Soldiers of Ice

Sixteen

The granary was empty except for Martine, Jazrac, and a handful of Vani who had volunteered to cover the retreat. They’d already barred the door with barrels of supplies and bags of flour. Martine knew the barrier couldn’t hold up to Vreesar’s icy blasts, but she had no doubt it would slow down the Burnt Fur. At their backs, snow blew into the room through Jazrac’s magical passageway.

“Get going, Jazrac. Use your ring to go and get more help,” Martine said once she was satisfied that everyone else was gone. “We’ll cover you.”

“I’m staying with you.”

Martine grimaced. “Look, this could get bloody. I don’t need any fake heroics now. Besides, we need you to go back to Shadowdale and get help dealing with Vreesar.”

“That can wait. Vreesar is here right now, and I don’t think he’ll leave until he’s done with us all. Like you, my dear, I choose my troubles,” Jazrac said with his old confidence. “I’m not running away this time. You need me.” He pushed her up the magical passage. “If we don’t get moving now, we’ll all be trapped.”

Martine threw her hands up in despair. “Fine. Play hero then.” She turned to face the Vani. “It’s time to leave, everybody!” The gnomes quickly scurried up the hall Jazrac had parted through the hillside:

As the wizard followed the little warriors, Martine said, “I appreciate your offer, Jazrac, but do me a favor. Be careful out there.”

Jazrac struck an attitude of mock pride, with one hand pressed to his chest. “Me? I shall be in no danger, my dear. I am still quite capable of taking on a few ignorant gnolls.”

Martine had to smile at the wizard’s display of confidence. “Just don’t get carried away—for old friendship’s sake, okay?”

“For… old friendship’s sake.” “The wizard savored the words like a Chessentian wine merchant before giving his grandest bow and departing. Martine wistfully watched him go up the passage: She was surprised to realize she still felt some respect for the man. After one last check of the storeroom, she, too, hurried up the passage.

Jazrac’s spell had opened a route cleanly through to the outside, where the storm still raged, its fury unabated. The trampled path of the refugees was already half drifted over. Martine paused.

“Do we follow the others?” shouted Ojakangas, her second-in-command, pointing to the trail.

Martine shook her head. “Not yet. There’s a rope in my pack. Get it out.” She stooped to allow Ojakangas to reach inside and draw out the looped coils. Taking the rope, the ranger passed the length along to each warrior. “Hang on to it,” she said, “so you don’t get lost.” With that, she drew her sword, ready for the fight she knew would come.

“I’ll go ahead. When you feel a pull, follow me and stay close!” Without wasting any more precious seconds, she plunged into storm, feeding out line as she went.

Without skis, the Harper blundered through the snow, stumbling in the footprints made by those who had passed through previously. At last she reached the end of the rope and tugged to signal the others forward. After several minutes, the rest of the rear guard had all joined her. “Any sign of the gnolls?” she asked Ojakangas.

“None.”

“The gods must still like us a little bit,” the Harper said with a frozen grin.

“Indeed. Thanks be to the Great Crafter,” answered the black-bearded Vani.

Three times the group repeated the procedure. Each time, Ojakangas reported no sign of pursuit. Then the storm stopped with eerie suddenness. At first Martine thought she had finally reached the blizzard’s edge, but that wasn’t it The storm had simply stopped.

“Our escape has been discovered!” Martine called to those behind her. “Come here and find cover!” The gnomes lumbered through the snow to join her. As each arrived, she silently pointed out a position to keep watch. Jazrac she kept close at hand. If the wizard didn’t break again, his spells were her best asset.

“When this is over, you get yourself back to Shadowdale. Understand?” It was simply too much risk having the wizard out here fighting. They needed him to bring reinforcements.

Jazrac held up his hands. “Don’t worry. I have no desire to do this more than once.”

Hiss… thunk! An arrow tore at the sleeve of Martine’s parka, spiraling madly into the thick trunk behind her. There it hummed angrily as the shaft quivered in the wood.

“Down!” she shouted, throwing her shoulder into her companion’s side. She acted instinctively, with no thought of the man’s dignity. The pair flopped ludicrously into the snow.

“What in the hells—”

Hiss! Hiss! Several more shafts whipped overhead, right where they had been standing. One struck the same tree with a solid thwack, while the others clattered off into the branches beyond. A gout of snow kicked up as another arrow tunneled into the snowbank beside them.

In a twinkling, Martine tumbled off to one side. She saw Jazrac roll the other way, not a moment before the icy ground was churned by a fusillade of arrows. No more than twenty yards distant knelt three lanky gnolls, already drawing a bead on her.

