by B A Fleming
“Erh of Bilma. I understand you to be a fair and just woman. Appreciate that my past, and that of Aryz Coun, now firmly sit behind us. We now serve Master Shang, and by his hand, the young prince. We seek no disruption to your town nor your people.”
The party was now clothed in blue cloth tops and tagelmust. They wore brown before, but would now blend
in more with the dominion colors of Imuhagh traders. Native Bubal Hartebeest grazed the side of the road.
The rocky terrain of the Dearthlands was unusable for farming, and the trees that grew in between rocky outcrops had been chopped and burned on a yearly basis, leaving them stunted and bushy. The undulating bushy terrain was punctuated with small gullies and ravines that could run almost a league in any direction. A dead brown grass covered the entire plain.
The men looked at each other.
"Keep to the road," advised Temar. "Strange creatures live within there." Casperi glanced at the grass again, and then shook his reins, hissing at the beast to move on. A thick russet cloud blew across the desert. From one minute to the next there was nothing there, then the men were quickly covering their faces. Seconds later they were engulfed in noxious dust that quickly infiltrated every exposed pore, the dust stinging their eyes as the taste and heavy salt echoed through every breath. Casperi coughed, trying not to vomit.
For hours they bumped along on stony, dirt track as their mounts casually took in the changing weather conditions without adjusting stride. An hour further, blue sky appeared again and they could start to make out the distant Aïr Mountains. Several caravans passed them during the afternoon, laden with Morean goods and a stable of mercenary guards. They had managed to buy some fresh breads, potatoes and apples from one trader, keen to do business with passing travelers.
They set camp on a small plateau surrounded by large boulders. With only a party of three any position would be difficult to defend. At least this way they had a chance of seeing someone coming. Temar cooked dinner over an open fire built with dead saxaul branches as all three sat around discussing what Werta and Guerta had each told them.
Guerta had been more than generous and surprisingly knew of their impending arrival. In addition to the hospitality she had shown, especially to Prince Casperi, she had added provisions and over the meal Temar poured shots of an old traders’ drink called vdka that the
Erh of Bilma had provided. She had hinted on several occasions through the evening that the young prince should share her bed, which, through Aryz Coun, he had politely declined. Temar and Aryz Coun now made fun with him about the situation.
The tribes of the Toubou and Syr Darya had each claimed ownership of the lands east of the great river that flowed south of the City of the Imuhagh at different times.
The Erh of Bilma had brought them together and a cautious alliance with the Queen had kept fighting across the Dearthlands to a minimum for the past twenty years. This had reduced the number of raids across the Dearthlands, although roaming bandits were not uncommon.
Great cities had been built and destroyed in these lands over the past thousand years with war both good and bad for business. At one stage, several hundred years before, the Imuhagh swept over the great plains of the Dearthlands destroying all before them. They left no cities or settlements behind, only massive grave mounds, which even now, still dotted the steppes north from the Bagu Sea.
The fabled city of Amadghor had been the heart of the early empire. When the Herula invaded from the east, and what was to become the eastern realm of Empire of Morea. After fierce early wars, the Imuhagh moved north to where the city is now located. Many golden artefacts are still known to remain in the place they called the golden city of Amadghor.
Casperi dozed on a small wheat sack he had used as a pillow. He felt a soft tugging on his right sleeve through the tarpaulin. He rose and made his way out into the early morning light. Aryz Coun stood next to the camels, watching someone as he whispered to Temar.
“Get your blade ready, but don’t jump out until you hear my call.”
Aryz Coun knew that he had been seen by the oncoming group but he wasn’t so sure that Temar had been, nor Casperi. They both stayed low, swords and daggers prepared, awaiting direction.
Six men rode up towards the camp. They dismounted looking at Aryz Coun, smiling and joking with each other.
“Aryz Coun,” one announced as he walked with his men up a small incline. “We come to take everything that you have. I’ve wanted to kill you for a long time, Khaddams’ bum boy.”
Aryz Coun positioned himself such that Temar and Casperi were still hidden behind boulders, both within five steps of him. As the men approached the leader ran towards him, scimitar drawn. Aryz Coun deftly defended, striking down at the man, who parried and thrust. Ducking under the final thrust to his left, Aryz Coun drove his sword through the mans’ chest. The five others all rushed in to finish him.
Temar jumped up, taking one man by surprise from the left, slicing his arm. Aryz Coun turned as another man swung a wild blow towards his head. He parried and flicked his sword upwards, slicing the attackers ear in one quick movement. The man screamed and stumbled back, giving Casperi enough room to swing as he too now jumped into the attack, ending the scream by slashing through the attackers’ throat. The man dropped before him, blood spraying in every direction as he fell.
Casperi turned to find Aryz Coun trying to pull his sword out of a man who had fallen forward onto it. The impaled man was large and heavy and Casperi quickly helped his companion push the corpse back as the remaining three attackers descended upon them. They ran forward chaotically, two lashing out simultaneously towards Casperi. He stepped to his right with a parry that caught both swords to clash of steel, his blade on the upswing taking his closest attacker across the nose and slicing through his eyes. As the man fell, Casperi quickly swung the sword around him and aimed down at the other attacker who deftly rolled away. Puffing, he stepped back briefly.
