The Northern Approach

by Jim Galford

  “Watch him. He’s up to something. If he tries anything, cut him down.”

  Raeln steadied himself as he heard the boots take a few more steps and stop, somewhere near Estin’s crate. The wood of the crate creaked loudly and Raeln heard the telltale gasp of surprise, followed by Feanne’s deep growl. A hiss of a sword being drawn confirmed his worries. Atop him, Dalania let out a sigh and pushed herself against the side of the crate to give Raeln room to move.

  Throwing open the crate, Raeln leapt out and found he had vastly underestimated their risks. A single heavily armored undead soldier stood over Estin’s crate with the lid held open, his rotted face turning to look at Raeln. The corpse already held a sword, ready to strike. Beyond the first soldier, Raeln could see two living men on either side of Yoska at the entrance to the wagon. They appeared far more surprised than the undead, though that may have been a trick of their faces, in having all of their skin yet.

  Outside, easily a dozen corpses stood at the ready, armored and holding unsheathed swords at their sides. Every single one of them looked up at Raeln, waiting for the order to charge at him.

  “Well, well,” the lead undead said, motioning to its living companions to hold their position. “Three wildlings sneaking into our lands, rather than fleeing. That is quite a change. Can you speak, beast? I want answers before I execute all of you.”

  Raeln looked around nervously, trying to decide what to do. He could see Feanne’s head poked up from the crate nearest the undead, watching him for a cue. Beside him, still concealed in the crate, Dalania was shifting so she could more easily stand and assist in some manner when the time was right. The only one he could not be sure was ready to act was On’esquin, still hiding in his closed crate.

  Evaluating his companions, Raeln knew what was about to happen. He could see it in their eyes. Feanne would attack whether he wanted her to or not. Estin would follow her lead to protect her. Dalania was more likely to flee, but probably would not until after the others had fallen, making it more probable that the undead would catch and kill her before she could escape. Yoska would try to wait for the right moment to strike, but he would not run without the rest of them.

  Leading this group had suddenly become troublesome for Raeln, knowing that “leading” meant about as much as trying to herd cats. They all would do things their own way while thinking they were doing what he wanted. He really wanted to rethink the whole idea of following On’esquin.

  “You’re going to execute us no matter what I say,” Raeln said, eyeing his sword in the corner near the undead commander. “Why should I talk?”

  The undead grinned, revealing multiple missing teeth, and then raised its free hand. As it did, the force outside tensed, ready to attack. “Choose carefully, wildling. My orders are to kill you for attempting to avoid our patrols. Whether we do so quickly or slowly is going to be determined by your next action. Our lord-master has little love for your kind, but I do not have any reason to butcher you just yet.”

  Raeln prepared himself to fight as hard as he could. He would not sentence these people to death, but given that surrender made little or no difference, he had every intention of sacrificing himself to see them escape. With luck he could hold off the undead long enough for the others to get to the horses and flee.

  Going from passively standing, as though weighing his options, to a full attack faster than the undead could react, Raeln rushed the dead man. Dropping and sliding across the floor as the undead tried to swing at him, he came back up and kicked the soldier backward through one of the men holding Yoska and onto the ground outside.

  By the time the two hit the ground, Yoska had drawn his weapons, skewered the man beside him in the throat, and turned him to use as a shield against the others attempting to come through the door.

  The rest of the group reacted immediately as well, with Feanne and Estin hopping out of the crate nearest the door, while Dalania moved from hers to the front of the wagon, where she could not be easily hit by a stray arrow and where she would be out of everyone else’s way.

  On’esquin was a little slower than the rest, grunting and struggling to free himself from his crate. After a moment, he smashed the entire wooden frame open, sending wood flying as he sat up, using his spear to help him stand. “Armor was stuck,” offered On’esquin, grinning toothily.

  At the door, still holding the dead soldier in front of himself, Yoska announced, “More trouble outside. I wish to stand somewhere else now.”

