The Icemark Chronicles: The Cry of the Icemark

by Stuart Hill

  The crowds followed its course as it arced skyward and then fell in a graceful parabola to land deep in the piled stakes of the pyre. Immediately a small flame licked about the fuel-drenched wood and began to grow. The Basilea now gave a signal, and the female soldiers of the Hypolitan all raised their bows and loosed a rain of flaming arrows onto the pyre. After this the housecarls rushed forward and threw in the blazing torches they’d been carrying, and the pyre erupted into a huge ball of fire that sent a blast of heat against the crowds.

  The housecarls resumed their positions and stood watching as the fire settled down to a steady blaze. Now the Wolffolk threw back their heads and began the eerie and mournful howling of their kind, the notes rising up through the octaves and then slowly descending to a silence.

  Thirrin watched as the flames roared up to a great height, illuminating the gray and white winter city with golds and fierce reds. She tried to keep her mind clear as the incredible heat slowly unmade the body of the man who’d been her teacher and guide from the time of her earliest memories. She tried to believe that she was watching the honorable funeral rites of a man who was no more important to her than any other great warrior. But the image of a hugely bearded, laughing face kept forcing its way into her mind’s eye. His bluff and gruff kindness had comforted her through many of her childhood hurts and disappointments, but it was the memory of his ridiculous fluffy slippers that finally made her weep.

  The sight of the stern young warrior-maiden with tears rolling down her rigid cheeks was an image that many of the people in the watching crowds would remember most about the funeral of Redrought Strong-in-the-Arm Lindenshield, Bear of the North, King of the Icemark.

  The council chamber was surprisingly only half full, considering the importance of the meeting that Thirrin had called. At the table there was only the Basilea, the ten members of the ruling council, and five commanders, while Thirrin’s contingent included herself, Oskan, Maggiore Totus, and all of the officers who had marched north with her.

  The new Queen of the Icemark was still getting used to the idea of full command and power, and she’d been arguing with her aunt the Basilea for almost half an hour before the meeting had even properly begun.

  “I will have all my commanders here at the council, including those of the Hypolitan army!” Thirrin said icily. “Not just those that Hypolitan tradition allows.” And she clasped her hands behind her back in an attempt to stop them from shaking.

  Basilea Elemnestra held her niece’s angry gaze for a moment and then said with quiet venom, “But our men are not trained to take part in meetings such as this!”

  “Men have positions of command in your army, don’t they?”

  “Yes. And anything they need to know will be conveyed by their immediate superiors.”

  Thirrin kept her voice low and measured. The slightest waver would show just how scared she was of her formidable aunt. “So they receive all news and plans at secondhand and are robbed of all immediacy. It’s not good enough, Basilea. I want my orders to be heard directly, not conveyed by someone else who may not give the precise emphasis and weight that I want.”

  “It’s not possible for all officers to be at every conference and council. Some commanders will always receive information at secondhand,” the Basilea argued.

  “True. That cannot be helped in armies of any great size. But you want to bar at least ten middle-ranking commanders who could easily be at this briefing simply because they’re men, and I will not have it. It’s unjust, ridiculously old-fashioned, and most important it is an inefficient way to conduct military business. Do you really think that General Scipio Bellorum would allow such hidebound traditions to compromise the workings of his war machine?”

  “Bellorum is a murderous barbarian; I couldn’t possibly say how he would act.”

  Thirrin took a deep, steadying breath. She was determined to at least look as though the Basilea didn’t worry her. “He is the most successful general the known world has ever seen! He took a huge and cumbersome military monster and turned it into a deadly efficient fighting force within five years. And in the last ten years of his command he’s added three countries and five new provinces to the Polypontian Empire. If we’re not to become the fourth sovereign state to be turned into just another administrative area within his Imperial ambitions, we’d better learn to think and act like him. And that means efficiency, and the ability to recognize when the worst enemy we have is ourselves! Now, as Queen of the Icemark I order you to send for your commanders or I will invoke the power of my office and have you replaced by a Basilea who sees sense — aunt or not!”

  Maggiore Totus watched his former pupil with a delighted satisfaction he was beginning to expect. Thirrin had already surprised him several times since the war had begun, by showing an accelerating ability to cope with situations that were beyond anything she’d experienced before. However, he thought to himself, this was a very delicate situation. She couldn’t afford to alienate any part of society in this time of extreme crisis, and how she resolved this conflict could affect the outcome of the war.

  The Basilea sat in silence for a moment, obviously weighing the content of her niece’s threat. At last she nodded, spoke to a guard, and sent her off to fetch the male commanders.

  Thirrin silently breathed a sigh of relief. Ten minutes of uncomfortable silence then followed until the first of the officers began to arrive. Thirrin greeted them with a smile and, understanding perfectly that they’d never been to such a meeting, personally directed them to their seats. She then explained why they were all there.

  “This is a council of war. We have five months before the spring begins to clear the roads of ice and snow. In that time I intend to train a fighting force the like of which has never been seen in the Icemark before. It must be efficient, disciplined, and well equipped. I’ve already given orders for the armories to increase their output, and the fyrd has been called. In a matter of days the raw recruits will be coming in, and it is the job of the regular army to train them.”

