by Tom Hansen
She needed to get on the south side of them. She needed—
No. I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to see her.
Ynya sighed.
She needed to go back. Two sisters were inaccessible, but one would be just to the south.
“Synol.”
Even saying her sister’s name dredged up years of bad memories. The constant fighting, the endless bickering. Best friends in childhood eventually turning into mortal enemies the last few years.
Ever since I Bloomed.
Ynya had celebrated when Synol finally left, the family no longer fought as much as they did when she was around.
She had one choice; to return back to Marsfjord and proceed south. She had to find her older sister who lived in her new town with her new husband.
Ynya slept most of the day, since movement on the plains in the sunlight was too risky.
When night fell, she ran like the wind, veering far north until the terrain changed. She jogged along the start of the Razorclaws where the smaller hills and rocky terrain hid her movements and were far enough from the road that single soldiers wouldn’t ever see her.
She traveled all night long, finding herself back in Marsfjord before the sun came up.
She was famished and dehydrated. Hours of running, combined with her usual hot metabolism, drained her of energy. By the time she got back to the tomb that was her town, her stomach pained, her legs ached, and she had developed a massive headache from the lack of food.
A quick survey told her the soldiers hadn’t come this far west. She’d been smart telling them she was from Lyraville, and it was fortuitous she’d been caught on the eastern side of their position. They had no reason to doubt she was trying to get back to her hometown, or at least hover close to it in hopes the soldiers left.
She cooked and ate five fish, then dug into the unburned portion of the town larder for grain and fats. There was some wilted spinach she fried up with pig fat for a tasty snack.
Before leaving, she stopped by her house once more to check on her parents.
“I don’t know how well she’s going to accept me, Mama. I don’t know if she’ll turn me away, but I promise I will not stop, I will not quit until all my sisters are safe.”
She watched her parents in their eternal slumber for a while, then reverently walked up to them and removed the obsidian necklace from her mother’s neck, and the obsidian ring from her father’s frozen finger.
They wouldn’t be needing them anymore, and she wanted something to remember them by. It also might come in handy to show Synol to convince her something had happened to their parents.
Ynya had never seen their parents without these marriage trinkets, and they looked like strangers to her without them.
They look like strangers because they are dead and frozen.
Neither of them had much to call their own, other than two boats, fishing tools and those pieces of jewelry.
Ynya clutched the two tight in her fist. Then she donned both the necklace and ring, having to put the ring on her thumb so it wouldn’t fall off. She said goodbye once again to her mother and father.
“I will not return without her, I promise.”
Chapter Nine
The road leading south through Hyndalskyr ended up being patrolled as well.
What has changed so drastically in the world to warrant such a change in this tiny northern berg?
Sixteen years Ynya had lived here, with nothing out of the ordinary happening. Sixteen years of fishing, of brutal winters and mild summers.
Sixteen years of playing with her sisters, of exploring the Razorclaws with Synol whining about going back before sundown. Sixteen years of Ynya pushing her sister to lighten up.
Now it had all changed in three short days. Three days of fishing, out in the middle of nowhere, far from anyone.
Ynya thought she wanted time alone, and now she had it.
She had too much of it.
Ynya stayed far enough away from the patrols on the road to avoid being seen, while also keeping them close enough to know where each one was.
These were the dumb soldiers, the idiots who clomped through the terrain haphazardly. They were not used to the crunch of the snow, or the bite of the wind. None of them were from around here and their presence only brought up more questions.
Why, after sixteen years of growing up around people who know my every strand of hair, can I not find a single other northerner?
The going south was painfully slow. The endless patrols veered farther away from the road now, probably because they had been notified of her presence.
They were just not as good as Ynya. While she had never been down this road personally, she grew up in this area. She knew nothing else, nothing but the snow and the blinding white.
She was also able to traverse the terrain without the bulky clothes of a northerner. At night, Ynya found better comfort out under the stars by melting through the snow and ice to get to the hard packed earth underneath. Packing herself in insulating snow like anyone else would do, was too warm for her.
While back at Marsfjord, she had donned a white dress, allowing her to blend into the background better. Now, her hair was the only thing to give her away as her milky white skin blended into the snow along with the dress.
But the hair didn’t become a problem as she allowed the snow to pile in it.
Don’t melt the snow and it will do well to hide my locks.
As she made her way, something stood out to Ynya in the otherwise thin snow. A horse-sized pile that didn’t belong there.
Panic welled in her chest, but she forced it down, willing her heart to slow as she assessed the situation. Despite the danger, Ynya felt compelled to check what was under the pile. She needed to know.
Once sure the woman in white was nowhere in sight, Ynya crept through the snow. Her heart pounded in her chest as she poked through the upper layer to a hard, frozen block of ice below.
Frost fell away, betraying the leathers and furs beneath.
It was a human.
Her heart sank as she took in the aged leathery face and wide flushed red nose of a man she knew.
