Plague of Ice dad-7

by T. H. Lain

  Lidda ran her hand through her supplies, making sure she still had the potion of flight shed picked up last month in the great city of Vasaria. It was an extravagant purchase, one she hadn't told Regdar about. She bought it for personal use, but now that a dragon was involved she decided to keep it closer at hand, in her vest pocket.

  "I've never seen this spell before," said Regdar, inspecting his stark white shoulder closely.

  "I call it snow shield," the druid answered. "My parents developed it. Helps you disappear when a predator's approaching. Dragons have exceptionally good eyes. We're lucky it hadn't seen us already. Or, for that matter," she looked back behind them, "our tracks." Their footprints were only partially concealed by the blowing snow.

  "A nice spell, but Sonja, why did you cast it?" complained Hennet. "Now the dragon's flying away and who knows when it might come back? With luck, I might still be able to get its attention. If we bring it close, we can finish it here and now. I could use this fireball wand, or you could use that new lightning trick of yours. I've been dying to see that."

  "I can only do that in a storm," Sonja said, "and I wouldn't have anyway. If we tried to fight the creature now, the dragon would fly right over us, swoop down, and freeze us with its breath before we could touch it. Have you felt a white dragon's breath? It can freeze your flesh solid, cocoon you in ice. Even a young one can do that. This isn't the right time. When we face the dragon, we need to do it on our terms, where we'll stand a chance."

  "But the dragon was flying in the direction of Atupal," Hennet protested. "If it hadn't turned, our inaction might have cost lives."

  "If it hadn't turned, any action would have cost our lives, and then the dragon could have flown on to Atupal anyway," the druid shot back. "Would that be better?"

  If they were a romantic couple, Regdar reflected, they weren't yet in synch.

  As if on cue, the spell expired, and Hennet and Sonja's spat abated with it. The cold march continued across the snowfields.

  Near midday, Hennet and Regdar moved into some brush to set a snare, hoping to catch a few rabbits for their next meal. Lidda and Sonja rested against a rock that sheltered them from the wind and listened to the two men arguing in the distance.

  "Isn't this place," Lidda asked, "this kind of landscape, like where you come from?"

  "In some ways," Sonja said with a touch of sadness. "If I were to let that part of me come to the fore, I would feel quite at home here. But this is an abomination. It's unnatural, and that makes it very different from my home."

  "Why did you leave there?" Lidda probed.

  Sonja smiled at the halfling, a smile so benevolent that even Lidda felt its attraction. It was no wonder men responded so favorably to Sonja. There was bottomless warmth to her smile, Lidda thought. Such strange beauty-her cheeks registered as much warmth as an ice sculpture. Lidda wondered if Sonja might have some elf blood in her. She knew that in druid communities, race played little part in relationships. Elf heritage would go a long way toward explaining her otherworldly looks and the quiet, unconscious sensuality in her every movement. In that way, Sonja was much like Regdar's beloved Naull, who had been taken from him only a few months ago.

  Lidda had been carefully observing Regdar's reactions to Sonja. She knew that in his heart he was loyal to Naull and that he believed she still lived somewhere in captivity, but Sonja must seem very appealing to him in his loss. Her most arresting quality was her serenity. Despite the strong, measured passion she displayed, she was an island of peace in all of this chaos. For men of violence, and for Regdar especially, she must seem like shelter from the storm.

  "I was fifteen years old before I saw a human being other than my parents," Sonja explained. "They were members of a druidic circle in one of the great southern forests, but they decided to put the druidic community behind them to pursue unity with nature and their own interests. They resolved to go to the place farthest removed from man that they could find, just the way the great druids of history did. So they departed for the far north." A faraway smile crossed Sonja's face as she thought of her birthplace.

  "I was born in the shadow of the Endless Glacier, along the ever-white valleys and ridges that surround it, where they made their home. There were wars to fight there too, against the evil frost giants who rule the tundra like tyrants, bringing white dragons and verbeegs and winter wolves and a dozen other races under their control. Mostly my parents just tended to the animals and plants and to the ice itself. In time their skills became atuned to this landscape. They raised me as a druid and taught me those same skills."

  "What happened?" asked Lidda. "Why did you leave?"

