“We stay,” Kaleb said, nodding humbly. “Whatever labor you need from us, we’re at your service.”
Dawn watched the brothers. She still believed they weren’t being fully honest. They had lied about their knighthood. What else were they hiding and why? They seemed fearful of leaving Esgrove. She wanted to know why.
The peasants didn’t harbor any ill will toward Caen, but they seemed suspicious of Kaleb and Eegrubb, so the brothers would have to prove themselves. She liked that.
Chapter Forty-one
After ten minutes of trying to ride at a fast gait, Lehrling slowed his horse and almost stopped. The jarring from the horse hurt his ribs too badly to allow more than a slow walk. The sky seemed much darker, and at the slow pace they had traveled, Bausch figured it was already late in the evening.
“I’m sorry for impeding our progress,” Lehrling said.
“It’s not something you can help,” Bausch replied.
“At least the snow’s stopped enough that the horse tracks are still visible.”
“That is good, but the cold wind is too harsh for our horses. How are you holding up?”
“I’ll make it,” Lehrling said, forcing a smile.
Bausch nodded and whispered, “I hope so.”
He glanced down at the path and noticed larger hoof prints. He looked through the trees on both sides of the forest path. If it were just one set of prints, he wouldn’t have worried so much. But he counted at least three sets.
Bausch almost shouted a warning to Lehrling, but there wasn’t any reason to make the old man panic. Should any need for fighting arise, Bausch would have to fight off the others. Lehrling was in no shape to even try to defend himself.
Bausch also understood that they had to continue forward. There was no turning back. They were too far from Icevale to return. Lehrling needed a medic, and they had a better chance of finding one in Glacier Ridge than they did risking Lehrling’s life by riding back through the dark mountain passageways. Lehrling would succumb to his injuries and probably die well before they reached the Dwarven city. Without torches, they would also be vulnerable to Ratkin or any other creatures that might have come out from hiding.
Bausch would rather fight a dozen Vykings than reenter the darkness of the mountain tunnel. Not seeing what lurked in the shadows frightened him more than anything else. Death thrived in the darkness. The depths of the mountain pass, without light, was one long claustrophobic crypt where Death might seek to tighten its grip around his throat and choke the life from his body.
The path turned and descended down a steep icy hillside. Plumes of white came from the horses and Lehrling. Due to Bausch’s armor, he was the only one that the icy air didn’t affect.
“Glacier Ridge . . .” Lehrling said, tugging back the reins and stopping the horse.
The announcement shook Bausch from his daydreaming nightmare. He glanced down the icy covered road. “Not much to it, is there?”
Lehrling shook his head. In spite of the weakness showing in his eyes, he remained jovial. “As long as there is warmth, food, and drink, I’ll be relieved. A couple days of rest . . . ”
Bausch smiled back. “I will see if we can find a medic for you.”
“That would be good, too. Much better than anything else.”
“Take the hill slowly,” Bausch said. “The last one . . .”
Lehrling nodded. “Yes. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what subjected me to my current ailment.” Mucus icicles were frozen in his short beard and mustache. Small streams of white air puffed from his nose and open mouth. He nudged Bleys’ side lightly. The horse took slow, cautious steps, almost like the horse remembered the Icevale incident and didn’t want to repeat the treacherous fall.
Small fires flickered in open metal fire pits that set upon tripods. The cobblestone road was ice coated and a bluish white because winter was a constant that never faded in Glacier Ridge. The sun was like an unwelcomed guest and never visited this terrain.
Once they reached the bottom of the hill, the road leveled. A metal sign covered with long icicles hung on a wooden post with an arrow pointing to the right. Etched into the metal was the word: Stables.
Lehrling pointed where the sign indicated. “There’s the stable. Let’s get the horses checked in.”
Bausch swung off the horse, grabbed the reins, and walked over to Lehrling. “Here. Let me help you down.”
Lehrling seemed embarrassed at the offer, but didn’t argue. He replied with a sincere appreciative nod.