It was Hvarf, and his mule.
It didn’t take her long to uncover enough to find out what had killed him either. An arrow to the heart pierced his back and lodged itself into the ground under him. It was an accurate and deadly hit.
The arrow was finely made, and running her finger along the shaft, Ynya realized she was not dealing with the amateur soldiers here. The black arrow was straighter than anything Ynya had ever seen in her life. The shaft was a dark hardwood, shaved and polished with such care she saw the reflection of the stars in it.
She’d been around expert marksmen before. Synol had been rather adept with a bow, since she never took to the water like Ynya had. Synol’s fletching had to make do with pieces of driftwood, or the scraggly pines dotting the land to fletch her arrows. She’d never had any wood this straight before.
“Hey!” A man’s voice rang out in the distance.
“Shit!” She swore to herself.
Studying an arrow so closely she allowed another one of the stupid patrols to sneak up on her once again.
Something whistled through the air, striking her legs as she stood to run.
Metal bands clapped about her ankles, binding deep into her flesh and wrapping themselves around her ankles twice.
Her forward momentum and tied-together feet threw her into the snow face-first.
She forced immense heat into her ankles, to melt up the caltrops.
She was glad she wore a thin white dress. It would distract the soldier long enough to keep him from seeing the red-hot metal around her ankles.
Come here you bastard.
“Well, well, what do we have here? Oh look at you!”
The man loomed over her, taking in every inch of her. She twisted and struggled, but only ended up flopping over to her back.
His eyes went wide as she did it
, and his jaw fell open for a moment.
She poured more heat into her bindings, and smiled at him. Anything to keep him distracted and looking up.
“I’m lost.”
His slack-jawed expression turned to one of lust and he began to scan down her body once again. The chains were glowing now, and would soon melt, but she needed more time.
“They sent me out here for you.”
His eyebrows raised. “They did, huh? Good taste.”
“Well?” She asked, trying to keep the terror in her voice from breaking her concentration. “You going to undress?”
He undressed much faster than she thought, but it was too late by the time he had his pants off.
Her chains had softened enough to pull apart. As soon as her legs were freed, Ynya flung the molten metal at the man, catching him in the gut. It seared through his skin, burning into his stomach, and lodged in his flesh as his body absorbed the heat of the metal.
Surprisingly, the man didn’t scream. He looked down at the smoke and steam coming out of his bare stomach like he couldn’t quite believe what had just transpired. He fell to his knees as he clutched his stomach and stared up at her with a surprised expression.
She was up and behind him, putting him into to a choke hold. Heat poured off her forearms as she choked him to the point of exhaustion.
Soon, he slumped to the ground, his body limp. The smell of cooked flesh singed her nostrils.
Ynya’s lip quivered as her brain came back into control.
I just killed a man!
But I had to!
Ynya scrambled away backwards. Away from the last member of her village, away from his frozen mule, and away from the soldier who had stumbled across her.
She sat there for a long minute, willing her mind to slow down. Ynya’s heart thundered in her chest as she did everything to avoid looking at the ghastly sight before her.
Her heart eventually calmed to a semi-peaceful rate.
She realized she was right off the road, and visible to patrolling soldiers. Hvarf and his mule wouldn’t raise any suspicions, other than his body now uncovered, but the sentry man would.
Begrudgingly, Ynya grabbed the man and tugged him farther away from the road, dragging him through the snow along with her pack.
She then went back over the area and smoothed out the snow well enough to throw off any casual observer. Ynya couldn’t risk anyone investigating and discovering his body. They would know she went this way, and would most likely discover her plans of heading south.
After dragging him over the hill, Ynya heard another voice over the distance. It was barely audible over the wind, but it came from the road.
“Oi, Grof, where you go? Time for shift change!”
Chapter Ten
“Grof? Where you–oi, there you are! You deaf, man?”
Ynya stood at the top of the small rise, fully dressed in the dead man’s bulky skins. She faced away from the man coming up from behind her. Directly beneath her, just past the peak in the hill, was the man she’d stolen the clothes from, the man she’d gutted with his own red-hot chains.
Apparently, his name was Grof, and it was a good thing he was skinny like her or his clothes wouldn’t have fit.
Ynya felt sick to her stomach. She still hadn’t fully gotten over the fact that she’d just killed a man with her magic.
To make things worse, she’d stolen his clothes and they smelled awful.
The man behind her chuckled. “Eh? You taking a whiz there? You better put your pecker away before it freezes off, ya know!”
Whiz? Oh!
She finally got what he was talking about. She raised her hand behind her to indicate he was correct.
“Well hurry up, we’re freezing our asses off out here.”
“Oi! You find him?” Another voice wafted in from behind.
“Tell him to stop pissing in the snow and come in for a pint. He’s buying the first round for making us all wait this long!” This was from a new voice.
Ynya groaned inwardly.
