"Custodes silvarum dormire non poterimus,
Non dormimus cum lacrimat Throndirus."
"It's a lament," Amroth said, "we will never rest while the woods are threatened."
Harald turned to look at their guide and guardian. He was tall and slender like the rest, lithe in all his motions with a grace he couldn't quite understand. It was as though his feet never truly touched the ground and as he moved it was with all the fluidity and beauty of water. Long golden hair hung thinly from his head and fell far down his back. His eyes shone a furious blue, like ice crystals caught in the sun. Amroth smiled as Harald studied him.
"Where do you come from?" Harald asked.
"From the forest," he replied, "we are the children of the night, the Watchers in the Wood."
"Elves?" Harald asked with wide eyes.
Amroth smiled back, "it is as you say, Harald. Few have the eyes to see us, but we watched you and felt your vision."
"I knew it!" Harald exclaimed and slapped Wulfric on the back, "didn't I tell you they were out there?"
The big man grumbled and muttered something and Amroth looked at him.
"It is good to be distrustful in these times, Wulfric, but don't be the fool who misjudges friends as foes."
"What evil did the other one talk about?" growled Wulfric.
"We do not know," he replied, "the Sidhe have gone wild, Mjolkum is enraged, and a rot has festered deep in the heart of Jotunn and spreads into the Woods."
"Is it Orlog?" Harald asked.
"I do not know this name." Amroth raised his eyebrow.
"The Black Witch," Wulfric said, "the rotten hag that has crawled back from the wastes."
Amroth shook his head, "we know little of the world outside our realm. We have surrendered ourselves to this place, and it is here that we keep our concern."
"It's dangerous times to be ignorant," Wulfric mocked, "if you don't look for the threat coming, then it will be too late by the time it knocks on your door."
Amroth smiled, "our ways have yet to fail us, Wulfric. We must move, the time for talk has passed, if you wish to catch your friends before they leave Jotunn, then we have only this night to do it."
The group made haste and crossed the frozen Whitewash. They never saw the stickmen hanging so close, but passed right by them on their way to the Ice Lake. The fog lifted as they left the forest and with the cold wind blowing off Jotunn, both Harald and Wulfric pulled up their hoods to take away the chill. But Amroth didn't mind. He was comfortable enough in his white silk drapes, and moved so lightly that he was soon ahead of the other two.
The yellow moon lit the way, and Amroth soon picked up the trail.
"Two tracks," he said, "they passed this way only hours earlier. We may yet win this race."
The thought pushed the group on with renewed vigour. Harald kept moving, the march having warmed his body, but he couldn't help but notice the deep huffing of Wulfric behind him. It sounded like the big man was full of phlegm, as he gasped and hacked up mouthfuls of yellow spit.
Harald moved away from Wulfric and caught up with Amroth. He was studying the elf's yew bow, it was as slender and beautiful as the one who held it and Harald marvelled at the craftsmanship.
"Tell me about this girl we chase," Amroth asked as they kept their pace.
"She's beautiful," Harald said through quickened breaths, "and strong. Her name is Isolde."
Amroth smiled, "and that scar across your eye? It is fresh."
Harald ran his finger over the tender wound that was slowly healing over.
"Yes, it's fresh. A man from Ravenscar gave it to me."
"Why did you let him take your eye?" the elf asked.
"I didn't let him," Harald said sharply, "I lost it to save Isolde."
Amroth nodded, "so you like this girl? You will marry her?"
"No," Harald said, "I mean yes. Yes, I like her, but I don't think she will marry me."
"You traded your eye for her life and she won't marry you?"
Wulfric bellowed from behind and the two spun around as one on the spot. Amroth had an arrow notched and his bow raised before Harald even recognised the danger. Somehow Wulfric had fallen behind, Harald's heart hammered as his wide eyes took in the scene. A huge bear had the man in his claws, and threw him down to the ground so hard that Harald felt the crunch.
"Parce mihi deum silvarum," Amroth cried as he let the arrow loose.
