by David Debord
“I’ll bet that was the Ice King’s plan all along.” Heztus pounded a fist into his palm. “Keep the nations of the north occupied while he wreaks havoc in the south.”
“But why the south? What makes us so special?” Shanis asked.
Bertram fixed her with an incredulous look. “You are special. You are the bearer of the Silver Serpent. He will see you as the greatest threat in the world, perhaps the only threat.”
“Well then, if he’s coming after me, I guess I’d better be ready. Summon the Council. Tell them we are going to war.”
Chapter 43
“I can see the city from here,” Naseeb called down from his perch high in a chanbor tree. “We’re almost there.”
“Thank the gods. My backside hasn’t hurt this much since the time the city guardsman caught me cutting his purse,” Lizzie grumbled.
“He didn’t have your arrested?” Whitt asked.
“I was only a little girl. I cried and pouted and managed to convince him I was a desperate, hungry orphan. He decided to teach me a lesson before letting me go. Of course, I think he enjoyed it. That spanking went on and on.”
Oskar cleared his throat, interrupting this latest of Lizzie’s uncomfortably honest tales.
“I think we should wear our cloaks. We might find it easier to get to Larris if we look like saikurs.”
“I hate to break it to you,” Dacio said, “but none of us fit the bill. At best we look like what we are—young men trying to pass as seekers.”
“We are more than that. We have trained and, if need be, we could show them a thing or two to prove ourselves.” Naseeb swung down from the tree and landed nimbly on his feet. “In any case, I think Oskar’s idea is a sound one. It can’t hurt.”
As they approach the city they could see the signs of a recent battle: trampled earth, craters caused by war machines, broken arrows and spear shafts, and the occasional body that had been overlooked. It was a grim sight, but Oskar knew things would only be worse during the Frostmarch.
The travelers they had encountered along the way had all told differing stories, but with a few common threads. Everyone agreed that the Kyrinians had nearly overrun the city but Prince Lerryn, now King Lerryn, had arrived in time to save the day. The Kyrinian force had withdrawn and the refugees who had swamped the city during the war were gradually returning to their homes.
A line of people waited at the city gates, but Oskar steered his horse around them and rode to the front of the line.
“What are you doing? The line ends back there.” Dacio pointed back behind them.
“Real saikurs would not wait in line and neither will we.”
“Oskar, I think I am finally rubbing off on you,” Lizzie said approvingly.
Oskar grinned but quickly set his jaw and adopted the expression of serenity that he had seen on so many faces inside the Gates. He reined in before a stuffy-looking soldier whose silver armband indicated he was an officer. The man’s sharp eyes fell on Oskar. He prepared himself for the inevitable argument, but to his surprise, the officer nodded and waved them through.
“You’re all gathering at the palace,” he said. “The guards there will tell you where, exactly.” He returned to his business, leaving the surprised group to ride on through.
“That was easy,” Whitt said when they were out of earshot of the guards. “I wonder what he meant by ‘you’re all gathering at the palace’?”
“I’m not sure,” Oskar said.
“Just when I pay you a compliment you go and say something like that.” Lizzie shook her head.
“What you talking about?”
“Think about it. The only thing he knows about us is that the three of you are wearing brown robes. Obviously, all the men wearing brown robes are gathering in the palace.” She paused, staring at Oskar. “Please don’t make me explain it any further. I might have to reconsider my feelings for you if you do.”
“No, I understand. It should have been obvious.”
“The saikurs who fled are gathering here,” Naseeb said. “That could be interesting.”
Whitt cocked his head and frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, are we still part of the gates? Are we under their authority? Will they treat us like the novits and initiates that we are?”
“I don’t care how they treat me as long as they don’t try to stop me from seeing Larris,” Oskar said.
Lizzie grinned. “You know, I wasn’t sure I believed your stories about being friends with a prince. I guess I’m about to find out whether or not you’re full of wind.”
“You thought I was lying? Why didn’t you say something?”
“It didn’t really matter to me. Everyone in my line of work lies all the time. I enjoyed your stories and that’s what mattered. If it turns out you are telling the truth, I’m going to have to find a way to make amends for my lack of trust.” The smile she directed his way made him warm under the collar and he decided to let the subject drop.
It was a long ride through crowded streets to the palace gates. Here the guards were better dressed and more attentive to their duties.
“I’ll need your names, ranks, and where each of you is from. The seekers will send someone to verify your identities,” a guard outside the palace gates explained.
“I need to get a message to Prince Larris,” Oskar said. “He will want to see me as soon as possible.”
The guard looked as if he were about to laugh, but his smile faded quickly. “Your leaders have been meeting regularly with King Lerryn and the Regis. If you have a message for someone in the royal family, send it through them.”
Oskar gritted his teeth. It seemed that getting to Larris was going to be harder than he had hoped. He was considering just riding on through when a voice rang out from the crowd behind him.
“Oskar! Is it really you?” He turned and saw a tall, fair-haired young man pushing his way through the crowd toward him.
“Hierm!” He slid down off his horse and hurried to meet his old friend. Oskar introduced Hierm to his friends. He saved Lizzie for last and Hierm flashed a knowing grin at him.
