In The Depths Of Winter

by Bradley Mitzelfelt

  Finally he stood. The waiting was making him antsy and he started bouncing from one foot to the next in anticipation of what they were about to do. It was so much fun to kill people, and here he even had people to help him do it that weren’t totally incompetent! Maybe he should have rethought killing all of the humans in the Vale. It might have served him better to keep some of them around.

  “I think just about everyone is here,” Josette said. “So what do we do?”

  “Follow me,” Gregor said, beckoning with a finger.

  He started walking in the direction that the government soldiers had gone, working his way past the dead bodies and into the street itself, which he walked down the middle of.

  “Shouldn’t we be moving in the shadows, encircling them?”

  “No, heh. That would be what they expect, I think, and it’s really not necessary.”

  Sure enough, the soldiers had set up a wide perimeter, hoping to catch them in smaller groups. They rounded a corner, only a few of them at first, and drew fire, but Gregor was quick to raise a defensive shield, which the bullets smashed against to no effect. When the soldiers realized that the entire enemy force was coming down on them, they broke to run.

  “Athelum de Splicio,” Gregor said, pointing to the glass windows on either side of the fleeing soldiers.

  The glass exploded outward in a shower of nearly invisible blades, slicing into the fleeing enemies with such ferocity that they fell in great numbers. Gregor giggled, and there were cheers behind him. They pressed onward.

  As they neared a large, grandiose building with fluted columns that had little scrolls at the top, which held up a structure that looked much too heavy for them, the rest of the enemy soldiers came into view. Gregor’s troops crowded the street edges, moving to the side so they wouldn’t be giving the enemy a good shot. Gregor just walked right down the center of the road, not paying them any mind.

  Shots rang through the air. It was a veritable cacophony of sound, assaulting the ears as much as the bullets assaulted the bodies of their victims. Everywhere people went down. Many of them were his soldiers, but a lot were also the enemy soldiers. The enemy was outnumbered greatly, and his soldiers were much better trained than they appeared. Josette really knew what she was doing with them. She certainly hadn’t misled him as to what she was capable of, which was why he’d chosen her in the first place.

  Gregor approached the enemy with the shield still in place. The enemy soldiers were dying so quickly that they had a hard time even trying to shoot him. Many of them were smart enough to give up on trying. That was alright, though. It gave Gregor time to lift his hand towards the enemy lines and recite an incantation.

  “Athelum de Mortarium in Victo Powerus Magnus!”

  A wave of energy so immense that it carved a circular arc fifty stories up the nearest building emanated from his hand, aimed directly at the soldiers and the building they were protecting. It was invisible to the naked eye, but it ripped the flesh clean off any living thing in its path, and disintegrated the bones the flesh left behind. Sprays of bone meal spattered across the ground where once human soldiers had stood.

  The building they were trying to protect didn’t do any better. Stone was ripped from where it clung to the buildings frame, shattered into chalky powder. Windows exploded. A gaping hole was soon ripped through the center of the structure, which was unable to hold itself up any longer and collapsed in a haze of stone dust and debris.

  For a few minutes there was stunned silence. Gregor was aware that there were people staring at him from both sides. It didn’t bother him. In fact, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled with a smile on his face. So much glory, and it’s all for me. Yep, yep! The elves won’’t know what hit them when my new soldiers arrive. I can’t wait for them all to die!

  Josette came trotting over to him. Even she had a wide eyed expression.

  “That was something amazing,” she said. “You would rule our world with that kind of power.”

  “Soon I will rule all worlds, heh,” Gregor replied. “But one step at a time, Josette. One step at a time.”

  Chapter Three

  Several feet, all in unison, slapped the stone ground. Their steps sent a metallic echo resonating within the stone corridor. The only sound that was off was the sound of leather boots, spaced several steps between that of the metallic feet, slapping the ground indignantly.

  “Tell me again why I have to go on patrol with you,” Dearic said.

