by Samuel Fort
Chapter 37: Snowstorm
Fiela turned to Callis as the remnants of her once magnificent squadron rode toward Sam’s homestead. “What’s the damage?”
“Ninety-three dead and forty-four seriously wounded, most of those with severed limbs. Eight are missing, though I believe-”
“I know,” said the queen. Some of the bodies were so decimated that identification was impossible. There were more bodies than heads, which made an accurate casualty assessment problematic. “How many Peth did we have to leave behind?”
“Thirteen, not including the two medics tending them. Perhaps half of those will not make it through the night.”
“Is the radio lost?” the girl asked. One of the dead was the squadron’s radiomen. He, the radio in his pack, and the nearby antenna kit were crushed when the temple monster fell on them.
“Beyond repair, Annasa.”
“Send one messenger to the nearest Steepleguard outpost and another to Denver International. Send our best riders and give them out best horses. Send a detailed account of what happened and say that the temple must be destroyed. If either can send combat engineers, that would be best. The building is made of heavy stones and we are without machinery. It will not be an easy task.”
Callis said, “Annasa, what shall I say with regard to our expedition to the east, to join the king?”
Fiela stifled a sigh. Now, more than ever, she wanted to be with her husband. Ideally, she would continue east with the remnant of the Red Guard. Even with night falling. The survivors were Ordunas and, weary as they were, they would follow her without complaint. But it would be tyrannical to demand that much from them. Nor could she travel alone. Thal would demand to accompany her, and Fiela needed Sam for the marriage ceremony. They had to be tended to and protected.
She said, “Have the airport messenger relay my command that Lord Disparthian bring his entire squadron here. We shall combine forces and I will continue to the king with the main body, commanded by you. Lord Disparthian will keep a troop here to deal with the temple.”
A bitterly cold wind erupted from the north, accompanied by a flurry of snowflakes. “Let us hope the weather cooperates.”
The weather did not cooperate.
By the time the two messengers left, blinding sheets of snow had begun descending from the heavens. By the time the Red Guard’s survivors reached Sam’s homestead, more than a foot of snow had fallen, and the pace seemed only to be increasing. The wind was so powerful that the Peth leaned forward in their saddles to avoid being blown off their horses. The horses, too, suffered, struggling to traverse the deep snows as the flesh on their legs froze. The snow was so ubiquitous that it hid even the sky. The world was nothing but ribbons of gray and white.
Captain Callis and his Peth set up a tight perimeter around Sam’s property. The new commander, anxious to avoid cold weather injuries, devised a schedule that allowed every Peth fifteen minutes of shelter in Sam’s home for every two hours spent in the harsh conditions outside. During those reprieves the weary men and women were directed to chairs adjacent to the fireplace, warmed with blankets, and given large mugs of piping hot coffee.
Fiela had told Sam and Thal of the day’s events. She was not surprised that the two seemed initially skeptical of her tale. Yet as the same tale was relayed to them by each of the Peth survivors who came to warm themselves by the fire, skepticism became concern.
“Could there be more such things?” asked Thal.
“We only saw the one,” replied Fiela, sitting across from the woman and Sam at the crude dinner table. “It looked a little like Bashmu, but without legs or wings.”
“Bash what?” asked Sam.
Thal answered. “Bashmu is a monster from our mythology. Some say it was a god, or demi-god. In carvings it appears as a giant snake, sometimes with wings or legs.”
“This one did not have arms or legs, though,” noted Fiela. “It came from the temple. I would not be surprised if more bad things came from it. I think this was the first such creature, though. Otherwise the bodies inside would have been disrupted during our first visit. What I don’t understand is why the thing only appeared now. We were at the temple before and nothing happened.”
“Delayed fuse,” offered Sam. “Or a schedule we don’t know about. Could be a lot of things.”
Thal asked, “Can the building be destroyed?”
“Not by us. Sam knows. It is made of very large blocks. I think its builders intended for it to be difficult to destroy.”
Sam nodded. “We’d need heavy-duty machines to take that thing down.”
“Which we don’t have,” added Fiela.
“Are we safe here?” asked Thal, looking worried.
Fiela sipped her coffee. “For now. I did not sense that the monster was intelligent. It was more like a wild beast that lashed out at anything that crossed its path. I do not think it is gifted with an ability to hunt prey over longer distances.” She shrugged. “That’s my guess.”
Sam pursed his lips. “Let’s hope you’re right. We’re not going anywhere, not in this weather. We’re stranded. At least for a week.”
Fiela didn’t care for the man’s assessment. “The snow will stop, Sam, and when it does, Lord Disparthian’s force will join us here and we will continue east.”
Sam shook his head. “This isn’t like the old days. Even if the snow does stop, what has fallen is going to stay in place. There aren’t any snow plows to clear the roads. Four feet of snow tomorrow will be four feet of snow a week from now. How do you propose to move through that?”