Harald was stuck to the spot as the arrow pierced the air and cracked deep into the bear's shoulder. The beast roared, its shaggy brown fur swaying from side to side as it swiped at the arrow's shaft. It snapped it at the base and fell down onto its front legs, it let its razor teeth show as it roared and charged toward them.
Amroth had already moved, a second arrow was in the air and the elf was charging the beast. Harald watched as the arrow found its mark under the bear's neck but the monster didn't stop. It swiped at Amroth with its huge paws and Harald watched the elf dart just out of the killing arc. The bear lunged and hit Amroth with its full weight. The elf went down and the bear lunged again at his prone body.
There was no time to think, Harald whipped his axe from his belt and charged. The bear raised its huge paw to crush Amroth when Harald lunged. He flew through the air with his axe held high, and brought it down with all his might against the back of the beast’s head. The steel blade bit deep into the flesh and glanced off the hard skull. Harald wrenched the axe back and the bear shrugged him off as it stood to its full height. Harald fell back into the snow and the beast roared into the night as it turned on the new threat.
It came crashing down on all fours, and Harald felt the earth shudder beneath him. It swiped out with its razor claws and Harald rolled to escape death. Again he lunged at the bear and swung his axe out catching the beast's paw. It screamed in agony as the deep rouge of blood sprayed out onto the white snow.
A third arrow whistled past Harald's ear and caught the bear in its lower back. It fell forward momentarily and Harald saw Amroth's dazed body trying to notch a fourth arrow from the ground.
The bear swung around and caught Harald hard against his cheek. He fell sideways reeling with the pain, as his head shook back and forth. The bear took the moment and reared itself high on its hind legs. Instinct took over and Harald gripped his axe tight and flew at the beast. With the last of his strength, Harald raised his axe high and brought it down deep into the bear's neck. He felt the blade plough through fur and skin and cut deep into sinewy tendons. Blood pulsed out the wound and the bear gargled a roar.
Harald tore the axe out and hacked at it again and again. The beast stepped back and back as Harald kept his onslaught on until finally, the bear collapsed backwards. Harald stood above its steaming body. A red pool seeped out into the snow below its brown fur, and Harald dropped his axe in shock.
"Harald..." Amroth called with a breathless voice, "check Wulfric!"
CHAPTER VI
Isolde woke screaming in the dead of the night. Sweat poured down her face and had soaked her clothes. She screamed until her throat was hoarse and her body felt as though it had been broken in every joint. Erik sprang up from his sleep with eyes wide open and mouth aghast.
"What is wrong?" he cried and threw his arms around her.
Her eyes were sore and heavy, and she could feel the black veins pulsating up the side of her neck. She put her hand to the wound and began to sob. Erik pulled back the heavy fur jacket and gasped at the way it had spread. The core of the purple bruise had deepened to black. The fat veins visibly throbbed in their swollen state, and snaked their way up under her chin and to the base of her skull.
He peeled back the soaked jacket to see how low the veins had gone. Isolde wept as she saw the veins making their way for her elbow.
"I can't move it," she sobbed, "I can't move my arm."
Erik grimaced and looked her up and down.
"I have friends in Ravenscar," he said with pleading eyes, "if I can get you there, then they will k
now what to do."
"Skaldi will help," she said in exhaustion.
"We have to move, Isolde," Erik said, "I will get you to Ravenscar, but you have to move."
She looked at him with pleading eyes. Sitting up was exhausting and she couldn't imagine travelling all the way to the great capital.
Erik stood up and took her hand. He looked deep into her eyes and she saw tears welling up in the corners of his slate-grey eyes.
"I love you," he said, "I will not let Orlog take you."
With only the yellow glow of the moon to guide him, he hacked down two branches from the pines they camped under and lashed them roughly together in the form of a V.
"It is the best I can do," he explained as he wrapped their blankets around the poles to form a kind of bed.
