by Devon Vesper
Chapter Nine
“Are you an icicle yet?” Tavros asked above the wind that blasted them. Everyone had their thickest winter cloaks on over several layers of clothes. Most wore twisted shirts wrapped around their faces, their hoods covering everything the material would allow. Even so, the wind blew back hoods, making everyone miserable.
“Not quite yet, but I’m getting there,” Valis replied through chattering teeth.
Sixteen days after they left Setira City, Valis wished they could bring portable hearths with them somehow. He missed their warm room. Missed home even more. As they rode through the deep snowbanks with Valis magically melting the snow enough to ride through, Valis tried not to lose himself to memories of home—warm hearths making the white walls glow, the scent of Tavros’s clean hair in his nose as they snuggled under the covers of their bed, Aenali’s excited voice when she would come in and dive into their bed to wake them for outings into Cadoras. He missed it all.
But he missed his father more and did his best to keep his mind on task.
He was so focused on keeping his mind on task—clearing their path so they could continue to make fast progress—that when Venabi rode up next to him and shouted to get his attention, Valis nearly jumped out of his saddle.
“Valis! Gods, boy, get out of your head.”
Valis choked on his own spit and coughed to clear his airway. “Sorry. What?”
She adjusted the shirt around her face. “A blizzard is coming.”
Valis glanced up and raised both brows at the dark storm clouds that belched giant, fat flakes of snow onto his upturned face and swirled them around their horses into drifts that came up past their horses’ knees. “This isn’t a blizzard?”
Venabi laughed, loud and throaty. “This is just the beginning.”
“Aren’t we too far south for a blizzard like this?”
The woman shrugged. “Whether we are or not, it’s going to be upon us within a few hours’ time.”
“Fuck.”
She shook her head. “I am sorry for not alerting you sooner. I am not as good at weather casting as Vodis.”
Grinning under his shirt-mask, Valis waved her concern away. “Any notice is better than none. Thank you for alerting me at all. We’ll deal with it. We have no choice.”
Venabi gave him a nod and fell back into line. With her gone, Valis sighed and tried to stretch his aching joints as best he could. They all did their best to regulate their body temperature, but with as cold as it was, nothing worked. Valis tried everything he could think of, but the body temperature regulation spell could only do so much to ward off the intense cold from the howling wind. And it was supposed to get worse? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
A shiver raced down Valis’s spine, but he fought it back and shouted behind him, “Shyvus! Get up here!”
Valis heard hooves pounding the ground, and a moment later, Shyvus reined in his horse to his left. “What’s the matter?”
Sighing, Valis pulled his shirt-mask tighter about his face. “We’re in for a full blizzard in a few hours. We need to make it farther south if we can. Hopefully, the farther south we get, the less severe the storm will be.”
He motioned behind him toward the army. “I need a group of six reliquary guards or magically stronger Aesriphos up here helping me melt the snow so we can ride hard. I want them changed out for fresh mages every twenty minutes so they don’t get too depleted. Can you do that?”
Shyvus nodded. “What spell are you using to melt the snow?”
“The pyre spell I taught you all a while back. The snow’s so thick that there’s no risk of catching anything on fire so long as we just focus on the snow.”
“Got it,” Shyvus shouted over the sudden rush of biting, roaring wind. “Let me sort the ranks, and we’ll be up here momentarily. Phalin and I will be part of the first wave of reliquary guard support.”
“Good. We’re going to be riding as hard as we can. Hopefully, those we left behind can weather this until the storm breaks.”
Shyvus’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “You forget, lad. We’ve been doing this since long before you were even thought of. They will be fine. And the Aesriphos will keep our tropical Kalutakeni from freezing to death.”
“I feel better that only a few stayed behind,” Valis admitted. “I feel responsible for them, so I’m glad they’re mostly with us.”
“Enough about that, lad. Let’s get this company moving. We have a storm to outrun.”
“No real chance of that,” Tavros muttered, “but let’s try.”
