Fimbulwinter (Daniel Black)

by Brown, E. William

  “I’m afraid so,” Beri agreed. “I think we’re more or less safe for now. Oskar’s people have the street barricaded in both directions, and there’s a hundred men here ready to fight. But not many of them have real weapons, and we’ll run out of food in a few days.”

  “One way or another, it won’t be that long. Do you think he’ll help us?”

  “Yes. He’s worried about his family, and no one has much loyalty for the Baron after the coward decided to spend the day hiding in his keep instead of fighting to save the town. If he thinks you can protect his people he’ll fight for you.”

  “Alright, that’s something. I’m starting to feel vaguely human again, so let’s get this bandage off and see how my eyes are.”

  “Right away, milord Daniel,” Tina said eagerly.

  The two of them unwound a length of cloth from around my head, and I blinked at the sudden light. Everything was a bright blur, but that was better than nothing. One of them examined my face closely, while the other looked away.

  “How do I look?”

  “This is neat!” Tina said. “I can see the burns shrinking. You look kind of funny with no hair, though.”

  “It’s pretty bad,” Beri told me. “Most of your skin is still missing. Sorry, it’s just… really disturbing.”

  “I understand. Alright, I need to get myself fixed before I can do anything else. Beri, I’ll need to meet with Oskar and whoever else is in charge around here, say, an hour before sunset? Gronir too it that’s possible, but if you can’t find a way to get word to him we’ll cope. I don’t want anyone to get killed trying to play messenger.”

  “Also, see if you can find someone who knows the layout of the keep. If I’m going to pull off a rescue I need to be able to find the girls before someone thinks to use them as hostages.”

  “Got it,” Beri said. “I’ll just let Oskar think you’re resting until then, so he doesn’t bother you. Do you need to be alone to work your magic?”

  “No, I just need to concentrate. You and Tina can watch if you’re curious, just don’t try to talk to me while I’m working. Although there might not be much to see.”

  Tina settled her arms around me, and rested her cheek against my back. “You can hardly sit up without help, milord. I’ll just stay like this until you’re healed.”

  Beri smiled. “You do that. I’ll go get things organized.”

  Weak as I was, my first priority was fixing myself. My amulet was mindlessly trying to heal everything that was wrong with me at once, and being absurdly inefficient about it. It would eventually get the job done, but I couldn’t afford to spend half a day in bed while it wasted most of its energy repeatedly fixing symptoms instead of the real problems.

  I focused my concentration, and delicately disconnected the healing function from the power tap. A wave of weakness passed through me as I lost the artificial boost to my vitality, but now I could actually use the amulet’s energy output again. So, priorities.

  I replaced my burned-off skin first, and then turned my attention to the considerable damage my internal organs had suffered. It was slow going at first, and I kept having to divert energy to keep my abused body from going into shock and dying.

  It was disturbing to realize how close I’d come. If my amulet had fallen off, or been damaged by the fire, or if they’d piled a bit more wood on that troll, I probably wouldn’t be here. I resolved not to make that mistake again. I couldn’t afford to get myself killed in a vain attempt to save everyone. I had too many people depending on me.

  My weakness ebbed as I worked through the more critical repairs, and soon I began to feel like I’d survive even without additional magic. I was still emaciated, most of my body mass presumably burned away while I was unconscious, and I had far too many fractured bones to do anything but lean into Tina’s warm embrace and be thankful for the pain block. But it was a start.

  I tackled those fractures next, carefully fusing the bones back together one at a time. Another pass, replacing scars with healthy tissue and washing away the poisons flooding my bloodstream. Then I was free to tackle rebuilding my muscles, replaying the same shaping I’d done in the refugee camp just a few days ago.

  That extra durability had probably saved my life. But even a sturdy human was still pretty fragile against the threats I faced, and it almost hadn’t been enough. Could I do better?

  Well, I could make my bones stronger. Not invulnerable, but strong enough that they wouldn’t keep breaking so easily.

