Tartok the Ice Beast

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Tartok the Ice Beast Page 2

by Adam Blade


  It was driven by a man wrapped warmly in animal skins and a fur hat. He steered the horse with a long set of reins. “Whoa,” he called out. The horse obediently came to a halt, his hooves skidding slightly on the ice. As the man rose up from the sleigh, the horse whinnied to Storm.

  “Greetings,” the man said. “I am Brendan, the Chief of my clan.”

  Tom held out his hand. “I’m Tom and this is Elenna.”

  “Our friends here are Silver and Storm,” Elenna added. “Silver is a tame wolf. He won’t harm you.”

  Brendan’s dark eyes flicked between them. “It is unusual to find anyone traveling the northern plains. It’s very dangerous out here.”

  Tom hesitated to explain himself. The king had made him swear to keep his Quest secret. But he didn’t like lying. Instead, he said nothing.

  Brendan looked him over once more, but asked no questions. It was a custom of the northern people to respect a person’s silence.

  “Are you in need of shelter?” Brendan asked.

  Both Tom and Elenna nodded.

  “We have traveled a long way and we are very tired,” Tom said.

  Brendan nodded. “You can stay with us until you are rested enough to continue your journey — whatever that may be.”

  With Tom riding Storm, Elenna riding with Brendan, and Silver keeping pace beside them, the group began to make their way toward the camp. After a short distance, Brendan halted his sleigh and got out. He crouched down beside a small patch of green, fleshy leaves.

  “This will help you.” He paused, carefully pulling up the plant. Tom climbed down from Storm’s saddle to get a closer look. Its roots were white and straggly. “This is a kind of seaweed able to grow in ice. It helps to reduce fever in those who are sick, and restores warmth to those who’ve stayed too long on the open ice. We have built a camp on the coast so we can harvest it. We keep what we need and trade the rest for supplies. That is how we live.”

  “Seaweed? So we’ve been walking over a frozen bay,” Tom realized.

  “Yes. And you are lucky to have made it here safely.” Brendan tucked the plant into a pouch tied around his waist. “My son was attacked by a wild animal. It seems there is something loose on these plains. It’s not safe for anyone out here,” said Brendan. “These are harsh lands. And harsh times, too.” He glanced over at the orange sun. “Nature is restless.”

  Tom and Elenna exchanged looks. It’s not just nature that is restless, thought Tom. With Malvel’s evil spell, Tartok was now a threat to the very people she was meant to protect.

  Tom forced a smile and patted his horse’s side for comfort, before climbing onto his back to continue their trek.

  Overhead, the sky was darkening.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  TERROR BY NIGHT

  AS TOM GUIDED STORM THROUGH THE CAMP, he saw people wrapped in furs and skins going about their business: sorting herbs, rinsing them, and drying them over fires.

  Once they were settled, Elenna changed into borrowed clothes made from tough leather.

  “I can’t remember the last time I felt this warm and dry!” she said, pressing a bundle of clothes into his arms. “Here are some for you, too. Oh, Tom, everyone here seems so kind. Brendan is even making room for Storm in the stables.”

  “When I said I’d make you comfortable, I meant all of you!” came Brendan’s voice.

  “We’re really grateful,” Tom said, as Brendan turned the corner, approaching them with a young boy of about eight or nine.

  “This is my son, Albin,” Brendan said, “the one who was attacked on the ice.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Albin,” Elenna said to the boy. “We’re glad that you’re okay.”

  “Yes,” Tom said. “Did it get you pretty bad?”

  Albin lifted his woolen tunic to reveal three deep gashes in his side.

  “He was lucky,” Brendan said. “These lands aren’t safe any longer.” He looked at Tom and Elenna, and his face softened. “You are welcome to camp with us as long as you like. But if you stay, we ask that you do your share around the camp.”

  “You can help me peel the vegetables,” said Albin brightly. “Then the stew will be ready sooner!”

  “Sounds good to me.” Tom smiled. “I’ll get Storm settled for the night, then I’ll join you.”

  Tom crossed to the stables and quickly changed into his dry clothes. Then he picked up an armful of sweet-smelling hay and placed it in Storm’s stall.

