Wilmurin: Land of Darkness

by H. J. Cronin

  'I am Alyen, wife of the emperor. We have summoned you here to secure our alliance. Soon we will be standing side by side on Wilmurin,' she said. They shook hands and the empress bowed, Lady Lalo returned the courtesy with a curt nod.

  Their plan relied on Johan and his companions succeeding on Jotun.

  9

  The Cold Wood

  The companions sat in the mead hall enjoying their last meal before their journey inland. Chief Folkmar had decided to send his son, Finnvid, his daughter, Jess, and twenty Mjorn warriors to accompany the companions.

  They were to make a treacherous journey through the Cold Wood. Their journey to the mountains would take them three weeks in freezing temperatures; giantlings, giants, and other beasts stood in their path to the Lone Druid.

  For the past week, the companions had stayed with the chief and his family. Johan had taken particularly well to their honourable way of life. Every evening was dedicated to eating and drinking, praising and worshipping the gods. These people treated every day as if it was their last. By day, they farmed and trained.

  The Mjorn gave the companions large fur hides to keep them warm. Ardag and Johan had not shaved for weeks so small beards had grown, an extra layer in this freezing climate, and now they looked as if they were members of the tribe – a lot smaller of course. Larko stood out as the one green creature; even the fur hide could not conceal his distinguishing elf features, but at least the locals had ceased calling him a demon. Bry found it easy to fit in as well – she wasn't a typical woman, she was strong and wilful, an asset admired amongst the Mjorn.

  They learned that the Mjorn had lived on Jotun for an extremely long time, though they kept no record books; the stories and history passed from generation to generation. The gods they worshipped had existed for as long as the Mjorn had been around. It was their custom to welcome and aid visitors as much as they could. However, Johan was extremely surprised that the chief was willing to risk the lives of his own son and daughter to help the outlanders, although, as Johan sadly knew, the events on Wilmurin could well spill over the sea and arrive on Jotun. The thought of the mead hall, where Johan and his friends were drinking, burning to the ground troubled him greatly.

  He was sitting, quietly sipping his tasty deer soup, when Ardag, who sat next to him, nudged him gently. Johan looked at his companion who spoke in a whisper, 'I think it's time we thanked the Mjorn for their hospitality.'

  As Ardag was about to stand, Johan put a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him. He then whispered, 'I will say it.'

  Ardag smiled approvingly at his friend; Johan had once been a quiet young man, and Ardag had watched his confidence and strength grow. Ardag knew that for Johan to speak in front of all these people was a big deal.

  The noise of nobles and citizens talking, drinking, and laughing filled the hall. Johan stood up and called out as loud as he could to the Mjorn, 'Can I have your attention please!'

  The noise gradually died down and now all eyes were on Johan. He swallowed nervously and spoke clearly to his hosts, 'On behalf of my companions I would like thank the people of the Mjorn tribe, for your kindness, hospitality and most of all, your mead.' There was a loud cheer as Johan paused for a moment. 'We have come a long way and to stay in the house of Chief Folkmar has been an honour.'

  Applause erupted and now the chief stood and raised his cup; silence instantly followed. 'It has been our honour to welcome such honourable guests. You are no longer just our guests, you are friends of the Mjorn.'

  'Such we will remain forever,' Johan said bowing his head.

  'Alas!' the chief called out. 'Let us enjoy these last moments before my son and daughter, as well as twenty of our finest warriors, lead the companions through the Cold Wood. May the gods be with them.'

  Everybody now stood, raised their cups and drank to the chief’s words. Johan just about managed to swallow his drink – his nerves about the coming journey nearly got the better of him. Tales of the treacherous Cold Wood had worried him. Tales of ice giants, giantlings, wolves, and other beasts made him fear the unknown woodland somewhat; the Mjorn only ever ventured into the woods when they had to. The majority did well to avoid it.

  The quiet dawn was dark and cold; snow fell silently, casting an eerie silence over the entrance to the Cold Wood. The companions had travelled through the safe, west side of the wood to meet the seer; now they were going to travel through the inhospitable north of the wood.

