by Pedro Urvi
Astrid sighed deeply. “It’ll be better if you don’t know.”
“How d’you mean, better?”
“It’s dangerous for you to have that information. I want to protect you.”
“If you tell me, I’ll be able to help you. You’re the one in danger, not me.”
She shook her head. “You can’t help me, and it would put you in serious danger. I can’t do it, for your own good. For our own good.”
“You have to let me choose that myself.”
“That’s exactly what I don’t want you to do. I’m trying to protect you. If I tell you my mission, just by giving you the information I’d be putting you in danger of death. Besides, I’m sure you’d try to stop me, and we could both end up dead.”
“Then it’s something very risky. I hope it isn’t a suicide mission.” He was remembering the one Viggo had carried out at the Zangrian war camp.
“It’s not a suicide mission. I promise. Risky? Yes, they all are, even more so in my specialty.”
“What’s the King ordered you to do?” Lasgol insisted. His voice was troubled.
“It’ll be better if you didn’t know, my love. Really. Everything’ll be fine.”
“I’ve got a very bad feeling right now. I know something’s going to go wrong. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
“You’re not going to lose me. I’m going to carry out my mission. Everything’ll be all right. We’ll be together again very soon.”
Lasgol had a feeling of something ominous, and his stomach was churning. He made one last attempt.
“If you love me, then trust me and tell me.”
“I love you with all my heart. That’s why I can’t tell you. I’m not going to put you in danger.”
Before he could argue any further, Astrid kissed him passionately, turned and went into the forest without a word of goodbye.
Lasgol was left reeling.
I follow? Camu transmitted.
For a moment he was tempted to say yes, but then he thought better of it. No matter how much he might wish to help her, no matter how much he loved her, he had to accept her decision, even though he was utterly opposed to it.
No, Camu, he messaged back, I already know where she’s going. Unfortunately, he suspected what her mission was.
The night passed without any further surprises, and at dawn he told his friends what had happened.
“She’ll carry out her mission,” Ingrid assured hm.
“And she’ll come back unscathed,” Nilsa added.
“It’s her mission,” Ingrid said. “And besides, I can see she did it to protect you. I think what she did was absolutely right.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”
“She should’ve let you help her,” Gerd said.
“Thanks, pal.”
Suddenly their attention turned to the south. In the distance they could see soldiers, a large number of them. They were arriving at the camp, but there was no alarm. Instead they could hear enthusiastic shouts among the soldiers of the East.
Gerd narrowed his eyes. “Who are they?”
“Going by the red-and-white colors and the banners I can make out,” said Ingrid, “I’d say they’re the Blizzard Army.”
“They are,” Lasgol confirmed. He had called upon his Hawk’s Sight skill. “Duke Orten, the King’s brother, is leading them.”
“Better late than never,” said Gerd.
“This is going to tilt the battle in favor of the East,” Nilsa said confidently.
“It looks like it,” Ingrid agreed, although she sounded cautious.
Lasgol wrinkled his nose. This was certainly bad news for the West.
“I’m going to see if they can tell me what’s going on,” Nilsa said, and slipped away.
The others waited. There had been no movement in the surroundings of the city since the battle, and it seemed uninhabited. But every now and then Lasgol would glimpse a shadow moving through the streets and the rubble of the buildings which had been shattered by the catapults. With the exception of the Olafstone castle the city appeared deserted, although it was really nothing of the kind. People moved through it surreptitiously: probably enemy agents carrying messages, or else spying on Thoran’s armies. They must already know that Orten and his troops had just arrived.
Nilsa came back at dusk with fresh news from the war camp. “The King and his brother have been screaming at each other since the moment they first laid eyes on each other,” she told them, and her expression made it clear that it must have been a spectacular argument. “Thoran was blaming Orten for his delay, and the Duke was pointing out that it had been unacceptable for them to attack without waiting for him.”
Gerd shook his head. “It must have been quite a slanging-match.”
