by K. J. Hargan
The morning was bright and the sky was clear, except for a bank of dark clouds far to the east, a thin line of blackness on the horizon.
The lake was placid and calm, except for the two water beasts patiently stalking the humans fleeing up the shore.
Halldora looked back. Apghilis’ two assassins weren’t fit or particularly impressive. She had heard how his army abandoned him for Arnwylf’s leadership. These two were probably not soldiers, and simply the nearest cutthroats he could hire.
Both of Apghilis’ killers were just past their middle ages. Both had thinning hair. Both were very unwashed, as though they had never had a bath in their lives. Both were thin and looked like they had never eaten a proper meal. One was taller, and he kept shouting at the other, shorter one as though he were in command. Apghilis, much larger, and better trained, flogged both his killers unmercifully with a short flail.
Halldora could hear King Healfdene begin to wheeze. The King of Reia had to be in his sixties. He was still very fit for a man of his age. He had been a warrior all his life, so it was not unexpected that he would still be in good health.
Halldora had been training with her daughter. Like Frea, Halldora made a personal vow to never be at the mercy of men and their weapons ever again.
Halldora hitched up her long, red and gold dress to make it easier for her to run.
But it kept falling down and tripping her. So she paused just long enough to rip a good portion of her dress so that it fell just across her thighs.
Healfdene stopped to see what she was doing.
“Go! Go!” Halldora said and pushed the king on down the shore.
Halldora looked over at the unnatural creatures swimming in the lake.
“What are they called?” Halldora asked Healfdene after she caught up to him.
“Vyreeoten,” Healfdene puffed. “I never thought they were true, just tales folk tell on a cold winter’s evening by the side of the fire.”
Halldora looked back at Apghilis and his killers. They would have to face them soon. If they could just find a place where they could move inland, away from the lake, Halldora felt they could possibly beat Apghilis and his minions.
What are the water beasts waiting for, Halldora wondered. They’re waiting for the best chance to strike, she thought. Do they know something about the terrain ahead?
As the morning faded, the storm in the east, a towering black bank of clouds, loomed closer, and the day turned dull.
Halldora turned her head and took a good look at the beasts.
They swam in an undulating way, their long, serpentine bodies coiling through the water. Their heads skimmed the surface, then bobbed down sometimes. The tops of their heads looked remarkably like the head of a horse, only twice the size. Halldora estimated, with their length, they probably weighed the same as ten men. Their eyes were huge and dark, and when they turned to look over at the humans on the shore, Halldora could see a crest, folded down, ringing their elongated heads. There were no other ridges or spines on their slick, disgusting, oily bodies. The smaller beast was a teal blue, with green stripes, and the larger one was a sickly yellow with white stripes.
Out on the lake, a huge, translucent blue iceberg blocked their path. Good, Halldora thought, they’ll have to swim around it. Maybe we can get ahead of them.
But to her horror, the creatures extended long, sinewy arms and climbed up on the ice. Their vile bodies squirmed across the snow and ice of the floating iceberg. They dropped into the water with a sickening plop, and kept up their even paced vigil, weaving through the frigid waters of Lake Hapaun.
“What are those things?” Halldora asked Healfdene in terrified exasperation.
But the old king just shook his weary head as he did his best to keep up with Halldora.
They had been running all morning and into the afternoon. The black mountains of Kipleth stood on their right, the dark storm clouds wreathing them.
“I can go no further,” Healfdene wheezed.
“We have no choice,” Halldora said pointing. Ahead lay an outcropping of rock that blocked the shoreline with a sheer cliff. The scrub pines were thicker than ever on their right, and to their left, the water was jammed with beached mountains of ice that stood up against the shoreline cliff.
“Here we fight,” Healfdene said, catching his breath. “Keep one eye on the water beasts.” King Healfdene drew his sword.
Halldora drew the sword she always carried when she traveled. It was no ceremonial sword. Since the invasion of the garond army, it was wise for every human to carry arms.
Apghilis, true to his cowardly nature, stood back and let his grimy murderers do his fighting for him.
