Fimbulwinter (Daniel Black)

by Brown, E. William

  The townspeople who were out and about seemed reasonably prosperous as far as I could tell. At least, their clothes were a lot better than what I’d seen on the peasant refugees, and most of them wore actual shoes instead of just wrapping their feet in rags. But they kept their heads down, cringing nervously out of the way whenever a troop of soldiers passed by, and I noticed that none of them were armed.

  The fear in their eyes made me wish there was something more I could do for them, but it was the refugees who were the worst off. They were everywhere, huddled in clumps wherever they could find a little shelter from the weather. In narrow alleys, under porches, in disused corners of the winding streets. Their ragged clothes and rough blankets were little protection against the cold, and most of them looked like they hadn’t eaten in days.

  My escort ignored them, and they kept their distance. But I wondered how many of them would still be alive in a week.

  Baron Stein’s keep was bustling with activity. Laborers carried an endless stream of barrels and sacks into the keep under the watchful eyes of his soldiers, while work parties came and went constantly. Apparently the Baron meant to keep all the supplies that could possibly fit in his own cellars, where he could keep an eye on them.

  That wouldn’t have bothered me, except that there was no one dispensing food to those refugees.

  I was led across the great hall and up a stairway to the second floor, then along one of the balconies overlooking the hall to an open doorway flanked by a pair of guards. Inside was a meeting room dominated by a large rectangular table, with twenty or so men crowded into it. I recognized Baron Stein, Holger Drakebane, Captain Rain and a couple of the men who’d been clustered around the Baron during my brief audience the day before.

  “-stand at fourteen months’ normal rations for the town and garrison, my lord,” one of the older soldiers was saying. “But we’ve now emptied all the farms within easy reach of the town, and at this rate the roads will be impassible in another week. We might gain another month or two by emptying the villages a bit further out, but we’ve little word on what we’d be facing.”

  “Well, now that our wizard has finally joined us maybe he’ll have a thought or two on that,” the Baron replied sourly. “The war council meets here at dawn every third day, Daniel. Don’t be late again.”

  I blinked in surprise. I’d expected shouting and threats, not an invite to the executive planning meetings. Did Stein not care what I’d done to his cousin? Or was there something more going on here?

  I gathered my wits, and responded. “I’m afraid your invitation only reached me this morning, milord, but I’ll certainly strive to be punctual in the future. I don’t have any detailed intelligence on the disposition of enemy forces, however. There was a pack of Ungols lurking in the next village upriver yesterday, and there seem to be goblins and trolls everywhere.”

  “The giants are working their way down from the north,” Captain Rain put in. “If we send scavenging parties south we should be able to avoid them for a few more days.”

  “That works for now, but what about when they do get here?” The Baron objected. “We need a lot more grain, or we’ll be putting most of those refugees to the sword when they start to riot. How do we get more food?”

  I looked the room over as the men struggled with that one. There was only one empty place at the table, a rickety-looking stool all the way down at the foot where I’d be scrunched against a wall. Petty revenge? Well, letting him make me look unimportant was probably a bad idea, but I couldn’t just claim a better spot at this point. There were messengers and servants standing back against the walls to either side of the table, so I didn’t want to look like one of them either. I needed some subtle way of making myself look different.

  There was a crude map drawn on the wall to the left of the table, so I stepped into the middle of the open space to the right where I could pretend to be looking across the table at it. Then I reached into my cloak, and pulled out a heavy staff made of polished granite that I conjured up on the spot. I set the butt of the heavy implement down on the floor and adopted my best Wise Old Wizard pose as the conversation ground to a halt.

  “Felwolves are edible,” I pointed out as the men eyed me in surprise. “One of them could probably feed the whole town for a day or two, and the giants keep a lot of them around. Every time they attack the town they’ll be giving us more provisions.”

  “Can we even hold the town against them?” One of the men I didn’t know asked nervously. “They’ll be here before that new wall of yours is finished, and the old one won’t keep them out.”

  “Grow some balls, Erland!” The Baron growled. “If some raiding band bothers us we’ll run them off! Holger and I hunted drakes together, I think we can handle a few mangy giants. Hell, even our wizard might join in.”

  I nodded. “Of course. Ballistae should work on them as well, if you have any, and massed arrow fire would be worth a try. If you’re really worried you could start setting stakes in the moat before it fills with snow. If you make them the right size that should work even better on giants than it does human troops.”

  Another man scratched his head in puzzlement. “Why’s that?”

  Was I really going to try to explain the square-cube law to these people? Well, maybe in simple terms.

  “The same reason a cat can jump out of a tree and walk off unhurt, where a horse that fell the same distance would probably break its neck. The bigger a creature is the more anything that uses its own weight as a weapon will hurt it.”

  “It’s not worth the labor,” Stein objected. “But the ballistae are a thought. Nels, have your boys take down the ones by the river gate and move them over to the other side of town. We can shift the others as the new wall gets built, until we’ve got one on every tower in the gap.”

  One of the knights nodded. “Will do, milord. I don’t suppose you can do anything about the weather, sir wizard? All these damned blizzards are slowing the work down a lot.”

