by Bill Albert
One particular morning they had a rather heated discussion concerning the use of focus crystals in casting. Focus crystals were relatively new to the casting field and, having only been discovered about a hundred years ago, there were many theories about their usefulness. A caster would focus on stones as they cast and, most often, the spell would be increased in its effectiveness. Sometimes the casting would fail completely or, rarely, an entirely different cast would be delivered. Brox believed that casting failure was due to imperfections in the crystals but Jakobus felt the caster was to blame. After the seventh hour of the debate even Brox’s assistant was showing signs of boredom.
After a few hours of riding on the fifth day Brox called them all to a stop. His assistant helped him down from his mount and they walked several yards ahead of the rest. The assistant pulled a small scroll from one of the many pockets in his cloak and carefully unrolled it. Brox spoke to his assistant and made several very large gestures toward the horizon. The assistant nodded in response but didn’t speak. As the assistant stayed forward of them looking at the scroll and studying the horizon Brox walked back to them.
“If you look all the way to the horizon,” he said as he pointed into the white and gray distance, “you can just barely see the ice mountain range. According to the notes and maps, that is where the spices were coming from. There are considerable caverns there and the climate inside is perfect for oreg spices.
“We should be able to make it there in four days. The closer we get the more hills and valleys we’ll have to traverse. We’ll also have the advantage of a few extra hours of daylight.
“That’s the good news. The bad news is it will be bitterly cold. My assistant tells me that the weather should be favorable for at least the next three days, but expects the clouds to come in by the fourth.
“My assistant is going to pass around strips of bright red cloth. I want you each to wrap them around your right, and I do mean right, arms,” he said as the assistant started working his way around the group.
“I don’t understand,” Kavelle said as she took hold of her cloth. “What is this for?”
“On my second trip to the ice fields our party became separated during an evening storm. The next morning, when all was clear, we saw our friend almost a mile away. We waved at him and though he didn’t respond he just came walking in our direction. We went about our business getting ready to travel and before we knew it, he was out of sight. We went looking and found him dead from the frost almost two miles away. At that distance in the blinding white we could only see a figure walking and didn’t realize he was walking away. This way, if we are separated, we will be able to tell which way you are going,” he stopped and let them work out the exact meaning of the remark themselves. “I’ll give you five minutes to prepare and then we will leave,” he said finally and walked back to his assistant.
Like the rest of them Gallif wrapped the cloth around her right arm and started carefully inspecting her mount. She made sure the cloth was wrapped loosely enough around Snow’s legs that it would protect them but not restrict them. The hood was also fastened comfortably to protect her companion’s eyes.
“You’re going to have to trust me on this,” she said, and Snow gently bobbed her head up and down.
“I will trust you on this, as well,” Jakobus said as he approached. “Perhaps more than I trust our guide.”
“Well,” Gallif shook her head. “His personality leaves a lot to be desired, but I trust the people who recommended his guidance. His assistant is the odd one,” she said as she glanced at the man helping Brox get to his mount.
“We dwarves think that the less one speaks the more one has to hide.”
“A lot of people think that the more one speaks the less one has to say.”
Jakobus chuckled and patted her on the back. “You would make a good dwarf. You already have some torches?” he asked. She opened her fur cloak to show that she was wearing the two he had given her previously and he handed her two more. “For your friend,” he smiled and nodded towards Snow.
Gallif accepted the torches gratefully and safely tied them to the saddle bags. Jakobus left her and started working his way around each member of the party giving each of them extra torches.
As they all mounted their horses the assistant pulled a small horn from a saddle bag and blew a single note.
Gallif assumed this would be another way to help them if they were separated and slowly started Snow forward to come even with Kavelle. They looked at each other and Kavelle nodded approvingly.
The further they traveled the bitterer was the cold. They were in a rolling part of the fields with moderate ice and snow dunes that would occasionally give them shelter from the winds. Each night they slept closer and closer to the campfire. The horses huddled together and soon even the rest were looking for ways to stay warm. By the fourth night Brox had ordered that someone must stay awake to keep watch for any approaching animals or other hunters. They would stand guard in shifts and Jakobus volunteered to take the first watch.
Brox and his assistant went to one side of the fire and curled up in separate sleeping bags. Gallif and Kavelle put their bags next to each other on the opposite side of the flames. Gallif had never been this far north before, and never this cold, and was explaining her experience to Kavelle.
“Even in the cold months near the mountain it never gets like this,” she shivered.
“It’s a good fire,” Kavelle explained to her. “It’ll keep us from freezing.”
“Thank goodness for that,” Gallif smiled.
“We could sleep together,” Kavelle said. “It’ll keep us warm.”
Gallif knew that she was right as they wrapped up, back to back, in their blankets. Sometimes, when they were without shelter, she and her brother had had to sleep under one blanket to share body heat, but after being with Maura this felt odd. Almost as if she was cheating.
Again, they drifted off to sleep to the sound of Jakobus’s nightly prayers.