After Lehrling was off his horse, he and Bausch walked to the wide stable doors. Snow and pellets of ice drifted with the wind, causing Lehrling to tighten the woolen blanket around him even tighter. Even beneath the blanket, he kept pressure against his bruised ribs. He hobbled and couldn’t stand fully upright. It took what remained of his mental strength not to collapse on the street from pain and exhaustion. He wished he had listened to the dwarf medic in Icevale.
Bausch beat the door with a tight fist. Small ice crystals drifted downward. He exhaled a white cloud while waiting for the door to open.
A rush of heat flowed around them when the door opened. A Vyking stood before them. Harshness shaped his intimidating brow and made his dark narrow eyes appear more ruthless. Scars and tattoos of runic symbols boasted his years of battle. Uneasiness loomed between Lehrling and Bausch as they exchanged bewildered glances. Bausch wondered if this man was the actual stable master, and if so, why. Vykings never settled so far inland.
“Checking in your horses?” the giant man said in a gruff, bellowing voice. He stood in a defiant stance with a massive hammer in hand. While he studied Lehrling and Bausch, he never blinked.
Bausch swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m Riese,” the Vyking said, extending his hand. “The Blacksmith and Stable-master.”
Bausch offered his hand in return. Riese’s hand swallowed Bausch’s. During the handshake, Riese never offered the slightest smile. His skeptical demeanor controlled his every action, and Bausch was surprised the Vyking had offered his hand at all.
Bausch and Lehrling left the horses with Riese’s sons and returned to the streets of Glacier Ridge. There was no sign of the three dwarves. With the delay in Bausch and Lehrling’s arrival, the dwarves had probably already downed one barrel of ale in a tavern and were starting their second.
“Before we find the tavern,” Bausch said, “let’s see where the inn is and get a room for the night.”
Few people loitered outside the buildings, probably due to the bitter cold and the overwhelming number of thieves. There were no posted guards in the small hidden town, which further implied a thieving sanctuary. Without any honor amongst thieves, wariness reigned supreme. Each visitor remained on guard the entire time. Otherwise, they’d lose any valuables they possessed.
Even though no one was visible, Lehrling felt the overwhelming sensation of being watched. Rogues took every opportunity to steal, and the more experienced ones acted without ever being seen. That was the danger of dealing with thieves. How did a pickpocketer steal from another with equal talent?
Bausch and Lehrling walked through the marketplace until they came upon a small two-story building. All of the windows on the ground floor were boarded up, either to help insulate against the cold or as a deterrent for easy access to thieves. The second floor didn’t have any windows or balconies at all, adding a modest sense of security.
A frosty white sign crusted with a layer of snow displayed: Myrtle’s Inn.
Outside the door stood three large Vykings. Bausch was hesitant to walk any closer. Each Vyking stared at him with menacing eyes and a coldness harsher than the icy air around them. Their gazes detailed their immediate dislike for the two Dragon Knights and no introductions had even been made.
Bausch glanced at Lehrling. In a whisper, he said, “I never thought they’d be this far north. At least not this soon.”
“Me, either.”
“And the stable mas
ter is one as well.”
“I know,” Lehrling replied. “Perhaps these standing here were with the group that pursued us to Icevale?”
Bausch shrugged. “Agreed. All except the stable master. He appeared to be a long time resident here, and his sons aren’t full Vyking.”
“Should we go back to the stables?”
Bausch shook his head. “No. We need a room and we have every right to venture into Glacier Ridge as the Vykings standing outside the inn door.”
“Except we aren’t thieves.”
“I doubt that these warriors are.”
“I agree, but be careful all the same.”
“I will. Come on.”
Bausch led the way down the narrow path. Ignoring their gazes, Bausch stepped past one Vyking, and reached for the inn door. One of the three Vykings grabbed Bausch’s right wrist tightly. Bausch turned with a glare and his other hand immediately reached for his dagger.
A short sword pressed against Bausch’s throat. The Vyking shook his head. “I’d rethink that.”
