The Long War 02 - The Dark Blood

by A. J. Smith

  All three looked up at Rexel, who was tapping his feet in embarrassment. ‘She was an adviser to Oreck Silver Tongue, back in the days when Ragnar Teardrop was high thain,’ said Falling Cloud.

  ‘Well, she’s coming with us,’ said Halla in resignation. ‘We can’t leave her sitting in the snow this close to the Bear’s Mouth.’

  Anya Lullaby scowled at the warriors standing round her. Wulfrick and Oleff towered over the shrivelled old woman, but she didn’t seem to care, looking at both the men as if they were naughty children.

  ‘Where are we, young men?’ she asked.

  They exchanged glances, and Oleff, slightly the older of the two, said to Wulfrick, ‘I think she’s talking to you.’

  ‘This is the Bear’s Mouth, mother,’ said the axe-master of Fredericksand. ‘The plateaus of Ursa.’

  Anya screwed up her face and looked skywards. ‘Hmm, I seem to have wandered further than I intended.’

  The day was wearing on and Halla knew that the temperature would begin to drop even further within the next few hours. She looked up at Rexel and couldn’t immediately see an easy path up to where he stood. ‘We can discuss it later, Mistress Lullaby,’ she said. ‘We need to move everyone up out of the gully and get some fires built.’

  With surprising speed, Anya slapped Halla hard in the face. ‘You will not address me by that name... my tea is very nutritious and good for you.’

  Everyone froze. Halla stood, stunned and with the taste of blood on her bottom lip.

  ‘Oh, yeah, she’s also a moody old bitch,’ said Rexel with a laugh. ‘Don’t take it personally, Halla.’

  ‘Don’t think I won’t hit you, Mr Falling Cloud,’ snapped Anya, shaking her fist at the axe-master of Hammerfall. ‘I’ll knock some respect into all of you youngsters.’

  ‘I’m approaching fifty years, you miserable old sow,’ growled Oleff. ‘Don’t think I won’t give you a smack either, woman.’ The chain-master snorted with annoyance and marched off, back towards the column. ‘I’ll start to get everyone moving.’

  Rexel nodded. ‘And I’ll organize getting fires built.’ He disappeared out of view and on to the plateaus of Ursa above.

  Wulfrick remained with Halla and Anya. The huge man of Fredericksand had been more amused than Oleff, and he put a kindly arm round the old woman’s shoulders. ‘Don’t worry, mother, we’ll teach them some respect. Now, let’s get you out of this weather and in front of a nice warm fire.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, young man,’ replied Anya, nuzzling into the embrace of the axe-master.

  They made a comical pair as Wulfrick walked her away. Halla touched a spot of blood from her lip. ‘Well, at least she didn’t call me one-eye.’

  * * *

  The wise women of Fjorlan were an oddity among oddities. Old Father Crowe used to claim that, due to the sheer number of them, they had only a tenuous connection to the Ice Giant and received the will of Rowanoco in portents and vague omens. They stood in sharp contrast to the priests of the Order of the Hammer, who were few in number and powerful in consequence. The old man of Tiergarten thought that when the Ice Giant spread out his power it became less concentrated.

  Halla had met a few wise women in her time and had found them to be useful and annoying in equal measure. Whatever else they might be, they were skilled herbalists and were often to be found ministering to the sick and using their concoctions to aid in birth and death. Their obsession with fish entrails and reading the bones was harder to respect. As Wulfrick had said, the old pagan superstitions of Ranen, their earliest beliefs from before the Order of the Hammer, were generally viewed with condescension.

  Anya did not seem to care, or even to notice, that most of the Fjorlanders considered her a mad old woman. She stayed close to Wulfrick. She had bonded with him quickly and nestled into his huge presence next to the fire. The rest of Halla’s company were seated round campfires, spread out along a low plain. They were a short distance from the gully, with their backs to a small, rugged line of rocks. The accommodation was cramped, but provided adequate cover for all five hundred of them. They were situated well above the frozen river that ran along the bottom of the gully. The plateaus of Ursa were one of the higher points of Fjorlan. Only the mountains of Trollheim and a few peaks of the Deep Cross stood taller. Falling Cloud was a good man to have around in such terrain, because his upbringing, travelling the wilds of Hammerfall and the Wolf Wood, had gained him a mastery of outdoor survival, which had become a lost art among the city- and town-dwelling Fjorlanders.

