by Clark Bolton
Buo gave it some thought before saying, “Years, I believe, though it is not a thing we would know.” Buo gestured toward his two fellow travel-monks as he said this. “We are not privileged to bring the dead before Monos.”
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The encampment stretched along the steeply inclined road that ran up into the mountains. This was easy for Ich-Mek to see, as the land had been cleared of trees here. The road they had been following was too close, for his comfort, to the Ju River, and here it intersected with the road to the Jo Pass. The road also continued on along the river, which was where they intended to go.
“Why do men cut trees?” As-Cheen asked as they gazed at the encampment.
It was clear now that the trees were recently cut, and the many men they could see now were likely responsible. Great barge-like objects constructed of wood lined the road leading up to the pass, causing Ich-Mek to wonder if they were going to drag these down to the river.
Ich-Mek wasn’t sure how to answer As-Cheen’s question so just shrugged. “Guess they needed more barges.”
“Barges burn” came As-Cheen’s grumpy remark.
“Not for the river I think, Ich,” Buo suggested as he pointed to the very far end of the road that disappeared into the mountains. “They are taking something up the Jo Pass.”
That something, they learned, was marble – great slabs of it. Not wishing to draw attention to themselves they kept to the main road, but here even a few large sleds of wood were loaded with marble. It was of a pink variety that Ich-Mek hadn’t seen before.
“Why?” he asked the monks as he stopped to look up the road to the pass. “Seems like the river would be an easier route to take.”
“Yes,” Xep replied from the rear of the party, “but long in time. A year, maybe.”
A brief discussion followed with the general consensus being Xep was correct. Hauling the blocks of stone from here up the pass would be substantially faster than floating them down to the Grand Canal then up the Dap River past Imin City. The journey would have to be timed with the spring floods on the Dap.
“I think they should hurry,” Buo chuckled. “Snow up there is not so far away.”
Ich-Mek shook his head in disbelief. “It’s still summer,” he argued.
“You don’t know,” As-Cheen told him as she began walking down the road leading to the pass.
“Where are you going?” Ich-Mek asked incredulously. “That way is the Grand Canal.”
“You don’t know,” she called out again over her shoulder.
The monks nearly fell over with laughter at his expense. Shaking his head, he started following her, and when she neared a group of men working on a sled, he quickly rushed by her to be the first to encounter them. A moment later, he was passed up by Nugh, and given a rather strong smirk by the monk.
“Sorry,” Ich-Mek muttered, knowing the monk took his bodyguard status very seriously. He was thankful Nugh and the others did, else he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have survived the burning of the barge. He just hoped Qing had been able to swim. Fearing the dragon would return, the monks hadn’t allowed him or As-Cheen to search for the man. Ich-Mek found it miraculous they had escaped with all their important possessions, including his spell-book and stash of silver coins.
“Are you taking these up the Jo Pass?” Ich-Mek asked in a polite tone when he came to a group of workmen.
They were lounging alongside one of the sleds, and Ich-Mek guessed there was a hundred or more of such men strung out between here and what he could now see of the road to the pass. “We don’t know,” one of the men replied, and this was confirmed by the nods of others.
They then explained that over the last two moons they had prepared the blocks of marble for transport through the pass, but all in vain. The sleds were too heavy, and so progress was behind schedule; enough so that their masters were considering giving up.
“Where are you masters?” Ich-Mek asked as he walked slowly along the sled.
“High up in the pass, with the first blocks,” one of the men volunteered.
“It blocks the road,” another warned.
Ich-Mek saw that As-Cheen was ahead of him again on the road. Nugh had long ago given up trying to outpace her; she was just too stubborn to accept she shouldn’t be going out in front. Rushing to catch up, he found her ignoring his questioning looks.
“You want to go this way,” she stated dryly.
“Yes, well we shouldn’t,” Ich-Mek replied halfheartedly as he began to get his hopes up.
“Shu-Whet is up there,” she then informed him emotionlessly.