  "I left when my parents died. It was nothing heroic. The tundra takes its toll even on ice druids. They and I still had relatives in the southlands, farmers and even city-dwellers who never understood their decision to leave. Before they died they made me promise to travel south and visit those relatives and former friends, to explain to them what they had done with their lives and why. Looking back on it now, I think they sent me south because they didn't want me to live a solitary life in the bitter cold just because they did. They wanted me to see some of the world so that I could choose my own home."

  "What choice will you make?"

  "I met my parents' family," Sonja went on. "They were warm to me, but they could not understand me. No one can."

  "Not even Hennet?" asked Lidda. Sonja shook her head, smiling sadly.

  "So then," Lidda said, "you intend to return?"

  "I intend to," Sonja replied. "It has been a long time, though. Too long, I feel." She gestured around her. "All of this is very familiar to me and welcoming. I miss it greatly. I didn't realize until now how much I missed it, or how my abilities have lain fallow in the south. When I was twelve, I would never have been surprised by orcs concealed under mounds of snow."

  "Where did you meet Hennet?" Lidda continued. "What's his story?"

  "I fear that Hennet's story changes every time he tells it," Sonja laughed, and the sound was like sun sparkling on icicles. "In the southlands I discovered something my parents never explained to me. I met men my age and found that they could… satisfy certain needs."

  "Happens to the best of us," Lidda said with a bawdy wink. "I don't suppose there was much of that type of action up in the arctic, was there?"

  "I should say not," the druid responded with a smile. "I met him at a ducal ball. Hennet is handsome, dashing. He's a little…"

  "Enamored of himself?" offered Lidda.

  "He's not entirely as charming as he thinks," Sonja said, "yet that only makes him even more charming, in a sweet way. Someone close to him recently left him, and he was looking for comfort. I was looking for a traveling companion. It was a good fit, convenient for us both. I don't expect too much of him, and he doesn't expect too much of me."

  "That simple, is it?" asked Lidda warily.

  "Not quite," Sonja admitted, looking the halfling squarely in the eye. "You and Regdar are born adventurers, and so is Hennet. You're well suited to this rootless life. If my time with Hennet has taught me one thing, it is that I am not. I've learned that staying in one place is very important to me."

  Before Lidda could blurt out another question, Hennet and Regdar returned empty-handed. Lidda was filled with questions, but the conversation would have to wait for later. The wind was increasing slowly but steadily, and stinging ice crystals occasionally whipped around their sheltering rock to bite the halfling's cheek. She pulled her fur-lined hood tighter around her neck.

  "Sonja," Lidda asked, "can it get much colder than this?" Sonja gazed off at the horizon, barely visible through a stormy, white haze blanketing the formerly blue sky.

  "It can," she said, "and it will."

  3

  As the day went on, the sky grew whiter and whiter and the wind more chill. Hennet watched the horizon vanish and the last patch of blue disappear from the sky and wondered for an awful moment if they'd ever see sun or sky again. Then the snow c
ame, gently at first, ethereal snowflakes that Lidda liked to catch on her tongue, followed by a steady fall of fat flakes that impeded visibility. Regdar and Hennet hunted for food on the march, hoping to stretch their rations while hunting was still possible, but they could not manage any catches. Sonja solved this. She stood still and closed her eyes, and in time a furry, brown rabbit hopped out of a gully toward her. Lidda cooed over it as it poked its head up and wiggled its pink nose. Sonja took it in her hands and calmly snapped its neck.

  "Here is our meal," she said.

  The others looked at her with open-mouthed shock. "Why did you do that?" asked Regdar.

  "Weren't you hungry?" she asked. No one said anything more about it.

  Some time later, the party came across tracks for the first time. These were not human tracks but something larger. Lidda inspected them closely.

  "Gnolls?" she asked.

  Sonja nodded gravely.

  "We knew humanoid tribes lived in this area," said Regdar. "We can't expect them to be huddling in a cave somewhere. Gnolls are strong and don't care much about the cold."

  "Their life has been disrupted," added Sonja. "They'll be on the ready, too, and rightly so."

  "Great!" Hennet rubbed his brow. "This snow stirs up the gnolls, and they'll blame the first outsiders they see."