  ‘How many, do you think?’ Wulfrick asked, pulling Halla back to the present.

  ‘What?’ she retorted, wrapping her thick cloak around her shoulders and rubbing her hands together next to the fire.

  ‘How many of our new followers will fight?’ he asked. ‘A few carry axes, but I don’t fancy their chances at the Bear’s Mouth. We’ve got the original two hundred, and maybe a hundred more from the estuaries, but what are we going to do with the women and children?’

  They had tried not to think too much about the common people who had joined the company. They had been rescued from burning villages or had latched on to the column as it passed their dead livestock and burned crops. Their chances of survival if they stayed in Hammerfall were negligible, but their path through the Bear’s Mouth was almost as dangerous.

  ‘If we take the three hundred warriors and clear Grammah Black Eyes and his men, they can follow when it’s safe,’ she said.

  Wulfrick raised an eyebrow and handed her a wooden bowl of steaming stew. Falling Cloud had rustled up something from dried vegetables and Gorlan legs. It tasted horrible, but it was hot and vaguely nutritious.

  ‘I appreciate that we’ve been driven by passion and the desire for vengeance, but those things won’t help when Black Eyes is throwing rocks at us.’ Wulfrick was wiser than he often appeared, and Halla occasionally had to remind herself that the axe-master of Fredericksand was no frenzied berserker. ‘The Bear’s Mouth is like a fortress and we don’t have enough men to storm it... passion or no passion,’ continued Wulfrick, slurping stew from his own bowl.

  Halla was thinking. She had not had leisure to formulate a plan, and never having seen the Bear’s Mouth, she felt out of her depth. Still, Wulfrick and her captains looked to her with trust and loyalty, and she didn’t want to admit that she was at a loss for a strategy. She was also a little afraid. She had become the leader of a mixed company of battle-brothers, women, children and the elderly. She had never expected this when she washed ashore after her encounter with the Krakens of the Fjorlan Sea.

  ‘How many men will Grammah have, do you think?’ she asked Wulfrick, stirring her stew with a wooden spoon and trying to identify the roots and vegetables that floated to the top. ‘Rulag wouldn’t know we survived, so he might not have stationed many men there.’ It was a forlorn hope.

  Wulfrick spat out a chunk of something that resembled a Gorlan leg bone. ‘It’s the southern border of Jarvik... where else would he put his men?’

  ‘We’ll be there in a few days, so I suppose we’ll see,’ she said. ‘Maybe Rexel can get close enough to scout out their numbers.’

  Wulfrick raised an eyebrow and nodded, though there was a note of sarcasm in his manner. ‘And maybe we won’t get killed,’ he replied, glancing across the plain to where Rexel sat with Oleff and Heinrich Blood, the novice of the Order of the Hammer.

  ‘Pessimism – that’s helpful,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘You’re a silly little girl,’ said Anya through a throaty chuckle. The wise woman had been silent up to this point and appeared to be enjoying Rexel’s stew.

  Halla did not feel offended this time. Instead, she barely stifled a laugh. She was indeed being a silly little girl and she couldn’t disagree with the wise woman.

  ‘You’ve found your sense of humour, my Lady Summer Wolf,’ said Wulfrick, genuinely surprised at her reaction.

  ‘Maybe she’s right,’ Halla responded with a broad grin. ‘I
have no idea what we should do, where we should go, who we should be looking for... none of it. I just know how to swing an axe.’

  Wulfrick smiled back and for a moment the atmosphere was as relaxed as it had ever been since the dragon fleet launched from Fredericksand. Time had meant little and Halla was unsure how long they had been moving northwards or how long it was since they had released the king. That realization amused her all the more, and they shared a gallows humour round the campfire as it dawned on Halla that she was really not cut out to be a leader.

  ‘You’re better than you think,’ said Anya without turning from the fire. ‘These men are true to you.’ She looked up at Halla with her strangely intense stare. ‘Have faith in the Ice Father, young lady.’

  The axe-maiden turned slowly to look at the wise woman. Wulfrick was hulking over her, providing cover against the cold wind, and she looked tiny in comparison.

  ‘You know things, Lullaby,’ said Halla suspiciously, ‘things you shouldn’t know.’

  Anya moved her hand quickly to slap Halla, but the axe-maiden grabbed her wrist and held the old woman securely.

  ‘Easy,’ said Wulfrick protectively. ‘She’s just a bit prickly, no need to hurt her.’

