Ashes of a Black Frost

THIRTY-SEVEN

They’re in the trees!”

Black arrows zipped through the rigging of the Black Spike and lodged with loud thunks into the decking. Others twanged as they bounced off the extra planking. The yammering howl of rakkes broke out all around them. Other, stranger cries added to the clamor.

“RSM, you have the guns!” Konowa shouted. He crawled forward and poked his head up and around a barrel of what he suspected were pickles. Sarka har dotted the rocks. There was little purchase for them here on the mountainside, but great snakes of roots connected one to another, helping to anchor them in place. Rakkes streamed toward the ship from both sides of the river, coming to the riverbanks and throwing rocks in their frustration. Further back, Konowa spotted the dark, flitting figures of Her dark, twisted elves. “There but for my parents,” he said, making a mental note to thank his father when all this was over.

He was starting to wonder what happened to Yimt when he heard the dwarf’s voice rise above the din. “This is for Ally! Fire!”

The Black Spike didn’t disintegrate, not entirely. The combined fire of over sixty cannons shook what was left of the ship to its core. Massive oak ribs snapped like twigs. Whole sections of deck collapsed and the aft mast split all the way to the top before toppling over.

The effect on the riverbanks for two hundred yards deep, however, was total obliteration. A gale of death swept over the rocks, scouring everything on it like a million scythes. Elves, rakkes, and sarka har simply vanished in a pulverized mist of bone, flesh, and blood. Konowa tried to stand, but for a moment his legs wouldn’t cooperate. The ringing in his ears was so loud it merged into one long wail. When he finally regained some balance he stood, coughing in the thick cloud of smoke now choking the Black Spike. When the smoke finally dissipated Konowa simply stared. Even the rocks bore the scars of the Black Spike’s cannonade. Everything was cracked and gouged.

“I would have liked a few more cannon, but overall I’d say that worked,” Yimt said, walking up to the bow. “You think Ally saw that?”

Konowa looked down at the dwarf. “Saw it, felt it, and most definitely heard it.”

Yimt beamed, his metal teeth gleaming. “Aye, that’s what I think, too.”

Corporal Feylan came running to the bow. “Colonel! We’re starting to drift.”

It took Konowa a moment to understand what that meant. And then it hit home. “Get everyone off now. We got our free ride, but this is the end of the line. The Black Spike is going back down the mountain.”

Gangplanks were hurriedly thrown over the starboard side, which was now less than two yards from the riverbank. Some men jumped, but most waited their turn and traversed the planking to land on the shore. Konowa watched the procession, aware the ship was drifting backward faster and faster. The end of the gangplank was scraping against the rocks.

“I’m sorry about your ship,” Konowa said, addressing Captain Ervod.

“She served us well. I’ll-”

The Black Spike lurched and began listing heavily to starboard, cutting off the captain’s eulogy. The man stumbled and fell down the gangplank to land at the river’s edge where waiting sailors fished him out. Konowa ran onto the gangplank and was soon tumbling himself the last yard to land in a heap on the rocks. He looked back and saw with horror that his father was still on the ship. The older elf was standing in front of the shimmering image of his ryk faur.

“Father! Get off the ship!”

Jurwan reached out a hand and patted the bark, then turned and slowly walked across the deck and down the gangplank as if his life wasn’t in mortal danger. A shadow flitted above Konowa and he looked up to see Tyul leap gracefully from the tree to land casually on the rocks as light as a, well, leaf. The image of the Wolf Oak flickered and then was gone.

A moment later, the Black Spike turned onto its side, its remaining masts splintering on the rocks as it was carried away by the river. Cannons rolled across the deck and splashed into the water, and then the ship shuddered and broke apart.

“A sad end to a brave girl,” Rallie said, scribbling in her papers.

Konowa could only nod in agreement. He picked himself up and brushed off the knees of his trousers. A soldier handed him his shako, which he jammed onto his head. Looking around, the sailors were all grouped together looking forlorn and lost. They were, however, armed. RSM Arkhorn had apparently seen to everything.

“Captain,” Konowa said, “this wasn’t part of the plan, although I suppose it was always the likelihood. I don’t feel right about leaving you here, but if you come with us. .”

Captain Ervod shook his head. “We’d only slow you down and be in your way. And I have wounded. We’ll get ourselves sorted and set up a defense here as best we can. Depending on what happens up there, you’ll have a place to fall back to.”