“If you agree to marry me, and make me King of the Northern Kingdom of Man,” Apghilis puffed, “I will spare you.”
“Never,” Halldora said from gritted teeth.
“Very well,” Apghilis said in his fatness. “What are you waiting for?” He clouted the Taller Killer on the back of the head.
The two thin men moved cautiously forward.
Halldora saw out on the lake, the two vyreeoten stopped and swam in circles, watching.
“We should fight those creatures together,” Healfdene said in an attempt to reason with the killers.
“We’ll let them pick your bones,” the Taller Killer said with an evil smile.
“After we’ve had a few bites,” the Shorter Killer chortled.
The Tall One thrust at Halldora, assuming she would be the easiest prey. Halldora swiftly deflected the cut and swirled a nasty slash along the Tall One’s upper arm. He jumped back in surprise.
“Maybe you should fight the old man,” the Short One taunted. “Since you can’t fight the girl.”
The Tall One was about to retort, but stopped and pointed, open mouthed out to the lake. The water beasts were swimming towards the shore.
The parties inched away from each other, but intently watched the vyreeoten.
“What are you doing?” Apghilis bellowed to his killers. “Get them!”
The Short One held out a shaky finger, pointing at the creatures.
“Heeeeallllfdeeeeene,” the larger yellow vyreeoten lisped in a buzzing voice.
“How the devil-” Healfdene breathed.
Halldora could see how their heads did resemble a horse on top. But their mouths were more like an insect’s, with sharp, vicious, fang-like mandibles, and rows of disgusting, wiggling mouth parts, resembling little insect arms.
“Heeeealllllfdeeeeene,” the Yellow One buzzed again.
“What- What do you want?” Healfdene bravely stammered.
“Yooou briiiing chiiiild of liiiiight,” the yellow vyreeoten said in its weird tongue.
“What does it mean ‘child of light’”? Healfdene asked Halldora.
“I think it means the elf,” Halldora said. “In older days, they were known as the People of the Light.”
“Do you mean the elf? What do you want with her?” Healfdene demanded.
“Weeeeee spaaaare yoooou,” the yellow vyreeoten dribbled oozing saliva.
“Go back to the hell you came from,” Healfdene snarled.
The blue vyreeoten immediately charged the humans on the shore. The water thrown up in its wake was enormous. Halldora had underestimated the size of the water beasts. They were even larger than she thought, about the weight and size of three horses.
The blue monster snapped at the Shorter Killer, who swung his sword at the vyreeoten. The sword bounced off the creature’s reptilian hide, it didn’t cut or hurt it at all. The blue beast clamped down on the Short Killer’s arm and dragged him into the water with a scream shortened by his drowning gurgles. The water beast’s long arms gripped the killer, holding him under. The water boiled red with blood as the vyreeoten ate the human.
“I Klaaaauuug,” the yellow vyreeoten hissed, as the blue beast feasted. “Doooo I saaaay.”
“I told you where you can go, Klaaug,” Healfdene said.
The blue vyr
eeoten exploded out of the water and landed with a sickening thud on the Taller Killer. The beast’s sharp mandibles worked into the human’s body. The Tall One uselessly stabbed at the monster with his sword, but once again the metal had no effect on the beast. The metal sword seemed to lightly spark as it deflected off the monster. The Taller Killer didn’t even get a chance to scream as the vyreeoten worked its snout clean through the abdomen, snuffling in the blood and organs.
Apghilis began backing up in horror, then sprinted to the shrub pines. He crashed through the thick brush to make his escape.
“Best to run,” Halldora said to the king.
As they ran towards the cliff face, an opening in the massive, stranded iceberg could be seen. However, the pass through the ice was right on the water.
Halldora looked back. The vyreeoten had finished their gristly meal and turned to jet through the water. The wake they threw up was astounding, a high plume of foam.
Halldora and Healfdene climbed up on the rock outcropping and slipped their way along the edge. Large icebergs jammed up against the rock, but water of the lake had melted passages through the ice at its base.