“Considering what a couple of brutes they’re both known to be,” Ingrid commented, “it must have been colossal.”
“I was told the Royal Rangers were almost deafened by their shouting.”
“Pity we weren’t able to hear it,” said Ingrid.
“I managed to,” Lasgol said. “Owl Hearing,” he explained with a shrug. “It was a monumental quarrel.”
“Do they hate each other, or something?” Gerd asked.
“It looks like it,” Ingrid said.
“No, not at all,” Nilsa corrected her. “They’re really inseparable. Going by what people say, they really support each other completely. After the arguments, they make peace with lots of beer and go back to being inseparable.”
“So they must be at it now,” said Gerd. “They’re going to need plenty of barrels of beer, by the looks of things.”
“They’re sure to be celebrating their victory already,” Ingrid said. “With Orten’s reinforcements and the catapults, the Olafstone castle will soon fall. They won’t be able to hide inside for long.”
Gerd was staring at the distant city. “I’d go along with that.”
“D’you think Arnold will surrender, or fight to the last man?” Nilsa asked uneasily.
“Let’s hope he surrenders,” Gerd said hopefully. “If he resists, they’ll be picked off one by one. There’s no sense prolonging the agony and suffering of his people. I hope he listens to reason and common sense and the goodness of his heart prevails.”
“You’re asking a lot,” Ingrid said. She looked as though she was not at all sure that this would happen. “Nobles and kings don’t have much common-sense in situations like this, and either very little goodness of heart, or none at all. Otherwise they wouldn’t be nobles or kings.”
“There must be some good ones,” Gerd objected.
“I don’t know about that,” Nilsa said. “From what I’ve seen at the court, there are none whatsoever. And the Royal Guard and Rangers think the same. I know, because several of them have told me so. ‘Get out of their way if you don’t want to end up crushed underfoot’ is the advice I’ve been given most often at the palace.”
“Uffff… well, that’s wonderful,” Gerd muttered.
“On the other hand,” Ingrid said, “you don’t have to be such an extremist. There are some decent noblemen. As for kings, I have my doubts. I hope Arnold’s one of them. The problem is that the situation he’s in is a very delicate one. If he surrenders, he’ll be at the mercy of those two brutes. I’m not sure if they’d keep their word, even if they were to promise him he wouldn’t hang. And if he doesn’t surrender, he’ll condemn everyone with him at the castle, and there are a lot of them.”
Gerd was shaking his head slowly. “What a really difficult situation. I hope he’s able to surrender, and they spare him and his nobles.”
“The nobles, maybe,” said Ingrid, “because they need them to manage the western lands. The counties and duchies they rule need leaders who can direct them. Killing them all would be a bad business, particularly because the hatred it would create in those duchies and counties would last for generations.”
Nilsa nodded. “Their families, and the families of the people who li
ve in those lands, won’t either forgive or forget.”
“That’s right,” Ingrid said. “Although it wouldn’t be the first or last time in Norghana that all the enemies were put to the axe.”
“We’re a barbaric people,” Gerd said. He sounded disgusted.
“Yeah, pretty much so,” Nilsa agreed with a shrug.
Lasgol had been silent until then. “I wouldn’t sell the bear-skin yet…” he murmured.
Ingrid looked at him in surprise. “You don’t think Arnold still has a chance, do you?”
Lasgol pointed to the north, beyond the city, and they all turned to look. A contingent of several thousand soldiers was approaching the city. They were dressed in black and yellow, which were not Norghanian colors. They wore silver armor and helmets and carried steel spears and square shields, also of steel, striped in yellow and black.
“Who are they?” Gerd asked.
“They’re short, hairy and very ugly,” Lasgol said.
“Zangrians!” Gerd exclaimed.