The girl gave the man a hard look. “I must reach my husband, Sam.”
“I understand, Fiela, but you have to face the facts. It ain’t just the snow. That temple or whatever it is won’t go away anytime soon. It might have pumped out a dozen more of those bashmu critters since you made your way here. They might be wandering the countryside just looking for something to chew on.”
Thal cleared her throat. “It’s late. Let’s evaluate our options tomorrow.”
Seeing the woman’s sideways glance, Sam relented. “Oh, sure. We’re just tired, that’s all, and I’m always grumpy at night. I’m sure we’ll come up with a plan tomorrow.” He rose and pointed at a door opposite the fireplace. “You two can have Celeste’s room.”
“Thank you, Sam,” replied Thal. “Fiela, go ahead. I have things to attend to and shall join your shortly.”
Fiela saw a small photograph in a wooden frame on Celeste’s nightstand. It was a photo of a young man and woman, undoubtedly the girl’s parents. The woman faced the camera, smiling and holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket. The man standing next to her looked down at the child, a single finger extended, which the child grasped in its tiny hand. His smile was more meditative, as if he were somehow mesmerized by the miracle of the little girl’s birth and all her potential.
“Celeste’s parents?” asked Thal, entering the room.
“Yes.” Fiela ran a finger reverentially over the faces of the couple, as if their images were sacred. “They look happy, do they not?”
“They do.”
Fiela stared at the photo several seconds longer. “The man looks a little like Ben.”
Thal thought that required more than a little of imagination. She nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
The two spent a few minutes unpacking before there was a knock at the door. Thal opened it. Fiela stared after her and saw an object being handed to the woman. It was metal bucket with steam rising from its interior.
When Thal had closed the door, Fiela asked, “What is that?”
“Hot water. Another bucket is on the way.” The woman moved to the center of the room and with a grunt lowered the bucket to the floor. “You’re filthy. You covered in blood and dirt and there’s this gross stuff in your hair that looks like brain tissue.”
“It’s brains,” acknowledged Fiela. “Bashmu brains.”
Thal retrieved a cheap plastic chair from beneath Celeste’s
petite white vanity. Placing the chair next to an old galvanized wash basin she’d placed in the room earlier, she motioned for Fiela approach.
“Strip. I’ll soak your clothes. You’ll have to wear something else tomorrow. We don’t have the luxury of an electric dryer.”
The girl complied, placing her clothes on the floor before walking gingerly to the designated area and sitting in the chair. She crossed her arms in front of her chest as Thal moved behind her. A moment later, she felt a quilt being draped over her body.
“Your hair is going to take a few minutes,” Thal said. “Tilt your head back.” The girl felt hot water being poured over her head. The excess falling into the basin made a sound like rain falling on a tin roof. Fiela found the experience exhilarating. The scent of perfumed soap made her dizzy.
“Ohhhh…” she moaned, as Thal massaged the soap into her scalp.
“Brains,” muttered the woman above her. “This is a first.”
“Mmm,” replied Fiela, not caring. The hot water, perfumed soap, and Thal’s methodical, gentle massages were heavenly. She felt herself drifting off to sleep.
She was rudely woken by another knock at the door. Thal, wringing water from the girl’s hair, said, “That’s the other bucket. Stay where you are.”
A moment later the woman was back. “Okay, stand up in the basin and give me the quilt.”
Fiela did as instructed. Thal began scrubbing. She moved quickly, knowing the hot water would turn cold as it trickled down the girl’s body. She said, “Rest easy. I promise not to venture into forbidden zones.”
A few minutes later, Thal handed her the rag. “Finish. I will collect your clothes and soak them in the other bucket.”
Fiela rolled her eyes to one side. “Might I have a minute alone to finish?”
“I promise not to look, Aphrodite.”
“Truly? You don’t mind?”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
Fiela shrugged. “Okay.”
Thal picked up some clothes from the floor and turned down the blanket on the bed, then turned toward the girl, saying, “I think I will-”
She froze. “Oh! Gods! Oh!” She dropped what was in her hands. Fiela was on her knees in the basin. Thal stumbled quickly toward the door. “There is a towel just there.” She nodded toward a nearby dresser, averting her eyes. “I’ll clean up when you are, um…”
She fled from the room.
An hour later the two lay huddled together in the tiny bed, shivering despite the many layers of blankets and quilts.
Fiela said quietly, “Whew! I feel reborn.”
The woman behind her was sure she did.
“That was a brilliant idea,” the girl added. “The bath, I mean.”
Thal replied, “The entirety of my accomplishments today consist of obtaining two buckets of water. It is not much.”
“It is, though,” protested the girl. “You take care of me.”
“That is easy.”
“No, it’s not.”
Thal hugged her. “You killed a bashmu. How easy was that?”
Fiela shrugged and whispered, “Pretty easy.”
Then she was snoring.