  "And these footprints are fresh," Lidda said, watching the snowflakes fall. "Old tracks wouldn't last long under these conditions."

  The travelers immediately silenced themselves and surveyed their surroundings. Dimly in the snow they could make out two large, brown-black forms moving quickly. One moved silently toward them, a battle-axe in its hands, but the other was running away. There could be only one reason such a sturdy and warlike humanoid would flee from a fight.

  "It'll warn their tribe!" yelled Regdar. He strung his longbow with stiff fingers as Lidda pulled out her crossbow and cocked it. Both fired at nearly the same time, but aiming was difficult through the snowy haze. Hennet readied a magic missile. A tiny bolt of magic blasted from his palm, bathing the plain in a sickly, green glow for a few thrilling moments. It flew unerringly to its target and struck the gnoll in the leg, toppling it to the ground. By then, the other one was lost in the snow and haze.

  "That's all we need," Hennet cursed as they rushed to the fallen gnoll. "Now we can expect a gnoll tribe down on our heads."

  The stricken gnoll wasn't dead. It lay sprawled out on the ice with its axe inches beyond its desperately groping fingers. Regdar shoved the weapon away with his toe. The gnoll spat at them and swore in its native language until Regdar kicked its wounded leg. That brought a yip to its canine jaws, but the next time it spoke, it used uncertain Common.

  "It was yoouuu!" The gnoll gasped. "You destroyed our homes, killed our young!"

  "Your home," said Sonja. Even for this beast the concern in her voice was genuine. "Where was your home?"

  "The wood! Our forest is no more. This plague of ice has destroyed it. We flee, but your ice is too fast. We die! You kill us!"

  "We didn't destroy your homes," said Regdar. "We're here to stop this ice."

  "Lies! Lies!" the gnoll howled. It lunged for Lidda's throat, no doubt deciding the halfling would be the easiest to kill before the larger humans could slay it. It was wrong, as Lidda proved with a quick jab of her sword. The creature fell back into the snow and lay still.

  A deep-toned, throaty horn sounded in the distance. Sonja readied her club.

  "They won't listen to reason," the druid said. "I recommend you put away your bows. Under these conditions, they will be on us before we know it. We have an advantage, though. There's still a lot of glare coming off the snow. Gnolls dislike bright light. It hurts their eyes and impairs their fighting ability."

  Little more than a minute passed before the gnolls came into view. Their tall, brown forms were silhouetted against the whiteness of the background. Eight or nine of them emerged from the swirling snow. Their hyenalike heads towered far above the humans. They fanned out quickly so that their foes were surrounded inside a widely spaced ring. They were armed with a hodgepodge of weapons, and some of them wore mismatched pieces of armor. One, swinging a flail, wore a coal-black breastplate emblazoned with the emblem of the god Erythnul. The breastplate was human-sized and too small for a gnoll; undoubtedly it was a trophy. This gnoll was slightly smaller than the others and kept behind them as the ring closed in on the party.

  As the gnolls drew nearly within striking range, Lidda rushed forward, bobbing between their legs to confound their attempts to attack her with their axes. Wherever she passed, she slashed at the gnolls' shins and knees. Her hit-and-run attacks so angered her victims that three of them broke ranks and chased after her. By doing so, they exposed their flanks. The advantage was momentary, but Regdar, an experienced warrior who'd fought alongside Lidda before, was ready for it. The instant the first gnoll turned, the armored human lunged forward. The gleaming tip of his greatsword was just as deadly as the edge, and a straight thrust through the creature's ribs slew it on its feet. A second gnoll was sliced down before the others realized what was happening. Yips and howls filled the air as the monsters reacted and warned each other of the fast-moving danger. The encircling gnolls leaped back several steps, widening the gaps between them, and ignored Lidda. Their attention was now riveted on the fur-wrapped man with the steaming, red-stained sword.

  Hennet held back for a moment, both to ready his spells and because he wasn't sure what the big man would do next.