  “Because my uncle thought it would be good for you,” Shakrin said. “Not that I agree with him, but you have become so white you practically glow in the darkness.”

  “I have not.”

  “Well, don’t complain to me when your skin is burnt after this.”

  Dearic grumbled as he followed the line of dwarves up the stone tunnel. They didn’t care that he had no desire to leave the mountain. Orders were orders, and even a human couldn’t refuse to do what the Hallmaster ordered. Dwemorin Ironshield was a legend even amongst the men of Amarand. Refusing him was akin to saying no to your mother. Not that I particularly know what that’s like.

  They neared the end of the steep rise, most of the cave network being below the surrounding land level, and the dwarves slowed before coming to a halt. Shakrin went further, approaching the door itself. When he did, Dearic watched as the dwarf knocked his knuckles against the wall in a small, thinned area. Then he waited.

  “What are you waiting on?”

  “Quiet,” Shakrin said, holding up his hand.

  The dwarf didn’t do much but stand there. Whatever he was waiting for must have been important. After a few minutes, Dearic heard a clicking noise, and then Shakrin reached into an opening in the wall and pulled the door open to reveal two dwarves dressed in grey cloaks that hid all but their faces, standing just outside.

  Now things made sense. Dearic waited as the column marched out, following at the rear once all had moved, not giving Shakrin the gratification of having time to smirk at him for being an idiot. Not being privy to the manner in which the Hall entrances were guarded meant that he wasn’t knowledgeable on the mechanics of the doors, or the fact that there were dwarves waiting outside and keeping watch.

  Outside it was overcast; not a shred of sunlight to be seen anywhere. Water dripped on his head from an overhanging rock, and wherever dirt clung to stone it squished beneath his feet. Not a single one of the dwarves seemed to have any trouble with walking along the face of the mountain. He had a little bit of trouble, what with the slippery stone and all, but it wasn’t too bad.

  “Keep moving. We’ve got a long patrol ahead of us.”

  Dearic glanced over his shoulder to see Shakrin keeping time with them. He must have been waiting for us all to file out before he followed suit. Whatever it is, Shakrin does seem to understand what he’s doing. He takes everything seriously, too. In Dearic’s mind that was a good thing. Those who could maintain calm in the face of danger made the best leaders, unless they happened to be him. All he seemed capable of doing was getting people killed and being blind to the reality of those who traveled with him.

  They marched along the face of the mountain until they met a set of hidden steps that were mostly just places where the rock had been whittled away by wind and rain. To the average eye they’d be nothing more than the mountains form. Only the dwarves would spot it as a stairway. When he was down off of it he looked back. Even his eyes, after having traversed it, had trouble following the path upward.

  “Nobody has ever found it without a dwarves help. You won’t be able to either,” Shakrin said. “Focus.”

  Focus. How was he supposed to focus when he didn’t even know where they were going or why they were doing this? Not like I’m a dwarf, and understand what leaving the mountain is for. Sure I’ve lived here a while, but they act like I understand the minds of dwarves just because I’ve been here. He turned back to where he was walking, and plodded along behind the others, looking much like a gia
nt amongst a bunch of little people.

  They walked for quite a while, circumnavigating the mountain down a steep path between them. They weren’t going to be going far as far as he knew. Considering he hadn’t been told to pack a bedroll, and nobody else was carrying one, it was obvious that they meant to be back before dark. That still could mean a really long walk, though.

  Rocks slid away beneath his feet, and he glanced down the side of the path. If he happened to slip it would be a long way down. He didn’t feel like falling down the mountain.

  The only problem with his not paying attention to where he was walking was that, after twenty minutes of it, the column of dwarves came to a sudden stop. He ran right into the back of the one in front of him, and got a softly muffled curse sent his way for doing so.

  “Sorry. I-“

  “Quiet. Get down,” Shakrin said.

