by Troy Denning
Morten removed Earl Dobbin's frozen breastplate and started to cast it aside, but Basil took the armor from him and sat down in the water.
"You g-go on ahead," the verbeeg said. "Ill c-catch up later." It had grown so cold inside the cave that even giant-kin were beginning to stutter.
Tavis frowned, remembering that the runecaster had tried to slip away once or twice before. "If you've d-decided to wait this out, this isn't the p-place to do it," the scout advised. "Assuming an ogre pack is following us up the c-crevasse, it won't take them long to realize we didn't continue past the ice cave. They'll come looking for us in h-here."
"Don't w-worry, I'm still on your s-side," Basil replied. The runecaster opened his satchel and withdrew a steel stylus. When he touched it to the breastplate, the tip began to glow, illuminating Basil's homely features. "I j-just thought I'd leave a little p-present in the water."
Earl Dobbin cast an indignant glance toward his breastplate, but when he tried to protest, all that spilled from his frozen lips was an incoherent mumble.
"Don't be too l-long," Tavis said, starting up the stream again. "We won't have t-time to wait for you."
The scout's warning had more to do with their human companions than with his fear of the ogres. Avner's shivering form felt cool and wet against his back, and he knew the boy was starting to freeze to death. Although Tavis had not removed Avner's boots or gloves, he had no doubt that the youth's hands and feet were already white with frostbite. Soon, as the boy's body grew too weak to warm itself, the cold would creep up his limbs into his torso. When its icy fingers gripped his heart, he would give a deep sigh and the life would exit his body on one last steamy breath.
Soon, they came to a fork in the ice cave. From the smaller tunnel, running more or less straight up the glacier, came the muffled gurgle of water flowing over a field of stones. From the other passage came the distant roar of a small waterfall. Tavis pulled Brianna's amulet from inside his cloak and dangled the chain between his fingers. The silver spear spun around aimlessly, the tip unable to settle on a direction.
"You let the verbeeg t-trick you!" Morten accused.
"He didn't trick us," Tavis replied, examining Basil's rune. The scout took the amulet's chain off the bark, then turned the scrap so Morten could see the smeared symbol. The water washed away his magic."
The bodyguard snorted. "Now what?" he demanded. "This is a big g-glacier, and we d-don't have much time."
"It'd take a fairly large nunatak to make a hollow large enough to shelter Brianna," Tavis said. "It will be the biggest stream that leads us to her."
"And if you're wrong?" Morten growled.
"I'm not," Tavis answered.
Brianna's amulet had been pointing more or less in this direction before Basil's rune disappeared, so the scout felt every bit as confident as he sounded. He returned Brianna's amulet to his pocket, then used his dagger to make several large gouges in the icy wall to show Basil which way they had gone. He followed the largest branch of the stream toward the distant roar of the waterfall, occasionally stopping to listen or sniff at the wind. The passage forked several more times, and Tavis always chose the one with the largest stream flowing out of it. Eventually, the din of the waterfall became so loud he could no longer hear Morten sloshing along behind him. The stream grew so shallow that it barely covered the scout's hands, and the tunnel flattened out to the point where he had to crawl on his belly to keep from scraping Avner against the icy ceiling. He began to catch whiffs of a sour, rancid smell on the chilling breeze, and he knew they were near their destination.
Tavis stopped and slipped Basil's wand into his cloak. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw a halo of purple starlight streaming down around the black silhouette of an enormous rock outcropping. They had found their nunatak.
The scout pulled Avner off his back. Although he could not see the youth in the blackness of the tunnel, the boy's skin felt icy to the touch, and his breath came in shallow, weak sighs. They did not have time to wail for Basil before they attacked. If the two humans were to survive, they had to free Brianna-and quickly.
Pulling Avner along with one hand, he crawled through the icy stream on his belly. Morten followed his example, and by the time they stuck their heads out of the ice cave, both firbolgs were shivering from the cold. The scout felt sick to his stomach, and it took a supreme effort of will to wiggle his fingers.