Konowa smiled. If they needed a place to fall back to, they wouldn’t need it because they’d be dead. “Be well,” Konowa said, saluting.

Captain Ervod returned it. “May a fair wind favor you.”

The flapping of wings brought everyone’s heads up. Konowa broke out into a huge grin.

“They just did.”

A huge falcon the size of a horse landed on the rocks near the group. It laid its cargo on the ground before hopping awkwardly over to Rallie who cooed and petted it. Konowa ran to Visyna and held her, ignoring the frost fire. She awoke yelling and he reluctantly let go only to be bowled over by Jir. Konowa could only offer him a couple of playful swipes before he stood up and motioned for Jir to back off.

The area grew quiet as Jurwan walked over to the body of Chayii. Konowa followed, and knelt down beside his father. “I am sorry. I feel like if I had-”

Jurwan held up his hand. “She was proud of you. Always. She may not have agreed with the path you chose, or that I helped put you on, but she never once doubted the good in you. Know that. Cherish that.”

Konowa realized he did. “We must go, Father. She’ll know we’re here.”

Jurwan stood and faced him. “Yes, you must go. I, however, will stay here with your mother.”

Konowa opened his mouth to object and then understood.

“You climbed Her mountain once. Best you stay here and help the sailors. It’s my turn now.”

Jurwan nodded. He reached out and placed his hand over Konowa’s heart, the palm of his hand resting against the black acorn.

“When all this is done, you may wish to plant this.”

Konowa gently removed his father’s hand. “It’s evil. Look what it did to you. Imagine what it could do as a tree.”

Jurwan nodded. “Perhaps, but perhaps its proximity to your heart all this time has changed it more than it has changed you.”

“I have to go now, Father,” Konowa said, stepping back. He motioned with his hand and knew RSM Arkhorn would get the troops moving. “Stay here, stay safe, and know. . know that I love you.”

“Good luck, my son,” Jurwan said.

Konowa looked at him one more time, then turned and headed up the mountain, slowing his pace so that Visyna could match his stride. Rallie came up behind them and fell into step. Konowa felt comfort, surrounded as he was, but he knew his place was at the front.

He spoke to the two women. “Whatever happens, She is mine to deal with.” It wasn’t a question.

“Konowa-” Visyna started to say, but he just stared her down.

“She is mine.” He turned to look at Rallie.

“As you wish. I’ve only ever been along for the ride,” she said.

Konowa watched her a moment longer then turned back to the path leading up the mountain. He guessed it would take until just before nightfall for them to reach the top, but he planned to sprint ahead long before then. He couldn’t explain it, but the dream was clear. It all came down to him.

“Major Alstonfar, let’s pick up the pace. The Black Spike did a good job of scaring off anything within a couple of miles of here, so let’s make good time while we can.”

Orders were passed along from soldier to soldier which didn’t take long as they numbered a little over five dozen. Color Sergeant Aguom ordered the unfurling of the regimental and Queen’s Colors. The two cloth symbols were raised and snapped and rippled in the wind. Konowa took a moment to watch them, feeling a sense of pride and honor. His heart beat faster to see them in the air. He looked around at his men. They were a sight. Clad in black bark with tree branches sticking from their shakos they looked more like the monsters they were about to do battle with than Calahr’s finest.

His chest swelled at the sight of them. They weren’t his elves. Those soldiers were gone, lost a long time ago. He’d never had a chance to say he was sorry, to try and make them understand why he did what he did, and why, if he had the chance to do it all again, he would do the same damn thing. All this time he’d spent searching for them, believing that finding them would set everything right, only to realize that he’d had his Iron Elves with him the whole time. This ragtag collection of misfits were his regiment. RSM Arkhorn, quite possibly the best and worst soldier to ever wear sigger green. He sought out the soldiers he knew best, looking each in the eye, perhaps for the very last time. Color Sergeant Aguom, Corporals Vulhber and Feylan, Scolly and even Zwitty. He found his eyes searching for soldiers no longer there. RSM Lorian, Privates Meri and Kester and Teeter and the religious farmer, Inkermon, and above all, Private Renwar. He could still see the slender boy looking far too young to be carrying a musket, and how he changed before his eyes into something Konowa doubted he’d ever fully understand.

He caught himself daydreaming and stomped his boot on the ground. It was time. He motioned to Major Alstonfar and the order went out.

The Iron Elves shouldered their muskets, and marched forward, and into battle.