  My flesh sorcery held other options as well, but nothing that suited my circumstances. Trying to magically enhance my strength or durability would take days, and was tricky enough I was leery about trying it out for the first time on myself. If I made a mistake there I might not get a chance to fix it.

  Besides, my other sorceries were a lot more suited to direct combat. I’d made a serious mistake with my amulet, but I had time to fix that now. Split the energy feed so half of it went directly to me for spellcasting, and the other half went first to maintaining my shield with only the remainder used for healing. It was more complicated than the original design, but easily doable.

  There, that would give me the power and heavy shielding I’d meant to have, and as long as I wasn’t stupid enough to cripple myself at the start of a big fight the reduction in healing wasn’t likely to ever matter.

  What else could I learn from my last fight?

  I needed a defense against non-physical attacks. Some kind of meta-magical ward or barrier to block curses like those shamans had been throwing at me. Well, that was complicated. Trying to block every possible kind of spell would be a big project, especially if I got into esoteric stuff like sympathetic magic or Avilla’s enchanted food. But a shield against simple projectile spells? That was doable. A moderately complex barrier effect anchored to a ring would work well enough in a fight, although there were several obvious ways around it.

  Of course, the biggest lesson was that I was focusing too much on defense. If I’d been able to hit the goblin army with a decent area-effect attack while I was in flight the whole battle would have gone differently. But I was still relying on my ability to put attack spells together on the fly for all my offensive power, and that took too much concentration. In a real fight I never had time to put together anything fancy.

  So do it in advance.

  Fire was highly effective against most targets, but I didn’t have enough fire sorcery to do anything more complicated than creating heat within a few feet of my hands. Force was lethal at melee ranges, but their lack of inertia meant that thrown force blades had limited penetration. Earth magic was nice for battlefield control, but not so good at doing direct damage. But if I combined all three there were a lot of possibilities.

  Conjuring pebbles was easy. Throwing them was easy. Instant gun, except that the accuracy would be terrible. I wasn’t exactly doing precision machining with my spells, and I wasn’t much of a marksman to start with. Besides, a bullet wouldn’t stop a troll.

  A hot enough bullet might set it on fire, and I could make things very hot indeed. But the collateral damage from using a weapon like that in town would be huge.

  I really needed two different weapons, one for close quarters like inside the keep and another for open-field engagements. Something highly lethal but tightly controlled, and something else that could hit a large area. But I really only had time to build one weapon this afternoon, so I’d have to go with close quarters.

  I was still working on refinements when Beri returned, but the prototype would probably get the job done.

  “What’s that?” she asked curiously, eying the oddly shaped chunk of stone in my hand.

  I smiled grimly. “A very nasty surprise for anyone who gets in my way. How are things going?”

  “We got a message to Hrodir,” she said. “There are some groups on the streets again, trading supplies and the like. One of them was happy enough to carry a message for a bit of silver. Oh, I don’t know if I mentioned? I’ve g
ot Miss Avilla’s coin purse on me, so we’ve a good bit of silver if we need it. Miss Cerise was doing a good business selling those cloaks.”

  “Good, we’ll probably need it. Let’s get this meeting organized, then.”

  We gathered in Oskar’s cellar, which was surprisingly empty since the Baron’s men had confiscated his stores a couple of days ago. It was surprising how many familiar faces there were in the group of desperate men and women. Oskar and his sons, Hrodir, Gronir, even Vasha.

  I blinked in surprise at Captain Rain’s… mistress? Head concubine? I wasn’t even sure what to call the man’s arrangement.

  “How did you end up here?” I asked her.

  “No one who saw you fight the giant believes that you’re really dead, lord wizard,” she answered. “Marcus sent me to try to find you, and make peace.”

  I frowned at her. “Captain Rain isn’t exactly in my good books right now.”

  “Would you have him betray his employer, lord wizard? Could you ever trust a man who was capable of such treachery? The company is under contract with the Baron for another month, and so far he’s upheld his end of the agreement.”