“What?” he stammered as he came to a complete halt.
She just kept walking up the ever steepening road, forcing him to run once again to keep up.
The masters were engineers; this was confirmed by their immaculate robes emblazoned with inscriptions stating such. Ich-Mek found they paid little attention to him, and so when he approached the large slab that was blocking the road, no one cared when he placed his hand on it.
“I could move this,” he declared to a skeptical elf.
Due to the steep ravine they were now in, the stone truly blocked the road completely. He was sure they could scramble over the block if allowed to, but Buo had warned there would be a checkpoint not far beyond. The monk had admitted at this point that he had been through this pass previously. Ich-Mek had thought it odd Buo had not mentioned this before.
Sunset was upon them, so they were happy to join some workmen a short distance back down the road for a meal. The masters kept to themselves in some rather impressive tents that were literally set up on the road due to lack of space.
The next morning, they watched as the sled was moved on wooden rollers a few paces. Teams of horses seemed to be on the pass side of the sled, from what Ich-Mek could see, and these were providing the power. It was slow going, and some very unimpressed masters were making this known.
“They should pay me,” Ich-Mek announced to his friends as they sat and watched the spectacle. “In fact, why don’t they have mages helping them?”
“Expensive,” Buo informed him. “And from which side of the pass would they be hired?”
“Both sides,” he suggested.
“They will not work together,” Buo assured him.
Ich-Mek shook his head skeptically. All mages were trained at Key-Tar-Om School, he assured them, and so would have no difficultly working together, even when from different provinces. The monks literally laughed at his apparent ignorance.
“Too many wars to forget, Ich,” Xep teased. “Powerful families decide what tasks your mages perform.”
Ich-Mek shook his head furiously. “The Emperor would not allow this.”
“The Emperor does not walk this pass” came Buo’s reply.
Ich-Mek sat steaming over the possibility he was wrong, until As-Cheen asked innocently, “Why do men fight?”
“Apparently because the Emperor lets us!” he told her loudly.
Ich-Mek stood up then, and walked the hundred or so paces to where the sled now sat, unmoving. There were several engineers taking careful measurements with brass tools that looked expensive to him. He got frustrated watching and listening to them.
“I will move this, if you will let me!” he told them brashly. “That is, if the Emperor will let me.”
The engineers gave him some annoyed looks until Ich-Mek crossed his arms and defied them to test his boast. They looked about to have him escorted away until he told them emphatically, “I am a powerful mage, and can do this!”
All but one walked away in disbelief. “You are from Key-Tar-Om?” the remaining engineer asked.
Chills of concern ran up Ich-Mek’s spine when he realized this would have been obvious. It wasn’t that far away, and besides that, where else did mages come from? Before he could stop himself from confirming this fact he said, “Yes,” and followed this answer with a bow.
The man looked toward his companions, who had a
ll but abandoned him, then said, “You would be well paid.”
In his zest, Ich-Mek had forgotten about this possibility. “Yes…I expect to be,” he replied.
Most ignored him as he went to work, until his presence threatened to interfere with the next haul attempt. This he reluctantly stepped aside for, figuring the rune-sets he had drawn so far could withstand the treatment. He smiled to himself when the haul attempt amounted to three or four paces of progress. Sitting back down on his makeshift stool, he went back to work.
An hour later the next haul attempt sent screaming men running to avoid the block that slid easily a hundred paces. He then had to contend with a crowd of engineers looking over his shoulder. Eventually he was cordially invited into the tent of the master engineer of the project.
Ich-Mek became greatly embarrassed when it became clear to this master that he had no idea how to negotiate a contract. Fortunately, Buo came to his rescue, and together they managed to convince the man they needed a little time to come up with a precise fee for this massive effort.
“They will soon ask for documents,” Buo warned him as he handed a tiny scroll to Ich-Mek. The monks had set up a small camp and, along with As-Cheen, were eager for him to come sit with them.