  Raeln and On’esquin pushed their way to the door, displacing the others to look past Yoska.

  The undead soldiers had formed up, raising battered shields and swords in a protective stance in an arc around the wagon’s only real exit. Any attempt to leave would have put that person well within reach of no less than four swords, with a second row of undead waiting behind the first. Escape was not much of an option.

  What had prompted Yoska’s comment was an undead Raeln had not seen initially. Dressed in more simple clothing than the undead officer, this woman was paging through a book as she stood back from the rest of the undead.

  “Wizard?” Raeln asked On’esquin, who nodded.

  “If I were her, I would be looking up a sufficiently powerful spell to incinerate the whole wagon with us inside. Far simpler and much less risky than attacking head-on,” the orc explained.

  Raeln felt his heart skip a beat as the woman closed her book, and he turned to ask, “Estin, can you do anything about her?”

  “Not until I’m a lot stronger,” Estin confessed, nervously backing away from the door. “I might be able to slow her, but that’s pushing it. I’ll probably blackout first.”

  “Move!” On’esquin roared, shoving Raeln, Yoska, and the dead man aside to take their place in the doorway.

  The crackle of flames was deafening as Raeln threw himself to the floor instinctively. The fire continued for several seconds, but no heat came with the sound.

  Looking back toward the door as he stood up, Raeln saw the woman outside had a foot-wide line of flame running from her hands to a point several inches before On’esquin’s outstretched hand. There the flames stopped and the air wavered from the heat. On’esquin seemed entirely calm, not even concentrating on magic the way a wizard would. The man had none of the indicators Raeln had been taught to watch for in any user of magic.

  “Push harder, wizard!” the orc shouted, laughing as he lowered his hood to let those outside see his face. “You may be under Turessian control, but you are not one of us. Prove yourself to your masters, if you are able! My child could do better before he was old enough to earn his honor markings.”

  Raeln watched as the commander of the undead began backing away, while the wizardess strained even harder, pouring more of her strength into the flames, changing them from yellow and red to a vivid blue. Still the flames came no closer to On’esquin, and when she shifted to aim the column at the walls of the wagon, the flames still died once they got near enough to the orc. Finally she fell to a knee and let the spell end, pieces of her decaying body flaking away from being exposed to so much heat for so long. Raeln had never even considered an undead wizard might tire the same way Estin or another spellcaster might.

  “Shall we see what an educated person can do?” On’esquin taunted, holding up his hand. A ball of blue flame formed from the air, spinning in his palm while the undead soldiers slowly raised their shields. “A shame you can’t warn your master.” With a flick of his wrist, On’esquin released the ball of flame at the undead outside, where it burst and filled the entire area with fire and heat. Even behind On’esquin, Raeln could feel the flames suck the moisture from his eyes and nose, making it difficult to breathe.

  Several seconds later, the flames diminished until the only remaining fire was on the smoldering corpses of the undead, all of which had been reduced nearly to ash. Somehow the wagon itself was intact, though Raeln could see the wood nearest the door had darkened from the temperatures.

  “The wizards
always fall for that,” On’esquin told the group, turning around to face them again. “Dorralt hates to admit that he helped create what I am, so he rarely tells anyone how to properly fight me. Wizards see an orc in armor and think to burn him down before he can attack them with weapons. It was that way two thousand years ago and it seems little has changed. Even when I use their magic against them, they keep trying.”

  Getting up from the floor of the wagon quickly, Estin took a step toward On’esquin, forcing Raeln to hop up and get between the men, in case things were about to come to blows again. “When we fought the first time,” Estin said, though he did not sound angry, giving Raeln no idea what to expect. “You used magic against me. That was my son’s magic, wasn’t it?”

  On’esquin laughed deeply, nodding. “Ah, the wildling understands. I am not just immune to magic…I soak it up. Something in what Dorralt did to me took away my ability to use magic the way you do, but I can change any magic thrown at me and manipulate it. Your son used a tremendous amount of energy and he gave me more than enough to fight you. That was how I stopped the undead at Pholithia.”