After a few hours Gallif was bolted awake as her senses picked up something wrong with the area. Jakobus had been checking on the horses and came running at her sudden movements. He stopped next to her and she motioned for him to wait a moment while she deciphered what was going on.
The night sky was completely shrouded with clouds so the sky spirits were gone. A slight breeze had picked up since they had bedded down and she took a slow and deep breath. There was an odd smell, something sharp, something not natural to the night.
She slowly and carefully got up and took her flame sword from the sheath at her side. Jakobus pulled his axe and pointed at the still sleeping Kavelle. Gallif shook her head that he should follow her. He took one of his torches from the fire and they headed away from the camp in the direction of the breeze.
When they were far enough away from the camp she took another deep breath and then looked at Jakobus.
“Can you smell that?” she asked him. He also took a deep breath, but his dwarven senses were not as acute as hers and he shook his head that he detected nothing.
They traveled in the direction of the wind and as the distance between the dunes became shorter and deeper and finally turned into a trench. It was still wide enough for them to walk side by side and the light from the torch gave them a broad view of the surroundings, but the flame sword tinted the area to orange. Soon the path opened into a large box canyon.
At the edge of the canyon Gallif started to slip as the ground slanted downwards but Jakobus’s reflexes were fast and he steadied her before she could get hurt. She stopped and took another deep breath. She looked at the ice walls and floor around them and then put her sword back in its sheath. Once the flame was gone the pure white of Jakobus’s torch bathed the immediate area and the true colors of the landscape could be seen. The ice was white and gray broken by streaks of very dark red. She ran her fingers across the red veins and then smelled them to confirm her beliefs. The red was frozen blood. She looked at Jakobus and he nodd
ed in understanding.
From where they stood they could see some odd shapes in the floor of the canyon. With Gallif’s support Jakobus stepped to the edge of the path and held the torch out as far as he could go.
The area it lit beyond them was a ghastly reminder of what Gallif had found in the barn. There were many bodies torn up and spread across the ice. From this point of view it was impossible to tell which side, if either had won the battle but whoever had lost had not made it easy for the opponent. The smell of blood was so strong it was almost overpowering.
Immediately to the left of their position were the remains of two giants that had been torn up. Further up from them was a third giant, but they could not see any details from this distance. To the right, closer to a cave mouth than to them, there were two more giant bodies that looked relatively intact. There were other bodies in the darkness, a few orcs, but most were the hobgoblin guards.
Jakobus jumped down first and almost lost his footing on the ice. He reached up and held Gallif’s waist tight to lower her to his level. Using his torch and her flame sword to guide them they examined the dead body of the closest hobgoblin. It was partially covered by the body of a fallen aquilus and Gallif quickly pulled the hulk off and pushed it aside. They examined the body but found nothing special. It was obvious by the wounds that he had been cut down in combat.
They moved carefully to the remains of two giants that had been mauled. One of the giants had been wearing a rather long and elaborate set of robes. The other had been dressed in patch clothes and badly mangled furs that gave the impression they had been put together quickly. This giant was lying on its back with a deep cut in its stomach. The other was on its side several feet away with its back to them. There were also the remains of six aquilus around it.
“The ragged cloth giant was killed by the other,” Jakobus speculated. The wounds in the body were large and were most likely made from the enormous swords only a giant was strong enough to carry. “These giants fought?” Jakobus asked himself out loud. “That’s unheard of.”
“It looks like the other giant was badly wounded and tried to retreat.”
“Yes,” Jakobus agreed. “Then the orcs attacked him in a frenzy, and they all died.”
They moved through the bodies of some of the guards and over the dead aquilus to the two giants near the cave mouth. Gallif took a close look at them but wasn’t sure what she was seeing. She considered there was some distortion from the orange of the flame sword and she quickly slid it into the sheath. She gently reached forward and stroked the dead giant’s lengthy beard.
“These giants are dressed differently,” Jakobus said.
“Yes,” Gallif agreed. “How long ago would you say this combat happened?”
“The scent in here is still strong,” Jakobus considered. “I would estimate a few hours. Maybe just after or before sunset.”
Gallif agreed, but added, “These bodies are frozen solid. Even the hair on his chin is completely frozen.”
Jakobus coughed in disbelief and came forward to join her. He tried to run his fingers through the giant’s beard as well, but the hair would not give to his touch.
“Even at this low temperature here, with no wind, it should take days for that to freeze,” Jakobus said.
Gallif nodded as she stood and looked at the second giant. She tried to move the patch coat it was wearing, but, it to, was frozen solid.
There was a sound, a movement, from the far side of the area and both of them snapped instantly in its direction. Gallif swung around as she drew her flame sword and used it to help light the area again.
They went forward several steps until their light could finally reach the far side of the canyon. There was another trench, nearly twice as big as the one they had entered from, on the opposite side. It quickly turned to the right as it left the area they were in and it was impossible to see beyond the first few yards.