  The Mjorn led the way. Johan felt an uneasiness similar to the one he’d experienced in the Dark Wood on Wilmurin, but this forest seemed more abandoned than dark. With the pines evenly spaced out, the sun managed to bring light to the forest floor. If the Mjorn hadn't told grave stories of the Cold Wood and it hadn't been this cold, Johan thought it could have been just like any other woodland.

  The crunching of the party’s boots in the snow gave away the only sound that could be heard. Johan followed in the large footsteps of Finnvid, footsteps almost twice the size of his own. Luckily, the treetops prevented the majority of the snow falling to the ground, so the depth only reached Johan's ankles.

  If there were one thing that would cause him turn back and give up his quest, it would be the cold. The farther north they travelled the colder it got, so cold it felt as if somebody had cut your nose off with a ridged blade. Soon Johan lost the feeling in his hands and toes, even with three layers of clothing and fur hides.

  Two days into the journey they had their first setback. Johan focused on what was in front of him; he felt with his feet to find a solid surface and then suddenly heard a crack and felt his feet sink. He looked down and gasped in horror at a face staring up at him. A cold, frozen solid, pale face. His boots had penetrated the dead man's chest and Johan struggled to release his feet. With a bit of effort he managed to release one foot but the momentum sent him stumbling backwards, to land on what felt like two more bodies.

  Johan gasped again; the party hadn't noticed the three bodies, and they quickly assembled around Johan, Ardag helping him up. 'Who are they?' a shaken Johan asked, wiping the snow from his coat.

  Finnvid looked down at the corpses sadly. He spoke softly, 'It's a hunting party – they had been missing for a month.'

  'What killed them?' Bry asked, looking down at the frozen bodies.

  'The cold,' Finnvid said. Ardag wasn't convinced, noticing that the men had no supplies with them, but he said nothing. Finnvid continued, 'Let us carry on, the cold kills those who linger without fire.'

  They pressed on and Ardag heard Jess whisper to Finnvid, 'Giantlings.' Her brother said nothing but gave a nod, neither of them realising that Ardag had overheard.

  They carried on for the rest of the day until sunset, without any more incidents. Every night they heard the haunting noise of howling wolves, so as with previous nights, they slept on hammocks in the trees to avoid any possible attacks. All the members of the party knew they were being followed but remained silent. That night Johan had another sleepless night in the extremely cold, dark wood.

  They continued their cold journey throughout the week and then into the next week. As they delved deeper into the forest food became scarce, the animals got smaller; they had started off on deer, now they were lucky to catch a few birds. Jess's perfect shot with a bow proved invaluable. The party grew hungrier by the day, and they still had a long hike to the mountains, but mules would have slowed them down and fallen prey to the wolves.

  The days were as cold as ever, and a great fog descended onto the Cold Wood. The party decided to march in line with a hand on the shoulder of the person in front. It seemed as if their luck was about to change, however, when they came across a rocky outcrop in the middle of a small glade. Johan found a small gap by one of the rocks, which he decided, with Ardag, to investigate. To their pleasant surprise they discovered the gap was an entrance to a small cavern with enough room to shelter the entire party and more.

  For the first time since they had left the village, the party lit a fire
that quickly heated the entire cavern. Finnvid had said a fire in the Cold Wood would draw unwanted attention, so they had had to rely on their fur hides to provide warmth, which had just about kept them alive. The party all found a space on the rocky ground and tried to relax. The Mjorn rotated watch duty, just in case their fire attracted unwelcome company.

  This was also the first night they had enjoyed cooked food. For the first time in a while, Johan hoped to enjoy a comfortable night’s sleep. He felt exhausted so sleep came quickly; he wasn't the only one, soon the cavern filled with snores and sleep-murmuring.

  Someone vigorously shaking him soon interrupted Johan’s peaceful sleep. He looked up with bleary eyes at Finnvid who leant over him with his finger against his lip. 'Be quiet Johan, we have company,' he whispered.

  Johan sat up, startled, and then looked around to see the Mjorn stirring. His companions were also awake, so he approached Ardag and spoke quietly to him, 'What's going on?'