  “But the contract ends if the Baron dies,” she added suggestively.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Does it? Is Captain Rain offering to help with that?”

  She shook her head. “No treachery, lord wizard. But Baron Stein doesn’t trust the company, so he’s assigned us to guard the granary down near the waterfront instead of helping to man the keep. If things work out the way Marcus expects, we’ll be well supplied and ready to accept a new contract.”

  I paused to study her for a moment. She’d been an attractive woman when she was younger, although age was beginning to wear on her now. Her dress was simple but clean, she’d found time to put her hair up in a fairly elaborate arrangement held together by hairpins, and her manner seemed confident at first glance.

  But her dress was the same one she’d worn the day of the giant attack. The hem was short where she’d ripped off a length to try to bandage her man’s wounds, and one sleeve had a hole in it just the size a goblin arrow would make. She shivered slightly in the cold air of the cellar, and that was far warmer than outside.

  I remembered suddenly the way a life of backbreaking labor and limited food prematurely ages people from the Third World. If she looked thirty to my eyes, she couldn’t really be older than… what, twenty-five? Maybe less.

  “Why did Captain Rain send you, instead of one of his men?” I asked.

  “He has to account for his men,” she answered. “But the Baron wouldn’t think to wonder what a camp follower is up to. You didn’t seem the kind to be insulted by speaking with a woman, and… well, even if you blame the company for what happened I thought you probably wouldn’t take it out on me.”

  I sighed. “You’re right about that. No, I understand the Captain’s position. You realize I’m not sure we can hold the town at this point?”

  She nodded. “Should we start collecting wagons, lord wizard?”

  I considered that.

  “No. Too much chance of drawing attention. Tell the Captain I advise him to sit tight and gather supplies. Once the Baron is dealt with we can negotiate a contract, and then take stock of the situation. If we do pull out we’ll use magical transport, like how we got here.”

  She heaved a sigh of relief, and only then did I realize how tense she’d been.

  “Thank you, milord! You have no idea how good it will be to have an employer who knows what he’s about. The company won’t let you down.”

  “It will be good to have some professional backup,” I told her. “Now you’d better get back before it gets dark. I’m not sure what all is in the town right now-”

  “Ungols,” she interrupted. “Maybe the same pack we saw on the way here. They took the river gate and ate their fill, then vanished. Markus thinks they’re just lurking somewhere inside the walls, waiting until they get hungry again.”

  “Yeah, I was afraid of that. Do you have an escort?”

  She nodded. “I hired a couple of laborers. They were planning to go house to house selling pilfered supplies, and they’ve got cudgels.”

  Something about the way she said that sounded odd. “You really think a couple of townsmen with clubs can fight off an ungol?”

  “I think,” she said wearily. “That they’re both loaded down with goods to sell, and I can run much faster than they can.”

  Okay then. Someone has a good instinct for zombie apocalypse rules.

  “Fair enough. Good luck, then. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  She left, and I turned to the rest of the group.

  “Oskar. You and the girls saved my ass out there. Thank you. If we can’t hold the town, there’s a place for you and your family with my group.”

  He nodded gravely. “That’s good to hear, milord. This business with the Baron doesn’t seem like to help with that, but it’s a fight he started. Damned shame he couldn’t wait till the new wall was done.”

  “It is,” I agreed. “I’m afraid the whole town’s going to pay the price. I can’t let this go, but I don’t think his men will follow me once I finish it. I suppose I could try to leave enough of them alive to hold the town, but they haven’t been doing well with that so far.”

  He shook his head. “Wouldn’t ask you to go that far, milord. Me and mine, we’re with you. But I hope you’re not going to ask my little militia to go up against the Baron’s men?”

  “No, a pitched battle isn’t the way to go here. I doubt your men would do well against soldiers even if they’re willing to try, and that would probably get the girls killed. I’ll need to be more subtle than that. So, what do we know?”

  The men exchanged glances.