Still, Tavis felt optimistic, for the air was thick with the rancid smell of ogre. An erratic curtain of meltwater was pouring off the ice wall over his head, and in the dim light he could make out the craggy features of a granite scarp less than a body's length away. The scout crawled into the small hollow between the nunatak and the glacier, pulling Avner's chill form behind him. He could feel a frail warmth radiating off the boulder, but he knew it would not be enough to save the humans.
Tavis climbed to his feet and looked up the narrow chasm. To one side loomed a wall of glacier ice, the creamy glimmer of moonlight shining through the silvery sheets of water that cascaded down its face. To the other side rose the shadowy scarp of the nunatak, as sleep and craggy as any precipice in the Ice Spires. Near the top of this gloomy cliff, about fifty feet above the scout's head, sat the loutish figures of two ogre warriors.
The brutes were squatting at the opposite ends of a long ledge, with the yellow glow of an oil lamp brightening the cliff at their backs. In the flickering fight. Tavis could barely make out a fur-swaddled form lying outstretched between the two ogres. From his angle, he could see little more than one flank of the tightly wrapped bundle, but that was enough to make his heart pound harder. The figure looked about seven feet long-just tall enough to be the princess.
Tavis pulled Bear Driller off his shoulder. "Morten, we've found Brianna," he whispered. "Just like I promised." * 9* Rescue
Keeping his eyes fixed on the ogres, Tavis pulled two arrows from his quiver. Before he could nock the first shaft, he felt a huge hand come down on his shoulder. The scout looked back to see Morten shaking his head.
"You m-might hit Brianna." The bodyguard whispered so softly Tavis could barely hear him.
"How else can we k-kill those g-guards before they realize we're here?" the scout asked, his teeth chattering. Although the nunatak hollow was not so cold as the ice caves, neither was it warm enough to counteract the effects of the freezing waters they had been in. "If you have a b-better idea, l-let me know."
Tavis tucked his hand into his armpit to warm it, allowing Morten a chance to study the figures above. The bodyguard seemed more occupied with shivering than thinking and did not suggest any alternatives, When the scout's fingers felt warm enough to control the bowstring, he nocked an arrow.
"No!" Morten hissed. "It's t-too dangerous."
"It's the safest choice we have," Tavis replied. He drew his bowstring back, then glanced at the massive hand on his shoulder. "I won't hit Brianna-unless you throw my aim off."
The bodyguard reluctantly took his hand away, then Tavis released the bowstring. The arrow shot toward the ogre on the far side of Brianna, the rustle of its flight muffled by the sound of the waterfall. The shot took its target under the jaw, slamming the brute's head against the rock wall. His limp body slipped off its perch and fell into the chasm below.
The second ogre gave a startled jerk and leaned forward to see what had happened to his companion. Tavis's arrow caught him in the mouth. The brute's head snapped back, then he slumped down on the ledge. The swaddled figure next to his corpse did not even stir.
"It's a g-good thing your aim is true," Morten said. "If you had hit Brianna, I would have k-killed you."
With that, the bodyguard started to climb.
"Wait," Tavis said. He pointed at the coil of rope hanging from Morten's belt. "Let me have that. I'll t-tie a line around these two in c-case we must leave in a hurry."
Without saying anything, the bodyguard took the rope off his belt and threw it to Tavis.
"Climb up to the gla
cier and keep watch." Tavis suggested. He kneeled at Avner's side to loop the end of the rope around the boy's chest. "I'll wake Brianna."
"So you can c-claim the honor of rescuing her?" Morten scoffed. "I think n-not."
"We haven't rescued her yet," Tavis snapped. There was a grain of truth to the bodyguard's comment, but the scout's main reason for sending Morten to the top was hardly selfish. "It's lime to prove all those threats you make aren't empty. There are bound to be more guards outside, and sooner or later they'll notice what's going on down here. If you're half the fighter you claim, you can hold them off better than I."
"I'm twice the warrior I claim." Morten snarled. He tugged at his battle-axe to be sure it wasn't frozen into bis belt, then resumed his climb. "But try to keep things quiet. There's no use starting a battle until we have to."
