by David Oliver
Unnoticed by all but one.
Chapter 18
Unseen Helper
Punching my way out of the snowhole was remarkably similar to clawing my way out of the avalanche. For a moment the same panic rose in my chest; the once comforting walls of the night suddenly imposing, confining. Desperation tingeing my movements I struck upwards, outwards and then I was free, my good hand breaking through the crust and into the outside world, my panic instantly easing. Strange how such a simple thing can make the difference between being a mindless, panicked animal or a functioning human being. Now that my nerves had settled I patiently cleared out the rest of the snow that blocked the entrance before slithering out into the sun.
The world below was a thing of beauty. The sky was clear and the sun dazzlingly bright, gleaming rays reflecting and refracting off the ice and snow to coat the landscape in a kaleidoscope of colours. Honestly, if we weren’t sitting in an avalanche zone I could have stayed there for days watching that vista. As it was I saw something else that raised my eyebrows and a whole host of questions. For sitting some ten feet in front of the entrance to the snow hole, a light dusting of snow failing to disguise the brown leather, was one of our packs.
“Well...that’s surprising,” Ella murmured from behind me as she extricated herself from the den and walked over. “Did we miss it in the dark?”
“No way,” I said. “Absolutely no way. I mean…” I gestured exasperatedly at the pack, “it’s right there! We would have basically been lying on top of it when digging the snow hole!”
“What’s the matter?” came a muffled voice from within.
“It appears we have a mysterious benefactor,” Ella replied dryly, moving aside to make way for the others. One by one they crawled out, gasped at the view and then goggled at the innocuously placed bag.
None of us approached it for a long time. Whether due to the deep suspicion of all things good inherent in all Imperators and their ilk or in case it might have been some kind of hunger and snow induced mirage I couldn’t say. Eventually Cassius grabbed his sword, walked up to the quietly waiting bag and with a finesse refined through years of sword practice he tentatively poked it in the side. When nothing happened he crouched down next to the bag, gingerly brushed away the snow and opened the top. He spent a few moments looking inside and rummaging through the contents, before standing up and brushing snow from his knees.
“It’s Rikol’s bag,” he said, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “All his stuff. Food, clothing, weapons - it’s all there. Untouched.”
“Before I realise that I haven’t regained my sanity,” said Scythe slowly, “can we all confirm that there is no way in the seven pits of Arshuderan that we each missed this pack last night?”
“No way,” said Sophia, her voice dripping with incredulity. “We all stumbled and walked across here last night, kicking aside snow and fighting the weather. The visibility wasn’t so bad when Calidan first got us out from under the snow that we wouldn’t have seen this.”
Rikol looked up at the rockface above him. “Another avalanche in the night?”
Ella snorted. “Disregarding the fact that we would likely all be dead, why would your pack be somehow above us waiting to be swept down by another avalanche?” She shook her head. “No, this wasn’t some random coincidence...this was placed here.”
It’s what we had all been thinking but hearing the words out loud set cautious eyes to scanning the surrounding mountainside, hunting for any sign of whoever was seemingly looking out for us but to no avail. Even with my enhanced senses the storm strength winds the night before had removed all scent or tracks; ensuring that there was nothing left to go on except pure guesswork.
“So...” I said, slowly drawing out the word once everyone had studiously examined the pack and the mountain and found them both wanting. “Anyone want to hazard a guess?”
“Could someone have followed us up here?” Sophia asked, her voice suggesting that she didn’t think it likely.
“Without any of us noticing?” Cassius replied. “The weather wasn’t that bad until after the avalanche. It was bright and sunny, and the route we took up didn’t exactly leave that many places to hide.” He paused to consider his next words. “Perhaps from above us? It would explain why we didn’t see whoever it was earlier in the day.”
“Potentially,” Scythe mused. “But if they were friendly then why not just help us out by introducing themselves or waiting until we discovered this pack and then doing so? Just seems like a strange way of doing things.”
I nodded my head in agreement. “So we have someone or something that seemingly wants to help us without being seen. I’m fine with that for the time being. Plus,” my nose sniffed the air, “I think that he, she or it wants us to go back down the mountain.”
“How do you figure that?” Cassius asked.
I pointed down the mountain. “Because the only thing I can smell that isn’t us is sun-baked leather and it’s coming from where we came.” I looked at the others and then up the route we had been attempting to take. “I think that we can agree that a force of Hrudan couldn’t easily make it over this part of the mountain. Without supplies we aren’t going to last long and things will be difficult enough as it is unless our friend intends to deliver all our packs to us. I suggest we head back down the mountain and find what we can to help us survive.”
It took a few minutes of discussion but eventually everyone agreed on the course of action and we slowly began making our way back down the mountain, slipping and sliding along the treacherous surfaces. Along the way we found Sophia’s bag placed on an exposed outcropping that was easily visible in the noonday sun. Ella’s bag we found at the base of the mountain just as the light was beginning to draw to a close. We built another snow hole, ate a little of the dried food within the three rescued packs and fell into another exhausted slumber.