Shyvus fell back, the shirt over his face coming half undone as he urged his horse around. Valis watched him as he cursed and rewound it until he was out of sight in the ranks. When he turned back around, Tavros tapped his arm. Neither of them wore their armor. It was too cold, and the need for layers had become greater than the need for anything else.
“How far do you think we can get with your plan?”
Valis sighed and gazed out over the plains of driven snow. “I’m not sure. Maybe a few miles if we’re lucky. But the further south we get, the less severe I’m hoping this blizzard will be. It’s not a guarantee, especially if the storm is moving with us, but it’s all we have.”
“The pyre spell, huh?”
“Yes. Aim it toward the ground. The snow will melt away and leave a path for our horses like it’s been doing when I cast it. With several mages up here casting at the same time, we should be able to advance at a good gallop.”
Tavros nodded. Then he looked up and groaned. Valis looked up, too and set his jaw as the clouds belched out yet more snow in never-ending swirls of purity. Valis wondered if the flakes were actually getting fatter, or if it was just his imagination going wild with thoughts of the impending blizzard.
A few flakes caught on his eyelashes, and Valis brushed them away with a shiver. They really should be looking for shelter, but they didn’t have time to stop. It was just getting to be daylight, and they needed to make good time to attack Braywar’s estate if they were to have any chance of saving the last anchor team.
But he also couldn’t sacrifice his men and women in a break-neck attempt at making good time. The very thought made his stomach churn with anxiety. He took a few deep, calming breaths as he reached into his pack and drew out a fresh shirt to replace the one around his face. His breath had made it moist, making his face chilled. Once he had them swapped, he glanced up at the sky again, then back down to melt another swath of snow. They hadn’t stopped to make these plans. Rasera’s gait remained steady and strong. Thank the gods he had forced the issue of horse blankets and wraps to keep their mounts warm.
Moments later the first team of reliquary guards joined Valis and Tavros at the front of the army, three on either side of them. After a brief explanation, they all focused their pyre spells forward and Valis grinned. It may just work.
Their gold magic lit up the gloomy, gray morning ahead of them and Valis called to the ranks, “Let’s move! Double time. We have an anchor team waiting.”
“But sir,” Phalin called, “they don’t know we’re coming.”
Valis laughed as they urged their mounts into a ground-eating gallop through the valley of melted slush. “They’re not waiting, anyway. That’s why we have to hurry.”
“You get amused by the strangest things,” Phalin mused.
Grinning, Valis shrugged. “We’ve got to keep our spirits up somehow.”
“Indeed.”
By mid-afternoon, Valis glanced back. They had traveled far, and he needed to check on the horses. They all seemed fine, and truthfully, Valis had been varying the speed at which they traveled so as not to stress their mounts overmuch. But they worried him. They left most of the riderless herd back with the main bulk of the army. They really had no spares, and many of the horses were dear to their riders, like family. They couldn’t afford to lose horses because Valis was careless.
He turned back around and glanced at the sky. The snow seemed to be thinn
ing, but he knew that Venabi wasn’t wrong. This was the calm before the storm, and he hoped it lasted longer than he expected and feared. The longer the reprieve lasted, the farther they could get at this faster pace.
Or so he hoped.
It was time. They had ridden at a slow canter for a good hour. Now it was time for two hours of galloping. The horses should be rested enough by now. His horse Rasera seemed not to mind running all day. Some of the other horses, however, seemed like they might fatigue early. He hoped their energy lasted at least until nightfall.
Valis signaled to those with him, and, as a unit, they urged their horses into another ground-eating gallop through the frozen mud and slush. Shyvus led the way, knowing better than Valis which way was south. His calls sounded eerie in the frozen air, but Valis took heart from his voice. It was a comfort from home that he could keep with him.
An hour into their hard ride, Valis started feeling ill. His stomach pitted, but it felt more like his digestive system acting up rather than a precognitive feeling. But the farther and harder they rode, the harder his stomach pitted until Valis doubled over in his saddle.
“What’s wrong, lad?” Shyvus called from his left.