  The other dwarves had all crouched down in the rocks and pulled their gray cloaks around them to hide themselves. They looked just like boulders. He crouched down and pulled his cloak around him, trying to make himself as small as he possibly could. He looked more like a large boulder amongst many smaller ones.

  There wasn’t any particular reason that he could see as to why they’d suddenly gotten down and covered up. He peeked out between the folds of his cloak and searched his surroundings as best he could. His eyes didn’t particularly notice anything out of the ordinary, but he didn’t have the best eyes for this. The lack of light filtering down made everything seem really dark. Whatever had caused them to stop could have been hiding in a shadow somewhere.

  “What is it?” he whispered to Shakrin. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Listen.”

  He frowned and tilted his head to the side, listening. There wasn’t anything he could hear, save for his own heartbeat and the puffs of breath blowing in out of the dwarven lungs on either side of him. He was starting to wonder what it was that they were supposed to be listening to.

  Then he heard it. It was faint at first, almost like a long, distant beat of thunder. It steadily grew louder, and continued at a pace that was noticeably different from a storm. This is definitely not an approaching storm. Something is coming this way. His hand instinctively reached for his sword, but he didn’t draw it. The silence around them was so nearly complete that if he drew his sword he would ruin it and potentially draw the attention of whatever was coming.

  When it came into view of the dwarves, they stiffened enough as to huddle closer together, and he could hear some light whispering in the dwarvish tongue. Whatever it was they were saying, it was clear that they were agitated. When he saw what they did, he knew why.

  There were a lot of them. And they were strange. Some were small. Some were tall. Some were absolutely massive and plodded along at a really slow pace. They were all covered head to toe in metal. He couldn’t even tell what the color of their skin was. They were hunched, just slightly, and they were carrying some sort of device in their hands that he hadn’t ever seen before.

  One of them, he couldn’t tell which, made a sound that reminded him of wind blowing through a long tunnel that slowly tapers to a large hole. It was loud and deep, and as soon as it resounded the smaller ones turned towards the mountain opposite of them, lifted the things in their hands, and bright lights erupted from them. Where those lights hit, the rock exploded. He nearly jumped in surprise.

  The others all dropped flat on the ground, and he did the same while the attention of the strange beings was occupied elsewhere. What in God’s name was that? What did they just do? They made the rock explode! He took a few deep breaths and put his ear to the ground, trying not to be conspicuous.

  As he listened, the mountain rumbled beneath him. The creatures were moving again. No more sounds like what he’d heard before, but the column of creatures continued moving along. Soon enough the sounds were fading into the distance and he lifted his head so that he could look above the stones and rocks around him.

  The creatures were moving away from them. The larger ones, easily three times the size of a human, slowly plodding along while the smaller ones moved about them, continuing onward in the direction of Pabila. Once they were out of earshot, he turned and looked at Shakrin.

  “What was that?”

  “I don’t know, but they’re heading for the Hall. We need to get back.”

  The dwarf stood up and turned away, but Dearic reached his hand out and grabbed him by the arm.

  “Wait. The doors are closed, right? If we head back, and they spot us, they’ll know where the doors are. They could blow them apart with those lights and get right in. We have to wait.”

  “Don’t tell me what we have to do, human,” Shakrin said, withdrawing his arm. “If they aren’t warned, they might open the doors to them.”

  “Why would they? Nobody goes in and out of those doors except people sent out for specific reasons. You know this.” One of the other dwarves said.

  Dearic stood and looked off towards where they’d come from. “If we go back now, if we open those doors, those things will know where Pabila is. What happens if someone else is watching them? What happens if someone else sees the doors open?”

  Shakrin twitched. Not a simple finger twitch, but his entire body seemed to writhe. Dearic couldn’t tell if this was because of the realization that what he said was true, or simply because there was something wrong with the dwarf. Dearic glanced at the others, but none of them spoke. It seemed they were content to stand and wait.

  It seemed like forever before Shakrin turned to look at them. When he did, his face was blank, eyes hollow.

