by C S Vass
“Tell me what you know,” Godwin said quickly.
Octovos smiled. Seeing Godwin’s expression he said, “Pardon me. You must understand, I thought I was going to have to haggle with you tonight. But seeing as how you are this eager to find my niece as well, it seems that won’t be necessary. I’m relieved, that’s all. Having the sword of the Hero of Saebyl is no small thing from what I understand.”
“I’m waiting,” Godwin said, ignoring the compliment.
“She arrived in Saebyl with a dwarf. They were able to find lodging together for a few nights. The innkeeper there was taking Grushenka’s coin, which is how we know some of what transpired next. For some reason I cannot imagine, Lyra got it in her head that she had to go to the Frost Forest. She apparently tried to convince the dwarf to join her, but he adamantly refused. The two parted ways.”
“What happened to the dwarf?” Godwin asked. Of all the crazy things. Why would Lyra want to go into the Frost Forest?
“He left the city. Other than that, I have no idea.”
“Surely you’ve sent men after her?” Godwin asked.
“I did,” Octovos said. “As did my gracious host. There were only two outcomes for those we sent to those woods.”
“Which were?”
“Dead, or insane.”
“Insane? What do you mean?”
Octovos shifted uncomfortably. “Far be it from me to suggest what is transpiring here in the West. All I can say is the men who were not outright killed are no longer mentally sound. They babble incoherently.”
“About anything in particular?”
“All manner of nonsense. But…well, you see, there is something strange. A common thread in all of the ramblings. They speak a similar phrase during the height of their episodes. It’s always something about dragons.”
“Dragons?” Godwin asked, wrinkling his nose. “The kind that walks or the kind that flies?”
“I have no idea,” Octovos went on. “It’s always the same type of thing. ‘Wait for the dragons.’ ‘Have you seen those dragons?’ ‘The terrible dragons.’ ‘Have you heard the song of the dragons?’ ‘Dragons are coming to eat the world.’ You get the idea.”
“Godwin?” Robert asked, looking to his friend. “What do you make of that?”
“There’s nothing I can make of it,” Godwin said.
“I assume you’ll want to speak to the survivors,” Rockhelm said.
“No. I don’t think that will be necessary. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”
“Godwin,” Jon Octovos said, meeting the Shigata’s eyes. “I’m asking you seriously. Go to the Frost Forest. Bring my niece to me. I will take her back across the sea to her home. I cannot rest without knowing what fate has befallen her. Do this, and I will give you any boon I can.”
“Typically the Shigata are fond of money,” Robert put in. The glares of Godwin and Denver Rockhelm shrunk Robert into a corner of the couch.
“Money is no obstacle,” Octovos said. “Bring back Lyra, and I will make you fantastically rich.”
Godwin considered carefully. It was bizarre. He had intended all along to make his way to the Frost Forest so that he might speak with the elven mages of the far north about the Prophecy. He just never imagined anyone would want to make the journey with him. Now Lyra had traveled there of her own free will—gods could only guess at why.
There was nothing to be done. Only one path lay before him. “I’ll take what we can agree is fair pay if I find her,” Godwin said. “But I’m going to need something else from you. From both of you.”
Octovos glanced at Lord Rockhelm. “Anything, Godwin,” the Tarsurian commander said.
“You two are going to figure out some way to prevent this insanity of a third Bloodwater War. I don’t care what it takes. The West has bled enough, and there’s much more blood to come from the Southlands.”
“I will redouble my efforts,” Octovos said seriously.
“As will I,” Rockhelm agreed. “So long as we all understand the utmost secrecy of what we spoke of here tonight. It does us no good if Hercinium gets wind of this somehow and puts our Commander’s head on a spike.” It was not lost on Godwin that Rockhelm’s eyes were staring at Robert as he spoke.
“We know how to keep our mouths shut, Lord Rockhelm,” Godwin said. “Don’t you worry.”
That uneasy, amused look came back into Rockhelm’s eyes. “Very good,” he said, reaching for the jar. “I believe we’re in need of another toast.”
