Heart of Black Ice

CHAPTER 15

The defenders straggled in from their separate missions and met at a sandstone outcropping in the forest. Some looked frightened, while some were giddy with excitement. Nathan did a rough tally, guessing that several hundred ancient warriors had been killed, all told, but four D’Haran soldiers had fallen in the various skirmishes. Most battlefield commanders would consider those acceptable losses, but losing even four members of their ragtag band was a serious blow.

The last group to return included Captain Trevor and the wizard Leo. Leo was a skinny man with a narrow face, shaggy gray-black hair, and a dark goatee. He had managed two yaxen slaughterhouses in Ildakar, but those days were gone. He seemed terrified as he sat among the others beneath the sandstone overhang. His hands were covered with drying blood. “I killed people. I used my gift, and I … I tore them to pieces. I watched them die.”

“They were our enemies,” Zimmer said. “It is what they deserved. You already killed many on the battlefield while you were helping Elsa lay down her transference magic.”

Leo nodded, though he still looked shaken.

“That is how we survive,” Verna explained to him in a calm voice. “And there will need to be much more killing.”

Oliver and Peretta returned to the camp with water from a nearby stream, while Amber and several Sisters of the Light foraged for berries and wild vegetables. Since they couldn’t risk building fires, Nathan used his gift to heat a flat slab of rock, which served as a stove, and Rendell made a decent meal by boiling dried beans along with some wild onions. They shared stories as they ate.

As he listened to Renn talk about Hanavir, Nathan absently rubbed the scar on his chest. Although his new heart beat steadily, he felt a dark vengeance trying to gain hold of his thoughts. A foreign part of his mind, some stain of Chief Handler Ivan that still dwelled inside the heart, chastised him about what he had done when faced with the terrible decision. Ivan’s sour presence complained that Nathan and Renn should have shown no mercy, that the weak townspeople of Hanavir were a necessary sacrifice to stop the raiding party. They deserved it. How many more people would die, now that General Utros could feed his army? Nathan gritted his teeth. His heart—Ivan’s heart—beat like a loud primal drum inside his chest.

Trying to drown out the unwelcome thoughts, he lurched to his feet, startling the others as he breathed hard and heavy to drive back the pain. “Hanavir could have gone a different way,” he said, interrupting Renn and ignoring the alarmed expressions around him, “but then there would have been more bloodshed. We have to save people where we can and when we can!” His pulse calmed as he exerted control over his rebellious heart. He sat back down, insisting he was all right, and quietly ate his beans.

Thorn, who had accompanied General Zimmer’s group, proudly told of how they had defeated a hundred and twenty armed soldiers outside of a mining village. She and her sister morazeth Lyesse compared notes about their victims. Nathan found their discussion an odd mixture of boasting and technical advice on killing the enemy.

With a concerned look, Verna offered him a handful of berries that Amber had gathered. “Is this our life now, Nathan? Hiding in the forest, harassing the fringes of an overwhelming army, and then running again?”

Lyesse heard the comment and made a defensive reply. “We’re more nimble than the army is. Our small group can strike and run, strike and run. Given several years, we will decimate them.”

“Dear spirits…” Nathan shook his head. “I don’t doubt your claim, but fools can be confident as well—and we can’t afford to be fools.”

Zimmer squatted on a rock across from them, wolfing down his meal. As a military commander he had eaten camp food for much of his life. “General Utros is now on the move. We saw them break camp and depart yesterday, marching across the valley into the foothills. It’s our job to stop them.”

Nathan pondered the great distances that he, Nicci, and Bannon had already traveled across the Old World. He didn’t downplay the tremendous dangers they had faced in their journeys—the Lifedrinker, the sorceress Victoria, the deadly secrets of Ildakar itself—but the unstoppable army of General Utros might be the greatest threat. “We can’t just endlessly strike and run. We may hurt them, or we may just annoy them. We need a better plan.”

Oron cracked his knuckles and said sarcastically, “Yes, why not find an invincible weapon or gather our own huge army? How do you suggest we do that, Nathan?”

“I do not appreciate your attitude.” He had washed his face, cleaned his garments, and actually felt presentable. That made him feel like a wizard again. “As a matter of fact, I do have an idea. We can obviously move much faster than the huge army, and our path will take us back to Cliffwall. The scholars there can help us find powerful magical defenses inside the archive. It may be our best chance. We’ll get there well ahead of General Utros.”

Peretta nudged Oliver, who sat next to her. “Yes! At Cliffwall, we can also train all those gifted scholars to fight.”

Prelate Verna had the same thought. “And once we’re hidden at Cliffwall, we’ll be safe from the army, at least for a time. Utros will never even know to go there.”

“It’s decided then,” Zimmer said. “We will move at our best pace back to Cliffwall.”

Lyesse and Thorn looked at each other, and then in an oddly synchronized gesture they removed their daggers and began to sharpen the edges on a nearby rock. “But we will still harass them and kill as many as possible on the way.”

“Yes,” Thorn agreed. “It only makes sense.”