Bausch took a deep breath and held it, allowing another Vyking to take his sword and dagger. The Vyking holding his wrist had an extra thumb on each hand. His grip was strong enough to snap Bausch’s arm with a simple twist. This Vyking was also much taller and heavier than his companions. His skin and eyes were oddly different, too.
What is this?
“Prince Xylus,” one of the smaller Vykings said to the one holding Bausch’s wrist. “He wears the pendant that Waxxon spoke of.”
Prince Xylus smiled. “So he does. And what of the other?”
“Him, too.”
“Xeus,” Xylus said. “Get our horses from the stables. We escort these two out of the town and execute them.”
“Why not kill them here?”
Xylus shook his head. His yellow eyes shimmered. “Hobus, it’s easier to get rid of their bodies up above the ridge without question or hostility from the stable master or the townspeople. Besides, it might take some torture to get them to reveal where the rest of their Order is. Their screams here on the open street will draw the attention of others.”
Xeus nodded and turned to cross the marketplace.
Hobus took all of Lehrling’s weapons. He eyed the old man. “I don’t see why Waxxon seemed so worried about these knights. They didn’t put up a fight at all, and this one looks almost dead anyway.”
Xylus shrugged. “Soon they shall both be. But, for now, they’re just something to pass the time. Entertainment we won’t find in this frozen town.”
Hobus took metal shackles and cuffed Bausch’s hands behind his back. Bausch shook his head. For a moment he thought about fighting back, but Lehrling was in poor shape. If he didn’t resist, perhaps they’d spare Lehrling. Lehrling would die if any of these Vykings started hitting or kicking him in the ribs. Bausch hoped that once they got out of Glacier Ridge that he’d find a way to break free and kill these Vykings. But with Death looming along the mountain pass, he didn’t believe he’d live to see another day. He hoped that he could at least find a way to save Lehrling first.
“Waxxon fears us?” Bausch asked in an amused tone.
“He believes you’ll be ones to cause the most problems,” Xylus said. “But neither of you are a concern to me.”
“Apparently you fear Waxxon if you’re taking his orders,” Bausch replied. He knew the gibe would bring severe repercussions from the giant Vyking, but he hoped Lehrling might find a way to escape.
Xylus clutched a tight grip around Bausch’s throat and lifted him off the cobblestone. Bausch’s face reddened. He gasped for air. Veins swelled on his forehead.
The Vyking pressed Bausch against the wall and held him. “I fear no one. Waxxon is a hock in our army. He doesn’t fully know that yet, but he knows we don’t answer to him. But if he perceives you as a threat to his temporary rule, I won’t take any chances that you will become a problem later. He has placed a high bounty on your heads, and for sport, I intend to collect.”
With his hands bound behind his back, Bausch couldn’t try to pry the Vyking’s fingers from around his throat. The strain caused pain to radiate down his spine. He expected his neck to snap within the next few seconds. All the Vyking needed was one sharp twist to the left or right, and Bausch was dead.
“Sir,” Lehrling said in his aristocratic tone. “Let him breathe, please. If you break his neck, he won’t be able to talk, now will he?”
Xylus grinned at Bausch before slowly lowering and releasing him. Bausch leaned his shoulder against the inn wall, bent slightly forward, and sucked in huge gulps of frigid air, which hurt his lungs tremendously.
Bausch coughed several times. When he caught his breath, he turned and faced Xylus. “You’re a prince?”
Prince Xylus nodded.
Bausch grinned and released a hoarse laugh. “Why would a prince be roaming Aetheaon looking for Dragon Skull Knights? I’d think that would be more a warrior’s job. Has your father no better duties for you?”
“There are nine of us princes. We must show ourselves worthy of the throne. The one that has fought and killed the most with undying valor will succeed our father.”
“Seems you’re at the low end since you roam a thieving town looking for knights at the beckoning of a mere lord who now claims to be a king. Your father has made you a servant to a lesser man. Indeed that is such an honorable thing.”
Xylus’ jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. With a quick movement, he leveled the tip of his sword to Bausch’s throat. “Wag your tongue, little dog. If I didn’t need you to speak, I’d cut it out in an instant.”