  I shook my head. “I’m afraid weather magic isn’t one of my talents. If something critical comes up I can hold a spell over a small area to keep the wind and snow off, but I imagine finishing the wall is more urgent for now.”

  Stein grunted. “Let’s get back on track. Alvar, you’ll shift the scavenging parties south until the next meeting. Erland, finish checking the shops and refugees for food hoards. Holger, how’s your business looking?”

  The High Priest stood.

  “There’s some good news, at least. I’ve received word that the Red Conclave is assembling in Kozalin, and is preparing a grand working to turn back the weather. Also, Prince Casper is visiting the embassies of the fair folk there to propose alliances, and the Queen of the Seelie Court has been receptive to the idea. That’s particularly significant because the fair folk stand outside of prophecy.”

  A murmur went around the room at that, and Holger smiled grimly.

  “Indeed. So don’t give up hope, men. The rise of mortal magic was never predicted in the old sagas, and with this alliance there’s every chance we can break this unnatural winter before the Traitor God’s forces can unveil the path to the Bifrost. We need but hold fast for a few weeks, and then the tables will be turned.”

  Yeah, like it was going to be that easy to stop an alliance of evil gods. But I kept my mouth shut, because it was obvious the men needed something to hope for. It was amazing how much the moon of the room lifted at that simple pronouncement.

  “That’s good to hear,” Baron Stein put in. “Can we expect reinforcements?”

  The priest shook his head. “Not quickly. The Griffon Knights are going to be scouting and lending aid to key points, but I think we’re a bit too far north for them to reach us. The king is urging all fortified settlements to simply hold out for now, and give the wizards time to do their work.”

  “That we can do,” Stein nodded. “My town isn’t going to fall to a bunch of Odin-cursed monsters. Greger, you’ve been at loose ends since you
got into town. I want you to open up the west barracks and recruit yourself an oversized company of militia from the refugees. Make sure you get the young ones, and issue them spears from the war stock.”

  An older knight with a touch of grey at his temples blinked in surprise. “I can do that, milord. But militia won’t be worth much against trolls or giants, even if I mix in my men to stiffen them a bit.”

  “Ah, that’s not the point. It’ll keep them out of mischief, and if the best of the refugees are all in the militia the rest won’t be able to cause so much trouble. When we do get a real attack we can throw them into the worst of it as a distraction, and then we’ll have that many less troublemakers to worry about.”

  Greger nodded in understanding. A younger man leaned in to ask, “Have you made a decision about the camp wench question, milord?”

  “Yes. I’ll allow it, but I want all of you to enforce strict limits. Only one girl per five men, and they can draft refugees but not townsfolk. Sergeants can keep one of their own, and they’re in charge of settling disputes if the men can’t agree on who they want. I suppose we’ll have to let them keep their wenches in the barracks or they’ll freeze to death, but no sweet-talking the men into letting anyone else in. We’re crowded enough as it is.”

  My, what classy people. I tried to keep my expression blank as I listened, but it wasn’t easy. I was seriously tempted to just kill everyone in the room and take over the town.

  But that wouldn’t work. Their men wouldn’t follow me, especially after something like that, and it’s not like I had any idea how to run a medieval town anyway. All I could do at this point was make the place defensible enough that the giants couldn’t just kill them all.

  That, and take a few of the refugees with me when I left this madhouse.

  On the good side, at least the meeting didn’t last much longer. Unlike pretty much every modern manager I’d ever worked with Baron Stein had no hesitation about making decisions, and his men didn’t feel the need to have an extended discussion about every little detail. The whole thing probably didn’t last more than half an hour from the point I walked in the room.

  The Baron gestured for me to stay as his men began clearing out. I suppressed a sigh, and remained standing until the door closed. He spent a moment looking over a list of stores one of the men had left him, and then looked up at me coldly.

  “You’re not staying here.”

  I shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  He nodded. “Next time you have a problem with one of my men, bring it to me.”

  “Fair enough,” I agreed.

  “Then go finish that wall. Time is getting short.”

  I left, a bit relieved that the matter had been laid to rest so easily. I suppose when you live in a place where life is cheap and brutality is commonplace that sort of thing doesn’t seem so bad.

  Or maybe he was planning to kill me after the wall was done. Better make sure he didn’t get the chance.

  I’d intended to intercept Captain Rain after the meeting, but instead found that the High Priest was waiting for me on the balcony.

  “Good morning, Magus Black. May I trouble you for a few moments of your time?”

  I nodded, grateful I’d remembered to quiz Cerise about forms of address last night. “Certainly, your Reverence. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, first I wanted to make sure you received my package?”

  He stated towards the stairs, and I followed. There were servants scurrying about everywhere, but they practically threw themselves out of the way as we passed by.

  “Yes, I did,” I confirmed. “Although if I’m pushing to finish the wall quickly it will probably be a couple of days before I can put it to use.”

  “Hmm. What do you plan to do once the wall is finished?”

  I sighed. “I don’t think the Baron and I are going to get along in the long run. I expect I’ll move on to another settlement. Maybe I’ll see if there’s anything I can do to assist the Red Conclave.”

