In The Depths Of Winter

by Bradley Mitzelfelt

  More and more of them took shape as time went on. He didn’t realize it, but his body was tilting forward. With each bit of them that became whole, his own body dwindled in energy. It took a lot out of him to make them whole, but as he looked on within his head, her last features came into focus: her beautifully sharp, golden eyes. As they did, he fell forward onto the floor, while Fanan wrapped Aiyana in the cloak.

  “I can’t believe my own eyes right now!” Shakrin exclaimed, rubbing his hands against them.

  “Quie’!” Fanan scolded him softly before she went over to pick Dearic up and lean him against the wall. Once there, she slapped him across the face. “’Ey. Wake up.”

  It took her a few tries, but eventually his eyes drifted open. When he saw Fanan looming over him he frowned, but then he saw Aiyana, wrapped in the cloak, and smiled. I did it. I don’t know how, but I did it. She’s really there. Considering the other three were now gaping at her, he knew it wasn’t just his eyes that could take her in. The cloak hadn’t been enough of a giveaway.

  “Thank you, Dearic,” she said as she shimmied her way over to him, keeping the cloak tight around her form. “Thank you.”

  She leaned against his shoulder and kissed his cheek lightly before throwing her arms around him. Fortunately, the cloak remained draped over her well enough to keep her backside from showing. At least she understood the necessity for the clothing. He half expected her to walk around naked just because she was used to doing just that. Her people really were interesting.

  “I hate to spoil this moment,” Shakrin said, peering through a crack in the door. “But it seems they’re coming this way. And I don’t mean that they’re just heading in our general direction. They’re all heading right here.”

  Panic would have been normal about then. The elves clutched at each other and backed as far away from the door as they could get in the little room. Aiyana gave Dearic a quick peck and then went over to the elves and wrapped her arms around them, careful to keep the cloak from spilling open. Dearic pushed himself to his feet and went to look for himself, but could only confirm exactly what Shakrin told him. They were, indeed, coming right for their hiding spot. Not that I know how, but I wonder if they can feel when I use Magic. It seemed improbable, but so had walking machines until he’d seen them.

  “I don’t have the energy to open a portal yet,” he said, pushing the door closed and looking around the room. “Shakrin how far are we from the tunnel entrance where we met? Can we get there and hide out below for a bit?”

  “It’s not far, but I don’t know if it’s safe since it was compromised before.”

  “It’s a risk we’ll have to take, and we’re going to need to move quickly so I’ll take the rear since I’m slowest right now anyway.”

  Dearic turned to the others and motioned for them to come over. Aiyana ushered the elf siblings over to them and then clasped her arms around herself to hold the cloak closed. She was biting her lip as she looked at the door, but they didn’t have time to deal with her fears. He turned to Shakrin and nodded. The dwarf threw the door open and rushed out, followed by the elves and Aiyana. Fanan stood at the door looking pointedly at Dearic.

  “Go, Fanan,” he said.

  She shook her head and pointed at him.

  “Yer goin’ firs’. No arguin’.”

  Of course she would do this to him. If any of them should fall it should be him, but she, being as stubborn as she was, wasn’t going to let that happen. So he moved out and jogged after the others. It was the best he could do for the moment. Fanan brought up the rear, as lances of light blew apart the door they’d exited through. They turned down another alley, out of sight of the machines and the creatures with them. He didn’t look back, but knew that they would follow them eventually. Nowhere was safe above ground.

  Shakrin had been right about it not being far to the entrance. By the time they rounded the corner nearest it, he already had it open and was lowering Aiyana down inside with the elves not in sight. Dearic came up beside them and glanced back before Fanan gave him a rough shove. He looked back and didn’t see Aiyana, but only Shakrin pointing to the hole. Sitting on the edge, he lowered himself down into the darkness below, and fell with an exhausted grunt onto the hard floor. Rolling away, he moved aside so the dwarves could follow them, and then gently nudged Aiyana and the elves down the tunnel. Shakrin put the cover back and they were effectively hidden.

  No one said a word until they were further down the tunnel, but Dearic eventually called a halt to their march. Any further and they risked another sort of discovery.

  “This is far enough,” he said, sitting down with his back to the wall.

  Aiyana sat across from him, and the two elves settled beside her. Perhaps it was her state of affairs, and the elves lack of worldly experience, that sought to guide them into such a position. Of those present, she was the only one relatively close to a mother, and soon she would be one.

  “I’ll stand guard,” Shakrin said, moving back the way they’d come, though not going too far as he stopped before Dearic lost sight of him.

  The others were all quiet, and he couldn’t blame them. They’d just run from an army of creatures they hadn’t seen in their world before; creatures with a magic of their own that seemed to have no limit. Even the humans of the Vale hadn’t been as gifted as these beings appeared to be. Their power didn’t feel like magic; not to him. Not unless they were beings like him and could conjure with only a thought. He doubted it given their larger machines that had been stomping around. It had to be artificial. Somehow the machines created the beams. It made sense, considering they fired them out of devices they held in their hands as well.

  “What are they, Dearic?” Aiyana asked.