Chapter 43
Night fell over the city of Estocos and Thoran’s war camp. The activity in both places was frantic. Thoran, his brother Orten, and the generals were arguing about the presence of the Zangrian troops outside the city, to the north. Meanwhile their officers were getting the armies ready to attack the new enemy. In the city, several retinues had gone from the Olafstone castle to the newly-arrived army. Everything suggested that there would be an alliance between the Western forces and the Zangrians. Thoran and his armies would now have to fight both of them.
“You were saying about surrendering…?” Lasgol said to his friends. They had changed positions and were now a little further to the north and east of an oak wood not far from the city. With the arrival of the Zangrian forces, they had received orders to move the surveillance positions forward.
“It looks as if the West has got the advantage back,” Gerd said
“I was sure the East would come out on top,” Nilsa said. She sounded utterly incredulous.
“There’s nothing definitive in this war. Thoran has the Invincibles and the Ice Magi. And no matter how tough and well-prepared those little Zangrians might be, I wouldn’t bet my pay on them.”
“There are quite a few of them,” Gerd said. “More than the troops Orten has brought with him.”
Nilsa nodded. “Yeah, I’d agree that the West has regained the advantage.”
“This has got to be Egil’s doing,” Ingrid said, arms akimbo. She was watching the Zangrian army.
“Almost certainly,” said Lasgol. He smiled in acknowledgement of his friend’s brilliant work. He was incredibly talented, particularly seeing that he was orchestrating everything from the Camp, many leagues away from there.
“I have to admit that Egil is really exceptional,” Ingrid said. She sounded deeply impressed. “He has an amazing mind. What a range of traps and strategies and special effects.”
“He certainly has,” Nilsa agreed. “The moment we turn our backs, he creates another master-stroke. Thoran must be beside himself with frustration.”
“That’s why Orten took so long,” Lasgol said. “Probably the Zangrians kept him busy in the south.”
Ingrid nodded. “That makes sense. They’ve been keeping him back on purpose so that he wouldn’t get to the battle in time.”
“Or at least not before those Zangrian forces,” Nilsa pointed out. “They’ve had to make a very long detour to reach Estocos from the north.”
“They must be General Ganzor’s troops,” Lasgol mused, “the one Orten ordered to be killed. I knew that gamble would have repercussions.”
“And we know who killed him.”
“Talking about me again?” came a voice. When they turned, they realized that Viggo was watching them nonchalantly from behind a tree.
“Viggo!” Nilsa cried in surprise and delight.
“How did you get here without us realizing?” Ingrid demanded.
“Easy.”
“What d’you mean, easy?”
He smiled broadly and spread his arms wide. “Because I’m good.”
Didn’t you detect him? Lasgol messaged Ona and Camu.
No. Viggo silence.
Ona whined in apology.
Lasgol was surprised. If Camu and Ona had not detected Viggo coming close to them, it meant that their friend was becoming genuinely skillful.
“I’m glad to see you,” Gerd said, and gave him a hug.
Nilsa joined in, smiling. “Me too.” Lasgol too joined them.
Viggo turned to Ingrid. “Come on, Blondie, give me a hug.”
She folded her arms aggressively. “In your dreams.”
“Everyone will think you’re not happy to see me.”
“Of course I’m not. You’re always in some kind of trouble.”
“Ingrid, don’t be so mean,” Nilsa said. She urged her with a nod towards Viggo.
“This time you’re not mistaken,” Viggo replied, and made a face at her.
“See what I mean?”
“What trouble?” Gerd asked, looking worried.
“Well… it’d be better if I discussed this problem with Lasgol alone.”
Ingrid, Nilsa and Gerd exchanged puzzled looks.
“Oh, okay,” said Lasgol.
“Why only with him?” Ingrid asked with a frown.
Viggo looked into her eyes. “Isn’t it enough that it’s me who’s asking?”
“Of course it’s not,” she said angrily. “I want an explanation, particularly if you’re involved in whatever it happens to be!”
Viggo sighed and put on an expression of delight. “How beautiful she is when she’s angry with me…”
She threatened him with her fist. “I’m going to give you a black eye!”
