The Curse of the Ice Serpent

by Jon Mayhew

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THE ICE FIELD

  The first feeble light of morning broke over the quayside.

  ‘I hate the winter here,’ Dakkar murmured to Georgia. ‘The days are short and the nights are long.’

  Commander Blizzard sat in a large wooden chair and stared at the depleted group of men before him. His pale face showed no emotion, although the scar that ran down one side of his cheek made him look as if he were frowning. Dakkar followed Blizzard’s eyes as he surveyed the men wrapped in sealskins and armed to the teeth.

  Tingenek busied himself around the sledges and the dogs that were to pull them. With Blizzard’s permission, he had called on the help of some other local hunters. His two men were sombre and silent, their faces muffled under sealskin and scarves.

  ‘This is Igaluk,’ Tingenek said, pointing to the first man. ‘This is Onartok. Good hunters, good trackers. Not as good as me, of course!’

  They gave a short bow to Blizzard and hurried off to lash the covers over the sledges and attach leather harnesses to the dogs.

  ‘Those dogs look like wolves,’ Georgia said, watching them warily. ‘Why don’t we get horses to pull the sleds?’

  ‘The dogs are powerful and strong and used to the cold,’ Fletcher said. ‘Some of the officers kicked up a fuss when Commander Blizzard told us to use them but he just pointed to the Inuit and said, “If it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for us.” ’

  Dakkar looked at the sledges piled high with food and tents. ‘They must be very strong,’ he said, ‘to pull all that.’

  ‘I wish I was coming with you,’ Blizzard said quietly. ‘But HMS Slaughter must be protected and repaired.’

  ‘We’ll keep our rifles loaded and our wits about us,’ Dakkar replied. ‘Tomasz’s creatures are still out there, waiting for us.’

  ‘Good luck, Dakkar,’ Blizzard said, giving him a salute. ‘Sergeant Baines will command the men but will take advice from you.’

  A burly marine in red uniform stood to attention at the mention of his name and gave Dakkar a nod. Dakkar recognised him as the man who had tied Tingenek up after the attack. Baines seemed to be bursting out of his jacket, his ruddy face hidden behind a thick copper beard.

  Tingenek waved his readiness from the front of the group and Blizzard called the men to order. Soon the party left the ramshackle clutter of huts and sheds behind and trudged out into the frozen wastes of the ice field.

  The dog sledges raced ahead, opening a huge gap between them and the marching soldiers, but Tingenek walked at Dakkar’s side along with two guards.

  ‘You think I’ll go running off like a hare?’ Tingenek grumbled, pulling a furious face. ‘You don’t trust me.’

  ‘No, Tingenek, I don’t,’ Dakkar said.

  Tingenek tapped his forehead. ‘You’re not stupid!’ He smiled.

  ‘The three hunters have a guard assigned to each of them, sir,’ Sergeant Baines said. ‘They’ll set up camp as we agreed. Our tents will be ready when we arrive and food prepared.’

  ‘You’re too clever for me,’ Tingenek said, giving a wide grin.

  ‘I think Tingenek is smarter than he acts,’ Georgia muttered to Dakkar. ‘There’s something about him I don’t trust.’

  ‘Well, he’s all we’ve got,’ Dakkar replied, ‘now that Borys has been taken.’

  They marched through a rolling landscape that reminded Dakkar of the moors around the castle. He swallowed hard, thinking of the last time he had seen it, blazing and broken. He coughed and blinked furiously, hoping that the men who walked alongside him didn’t see.

  ‘You all right, Dax?’ Fletcher asked, genuine concern in his voice.

  ‘It’s Dakkar. And, yes, I’m fine.’

  Gradually, as the day wore on, the rolling hills and coarse scrubby grass gave way to bare rock. They scrambled up piles of stone, silt filling their boots, but the white of the ice field glistened above them.

  ‘Once we climb up here we are on the ice,’ Tingenek said, beaming. ‘Then fun begins!’

  ‘Fun?’ Dakkar said.

  ‘Ice rivers,’ Tingenek said, grinning even more. ‘Cre­­vasses, mountains!’

  ‘It doesn’t sound like fun,’ Baines said, his eyes frosty. ‘Bloomin’ heathen land, if you ask me. One wrong move and the ice will be red with your blood.’

  ‘I will keep us all safe,’ the wily Inuit replied, narrowing his eyes. ‘I love my own skin too!’