The Queen of the Northern Kingdom of Man and the old King of the Green Hills of Reia slopped through the mud and ice water, into the dark passage.
Halldora heard a grunt, and looked back to see the blue vyreeoten wedged in the opening of the ice. It writhed and struggled to force its massive body into the opening.
“Our swords can’t hurt these things,” Healfdene huffed as he made his way through the passage. The late afternoon sun filtered though the ice and shaded the whole world blue. The tunnel was a tight squeeze, and the melted ice, ribbed and dirtied by the washing of the lake, created an unsettling place for safety.
“Then we must find some other way to kill them,” Halldora said, as she found her way along the low, slippery rock ledge.
The sound of the beast behind them grunting and struggling ceased. Halldora looked back and couldn’t see the trapped vyreeoten.
“There is a legend,” Healfdene puffed, “of a hero who fought and killed one of these ...things. But I never thought these creatures were ever real.”
“How did he do it?” Halldora asked as they made their way to the opening on the other side.
“He made a sword-” Healfdene got out, but jumped back as Klaaug snapped at him.
“Very well!” Healfdene bellowed in anger. “I now believe. Let us see how much of the legend is true!”
Both vyreeoten crowded the entrance to the water worn tunnel at the base of the iceberg. The two competing vyreeoten began to shatter the ice at the mouth of the tunnel with their greedy contention, their massive, disgusting heads jostling to be in front.
Healfdene turned and hacked at the ice just to his left, until a large chunk came off. The old king quickly worked the ice until he had a handy piece that resembled a crude sword made of ice.
“Yaaah!” Healfdene cried as he slashed at the blue vyreeoten with his ice sword. Dark purple blood spurted from the beasts face, and it roared a deafening squeal which made both Healfdene and Halldora recoil.
Halldora quickly set to carving her own ice sword.
Healfdene cut at Klaaug, and hacked away a good portion of its snout. Klaaug screamed a sickening squeal.
The blue vyreeoten lunged at Healfdene, and the old king plunged his ice sword right into its mouth.
Healfdene bellowed a war cry and twisted his ice sword.
The blue beast violently shuddered, then thrashed with thundering squeals. It rolled over onto its back and plopped dead, oozing indigo.
Healfdene pulled his arm free of the slaughtered creature.
“Nooooooooo,” Klaaug loudly buzzed. Then Klaaug withdrew, dragging its mate from the tunnel entrance.
“I think they’ve had enough,” Healfdene said with a smile.
Then Klaaug burst through the tunnel’s mouth and pierced the king with its mandibles.
Halldora hacked at the beast, driving it back. But it was too late for Healfdene. Halldora held him as he smiled at her, blood trickling from his mouth.
“Now I can see my son again,” Healfdene said with a fading smile, and died.
Halldora waited for the vyreeoten to return, but all was silent.
She carefully crept to the edge of the tunnel and peered out.
Dark purple blood scummed the waters of Lake Hapaun.
Halldora inched out a little more, gripping her ice sword.
Out on the lake, she saw Klaaug swimming away to the north, dragging its slain mate, which floated belly up.
Then Halldora gasped in terror.
She could just make out the ice fields of Eann on the northern edge of Lake Hapaun. The ice field was a colossal amalgamation of glaciers that calved icebergs into the lake. All along the ice field were numerous vyreeoten. From this distance, to Halldora, their massive bodies looked like black, wriggling worms that slimed across the ice, and plunged into the frigid waters of the lake. They were moving in all directions, but seemed to be mostly moving to the west.
Halldora rushed back to the body of King Healfdene. She pulled and tugged at the corpse, until she got it out of the tunnel of ice and rock.
She quickly cut two mall, straight pines, and lashed the king’s body on top. Then, as fast as she could, with the sun now low, she dragged Healfdene south, back along the shore of Lake Hapaun.
All the rest of the day Halldora kept an eye on the woods for Apghilis, and another eye on the lake. Her ice sword melted away to nothing.
As the sun was setting, Halldora, exhausted and dirtied, reached the boat that she and Healfdene had used to cross the lake.
