. It won’t look good if I bring women.”

  “Did he really just say that out loud?” Cedar said, aghast, looking at me.

  “That...that didn’t come out the way I meant it.”