After an uneventful night we once again emerged, blinking, into the bright morning sun. The cuts on my arm had begun to close up, scabbing over in a grisly process that entailed no end of itching. My shoulder throbbed incessantly but I listened to Cassius’s advice and kept it as immobile as possible. I knew just how long a normal human would have been out of action with such an injury - even with my reduced healing speed and judging by the recovery from the mountain lion attack I figured it would be a few days rather than months before I regained full mobility.
It had been nearly four weeks since we left the fort and the weather was continually becoming more punishing. Considering our situation, which had been growing steadily more dire even before losing our packs and nearly dying in an avalanche, it was prudent to turn back and head towards the fort and its relative safety as soon as possible, which was something that we were all more than happy to do. However when scouting the surrounding area for berries to complement our meagre breakfast I found one of Cassius’s knives pinned into a tree just north of our tiny camp and beneath it was a crudely drawn arrow pointing further along the mountain range in the opposite direction to the fort. We dithered for a little while but in the end there was only one choice that could be made. We were all far too determined to find out who was leaving this information and supporting us to turn back now - we just had to hope that there would be more supplies somewhere ahead.
And supplies there were indeed. A whole train of them.
Two days of walking following badly hacked signs in trees had us hiding in a small forest and watching the tell-tale smoke signals of multiple campfires curling into the sky not a half mile away. Our hidden benefactor had not yet been revealed though I had a sneaking suspicion growing within my chest as to the identity of our friend. Brush crackled to my left as Cassius slithered his way back through the undergrowth, freshly returned from his scouting. The others were further back and waiting for the two of us - thanks to Seya’s training we were the two best at moving silently through the undergrowth - to return with news.
He nodded at me, his expression grave. “Hrudan, no doubt abo
ut it,” he whispered.
“How many did you count?”
“Roughly sixty men by my reckoning,” he replied. “Looks like they are busy trying to fortify the approach to the mountain. I couldn’t get close enough for a proper look but I would put money on the pass being up there.”
I nodded in agreement; his numbers tallied with mine. “Looks very much like the Hrudan want to keep their foothold on the heartland doesn’t it?” I murmured. “Reckon that the Meredothians know of this?”
“Some must have, though whether it is just small communities that live nearby or they have been killed for their knowledge or even colluding with the Hrudan, who can say?”
“Well, we’re certainly in the middle of nowhere as far as I can tell,” I said with a sigh. “No sign of any forts or villages nearby. And Jadira certainly didn’t know of any places of note up here.”
Cassius gave a wry smile. “Kinda reminds me of home - there weren’t that many who knew of our village if I remember rightly. Just that one trader who visited every now and again. Could be that there are places like that dotted around here that are hard to find. It’s certainly no part of the Empire that’s for sure, otherwise there would be fortified locations all over the place along with their many roads, people and associated stink.”
I almost laughed aloud; Cassius has never been a big fan of the vivid smell of Andurran cities. “Should try going into the capital with a nose like mine,” I replied softly. “No wonder Seya tries her utmost to stay out of the cities, she can smell them from miles away.” My thoughts turned towards the big cat and her absence at my side. Seya, I hope you’re well, I thought and then with an effort I refocused on the task at hand. “Thoughts on the approach?”
Cassius shook his head. “Difficult. They’ve cleared any nearby trees and there isn’t much brush that hasn’t been trampled or cut down. Getting close would have to be done in the dark, unless you somehow managed to use the cliff faces and climbed laterally to get above them.” He gave a pointed look at my scabbed over arm which was healing rapidly but still covered in lacerations. “Something that you aren’t going to be doing, that’s for sure.”
I grimaced. “Agreed. It looks like a tricky approach and as soon as they are alerted they hold every advantage. The only thing that comes to mind is rushing them under the cover of darkness, but against sixty men that seems foolish.”
The two of us bounced ideas back and forth for another minute and then headed back through the undergrowth to where the rest of the group lay in wait, hidden from prying eyes. It didn’t take long to fill them in on the terrain and the forces arrayed against us and soon we began discussing ideas for how to remove the Hrudan threat. None of us were for a direct assault, the weight of numbers on the enemy side was far too much of a threat for our small force. Sophia suggested returning to Jadira and coming back with more men, but that was quickly dissuaded due to the distances involved and the length of time it would take to get there and return. We talked, planned and squabbled late into the night before finally turning in with our approach undecided.
We awoke just before dawn to Rikol shaking us awake. “Something is up at the camp,” he hissed as we all groggily shook off the last vestiges of sleep. Minutes later we were overlooking the encampment and watching with curious eyes as men finished up attaching horses to laden carts. Just after dawn three carts and a detachment of twenty men left the fortifications and began a slow walk west, fighting against the snow with every step.
“A supply train,” Sophia whispered, her eyes alight. “They must have more men further west. Another camp perhaps. This is our chance! We could hit the train, take their supplies and that leaves the men here with less troops and an easier target.”
