by Jamie Davis
“Leave them. The ground’s too frozen to allow us to dig any graves and we need to pick up our pace and catch up with my tribe. They have to be warned there’s a Grendling war band around.”
“These people deserve some sort of burial or something,” Hal protested. “You may not care about them, Ragnar, but someone does, somewhere. It’s the right thing to do.”
“I do care about them. They are from my tribe, a hunting party probably, and they stay where they are. We cannot let the Grendlings know we were here if they pass by this way again. They’d expect someone to move the bodies and that will be their alert to track us. We have to leave, now, before they return.”
“Kay and I can fight. We will stand against them. They have to pay for what they’ve done to these people.”
“Our priority is to the living, not the dead. We move onward and warn the rest of the tribe. That’s final. Now, come on. We’ve got to move.”
Ragnar took off at a jog, his hand axe in one hand, a short sword in the other. Hal and Kay exchanged glances and he spared one last look at the scattered bodies then the two of them ran to catch up with their guide.
The ice mage set a grueling pace and Hals lungs soon burned from inhaling the cold, dry air as they ran along the trail. Judging by the wheezing coming from Kay, she was doing little better. After the end of the second hour at the pace Ragnar set, Hal had enough.
“Ragnar, we have to rest. Kay and I can go no further until we catch our breath.”
The mage stopped and came back down the trail to where Hal and Kay were hunched over, struggling to regain their breath.
“We cannot stop here, boy. There’ve been signs of the Grendling war band for the last mile. They are close but spread out. If we stop, they’ll be able to gather their group and attack us. We have to keep moving.”
Hal straightened and scanned the scrub trees in the small hollow where they’d stopped. It was lucky he did. He spotted the gray-green skin of the creature as it stepped out from behind a tree and drew back on its bow to take a shot at the trio.
Hal didn’t have time to think and he acted on instinct.
Shoving Ragnar to the ground, Hal brought up his round ice shield just as the Grendling released the arrow.
Hal made the shield as broad as he dared while keeping the ice a sufficient thickness to hopefully stop the incoming missile.
It worked.
The arrow snapped and broke apart when it impacted Hal’s shield. Two more arrows shattered and fell to the ground next to the first.
Two other Grendlings had emerged next to the first. Dropping their bows, the three creatures, their gray-green bodies wrapped in thick furs, pulled out wicked barbed war axes and charged at the trio of humans on the trail.
Hal barely had time to materialize his ice armor before the lead Grendling set upon him. The leader's war axe descended and took a chunk out of the edge of the ice shield.
That was the problem with making it too thin, Hal thought, shaking his head. The lighter, broader shield could stop an arrow but not those heavy iron axes.
Kay had her triangular kite shield in place and met the second Grendling with her sword in hand. Hal drew one of his daggers and tried to reconfigure his shield to a more useful size on the fly, while the lead creature continued to hammer at it.
Ragnar was on his feet now and had donned his ornate armor, suddenly covered in gleaming, reflective plates of translucent ice. The third attacker, the largest of the three, focused on Ragnar.
The ice mage had sheathed his short sword and extended his hand with fingers spread and pointing at the incoming Grendling.
The creature’s eyes widened, and a frightened yelp escaped as six-inch shards of ice darted from the mage’s hand heading straight at its face.
Hal didn’t have time to see if the ice shards impacted or not. His Grendling had finally hacked his way through Hal’s shield and he couldn’t manage to reform it in time to stop the next attack.
Rather than just stand there, Hal chose to charge the creature, trying to get inside the arc of the bigger weapon borne by the Grendling.
Hal’s ice-encased torso slammed into the lighter creature and the two of them fell to the ground before the sweep of the war axe completed its swing.
The axe skittered away as the Grendling let go of the larger weapon and fumbled for a knife on its belt. Hal’s free hand scrabbled to get a grip on the hand reaching for the knife while he tried to stab downward with his dagger, evading the Grendling’s other outstretched hand trying to stop him.
The Grendling missed its grab at his dagger hand and Hal was able to bring his blade down and strike at the creature’s shoulder. A snarling grunt told him he’d managed a hit on his opponent.
Hal brought the dagger up to strike again when a roundhouse punch caught him on the right cheek and sent him sprawling to the side.
He shook his head to recover from the blow and rolled over on his back to meet the attack he knew was coming. The Grendling had regained his feet and picked up his weapon from the ground. He lifted the axe to strike down at Hal lying on the ground.
There was one chance and Hal took it. The familiar, rumbling slot machine of Hal’s luck sounded in his mind as he extended his hand just as he’d seen Ragnar do seconds earlier. He thought he had the theory of what the mage had done to create the flying ice shards. It was time to see if he guessed right.
Hal grabbed at all the moisture he could draw toward himself and froze it as fast as he could, driving it outward at the same instant.
His effort worked better than he’d planned. Instead of a series of dart-like shards, a single, giant shard formed and drove forward, taking the Grendling standing over him in the chest and knocking him backward into the ground.
Shocked at the power of his impromptu spell, Hal sat up to see his opponent pinned to the ground by the four-foot-long ice shard, eyes glazing over as it stared unseeing at the blue sky above. The slot machine pinged with success as his luck played out in his favor once more.