  'There are others outside,' Ardag replied in a hushed tone.

  Johan looked towards the narrow entrance; somehow these newcomers hadn't noticed the entrance to the cavern. He heard them speaking, in a muffled and gurgling language. He then saw one of them – the creature looked human but was extremely hairy; it was larger than the warriors by a foot at least. It had a large nose and a grumpy looking face, with yellow teeth overhanging its bottom lip. Johan felt afraid for a moment – it sounded as if there were many of these creatures outside.

  Finnvid answered Johan's questioning look, 'They are giantlings, ancient offspring of humans and giants. They have absorbed the evil from both races. They are stupid but powerful.' Finnvid paused for a moment and spoke to the sentry in the Mjorn tongue, and moments later the sentry replied. Finnvid looked back at the companions and continued whispering, 'There are thirty of them and four wolves, luckily they are not with any frost giants. It appears that this is a foraging party, ill-equipped and ill-trained.'

  'They might have supplies,' Jess put in, slightly raising her voice in excitement. Finnvid hushed her instantly and nodded.

  Ardag could read the situation well and spoke up, 'You mean to attack them.'

  'That would be madness,' said Bry, not thinking for a moment that Ardag was correct.

  Finnvid gave them a smile and shook his head. 'We are a warrior race, if we let this party go, soon more will come. If we kill them their tribe will not find them and they will think twice about coming back.'

  'Can we not go around them?' suggested Bry.

  Jess laughed at the suggestion and said mockingly, 'If you're afraid to fight, woman, I suggest you wait here.'

  Bry's face filled with rage and she pointed angrily at Jess. 'You watch your mouth before I stick my fist in your pretty face.'

  The shield-maiden laughed, 'An action you would pay for.'

  Finnvid intervened, 'Enough of this bickering, ladies, the real enemy is out there.' He put an arm around his short-tempered sister.

  Ardag soothed Bry, and the two women exchanged defiant looks. The tension between them had been mounting since they left the village, not helped by their similar personalities.

  Finnvid continued, 'We will let them pass by, then after they have all passed the cavern, we exit and make our challenge known.' Everybody nodded in agreement.

  'Good plan, Finnvid,' Ardag said approvingly. 'How may I and my companions assist you? Johan and I are good with a blade, Bry has her bear form, and Larko has his bow.'

  'Thank you Ardag, we will make good use of you,' replied Finnvid, placing an arm on Ardag’s shoulder. He motioned for everyone to be silent as the last giantling passed. 'Let's go.'

  One by one they all left the cavern and gathered outside. Just as the last warrior crawled out, one of the giantlings spotted the party. With a deep cry, the giantling alerted the others. Soon all of them faced the smaller gathering of Mjorn warriors. The giantlings began shouting abuse in their own tongue at the party, and the wolves began to howl.

  'Form up, warriors! Shield wall!' bellowed Finnvid. Ten of the warriors formed a tight line with their large, circular, patterned shields forming a tough wooden wall. Ten more formed up behind them, making the Mjorn wall even sturdier. Finnvid, Ardag, and Johan stayed behind the wall, with Jess and Larko behind them, readying their bows.

  Bry took on her bear form, much to the shock of those who had never seen a shape shifter. She roared loudly, the roar echoing throughout the Cold Wood. Adrenalin ran through Johan making him feel surprisingly warm in the bitter cold.

  The giantlings formed more of a rubble formation compared to the well-trained Mjorn. Without any apparent orders from a leader, the giantlings charged towards the Mjorn wall, the wolves following from behind. Soon they crashed into the wall; thirsty for blood, the giantlings clawed, whacked and bit at the formidable barrier.

  Larko and Jess began firing arrows into the small pack of giantlings, five had already been felled by their precise shots. Every now and then, one of the Mjorn warriors standing behind the first flank stabbed with a spear or sword at any bit of giantling flesh they thought they could reach.

  The strong wall held for an entire ten minutes before it broke. They had killed half of the attacking force when, finally, one of the warriors fell with a crude blade wound to the neck. Now a gap opened in the wall; the giantlings took advantage and a hand-to-hand melee soon followed.

