The Long War 02 - The Dark Blood

by A. J. Smith

  ‘Move forward,’ she said quietly, holding her battleaxe loosely in her hand.

  Oleff took a deep breath and led the first few men into the cave. The firelight spread out and the rest of the column followed slowly. Halla made sure she was close behind Oleff. Wulfrick, who had still not drawn his axe, remained just behind.

  Within a few minutes, the first hundred or so battle-brothers had entered the ice caverns and Halla could see their fearful eyes behind her. She had witnessed much bravery and strength among her men since they had escaped the Kraken Sea, but she had not seen fear like this on their faces.

  ‘Stay together. We need to find somewhere where we can camp five hundred people and not get eaten.’ Halla tried to sound light-hearted, but she knew that no one felt anything but fear as they advanced further into the ice caverns.

  It was a slow process. As soon as the hundreds of non-combatants had entered the cave, their pace slowed to a virtual crawl. The way northwards was relatively easy to navigate at first and Halla found herself walking warily along an undulating road of slippery ice. Either side of them, stalactites descended at irregular heights from the cave roof. As the caverns stretched away from the Fjorlanders, the column lengthened to pass the narrowest points.

  The caves quickly began to all look the same. Within a few hours, it was only Lullaby’s unerring sense of direction that kept them heading north, and Oleff’s torches that allowed them to see. Halla had placed torch-bearers at regular intervals along the column and looking back through the cave was like watching a slowly moving snake of light crawling through the icy darkness.

  Halla had seen no signs of Gorlan. They would pass underneath the Bear’s Mouth within a day and then, Falling Cloud assured them, there was an external waterfall that marked the northern boundary of the ice caverns. If they could set a faster pace and sleep for as few hours as possible, Halla hoped they would see the sky in two or three days.

  Then, as complaints about tiredness started to ripple through the column, they dropped into a large cavern. Halla called a halt, observing the size of the cave they had entered and the web coating every surface. It was the largest space they had come across since entering the caverns and their first few torches hardly cast any light into the icy expanse.

  ‘What the...’ said Oleff, as he held up his flaming torch to expose hundreds of web-filled tunnels leading away from them. The mouth of each tunnel was covered with a strange, corrosive-looking fluid and, though she could see no spiders, Halla knew they must be close.

  ‘Did we take a wrong turn?’ she asked Anya, who stood in Wulfrick’s shadow.

  ‘No, this is the way, young lady, onwards and upwards.’ The old woman’s words were trembling and croaky.

  ‘We need to keep quiet,’ said Falling Cloud, crouching. ‘Keep your footsteps as light as possible.’

  ‘Rexel, I’m hardly a waif, you know,’ Wulfrick responded. ‘I can only stay so quiet.’

  They looked at their metal armour and heavy weaponry. Behind them, a hundred battle-brothers whispered anxious words as they followed Halla and her captains into the cavern.

  ‘They sense vibration, and they never make any noise,’ whispered Falling Cloud.

  ‘The Ice Father said that many would die,’ said Anya intensely. ‘But all would die at the Bear’s Mouth. Remember that, young lady.’

  A grunt of alarm sounded from behind them.

  Near the entrance to the cavern, where the column was still entering the vast space, Halla saw the head of one of her men disappear quickly down a thickly webbed side tunnel. Two grotesque, blade-like legs wrapped round the Ranen’s head and smothered his cry as a stain of blood sprayed up into the torchlight. The creature’s legs were stark white and had a bloated and bulbous quality that made Halla’s skin crawl and her mouth turn dry. Other tunnels above and beneath them erupted into movement as more ice spiders reached out and grabbed any man close enough.

  Halla hefted her axe and, no longer trying to remain quiet, shouted, ‘Move everyone forward, now!’

  Wulfrick reared up next to her and, looking ahead, took a sharp intake of breath. ‘We need to get the fuck out of here,’ he said, with a catch in his voice. ‘Look!’ The last word was deathly quiet, and Oleff, Rexel, Anya and Halla all peered forward in the direction they had been travelling.