She wasn’t wrong and she knew it. It would be a dangerous play, for twenty men strung out along the wagons was still going to be a difficult job, but we desperately needed new supplies. And not just food, but clothing too, I thought, looking at my blue tinged hands. Even with no deaths and relatively minor injuries that avalanche had cost us far too much and it was only with the packs retrieved by our mutual benefactor that we hadn’t lost fingers or limbs to frostbite. In the end it didn’t take long to reach a decision.
“Let’s do it,” I said to nods all round.
Three hours later we were roughly four miles from the encampment and following the supply train as they fought against the elements. Whilst Cassius and I had been good naturedly griping about the Andurran Empire the previous day it was easy to see the benefits of roads over dirt tracks. The wagons were becoming bogged down every few paces, the snow hiding multitudes of dangers and sending the beleaguered troops mad with frustration. It didn’t take long for the soldiers guarding the wagons to become complacent with more of them being drafted in to assist with lifting the wagons out of ditches than keeping watch. We drifted like ghosts alongside the train, waiting for the ideal opportunity. It didn’t take long before the perfect moment arose. The supposed trail that the wagons were following moved into a thicker part of forest, a place where more competent guards would have been on high alert, but these ones were worn out and tired from the incessant problems with the wagons and so made our job far too easy.
Slowly we spread out until we were just ahead of the wagons, closing the distance until we were standing behind trees bare feet away from the track. The unknowing soldiers trudged past, heads bowed against the snow and hauling or pushing the wagon loads. Our attack took them completely by surprise. We closed in from all sides, moving silently with blades bared. The first few kills were quiet, taking those at the rear of the train so the ones upfront were unaware of the attack. In a perfect world we could have done the entire thing quietly, however death is a messy business and people tend to scream if you don’t place your blade correctly. An unfortunate soul got a blade stuck in his ribs rather than the heart and his wheezing cry of pain turned the others towards the sound. Before they’d even had time to discern what they were seeing we were upon them. They were slow from fatigue and cold whilst we were relatively fresh and, more importantly, were desperate for supplies. We ripped through them like a warm knife through butter. Arrows thrummed, blades sang and men died.
Against that number of warriors it should have been a messy and desperate fight, particularly considering their armour. And if we had been fighting them head-to-head on an open plain we would have been at a sore disadvantage. Here their armour counted for little aside from having wearied them during the trek through the tundra, and the close quarters meant that their axes were difficult to use - not that we gave them much opportunity. A few short and bloody minutes later we were victorious, breathing heavily and resting against the heavily laden wagons whilst wiping blood coated swords against anything that wasn’t sprayed with gore.
“Well,” panted Rikol as he systematically wiped his multitude of knives against the cloth of the wagon, “that went better than expected.”
“And what did you expect?” asked Sophia dryly.
“Oh, most of us dead or grievously wounded. Six of us against twenty didn’t exactly make for good odds,” he replied with a sardonic smile.
Sophia snorted and continued hunting for arrows that she could reuse, calling back over her shoulder as she moved, “Ever the optimist eh Rikol?”
“Always.”
I moved up to the wagon where Cassius was slicing through the ropes that held the protective tarp in place. The others soon joined and quickly we had the tarp off and the contents exposed. And what contents they were! Boxes of dried jerky and smoked meats lined the first cart alongside heavy woollen cloaks and thick furs. The second wagon held whetstones, bows, axes and even an anvil. The third held barrels of musty grain and boxes marked with black rope. Whoever had been intending to receive these items was obviously in the process of entrenching themselves within the heartland and logic dictated that they had set up a relatively large encampment if they had been sent an anvil to begin forging new supplies. Cassius levered off the lid of one of t
he black twined barrels and stared inside before lifting a hand to his nose, black grained sand running through his fingers.
“Black powder,” he murmured, wiping his hands free of the explosive dust. “Someone’s planning on blasting something for sure.”
“Slaves,” Ella said quietly. “The slaves from the village - could be they didn’t go back through the pass. Could be that the Hrudan have them mining.”
“Could they do that without the Meredothians knowing?” Scythe asked.
“Don’t see why not,” she replied. “It’s a pretty big slice of land and seemingly sparsely populated. What if instead of just raiding via the pass the Hrudan decided to set up shop and not leave?”
“What does it matter?” asked Rikol. “Our goal is obvious.” He shrugged at our questioning glances then carried on. “We forget about the Hrudan on this side of the mountains and focus on stopping more getting in - or out. We seal the pass and let the Meredothians do the rest.”
“We could be leaving people to die,” Cassius murmured quietly.
“And those slaves could be in the camp at the pass right now,” Rikol shot back. “This is all hypothetical. We should work on the evidence,” his gaze took in the wagons, “and the equipment that we have.”
“He’s right,” I said, refusing to wilt under Ella’s glare. “We would waste time hunting for wherever this caravan was headed. Time that we could use to stop more Hrudan from coming through the pass. It solves our mission with Jadira far better than I imagine she expected.” I settled my hand on the black powder. “We blow the pass using their own tools and bring the mountain side down on their heads.”