  “See you in the morning,” he said. Storm whinnied softly and watched as Tom left the stall to find Elenna. She and Albin were in the cooking tent, scraping the skins from a pile of vegetables with sharp stones. A rich, salty smell was rising from a bubbling cauldron tended by an old woman and a gaggle of small children.

  “Shame that monster didn’t leave one of its claws behind,” Albin was saying. “Would have peeled these much faster.”

  “You’re very brave. It must have been scary,” Tom said casually, joining in the work.

  “A little bit,” the boy said, trying his best to appear brave and calm. “It was huge. Its eyes were redder than blood.”

  “It sounds terrifying,” said Elenna.

  “And it made a horrible noise — a roar louder than the wind.” Albin shuddered at the memory.

  “Where did you see it?” asked Tom.

  “In the snow dunes out toward the Rolaz Crossing,” the boy answered.

  “Could you show us sometime?” Tom prodded.

  Albin looked right at him, and now Tom could see the fear in the boy’s eyes. “I got away once. I’m not going back there again.”

  Night had fallen and the temperature with it. The clan gathered around the campfire to eat their meal. Tom was grateful for the warmth of the flames and the hot stew in his belly. But the mood around the fire was dark. Everyone seemed jittery.

  Elenna had shared her food with Silver, and now he lay beside her, asleep. Tom wished he could find rest so easily. Albin’s description of the giant monster had done nothing to ease his worries about meeting this Beast … but he knew that it was his destiny to face up to his fears. He would never give up.

  Just then, an unearthly howl sounded close by.

  Silver awoke instantly, hackles rising and teeth bared. People scrambled to their feet in a panic. Tom drew his sword, his heart pounding.

  “Snow leopard!” someone cried.

  “It’s somewhere close by!” yelled another.

  “Nobody move,” Brendan bellowed. The people froze, and even Silver stopped howling. “A leopard won’t attack if we stay together. But if we separate, it will go for whoever seems an easy target.”

  The howl came again, even closer this time.

  “That’s not the howl of a snow leopard,” whispered Albin. “That’s the monster that attacked me!”

  “Ssshh …” Brendan urged.

  And then everything went silent. Eerily silent.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE EXPEDITION

  TOM SAT DEATHLY STILL, LISTENING TO THE flickering of the fire and the creaking of the tent poles in the wind. The night was quiet — too quiet. As the seconds ticked by, Tom wondered what Tartok could be planning.

  Fingering the handle of his sword, Tom exchanged looks with Brendan and Elenna. If the Beast attacked, it would be up to them to defend the camp.

  Then there was a loud, sharp crack. Tom bolted upright, his sword drawn. The ground began to shake violently. Tom was thrown to the ground as a thunderous crash rang out — the ice over the bay was splitting apart!

  The howl came again, this time much closer.

  Tom scrambled to his feet and saw the icy mountain shaking violently, its top beginning to splinter.

  “Take shelter!” he yelled.

  “Quick, over here!” Elenna called out from the entrance to Brendan’s tent. Tom dove under the heavy canvas tarp with the others as shards of ice fell from the sky. They were surrounded by terrible sounds — shattering, smashing, snapping — and the ro
ar of cracking ice. And above it all was the bloodcurdling howl of the monster.

  Then, as suddenly as it began, everything stopped, and there was silence over the ice once again.

  But nobody dared move, or sleep. As the night wore on, everyone clustered close around the dying fire. As the sky began to lighten with the rising sun, the flames flickered out. They had made it through the night.

  Slowly, people began to emerge from their shelters, groggy from the sleepless night. All around, tents had been ripped apart by huge blocks of jagged ice. It was amazing that no one had been killed! And right through the center of camp ran a wide, deep crack.

  Surveying the damage, the nomads seemed angry and scared. They murmured about being cursed. But Brendan’s face was determined, and he called everyone to gather around.

  “We must seek help,” he announced. “I know of a clan living on better ground over the border in Rolaz. It is led by a woman named Jennal. I shall go to her camp and ask if she’ll let us band together with her people.”

  An old man nodded. “There will be safety in numbers. It is a good plan.”