Chapter 22
“Are there demons in the Frost Forest?”
“There are demons everywhere, Robert. Now be silent, I’m trying to concentrate.”
Godwin has not anticipated the sudden unease with which Robert had reacted to their landing. The Frost Forest, the vast expanse of northern woods that marked the end of Boldfrost’s realm, stretched before them. The forest was close enough to Saebyl that they could still see the city’s high walls in the distance. Still, a short bay stood between them and the safety of those walls. Godwin and Robert had taken a tiny cog capable of carrying just a few people and made the journey in an hour.
“What is it you’re concentrating on, exactly?” Robert asked.
The easterner moved closer to see the parchment Godwin was looking at. Before they left, one of Rockhelm’s men gave it to him. It was a poorly drawn and (most likely) highly inaccurate map of the Frost Forest. From what was written on it, there were scattered elven cities throughout, but using that pathetic excuse for cartography wouldn’t help them any better than their own eyes.
“I think we’re on our own,” Godwin said as he folded the parchment and tucked it away.
“Why would Lyra have come here?” Robert asked. “What’s in these woods?”
“Besides a group of radical separatist elves? I don’t know. Octovos was lucky that Rockhelm was willing to send men in here. He likely knew it was a suicide mission.”
Robert grimaced at Godwin’s words. “But doesn’t that mean…Lyra…”
“Don’t despair. It’s true that the Frost Elves are generally hostile, but they are not monsters. There are tales of people, particularly women, and particularly of the youthful variety, who have broken bread among the tribes and lived to tell of it.”
Robert scoffed. “Doesn’t do us much good, does it?”
“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” Godwin admitted. “Still, I’m a Shigata with silver eyes. You’re a Tarsurian. The elves here have a quarrel with Boldfrost, true. But their animosity may be greater towards men wearing his paw on their armor than towards us. Their sympathies might extend to outsiders such as ourselves. Particularly since many of their cousins have turned up here as refugees in recent weeks. Who knows? Perhaps that’s made them more open-minded to visitors.”
“From the Southlands?” Robert asked. “How many miles is that? How would they have done it?”
“When death is chasing you, there’s always a way to bridge the distance.”
With no way of concocting a better plan, Godwin and Robert entered the ominous labyrinth of blue-white trees. The air was colder than in Saebyl, and the forest had grown so thick that not much sunlight reached them. Godwin was grateful that Rockhelm had seen them equipped with coats of durable cowhide lined with fantastically warm arctic fox fur to wear over their normal leather armor. Stiff as Saebyl’s lord might have been, he could not be accused of being tightfisted.
Despite their comfortable garments, the two had more to worry about than their warmth. The Sages had not taught Godwin much about the Frost Forest. The general consensus in the West was to avoid it. No cities or towns except Saebyl were within a day’s journey to the northern woods, so no one ever issued a contract to deal with roaming demons. The uncertainty worried Godwin far more than if his expedition would have taken him into the known dangers of the Frost Forest’s sister region, the Blood Wood, that prowled with demons at the end of the Southlands.
“Surely you can make something?” Robert asked after they had walked a ways
with no indication that they were moving in an appropriate direction. “Some type of potion that will allow us to find her?”
“My supplies were destroyed in the shipwreck,” Godwin reminded him. “I haven’t stocked up.”
“But why not?” Robert pressed. “Surely Rockhelm would have given you whatever you needed from his personal stores.”
“No doubt he will when we return,” Godwin said.
“But why—”
“Leave it be, Robert. We will find Lyra with our gods-given senses.” Godwin shifted uncomfortably and thought of the burning pain in his thrygta. The liquid uranium that had been enchanted and poured right into the magic that ran through his skin. He had not told Robert of the incident, nor did he want to. In truth the Shigata was worried that after the incident, any potion he might drink could have unintended consequences. He would need time to take small doses of his concoctions to see if they reacted differently. Time he did not have.
“Very, well,” Robert said. “I just hope we find somewhere to settle before we have to make camp in these woods.”
“Then we better keep moving.”
