Winterheim

16

She, Kerrick, Bruni, and Barq had descended the gently graded trail down to the floor of the Moongarden, and now they walked, entranced, among the stands of giant fungi, along the stone-lined bank of a rippling stream. The rest of the warriors were trailing behind, each stopping for a moment to gape in awe at this vast and illuminated garden.

At Kerrick’s suggestion, the fighters lingered behind in the shelter of a small grotto while the four companions scouted ahead.

“This Moongarden is huge-several square miles I’d say,” the elf ventured. “I see passages, a half dozen or more, going off to either side. Who knows where it all leads.”

Moreen nodded. She was thinking about all the food represented by these mushrooms, which resembled the little caps and stems that were so common in the groves and meadows of the Icereach. They grew almost overnight during the warming days of spring, and for three or four months they were gathered to form a staple of the Arktos diet. Her people even dried them so they could be stored throughout the cold months.

But here! She imagined that just one of the bigger mushroom-trees would have provide sustenance to all of Brackenrock for several days.

“It’s no wonder they can support a whole city underground,” she said. “They must farm this place, use it as a food warren all year around.”

“If this is a farm,” Bruni said, raising a hand in caution, “don’t you think we might run into some farmers?”

“Good point,” Barq agreed, scowling into the shadows of a particularly thick grow of giant fungus. “They might be watching us right now.”

“They might,” Kerrick said, “but I don’t think they are. I’ve been looking around, and-at this end of the Moongarden at least-I don’t see any sign of tending or cultivation. It’s as if all of this stuff just grows wild here.”

“It’s so big that maybe they don’t have to come this far to get what they need,” Moreen speculated. “After all, we have to assume that the city lies somewhere beyond the far end of this cavern, don’t we?”

“It has to be in that direction,” the elf agreed, pointing. “We haven’t come far enough from Icewall Pass to reach the mountain of Winterheim yet. I’m certain that we’re underground, maybe right under the Icewall, but still someplace between the pass and the city.”

“Well, we’re on the right path,” the chiefwoman declared. “We just have to keep moving.”

“How’s your face?” Bruni said, speaking to Barq as they ambled along. “Do those bruises still hurt?”

The big warrior put his hand to his nose and wiggled, then shook his head. “The old lady’s ointment’s good stuff. I can even breathe with my mouth closed again.”

“The power of Chislev Wilder,” Moreen remarked. “Dinekki has long been in favor with our goddess.”

“Perhaps we should find a place to rest while we’re still in the wild part of the Moongarden,” Kerrick said. “This might be our best chance to gather our strength and have plenty to eat, before we try to push on into Winterheim itself.”

“Good idea,” Moreen said. She turned to Kerrick and Bruni. “Over there looks like a nice grotto. It’s out of sight from the main cavern. I see signs of a waterfall, and it might be large enough to give us all some soft ground for sleeping.”

She led them along the bank of a rapid stream. Nearby, the uneven floor of the cavern rose from the ground level into a ten- or twelve-foot embankment, a ledge that would serve very well to conceal them. The clearing was small but flat, and a layer of lush moss cushioned the ground.

“This looks like a good place,” Kerrick offered. “There’s enough space for all of us to stretch out, make a camp, and still be out of sight.”

“I’ll have a look around,” Barq One-Tooth said. “Make sure we don’t have any neighbors.”

“Be careful you don’t meet the neighbors,” Moreen warned.

“No chance o’ that,” the Highlander snorted.

He stepped across the stream on several small, dry-topped stones, showing surprisingly nimbleness for his size. Three steps later he had disappeared between the trunks of the mushroom trees in the nearby grove.

In a few minutes the two Arktos women and the elf had dropped their packs and shucked their heavy boots. Moreen sat down and relished the feel of her feet immersed in the cold spring water flowing past. Nearby, Kerrick found a pool of comfortably warm water in which he quickly washed his hands, feet, face, and hair.