  He hurried forward, followed by Baines, who had fixed his bayonet to his rifle. But Tingenek wasn’t making a bid for freedom, just peering ahead.

  ‘That much I do believe,’ Dakkar muttered.

  The land rose, rocks and gravel making climbing slippery and difficult. Finally Dakkar crested the hill and stared out, holding his breath in wonder.

  The feeble daylight had almost died and Dakkar found himself staring out over a sea of ice. The wind-sculpted waves rippled on into the distance, where ice mountains and pillars pointed into the darkening sky. The ice seemed to glow pale and ghostly and, somewhere far off, a light flickered weakly.

  ‘Our camp,’ Tingenek said, appearing beside Dakkar and making him jump. ‘We must get there soon.’

  Georgia struggled up the bank and stood next to Dakkar, gazing at the ice plain in awe. Soon Fletcher and the marines all reached the top and stood to rest for a second.

  ‘Tingenek,’ Georgia said, ‘is this the only way on to the ice plain?’

  ‘The eagles fly on to the plain!’ Tingenek said, licking his cracked lips. ‘Unless you can fly, this one is best for us. Other ways take days more! Come along, come along. We must hurry!’

  Walking became harder as they crunched over the ice. The ground felt slick and uneven under their feet, making them slip and stumble. Dakkar’s thigh muscles burned. Conversation fell to a minimum as all eyes focused on the lights of the camp growing nearer. Dakkar grinned at the faint howling of the dogs.

  ‘That’s a sound I never thought I’d be pleased to hear,’ he panted to Georgia.

  Finally they could see the triangular tents made from sealskin stretched over long poles poked into the ice.

  ‘Tupiq,’ Tingenek said, pointing to the tents. ‘They keep us safe from the cold.’

  The sledges lay tied up with the dogs and a fire glowed inside each tent. The smell of a rich fishy broth made Dakkar’s mouth water as he headed for the tents. Baines barked orders to the other marines and they began taking position as sentries or stowing their gear into the tupiqs.

  Dakkar shivered at the delicious warmth that enveloped him as he ducked under the door flap of his tupiq and stepped in.

  ‘This is a bit of all right!’ Fletcher said, barging in and warming his hands at the portable iron stove that sat at the centre of the tent.

  ‘Wrong tent, Fletcher,’ Baines said as he entered. ‘I think you’ll find your bed is in the other one.’

  ‘Oh, right, sir. Sorry, sir,’ Fletcher said, fumbling a salute and hurrying outside.

  Baines winked. ‘He may be Blizzard’s little darlin’ but that don’t mean I have to put up with him,’ he said, listening to Fletcher arguing in the next tent with one of the marines about where his bed was. ‘Cheeky blighter.’

  ‘Like someone else I know,’ Georgia giggled, staring at Dakkar.

  ‘You’re insulting a prince of the blood!’ Dakkar said, but he half smiled.

  Sleep didn’t come easily. The ice floor made everything cold and, even though the hide beds they had brought lifted them off the ground, the air was deadly chill. Dakkar lay shivering, hugging himself, in his sealskin clothes. When he dozed, his dreams were a horrible mixture of the burning castle, Oginski falling and Borys being pulled into the depths.

  Dakkar’s eyes snapped open. A loud hiss had woken him up. Something was outside the tent – and it wanted to get in.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  NIGHT HUNTER

  Dakkar lay frozen in his bed. The red glow of the stove lit the inside of the
tent but gave little warmth. An occasional grunt or yawn drifted up from the hunched figures of the marines and Baines as they slept. Georgia lay in the bed nearest to him, her eyes wide open.

  ‘Did you hear it too?’ she whispered.

  Dakkar nodded and eased himself up from the bed. The sound of something scraping across the ice made him frown. It was as if someone were dragging a large sack along the frozen ground just outside the tent.

  The rifles lay propped against a rack by the door, loaded and ready to snatch up at the first sound of trouble. Dakkar inched over and closed his fingers round the barrel.

  A muffled cry and the sound of boots stamping on snow outside made his stomach lurch. A single gunshot set the sledge dogs howling and sent marines spilling from their beds towards the rifle rack.

  Baines jumped to his feet. ‘Dakkar,’ he called, ‘what is it?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Dakkar replied.

  Hurrying out of the tent into the freezing night, ignoring the yelp of the dogs, he ran around the back of the tent to where he had heard the hissing – and stopped dead.

