by H. L. Burke
“Oh.” It was all she could say. The pale blue sky and harsh sun of Solea were cheerful and bright, but this ... this was beauty in a whole new way: a pristine, wild, and mysterious symphony of deep, dark tones and sparkling light. “It’s amazing.”
“Glad you approve.” He laughed, and she broke from her reverie to shoot him a glare. Not for the first time, the twinkle in his eyes soothed her anger. He smiled and squeezed her hand. “Welcome to Frorheim, Princess Arynne.”
Chapter Eleven
For the longest time, Arynne couldn’t break her gaze from the starry sky. She stared until her neck ached and the stars seemed to dance. Occasionally a silver cloud would drift over a section or a light would streak across the sky. Elfrida, who joined Arynne after a bit, explained that the streaks were called falling stars, though they weren’t really.
“When I was a girl one actually crashed to earth just shy of the Starspire,” she explained. “A group of wardens went after it and found a great crater with a single strange stone in the middle. It had melted the snow around it. They brought it back to Frorheim and forged it into weapons and ornaments which the king gave to his favored advisors as gifts. Most don’t reach the ground, however.”
“Where do you think such things come from?” Arynne whispered.
“I don’t know. Perhaps each star is its own world, even as ours is. Perhaps there are people out there looking back at us.” A faint smile flitted across Elfrida’s lips. “Though if so, I imagine they are as bound to their worlds as we are to ours.”
They camped one more time at the end of the pass. It opened up into a field of snow sloping downwards towards a dark valley. Arynne pried herself from her warm furs to look out over the emptiness. Kajik joined her.
His brow furrowed. “There’s been a great snowfall recently. I can barely see the road.”
Arynne laughed. “What road?” From what she could tell, it was all an even field of white.
He crouched down so their eyelines were even and pointed. “You see that line of stones? The black ones?”
Following his finger, she noted a series of dark spots against the white.
“Those are pillars set up along the path. There can be fissures hidden under the snow, so you want to be sure you’re walking on solid ground. The wardens maintain the pillars, make sure they aren’t completely buried, though it looks as if only the tops of them are exposed now—they’re on average as high as three men stacked foot to shoulder.”
Arynne swallowed. How deep was the snow?
He shifted from foot to foot. “That’s not ideal ... Hey, Ivak!” He turned and shouted over his shoulder.
The older man broke away from the group around the campfire. They had a second wagon devoted completely to wood brought from the Gloaming for fires. Kajik had briefly explained that trees were rare in Frorheim, forcing them to use other sources as fuel—he’d rattled off things like “fire stones” and “bear fat” by way of explanation—but when they could bring wood and keep it dry, they did as it provided better heat and lit easier.
“What is it, Kay?” Ivak asked.
Kajik waved past Arynne to the expanse of white. “Fresh snow. Looks loose. Not ideal for traveling.”
“True, but we don’t have the resources to clear it, and we can’t wait here long.” Ivak let out a great cloud of breath. “We’ll need to take care, though. Especially below the slope. Prime avalanche conditions. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I’ll inform the men.”
Avalanche? Another word Arynne did not know. She opened her mouth to ask what it meant, but a light in the distance distracted her, a bright spot in the plain of darkness before her. “Kajik, what is that?”
He looked up as Ivak returned to the others. “What’s what?”
“That light there. Could it be a campfire?”
“I doubt anyone would be out this far from any settlements.” He squinted, and a smile crept over his face. “Oh, that. That’s a starshard, Princess. One of the smaller ones. That one isn’t on our path, but there’s one farther along on our journey. I look forward to showing it to you close up.”