“All right, then,” he agreed resignedly, knowing he was not going to make her change her mind. “It’s a tricky subject, and the weirdo and I need to talk about it.”
Nilsa narrowed her eyes. “That means helping the West. Right?”
Viggo gave in. “Correct.”
“Why do you get yourself into this?” Ingrid asked him accusingly. “You don’t care who wins, whether it’s East, West, North or South.”
“Very true. Let’s say I have personal reasons which oblige me to get involved.”
“That makes even less sense to me.”
Viggo shrugged. “Believe what you like, but it’s the truth.”
There was a silence. Ingrid and Viggo glared at each other, neither being the first to look away.
“I want to know what you’re up to. I don’t trust you. I’m sure it’s a terrible idea.”
He smiled. “I can’t tell you. You’ll have to trust my judgment.”
“You don’t have a single scrap of judgment. Your head’s full of sawdust.”
“It’s a good thing my heart’s full of roses for you.”
Nilsa giggled, and Gerd seemed to be holding back a guffaw.
“I’m going to give you two black eyes!” Ingrid threatened. She advanced toward him with her fists raised. With incredible agility, he sidestepped as though he were sliding across the grass to safety.
Lasgol went to stand between the two of them and put his hands on their chests. “Please don’t fight,” he begged them.
“Whatever it is,” Ingrid insisted, “don’t give in to him. I don’t like this at all.”
“Let me hear what he has to say first.”
“It’s a mistake to listen to this blockhead,” Ingrid said. But she gave in with a gesture.
Lasgol moved closer to Viggo. “What’s the matter?”
Viggo whispered something in his ear, and Lasgol turned back to Ingrid immediately. “I’m going with him.”
“Hell! I knew it, he’s already persuaded you to do something stupid!”
“What are you going to do?” Gerd asked Viggo, sounding worried.
“It’s a secret, big guy.”
“Are you going to help the West?” Nilsa asked.
Viggo scratched his chin. “It’s possible.”
“Surely you’re not going to Estocos?” Gerd asked.
Lasgol and Viggo exchanged a glance, then nodded.
“I knew it! It’s crazy!”
“It’s important, Ingrid,” Lasgol said.
“It’s utter stupidity!”
“Arnold doesn’t need you,” Nilsa pointed out. “He already has the Zangrians, and they have the advantage.”
“Besides, they’ll kill you if they catch you,” Gerd warned them. “You’re Rangers, they’ll take you for spies.”
“I didn’t say it would be easy,” Viggo said casually. “But I’m sure it’s going to be fun.”
“You get crazier every day. Lasgol, this is utter lunacy. Don’t go with him, whatever he may have said to convince you. Don’t let him drag you into it.”
“Sorry, Ingrid, but I must.”
“It’s treason if you help the West.”
“We knew this moment would come. I have to help them. It’s my decision.”
Ingrid cursed the heavens.
“It’s a terrible idea,” Nilsa said.
“Can I come with you?” Gerd asked unsurely.
Viggo shook his head. “No, big guy. The fewer of us there are, the better.”
“You stay with the East,” Lasgol said. “Viggo and I will help the West. That way the Panthers will have done their best for Norghana.”
“If anyone catches you on either side,” Ingrid warned them, “you’ll both hang.”
“We know,” Lasgol said.
“And even so, you want to go?”
“I’ve got to.”
“All right then,” Ingrid said resignedly. “But we’re going to help you. We’re Snow Panthers and we stay together, even if the kingdom doesn’t.”
Lasgol looked at Viggo, who nodded.
“Let’s get ready,” said Ingrid.
A little while later the five friends, accompanied by Camu, approached the city from the west. Lasgol had had to leave Ona in the forest. This mission was not for her, and he did not want anything to happen to her. At two hundred paces they flattened themselves on the ground. The final stretch of a hundred paces was full of dead mercenaries and Western soldiers.
“Nilsa, nock your bow and keep watch,” Ingrid said.