  Bry took full advantage and pounced into the fray. She bit and clawed at the half-giant creatures before her. Her targets were the wolves, though. The three of them had not yet joined the skirmish; they spied her and suddenly raced towards her, growling, their hungry yellow eyes fixed on her. Bry easily whacked aside the first one that got close – it flew through the air and the sound of its back cracking could be heard above the sound of battle. The other two wolves took a less direct approach and pounced on her from either side.

  The larger than average light-brown bear overpowered the two wolves easily. Bry had received mild scratches from their claws. She bit at the one that was on her back, and managed to get a grip of the wolf's bushy tail and swung the beast around as if it were a plaything; it went crashing into a small huddled group of giantlings. The other wolf circled Bry, snarling, showing its dangerous white teeth. Soon the two beasts launched themselves at each other and ended up in a vicious embrace.

  Bry played her strength to her advantage, though. She managed to pin the smaller animal down and tore its throat out with one bite. The wolf she had bitten earlier once again charged at her, obviously not concerned with the fate that had befallen its companions. Bry finished it off with one swipe of her paw, breaking its neck.

  Johan and Ardag were also engaged, fighting back to back against the strong creatures. Ardag’s katana danced as he quickly disposed of any enemy that came close. Johan also had success defeating his enemies with his sword – months of training had paid off.

  Larko, the elf, had brought to the field his unique fighting style. Once the enemy came too close for him to use his bow, he drew his golden sword and, with lightning speed, he slew many enemies.

  Johan took a moment to check the progress of battle after removing his blade from the skull of a giantling. He marvelled at the sheer skill of the Mjorn warriors, who were ferocious fighters. They killed the giantlings with ease; Johan was particularly impressed with the skill of Finnvid. The Mjorn prince wielded two axes and slew his enemies with extreme efficiency. Jess was also impressive; the women of Wilmurin didn't fight, but the women of the Mjorn could equal any of the men. Jess was no exception, she fought fearlessly with her single long sword. Every kill fuelled her rage. Jess and Johan exchanged a quick glance. The beautiful woman with auburn hair managed a smile before killing another enemy.

  The battle did not last long after the shield wall broke. There were thirty-five giantlings in total, five more than the original estimate, and all perished. Six Mjorn had died, leaving the party’s total number at twenty. The party stood exhausted – fighting in the cold was an exhaus
ting business, and once the adrenalin wore off, coldness crept back in.

  The party found that the giantlings had a hoard of food. Wild berries, nuts, fruit, ground vegetables, and even two deer carcasses. The giantlings were obviously preparing for the Cold Times ahead, in two months’ time, when the temperature would fall to nearly five times as cold as the present. The Cold Times would last for three months; Finnvid hoped they would be back before then, otherwise they would all be dead.

  The Mjorn performed their customary burial rituals, burning their dead. The excitement of the victory and the food that came with it soon diminished. The ground began to shake around them, then came the noise of a beating drum. The party turned to see the source of the noise. Their faces fell as they saw the new threat coming towards them

  Four huge blue giants, their skin shiny and apparently made of ice, three times the size of one of the Mjorn warriors, raced towards the party with a horde of wolves and giantlings.

  Bry returned to her bear form; panting and fatigued she spoke directly to Jess, 'I hope you’re not going to say we have to stand our ground and fight these things.'

  Jess replied without glancing at Bry, 'That would be suicide – as much as I would love to die in battle and dine with the gods in their halls, this would not be an honourable death.'

  'Enough talking,' Finnvid quickly said. 'The foraging party must have been bait to lure us out.'

  'They planned it all along, they must have known where we were sheltering last night,' added Ardag.

  Larko cut in, frustrated, 'Should we not run or do you wait here to be slaughtered?'

  'Run!' Finnvid shouted, cursing himself for taking too long to think.

  The party turned and ran as fast as they could. The enemy were a hundred metres behind them, but the enormous strides of the frost giants put the party at a disadvantage. Johan and the others were exhausted; not long ago they had been locked in a melee – now, they ran for their lives.