  Estin stared at On’esquin for a long time, then slowly began to smile and then laugh. He shook his head as he sat down on the nearby crate. “Now I understand how you stopped the first war with the Turessians. Dozens of undead wizards all trying to burn you to a crisp,” Estin said. “This makes a lot more sense. We might have a chance against them, after all, if you can do that again.”

  Before On’esquin could reply, Feanne—who had been watching Estin peculiarly—asked, “You have children? I hadn’t realized there were more of…whatever you are. How did you find another of your breed to mate with? It was my assumption you were the only one of your kind.”

  Estin’s humor faded instantly and his jaw clenched angrily.

  “Feanne,” Raeln interjected, trying to distract her from causing any more damage, “I need your help cleaning up the bodies outside before anyone comes looking for them.” Raeln saw her hesitate and he grabbed Feanne’s elbow and dragged her with him out of the wagon and out onto the road, where the last of the bodies had stopped burning. All of the corpses still steamed ominously, though none appeared able to stand back up, as undead had a bad habit of doing.

  “Drag them to the brush off the road,” Raeln told her and began doing the same. The first charred body he grabbed fell apart in his hands, making his stomach lurch. “And give Estin some time to forget what you just said.”

  Feanne stopped with half of an undead in her arms, giving him a queer look. “Was that mean in some way? I don’t know what he is, so I was surprised there are more like him. It wasn’t meant to be an attack on his children.”

  “He might have taken it that way, though,” Raeln told her.

  “I understand,” she admitted, looking somewhat crestfallen. “I’ll apologize once he’s less upset.”

  Looking back at the wagon, Raeln saw Estin was sitting on one of the crates, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Kneeling in front of him, Yoska was clearly trying to help, though Raeln could not imagine what could ease that kind of hurt. He could not fathom the pain Estin was dealing with, compounded by having to hide the fact that the children were Feanne’s. Worse still, Raeln vaguely remembered something Estin had hinted at during their first meeting—that some of the children might not even be his. He had lost everything and could not even talk about his pain openly.

  Throughout the task of collecting the bodies and stashing them in the high wet grass that lined ditches near the road, Feanne never gave any indication of any more emotion than disappointment with what she had said. She simply showed nothing on her face, calmly going about the task like she was as dead as the corpses they were dragging.

  *

  “The three sister cities should be past the next section of mountains,” On’esquin declared a day later, pointing toward a section of tall hills that blocked most of their view to the north. “Two hundred thousand people lived there during my time. Dorralt’s forces would likely go around and come back once their hold on the region is more secure. We may be able to find some shelter here, if we have finished using up all of our bad luck.”

  Before Raeln could ask about the cities from his perch atop the wagon, Yoska clicked his tongue and shook his head. That reaction had become a little too frequent for Raeln’s taste and usually meant bad news.

  “Is not three sisters,” chided Yoska. “Is more like old woman and two infants. These cities have grown almost into one large city, though they keep walls between them. Northern district is wealthy and has all good shopping places…this place holds most of the many people. The other two cities are…how you say…dirt-poor and dangerous. Though normally I say we go for posh place to lighten some purses, I think given our welcome recently that we stay in less-nice places where they do not look for us. Is better idea, yes?”

  “Yes, indeed,” On’esquin agreed. “Raeln, do you have any objections?”

  “I’d sleep in a gutter if it meant that we didn’t have to worry about being executed for a day or two,” he confessed, watching the hills for a break through which he could see the cities.

  Having snuck up onto the top of the wagon near Raeln, Estin added, “Gutters are comfortable in good weather. I recommend somewhere else during the winter months.”

  Rolling off of his belly and sitting up, Raeln greeted Estin as the man came over to sit beside him, watching the hills in the distance. “Are you feeling any better today?” he asked eventually, trying to spark some small degree of conversation.