  The only evidence of the guard was a pool of blood on the ice and the man’s rifle, broken in two. Dakkar turned his head away. There was no other sign of the attack apart from bloody smudges on the ice that trailed away into the darkness.

  ‘Good Lord,’ Baines gasped, joining Dakkar.

  ‘It is the curse,’ Tingenek whispered, appearing from the shadows of the tent. ‘Tizheruk.’

  ‘Tizheruk?’ Dakkar said, shivering.

  ‘His magic is great. Not even the sledge dogs hear him,’ Tingenek said. ‘He will take us one by one.’

  ‘Not if I get a shot at him with this,’ Baines muttered, lifting a wide-muzzled blunderbuss.

  ‘Your guns cannot harm him. See.’ Tingenek pointed to the shattered rifle on the ground. ‘Look what he does to them.’

  ‘What is Tizheruk?’ Dakkar stared at the pool of blood and the gun.

  Tingenek gave a dramatic shrug. ‘If I knew that, I’d be dead! Maybe a demon made of ice, maybe a walrus with bear’s teeth.’

  ‘If it’s that tough, how come it has to sneak up on us in the night?’ Baines said loudly, noticing that more marines had gathered around the gory puddle. ‘One good shot will see it off. Eh, lads?’

  The marines murmured and nodded in agreement but there was little confidence in their faces.

  ‘We’ll double the guard,’ Baines said briskly. ‘Let’s get ready to strike camp. I doubt anyone will sleep now. We’d better keep moving!’

  The bustle of packing up seemed exaggerated to Dakkar, as if the men were eager to avoid thinking about what had just happened. Tupiqs were emptied and pulled down quickly and provisions lashed back on to the sledges. Soon they stood ready to leave, each man peering into the dark, the plume of their breath hiding their pale faces.

  ‘It’s horrible, thinking that thing is lurking out there, following us,’ Georgia said to Dakkar as they began marching.

  ‘Don’t worry, ma’am,’ Fletcher said gallantly. ‘I’ll protect you from the beast!’

  ‘Thank you, kind sir,’ Georgia said, suppressing a smirk. ‘But I can look after myself quite well.’

  ‘You haven’t sailed with Commander Blizzard for long then, Fletcher?’ Dakkar said, narrowing his eyes at the boy.

  ‘No,’ Fletcher said, not seeming to notice the coldness in Dakkar’s voice. ‘I was on the street when Blizzard found me and took me to the Naval Asylum. My dad died on a mission for Blizzard when I was a nipper and me mum turned to drink. I became a top-notch pickpocket and was quick on me heels too!’

  ‘You stole from people?’ Dakkar said. So Blizzard employs criminals now?

  ‘Yeah, well.’ Fletcher looked at the floor. ‘Didn’t have much choice. Either that or starve, I suppose.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Dakkar said, a pang of guilt washing over him. Not everyone had the advantages he’d had as a small child.

  The thin line of men followed the dog sledges through the endless ridged waves of ice. The days dawned feebly and barely seemed to last. Dakkar’s head swam as the world became a monotonous blur of white.

  ‘Keep your wits about you, Dakkar,’ Baines said, clapping him on the shoulder and making him start.

  ‘Easy for him to say,’ Georgia muttered. Baines seemed unaffected by cold or the hard, uneven ground that made every step an effort.

  They snatched short hours of sleep, pitching one tupiq and cramming inside for warmth and security. The sound of shuffling boots crunching on the ice and that chilling hiss filled Dakkar’s dreams.

  Two guards vanished on the third night of their trek. They didn’t even have a chance to fire a shot or warn anyone, and once more the dogs made no sound.

  ‘Tizheruk again,’ Tingenek said, looking grimly at the spot where the men had stood sentry.

  ‘How could anything big enough to take two men move so quietly?’ Fletcher said, shivering.

  Dakkar swallowed hard. Is this how it’s going to end? he thought. Picked off one by one in the night?

  ‘I think we should try and outsmart it,’ Dakkar said to Baines. ‘This thing thinks it’s got us where it wants us. What if we turn on it?’

  Baines rubbed his beard and nodded. ‘I like your spirit, Dakkar,’ he said. ‘The men are spoiling for a fight but we must reach this cave and find the Thermolith.’

  ‘There won’t be any of us left to do that. We’re already down to seven marines,’ Dakkar said, keeping his voice low. ‘Tonight I suggest we pitch camp as usual then wait, armed and ready within the tents.’