“What’s this?” he asked as he unfurrowed it.
It was clear now it was some kind of authorization document, but it wasn’t his or any of friend’s name which was listed on it. Ich-Mek then nodded his head in understanding. One of the monks had gotten ahold of it somehow.
“You want to make a copy of this,” he exclaimed.
“Be quiet,” As-Cheen scolded. “Shu-Whet will hear you.”
He gave her an apologetic look as Buo told him, “It will take some time for us to make a passable copy, Ich. We need paper and ink.”
“And a place to work,” Xep chimed in.
Ich-Mek looked from one to the other, then back again. “Just paper,” he said to them with a tight smile.
Nugh was sent to beg for some, since Ich-Mek had lost all his when the barge had burned. The monk returned shortly from the direction of the master’s tent with several pieces in hand. Hiding his actions behind the scant bushes along the ravine, Ich-Mek cast a copy-documentation spell after studying his spell-book for a time. It was the very spell he had used to show Tang what the administrators had recorded about him in their ledgers.
A write cantrip took things from there, and soon he had an authorization document allowing one gentleman traveler with four servants through Jo Pass. With confidence and help form Buo, he got what he considered a more-than-fair fee for his services from the master engineer.
__________________________
Ich-Mek was too tired to cast yet another cleanse cantrip on his robes, so now he was covered in pink marble dust. Four days straight now he had spent nearly every waking hour inscribing rune-sets on marble. Still they were not to the top of the pass. There were forty-seven blocks of marble to contend with, and that was because three had cracked and so been discarded.
As-Cheen would come and go as he worked first on one sled, then walked sometimes far down the road to the next. Eventually he would have to walk back up to the lead sled to start his task anew. The rune-sets didn’t last long in these muddy conditions, and it was quickly called to his attention whenever a sled refused to budge.
He hardly noticed sleet when it came, figuring this place was akin to Key-Tar-Om, where rare summer sleet storms were not unheard of. When the sleet turned to large puffy snowflakes he began to wonder what this would do to their efforts. Looking around for his expert companion on the subject, he found he once again couldn’t locate As-Cheen.
Walking to the lead sled he looked up the road from it to the next checkpoint. These seemed more frequent now that they were nearing the top of the pass. Like others it was composed of a constructed stone arch that spanned the entire ravine. A hollow interior was home to three or four guards, who had access to slits in which were set long iron poles. These poles were extended from one side of the arch to the other, forming an effective barrier. It helped that they were cruelly spiked throughout their length.
He could see now that As-Cheen was standing on the far side of the checkpoint, peeking through the barrier at him. A guard was doing his best to ignore this undocumented person at his gate.
“Shu-Whet,” she called out to him as he approached. She then looked up toward the sky at the thickly falling snow.
He stopped to reach down and scoop up a bit of snow with his hand to examine the truth of this. It appeared normal to him, but he couldn’t be sure without casting some detection cantrips. For now, he was content to take her word for it. Clearly, this amount of snow was unprecedented for the time of year.
Ich-Mek turned to look at the large team of horses behind him and the men that worked them. “Will he come with so many men around?”
“No,” she told him.
“The snow will work to separate us from them,” Nugh warned as he came to stand beside Ich-Mek. “Tonight he could approach unseen.”
Ich-Mek shook his head. “I will make sure he can’t.”
They set up the small tent they had been provided with away from others, but not so far they couldn’t call for aid, they hoped. Warning no one was a big decision Ich-Mek had to live with now. The information would have given him away at some point, the monks had convinced him. Telling of an approaching snow-master from some mountain called the Cold-Mother wasn’t going to remain a secret long.
“The tent will be swallowed soon,” As-Cheen warned.
Ich-Mek could see the snow was a quarter of the way up the side already, and didn’t have to wait long before Nugh began stamping a path anew around the tent. It was a constant fight as the snow seemed to fall faster and faster. He shrugged and went back to fiddling with the wards he had set up around the inside.