“What are you doing here?” Hierm asked.
“There was an insurrection at the Gates. We managed to get away.”
“I heard. Seekers have been arriving in the city for a few days now. I guess you’ve come to meet up with them?”
“Actually I need to see Larris as soon as possible.” He lowered his voice. “It has to do with Shanis.”
Hierm’s face darkened. “I can get word to Larris. I’m known to most of the people in the palace. It’s a long story,” he added. “Why don’t you wait for him at our house? We have plenty of room and I could introduce you to my son.”
Oskar could not suppress the feeling of trepidation that came over him as he stepped into the Van Derins’ home. When he had last seen Mistress Faun, he was nothing but a simple farm boy who worked for her husband mostly in order to sneak books out of his personal library. Faun had always looked down her nose at him and had treated him like a simpleton, a fiction he maintained so she would not suspect his actual motive for working there.
It was to his great surprise that, upon seeing him, she hurried over to him and caught him up in a tearful embrace. Awkwardly, he patted her on the back.
“I was sorry to hear about Lord Hiram,” he managed.
“Thank you,” Faun said pulling away and dabbing her eyes with the hem of her apron. She looked up at him and smiled. “Just look at you. You are no longer the boy who left Galsbur. Your parents would be proud to see what a fine young man you’ve grown into, and a seeker at that!”
For a moment, Oskar considered explaining to her that he was not yet a full-fledged saikur, but that didn’t seem important right now. He introduced Lizzie, whom Faun also embraced. Whitt, Naseeb, and Dacio had decided to join the rest of the seekers in the palace.
“You are most welcome,” Faun said. “Now come, there is someone you’ll want to see.” She took him b
y the hand and led him and Lizzie through the house to a back garden. Stunned by Faun’s transformation, Oskar followed along a bemused grin on his face.
Outside, he found Rinala holding her baby and chatting with two men. One was Hierm’s brother Laman. The other was a dark haired brute of a man.
“Colin!” he exclaimed.
Shanis’ father threw back his head and laughed when he saw Oskar.
“Who is this man in the brown robe? He looks like Oskar Clehn, but Oskar was a shy fat boy. This one looks like he can handle himself.” He closed the distance between them in two strides and caught him and Lizzie up in a crushing embrace. “I hoped you were still alive. After what happened at the Gates we couldn’t be sure.”
“It was a close thing, but I managed to get away in time. Hierm tells me that Shanis has done well for herself.”
“Indeed. She has finally claimed her rightful crown.”
“Did you know all along? About the prophecy, I mean?” Oskar asked.
Colin nodded. “I knew she was descended from Badla on her mother’s side, and that it was possible she could be the one. I hoped that by giving her a normal life in Galsbur she might avoid that fate, but I suppose it was meant to be.”
“Is that why you let her learn the sword when it was something no other girl ever did?”
“She had to be ready, just in case.”
“I imagine there is going to be a great deal of reminiscing tonight,” Laman interrupted. “I’ll pour us some drinks.”
By the time evening fell, Oskar had washed off the trail dust, changed into clean clothes, and spent the day playing with the baby, whom they had named Hiram after Hierm’s deceased father, and catching up with his old friends. Faun had actually coaxed Lizzie into a dress, which was cut so low in the front that Oskar couldn’t look at her without blushing. They had spent the day eating, drinking, laughing, and forgetting about the world for a few hours. For her part, Lizzie went out of her way to draw forth as many embarrassing stories of Oskar’s youth as she could, and the other Galsburans were happy to comply.
More than once he reflected on how much things had changed. They were equals now, no more lords and commoners. And the change that had come over Faun was nothing short of remarkable. He supposed it was a combination of the death of her husband and the birth of her grandson that had done the trick. Whatever the reason, he was glad of it. He almost felt like he was home again.
It was near dark when Larris and Allyn arrived, bringing Aspin along with them. Like the others, they teased Oskar about the changes that travel and his time at the Gates had wrought in him, and they enjoyed drinks and laughter until it was time to get down to serious business.
“Things are coming to a head,” Aspin said without preamble. “The Ice King has risen once more. He has raised an army and intends to begin his conquest in the south. We don’t know if he is on the move yet, but if not, he will be soon.”
“Do you think he is going after Shanis?” Oskar asked
Aspin nodded. “We believe he sees her as his only real threat.”
“Does she know?”
“Yes. As you are aware, we have means of communication far superior to messengers on horseback, and far quicker too. We are in contact with her. She is gathering her forces and intends to ride out and meet him.”
“She will not be alone,” Larris said. “Lerryn has decreed that Galdora stands with her. Our troops march in the morning.”
“And what of the other nations? Will they support her?” Oskar asked.
“We are doing our best to convince them that this is the battle that truly matters,” Aspin said. “But it is difficult when they are under attack as well. I have at least managed to convince all the saikurs who have gathered in Archstone to join us. Also, Shanis founded a school of magic in Calmut, mostly witches, but those who have the skill will fight for us as well.” He took a deep breath. “Can I dare hope that you were successful in the task to which I set you?”