  “Miss Cerise is being held at the temple,” Gronir said. “There’s a bunch of men at arms guarding the place now, and at least a couple of knights. I snuck down there to see if I could get her out, but they’ve got the place locked up tight.”

  “That’s not good,” I said grimly. “Holger must be trying to force her to swear to this Riven Covenants thing. I hope she’s been holding out.”

  “Covenants, milord?” Hroldir asked.

  I sighed. It was time to come clean.

  “Cerise is a witch,” I told him. “The scary kind that uses black magic to steal power from sacrifices. She’s been sacrificing monsters for power and using it to kill more monsters. The priest here has a way to enslave her with magic, but he has to torture her into submitting to it.”

  There was a stir at that, and some of Oskar’s men looked uncertain. Old Hroldir frowned.

  “That girl won’t break easy, but you’d best hurry.”

  “Ah, milord?” Oskar said hesitantly. “Not to question your judgment, but I’ve seen that girl fight. You do have some kinda leash on her, right? Not… torture, but something?”

  “Oh, he bound them with sex magic,” Tina said brightly. “I’m so jealous, I hope he does me an Beri soon.”

  I facepalmed.

  The sad thing was, the men seemed to buy it. A couple of them nodded seriously, and I saw more than one speculative expression.

  “Tina!” Beri hissed. “Don’t go blabbing when the menfolk are talking.”

  “Ahem. I’ll keep that in mind, Tina. Leaving aside the details, I’m confident Cerise and Avilla are both loyal. But Cerise is a reckless girl, and she’s risking her soul if she pushes her magic too far. So do come to me if you ever have concerns about that, and I’ll take care of it. Now, what about Avilla?”

  “The Baron took her to the keep,” Oskar said. “Poor girl was practically in tears. I asked around, and found a chambermaid who worked there until a few months ago. Boy, go ahead and bring in Daria.”

  The chambermaid wasn’t much to look at. Probably early twenties, with a scraggly mop of brown hair and a face covered with acne scars. Her clothes were as rough as any other commoner I’d seed in this land, but unlike Vasha her dress fell to her calves and sh
e had a cloak on over it. She looked around nervously as one of Oskar’s sons escorted her down the steps, and her eyes went wide when she saw me.

  “The wizard!” She breathed. “But they said you were dead.”

  “I got better,” I said mildly. “You know the layout of the keep, right?”

  “Yes, lord wizard,” she said nervously. “Worked there for six years, until the steward got it in his head I was the one stealing the silverware.”

  “Hmm. What have you been doing since? I don’t imagine anyone else in town would hire you after that.”

  “I, ah… I get by, milord. But what does a great wizard lord want with a nobody like me?”

  So she was the one doing the stealing, and she’d managed to hide enough of her gains to live on. At least for a bit. Well, it wasn’t my business.

  “I need to know where the Baron would keep a woman that he’s kidnapped, and plans to have his way with.”

  She blinked in surprise.

  “He didn’t. Miss Goldenhair of the vast bosoms?”

  “He did,” I said tightly.

  “Hel take the lackwitted son of a poxy goat,” she spat. “Aren’t the monsters enough trouble for him?”

  “Do you have an answer for me?” I asked.

  She hesitated.

  “I do, lord. But… am I going to be cursed or beaten if I ask for payment? I’m not too greedy, but if I’m to betray my lord to you…”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Yes? You want silver? Gold?”

  She shook her head. “Protection, lord wizard. A place in your household. Then it won’t be my lord I’m betraying, will it?”

  I didn’t say anything for a long moment. She licked her lips, and shuffled nervously. But she held her silence.

  “Daria,” I said slowly. “In my land, we consider that there are two kinds of thief. There’s the kind that steals from everyone around her for her own benefit, and there’s the kind who spies and steals for her lord or her clan. The second kind are respected, and the best ones get treated like knights. But the first kind? They’re scum, because no one can ever trust them.”

  “Which kind of thief are you, Daria?”