Before they settled in to rest, Arynne spent some time twisting the strands of their campfire into various shapes to amuse the Frorians. She’d gotten quite adept at making fire obey her will during their short journey—though making her own fire from her inner heat still left her tired and cold. The men crowed with delight as she created flames in the shape of gazelles, camels, and birds. After a bit, though, even this tired her out. She returned to the tent the men had set up for her and Elfrida and snuggled into her furs. As she drifted off to sleep, she could hear Soryl and Elfrida harmonizing by the fire, a song of stars and ice and of a lover’s arms at the end of a long journey. Arynne wondered if Olyn’s arms would provide the comfort the ballad spoke of. She tried to imagine what he would be like. A Frorian prince, tall, strong, with eyes of pure blue as had been described to her—but the image faded and shifted in her brain until she found herself staring into Kajik’s likewise bright blue eyes. Before she could push away the unbidden image, however, sleep took her and she drifted into darkness.
She was awakened by bustling activity about the camp. Young Wrulf cooked up some of their supplies over the fire for Arynne’s breakfast as the other men stowed away the tents and lashed them securely in the wagons. Arynne was just finishing her bland but satisfying rations when Kajik approached, one hand behind his back.
“Are you planning to ride in the wagon for the first stretch?” he asked.
She hesitated. “I haven’t had much of a chance to test my strength, but at least for a while, I’d like the freedom to walk. Will that slow us down?”
“Not at all!” He brought his hand from behind his back exhibiting a pair of strange net-like contraptions. “I thought you might want the freedom to move with us, and we’ll be going slowly until we’ve cleared the deep snow anyway. However, if you want to walk, I’d suggest wearing these.” He placed the contraptions on the stony ground between them. “They’re snowshoes. You strap them to your feet and they allow you to walk on the snow without sinking in up to your eyeballs.”
Arynne eyed the snowshoes skeptically. “Really? How does that work?”
He shrugged. “From what I understand, they distribute your weight over a broader area. They’re a little awkward at first, but if you intend to walk, I think you’ll be grateful for them.” He knelt before her. “May I?”
She blinked at him before realizing his intent. She put forth her booted foot which he carefully strapped into one of the snowshoes. The process was repeated on her other foot. She lifted first one foot then the other, uncertain at how unwieldy she felt with the snowshoes attached.
“Where’s yours?” She eyed his boots, wondering if these snowshoes were some sort of joke.
He motioned towards the wagon. “There are several pairs with our equipment. I personally prefer skis. I think it might be a little easier for you to get used to snowshoes, though, especially if you’re not going to be walking far.” Standing, he offered her his arm. “Let me get mine and I’ll give you a quick lesson before we get started.”
She glanced from him to the other Frorians who were still working with the gear. What would they think if they saw her walking arm-in-arm with him? However, a single step forward proved so awkward that she swallowed her pride and slipped her arm into the crook of his.
“Wide stance,” he cautioned. “If you step on your own shoes, you’ll end up kissing the snow, and you need to save that first kiss for Prince Olyn.” He winked.
She rolled her eyes. Slowly, he led her to the wagon where he claimed another pair for himself as well as two sets of long poles. Once his shoes were strapped in place, he led her to the end of the gap.
The snow had drifted into the pass, a light covering that Arynne easily waded through.
“This is powdery, so you’ll want to lift the tip of your shoes up so you aren’t shoveling it along with you.” He let go of her
arm, walked a few paces to demonstrate. Gripping the poles she followed his example. It took more effort than she expected, but she didn’t fall flat on her face. After a little practice she felt decently sure of herself, enough so that she no longer clung to Kay like a toddler learning to walk.
“You’re a quick learner.” He grinned.
“Vanya likes to say I’m too stubborn and proud to fail.” She stuck her chin in the air.
“That trait will serve you well in Frorheim.” He patted her shoulder. “It looks like the others are ready to move out. I’m going to get my pack.”
A few minutes later he returned with a heavy looking pack strapped to his back and Elfrida at his side.
Arynne’s handmaiden also wore a pair of snowshoes which she grinned down at, eyes shining. “I haven’t done this since I was a girl. I feel like I’m twelve again!”
With the moss-elk pulling the wagons which now had runners rather than wheels to glide over the top of the snow, the group started out.