Valis shook his head. “Something bad is going to happen. My stomach’s pitting.”
“Should we stop?”
Should they? Valis didn’t want to stop. They still had too far to go. But if this wasn’t precognitive pitting, he probably should stop to squat for a few minutes. If it was precognitive pitting, they should stop until they figured out what was causing it. If they could figure out what was causing it. Usually, he never figured it out until the trouble smacked him in the face.
Valis was about to call a halt when it happened. His horse slipped on a bit of ice that had been hidden under the slush. Rasera screamed as he tried to right himself. But beside him, Tavros’s horse went down hard.
Valis heard a snap, and his stomach pitted so hard that he nearly blacked out.
Then Tavros screamed.
Valis’s entire world narrowed down to the sound of his mate in pain. He vaulted off Rasera’s back before his horse had managed to get his footing and raced back to where Tavros’s horse rocked, trying to get back on his hooves. With every rocking, what little of Tavros’s face Valis could see grew whiter and whiter. His voice became hoarser and hoarser with each scream. Valis slid on the patch of ice and fell to his knees in a skid, coming to a stop by Tavros’s head.
“Someone help his horse! Get him up! Phalin, help me get Tavros out from under him.”
Four people came to get the horse back on his feet. Another released Tavros’s foot from the stirrup. Another risked getting crushed by lowering to his belly to get the foot Tavros had caught under the horse free of that stirrup. When he looked back at Valis with wide eyes and a shaking hand, Valis’s gut dropped again.
“It’s bad, sir. There’s blood everywhere. It’s already soaked through his layers.”
Valis looked down into Tavros’s terrified eyes as he clenched his jaw against more screams. He leaned down and whispered against his ear. “I’ll never let you suffer.” Tavros closed his eyes, tears of pain falling from the corners as Valis placed his right hand on Tavros’s head and sent him into a deep, magical sleep.
“What did you do, lad?” Shyvus demanded.
“I knocked him out so he doesn’t have to suffer through this pain,” Valis said as calmly as he could. “I won’t let him suffer if it’s within my means to keep him from it.”
Shyvus gave him a curt nod. A few moments later, they had Tavros clear of the horse and the horse on his hooves.
When Valis saw Tavros’s leg twisted the wrong way, the blood spreading along his layers of pants at an alarming rate, his breath hitched and he called over his shoulder. “Make camp!”
Valis gathered Tavros up and carried him out of the slush. He had to get his husband warm and dry before anything else happened. And he had to get the bleeding stopped. But before he could stop the bleeding, he had to get Tavros’s pants off to assess the damage. It was not doing him any favors that the snow was almost waist deep on either side of the trail he and the other six Aesriphos had made, either.
“How is his horse?”
Jedai bounded through the snow with Maphias close behind. “He’s okay. Spooked more than injured.”
“Can you guys get in his pack and get whatever clean clothes you can find? As many layers as you can. We have to get him warm and dry, and I have to stop the bleeding and set his leg before I can start healing him.”
Maphias stopped in his tracks, turned around on his heel and bounded through the snow back toward Tavros’s horse and his packs. Jedai came up and grimaced. “His leg looks bad.”
Valis nodded. “It does. I can’t tell exactly how bad until we get his pants off.”
“You knocked him out?” When Valis nodded, Jedai sighed. “Good. He doesn’t need to be awake for this shit. I’d punch him if he were still awake.”
Huffing a laugh, Valis looked down at his lover’s face. “Glad to know you care.”
Jedai shrugged. “Better than him feeling that shit.”
“It is.”
“They’re setting up your tent first,” Shyvus said as he came over. He trudged through the snow with a determined march, much more graceful than Jedai and Maphias had, though he was using the path his friends had created. “Once it’s set up, Phalin and I will help you get him situated and be there for whatever you might need.”
“Right now we just need to get him warm. He’s covered in slush from the fall and bleeding freely.”
Shyvus frowned and sighed. “We’ll get him sorted, lad.” He glanced back behind Valis and motioned that direction. “They have your tent up. Let’s get him inside and get him warm.”