Temar was entangled in a battle of strength against his final opponent as blades struck against each other, neither man seeming to give way to the other. He stepped backwards and to his left, opening up the space to his opponent who jumped forward, only to be caught over
balancing, as Temar struck but a halting blow across his back.
He fell towards Casperi, who had less trouble using a simple move of thrust, parry, thrust that he had been trained in for most of his life to finish him off.
Chapter 19
They stood back, examining the pile of bodies of a few Tharkomad soldiers and assortment of villagers strewn across the clearing in front of them. It was a grim scene.
“I don’t believe it was bandits,” said Soze finally.
The others looked at him with a querying look.
“See how they’ve fallen,” he continued. “Almost inline. As if a chain of soldiers stood before them cutting them down in a single row. If it was bandits, the bodies would be strewn everywhere, but this scene is much more ordered.”
They had left the path behind the Ice Gols, who had turned north east towards Tharkomad, as anticipated. This was the first village they had encountered since leaving the Ice Gols trail, and was several hours in almost the opposite direction to the invading forces.
“They are spreading out more than I would have expected,” noted Nathe.
“Seems they seek to leave no stone unturned,” added Gameard.
“Or there is a purpose to this.”
“Look around us,” pointed Veer. “There seems to be a lot of older men here and very few women and children amongst the dead.”
“No, they are in forest,” suggested Curran. Several men looked at him. “I can hear them,” he added.
After almost an hour they had managed to coax several of the women and children from the forest, as the mercenaries set about removing the dead Ice Gols and aligning the fallen villagers respectfully. Dralan went from body to body, performing the same ceremony upon each.
Curran and Nathe ha
d managed to speak with a few of the women, and all had outlined a similar tale. The Tharkomad soldiers had stayed in the village the night before as part of their usual patrol. The Ice Gols attacked as the soldiers helped most of the villagers to form some sort of defense, as the women and children fled. After the kingdom soldiers had been defeated, a large Ice Gol came forth, wearing black clothes and a large black yak cloak.
He offered an ultimatum. Either join his horde and the women and children would be spared, or continue the battle and all of them would killed, and their wives and children would be hunted down.
*****
They saw their prey across the scree. Before Curran had time to react, ten Ice Gols had started running across the acre to meet their foe in combat. Footings were unsure at best as rock slid underfoot, but the creatures continued their scramble across the five hundred feet of terrain until the rocky slope gave way from the number of small rocks, then the boulders started to tumble. The party stood still, watching many of the Ice Gols yelling as they charged across the rocky landscape, only to watch as one by one, each of the ten of them tumbled down the slope into a crevice and onto rocks over a small, but significant cliff.
“Well, they know we are here now,” commented Dwane.
Curran crouched on top of the rise and saw movements through the forest. He paused, back tracking their path in his mind up the valley, and from a distant ridge. It had been half a day and they had easily lost any Ice Gols scouts through the forest trails.
They had set themselves on a path towards Tharkomad and now this group, unseen by the Ice Gols, would need to work themselves around and to the side of the invaders to get in front again. Although seeking to skirt the edges of the main forces, they were definitely stalking the Ice Gols. Unsure of the actual plan they were now in a space of seeking advantage over small parties of their enemy.
“They are so concerned with what may lay ahead that they don’t bother to worry about who is following behind them. I was able to easily track them, assess the benefits of their trail, and the strengths of their party. It was easy enough to do,” reported Curran.
They could see fires in the distance. “That’s over four hours away, if it is Tharkomad,” observed Nathe.
“No, it’s too close boy. Probably that village a few hours out. I don’t think we should go all the way to Tharkomad,
but it may be best to take a better look,” surmised Veer.
“We’d better move along that far ridge there, to be able to move around them unseen,” Curran indicated to Nathe and Veer.
“The forest in that direction is ill thought of,” pointed Veer.
“Well, trouble for us is trouble for them,” suggested Nathe. The three made their way back to a small campsite where the main group had settled in for a rest.
The fresh snow that had settled on the grassy hills half hid the scattering of corpses, obviously dragged off the road sufficiently far that someone passing at a trot or faster would be hard pressed to notice. Curran heard the faint sound of a clash up around the next bend, and could see the thick cloud of smoke rising above the hillside, indicating that buildings were on fire.
Within half an hour the party laid in the forest on a nearby ridge watching as the garrison stationed at the village, and its people, tried to defend themselves from the invaders. Thais crept over the crest of the hill and looked down upon the scene of the battle. Men and creatures from both sides clashing and slicing at each other. Stupid men, she thought.
“This is a difficult moment in your life, where you see a fight and people that resemble yourself being slaughtered, but you know that you cannot join them otherwise you would be one more body lying on that field,” reflected Veer.
“It sickens me,” she whispered.