“I have had some success, but I don’t know how much it helps us.” Oskar described what he had learned about the nature of the Silver Serpent. Next, he produced Dacio’s translation of the rubbings he’d made of the walls in Murantha. His friend had pieced it all together during their travels. Oskar read aloud.
“And the gods whom we worshiped had become like a curse upon the nations. They warred over petty causes until we feared the world would be torn apart. And the kings and queens of Gameryah gathered in the holy place. Before the sword, they stood and spoke the words, I freely give my life. Sarala spoke the words and surrendered her life upon the blade of the sword, and in the moment of her noble sacrifice she reached out to Vesala. And the temple shook as Vesala was drawn into the sword, for only by the power of ultimate sacrifice could a human impose his will upon a god...”
“It goes on like that, listing the monarchs who gave up their lives in order to draw the gods into the sword.” He paused. “In the chamber where we found the Silver Serpent, we also found the tombs of all the Kings of Gameryah who are mentioned here. So, the Silver Serpent was not a weapon used in the Godwars. Its creation is what ended the Godwars.”
“And I’ll bet the absence of the gods is what opened the door for the Ice King,” Larris said. “The first Frostmarch happened right on the heels of the end of the Godwars. But does this knowledge bring us any closer to defeating the Ice King?”
They all exchanged dark looks and a brooding silence fell upon the group. Finally, Aspin stood.
“I have always believed in the prophecy and that things happen in the way they are intended for reasons that we do not understand. Therefore, I believe that this knowledge came to you because it was intended to, and for that reason, I think it will help us.”
“We should all get some rest,” Larris said. “We have a long road ahead of us.”
Chapter 44
Everywhere he went men stood in his path. Karst wanted to pull his hair out in frustration. As soon as The Ice King had issued his command, Karst had left to fulfill his mission. Perhaps he should have taken the time to plan, but the compulsion to kill Shanis Malan overwhelmed him. He could think of little else. Even the simplest things, like eating or stopping to rest, were far from his thoughts and required a supreme effort of will to perform.
Though he had hoped to complete the mission immediately, his best efforts had been stymied. The roads leading to the west were regularly patrolled by the enemy so he had been forced to take to the woods. The forest had soon given way to swamps. Not knowing the way through, he resorted to making a beeline toward that distant place where he somehow knew Shanis was. This had led him through some of the worst foulness he had ever encountered.
He had lost his horse in a pool of quakewater and barely escaped with his life. He been stung, bitten, and his skin was afire with nasty rashes from the myriad of plants he brushed up against. He’d never known such misery, but the will of his god drove him forward.
It had not been long before his own army had overtaken and passed him. The soldiers did not know that of course. He kept to the shadows whenever he crossed their path. He had enough left of his own mind to know that in his current appearance they would never believe that he was their king. Perhaps that ought to have bothered him. He vaguely remembered a time in his life when he desired nothing more than to be a leader of men, a ruler. Those things no longer seem to matter. The sheer ecstasy of being the chosen of the Ice King was all he cared about.
He caught a whiff of smoke and the aroma of cooking meat. He didn’t know how far away the fire was. His senses seem to have heightened in the time since he had received his charge. He considered that, day by day, he was becoming less like a man and more like an animal, and his joy at being the chosen one could not completely dampen the feeling of unease this gave him.
He slowed his pace, not wanting to stumble into a precarious situation. Whether the men up ahead where his or the enemy’s, he knew they would not welcome him.
Summoning all the will
he still possessed, he forced down the urge to rush forward toward his goal. Instead, he crept along, careful not to make a sound. Soon he heard voices and loud cries. He closed the distance slowly until the swamp opened up into a large clearing. He ducked underneath the cover of the thick foliage and crawled on his belly until he could observe the scene unnoticed.
Close by, a group of men sat around a small fire. Beyond them lay many more campfires and a few tents. In the distance, he could make out tiny flickers that told him this was where the army, what was once his army, had chosen to make camp for the night.
The men closest to him were roasting frogs over the fire. He had always hated frog, but right now his hunger was so great that it seemed like a sumptuous feast. He recognized one of the men immediately—Paden, one of his most devout supporters. Perhaps Paden would share his food?
The invisible hand that drove his actions crushed that thought in an instant. No one could know of his mission. It was his alone. One of them might try to usurp his place and he couldn’t have that.
But he was so hungry and, oddly enough, he realized that he longed for human interaction. He was not suited for solitary life, and he was not a hunting dog, no matter what the Ice King said. No sooner had that thought entered his mind than his head began to scream in agony. He felt as if powerful hands were crushing his skull. Fighting the urge to sick up, he squeezed his eyes closed and focused on his mission. Soon, the pain abated.
He laid there, eyes closed, until the sound of approaching footsteps on the soft ground drew his attention. He opened his eyes to see two temple priests, escorted by a dozen guards, approached the campfire where Paden sat.
“Your god requires your service,” one of the priests said to Paden.
Paden’s face went pale. “Requires me for what?”
“Come with us,” the second priest said.
Paden’s eyes widened in abject terror. He put his hand on the hilt of his sword. It was a measure of his fear that he could summon such resistance when the entire army seemed to have been bent to the will of the Ice King.