“Yeah.” Valis turned and trudged toward his tent, wincing at the biting wind that kicked up snow. Once he made it into the tent, Shyvus entered behind him and helped Valis lay Tavros down on the tent floor, away from the bedrolls because of how wet he was.
Phalin called in a moment later. “Need more help?”
“Not yet,” Valis called back. “Stay close.”
“Will do. Maphias is here with your packs and saddlebags.” A moment later, Maphias deposited them inside the tent and backed out. “We’ll let you know when the rest of the camp is made so you can set the shield.”
Between the two of them, Valis and Shyvus got Tavros undressed and moved to the bedrolls with a towel beneath Tavros’s ruined knee. While Shyvus applied a tourniquet to stop the bleeding, Valis checked the bones and grimaced.
This is bad, my son, Roba said. There may be bone shards. His femur is definitely snapped, and it looks as if the tibia and fibula are, as well. You need to straighten all the bones out properly, or he’ll never walk again without a limp, even with magical healing.
“Femur snapped,” Valis said. “Dad said it looks like his tibia and fibula snapped, too.”
Shyvus glanced up. “Roba?”
Valis nodded. “He’s still there.”
“Well, let’s get Tavros sorted,” Shyvus said as he removed his gloves. “We have to dig into his wound to—”
“—make sure we get any bone fragments out,” Valis finished. He removed his gloves, too. “How long do you think this will take?”
“Not sure. We need to get him warm, too. You deal with that. I’ll straighten his leg and search for bone fragments.”
Nodding, Valis pulled Tavros’s packs over and dumped out the contents next to him. He sifted, but all he could find were shirts. But that would help warm his core. Sorting through them, he pulled out the thinnest first and started dressing his mate in whatever he could find, adding layers as he went. Tavros would just have to deal with wearing Valis’s pants until they could get his clean and dry.
“Need any help?” Maphias asked from outside the tent.
“Can you clean and dry Tav’s clothes?” Valis tossed the offending things outside the tent flaps and went back to
work. “He’s got no pants for me to dress him in. And everything is littered with ice and slush and blood.”
“You got it.”
“Thanks.”
Tavros’s wheeze brought Valis’s attention back. He looked so blue that Valis’s heart lurched and throbbed painfully. Valis had to get him warm. Until they fixed his leg, though, all Valis could do was dress his upper body and toss his cloak over him to try and get him warm. But it wasn’t working. With every passing moment, Tavros became bluer until he looked like a frozen corpse. The only things that kept Valis’s hopes alive were the shallow, frosted breaths that wheezed out of his chest at even intervals.
“I think I got all the bone fragments out,” Shyvus said. “I can’t feel anymore.” He wiped his hands on the towel and used an end of it to wipe up the blood from around Tavros’s leg. “Let’s set these bones.”
“What do you need me to do?” Valis asked.
“I need you to…” Valis heard a snap as Shyvus relocated Tavros’s femur. “Keep this bone stabilized while I relocate his shin.”
“Why don’t I heal the femur so it stays stable?”
“Then do that.”
Valis didn’t argue about his sharp tone. Instead, he reached over and drew upon his magic as he placed his right hand down on Tavros’s frigid, naked thigh. He had it healed enough to support the stress of relocating the lower leg in moments.
“Go ahead. I’ll keep healing this while you work.”
“Right.”
While Valis healed, he tried to ignore the grinding and snaps as Shyvus worked on Tavros’s lower leg. The sound was sickening and each one made Valis’s heart ache.
“Done,” Shyvus said. “Get him healed.”
Again, Valis didn’t argue. He just went to work. Shyvus’s barked orders were only because he was worried, and Valis understood that worry. He pushed magic into his hand and laid it on Tavros’s leg, and with hope in his chest, watched as Tavros’s bones finished realigning and his skin knitted back together.
When there was nothing else to see, Valis closed his eyes and kept on healing, making sure the bones were strong enough to hold Tavros’s weight, making sure his blood vessels knitted back together. He needed everything to be in working order.