The field of snow was pure and white without a track upon it, sloping down towards the valley. Arynne had assumed Frorheim would be pitch black, but it was far from it. The moon and stars shone upon the pure white snow which reflected light into the air and cast an eerie glow across the land before them. She could clearly see the faces of those near her and the shadowy forms of the others in their caravan making their way down the slope.
With the snow so uniform, it would’ve been impossible to discern the road if not for the black columns standing like sentries along it. They were carved of stone with patterns of gray scratches marking them—some sort of writing, she assumed, though it was not the Frorian script Elfrida had taught her. Perhaps an alternate version used by merchants or wardens. Every twenty or so feet a new column stuck out of the snow like a seedling sprouting through the earth. The Frorians followed close to them. In spite of the decades since she’d used them, Elfrida proved quick on her feet with the snowshoes, soon outpacing Arynne who still wobbled and had to walk carefully to avoid falling. The activity took too much concentration for her to be distracted by conversation anyway.
At first Arynne shivered, clenching her jaws to avoid her teeth chattering against the wind. After passing the first several road markers, however, she found the effort of plodding on top of the snow, lifting her feet high to avoid pushing snow along with her, warmed her muscles.
“Hold up.” Kay reached out and loosened the clasp holding her fur-lined cloak. She withdrew, shocked by how free he was in meddling with her clothing. “You look like you’re about to start sweating,” he pointed out.
Her cheeks burned. “And what business of yours is that?”
“Trust me, that’s not what you want out here. You need to stay as dry as possible if you’re going to keep warm.” He slipped off her cloak and stuffed it into his own pack. “If you get cold, tell me, but if you feel hot, take off a layer or two.”
“In Solea, it is considered bad form to undress a member of the royal family without permission,” Arynne snapped. She jerked away from him and stabbed one of her walking-poles hard into the snow before her.
A smirk crept across his annoyingly charming face. “That may be, but it’s my duty to get you to Prince Olyn alive and warmblooded, not frozen solid ... though admittedly, you’d make a lovely ice sculpture.” Again he winked.
Arynne swung her pole at him. He ducked, and the swipe went wild. Her shoes crossed, her knees buckled, and she toppled forward.
“Watch it!” Kay caught her against his chest.
Spluttering with indignation, Arynne pushed off him, wobbled, and nearly toppled over again. She splayed her legs and stuck her poles deep in the snow to compensate.
“You all right?” He frowned.
“Mind your own business!” Anger rippled within her. Yes, he knew what he was doing and she didn’t, but he didn’t have to be so infuriating about it. She carefully negotiated a turn, trying to get back on the path. As she did, movement caught her eye near one of the road markers they’d just passed. A black figure standing in the shadow of the pillar, then gone a blink later. Her stomach twisted with unaccounted for anxiety.
“You all right?” Kay repeated, bending closer. “You look like you saw a grimwolf.”
“I ... I’m not sure. I thought I saw someone, or something, by that stone.” She pointed.
He squinted. “I don’t see anything. The reflections off the snow can cast some strange shadows. We’re a little high for animals. There’s nothing to eat up here, and the wind is too strong.”
“You’re probably right.” She shook it off. The rest of their party had already traveled some distance in the time they’d been stopped. They’d have to hurry to catch up. She grimaced down at her unwieldy snowshoes.
Kajik smiled. “I’ve got you.” He gripped her arm, and the world changed as if someone had pulled back a curtain. Arynne gasped and fell against him. When she looked up, they were standing beside the sleigh. Kajik drew a deep breath and leaned against the wagon. “I forget how much more energy it takes when I’ve got another person with me. The slope gets much steeper from here, hard to navigate if you aren’t used to it. You should probably ride for a bit. Do you need help getting your snowshoes off?”
He made Tor halt the sleigh long enough to get Arynne inside of it before giving her back her cloak. “Get comfortable. We have a long way to go before we reach ground level enough to make camp.”