  Things had been tense between himself and Estin since he had begun training Feanne to fight, but matters had only gotten worse in the week since they had been attacked by the undead. Two nights prior, Raeln had woken to find Feanne trying to slip under his blanket with him and yelped in surprise when she had groped him. Estin had woken up but said nothing, even after Raeln had physically picked up Feanne and carried her at arm’s length back to her own blankets. It had taken nearly an hour for Raeln to get back to sleep, wondering whether he would find a knife in his chest or Feanne in his bed first.

  Estin seemed to think a little while. “Better. Magic is getting a little easier, but I’m too weak to do much more than street magician tricks.”

  “How is she?”

  His whiskers trembling angrily for a brief moment, Estin answered, “She’s starting to understand that you don’t want her, but she can’t figure out why. I think the next step is that she’s going to get angry and confront you and point out that you have three choices: Dalania, her, or a cold bed. She thinks you’re an idiot for turning her down.”

  “If I were interested in her, I would tend to agree. She’s a lovely, strong, and strong-willed woman, Estin. Most men would be proud to have her as a wife. I hope that she remembers that she loves you sooner rather than later. I doubt there are many men out there that have a wife that can watch their back and kill whatever is stalking them.”

  That seemed to lighten Estin’s mood and he smiled warmly, nodding. “I’ve been around enough wildlings that I have to ask,” Estin said, looking pointedly away from Raeln. “Most wouldn’t hesitate to bed her the moment I was out of sight, unless they were afraid of me, which is rarely the case when dealing with predator wildlings. For a while I thought that you might be like them, which was why I wouldn’t let you two go far alone. If I hadn’t saved you near Lantonne, would you be so willing to turn her down?”

  “Estin…”

  “Let’s be honest here, Raeln. She’s willing to accept me as an ally, but she isn’t my wife anymore. I lost that when she died. We mated for life and I think maybe we moved past that. If you and she were alone or I were dead—”

  “Please stop this, Estin,” Raeln snapped, grabbing Estin’s arm to draw his attention. “She’s your wife. Even if you were dead, I would not do anything. I have promised you this more than once. You need to trust me.”

  “Why?” he asked Raeln. “I’m not angry, Raeln. I just
want to know why you’re trying so hard to protect me, when there’s no reason to anymore.”

  “Can’t you just accept that she isn’t my type?”

  Estin stared at Raeln until he felt uncomfortable.

  “Right now, you’re the only ones with anything close to a real life left,” Raeln finally added. “The rest of us are doing this, knowing we’ll probably die but having nowhere else to go. We don’t have a family waiting for us and there’s no hope of seeing our loved ones again. I’ll protect what you should have, if only because it’s what we lost. I want to see you go home to your family…it’s the closest thing to normal life I can imagine anymore.”

  Estin smiled and thanked him, squeezing his hand tightly. “You’re a good friend, Raeln, even if I don’t deserve it. You have no idea how much I appreciate it all. I know it can’t be easy saying ‘no’ this often. Know that every time you do, you have my gratitude.”

  From down below Yoska said just barley loud enough for them to hear, “Is easier for him than you think, no?”

  Raeln’s skin prickled and he wanted to run and hide, but Estin held his hand tightly, studying his face for answers.

  “What’s he talking about?” Estin asked.

  “Nothing,” Raeln answered quickly, wanting to go punch the gypsy. There were some things he simply had no desire to talk about.

  “The ladies, they do not figure these things out because they do not wish to know,” Yoska prattled on. “Some of us are not so ignorant. I spend many years fixing cousins up with wives and husbands. Is easy to watch who they look at and know what works best for them. In wildling camp you watch for which tails they stare at and you can better find partner for them. This one, he does very little looking, but when he does—”

  “Shut your mouth right now, Yoska. I’ll come down and break your neck if you don’t,” Raeln warned and saw Yoska jump a little in surprise.

  Raeln yanked his hand away from Estin and hurried toward the back of the wagon, intending to go hide under his blankets until the cities were in sight. Before he made it to the edge, Estin spoke up again.