Bruni, meanwhile, was delegated to go back to get the rest of the war party. Rolling her broad shoulders, stretching after she relieved herself of the heavy load of her pack, she lumbered toward the entrance where Mouse waited with the others. Kerrick made himself comfortable, dropping on his back and closing his eyes.

Moreen felt refreshed and invigorated but not yet ready to bed down, so she decided to take a walk along the shore of the stream. She scrambled up a steep stretch of jumbled rock beside the small waterfall where the water spilled over the embankment.

She stopped in shock when she saw movement a short distance away, someone walking in a meadow beside the stream. Ducking down, she recognized the rounded shoulders and hulking size of a bull ogre. The creature, who carried a heavy whip, stopped suddenly and planted his hands on his hips.

“All right, Tookie, you get out here!” he barked.

Moreen gaped as a human girl suddenly stepped from the cover of the fungus grove, barely ten feet away. The youngster’s eyes flicked in panic to the chiefwoman, who was still concealed from the ogre’s view. The child turned to the ogre and stepped out of Moreen’s sight, but the Lady of Brackenrock could hear her clearly as she spoke.

“Yes, Master Harmlor. What do you want from me?”

The chiefwoman drew farther back, leaning against the stalk of a giant mushroom, her pulse pounding. She couldn’t see the girl any more but knew that the child had spotted her. Would she reveal the presence of intruders to the whip-wielding ogre? There was no way to know.

Turning back to the grotto, Moreen skidded down the stones of the steep embankment, dropping the last few feet into the meadow where her elf companion rested.

“Kerrick! Wake up!” she whispered urgently, kneeling beside the elf, nudging him.

A seasoned campaigner, he awakened without a loud expression of alarm and quickly snatched up his long sword. Moreen spotted Bruni off a short distance away, where the big woman had apparently stopped to wash up, and waved at her in agitation. Bruni came lumbering back, whispering

“What’s wrong?” as she drew close to her companions.

“There’s an ogre up there-and a human girl, a slave. She saw me then got called away by the ogre.”

The elf was already climbing, his sword held in his right hand. A few steps from the top he froze, and the chiefwoman looked past him and gasped.

The ogre she had observed moments before stood there, looking down at them with a wicked grin. The little girl was at his side, her arm clasped in his meaty hand as she tried to squirm away. His other hand held the long, sinuous whip in a relaxed, ready grip.

“What do we have? Mice or rats?” asked the ogre with a deep chuckle. He tossed the girl away contemptuously; she landed among the rocks and started to cry.

“You bastard!” Kerrick snarled, lunging.

The ogre was faster. The whip curled out and snapped loudly. Kerrick cried out and stumbled back, clutching his hand, as his sword dropped from his grip to fall between several of the jagged boulders.

“That’s enough o’ that,” barked the ogre. “You three waits right here, and ol’ Harmlor keeps an eye on ya. There’ll be help comin’ soon enough, then we’ll find outs where you needs to go.”

Bruni moved to the side, and the whip cracked again, snapping in the air before her face. “That’s enough, girl. Say, you’re a big one, aintcha? Kinda pretty, too-not a scrawny bag o’ bones, like most o’ you human wenches. You must get sick o’ these puny slave fellas.”

He laughed, an obscene bark of sound, and Moreen felt fury overwhelm her. She started forward, and when the whip came up again she glared at the ogre in defiance. Pointing at the whimpering girl, she spoke.

“I’m going to see if the little one’s all right.”

“Tookie? She’s fine, but go ahead. Just move slow.”

The chiefwoman reached between the rocks and lifted the girl free. The youngster cried out as her arm twisted, and Moreen saw that the bone was broken.

“I’ve got something that’ll help that,” she said.

“D-don’t hurt me,” sniffled Tookie. She glanced up at the ogre, her eyes wide with fright. “He made me show him where you where.”

“We won’t hurt you,” replied the woman, leading her to the pack containing Dinekki’s ointment. “Here, sit down.”