  ‘She knew what I was thinking,’ Halla replied, not looking away from Anya.

  The wise woman smiled, an unpleasant sneer that made her wrinkled face crease up even more. ‘I did... and I do... if you want to know how... or why,’ she said mysteriously. Her eyes narrowed into a mischievous expression. ‘You’ll take my advice, won’t you, Halla Summer Wolf?’

  Wulfrick looked at the axe-maiden and his eyes showed that he had become suddenly wary. He backed away from the wise woman. ‘Explain yourself, mother.’

  ‘Fear not, axe-master.’ Anya seemed dangerously aware all of a sudden. ‘I speak only what appears in my head, only what the Ice Father says to me.’ She flicked her eyes between Halla and Wulfrick. ‘He cannot talk to us any more, so he throws his thoughts out to reach a man, or a woman, of Ranen.’ Her face softened now. It took on a warm expression that caused Wulfrick and Halla to relax. ‘I hear a little, and you youngsters should listen. I know the way.’

  The snow no longer made Halla shiver. She frowned and involuntarily her mind relaxed. The old woman’s words had changed from obscure ranting to wise reflection. Suddenly, she was someone to listen to. Across the camp, Heinrich Blood, the young novice, looked towards them with wide eyes. He was still learning to be a priest, but he had demonstrated on numerous occasions that he was deeply devoted to the Ice Giant.

  ‘We know our path, mother,’ said Wulfrick, still on guard, but letting his words sound gentle. ‘For good or ill, we assault the Bear’s Mouth.’

  Anya shook her head, but smiled contentedly at Wulfrick’s renewed warmth. ‘No, no, no. Your path goes beneath, young man.’ She stretched out her hands and rubbed them together in front of the fire. ‘In the ice caverns you will lose some, but at the Bear’s Mouth you will lose all.’

  ‘People don’t come back from the ice caverns, mother,’ replied Wulfrick.

  Halla had never heard of any way beneath the Bear’s Mouth. She was leaning in now and listening intently to the wise woman.

  ‘You are almost as silly as the girl, young man,’ snapped Anya. She turned back to Halla and smirked mischievously. ‘Your path goes beneath. Listen to an old woman who knows more than you can possibly imagine, axe-maiden of Rowanoco.’

  Halla maintained eye-contact with the old woman for a moment before looking across the camp and shouting for Rexel Falling Cloud to join them. The axe-master of Hammerfall looked up sharply and made his way over to them. He did not take his eyes off the old woman as he approached. Whatever Heinrich had been saying had put him on guard.

  ‘A cold night,’ he said conversationally, sitting down by their fire and warming his hands. ‘I’ll take ten men on ahead at first light and see what we can find.’

  Anya chuckled to herself and nuzzled further into Wulfrick’s chest to protect herself against the cold.

  ‘I won’t fall for the wise old woman act, Lullaby... and don’t you even think about slapping me,’ barked Falling Cloud.

  Anya smirked. ‘Do not let fear of things you don’t understand drive you to foolishness.’

  ‘Keep it to yourself,’ said Rexel. Then he turned to Halla and formed his words more respectfully. ‘You wanted something, my lady?’

  She nodded and waved away the objection Wulfrick was about to make to Falling Cloud’s comment. The woman’s wisdom aside, it was his way to be suspicious and it was a quality she valued.

  ‘The ice caverns, what do you know about them?’ she asked abruptly.

  Rexel screwed his face up in thought. ‘You mean the spider caverns?’

  ‘Do I?’ she asked Anya, who nodded gleefully.

  ‘Shit,’ was the simple comment from Rexel. ‘Only a madman or a fool would consider that a safer route than the Bear’s Mouth.’

  ‘I am neither, young Falling Cloud.’ Anya wasn’t looking at him and her frail hands were still extended towards the fire. ‘You do not have enough warriors to pass the Bear’s Mouth. You will all die.’ She spoke as if it were the simplest matter in the world.

  ‘Let’s not be hasty,’ interjected Wulfrick. ‘We’re hard people to kill.’ He spoke with a pride that Falling Cloud clearly shared.

  Anya chuckled again. ‘You will kill many, and you will die bravely.’

  Neither of the men said anything. Instead, both looked at Halla. She was considering her options. Passion alone would not be sufficient to preserve her company against Grammah Black Eyes and an unknown number of warriors. She had women and children, too, to worry about now. If the warriors were killed, they would surely die soon after. But she trusted Falling Cloud’s judgement, and she hoped he would have some wise counsel concerning these ice caverns.