  Baines chewed the idea over, glancing at his men and back at Dakkar. ‘Very well,’ he said finally. ‘We’ll give it a go. We can’t keep on losing men like this.’

  That night, Dakkar suggested he, Georgia and Fletcher took a turn on guard. Baines was reluctant at first but Dakkar insisted.

  ‘Just don’t take any chances,’ Baines said, eyeing Dakkar warily. ‘First sign of trouble, let us know.’

  Silence fell as Dakkar looked at Georgia and Fletcher. Their breath plumed in clouds, made silver by the moonlight. The moon illuminated everything but made the shadows deeper at the same time. A few yards from the tent, the dogs huddled, giving an occasional whine. Dakkar shivered.

  ‘We should stand back to back –’ Georgia suggested but a distant sound cut off her speech.

  The sound of a heavy weight dragging or scraping across the ice. They all strained to listen. The dogs flattened their ears and crushed themselves to the ground as if trying to make themselves invisible.

  ‘What is that thing?’ Fletcher whispered. ‘Even the dogs are terrified.’

  ‘It’s getting closer,’ Dakkar said, scanning the darkness. ‘But where from? Which direction?’

  ‘It’s over there,’ Georgia whispered. She lifted her rifle and pointed towards the crest of a ridge.

  ‘No, it’s this way!’ Fletcher said, hurrying away from the tent.

  ‘Fletcher, no!’

  Dakkar ran after him but Fletcher charged towards a distant island of rocks in the otherwise flat desert of ice before them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  BAD ICE

  Fletcher stopped dead just ahead of Dakkar. The ice crunched under Dakkar’s feet and the sound of his ragged breathing filled the air.

  ‘Fletcher, you fool,’ Dakkar snapped, catching his breath. ‘What are you playing at?’

  Fletcher squinted ahead into the darkness. ‘I could’ve sworn I heard it,’ he replied.

  ‘We’d better get back to the camp,’ Dakkar said. ‘That thing could –’

  A rifle cracked in the distance behind them and the howling from the sledge dogs began.

  ‘Georgia!’ Dakkar said, spinning on his heel and sprinting hard back towards the tent. Fletcher ran after him.

  Georgia stood with the rifle trembling in her hands. Baines and the other marines stood around her, their weapons primed and ready, but there was no sign of any creatur
e.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Dakkar said. ‘Did you see anything?’

  ‘Just a shape over there.’ Georgia pointed to behind the tupiq. ‘It moved so fast! Something large and white.’

  ‘A polar bear, perhaps?’ Baines said, unconvinced by his own suggestion.

  Tingenek gave a snort. ‘Tizheruk is clever. He won’t be tricked by you.’

  ‘Well, we scared it off for now,’ Dakkar said. ‘Georgia, Fletcher and I will keep guard for a while if you and your men want to go back to sleep.’

  Baines nodded curtly.

  The rest of the night passed uneventfully. Another day’s weary march found the party standing at the edge of a smooth, blue patch of ice that stretched off into a haze. It seemed to glow like a summer sky frozen into the ground.

  ‘This wasn’t here before,’ Tingenek muttered. ‘A lake under thin ice. Not right.’

  ‘You mean it’s not natural?’ Georgia said, frowning.

  Tingenek shook his head. ‘Not right,’ he repeated. ‘Not safe. We should go round.’

  ‘But that would put days on to the journey,’ Baines said, shielding his eyes and gazing across the expanse of blue ice. ‘We can’t afford to waste the time.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Dakkar agreed. ‘Tomasz has got Borys and they’ll find the Heart of Vulcan while we just waste time.’

  ‘I’m so glad I came,’ Tingenek muttered, pulling a pained face. ‘You ask me questions but don’t listen to the answers. You’re crazy!’

  Tingenek said something to Igaluk and Onartok in Inuit. They shook their heads but resignedly drove the dogs on to the ice. Baines led the marines out on to the blue expanse.

  Dakkar stepped on the glassy surface, half expecting it to shatter under his feet and plunge him into icy waters below. The ice held but gave an ominous, grating creak as he took each step.

  ‘Will this ice hold us?’ he asked Tingenek, who walked alongside him.

  ‘It will hold me,’ Tingenek murmured, his eyes fixed on Baines, who marched at the front of their line. ‘He looks a bit fat. We should be fine.’ Tingenek glanced down at his feet.

  Dakkar followed his gaze. Water shifted under the clear ice. Is there something down there, under the ice?