Moreen glanced up again and saw that Harmlor was watching her with amusement. She saw something else too and had to exert all of her will not to react as Barq One-Tooth came into view, advancing stealthily behind the hulking overseer. The Highlander had his axe in his hands, the weapon raised high as he crept closer with measured, deliberate steps.

Some scuff of a footstep gave him away, and at the last minute, the ogre spun about and roared. That whip snaked out, but the Highlander was too fast, charging forward in a bull rush, swinging his axe in a blow that slashed across Harmlor’s face and chest. With an incongruously high-pitched scream the ogre toppled backward, falling down the embankment to crash awkwardly onto the rocks.

He thrashed there, trying to get up, as Kerrick reached between the rocks to snatch up his dropped sword. At the same time Barq leaped down, following his first blow with a sweeping downward slash. The elf stabbed at the same time, and the ogre kicked once and died.

“You killed him!” gasped Tookie. “You can’t do that!”

“We had to do that,” Moreen said, “but I told the truth when I said we wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Why-why not? What do you want?” asked the girl tremulously.

“Well, we want to get into Winterheim,” replied the chiefwoman. “I wonder if maybe you can help us?”

Karyl Drago plodded tirelessly through the long, winding cavern. It had been years since he had gone all the way to Winterheim, but he remembered the way. Fortunately, there were only a very few alternate passages, most of them short dead ends. He checked each of these, determining that the intruders were not hiding there before lumbering back into the main cavern.

He found the remains of one camp, bones of many blindfish on the cavern floor and the cold ashes of their cookfires. Sniffing the bones, he ascertained that the bits of meat remaining there had not yet spoiled. He was no more than a day or so behind them.

Thoughts of the golden axe infused him with a growing sense of urgency as he continued on. That fire-those beautiful flames! The image burned freshly in his mind. The human woman who had wielded the axe was an enigma. She had displayed a fury and determination worthy of an ogress, and Karyl Drago could not bring himself to hate her. Though she as well as her companions had attacked him and had forced him from his duty, she deserved special attention-after her cohorts were killed, of course.

The big ogre’s thoughts did not go much deeper than this, but they burned hot and bright. He would find that axe, and then … he didn’t know what he would do. Worship it, perhaps? That seemed right.

He didn’t have to decide now. Instead, he simply plodded onward, winding through the long cavern, knowing that before long he would reach the Moongarden. The city was not far beyond that fertile warren. Even now, contemplating those wonders and glories, he could only think of that wonderful axe.

“I never saw a person kill an ogre before,” Tookie said to Barq One-Tooth, who muttered an awkward and unintelligible reply. “I’ve seen ogres kill people before. I don’t like to see that, but it happens. Old Harmlor, he mighta killed me, I think, when he threw me down.”

The girl rubbed her arm, which Moreen had liberally smeared with Dinekki’s healing ointment. “It doesn’t even hurt any more! Was that stuff magic? I never had any magic touch me before! I only see magic when the queen does it, and then it’s pretty scary.”

“Yes, this is good magic,” the chiefwoman said gently. “It was made for us by a nice lady, a grandmother of our tribe.” She tousled the child’s black hair, noting the dark skin and deep brown eyes. “Your tribe too, I think. You’re an Arktos girl, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Tookie replied. “I’m a slave girl, I guess.”

“Are your mother and father slaves, too?” Kerrick asked.

She shook her head. “They’re dead is what they are. My mom died when I was born, and my father …” Her eyes teared, and she sniffled, then tossed her head and glared at the elf as if challenging him. “He was killed by an ogre.”

“I’m sorry,” Kerrick said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“How come your ear is so big, the one, I mean? The other looks like it got cut off or something.”

The elf flushed. Moreen knew that he had been scarred by his own king on the night of his exile from Silvanesti, stricken with a sword that sliced away half of his distinctive elven ear. The chiefwoman didn’t even notice the mark any more, but now and then she noticed Kerrick touching it, his face an unreadable mask.