  He gave me a tight-lipped smile. “Indeed, that very topic has been discussed. I’m sure you guessed that my presentation was… shall we say, presenting the news in the most favorable possible light? There have been weather-workings before, but nothing on this scale.”

  “I did wonder about that,” I agreed.

  “Well, obviously no one expects you to share your secrets. But I sent of a summary of our conversation last night, and this morning I received an inquiry about whether your method could supply power to a circle.”

  I frowned. “That was fast. Well, in theory I probably could. But I haven’t actually tested that kind of application yet, and a mistake could be disastrous. I’d need to spend at least a few days working through the issues with someone who’s willing to play test subject.”

  I also wasn’t eager to trust a bunch of strangers with an unrestricted power tap, especially after the last few days. Considering how much energy is involved in large-scale weather I wasn’t optimistic about them accomplishing anything with it anyway. Nothing I could build was going to have the energy output to warm up an entire country.

  “That’s unfortunate. Still, if you choose to move on to Kozalin I expect you’ll have a friendly reception from the Conclave. Once you’ve taken care of that other issue we discussed I’ll also pass word on that to my superiors, so you’ll have no trouble from the Church.”

  Yeah, and if I didn’t he’d tell everyone Cerise was a witch. Damn it, I hadn’t counted on the priests here having some kind of magical communication system. Now I was going to need a new disguise, or a way to fool him into thinking I’d done a binding.

  Well, one problem at a time.

  “I’ll think about it,” I told him. “I’ll help to the extent I can, but conditions right now don’t make travel easy.”

  He grimaced. “Yes, I suppose you have a point. Well, I’d better let you get to work. But do let me know when you come to a decision.”

  We parted ways at the doors of the keep. He made for the temple, which was located near the wall on the opposite side of town from the river. I started for my tower, but thought better of it and decided to find Captain Rain instead.

  His surviving men turned out to be using a little waterfront tavern as a barracks. The owner of the place had died some days ago in a goblin attack, but the building itself was intact and the main room had more than enough space to quarter the surviving members of the shattered unit.

  Captain Rain was using the living quarters upstairs, while his little group of concubines ran the kitchen with the help of what I suspected were more camp followers. There were a lot more men about than I’d expected, though.

  “We left a few men in Lanrest when we first set out,” Rain explained when I asked about it. “For the first few days we were sending the wounded back to town as well, and there are a few men who thought the camp had been wiped out in that giant attack and made their way back on foot. We’ve got seventeen men who can fight, and another twenty-odd wounded.”

  “Any sign of Rolf and his band of deserters?” I asked.

  “Not a hint. That’s just as well, though. I’d have to hang them, but with our losses the men are in no mood for that.”

  “I suppose not,” I agreed. “So, I take it the Baron still isn’t too happy with you?”

  Considering that the tavern was outside the town wall, odds were they wouldn’t go more than a few days before something snuck in to attack them in the middle of the night. That couldn’t be an accident.

  “We’re on shit duty,” he confirmed. “I asked about moving the men into one of those new towers you’re building, but he said he was reserving the space for his own retainers.”

  “You could always jump ship,” I suggested. “I’m leaving as soon as the wall is done, and I could use some professional soldiers.”

  He shook his head. “I wish I could, but our contract runs for another month. Besides, the Baron wouldn’t allow a body of troops that aren’t under his control to
stay here. If I break the contract he’ll run us out of town before sunset.”

  “If you stay here another month he’s going to get you killed,” I pointed out. “You heard him plotting to thin out the refugees, and those are his own people. The closer you get to the end of your contract the less he’s going to trust you. He’ll send you to scout for giants, or collect food from ruined villages, or whatever it takes to make sure none of you are alive by then.”

  “No Margold company has broken a contract in seventy years,” he said stubbornly. “I’m not going to be the first. If he orders us to do something suicidal then he’s in breach of the contract, and we can pull out. But unless he does we’re stuck.”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry to hear that. I suppose your loyalty speaks well of you, but it’s damned inconvenient for me. Ah, well. Are you still supposed to be providing my escort?”

  “Yes, and I can spot you a couple of guards for your tower too. Just don’t expect us to turn on our employer.”

  “I get the picture. Go ahead and send them over, then. I’ll be starting on the wall in a bit.”

  Rather than walk back to my tower, I swung by the docks and moved the hover-barge. I still didn’t trust the situation, and I wanted the thing close at hand just in case. I reshaped the embankment next to my tower into a dock just big enough to hold it, and resolved to come back and finish the improvements I’d been planning sometime soon. It needed a roof, and some kind of heating system, and manual controls so I didn’t have to steer it myself. Of course, controls would also mean someone could steal it.

  One of the refuge girls peeked curiously over the side of the stairs as I parked the barge. What was her name again? Gudrin, that was it.

  “Good morning, milord,” she said cheerfully, her breath misting in the chill air. “Are we going to be leaving on that thing, then?”

  I almost reminded her I wasn’t a lord. But no, that was a bad habit. It was becoming increasingly clear that if I wanted to be able to protect my people I was going to have to pass myself off as a noble. Better to just refrain from commenting on that topic until I had a chance to come up with a plausible story.