500 experience awarded.
Kay had finished off her attacker and Ragnar sat atop his foe, belt knife pressed to the creature’s throat. The Mage spoke to the Grendling in what must be the creature’s native tongue. Hal couldn’t understand a word of what they said.
Whatever was said, the Grendling snarled and launched spittle into Ragnar’s face. His beard dripped with the creature’s spit and Ragnar howled with rage. He drove the knife up under the Grendling’s chin, through its throat and into its brain. It spasmed once then lay still.
Kay stood over the mage looking down at the dead Grendling.
“I hope you managed to learn what they were up to before you let him goad you into killing him.”
“I did. They were offered a great bounty from the Emperor himself for my head delivered to the mage hunters who are currently on a ship anchored off the northern coast. It seems they grew tired of trying to track me down themselves and decided to enlist the Grendlings to hunt me down. That was why they tortured the hunting party. They were trying to extract my whereabouts from them before killing them.”
Hal climbed to his feet, brushing himself off and retrieving his dagger from the ground. Ragnar stood as well and gestured to the Grendling still pinned to the ground by the long shard of ice.
“Nice ice lance. How’d you figure that out?”
“I saw you shoot the darts from your hands. I tried to do the same thing and overcompensated a bit.”
Ragnar shrugged. “It did the trick. When in doubt, go for overkill. You may not get a second chance. Good work, though. Looks like you are processing the use of your magic faster than I thought. That’s good because things are likely to get dicey fast with the Emperor’s lackeys roaming about up here and stirring up the Grendling bands.”
“We should get moving again,” Kay suggested. “There have to be more of these things around. Like you said. If we stay still too long, they’ll be able to gang up on us.”
“The g
irl’s right,” Ragnar agreed. “Come on. With luck, we’ll catch up with the tribal camp by nightfall. Hopefully, the Grendlings haven’t attacked before then.”
After a final scout around to make sure they weren’t advancing into a trap, the trio set off at an increased pace once more. Urgency overcame exhaustion and Hal dug deep into his reserves to keep going. They had to warn Ragnar’s tribe of the impending attack.
9
It took the three of them a little longer than expected to catch up to the roving tribe. It was near midnight by Hal’s reckoning when they encountered the first sentries outside the camp.
“Hold!” a voice called out of the darkness. “Identify yourselves.”
“Alfric, stand down. We are friends, not foes.”
“That you, Rags?”
A shadow detached from a boulder outside the camp, outlined by the campfires beyond. The figure was massive, standing well over six and a half feet tall. Ragnar stepped forward and approached the sentry.
“Where’s Tripp? I have to speak to him right away.”
“He’s in the camp. Who’s that with you?”
Ragnar gestured to Hal and Kay to step closer.
“These are some friends of mine. They’re traveling with me for the time being. Hal, Kay, this is Alfric.”
Hal and Kay both nodded a greeting before Ragnar continued his explanation.
“Look, we have to rouse the camp. There’s a Grendling war band out there. They killed Karn and the others in her hunting party a day’s travel east of here.”
As Hal got closer, the shadow solidified into a broad-shouldered northern tribesman in chainmail and thick furs. He wore a square steel helm atop his chainmail coif.
“Grendlings? There hasn’t been a dispute with them for generations. You’re mistaken, surely.”
“I wish I were. We were attacked this afternoon by an advance party on the trail between here and where I found Karn and the others.”
“Tripp is in the central yurt. You know how to find it.”
Ragnar nodded.
“Spread the word among the sentries to be watchful for signs of the Grendling approach. Unless I miss my guess, they’ll likely be here in eight hours, if not sooner.”
Alfric gave Ragnar a sharp nod and started around the camp’s perimeter spreading the word of the impending attack.
The three travelers passed through and made their way into the camp. Despite the late hour, there were several men and women up and about inside the campsite. All seemed to know Ragnar and called out greetings to him as they passed.
Soon they made their way to the large central yurt. It consisted of caribou-felt canvas stretched over a portable wooden frame. There were many like it in the camp, but this one was significantly larger than the others scattered around it and could probably hold up to twenty-five or thirty people inside.
“Wait here,” Ragnar told them. “I must talk with the chieftain before I introduce you. He’s distrustful of strangers.”
The mage pulled aside a felt curtain draped over the entrance and disappeared inside. Hal and Kay waited outside. Voices, muffled by the distance and the thick felt walls, drifted out from inside. Judging by what he could pick up of the tone, someone was more than a little upset.
The entry curtain was pulled aside, and Ragnar’s face appeared from the interior. Golden light emanating from inside backlit the mage's face.
“Come in but stay silent and let me do the talking. Tripp is a little angry about me bringing you both here when the mage hunters are so close by. I told him they were hunting me and not you, but he doesn’t want to take the chance.”
“You’re the boss,” Hal said. He pulled the curtain aside to hold it for Kay, then followed close behind.
Inside the yurt were several sleeping platforms created by stacks of furs on the tarp-covered ground. People were waking and getting dressed in armor or buckling on weapons.
