Heart of Black Ice

CHAPTER 62

After she inspected the Tanimura garrison, Nicci and General Linden worked for days strengthening the city guard and pressing countless new recruits into service, many of them drawn from the refugees that had flooded the city after the Norukai attacks.

Hundreds of battered survivors came up the coast road from the south, people displaced from Effren and Larrikan Shores. Many were weak and saddened, seeking only stability in their lives. Others could not forget the blood and fire, the nightmare of the ruthless raiders, and they wanted to fight back. With nothing but threadbare clothes on their backs and the scabs of healing wounds, they desperately needed aid, but Serrimundi could absorb only so many refugees, since that city had itself suffered significant damage in Kor’s raid.

Up in Tanimura, Nicci listened to their stories, one after another. When she looked at the outraged survivors, she knew they could be forged into an army, which was exactly what the Old World needed. Calling upon her own determination, she rallied them in the Tanimura square. “Soon a full-fledged war will be upon us. Will you let the Norukai hunt you down and kill your families, or will you take up weapons and learn how to fight back?”

The resounding shouts nearly deafened her. She could see Linden’s surprise as he looked at the unexpected and earnest recruits for the army. Nicci gestured to the refugees. “The D’Haran garrison here will give you what you need, and I intend to set up training bases in Serrimundi as well, rally the blacksmiths and armorers in every city. We don’t have much time. Everyone needs to pull together. What happened in Effren must not happen again!”

She wanted to see the devastation for herself. With Linden’s permission, Nicci gathered fifty soldiers and a dozen angry refugees, then set off on a swift military ship, sailing south to Effren.

Two days later, reaching the black scar of the town, they anchored the swift ship offshore because all of the docks had been burned to the waterline. Nicci accompanied her group of soldiers and pale survivors, who clung to spiderweb-thin threads of hope that they might recover something from the ruins. Others simply wanted to bury their dead or at least lay markers for fallen friends and family members.

As Nicci walked through the ruins, her boots crunched on charred wood and the cracked bones of victims. Though the fires had burned out weeks before, the smell of soot and ash hung in the seaside air. Nicci imagined she could hear the lingering echoes of screams. The imprint of pain, violence, and suffering would remain here for years to come.

“Sweet Sea Mother,” muttered one of the guard recruits who had come from Serrimundi. “Those animals left nothing standing! Why would an army do this?” Soot smeared the side of his face where he had wiped away a tear. “If they meant to conquer Effren, why destroy it all? Why kill everyone? That is not how you win a war.”

“The Norukai come to pillage, not to rule,” she said. “You watched them attack Serrimundi Harbor. You know what they are.”

The recruit looked around the dead, silent ruins, appalled. “If we hadn’t stopped them, would they have done this to Serrimundi, too? To my city?”

“Without question. That is why we had to obliterate them. Captain Kor is dead, and not a single Norukai got away.” Warm pride filled her chest. “But Lars is still out there. We will have to crush them again, and again, until they learn their lesson.”

Nicci walked among the haunted forest of timbers, collapsed walls, charred rooftops of what had been a thriving town. She knew what Effren must have been like, a community of several thousand fishermen, boatbuilders, farmers, woodcutters, smiths, shopkeepers, traders. The town would have had taverns, inns, shops, stables, a marketplace. Now only ashes remained. The site was a dark stain, as if a bolt of lightning had erased the town from existence.

She and the soldiers walked slowly through the streets. Warm sun beat down through a hazy sky. The smoke was gone, but some of the recruits and refugees kept coughing, perhaps to hide their nausea and grief. She herself had helped defend the town of Renda Bay from another Norukai raid. In that instance, though, they had won.

Nicci remembered the Renda Bay cemetery, with many stone markers to indicate the dead who were buried there, as well as countless wooden posts bearing the names of those who had been taken by the Norukai. Nicci had learned to hate the scarred raiders then, and her opinion of them had not improved after she actually met Lars, Kor, and other Norukai traders who came to Ildakar to sell their pitiful slaves.

She entered the burned-out skeleton of what had been a tavern. One wall had collapsed, while two stone half walls remained intact. Nicci stepped gingerly through the rubble, absorbing the sense of the place and filling in details with her imagination. Blackened lumps had been tables and stools, a splintered counter. A sealed cask of ale had exploded when its contents boiled in the fire. Six skulls were readily visible, and she didn’t doubt they could find others if they sifted through the ashes.

“What are we going to do here, Sorceress?” asked the anxious recruit, who had followed her.

“I wanted to see with my own eyes.” She moved slowly, her black dress blending in with the burned ruins. Charcoal-encrusted beams had bent under the heat, looking like the bones of long-dead dragons. “And I wanted you all to remember that this is what the Norukai will do if we let them win.” She inhaled deeply, smelling the death and agony around her.

The recruit nodded. Now he had a smear of soot on his opposite cheek from a second tear.

“Do we rebuild?” a long-faced refugee asked. “Once we are strong again, should we try? Should we start now?” He turned around in the destroyed tavern, and it was obvious he remembered the place. “Will we have the heart to make Effren our home again?”

“Not until after the war,” Nicci said. “You would only be giving the Norukai something new to burn. For now, your best chance is to become fighters.” If Utros and his army were on the way, and if the ancient general had indeed joined forces with the Norukai, then the Old World would be awash in blood. And soon.

In burned-out homes they discovered several ghostlike squatters, villagers who had fled into the hills and now came back to the remains of their town, shocked and numb. Two battlefield surgeons tended to their injuries. Nicci hoped to toughen and recruit them for the new military force she was building.

She would have preferred that Richard lead the D’Haran army to fight at her side and crush both Utros and King Grieve. But Richard was counting on her, and Nicci would not let him down. He had sent her down to the Old World to pave the way for a new golden age of peace and prosperity, relying on Nicci to crush any upstart dictator or ill-advised tyrant.

She had never dreamed of the threat she faced now, a gigantic army from centuries past, and a raiding fleet of countless attack ships.

How could Richard’s small bone box be everything she needed? With a soot-stained hand, she slipped the little cube out of her pocket and looked at the etched letters in the language of Creation, felt the tingle in her fingers. Richard was a master of constructed spells and this one was tighter, more intricate than any she had seen. Through her gift, she could sense its potential, but not how it worked or what its purpose was. Nicci feared that its use was beyond her abilities, but Richard believed in her, so how could she do any less?

Who else could she ask? None of the other gifted in Tanimura had her breadth of knowledge, except perhaps some of the Sisters of the Light who remained in the city. The Sisters had eagerly scrutinized the artifact when Nicci asked their opinion, but despite their strong desire to help, none of the Sisters had offered any insight.

So it would have to be her. Opening the delicate lid, she studied the shimmering white sphere, the pulsing nugget of a constructed spell. “I can handle this,” she said as an affirmation to herself. She would figure it out, when the proper time came.

Still, she had a hard time maintaining her confidence as she gazed across the wasteland that had been a thriving town.

Before the war was over, there would be many more devastated towns. The people were fighting for their lives, their homes, their families. This Norukai raid had killed hundreds, maybe thousands, but the Effren tragedy would be like a sharp stick poking a coiled rattlesnake. Nicci intended to inspire all the survivors to strike back with sharp fangs.

Effren, Serrimundi, Larrikan Shores, and all the coastal cities would recover and thrive again. Nicci just had to save the world first.