Now there were three guards. If it had been one, she would be able to take him, at least that’s what she’d hoped by donning the first guard’s clothes. But with two more at the road, if she killed the one, at least one would run back and tell the others.
The soldiers would know where Ynya was, and she couldn’t have that.
Bundled up in these clothes, she was practically invisible. Her only exposed skin was through a narrow hole in her hood, and even her eyes were so surrounded by bushy fur she doubted anyone would notice.
Now, she just needed to play along.
Ynya didn’t know enough about male anatomy to convince them she was peeing in the snow, but she bounced up and down and shook her leg like she’d seen some of the men do off the side of the boat.
“Well throw me out into the cold, he’s finally done. Next time don’t drink so much before patrol, mate.”
Soon, Ynya had a couple manly arms over her shoulders and the four of them made their way back down the road.
Luckily, she never had to say a word because her three compatriots never seemed to stop talking.
“So, Capt says there is a girl out there, you hear? Supposed to be wearing naught but a shift in the snow, so I says to him, why don’t you look twenty feet away from where you lost her? That’s as far as she got.”
This got an uproarious laugh from the others. Ynya tried to laugh, but got slapped on the back so hard and so unexpectedly she almost stumbled to the ground.
Her anger flared, preparing to retaliate from the attack, but the laughing continued. She reminded herself that men interacted different with each other than women.
Do I need to insult them to be one of them?
She didn’t even know any insults that would hurt anyone’s feelings. What about her voice?
Ynya shrugged it off. Better to remain silent while these morons prattle on about nothing at all.
And they say women are the chatty ones.
The biggest issue was all the heat she generated while angry. Walking the couple miles back to the encampment didn’t help. Ynya was beginning to overheat, and she needed to take her hood off to let the pent-up energy escape.
Only she couldn’t give away her identity.
Why am I coming into their camp? This might be the stupidest decision I’ve made up to this point.
The camp wasn’t huge, but a dozen tents were laid out in a circle around a larger tent in the center, most likely a mess tent. One of the surrounding tents in the back was larger than the others.
A guard stopped the four as they came into the camp and asked them to give status updates. The three men before Ynya gave theirs; nothing, nothing, and a whole lot of nothing.
Then the soldier looked at her.
Oh no! She would have to talk. Ynya readied her gruffest sounding voice, when one of her companions elbowed her hard in her chest.
Ow! Her temper flared once again.
“This one’s been doing nothing but pissing in the wind. Yellow snow and all.”
The guard asking the questions paused, looked up, and narrowed his eyes at Ynya. “That boring?”
She nodded, trying to keep her rage from showing. Her breast stung from the blow, and tears of pain filled her eyes. As much as she wanted to burn her ‘friend’ right where he stood, she was grateful his manly antics negated her need to talk.
After the guard let them go, the four came to the big tent.
The man who had elbowed Ynya in her chest slapped her on her back once again. “I told you, first rounds on old Grof here, right?”
She grunted, and fumbled around on her belt for a coin purse she’d felt when putting on the clothes.
Ynya weighed it in her hand, then tossed it in the air. “On me!” She said in the gruffest voice she could.
The money pouch distracted the men so much that they didn’t notice how she spoke. One of them grabbed it and turned to head into the tent. As he did, heat from the tent blas
ted out, mixing with the cold.
It’s so hot inside!
Panic closed Ynya’s throat in a powerful grip. She was already overheating from the furs that heading inside would put her over the edge.
A quick glance around told her none of the soldiers wore any of their leathers.
There was no way Ynya was going to be able to take her jacket off in there, and there was no way she was going to be able to keep it on with how hot she was getting.
Already Ynya’s vision swam and she wasn’t feeling too steady on her feet, which up till now helped sell the whole tired guardsman routine.
She’d gotten herself in over her head. She should have run, should have killed the second guard. Should never have been discovered over the body of a dead man and his mule to begin with.
Her mind wanted to spiral with worry, but she reined in her frazzled nerves.
Take it one step at a time.
She had to get to the edge of camp and take off her hat, at least for a minute or two. Then she could escape or come back or steal something. But she needed to put some distance between her and these men first.
Ynya turned, grunting something about needing to pee again.
A large form appeared in front of her. His massive chest bore battle leathers with no furs. He grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her back a foot.
“Grof. Captain wants to see you.”
Chapter Eleven
Ynya froze. The captain what? He did say Grof and not Ynya, right?
“Oi, we just got back off our shift and the Captain wants to take our man away so soon?” Her friends had noticed the order and pushed pastsheher to encircle the burly guard. “Can’t a man enjoy a pint first?”
Hairs on her sweat-heavy head stood up. She didn’t want a fight. But maybe if they start brawling, she could slip away.
“Yeah!” She shouted, forgetting to lower her voice.
“And she don’t pay us no overtime for being out here in the cold freezing our balls off!”
“And don’t forget the chores we have to do to keep this place going!”