Eschewing caution, the warrior woman sprang to her feet and charged the doglike archers, high-stepping through the snow as she screamed a war cry. With one hand, she whirled her sword over her head; in the other, her knife flashed in the dusky light. She heard the harsh music of a bowstring being released, but the shot went wide. The second and third fired, and Martine gave a start when an arrow hit her gut just below her sternum. The metal armor she wore saved her, glancing the rough forged arrowhead off to the side.

Her seeming invulnerability was enough to shatter the resolve of the gnolls. The lead archer threw down its bow and ran, bolting an instant before her sword swiped through the air where it had stood. The other two broke rank with barking yips of terror as the wildly howling woman descended upon them. The tip of her blade carved a long slash through the ragged cloak of one, but the creatures managed to escape. Her battle lust departed with them, leaving her feeling drained and bewildered.

There was a huffing behind her, and Martine nearly thrust her blade into Jazrac’s stomach before she realized who it was. “Hold!” the man cried. “Save it for the gnolls!”

Pushing her aside, the wizard traced a figure in the air, and from his fingers leapt a series of sparkling motes of light. They rocketed toward the knolls, sizzling the air as they went. Two struck the nearest dog-man in the back, spewing out gouts of blood as if it had been struck by arrows. Two more struck the second, reeling it around in a circle, but the creature staggered on. The last dodged and darted through a stand of saplings to strike the third full in the face just as it turned to fire another shot. The beast howled and dropped its bow, fingers clutching blindly at its shattered muzzle.

“Jazrac, get back!” Martine blurted, her battle instincts alerted by the sound of sprinting footsteps through snow. In a single move, she spun to face a charging gnoll, little more than a shadow against the snow. With one arm, she thrust out in a long lunge while her body ducked low beneath the creature’s high swing. Thwack! The dog-man’s blade hewed into wood, hacking splinters from the tree trunk beside the wizard’s head. The Harper’s sword drove into the beast’s chest, and the gnoll’s momentum almost toppled her before the blade slithered through its ribs.

The gnoll’s muzzle dropped open to show a fanged maw. There was a gurgling hiss as the flopping body slid down the length of her blade. Even impaled clear through, the creature wasn’t finished. One scabrous arm, reeking like sewage, swung out awkwardly for her, clipping the woman in the side of her helmet. Thick claws gouged futilely at the metal.

With a quick flip of her other hand, the ranger slashed out with a dagger. She aimed high, just under the dogman’s muzzle, and was rewarded when warmth soaked her sleeve and the gnoll’s head lolled stupidly. Twisting, she let the creature fall. With one foot on its chest, she tried to pull her sword free, but the blade was stuck fast for the moment Even as Martine dispatched her foe, the others were embroiled in battle. Though she held only a knife, Martine unhesitatingly threw herself at the nearest creature, a big brute who had cornered Jazrac. The wizard didn’t stand a chance in close combat and had only managed to survive by dodging behind a tree trunk. Preoccupied with Jazrac, the dog-man was blindsided by Martine’s rush. With a pushing stroke, she drew her blade across the beast’s belly, slicing through layers of fur to the flesh beneath it The startled gnoll tipped back its wolfish head and howled in astonished pain, leaving itself wide open to attack. Before Martine could strike again, Jazrac lashed out with his dagger. His grip was awkward, and the wizard left himself wide open to a counterstrike, but it didn’t matter. “The blade dug into the gnoll’s chest, and the creature sank to its knees, gasping for life. Martine seized its helm and twisted its head back to deliver a quick coup de grace.

Swallowing, Martine stood a moment until her heart stopped pounding. Breaths of raw air burned her throat, but until the panic of the moment passed, gasping gulps of air were all she could manage.

Almost as quickly as it began, the battle was over. By the time the two humans were able to join the gnomes, the Vani’s skirmishes were ended. A quick assessment revealed three wounded, two minor and one serious one. He was a youth named Yannis, who had been hit in the gut by two arrows. That was bad enough, but worse still by Martine’s estimation was the fact that at least one gnoll had gotten away. Already the baying of the hunters was closing through the wood.

“We’re not going to make it,” a little bearded warrior grunted. “Not with Yannis wounded. You and the others make for the mustikka.” He pointed toward a thicket of blueberry bushes off to the left.

“And you?”

“I will delay them.”

“No, not you. Me.” Jazrac stepped forward.

“You, human?” Ojakangas said. He spat into the snow. “You ran from battle.”

“I’m not running this time, and I have a better chance than you. My spells can take out more gnolls than your sword can.”