A thought struck her. If she was getting tired, what was poor Elfrida feeling like? Even if the maid had more skill with the snowshoes, it had been years since she’d had to walk so far, and she was older. Scanning the caravan, Arynne caught sight of Elfrida dragging behind the men at the end of the line,
Regretting that she’d forgotten about her friend, Arynne waved and called out at the top of her voice. “Elfrida! Come, ride with me!”
A shudder went through the men. Ivak hissed at her.
Kajik clapped his hand over her mouth. Arynne recoiled. What had she done?
“Quiet,” he whispered, his usually twinkling eyes hard and grim.
She swallowed but lowered her voice when he took his hand away. “Why?”
He motioned towards the slope they’d just descended. “Fresh fallen snow on an incline like that? Slightest disturbance can send it down. You shout. It echoes off the hillsides, shaking the snow loose, and next thing you know, the whole cursed slope comes loose, tons of snow hurtling towards us like a hammer ready to smash a flea.”
She shrank down. Had she really just put all their lives in danger? “I’m ... I’m sorry.”
His face softened. “There was no way you could’ve known. We should’ve told you. I’ll fetch Elfrida for you so she can ride.”
A few minutes later, Elfrida settled next to Arynne on the furs, and the caravan started moving again.
The sleigh slipped over the snow with a pleasant, constant swishing sound reminding her of a boat skimming through water. No longer having to focus on her feet for fear of falling, she covered herself in furs and blankets except for her face and stared up at the sky. Beside her, Elfrida drifted off to sleep, snoring quietly.
After a bit the ground beneath them leveled off and their pace slowed. Arynne sat up. The road now curved through a narrow, twisting valley with steep, rocky slopes on either side. The Frorians trudged along beside the two sleighs. The tallest of them, Kay was easy to pick out, even in the pale moonlight. He walked near the front of the pack, next to the lead sleigh. Rafal sat on the sleigh, not driving it—no that task had been given to stalwart Yan—but balancing in the back wrapped up in a massive fur coat. As Arynne watched, Kay drew closer to him.
“You should get down and walk a bit. It’ll help you stay warm,” Kay said to the emissary.
In response Rafal made a noise somewhere between a cough and a growl. “It would not suit one of my rank. Men expect nobles to act as such, Starwarden Kajik. In fact, it would befit you to evaluate your own behavior. I’ve heard your fathe
r gripe about how you consort with these middling wardens as if they were your equals. It’s a disgrace, how you carry yourself, like a common road-watcher when your birth should allow you so much more.”
“My father doesn’t care if I live or die, let alone how I conduct myself.” Though Kay’s tone was dry, it had an edge to it, a hint of pain. Her heart squeezed, remembering what he’d said about his relationship with his father and how he was thought of as a disappointment. Even though she’d only known him for a short while, Arynne couldn’t imagine how a man like Kay—good-natured, intelligent, and capable—could be a disappointment to any father.
Rafal opened his mouth, probably to deride Kay some more, but the younger man had already turned away, tramping over the snow towards where Soryl and Wrulf walked, heads together in conversation.
Arynne bit her bottom lip then reached for her cloak and the snowshoes Kajik had left her. She wanted the truth out of Kajik. Considering how he kept his friends from talking about him and sidestepped inquiries about his person, she knew there was something he was hiding. Debating whether to confront him outright or try a more subtle approach, she strapped on the snowshoes and slid her legs over the back of the sleigh. She jumped, wobbled, and managed to stay standing. A flicker of pride warmed her chest. Still cautious and awkward in her steps, she did her best to catch up with Kajik, more waddling than running. Well, it might not be graceful, but she’d still improved in her form since her first attempts.
Elfrida yawned and sat up, glancing over the side of the sleigh at Arynne. “Oh, we’re walking again? Wait a moment, and I’ll join you.”
Arynne slowed. Catching sight of her, Ivak—the man driving her and Elfrida’s sleigh—pulled on the reins, slowing the moss-elk in anticipation of Elfrida climbing out.