  “I will go today,” Brendan went on. “It is a day’s ride by sleigh, so I shall not be back until tomorrow. I would like you to come with me, Tom.”

  “I’ll come with you, too,” said Albin.

  “No,” said Brendan firmly.

  “But Father, if anything happens to you we will all be lost!”

  Brendan placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I think you have used up your luck, Albin. You must stay here, and that is final.”

  As Albin skulked away miserably, Tom looked at Brendan. “I’ll go with you,” Tom agreed.

  “Gather what you will need for the journey,” Brendan said. “We’ll meet in an hour by the stables.”

  As Brendan left the tent, Tom smiled at Elenna.

  “This is my chance to free Tartok,” he whispered.

  Brendan was happy that Tom had agreed to join him.

  “I want to take gifts for Jennal’s clan on a separate sleigh,” he told Tom. “But I would prefer all the adults to stay here to help defend the camp. Have you ever driven a sleigh?”

  “No,” Tom admitted. “But Storm and I make a good team. We’ll soon learn.”

  Brendan smiled. “I’m sure you will.”

  Tom was led to a sleigh made of bark and skins, which ran on hefty wooden runners. He sat on the driver’s seat, a pile of blankets, food, and other gifts for Jennal’s clan bundled up behind him. Storm needed special ridged horseshoes to help him grip the ice, and held himself patiently while the clan’s blacksmith nailed them to his hooves. Tom was given lessons on how to steer a sleigh, pulling on the reins with short, measured movements.

  “We should leave,” Brendan announced. “But first, I must tell you about the ice. It’s important that we travel spaced apart. The ice is thin in places, and too much weight will cause it to crack. Sometimes it’s just dry land underneath, but other times, it’s water.” Tom nodded.

  Brendan barked a command and his horse plunged forward, jerking the sleigh into motion. “Go, Storm!” shouted Tom. The stallion neighed, and a moment later, Tom’s own sleigh was moving across the ice. Elenna jumped in the air, waving good-bye, and Silver barked and yapped. They were off! Tom slapped his reins against the front of the sleigh and gave a whoop of exhilaration. This is what Tom had been waiting for — to get closer to the snow monster.

  Storm picked up speed, responding swiftly to Tom’s commands. The sun turned the ice field blindingly bright, and the cold bite of the wind chilled Tom’s cheeks. As the sleigh bumped and scraped over the ice and snow, faster and faster, Tom felt adrenaline surge through him.

  They passed soft white bumps of snowdrifts and jagged icy gullies. There were dozens of places Tartok could be hiding, but Tom couldn’t see any telltale footprints.

  The two sleighs passed through a broad valley that rose and fell in great white sweeps. It was a struggle to keep up with Brendan, but Storm was powerful and determined. Ears flattened against the icy wind, he set such a pace that they never lost sight of the sleigh in front.

  “Are you all right, Tom?” boomed Brendan, his voice echoing around the valley.

  “I’m great!” Tom yelled, the wind whipping water from his eyes, his bones jolting as the sleigh careened over the uneven ground.

  All around them was flat, white wilderness that seemed to stretch on forever, interrupted only by clusters of spindly trees with wide, flat leaves. The sleigh made a smooth scraping noise as they reached a frozen inlet. Tom noticed pools of water and cracks in the ice. Could they have been made by the Beast?

  Tom scanned the horizon for any sign of Tartok. With a gasp of surprise, he saw another sleigh following them, some distance away. Its driver was a small, huddled figure that Tom recognized at once. It was Albin.

  “Brendan!” Tom yelled ahead, but the wind snatched the words from his mouth and Albin’s father was too far in front to hear. Tom heard a thick cracking sound. Storm gave an alarmed whinny as the ice cracked beneath his hooves. Tom looked down and caught a glimpse of glittering turquoise water below. The ice had split open to reveal the sea underneath! Was the sleigh going to plunge into the icy sea?

  “Whoa, Storm!” Tom shouted, and the stallion slowed to a halt. The sleigh lurched to one side, then stopped. Brendan hadn’t noticed anything wrong and was drawing farther away. But Albin was still following in their wake, and if the ice was unsafe …

  “Albin, stop!” Tom shouted, jumping out of the sleigh and waving his arms. “The ice is splitting!”