  Sonja slipped farther from Hennet. She knew that gnolls preferred to fight enemies who were separated from help, and she hoped that her move might lure a gnoll to closer range. It did. She tried to keep herself looking small and held her weapon uncertainly, like a frightened animal. Sensing an easy target, the gnoll rushed her, straight into the trap Sonja had laid for it. The ground beneath it was slick with magical ice, and the gnoll's feet slid out from underneath it. When it tumbled onto its back, its armor snapped under its weight with a sharp crack. Sonja jumped forward onto the momentarily stunned gnoll. She smashed her cudgel onto its skull with surprising force and instantly prepared to deliver a second blow, but when she pulled back the weapon she saw that the creature was already dead.

  The gnolls were bloodied but not defeated. The survivors circled and regrouped and forced Regdar, Hennet, and Sonja again into the center of a circle, smaller than the first. Lidda bobbed around the outside, sneaking in with her short sword to nick their flanks and keep them distracted, then skittering away whenever one turned to attack her. The smaller gnoll with the breastplate still held back from the action, and Lidda suddenly realized why. The emblem of Erythnul on its armor was not just for show.

  "It's casting!" Lidda yelled. She pulled out her crossbow, desperate to distract the gnoll before it could complete its spell. She was too late, and worse, she was the spell's target. Lidda found herself paralyzed, her limbs locked in place like a statue's. She could breathe and move her eyes but couldn't move or run-or speak. She watched as the gnoll priest closed in on her, its flail waving high above its head. Her mouth was locked open in a silent scream.

  "Protect Lidda!" Hennet shouted. He rushed toward her and launched a magic missile at the gnoll priest. It impacted against the breastplate but seemed to do no real damage. The energy was dissipated by the apparently magical piece of armor. The priest responded by turning to Hennet and mumbling another spell. A new weapon suddenly appeared in its outstretched hand, a morning star with a solid head made of stone.

  The corner of the gnoll priest's snout rose in something like a smile as the morning star flew from its hand toward Hennet and soundly whacked the sorcerer on his shoulder. The blow took Hennet by surprise and knocked him off balance. Then the morning star struck again, moving like a blur. It caught Hennet along his side, knocking him to the snowy ground. As Hennet fumbled for his spear or spells, the magical morning star pummeled him ruthlessly. He rolled onto his back with his short spear in his hands and tried to
defend himself, but the flying weapon was virtually impossible to parry as it swooped from side to side.

  Regdar and Sonja slashed and bullied their way through the other gnolls in their effort to reach Lidda, who was completely at the gnoll priest's mercy. Sonja leaped at the tall monster with her left hand held before her. When it passed before the gnoll's face, it erupted with a brilliant flash of white. The blinded gnoll fell back away from Sonja's flare, dazzled and incapacitated.

  Sonja bashed the flail from the gnoll's hand with her cudgel. Regdar stepped next to her and thrust his greatsword into the creature's chest. The sword struck against Erthynul's breastplate, which wasn't even dented by the full force of Regdar's strength. The breastplate, however, was designed for a human and not a gnoll. Regdar easily redirected the blade to an unprotected spot. The greatsword sliced through the gnoll's hide, and blood gushed down the blade. The gnoll cried out in a fruitless prayer to its god, concluding with a piercing, canine shriek when Regdar twisted the wide blade between its ribs. The gnoll slid off the steel and fell back, the agonized look of the abandoned faithful forever frozen on its hairy face.

  Hennet twisted and slashed with his spear in a desperate attempt to deflect the magical morning star's next assault, when the weapon pulled back and vanished. Breathing a sigh of relief and using his short spear for leverage, he rose onto his feet. Other gnolls still circled uncertainly, and Hennet thrust the spear before him to keep them at a distance.

  Regdar wasn't interested in keeping a distance. With the sorcerer defending himself, the easiest victim for the bloodthirsty gnolls was the paralyzed halfling. The gnolls closed in on Lidda and almost reached her when Regdar assaulted them, jumping straight into their midst.

  Two gnolls died instantly when Regdar clove through them at waist height with a single, powerful swing of his weapon. A third gnoll would have joined them, but it managed to block Regdar's blade with the head of its axe. Gore splattered off Regdar's sword onto the creature. The gnoll, rather than trying to riposte with its ringing axe, let the weapon fall to the ground. It boldly grasped Regdar's blade with its two bare hands. Blood rolled along the sword's length and dripped onto the snow as the gnoll squeezed and pulled. With its great strength, it wrenched the bloody greatsword from Regdar's grasp.