“No more than it does any of us, dear girl.”
“We cannot change the destiny of others without changing the destiny of ourselves,” Eren mused, squatting on the other side of her. “I told you back in the cave. For these poor souls, death embraces them, and if you were to try to intervene, nothing that any of us could do would prevent your own death as well.”
Arrows were let loose, and after five shafts had struck their target a massive ice giant swayed and collapsed.
“The ice giants are normally hermits that keep to themselves. There must be some strange powers afoot if these are in the service of the Ice Gols,” suggested Eren.
“So, they are not related to the Ice Gols then?” queried the baron’s daughter.
“No, not in the slightest. Tales tell that the Ice Gols invaded this land thousands of years ago, virtually wiping out the ice giants. I’m sure there must be other clans of ice giants somewhere in the mountains, but this whole area above the snowline seems to have been taken over by the Ice Gols. They are more related to the trolls near your kingdom.”
A giant ripped the soldiers apart as easily as a warrior would tear bread. He used a torn sapling in his hand to skewer one and as another sort to chop at his leg, he swung it up quickly, trampling the human under foot. Those thick stumps of legs easily accounted for many lives, although most giants were not as agile as this younger male.
The party sat behind the ridge and considered the situation. They had set up cold camp and double watch was posted as they realized that there was nothing that they could do to help. Thais was disturbed by what she saw. Both Dralan and Nathe attempted to comfort her, but she ignored their efforts.
After less than fifteen minutes of watching she crawled back towards the small encampment and then headed off down the backside of the ridge by herself. She ducked below the low rocks and viewed the opposing forces. Although there were several companies of troops on either side trying to make surprise attacks upon the flanks of their adversaries, she was high enough to still be alone. Screaming women and children could be heard along the valley where Ice Gols troops had overrun part of the village. Those unable or unwilling to leave were being raped, tortured, or killed.
Skirting the main affray, she approached the back of the village from above, winding her way down the hill through dense clumps of winter shredded trees and rocky outcrops. Many of the buildings had been set alight with the smoke billowing high above. She made her way carefully down behind the only remaining wall left standing of a building that had recently been destroyed.
Soldiers had been outflanked by this section of the
invaders, who were more interested in looting than supporting their colleagues still caught up in the main section of the skirmish. Thais scanned the lanes to see if she could find any survivors. A woman and child ran from behind a nearby building into the back of a store that had just been abandoned by five of the invaders. They were chewing on some bread, carrying what they could with them.
She followed the refugees in through the back door. Thais entered silently and was met with a knife at her throat. She grabbed the wrist and bent it back in one quick movement. The woman fell back and the child, a young girl, stood silently next to her, her fingers in her mouth with fear.
“No, I’m here to help,” she stammered from the astonishment of the weapon coming out of the darkness.
Two Ice Gols called out not far from the door, and both women looked at each other and then towards the voices. They called their looting companions to return to the fight, who yelled abuse and disdain back. Two fell where they stood from crossbow fire as the others dropped their loot, hands raised, reluctantly agreeing to follow orders.
The invading Ice Gols army was now strengthened by companies of villagers, seasoned soldiers and various mercenaries that they had recruited on the road in towards Tharkomad. Several of the Ice Gols captains were put in charge of keeping the mercenaries in line, with orders to kill any who disobeyed.
Thais looked out the door, watched, and waited to the count of twenty. She saw the soldiers depart and turned back to the woman.
“If you wish to live, you need to come with me,” she instructed.
“They’re killing everyone. I c
ouldn’t leave my father but they..”
“Be quiet,” whispered Thais.
The woman looked her up and down. This strange woman was athletic but not muscular, and wore a loose tunic and pants with a large hooded cloak.
“Come,” Thais indicated as she wrapped the cloak around all of them and walked out, quickly heading into the woods at the back of the building.
“They won’t see us,” she whispered as they carefully negotiated their way up the hill. Thais mumbled to herself as the spell was one she had practiced in the caves with the Seer.
As they ventured through the forest, two men walked down the hill. She looked up behind them, seeing the naked body of a woman, and the dismembered remains of two children. Suddenly the two women and child appeared ten paces before the men and they stopped in surprise.
Thais fired a blast of orange and both men dropped without a sound, their brains burnt from the inside out so that only a small amount of smoke emanated from their nose, mouth and eyeballs. She regained her composure, wrapping the cloak around all three again as the woman and child shuddered at what they had just witnessed.
Thais took two deep breaths as she passed the bodies of the children, looking forward and stomping into almost a march. The woman’s eyes were wide with terror and Thais tugged her and the girl to move forward, past the scene. They walked in silence for ten minutes until they reached the top of the hill, and found a track into the next valley. The sound of the distant battle raged on but no one from either side had been seen since Thais killed the mercenaries. Dwane watched on and then made his way back up to report to Curran.
“Everyone that remained was slaughtered,” the woman finally said. “We knew the invaders were coming but they came a day before we thought they would. “Reinforcement soldiers arrived not long after,” she added, head down, crying.