“Are these the two new mages you told me about?” The big chieftain wore his blonde beard braided into two thick ropes of hair hanging down to his chest. He scowled at Hal and Kay. “I’m still more than a little pissed you brought them here.”
“Only one of them is a mage, Tripp. The other’s just good to have around in a fight. We’ll be able to lend a hand.”
“You’re sure these Grendlings are going to attack?”
“The one I questioned before he died told me all I needed to hear. They have been whipped up to a bit of a frenzy by the Imperials anchored in the North Sea off the coast of their central village. I don’t think they had much choice to come and find me.”
“How many are there? Maybe we can hold them off long enough to parlay and broker a peace.”
Ragnar shook his head.
“I was told three full war bands. That’s nearly two hundred warriors. You are going to want to run. Standing and fighting will be suicide. Think of the women and children, Tripp.”
Hal couldn’t hold his tongue any longer.
“Ragnar, if they’re looking for us, why don’t we let them see us and lead them on a chase away from the camp?”
“Way ahead of you, boy. That’s exactly what we’re going to do, but I fear they won’t settle for leaving Tripp and the tribe behind them to harass their supply lines. They might opt not to attack the camp, but I don’t think we can afford to take that chance.”
“I agree,” Tripp replied. “We need to get everyone ready to travel before dawn. If we can move on before they arrive, it might let them know we mean them no harm.”
“What can we do to help?” Kay offered. “I don’t want to get in the way but I’m keen to help somehow.”
Tripp thought for a few seconds and nodded.
“You two can relieve some of the sentries from the perimeter if you’re willing. They’ll be needed to dismantle the yurts. That would be a huge help.”
Kay smiled. “We can certainly do that. Ragnar, we will go speak to that big sentry we passed on the way in.”
“Good, go and do that,” Ragnar agreed. “Have Alfric send those he can spare to me, and I’ll assign them tasks when they get here.”
Hal and Kay left the central yurt and made their way back to the edge of the camp. They found Alfric by the big boulder along the trail into the campsite. After telling him what they were there to do, he found a pair of guards who could be spared to go help in the camp and settled the two visitors to cover the approach to a steep hillside on the southern boundary of the tribe’s camp.
After sending the tribesman back with Alfric to help with breaking down the camp and packing everything to move, Hal and Kay prepped their position in case they encountered any approaching Grendlings. While he’d demonstrated he could create a larger missile made of ice, he had not mastered small precision darts like he’d seen Ragnar cast.
Kay started making a round of the perimeter in their area and Hal practiced creating smaller and smaller ice missiles until he was able to create a pair of six-inch long ice daggers he could direct to fly straight in whatever direction he faced. It still wasn’t the six missiles he saw Ragnar create but he suspected that came with practice and increased level.
After walking the perimeter twice and scouting out away from the hilltop about 50 yards, Kay returned and sat on a low, flat stone.
“What’s the plan if they do come at the camp from this direction?” Kay asked.
Hal stopped and looked down the slight rise to the rolling plain extending away from them.
“We only have to stop them for a short time until the tribe’s rear guard arrives to help hold them back.”
“Too bad we can’t slow them down, so they don’t reach us on the hilltop before help arrives,” Kay said while she scanned the horizon. “There’s no time to build any fortifications.”
“Maybe we can do something to disperse and confuse them.” Hal stopped and snapped his fingers. “I wonder.”
Hal stood up and walked to the edge of the hilltop. “This should work if what Ragnar told me about
ice magic in the beginning was true.”
Kay joined him but didn’t say anything.
Hal closed his eyes and imagined what it would look like if a fog bank rolled down the hill from his position.
Kay gasped, and Hal opened his eyes to see a fine mist extending outward from his hands and flowing down the hillside, thickening into dense fog as it spread out. He held onto the spell as long as he could, about thirty seconds, before he had to let it go. It was kind of like holding your breath. At some point, you had to let go and breath again. When he created the fog bank, it had the same sensation.
Spell learned — Wall of Fog.
700 experience awarded.
Level Up!
Hal knew he could increase the size and duration of the fog with practice but for a first try, it wasn’t half bad. Anyone trying to approach their position would enter the small fog bank and hopefully become disoriented giving he and Kay the chance to pick them off one at a time as they exited the thick mist.
“Uh oh!” Kay pointed beyond the wall of fog he’d created. They could see over top of it to the far side. Gray-green figures advanced across the plain in their direction.
The Grendlings had arrived. They were here much sooner than expected. As he watched the enemy approach, he picked out something else in the distance. Squinting, Hal spotted a line of six horsemen riding behind the advancing Grendling force.
“Kay, I think the mage hunters have joined the battle. They’re either here for Ragnar or me. Go and tell Ragnar they’re here. I’ll do something else to slow them down while you’re gone.”
“Hal, we’re sentries. We’re not supposed to fight the battle on our own.”
“Don’t worry; I only want to slow them down. The fog is a good start but once they find their way through, all they have is this hill to climb and they’ll be storming into a camp full of families on the run. Every second I can buy is more time for them all to head east away from the attack.”
Kay spared a single glance in the enemy’s direction then started down the far side of the hill towards the camp. She called out to Hal as she hurried off.