  The most confident of the Hypolitan male officers raised a hand, and Thirrin nodded at him to speak.

  “I presume, then, that the training methods for the fyrd are to be changed in some way, Your Highness.”

  “No,” Thirrin answered. “They’re to be added to. The period and method of basic training will be the same. But then I want each and every fyrd member to be given the same instruction as the housecarl regiments. I want no elite corps in my army; every soldier is to be a member of the elite!”

  For the next hour Thirrin outlined her plans and answered questions on every aspect of her strategy, from instruction to housing and supply. She was horribly aware of the massive task that confronted them and the fact that everyone was relying on her to lead the way. Fortunately she’d already thought long and hard about the issues and had a ready solution for most potential problems.

  At last, when all possibilities had been examined, she sat back and smiled. “There’s one more issue that needs to be discussed. I intend to go on a Royal Progress to meet with the Vampires in The-Land-of-the-Ghosts.”

  She waited quietly for the uproar of objections to die down and then continued, “I intend to go for one simple reason: We need allies.”

  “But we’ve already made alliances with the Wolffolk and with the Holly King and Oak King,” Elemnestra pointed out. “Why risk your life by going to the Blood Palace of the Vampire King and Queen?”

  “I’ve discussed this issue with my advisers, Maggiore Totus and Oskan Witch’s Son, and we all agree that if the Icemark is to survive this attack from the Polypontian Empire, then we must have more allies. In fact, the more the better. We must never forget that we’re trying to defend our little country from the largest, most efficient army the world has ever seen. And you all know that it is commanded by the most successful general in all remembered history. Even with the help of the Vampire King and Queen our survival remains doubtful, but without them we are certainly los
t.”

  “Then send a trusted ambassador in your stead. We can’t risk losing our Queen at this time,” cautioned the Basilea.

  Maggiore Totus coughed apologetically and stood up. “That has been considered, but we decided that as relations with The-Land-of-the-Ghosts are at a particularly … low ebb, it would take a diplomatic mission of the highest standing to repair and reestablish proper links. Especially as we will be asking for military aid at the same time.”

  “Can you guarantee the safety of the Queen?” Elemnestra demanded.

  “Madam, none of us can guarantee that we will be alive to take breakfast tomorrow, let alone the safety of the monarch of a war-torn country. But there are times when risks must be taken for the general good.”

  “Then you must take an escorting army with you.”

  “And make the Vampire King and Queen think we’re trying to invade?” Thirrin said. “No. I will take a small escort of ten cavalry and twenty infantry.”

  “How can we be certain that The-Land-of-the-Ghosts won’t try to invade now that we’re distracted by war in the south?” one of the Hypolitan commanders asked.

  “For two reasons,” Thirrin answered easily. “First, none of the border fortresses has reported anything unusual in the way of troop movements, and second, we’re a buffer zone between the Empire and their own lands. Added to that is the fact that the Polypontians are creatures of science and rationality. The Vampire King and Queen would be objects of complete loathing for them: things to be stamped out and purged from the earth. If the Icemark falls, their lands will be next on Scipio Bellorum’s shopping list, and there’d be no option of citizenship in the greater realm of the Empire for any of their … people. They’d all be wiped out. This fact will be our greatest bargaining point in the coming negotiations.”

  She looked around the table to see if there were any more questions before going on. “I’ll be taking Oskan Witch’s Son with me, but Maggiore Totus will stay here. The journey may get both hard and hazardous, and I want no casualties among my advisers.”

  Another of the male commanders of the Hypolitan raised his hand and she turned to him.

  “How will you let the Vampire King and Queen know of your intentions? Surely you can’t just cross the border and expect a friendly reception?”

  “Our allies the Wolffolk will smooth the way there. I’ve already been in touch with King Grishmak, and he’s agreed to send emissaries to the Blood Palace. By the time I reach the border, Their Vampiric Majesties will know I’m coming,” Thirrin answered, more confidently than she felt.

  “You could, of course, be walking into a trap of your own making,” the Basilea pointed out.

  “I could,” Thirrin agreed. “But as we have already said, there are times when risks must be taken. And as this is the case I’ve decided to take as many precautions as I can.” She stood up and, raising her voice so that all could hear her clearly, she announced: “I now name before you all Basilea Elemnestra, my aunt and loyal vassal, as my heir. In the event of my death or disappearance she will be declared Queen and lead you all in the struggle against the Polypontian Empire. I present to her now the Great Ring of State that will be given back to me on my return from embassy.”

  Thirrin took the ring from her finger and handed it to the Basilea, who took it with a look of bemusement on her face. Maggiore was as surprised as everyone else by this gesture but, smiling secretly to himself, he had to admit it was the perfect way to heal the rift that had been caused by Thirrin’s insistence that the male staff officers should be present at the meeting. Her growth into her role as Queen of the Icemark was now almost complete, thought Maggiore, and perhaps her Royal Embassy to The-Land-of-the-Ghosts would add those indefinable finishing touches that would make her a truly formidable monarch.