“It was cut off,” he replied, still keeping his tone soft. “The other one is long because that’s the way an elf’s ear is supposed to look.”

“You’re an elf?” Tookie’s eyes widened. “I thought elves were scary!”

“I can be scary,” Kerrick insisted, scowling for a moment before breaking into a smile, “but I like you.”

“I guess I like you, too. That was pretty brave the way you stabbed that ogre.” She turned back to Barq, who was still scrubbing ogre blood off of his axe blade. “You too. If you hadn’t fought old Harmlor, all of you would have been in big trouble.”

The girl paused for a moment, looking at the companions one at a time, then turned to Moreen. “You know, I think you still might be in big trouble. They’re going to notice when Harmlor doesn’t come back to the garrison.”

“Yes, we were thinking that too. Do you know, is there some way we could get away from here so that when they come looking for Harmlor they don’t find us here?”

The girl nodded quickly. “I could take you to the slave barracks at the warrens.” She frowned. “Everyone would know you were strangers, though. Some of them might tell the ogres.”

“That wouldn’t do-and we don’t want to get you in trouble, either.”

The girl’s eyes fell to the ground. “Actually, I’m already in trouble. Harmlor, he was looking for me. You see, I’m not supposed to come in here on my own, but I just like the Moongarden so much. It’s my favorite place in the world. The masters want me to run errands all the time, back and forth, to the Posting House, mainly. That’s so boring. I wanted to come in here and wander around in the fungus forest.”

The elf knelt before Tookie and looked the girl in the eyes. “What about this Posting House? Is that in Winterheim?”

“Yep. Up in the middle. It’s where they bring all the slaves when they first come here or when they get old enough to be sent off to a job. Tildy Trew is the boss up there, and she’s nice.”

“Do you suppose you could take us there? Without us having to talk to ogres on the way?” asked Kerrick.

“Well, I could try. There’s a path from the Moongardens that goes into the city, and it comes in right by the Posting House. I go there a lot, taking messages. If you were with me, I could say you were slaves, but you’d have to hide your swords and stuff.”

“We could do that,” Moreen said. “There are more of us over there near the cave leading in.” The chiefwoman had another thought. “We’re looking for a new slave, a man who was brought to Winterheim a few weeks ago. His name is Strongwind Whalebone. Have you seen him, or anyone that might be him?”

The girl’s face wrinkled in concentration as she gave the matter some thought. “I don’t think so. I didn’t see any new slaves come in this summer, but I don’t see lots of things, since I live in the Warren Barracks.”

“Is the Posting House where they bring new slaves?” pressed the chiefwoman.

“Yes. Tildy Trew might know about this Strongwing Whale. Shall we go to see her?”

“As soon as we can pack up our equipment, yes,” Moreen said. “Tell me, could we hide our weapons somewhere too?”

“Sure. Come with me to the other end of the warren-there are food baskets that we use for harvesting. You can put your stuff in them and hide it pretty good.” She pointed at the Axe of Gonnas, the blade wrapped in burlap as it jutted from Bruni’s pack. “I don’t know about that big hatchet, though.”

“Well, please take us there,” Moreen said. “Bruni, will you go back and tell the others. They can hide in the grotto while we try to work out a plan. Tookie, are you ready to go now?”

The girl nodded with great dignity, then watched seriously as they packed up their gear, hoisted their packs, and made ready to go. “Aren’t you going to hide Harmlor?” she asked.

“Good idea,” Barq said. Tookie watched impassively as Bruni and Barq pulled the big corpse down the rest of the rocky embankment. They rolled several large rocks over the ogre’s body.

“This way,” the girl said. “You follow along behind me a little bit, okay? I can let you know if someone’s coming and you have to hide.”

“She’s just a little girl. Do you think we can trust her?” whispered Kerrick to Moreen as they started out.

“Yes, I do,” the chiefwoman said. She was impressed, even awed, by the child’s casual courage as the waif led them out of the Moongarden.