  But Albin couldn’t hear. Tom watched as the horse dragged the sleigh toward the weakened ice. It was too late. In an instant, the ice broke up around Albin like shattering glass. The horse snorted in terror, rearing up. The sleigh skidded out of control.

  “No!” Tom cried out. He watched helplessly as Albin was thrown over the side of the sleigh into the freezing water.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE RESCUE

  “ALBIN!” YELLED TOM, RUNNING TO WHERE the boy had fallen. Albin had vanished from view. Tom realized he must be under the ice, trying to fight his way back up to the surface.

  Tom hunted around for the tiniest flash of movement. With Albin trapped under the water, Tom knew that every second counted. He threw himself down on his knees, trying to spot some dark shadow on the other side of the ice. After what felt like forever, a shadowy blue outline appeared.

  “Albin!” Tom shouted again. He leaped to his feet and pulled his sword from his side. Taking a huge breath of cold air, he struck the hilt against the ice with all his might. The ice just chipped. But Tom kept striking at it. He could see Albin underneath, struggling desperately. With a final blow, the ice shattered and Albin reared out of the water, gasping for breath and blue with cold. “Help!” he spluttered. “Tom, please —” “Grab hold of me!” Tom yelled. He reached for the boy’s hands but Albin was flailing, splashing water everywhere as he tried to keep himself afloat.

  Albin dipped under the blue water. Tom thrust his arm into the hole and cried out. It was colder than anything he had ever experienced. Within seconds he had lost all feeling in his hand, and was sweeping it numbly through the water.

  Then there was a tug. It was Albin gripping on to him. Tom pulled his arm out of the water, dragging Albin up with it. “Help me, Tom!” he gasped. But he was struggling only feebly now. Tom knew that if the boy let go and went down another time, he would not rise up again. He grabbed Albin with his other hand.

  Then he felt the ice split beneath him.

  Tom held his breath. He looked down and saw the angry crack running through the ice below him. Any sudden movement could split it wide open. “Hook your arm around mine. I’ve got you,” he urged the boy.

  Shivering violently in the water, Albin did as he was told. Tom was starting to shiver, too. He knew he had to get the boy out — but also knew that the ice could give way at any moment, and they would both be lost in the icy wa
ters.

  Suddenly, Tom gasped as he felt a pressure on the backs of his legs. “Hold still, Tom.”

  “Brendan!” Tom cried, relief flooding through him. “I — I think the ice is going to crack under me!”

  “I’ve got you. Just don’t let go of Albin, and I’ll pull you both clear.”

  “Dad?” Albin gasped through chattering teeth. “Is that you?”

  “I’m here,” called Brendan. Tom felt him pull on his legs. Together they were towing Albin toward the edge of the hole in the ice. Tensing his muscles, Tom managed to drag the boy’s upper body up onto the fragile ice. Then Brendan crawled over and hauled his son free of the icy water.

  “Sorry, Father,” Albin breathed.

  “Oh, my son, my son,” Brendan murmured.

  “I’ll fetch some blankets from the sleigh,” Tom panted, his heart thumping like a sledgehammer in his chest. He grabbed a bundle and flew back across the ice. “I’m glad you came back.”

  “I realized you were no longer behind me, so I came looking,” said Brendan, wrapping Albin in the blankets and rubbing the shivering boy’s wrists to get his circulation moving. “Why did you come after me?”

  “Wanted … to bring you … luck, Father,” Albin stammered.

  Brendan cradled his son’s head and smiled warmly at Tom. “I believe this stranger has brought us both luck.”

  Tom smiled back through his exhaustion and staggered to the sleigh to get a blanket for himself. They would build a fire to warm up, and then they would get on their way.

  Back at the sleigh, Storm nickered with concern, pressing his head against Tom’s chest. Tom rubbed his numb fingers against the stallion’s chestnut mane. There was a pounding in his head, and at first, Tom thought it was his racing pulse.

  But the pounding was coming from somewhere else. A distant thumping sound. Not only that, but the ice was trembling faintly beneath his feet. Tom listened hard. There was another sound. The howl of something fierce.

 

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