Tavis finished tying the two humans into the line, then fastened the other end of the rope to his belt and followed the bodyguard as far as the ledge. After pushing the dead ogre into the chasm below, he pulled himself onto the broad shelf and sat down. The figure beside him was so completely swaddled in furs he could not be certain it was human. The ogres had wrapped the occupant in several layers of bearskin, then tied a greasy rope around the whole thing to keep the bulky cocoon from unraveling. Altogether, the sheaf was close to eight feet long. The only opening was a small breathing hole, but the scout could not see inside it.
Behind this cocoon sat a crude heater that the ogres had made by filling the top of a firbolg's skull with bear fat and lighting it. The resulting flame was orange and rank, exuding an oily smoke that had already stained much of the cliff above it with a grimy black soot.
Tavis started to loosen the rope, then thought better of it. If he startled Brianna, she might cry out in surprise and draw the ogres down upon them. He grabbed the bear-fat lamp and held it over the hole. Inside was a small mouth that appeared to be human-at least judging by what little he could see, which consisted entirely of two cracked, chapped lips. The rest of the face remained completely hidden, rendering it impossible to guess how the princess might react when he untied the bundle.
The scout glanced up and saw that Morten had reached his station. The burly firbolg sat with his back to the cliff and his feet braced against the glacier, holding him in place. His mighty battle-axe rested across his lap, and in his throwing hand he held his dagger. The bodyguard glanced down and waved an impatient hand toward the cocoon.
Tavis slipped his hand into the breathing hole, intending to keep Brianna from crying out in alarm. As she exhaled, he felt the hot, damp air of her breath against his palm, then a set of teeth clamped down on the delicate flesh between the thumb and first finger.
Stifling a scream, the scout tried to pull his hand back, but found it held in place by a pair of powerful jaws. The teeth began to work back and forth, cutting their way toward the delicate tendons of the thumb. To keep from smashing his free fist into the cocoon, Tavis had to remind himself that it was Brianna inside-though he was beginning to have his doubts.
The scout set aside the skull-lamp, then pulled bis dagger, quickly cut the rope, and ripped the skins open. The face inside was gaunt and haggard, with wind-burned cheeks and dry, red skin. Glacier-glare had reduced the eyes to a pair of sunken, bloodshot pits, while the brilliant mountain sun had burned the nose to a deep shade of ruby. Despite its condition, Tavis found the face more beautiful than ever. It belonged to Brianna.
The princess opened her mouth, pulling her teeth away from the scout's bleeding hand. "You!" she croaked.
Tavis smiled. "That's right. I've come to save you."
Brianna considered this for a moment, then began unwrapping herself. She moved slowly, as though greatly fatigued, her fingers trembling as she struggled to grip the filthy bearskins. Nevertheless, when Tavis reached out to help, she angrily pushed his hand away.
"How much is the reward?" she demanded.
"Reward?" Tavis echoed, stunned by the acid tone in the princess's voice. "You think I'm doing this for gold?"
Brianna rolled her eyes. "Please, I know better," she said. "How much is my father paying you for this?"
"Nothing!" Tavis snapped. "The king-"
The scout stopped himself in midsentence, realizing that now was no time to tell the princess about her father's betrayal.
"What about the king?" Brianna demanded. If the haughty tone in her voice was any indication, the princess was recovering fast. "Finish what you were going to say."
Tavis shook his head. "The king didn't offer to pay me anything," he said. The scout pulled Brianna's amulet from his cloak pocket, then pressed it into her hand. "And you can have this back-free of charge."
The princess's mouth fell open. "Where'd you find it?"
"The same place you lost it," he replied curtly.
Tavis turned away and untied the rope from his belt, then sat down on the ledge to pull up Avner and the earl.
"What are you doing?" the princess asked, peering over his shoulder. The bitterness had gone from her voice, but it had not been replaced by any hint that she felt sorry for how she had treated him so far.
"I'm hauling up two people who risked their lives on your behalf," Tavis said.
As the scout fed the rope through his hands, slivers of fiery light began to flicker across the ledge. He glanced back and found Brianna clutching her talisman to her chest, the red glow of her goddess's magic slipping from between her fingers.
"Save some of your healing magic," he said. "These humans are dying of cold and need your help-if it isn't too much trouble for Your Highness."