  ‘The ice caverns?’ she prompted. ‘Do you know anything useful about them?’

  Rexel nodded and gave a slight frown. ‘They’re easy to find, if that’s what you mean.’ He paused and adopted a more serious expression. ‘Okay, the ice caverns. They run from Jarvik to... I don’t know, the sea, probably. They’re full of Gorlan, and I mean the big ones that are actually dangerous. Trolls don’t go down there, that should tell you something.’

  They had encountered many nests of ice spiders on their journey north, but Halla had yet to see one of the great beasts that so terrified the common folk of Fjorlan. They were said to emerge with lightning speed from trapdoors and snare men.

  ‘Are they passable?’ she asked.

  ‘They are, but I’d prefer a stand-up fight at the Bear’s Mouth,’ he replied, with a slight twitch of his lip, indicating his eagerness for the fight.

  ‘You have no choice,’ cackled Anya, clapping her hands together and bouncing up and down excitedly.

  ‘Shut it, Lullaby,’ snapped Falling Cloud.

  ‘Rexel, remember your manners,’ Wulfrick growled at him.

  ‘You don’t know this old hag. She was half-mad when I was a boy...’ He stood up defiantly. ‘Halla, I will follow you into the ice halls if you bid me to, but tell me you’re going on more than this crazed old woman’s word.’

  Heinrich Blood appeared over Falling Cloud’s shoulder, making the axe-master of Hammerfall jump. ‘You should listen to her,’ said the young novice. ‘She might appear mad, but she speaks for the Earth Shaker.’

  Anya smiled once more and they all relaxed – even Rexel, whose defiance quickly evaporated. Whatever the old woman might be, Halla was sure she was not their enemy. ‘Heinrich,’ she asked the young novice, ‘do you trust her words?’

  He looked at the fire, deep in thought. ‘I am not worthy to call myself a priest of the Order of the Hammer – not yet, maybe never – but I can feel the footsteps of the Ice Giants and I have devoted my life to Rowanoco.’ He paused and looked at Anya Lullaby with something approaching reverence. ‘The blood is almost spent, mother. Samson the Liar is dead, th
e last old-blood of the Ice Giants has fallen, and the shades come.’

  Heinrich had repeated Anya’s words, though there were no bones to read – just a glance between the two faithful of Rowanoco.

  ‘Yes,’ said Heinrich with conviction. ‘I trust her words, and so should you.’

  ‘The ice caverns it is,’ said Falling Cloud reluctantly. ‘We’d have only ended up massacring a load more Ranen at the Bear’s Mouth anyway.’

  ‘Our road hasn’t changed,’ said Halla. ‘We are still bound for Jarvik and a cloud-stone, we’re just changing how we get there.’

  ‘And not all dying,’ giggled Anya, cuddling up to Wulfrick so that the huge axe-master looked rather uncomfortable.

  * * *

  Word had spread quickly among the company that their road was to go under the Bear’s Mouth rather than through it. Halla heard a variety of responses, from both the battle-brothers and the common folk who travelled with them. Mostly they were pleased they wouldn’t be clashing axes with Grammah Black Eyes, but Wulfrick said this was because they didn’t truly know what awaited in the ice caverns – not that Halla did either, as she led her company into the dark, forbidding cave that opened before them.

  Her captains were at the front of the column, and all except Wulfrick had their weapons drawn. Lullaby stood behind them and they walked forward in a tight group.

  They had followed Rexel’s directions away from the gully and marched for most of the day until they had found a narrow canyon that dug into the ice plateaus of Ursa. Most of the column, the non-combatants from Hammerfall, waited above on the flat ground while the hardened warriors investigated the cave entrance below. Once the way was clear, Halla would begin to move the column through the ice caverns, hoping that any attack might come at a place where they could defend themselves.

  Oleff Hard Head and several others had flaming torches and were taking their first steps into the caverns. Halla and Wulfrick were a step behind and saw a vista of ice open up before them. The cavern appeared as a forest of stalactites hanging down and producing a regular drip of tepid water on to the floor. Irregular paths ran away from them, stretching into the dark caves beyond their globe of light. If there were Gorlan living in these caverns, they were deeper underground. Halla’s skin crawled as she imagined a silent attack from the ice spiders.