She pushed her dead friend into the boat, and then worked the boat out onto the water.
Halldora carefully, quietly paddled back to Gillalliath as the sun set over the gentle, rolling green hills of Reia in the west. In the east, the billowing black clouds of the winter storm towered behind her. The water turned a darkening purple as the sun disappeared. He lake was quiet and silent, holding vile secrets it reluctantly kept to itself. Every splash of her paddle set Halldora’s teeth on edge. Any noise or ripple of the water might attract the vyreeoten lurking deep in the watery depths.
At the dock, Halldora was met by astonished and heart broken reians. Halldora quickly told her story, and the cast off of Gillalliath prepared their king for his last rites.
Healfdene’s funeral boat was set alight, and pushed out onto the respectfully placid waters of the lake.
“The son left in the morning, and the father in the evening,” Halldora reverently said. “May they meet among the stars of heaven.”
Halldora asked after Hetwing, Myanne and Hanarry, but they still had not returned in their quest to retrieve the warriors of Reia from Eoric. Halldora thought of the girl who was a Son of Yenolah, and the laughing, golden haired boy who was a Child of Lanis, and she hoped they would try to get along as they helped Hetwing.
Halldora gathered the infirm, the elderly and the orphaned in the Great Hall of the King. The ragged remains of the city gathered together around the red haired queen.
“Many of you know me,” Halldora said, standing on a table as the humble of Reia gathered around her.
“I am the queen of your hated enemy, the Northern Kingdom of Man. But did we not fight together against the garonds at the Battle of the Eastern Meadowlands? Did we not die together, and prevail together?”
The hall was silent and respectful.
“Then listen to me with all your will,” Halldora continued, “we must flee this place at once. We are not safe here. There are hundreds of vyreeoten to the north and they will soon be upon you. Come with me. Trust me. Let me give my life for you. I will lead you to the safety and shelter of New Rogar Li.”
“But should we not flee to the west and find Eoric?” An elderly man asked.
“Trust me as though I was your king,” Halldora said. “The vyreeoten I saw on the Ice Fields of Eann were moving to th
e west. God help Hetwing and Eoric, but if we go to them, we would never reach the safety of the warriors of Reia in time. We would surely go to our deaths.”
The great hall was silent.
“What are we waiting for?” A feisty, elderly lady said. “Let us follow the Queen of Man.”
Chapter Twelve
The Voice in the Dark
The snow howled through the streets of New Rogar Li, and piled on the street corners like mounds of down pillows. The Archer limped along next to the elf. The poison had been drawn from the wound, so he was in no serious danger. The elf knew there would be no arguing with him. He would follow her into the jaws of death.
The streets were empty, every wealdkin snuggled into their warm houses for the night. The furious wind whipped the snow sideways, cutting at any exposed skin. This part of Wealdland had never experienced a snow hurricane, and the furious wind that shook every wall was frightening.
The Archer and the elf pushed on through the blinding snow to the soldiers left in the remnant of Arnwylf’s camp at the north of the city. They would have had to blindly search for the camp, but all they had to do was follow the howling of the wolves.
As they came upon the camp, the elf stopped for a moment and turned to the Archer.
“There’s something wrong.” The elf said. “The wolves are not howling as they usually do. They are warning... warning...” The elf couldn’t find the words to describe what she was hearing. Then, the Archer gripped the elf and pointed.
“Look!” The Archer said, pointing south. The elf turned to see Conniker, the white wolf bounding towards them, coming from the direction of the library. But rather than stopping, the wolf ran past them, into the dark wall of trees of the Weald.
“Conniker!” The elf called. “Lead us to Arnwylf!” The Archer could hear Conniker bark as he sprang past them and into the darkness of the ancient forest.
“He heard us,” the elf cried. “He knows Arnwylf is in trouble. Hurry!”
The Archer limped after the elf as best he could. As they left the camp, the Archer noticed that the wolves didn’t follow, but instead stood gazing into the dark of the Weald with manes abristle.