“So brave of you to speak thusly while you have a weapon and I’m unarmed and unable to defend myself. I thought Vykings were braver. Men of valor? Bah!” Bausch spat on the ground. “You are a coward. Nothing more. Unless you have the backbone to fight me with weapons or do you believe I can best you?”
“Bausch!” Lehrling said sternly.
Prince Xylus lowered the blade and sheathed it. Bausch’s bold statements caught the Vyking by surprise. The firmness in his features didn’t lessen, but he never broke his gaze. “Once we reach the peak, you can have your sword. You will cower and shake before I cut off your head. Like a dog with its tail between its legs, you will beg for your life.”
“We shall see,” Bausch replied.
“That we will,” Xylus said in an even tone.
Xeus returned with the three Vyking horses.
Prince Xylus climbed onto his mount while Xeus and Hobus tethered a long rope around Bausch and Lehrling’s necks and tied it to a saddle.
Once the two Vykings mounted their horses, Lehrling glanced at Bausch and whispered, “What were you thinking?”
“I’m just buying a little time.”
“He could have killed you back there.”
Bausch shook his head. “Not in the square.”
“How could you have been certain?”
“He seemed too hesitant,” Bausch replied.
“And once we’re on the hillside? What do you intend to do then?”
Bausch shrugged and looked down. “I don’t have many options left. But if he allows me my weapon, I will fight to the best of my ability.”
“May the goddesses shine down upon you,” Lehrling said.
Bausch remained silent. His mind returned to his broken oath to Lez’minx. The goddesses would not intervene in this or any battle. Death awaited him on the mountaintop. The best he could hope was that his death would be swift. But once he died, what happened to Lehrling?
Chapter Forty-two
The hillside above the thieving town of Glacier Ridge was hard frozen layers of snow. The trees were gray silhouettes against a white overcast sky. Pellets of sleet and dry ice crystals swirled in the wind. Prince Xylus dismounted and took his long Vyking sword.
Xylus motioned to the two Vykings. “Release the dog with the wagging tongue and hand him his weapon. I want to see if his actions back his boasting.”
&n
bsp; Xeus uncuffed Bausch’s hands. Hobus brought Bausch his sword and tossed it onto the frozen ground. Bausch stooped and picked it up, never taking his eyes off of the three Vykings. Lehrling stood just behind the Vykings.
Sadness and worry claimed Lehrling. The old man looked feeble and more helpless than ever, apparently knowing he was unable to intervene.
Xeus and Hobus flung a rope over a branch of a tall tree. They formed a noose on one end and then tied the other end securely to the branch.
Bausch stuck the tip of his sword into the snow. While it stood, he rubbed his wrists and eyed Prince Xylus, trying to size up his opponent. The prince was much larger than any of the Vykings Bausch had fought before.
The strangeness of the Vyking’s eyes, the extra thumbs, and his extraordinary size and strength let Bausch know that the prince wasn’t an ordinary Vyking. What else he was, Bausch didn’t know. On the places where his skin was exposed, his flesh looked partially scale-covered like demons Bausch had seen. If the prince was the offspring from those two races, Bausch didn’t see any beneficial outcome in his own favor.
“If you’re waiting for the spring thaw, I don’t have that kind of time,” Prince Xylus said.
Xeus and Hobus laughed.
Bausch swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and pulled his sword from the ice. He wished they had allowed him a shield, not that it mattered much, but his mind would be eased somewhat in knowing he had a chance to block the Vyking’s attack.
“What? Out of boastful words?”
Bausch’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t reply. He dug the toes of his boots into the thick ice, trying to get a solid foothold, but the ground didn’t budge more than a half-inch downward. He eyed the prince and looked at the Vyking’s thickly layered leather armor. He doubted his sword could penetrate the armor enough to deliver a deathblow. No matter what he did, he didn’t see a positive outcome in this bout. Lehrling wasn’t in any condition to make a run for it.
Lady Squire- Dawn's Ascension Page 32