  Emerging from a thickly webbed tunnel, which dropped down almost vertically, was a giant, white spider. The Gorlan spread its jagged and bulbous legs on to the cavern floor and shifted its grotesque abdomen upwards. It was coloured a sickly white and looked almost opaque against the ice. The word spider seemed inadequate, as a sticky, viscous fluid dripped from two huge fangs and melted the ice beneath the beast.

  They froze for a moment in unutterable fear. Not since the Krakens had Halla felt so small when faced with an enemy, and all the battle-brothers clenched their fists around their axes.

  The Gorlan was terrifying, but Halla steeled herself and shouted, ‘Clear the way,’ as she ran at the ice spider, followed by a roaring Wulfrick and other captains.

  The beast was clearly blind and the pink orbs of its eyes floated on the sticky surface of its head. Halla had to move slower than she wished to remain standing on the ice, and she almost slid into the massive beast, using her axe as a battering ram.

  With a grunt of exertion, the axe-maiden struck the spider between two of its eight eyes, causing the Gorlan to flinch and lash forward with its sticky, gelatinous feelers. One of these was instantly severed by Wulfrick’s two-handed axe and Falling Cloud grabbed the other.

  ‘Skewer the fucking thing,’ roared Rexel, as Oleff jumped forward and rammed his battleaxe into the creature’s abdomen.

  Halla pulled back her own weapon and drove it into the spider’s head a second time. More of the beast’s viscous blood coated her axe and spread on to the ice. The Gorlan made a vile gurgling sound and reared up, baring its fangs.

  ‘Halla,’ shouted a voice from behind, ‘move to your left.’

  She removed her axe and swayed out of the way as Heinrich Blood fired an arrow over her shoulder, which struck the spider between its huge fangs. The creature slumped, gave another hissing gurgle, and flailed its legs. Oleff, Wulfrick and Halla stepped forward as one and drove their weapons deep into the spider’s body.

  Falling Cloud darted past the dead Gorlan and threw a flaming torch towards their exit. ‘The way won’t stay clear for long. Get those people moving,’ he shouted, crouching down and scanning the cavern ahead.

  Halla was breathing heavily and a little stunned. But now she knew that at least the ice spiders of Fjorlan could be killed, and she turned quickly to see how her column was faring.

  Dead Gorlan, equally grotesque but much smaller than the first, littered the cavern. Several men were missing, but the rest stood guard over empty tunnels and wounded warriors. A few had been bitten and looked pale and close to death. The deep punctures resembled dagger or arrow wounds. At least two hundred of their best warriors were now in the spider cavern and Halla could see the rest of the column clustered in fear at the entrance.

  The cave was silent and no more Gorlan appeared. The dead spiders had all curled up into a misshapen caricature of death and they gave off a stink that made the air near them noxious.

  ‘Come on!’’ prompted Falling Cloud. ‘They’ll attack again.’

  Halla wiped sweat and Gorlan blood from her face. ‘Rexel, Heinrich, take the column forward. Move quickly. Wulfrick, you and Oleff are staying with me.’

  She waved at the first few ranks of men and they quickly began to usher the others in. Her battle-brothers stood guard either side of the cavern as the common folk of Hammerfall hurried warily across the web-strewn floor to follow Rexel and Heinrich.

  ‘Anya, go with Falling Cloud.’ The old wise woman was huddled up and keeping as far away from the side tunnels as possible.

  The column moved slowly and Halla’s muscles remained taut as she, Wulfrick and Oleff stood over the largest of the spider
tunnels. The wounded men were carried with the others. Rexel and Lullaby had now disappeared with the front of the column which, after a few minutes, cast no more than a shadowy globe of light within the ice caverns. Heinrich had gone shortly afterwards.

  When the women and children appeared at the cavern entrance and began to step on the web, Halla held her breath. A white spider leg appeared just as the first child began to cross the cavern and Wulfrick’s shouted warning was slightly too late.

  ‘Get back,’ he roared, as a Ranen child, no older than ten, was grabbed by a large spider that darted silently out of a wall tunnel.

  More large spiders emerged and a clicking sound filled the cavern as they began to swarm.

  ‘Run,’ shouted Halla as dozens of Gorlan the size of dogs flooded into the cavern. Others, even larger, came soon afterwards, followed by multitudes of tiny spiders. She bounded over the ice to where the child had been grabbed and kicked two smaller beasts out of the way. Oleff followed, while Wulfrick covered their exit. The non-combatants began to scream with panic.