They travelled the better part of the morning without seeing anything more interesting than a few frozen streams. Though the sun gradually ascended, the air did not seem to get any warmer. Nor did they see any sign of wildlife. No broken sticks in the ground or deer tracks. Godwin supposed the upside to that was that they also were avoiding any potential demonic forces.
“I wonder where Yaura is,” Robert said suddenly.
“Kicking her feet up in Sylvester Shade’s castle, drinking fine wine and eating roast boar right off the bone,” Godwin said. “I guess you picked the wrong traveling companion.”
Robert ignored the sarcasm. “Do you think we’ll see her again?” he asked. “Will she return to Black Wolf when we do?”
“Of course, put the thought out of your—”
The two of them stopped dead in their tracks. Godwin had instinctively stepped in front of Robert to shield him, but there was no point. What gave them pause was indisputably dead.
The corpse was fresh. The blood had barely congealed around the wounds that had ripped through it. What was most striking, however, was the look of utmost horror on the man’s face.
“A captain,” Godwin said, noting the wolf’s head that the corpse wore over his own. “Killed by the sword.”
“Well Rockhelm wasn’t lying,” Robert said. “They really did send soldiers in here. They really did meet a bad fate.”
“The Frost Elves have always been territorial,” Godwin remarked. “But still, I can’t imagine these soldiers would have been stupid enough to openly brandish weapons or escalate the situation. Can it be that the eves are really killing on sight now?”
“My knowledge on the subject fails me, friend,” Robert said. The easterner started to draw his swords.
“Sheath those you fool,” Godwin snapped. “Did you not hear what I just said?”
“Right, sorry.”
“Well, we’re on the right track to find something,” Godwin said. “I just don’t know exactly what.”
A strong gust of wind shot through the trees, sending icy waves throughout Godwin’s body. “Come on,” the Shigata said. “We have to keep going. We have to find Lyra. Find out why she came here. It’s not just about my responsibility to her. She’s related to a powerful commander in the East. Getting her home safely could go a long way towards giving us credibility with a leader in the Tarsurian Empire.”
Robert nodded. “I think you’re—oh fuck!”
Alert, Godwin raised his arms. He had to fight his own instincts not to draw his blade. Glancing about, he saw what made Robert suddenly start.
“What…what is that, Godwin?”
The Shigata had no idea.
Two figures had emerged from the woods. They had the tall, limber bodies of Frost Elves, but their skin was an odd deep blue color he had never seen before. It wasn’t the skin color that gave Godwin pause. It was the wild, ravenous look on their faces. It was a look he had seen on rabid dogs, but never on a sentient being. Each elf had burning silver eyes.
Uncertainly, Godwin raised the palms of his hands. “Greetings, we come here in peace. We’re searching for our friend. A young human girl who wandered into these woods. Can you help?”
“Godwin,” Robert said, nearing a panic. “I don’t think they can hear you.”
Godwin was inclined to agree. The two elf-creatures did not have the slightest light of consciousness in their silver eyes. Their strange blue skin glowed eerily against the white snow that surrounded them. They wore tattered robes of black, seemingly unaffected by their bare skin’s exposure to the bitter cold.
Not wanting to escalate things without reason, Godwin tried again. “I am a Shigata,” he said. “I’m a friend to the Frost Elves. I seek your aid. What say you?”
One of the beings looked like it was trying to speak. It’s throat waggled strangely as it sputtered on its own tongue. Spastically, its mouth opened, and it unleashed a hellish banshee shriek that pierced through Godwin’s skull.
They attacked.
Godwin had just enough time to raise his blade and deflect a horizontal blow meant to cut him in two at the waist. “Fine,” he growled. “If that’s how you want it. Get back, Robert!”
Leaping behind a tree, Robert eagerly allowed Godwin to take command of the fight. The two elves stared at him, hatred glimmering in their silver eyes. Godwin didn’t like that at all. Fighting one Star-blessed was bad enough, but two was nearly unreasonable. Particularly as he had no way of knowing which signs they were born under.