  Scipio Bellorum watched his army thoughtfully from his vantage point high on the hill. From here it was possible to follow the tactical patterns precisely as cavalry moved against the disciplined blocks of infantry. He’d ordered live rounds to be used in practice maneuvers and had allowed himself a casualty rate of ten percent. A little wasteful perhaps, but there was nothing like the threat of blood to sharpen a soldier’s concentration, especially when that blood might be his own.

  He was well aware of the setback his first invading army had suffered, and now that the snows had come he knew it would be several months before he could send in any substantial reinforcements. It had all been a calculated risk — the snows had been late and there had been a chance that he could have established a strong bridgehead before the spring. Well, that chance had slipped through his fingers, and now he had to make the best of the situation.

  The only real problem, as he saw it, was how to keep his troops in tip-top battle readiness over the slow winter months. It was all too easy for a fighting unit to lose its edge. But if he kept them busy with war games and allowed the cannons to use live ammunition as well as the muskets, then he’d have created conditions as near to war as it was possible to get without taking the field against an actual enemy. Horribly wasteful of men and ammunition, of course, but the army could sustain it. And it would be easily justified when he led a fresh and battle-ready invasion force into the Icemark next spring.

  He smiled quietly to himself: At least he would be in a state of complete preparedness when the thaw came. No need to wait for regiments to make their way along recently opened roads. They’d all be in position, just waiting for his order to advance.

  A short while later he became aware of a pleasant hunger — there was nothing like maneuvers to stimulate the appetite. A little beef for dinner tonight, he thought, cooked very rare, with one of those fine red wines from the latest of my conquests. The two would complement each other perfectly.

  13

  Thirrin pointedly ignored the long woolen warmers that Oskan had carefully rolled down over the ears of his mule, Jenny Even the fact that they were bright yellow with red pom-poms on the very tips didn’t drag any sort of comment out of her. She was determined not to notice them or the richly colored bridalry the mule was decked in, but she was swiftly coming to the conclusion that there were times when Oskan deliberately tried to annoy her. He still refused to ride a horse that she thought more fitting for one of her most important advisers, and now he’d taken to making a naturally ridiculous-looking animal look even more ludicrous by dressing it in brightly colored knitwear!

  The escort of ten Hypolitan cavalry troopers and twenty housecarls had all grinned like complete idiots when Oskan had first appeared on his mule, and she expected anyone they met on the road to do the same. It was hardly in keeping with royal or ambassadorial dignity.

  “Are you ready?” she asked, looking down on him from the huge height of her war stallion with what she hoped was disdainful dignity, and Oskan smiled brightly and nodded.

  The main road out of the Hypolitan city was lined with the refugees from Frostmarris, who watched them ride by in almost total silence. They knew their young Queen was taking a terrible risk, and that if she failed they were almost certainly doomed to defeat at the hands of the Polypontian Empire. Even the sight of the mule in its ear-warmers did little to lighten their mood. A few raised their hands in farewell, and one or two called blessings and little spells for safe journeys, but otherwise they were as quiet as a frozen lake.

  Thirrin was relieved when they’d finally ridden through the gates and the road lay empty before them. Oskan had said they could expect at least three days of calm weather, by which time they should be close to the border. And certainly the day was bright and clear — the best sort of conditions for traveling in the winter, if it really couldn’t be avoided. The frozen snow reflected the sunlight brilliantly, and the sky was the polished blue of washed enamel. Thirrin sniffed the air appreciatively. Beyond the immediate strong aromas of their horses and the leather of the soldiers’ equipment, the day smelled only of the clean cold scent of snow. She felt suddenly free, and had she been on her own she would have raced through
the tingling air, urging her horse to greater and greater speeds. But she was now Queen of the Icemark, and an overriding sense of her responsibilities stopped her. The realization that responsibility would color her every decision and action from now on suddenly weighed heavily on her, and her mood darkened.

  “I suppose you’re cold,” she said grumpily to Oskan.

  “Of course. It’s winter,” he answered blandly.

  “I might’ve expected you to feel it more than most.”

  He looked at her, assessing this new mood, then he said, “Madam, I’ve lived all my life in a cave and walked naked in all weathers until I was seven. Yes, I’m cold, that’s an obvious fact — everyone who leaves their fireside in an Icemark winter is cold. But I’m not complaining. I’m as cold and as refreshed as someone who’s just plunged into a mountain lake.”

  She grunted moodily in answer, but she had to admit to herself that he certainly looked comfortable enough, dressed as he was in the sort of brightly colored quilted jacket and leggings that were common among the Hypolitan. In fact, Oskan matched Jenny the mule perfectly. She was only surprised he wasn’t wearing ear-warmers under his scarlet cap.

  His mood wasn’t exactly in keeping with circumstances, either. Most people had waved them off with a gloomy air, acknowledging the desperate situation that had driven the new Queen of the land to seek an alliance with their ancient enemy. But Oskan gave the impression he was off on some holiday jaunt.