He helped her over to the edge of the Ice Lake and lay her on top of the bedding. She was so weak she couldn't quite understand what was happening, until her body shunted underneath her and she felt herself being pulled along across the ice.
***
Harald raced to Wulfric's prone body. The great man was groaning on his back with his red forked beard collapsed limply over his shoulders.
"Help me up, boy," he said reaching out with his right arm.
Harald took it and heaved him to his feat as Wulfric let out an agonising cry. His left arm was limp but he flexed his gnarled fingers and shook the life back into it.
"Don't look so terrified," Wulfric smiled, "it's just a sprain."
He lent down and picked up his great axe out of the snow and winced in pain.
"Did you do that?" he said nodding toward the steaming corpse of the bear.
Harald nodded and looked back at the beast. Amroth stood above it ripping out the arrows that hadn't broken.
"He's no boy," the elf said, "he saved us both. You should have seen him."
Wulfric smiled and put his sore hand on Harald's shoulder.
"Aye, I knew he weren't a boy when he lost his eye. Look here Harald," he said holding up his axe, "I want you to have her."
Harald's eyes widened at the gift and he took the weight of the battle-axe in both his hands.
"It's heavy," Wulfric said, "but I know you can swing it."
Harald held the axe up and let the moon light catch the blue steel. It was a double-headed monster designed for war. The cold metal shimmered in the light, and feint lines of intricate knots glimmered down the razor edges toward the wooden shaft.
"It's a fine gift," Amroth said.
Harald looked at Wulfric with a tear in his eye.
"Thank you," he said.
Wulfric laughed, "you earned it and I can't swing it with my arm like this. But give me yours so I won't die out here from giving gifts."
Amroth picked up the trail of Isolde and Erik in the snow, and sped up the pace. Soon they had found the nest they had slept in and the curious tracks of two straight lines.
"They cut across Jotunn," he said.
Harald looked out across the ice and shuddered. It was still a long way to the Thurso River, but he could see plain as day that the tracks had cut grooves into the ice on its north-west journey.
"Then we must follow them," he said.
The white ice slipped under their boots as they kept the best speed they could. Amroth kept beckoning them on, he seemed to grip the lake as easily as if it were earth. The moon had begun to its westward dive and the night became darker.
Harald strained his ears for any sound of Isolde that might carry across the ice, but his heart stopped when he heard the unexpected.
"What is that?" he asked wide eyed to Amroth.
The sound of beating drums or rattling chains was faint but audible and grew louder with every heartbeat.
"Goblins?"Amroth said to Wulfric almost as a question.
The big man laughed, "not in the winter."
The beating drums grew clearer and they quickly realised they were not drums at all, but marching feet and the clinking of iron being carried over the ice. From out of the darkness the mob could be seen, half a hundred green skinned warriors chattering and crying, and waving spears and swords as they hurtled toward their prey.
Closer and closer they got until Harald could see the malice in their eyes. The goblin horde howled and screeched as they ran and slid across the ice.
"Get ready, boys," Wulfric growled as he raised his axe in his one good arm.
Harald's heart thundered in his chest and his vision narrowed. He could see the green skinned fiends with clarity, their rusted iron swords gleaming in the moon light, the chinking of their studded boots as their feet tore up the ice. They snarled their razor teeth and glared with red eyes, but Harald wasn't afraid. He tightened his grip on the mighty battle-axe and roared out a ferocious cry.
Amroth side stepped to his left and let loose arrow after arrow. Goblins cried and dropped as each shot found its mark. Wulfric looked at Harald with a jagged grin and hurled himself forward roaring like a bear.
Time slowed for Harald and he could feel his heart beat. He gritted his teeth, raised his axe and flew into the fray. He hacked his axe in great sweeping arcs and hewed through green skin and rotten iron. It was like scything down the autumn harvest as the bodies fell around him. A rusted blade whipped past his blind eye and he hurled his axe down on a sneering goblin. His blade caught the beast below the ribs and he watched it hiss before it collapsed to the ground.