They were near the body of the fifth giant. It was lying still on its side facing away from them, but they could not detect the frost that the previous two bodies had been covered in. They could see cuts in its side and back and there were several pools of blood near it. It was also dressed in the fancier robes. They carefully pushed away some of the dead aquilus as they moved to see its face.
This giant looked relatively young and was clean shaven. As Gallif reached out to examine its robes there was the sound of movement again from behind them. They turned, weapons ready, to face the far exit, but nothing could be seen. They stood, silent only to the sound of their hearts beating, for several minutes.
When the giant reached over and grabbed Gallif by the waist both of them shouted out of surprise. She tried to twist and escape, but the grip was too strong, and he pulled her closer. Jakobus swung around with his axe rising. His instincts were to protect Gallif, but the thought of striking a giant caused him to pause before he started the downward swing. That pause gave the giant enough time to raise the other hand open flat with the palm upwards. As the giant lost its strength Gallif was released and it rolled back onto the ice. Jakobus quickly returned the axe to his belt and Gallif replaced the flame sword in the sheath.
They took a position on each side of the giant and helped it lift its head.
“How badly hurt is he?” Gallif asked as they scanned the body. There were many cuts, but they were not long or deep and the loss of blood had been relatively minor. She gently felt his forehead and then the back of the head. When she pulled her hand out it was covered in blood. She reached back again and put some pressure on the skull. “There’s a soft spot there.”
“Can you hear me?” Jakobus asked of the giant they cradled in their arms. “Do you understand me?”
The giant’s eyes opened just a bit and he nodded that he did.
Gallif reached into her cloak and pulled one of the healing potions she was carrying. She guessed the giant to be over nine feet tall and hoped that there would be enough for the cast to take effect. She popped off the cork and tilted it to the giant’s mouth. Together they urged the giant to open his lips. Finally, he did so and she poured the light blue liquid steadily into the giant’s mouth. Time paused for them as they waited and prayed anxiously for the giant to recover. Eventually there was a cough and the eyes popped open wide. Gallif quickly felt the back of the skull. The soft spot was still there, but it was much smaller than before. She also saw that some of the cuts in the side and legs were smaller. She quickly pulled the second bottle of potion and drained it into the wounded giant as quickly as possible. After several more breathless moments the giant coughed loudly and sat up. Gallif again touched the back of the giant’s skull and found no soft spot at all.
“Thank you,” the giant said slowly. “My name is Mekon.”
“I am Gallif, glad to be at your service.”
“I am Jakobus, may I help you more?”
“I think I’ll be okay,” Mekon said. Though most of the cuts were gone there were still a few scratches and bruises and he moved slowly.
“Where did you come from?” Mekon asked.
“We are part of a party traveling the ice fields,” Gallif said. She didn’t feel right explaining exactly what they were doing yet but, at the same time, she hoped she would not offend the giant by holding things back. “May I ask what happened to you?”
“Well,” Mekon’s deep voice trailed off as he tried to remember what had happened. “We were separated from one of our party,” he said finally. “It was just before sundown and we thought we’d picked up her trail, definitely giant tracks, and we came into this area,” he stopped as it all came back to him.
He quickly stood and looked around the area. He had difficulty and was moving slowly and painfully so both Gallif and Jakobus helped him stand.
“Barto,” Mekon whispered as he looked at the giant that had been struck down in an elven frenzy. “He even complained that we should be more careful,” Mekon remembered. “We almost teased him for thinking this was the perfect place for a trap.
” Mekon stopped and took a deep breath as the guilt flooded over him. “The aquilus descended on us like a wave and before we knew, they were on us.”
“Was it just the aquilus that attacked you?” Gallif asked after a moment.
Mekon stopped as some of the memories came back to him. He shook his head slowly and said “No.” He turned to face them before continuing. “There was a white. A sudden whiteness that we couldn’t see through and I was knocked from behind,” he said rubbing his head.
“Where from?’ Jakobus asked.
“Where from, indeed,” Mekon said. “It couldn’t have come from that way,” he said pointing into the trench on the far side of the canyon. “We came from that direction.”
“We came from other and there were no tracks,” Gallif said.
Mekon, with returning strength, walked to where he had been found unconscious and picked up the giant long sword he used in combat. He stretched it out and pointed it to the open cave mouth. “There!” He quickly turned and looked at them with all his giant authority. “Because you saved my life, I will tell you this,” he said. “I was sent here by the Giant Lords to investigate rumors of a growing rebellion.”
Gallif was so shocked to hear the giant say it she almost shook in surprise. She tried to hide her feelings but feared that the giant had read her reaction.
Jakobus openly coughed and stamped his feet. If he had heard it from anyone other than a giant he would have laughed it off as a joke. Hearing it from this source he knew the credibility was good.
“I now have to go into that cave to see if there is any chance anyone else survived. Will you come with me?” Despite the words it was clear by the tone of his voice that he intended for them to follow no matter what they said.