Tang had taught him a little trick with detection wards which was going to turn out to be useful, he hoped. Using a piece of the target one wished to ward against, in this case elf-hair, one could build a simple ward on the end of a stick that swiveled when the target approached. Tang used to do this to detect girls, he suspected, before the cave below Key-Tar-Om had become inaccessible to them.
“Try to stay where you should,” he scolded her as she scooted by to exit the tent.
“Not here,” she replied as she slipped out, sending all of his six wards swirling to then stop and point in her direction.
He grudgingly reset them after she left, then went back to reviewing spells under the glow from a glow cantrip. His main plan was to cast the very missile spell that had maimed Shu-Whet previously. This time he hoped death would come quickly; he was sure Shu-Whet would not hesitate to kill one of his friends.
Still he had originally argued against a killing attitude toward the elf. The monks had simply shaken their heads and indicated they would not seek to capture the elf. As-Cheen had agreed with the monks, which had taken him completely by surprise. “I have warned him,” she informed them all, “and he has no honor.”
As-Cheen had seriously injured the elf named Nom-Whet, and he may have died from these injures, but Ich-Mek suspected the snow-master had stepped in to finish the job. It had greatly saddened her to be involved. But apparently Shu-Whet had crossed a line Nom-Whet had not.
When Nugh joined him in the tent he was glad for the company. The other two monks were in hiding, he knew; he just hoped this plan worked. Ich-Mek felt he need only give them some warning of the snow-master’s approach.
Time passed with only occasional movements of the wards. Nugh would occasionally verify this was due to As-Cheen by peeking out of the tent. Eventually, Nugh suggested he end all of his glow spells. This he did, save for minute glows he gave to the tips of the wards.
The silence of the falling snow became almost oppressive after a time. Finally, a twitch of the wards sent chills through him. Nugh noticed it immediately also, but seemed calm as ever. With heart pounding, Ich-Mek watched the wards jingle
and pivot slightly until he was sure he had his target.
“How do the men fair?” he said softly to Nugh.
The monk nodded his understanding that the warning phrase had been delivered. “The forward ones suffer the most, I think,” Nugh replied softly as well.
Ich-Mek knew this part of the signal would convey the direction they had identified from which Shu-Whet approached. He suddenly started to get very nervous as he watched his wards start to pivot differently. This, they knew, meant their target was closing.
He wanted very much now to refresh the protection spells upon himself, but had been forbidden by the monks to do any casting until the attack started. His growing anxiety was now causing him to imagine things, he suspected. The wards twitched more and more…or did they?
THWUCK!
The sound startled Ich-Mek severely, and he prayed quickly to the gods that it was Xep’s spear striking the snow-master as anticipated. Nugh lost not a moment in rushing out of the tent to assist. Struggling to get out after the monk, Ich-Mek was surprised again by the amount of snow he had to scamper over. Nugh was already a vague shadow in the distance by the time he did.
“It’s him!” Ich-Mek warned loudly when he saw the glowing spear that he had enchanted for Xep protruding from a great icy shield that the snow-master was wielding.
The spear hadn’t fully pierced the shield, he could see, and now other weapons were bouncing off the shield at a furious pace. Xep had launched several daggers after the spear, and was now making use of a small bow. Meanwhile, Nugh was attacking with his staff from Shu-Whet’s left.
Suddenly the snow erupted all around them and Ich-Mek was blindsided by a cloud of snow that engulfed him for a moment. He could feel his protection wards kick in, and expected now to see a surprised attacker but instead saw only piles of snow. Neither Nugh nor Xep had the protections he had, and they were now struggling under great mounds of moving snow.
Shu-Whet immediately turned his attention toward Ich-Mek, but before he could attack, As-Cheen came out of nowhere armed with a spear. She took the brunt of the snow-master’s attack, which was the cold beam the elf had used in the past. Ich-Mek knew she had taken on this frontal attack for this reason.