  He lifted his head to look at her, though his eyes were drawn to the two elves as he noted Aiethelen was curled up beside Aiyana and Audurel was gently brushing her hair. Perhaps they would get lucky and find some elves having survived elsewhere. Maybe some had gone to Brivan recently. It was a long shot, considering they weren’t allowed there, but it was possible still.

  “I don’t know,” he said, his eyes gliding back to her golden ones. “We saw them once while patrolling the mountain paths, but they continued on without stopping. I didn’t think we’d see them again. Monstrosities with machines that can emit a light so intense it kills. A power worse than magic as it likely has no repercussions. Not much else to be said other than that we should avoid them at all costs.”

  “Can no be sure o’ dat,” Fanan said as she removed a boot and dumped the dirt out of it before putting it back on. “Is jus’ a guess.”

  “It is, yes. A reasonable one, though, considering the power seems to come from a device they carry, and it isn’t a stone like mine. Either way, we don’t know enough about them except that they kill whatever they see. We have to stay here and wait for my strength to come back, and then we’ll travel to Cartunnsa Hold. We can get help there. Supplies and clothing too.”

  “How long will that take?” Shakrin asked, his voice echoing back to them.

  “I don’t know,” Dearic said looking back to Aiyana. “But I hope it’s soon. If we stay here too long, they’ll likely find us.”

  “Well you better stop talking and rest, then.”

  Shakrin had a fair point. He offered Aiyana a small smile, which she returned, and then leaned his head back against the wall. Only as he did this did he realize how tired he truly was. His eyes drifted closed almost instantly. The last thing he heard was a few elvish words he didn’t quite understand, and then he was asleep.

  Epilogue

  “Forward!”

  The armies of Brivan marched towards the entrance to the underground Devan city. In it an elven hoard waited, prepared to do battle in their home. They would not come out of the caves, which meant the army had to go in. For many days they had sent forays into the caves, doing battle with the elves, but each time they were repulsed, both sides taking losses.

  “My King,
we have the drills in position,” a young lieutenant said, his shield tucked against his side and dominant hand holding a sword pointed toward the ground. “Shall we begin drilling?”

  “Wait until the soldiers enter the mouth. We don’t want them to get into a good position too soon.”

  “Yes, my King.”

  The man bowed and moved swiftly back towards where two monstrous hand turned machines waited. The siege machines had been designed for this very venture, but hadn’t ever been tested. Prior to their march they’d been collecting dust in storage as there hadn’t been the belief that they would ever actually be used. Now, however, the elves would learn that their underground fortress was not impregnable. Soon they would have soldiers of Brivan pushing into their halls from multiple directions. It would be what turned the tide in their favor, he was sure of it.

  As the soldiers entered the mouth of the tunnel, he heard the crank of the drills, each one separated by a hundred or so yards, as they began to dig. Men walked in circles around them, pushing giant cranks which turned the central corkscrew blade, pushing the metal beast into the dirt below, and churning it up and out. Other men worked swiftly to ferry dirt away in buckets, so they could keep the hole clear.

  “General Artes!” he yelled, lifting a gauntleted hand towards the man.

  The General, an aging man with liver spots and only a few wisps of hair left, though with the physique of a man in his prime, left his post at a nearby table and approached the King where he sat upon his horse.

  “Yes, my King?” he asked, offering one arm across his breastplate in salute.

  “Today is the day we break them, Sebastian. I want men ready to go into the tunnels the drills are boring, but keep pushing men down the main entry tunnel as well. Worry about losses after all is said and done. We end this today, and we take no prisoners. Dearic has failed to return, so I know that this war is right. We shall crush these elven schemers and show them what happens when they mess with us.”

  “I will have the men ready. They are eager for battle. Some overly so.”

  “Untested soldiers are either eager or frightened. I’d rather have eager. Frightened ones tend to run and we can’t afford that.”

  “I’m inclined to agree. Our losses have been heavy as it is. We’ve lost more than they have, I reckon. Not by a significant margin, but it’s great enough to be troublesome should things continue as they have been.”

  “Well, they won’t. The drills will work. We’ll soon be marching through their halls.”

  “Agreed. I will go see the men are in position.”

  King Thyne nodded his head and watched the general march away, grabbing a few of his officers to accompany him as he went to round up the troops. His horse whinnied and pranced, but there didn’t appear to be any reason for it. A kick to the sides sent the horse at a trot towards the mouth of the underground city. The troops were engaged in battle and a little morale boost wouldn’t hurt.

  As he drew nearer, he could hear the sounds of battle from within: the cries of pain and death, the clash of metal against metal, the shuffling of feet and shouted commands. He waded into the throngs of soldiers, sword held firmly in his right hand while his left held the reins. Fully armored with crown helm atop his head, glistening in gold and steel, he was a sight to see. He didn’t go into the tunnel itself, keeping just outside of it, but maneuvering his horse carefully to keep from trampling the soldiers.

  “Push forward!” he shouted. “You fight for all of Brivan! The Devan must be destroyed for their treachery! For the Minister!”