  ‘She said run, you deaf bastards,’ repeated Oleff.

  The remaining battle-brothers helped the rear of the column into the cavern and shoved them across the ice towards Wulfrick. The Gorlan grabbed an old woman, then a larger one appeared and snared two axe-men, followed by a young man howling in fear as his entire body was covered with tiny spiders.

  Men and women died in pain as the Gorlan tore into their unexpected meal. Halla swung her axe in shallow circles, keeping the blade close to her body as she severed legs and crushed bodies. Wulfrick was roaring at the exit to the cave and his guttural howls echoed around as he killed any spider that tried to cut off their escape.

  More men died as the last few ranks encountered a carpet of poisonous Gorlan, and those in front had to fight desperately to reach Wulfrick and get out alive.

  ‘Halla, time to go,’ grunted Oleff from her left. ‘We’re getting overrun.’ His words accompanied the last man to enter the cavern. Halla turned to leave and saw Oleff suddenly pinned to the ground by a single large spider. Hard Head shouted in anger as he wrestled with the bulbous, white beast, but he couldn’t get any leverage to hit it with his axe. Halla sprang across and kicked it solidly in the eyes, allowing Oleff to stand, just as two huge fangs protruded from the axe-maiden’s shoulder.

  She gave a sharp and strangled cry. The Gorlan that had bitten her had wrapped its legs round her torso, pulling her backwards.

  ‘No fucking spider kills that lady.’ The voice seemed to Halla to come from far away, and all she could feel as she slipped into unconsciousness was a burning pain as the Gorlan venom paralysed her.

  * * *

  Halla woke in pain and couldn’t feel her limbs. She was cold, but she was alive. Her eyes were not focusing well and she had no idea where she was or what the shapes above her might be. She remembered the Gorlan and she remembered the bite. The pain in her chest was a reminder of the creature’s fangs and the numbness in her head was a reminder of its venom.

  ‘Wulfrick, her eyes are open,’ said an indistinct voice next to her.

  Her vision darkened and she felt the towering presence of the axe-master loom over her.

  ‘I can’t feel my arms or legs,’ she muttered through a raw and scratchy throat. ‘And I can’t see.’

  ‘You’re alive, my Lady Summer Wolf,’ was Wulfrick’s response. ‘Vision is overrated anyway and young Falling Cloud here is eager to act as your arms and legs.’

  ‘It’s true,’ said Rexel. ‘You’re not as heavy as I thought.’

  ‘Where are we?’ she murmured. ‘Are we safe... are we clear of the caverns?’

  ‘Can you not see the sky?’ asked Falling Cloud, though Halla still couldn’t make out his face.

  ‘Give it time,’ said Wulfrick, more gently this time. ‘Heinrich and Lullaby say you’ll be up and shouting at us all in a few days.’

  ‘The spiders... how many of us survived?’ Halla thought she could still see the bloated white beasts. Their noxious stench would stay with her for a long time to come.

  There was no response for a moment and she could sense that Wulfrick and Falling Cloud were communicating something wordlessly above her. Lullaby had told her that many would die in the ice caverns, but she still hoped that the majority of her company had made it out alive.

  ‘A hundred and fifty are still in the spider caverns,’ replied Falling Cloud in a quiet and matter-of-fact tone. ‘Maybe one or two stragglers will still come out, but most of them are dead.’

  ‘But there’s some good news too,’ said Wulfrick quickly. ‘We’re past the Bear’s Mouth and will likely sight Jarvik in a day or two.’

  CHAPTER 3

  ALAHAN TEARDROP ALGESSON IN THE CITY OF TIERGARTEN

  He was deeply relieved to sight the city of Summer Wolf. The journey had been hard, cold and even life-threatening on several occasions. After their encounter with the troll, Alahan had come to believe that the beasts of Fjorlan were more active than normal, perhaps sharing the pain of Rowanoco’s land under the yoke of a betrayer.

  Timon the Butcher, Alahan’s strange companion, had become no more talkative and refused to be drawn as to how and why he’d managed to get a hug from one of the Ice Men of Rowanoco. Even the strange crystals he kept in the pouch at his belt were off limits, and Alahan had ceased to ask what the pouch contained.