  “We wait. We can’t risk them finding the entrance to Pabila.”

  Now the dwarf was making some sense. At least he realized that what I was saying was true, and didn’t make a mistake that he would end up regretting. Dearic sat back on a boulder to wait. Who knew how long it would be?

  “Don’t sit down, Dearic,” Shakrin said. “Come with me.”

  “Come with you where?”

  “Just follow.”

  He stood and followed the dwarf further down the mountain. They made their way across the path that the creatures had trampled down, and approached the other mountain face. Up they climbed towards the spot where the beams of light had caused an explosion of stone. What they saw when they neared it made Dearic shudder and cover his nose.

  “Looks like what used to be a goblin,” he said. “It’s so charred you almost can’t tell. Smells horrible to.”

  “It was a goblin. I saw it before they killed it.” Shakrin prodded the body with a toe before he turned on Dearic. “Don’t ever challenge my authority in front of my men, human. This isn’t your kingdom. You speak out of turn. Were it not for my uncle you wouldn’t be here as it is. Consider this a final warning.”

  Dearic stared at the dwarf, a little shocked at what he’d just been told. “I only spoke the truth.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You challenged my authority, and you were right. The others will begin to question my ability to lead them which in turn makes me ineffectual. If they question my authority they may resist an order and that could lead to someone dying.”

  “But you could have made the Halls a target if I didn’t say anything.”

  “I know that now, but don’t ever do it again.”

  It didn’t make any sense to him, but he decided not to say anything further on the matter. Clearly Shakrin was angry with him. Considering that what he’d said was the truth, if he hadn’t spoken up the Hall would have likely been compromised and Shakrin would have been responsible for the deaths of a great many of his kin. If he had to get yelled at in order to spare Shakrin that pain then so be it. To be honest, he didn’t want to see a bunch of dwarves killed by whatever the armored beings were.

  “It was a lone goblin.”

  Dearic blinked and looked around.

  “How can you tell?” he asked. “I don’t see anything to indicate there aren’t others skulking nearby.”

&n
bsp; “They fired on one spot, and there’s not been any other movement. No other bodies. One weapon. Probably a scout of some sort. If they could spot him and kill him so easily, they’d have done the same with any others.”

  “Think he was following us?”

  “No. Probably just stumbled across us and squatted down to watch.”

  “They don’t travel too far from their ilk, though. There’s likely a party of them around here somewhere.”

  “Most likely,” Shakrin said. He was looking back towards Pabila. “Normally we’d hunt them down, but I think that the circumstances require we ignore them for the time being.”

  The dwarf stood there for a little bit before he turned and glanced across the gap to where the others were waiting. A lifted hand signaled for them to move out, and they started trudging back along the path in the direction of Pabila. Dearic watched them go and then looked back to Shakrin.

  “Are you sending them on without us?”

  “No,” the dwarf said. “We will move opposite them. Just in case.”

  As he looked on, he noticed the path on this side of the mountain as well. There were paths that ran throughout the mountains. Most of them had been forged by orc or goblin feet, but some of them were trails traveled by humans passing from one kingdom to the next. Elves traveled the open territory in the valleys as well, though they often did so on horseback or in a wagon.

  Dearic had only met a couple of elves, and they’d always seemed like they thought they were better than everyone. In some respects they were, considering they lived forever and were more intelligent than seemingly every race in Amarand. The only possible beings that he’d ever met which might trump an elves longevity and intelligence would be the Mists.

  Briefly his mind drifted back to Aiyana, the Mist who’d said she was his. I wonder how she’s doing. Maybe I should go back and see her sometime. I know I said it was a onetime deal, but what could it really hurt?

  Shakrin had started walking already, so Dearic hurried to catch up with the short-legged warrior. Not that it was hard for him to do so considering his stride was so much larger. They hurried on towards Pabila, keeping an eye on their surroundings and remaining silent. The others moved across the way, nearly invisible to those who weren’t looking for them.