Wulfric had cut a killing zone around him. He span his axe in every direction, bringing it up one beast's chin before cracking it down on another's skull. Harald was amazed, the man was unstoppable, letting his axe fly as if it were part of his body.
An arrow hissed passed Harald and he span around to find it sticking out the back of a goblins head. The devil was inches from him and he looked up to see Amroth nod in his direction. His mind span and he found himself by Wulfric hacking away at flesh and bone with the great man.
Before they knew it, the last survivors of the greenskins had made a hasty retreat back across the ice. Harald heaved for breath and looked around at the massacre surrounding them. It was a miracle none of them had even been hit, but they had left Jotunn's ice stained with crimson blood and piled with ruined corpses.
"We are losing the night," Amroth cried, "the sun is rising!"
Harald snapped his neck to the great eastern mountains as the first glimmers of day broke their white peaks.
"We have to move," Harald said, "or we'll never catch them!"
***
Isolde could barely breathe when Erik helped her out of the makeshift sled. The morning sun had peaked above the eastern mountains and the rays warmed her frozen skin. Her body burned but she felt so cold, and her feverish mind twisted everything around her.
"Look," Erik said, he pointing out toward the west.
She turned around, and through hazy eyes could see the great river Thurso far below her. They were standing on the edge of Jotunn, where the Ice Lake melted in the summer, and let floods come crashing down to swell the river banks below. But all was frozen and still, and the way down was clear. She nearly fainted at the thought of climbing down the ancient stairs carved into the ice cliff.
She stood between two giant stone statues of ancient lions, and held one to steady herself. They were the guardians of the Lake that watched over the river valley below, and roared when the water flowed between them in the summer.
She reached her hand out to Erik in a desperate plea for help and he rushed to her aid.
"It's alright," he said, helping to steady her, "I will hold you the whole way down.”
She looked back across the ice one last time and could barely make the shadowy figures of three strangers on the horizon. Erik took her by the waist and started her down the first of a thousand icy steps.
By the time he got her to the bottom, she had all but lost consciousness. Isolde's head tilted limply to the side and her lifeless arms clawed out in front of her in hopes of finding something to hold.
He gu
ided her around the edge of the frozen falls, careful to not let her plunge into the deep azure-blue pool that lapped around the rocks. She felt herself be guided, and she felt herself be eased down onto hard wooden planks and felt the sharp shunt and a gentle glide. The sky above her bobbed up and down and she could see Erik with a wooden paddle. Behind him, high up on top of the cliff, she could see the three strangers again. They were yelling, she could hear the voices echo, but she had no strength to make out the words.
"Sleep, Isolde," Erik said calmly with a smile, "the rest of the way is easy."
CHAPTER VII
They watched from atop the cliffs of Jotunn, as the small boat far below drifted off down the river Thurso with the current. It bobbed like a speck in the river, and Harald could just see the motionless figure of Isolde and the traitor Erik who was rowing her away to captivity. I will kill him... Harald thought, as he watched the boat disappear around a bend of the river.
Amroth stood silently next to him, his sharp blue eyes searching far past the hills to somewhere beyond the valley below. Harald turned around and found Wulfric leaning against one of the stone lions.
They were terrible creatures, towering high and proud, and their ever watchful eyes bore down the Thurso toward Ravenscar. They were the guardians of Jotunn, and they roared in the spring melts when the Ice Lake crashed down the cliff and filled the river with fresh water. But now, in the coming of winter, the lions sat in silence and watched.
Wulfric looked up at Harald, "we'll never catch them now."
"Maybe not," Harald replied, "but we can't give up on her."
He turned back and spied the valleys below. He thought the hills looked like the heads of monks, with the white snow sitting like caps atop the drab green of winter grass that poked through the valleys. The river snaked itself between the hills and he thought he could see the wafting of smoke from somewhere far below.
"A village," Amroth said as though he had read Harald's mind.
Ravenscar Page 3