"Of course not." If the princess noticed the reproach in Tavis's voice, she showed no sign. "Who are they?"
"Avner and Earl Dobbin."
"Really!" Brianna considered this news for a moment, then asked, "And what did my father promise them?"
Tavis did not bother to answer, and before the princess could say anything more an alarmed war cry sounded from above. The scout looked up to see Morten flinging his dagger at something across the glacier.
"Morten?" Brianna gasped. "What's he doing here?"
"He came with us," Tavis explained.
The scout redoubled his efforts to pull his companions up, but raising two humans over such a distance was not an easy task, even for a firbolg.
Brianna sat down beside him, then reached for the rope. "I'll bring them up," she said. "You help Morten."
Tavis did not yield the line. "They're too heavy."
"Don't be ridiculous," the princess said. She grabbed the rope about a foot below Tavis's hands, then began to raise the humans almost as fast as the scout had been doing. "After all, I am a Hartwick."
"So I see," Tavis said, standing. Like almost everyone in Hartsvale, he knew of the supernatural strength of Brianna's father and male ancestors, but this was the first he had heard that the princess shared the gift. "I wonder what other secrets you and the king have been keeping."
Without waiting for a reply, Tavis climbed up to help Morten. By the time he reached the top of the chasm, the bodyguard had already disappeared onto the glacier. From the constant chime of clanging weapons, it sounded as though the firbolg was hard-pressed to defend himself against the ogre pack.
Tavis braced his back against the granite cliff and peered over the lip of the glacier. Directly ahead lay two dead ogres, one with a dagger through his throat and the other missing a head. Morten stood a short distance away, surrounded by the whirling clubs and darting spears of more than a dozen of Goboka's savage warriors.
What the scout saw on the other side of the glacier concerned him more than Morten's situation. The shaman's huge figure was just cresting a ridge of moonlit snow. He was coming, with a large troop of warriors at his back, from the direction of the ice hut. Tavis didn't understand how Goboka had reacted so quickly to his failed plan. The ice hut was on the far side of the glacier, too far away for the shaman to have heard the fight between Morten and the sentries guarding Brianna.
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br /> The scout drew his sword and thrust the tip into the soft snow, using it as a handhold while he pulled himself onto the glacier. A dozen paces away, Morten continued to battle the ogres, spinning first in one direction and then the other, his battle-axe slicing through the air in long graceful arcs. With their primitive weapons, his foes could not penetrate his whirling guard, but neither could the bodyguard assault them. As Morten tried to bring his axe to bear, three of the brutes moved forward to strike at his flanks, forcing him to redirect his efforts into driving them back. The ogres were locked into combat just as tightly as the bodyguard. Two of them lowered their clubs and reached for their poisoned arrows, only to have Morten assail them with a vicious series of cross-strikes.
Once he felt the glacier beneath his feel, Tavis hefted his sword and silently rushed across the snow, announcing his arrival by slicing into an ogre's neck. The target's head flew off and crashed into another warrior, who was so startled that he howled in alarm and dropped his guard. Morten took quick advantage of the brute's surprise, cleaving him down the center with a single axe-blow. The battle turned against the ogre pack then, and the flashing blades of the two firbolgs made quick worn of their enemies. Within moments, more than a dozen of the brutes lay motionless, their lifeblood draining out to form dark stains on the glacier's milky surface.
"You're no idle braggart," Tavis said. He kneeled down to clean his bloody sword in the snow. That was fine axe work."
"You helped," Morten grunted. He looked toward the horde of ogres approaching across the glacier, then said. "I wasn't expecting them so soon."
"Me either," Tavis said. "It'll complicate our escape."
"What of Brianna?" the bodyguard asked. "Can she run?"
"The princess is well enough," Tavis said, using snow to numb the painful bile she had left on his hand. "But her ordeal has certainly taken its toll on her manners."
"I'm sure the king will show enough gratitude for both of us," said Brianna's voice. "But I have no intention of growing maudlin just because I'm free from the ogres. I'm hardly fool enough to believe that you-or Earl Dob bin-saved me out of the goodness of your hearts. And why you brought Avner along, I'll never understand. This is no place for a child!"