The elves moved like black serpents, striking quickly, and rapidly pulling back. Godwin, having fully recovered from his previous injuries thanks to Grushenka’s care, was able to repel them, but was having difficulty launching a counter attack. The two enemies had fallen into a steady rhythm of one attacking while the other retreated.
Cursing, Godwin’s feet danced wildly as he tried to find an opening. Turning to block the next anticipated attack, the Shigata instead heard the elf shriek. Robert had snuck behind it and cut it with one of his shortswords. Red blood splashed across white snow.
“Ha! You bastard, I knew you had it in you,” Godwin laughed. The joy didn’t last long. Despite the fierce injury along its back, the elf had the strength to pivot and smash Robert hard in the face with the hilt of its blade. Even from his distance, Godwin heard Robert’s nose break as the easterner fell down.
Shouting, Godwin shot forward to avenge his comrade. He speared the elf through the stomach just as it turned around to face him. He felt its teeth press lightly into his neck in an attempt to rip out what flesh it could. Fortunately for the Shigata, the creature died before it could chomp down.
Without wasting time Godwin kicked his dead opponent off of his sword and faced the other. The creature was hissing and snapping like a deranged reptile. Slowly, Godwin faced off with it, raising his sword defensively.
“Are you all right?” he called to Robert without taking his eyes off of his enemy.
“No I’m not fucking all right!” Robert shouted from the ground, his voice distorted. “The fucker cracked my face open.”
“It’s a broken nose, you’ll live,” Godwin said. Smiling wickedly he added, “Unlike our friend here.”
The elf charged, and Godwin met the attack with confidence. Their swords clashed together in midair, sending sound waves reverberating throughout the wilderness. Over and over they clashed with neither side granting the other a moment’s rest. As Godwin’s arms started to burn, he realized that his blows were coming with less force while his opponent’s remained at full strength. He had to make a decision.
Gambling wildly Godwin met the elf’s sword one more time and simultaneously dropped his own while shoulder-rolling behind the elf. His enemy, not expecting the sudden lack of force, stumbled forward. Godwin had just enough time to remove the knife from his boot and plunge it into his foe�
��s neck.
It was over.
“Gods,” Robert moaned while Godwin panted trying to catch his breath. “What was that?”
“A fight,” the Shigata replied. “You did well, Robert. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“I was on Black Wolf, you pompous ass!”
“Doing a lot of ducking and hiding from what Yaura told me. Now relax. It was a compliment. Let me see your face.”
Robert grimaced as Godwin pulled him close. “Don’t be a baby,” the Shigata scoffed. “Looks like a clean break to me. Hold still.”
“Wait, what are you—AH FUCK YOU FUCKING FUCK!”
Godwin tried not to chuckle as Robert recoiled, sputtering in pain. The Shigata had set more than a few broken bones over his years, and this one was no different. “You should be thanking me,” Godwin said. “If we waited until getting back to a healer in Saebyl, then the bones would have already begun to set, and your face would be permanently disfigured.”
“Oh sod off,” Robert grunted. His eyes were already beginning to blacken. If they had to rely on Robert’s talents to pay for lodging for the next few weeks, Godwin suspected they would well be out of luck.
Sitting besides his ally, Godwin stretched out his limbs and made sure nothing was injured that he hadn’t realized. “What were those things, anyway?” Robert asked.
“I don’t know,” Godwin said. “They were Frost Elves once, but something happened. They were like rabid dogs. A curse, I suspect. But who or what would have cursed them, I don’t know.”
“Are you so sure about that, king’s man?” a voice from the trees asked.
Godwin looked up, startled. A true Frost Elf had emerged. He wore clean robes of green against his slightly purple skin and a crown of pearls in his hair. Godwin did not fail to notice the long, curved blade the elf held naked in his left hand.
“I’m not a king’s man,” Godwin said, rising slowly. “I’m Godwin of the Shigata. I’m not an enemy. Understand—they attacked.”
“Quiet,” the elf said. “If I wanted more human lies I would just walk down to that despicable city across the bay. You’ve spilt elf-blood. This matter is out of my hands. Will you come peacefully?”