  ‘Will I be welcome in a city of men?’ asked the Low Kast berserker as they approached the tall, stone monolith of Tiergarten. ‘I don’t want to frighten anyone.’

  Alahan looked at Timon and smiled. The berserker had once again bound his huge, misshapen head in leather so that he looked strange rather than monstrous. ‘You’ll be fine, friend. I’ll slap anyone that gives you a second glance,’ he replied.

  ‘You’d do that for me, friend Alahan?’ Timon’s mouth was twisted in an odd caricature of a smile. His eyes showed childish glee at having found a friend who would stick up for him. Once again, Alahan was glad he had the berserker as a companion.

  ‘You’re my only friend in the world, my dear Timon,’ replied the young thain, ‘though I might be able to find another one or two in Tiergarten.’

  The man of the Low Kast grinned again and lengthened his stride, almost skipping along the snowy path towards the city. The city of Summer Wolf was the oldest in Fjorlan, probably in Ranen and possibly in the entire lands of men. It was made primarily of stone, built into the side of the mountain and constructed with height in mind. The low harbours were smaller than those of Alahan’s home city of Fredericksand, but still spread right across three low inlets, though they were currently devoid of any dragon ships.

  From the slowly rolling Fjorlan Sea, across a plain of ice and snow, the city followed the natural curve of the rocky cliffs. The thick stone walls had supposedly been built by the first Ranen of Fjorlan. The city grew larger as the cliffs levelled out, with the top stone platform housing the hall of Summer Wolf and the chapel of Rowanoco. Alahan could see the Steps of Kalall, a wide staircase that intersected all the levels and gave access to all areas of Tiergarten, despite the city’s vertical design. At the very top was Oreck’s Spire, the fortified watchtower that looked out over the seemingly endless southern plains of Summer Wolf.

  ‘It looks like a mountain,’ observed Timon. ‘Was it built by men?’

  ‘Supposedly,’ replied Alahan, ‘though my uncle used to say it was put there by the last of the Ice Giants as a gift for the men of Ranen.’

  ‘Varorg is a most generous father.’ Timon’s response was delivered with deep sincerity.

  ‘Let’s hope his generosity extends to helping a displaced high thain,’ replied Alahan, playfully making light of his friend’s piety.

  They were still a good way ahead of Kalag Ursa and the forces sent out by his father, and Alahan hoped there were still enough battle-brothers in Tiergarten to repulse an attack. He wasn’t sure how many men were pursuing them, but he knew the men of Jarvik well enough to
think they would have sent a significant force after Algenon Teardrop’s son – likely enough to assault any place that he might seek refuge.

  He didn’t know what state the city would be in, whether the loss of the dragon fleet had completely crippled it or whether there remained an axe-master to lead the people. Either way, old Father Brindon Crowe, the priest of the Order of the Hammer, was the best place to start. The old man of Tiergarten had not been with the fleet and he would surely have taken charge and locked down the city when he heard about Rulag the Betrayer’s actions.

  No one travelled the north–south road that led along the coast. Indeed, Alahan had not seen another man since he was assaulted by Ursa’s men almost a month before. The lands of Fjorlan did not lend themselves to easy travel, but it was still surprising that no one should be abroad in the realm of Summer Wolf. If old Father Crowe had called the common folk back to Tiergarten, Alahan was sure that they would prove loyal to the house of Teardrop and not willingly submit to Rulag and his loathsome son.

  ‘They’ll have watchers up on the cliff face,’ he said to Timon, as they reached the flattest part of the trail that led straight to the northern gates of Tiergarten.

  They were now exposed against the white background of Fjorlan and no cover was readily at hand. Alahan had no grand delusions about sneaking up on the city, but he felt slightly foolish marching absently along the road when he knew so many men would be pursuing him.

  ‘Should I signal to them?’ asked the Low Kast berserker. ‘So they don’t think we’re hostile.’

  ‘We’re not exactly an army. I’m sure they won’t be too worried about a frontal assault.’ Alahan shielded his eyes from the glare and scanned the cliff face above them. He could not see any people, but if there were any, they would surely be hidden from view.