“Ojakangas,” Martine said impulsively, “take Yannis and the others to the cabin. “I’ll stay here. The wizard goes with you.”

“No, Martine—”

“I’m going to get you back alive, Jazrac,” Martine promised as she wiped her blade clean. “We still need you to get help. Ojakangas, Jazrac… get going.”

Jazrac didn’t move: “No. You go. I’m staying here.” Martine was about to protest, then hesitated. It was Jazrac’s choice and the noblest thing he had done so far. For all his faults, the man was still her superior, and she couldn’t deny him this chance to regain his own selfesteem.

The Vani had already completed a makeshift drag for the wounded Yannis.

“Get going,” she ordered.

“Good luck, wizard,” Ojakangas called back as he started off.

“Remember, I need you alive, Jazrac,” the junior Harper said simply. “Mat was the plan.”

“Plans change. A Harper has to be flexible. Now go.” The gnomes had barely entered the edge of the thicket when the baying started up, close at hand. At the rear of the group, Martine lingered at the edge of the clearing, knowing she should stay with Jazrac. She saw the wizard turn, and for an instant, the ranger thought he was going to change his mind, but instead Jazrac turned toward the sounds of baying in the woods beyond and raised his arms. Twisted words flew from his lips, and a small flaming sphere formed between his fingers, then rocketed between the trees. Jazrac didn’t wait to see it hit but ducked low. Deep in the woods, the sphere burst into a fiery globe. The woods rattled with the crackling hiss of fire, and the air was permeated with the scent of burnt pine needles:

The searing flames roiled outward, catching several gnolls in its fiery wash. Fur and cloth, heated to the flash point, erupted in fire, and the screaming creatures flailed helplessly about like macabre torches. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the fire faded, leaving only a round melted scorch in the earth.

Even as the wizard was preparing to cast another spell, Martine caught a glimpse of silvery white movement through the trees off to the left Madly she abandoned the gnomes and charged across the snow, trying to angle between Jazrac and the icy white form she knew was Vreesar.

“Jazrac! Look out!”

Martine barely had time to see the elemental raise its hands before a blue-white sparkle flashed from its fingers straight for her. The Harper dodged to the right without thinking, and the air cracked loudly as a beam of bitter frost crackled across the gap between them. Intense cold coursed like galvanizing fire along her limbs and lanced at her joints till her body curled and spasmed. A violent shock wave and a deafening thunderclap followed immediately, the air shattered by the precipitous drop in temperature. The Harper crashed into the snow, her body paralyzed, her ears screaming from the reverberations of the blast.

Wheeling away from the icy streak the bolt had carved across the snowfield, the elemental turned on Jazrac. The wizard snarled something unintelligible to Martine’s ringing ears, and another series of fiery sparks flew from his hand straight toward the fiend. The buzz of the creature’s laughter filled the forest as the dazzling sparks faded before they reached their target.

“Your magic iz uselez against me, human,” the elemental buzzed evilly.

It was as if the words were a signal, for out of the woods advanced a line of gnolls. Their clothes were ragged furs. Some wore conical caps with dangling earflaps; a fortunate few had helms: Jaws agape and panting steamy air, they closed in for the kill.

Martine heaved to her feet and drew her sword. She still felt weak and unsettled from the icy bolt she’d barely avoided. She knew she couldn’t afford to be struck by another one of those, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Jazrac needed her help. She stumbled toward him unsteadily.

Two gnolls closed on her, hoping to trap the Harper between them. Her attackers quickly discovered they had miscalculated. Even with her nerves still twitching, Martine easily evaded their unschooled blows, although she couldn’t prevent them from flanking her on two sides. Even then she managed to hold them off, alternating lightning-quick thrusts from one side to the other. A swift lunge sliced the arm of one, sending him reeling back. That break in tempo gave her a chance to cast a look back toward Jazrac. The stalking line of gnolls had begun to charge, leaping through snowy drifts with yipping cries. Vreesar held back, apparently preferring to let the gnolls do its fighting. The dogmen knew their prey and sought to close the distance so their swords would have the advantage over the mage’s spells.

“Jazrac, look out!” Martine screeched.

The wizard looked up and then jabbed a finger of warning off toward her left. Concerned about Jazrac, she’d ignored her own predicament. The unwounded gnoll was crashing through the knee-deep snow, axe swung back to the side like a bare-knuckle fighter about to throw a two-fisted roundhouse. The Harper dropped to one knee as the axehead whistled over her head, ruffling her hair. With a quick flip, she turned her sword and rammed it backhand into the gnoll’s gut. The blade drove in with virtually no resistance till it hit bone.