  Those around him, the ones that could actually hear him, shouted and surged forward, pushing on those ahead of them. Those inside of the tunnel would never hear him over the din of battle. This would go on for some time before he heard shouts rising from around the base of the small mountain nestled against the backdrop of the Spiral Mountains, and just close enough to The Bleak to bring the heat of the endless sands to rise about them. Inside the armor it was sweltering even on a cool day. With the heat wafting in from the nearby desert he had to take frequent water breaks.

  Riding his horse out of the throngs of men, he trotted back to the encampment and got some water from one of the attendants before turning his attention to where the shouting had risen from. One of the drills had stopped turning, the one nearest to them, and he could see soldiers swinging swords and axes, and jabbing with spears towards the hole. He rode his horse closer, and was able to see that they had breached the cavern below, but that the elves were pushing up despite the sunlight. His soldiers fought well, though, with the high ground, and were pushing forward slowly. It was certainly greater progress than what they’d had at the entrance.

  Riding around the throngs of soldiers waiting to do battle, he approached the second drill, which hadn’t yet penetrated the network of underground tunnels. The General was busy talking to his men as he approached, but before he could say anything the drill suddenly fell forward and disappeared into the ground. Upon seeing this, the soldiers rushed forward and began to enter the hole themselves. Here they entered fluidly, like water running off a mountain from the spring melt.

  “Push deeper into the caverns and some men turn towards the entry. Catch the bulk of their forces from behind!” the General shouted as the soldiers rushed in with little direction.

  They were too eager to fight and most of them were going to end up dead. Granted, most would have ended up dead even if they weren’t so eager to fight. That was the nature of war. He rode his horse up beside the general and dismounted, careful not to stab the horse with his sword as he did so. The clang of metal settling was nearly as loud as the roar of battle from within the tunnels.

  “You aren’t going in there?” the general questioned. “It’s far too dangerous.”

  “I may be the King,” he said as he lay his sword on his shoulder, “but I’m also a fighter. The men need to see me swinging my sword and cutting down foes. Besides, I want to kill the Devan queen myself. I can’t do that while sitting up here on my horse, can I?”

  “We could bring her out to you.”

  He snorted in response. “You and I both know, Sebastian, that she won’t let herself be taken alive.”

  The general sighed and nodded his agreement. If there was one thing about the Devan, they never surrendered. They would fight to the last man, woman or child. Any that were wounded but not dead would kill themselves before being taken. It was the same reason they’d gotten nothing out of the one that had come to Brivan.

  “Give your final orders, General. When you’ve done so, let us go to battle.”

  The general nodded and went to do as ordered while King Thyne walked towards the hole that soldiers were still pushing through. He stood waiting, in glistening armor, as the men rushed past. They all saw him and cheers broke out. He lifted his sword in salute to them as the last of the soldiers rushed through into the caverns below. A few minutes later the general returned with a small contingent of Knights, those with prestige and greater training among the armies of Brivan. Some moved ahead of him, others beside, but they all looked to him, waiting.

  “Well then. Let’s go and find us a queen to kill.”

  He moved forward, the Knights moving ahead and behind him. A metal boot sunk into disheveled dirt as he descended into the newly carved tunnel. It was surprising how deep they had to go. The fact that the bit had bored through the softer stone here was a feat to see as well. Limestone, mostly. The Spirals were shaped as they were because they were worn, limestone towers. Over the years, rains had swept part of them away, leaving large spirals pirouetting up into the sky. The limestone descended beneath the ground as well. The entirety of the Devan city was carved from it.

  Once they stood on the firm stone of a descending Devan tunnel, they turned to go deeper. Battle raged ahead and behind them, and there were bodies strewn around them. Human and elf bodies were strewn everywhere, but he stepped over and on them to move forward. The group pushed down into the caves, whe
re the elven defenses were thinner. Though they were elves, and supposedly wiser than all the races, they were still prone to the same failures as everyone else. They’d counted on being able to hold the main entrance to their home, and hadn’t planned for what happened if they didn’t. Now they were beset with a host of foes they were not prepared to deal with.

  They encountered only a few stragglers exiting side tunnels as they pushed towards the forward line. Each was cut down by a Knight before they even got close to him. Too bad it took so long to get the drills into position. We could have had this taken care of the first day, he thought to himself as they drew within sight of the soldiers fighting the elven rear guard. Each step forward brought them closer and closer to their goal now.

  As they drew upon the front line of soldiers, they were forced to enter the battle from the rear. They pushed soldiers forward, trampling over dead and dying bodies as they did so. He stabbed his sword forward at opportune times, sliding the blade between his own troops to strike at elves that had drawn too close. Their advance brought them deeper and deeper. Eventually the walls to either side of them stopped, leaving them atop a narrow stone bridge across a wide chasm to a central plateau where more elves waited, facing each direction outward.

  As they pushed forward, he could see his own troops pushing forward across each of the bridges, there were three of them, towards the central plateau. Numbers thinned on both sides. Many were pushed over the edge into the great darkness below them. Screams echoed from below, slowly dying away as each being fell too far to be heard. He pushed forward without a second thought, as he could see his quarry, seated on her throne, waiting for him. The battles behind them were an afterthought. Each swipe of his sword felled another foe, even as one of his own Knights might fall.