The gnoll shrieked and continued its charge, blind momentum carrying it forward. Martine leaned backward to avoid the blundering beast, fiercely clinging to the sword hilt as the creature tumbled forward. She wrenched the blade sideways and twisted until the dog-man had spun almost completely around. Rolling back into the snow, she then planted one foot up against the gnoll’s midsection, just below her blade, and kicked outward. The gutted gnoll tumbled backward, axe flailing, and her blade slid free, hot blood steaming in the frigid winter air. Her attacker writhed in the snow, yowling mindlessly.

Martine’s other attacker, clutching its bloodied arm, broke and fled as she rose to her feet, chosing not to face her again.

Somehow Jazrac seemed to be holding his own, but the gnolls were pressing him hard on three sides. Suddenly the wizard put his hands to his mouth and uttered a tremendous roar, inconceivably loud. All along a spreading line, ice in the trees shattered and fell through the branches. Two of the dog-men, injured by the magical blast, clutched at their bloodied ears and flopped helplessly to the ground, while another staggered back, dazed.

Neither Martine nor the wizard waited to assess the results. As she plowed forward to dispatch the gnoll Jazrac had staggered, the wizard abruptly took flight just in time to avoid Vreesar’s slashing claws.

To Martine’s relief, the wizard shot upward. With Jazrac out of danger, she could concentrate on her own battles. She was alone now, facing Vreesar and half a dozen of the enemy. One was dying, one had fled, and two were crippled, at least for the time being. That left the one staggering from the effects of the magical sound blast and another somewhere off to her left. The fiend was the greatest threat, but he seemed more obsessed with Jazrac than her.

Hovering in midair, the wizard’s hands flew as he worked another spell. This time flaming darts appeared in his hands, and he hurled these at the elemental. Unlike his earlier effort, these did not fade but struck the fiend solidly. The icy creature shrilled in pain as the fire burned into it, and the unfinished magic it had been forming crackled uselessly in the air.

Martine was like the cold reaper collecting its due. A quick slash at the hamstrings of the staggering foe removed him from the fight. Moving past one of those the wizard had bloodied, Martine delivered a swift kick to its jaw, rocking its head with a satisfying snap, even as she faced off against the remaining uninjured foe. “Jazrac!” she bellowed, her hearing finally starting to return to normal. “How are you doing?”

“Holding my own!” The wizard twirled in midair, his arm raised to cast a spell even as Vreesar finished forming another of its potent ice spheres.

“Jazrac, look out!”

The icy sphere shot toward its target with a whoosh and struck the hovering wizard full in the chest. Without an anchor to hold him, Jazrac hurtled backward, encased in a blue, crackling aura, trailing frostlike sparks until he slammed into a thick pine with a sickening thud. Even as he ricocheted limply from the trunk, another sphere rocketed forth, grazing the wizard and throwing him into a tumble before tearing away half of the thick tree trunk. Wood and ice splinters showered into the snow, stinging Martine as they hit.

The wizard crashed to earth with an inert flop, gouging the icy ground in a smear of black ash and red blood.

Heedless of the gnolls, heedless of falling shards, heedless of Vreesar, even heedless of the teetering pine tree wavering dangerously on its half-shattered trunk, Martine crashed through the drifts to the fallen wizard’s side. The Harper lay in a broken tangle, his back twisted in a way that was totally unnatural. His clothes were white and frostcoated, his finery brittle. The air smelled of blood and death. Martine didn’t bother checking further. She knew there was no point.

“Son of a bitch!” she screamed in the direction of the elemental. Her view of the fiend was blocked by the trees, but that had probably saved her up to this point. Martine quickly scanned the distance to where she thought she saw Vreesar, trying to guess the best route to close on the monster.

Crack! Crack! Crack! All thoughts of attack were cut short by a rapid series of splintering sounds overhead as the cold-blasted pine sheared loose. The shattered trunk swung outward, ripping away other branches as it fell. Another tree cracked and groaned as its shallow roots gave way, unable to support the weight of the fallen giant. The forest rang with the echoes of splintering wood. A mass of dark green and snowy white descended into the gap between the two adversaries, driving Martine back from Jazrac’s corpse. The two trees crashed to earth in flumes of pine needles and snow. The grit of broken bark stung her eyes.

“Woman!” Vreesar’s voice buzzed over the fading roar. “Thank you for the stone! I leave you now to get my brotherz!” From far off, she heard Vreesar’s buzzing laughter as the elemental faded into the night. “Tell the little onez I will be back!”