Within the Ice

by LaPolla, C. J.

  “Devyn, they are coming. Remain still, I love you.” She said in a voice as sweet as honey to Devyn’s ears.

  Devyn’s voice sounded like stone on gravel compared to the beauty in his wife’s voice “I will my love. Just be safe and protect the girls.”

  It was only moments later a loud rapping came from the door. It was an impatient sound of men with ill will in the hearts. There was only a brief silence before the loud sound of a gauntlet striking the door rang out into the house. Rana moved towards the door and it slammed open before her hand could reach it.

  “Man! Where is the man of the house?” Growled a gruff oafish sounding voice. Devyn’s anger flared as he heard Rana being pushed to the wall with a thud.

  Without waiting for an answer the man screamed “WHERE IS HE?”

  Devyn winced at the sound of the heavy boots creaking the wood above him, he knew soon they would begin searching through the home and would find the girls.

  “He’s dead! He died on the seas years ago. It is just me.” Rana croaked with a terror stricken voice.

  The warrior pushed Rana against the wall with a thud moving his lips against her cheek. “We’ll see about that won’t we.” And he ran his tongue along the ridge of her chin.

  Devyn could see none of this but he could hear the disgusted sound coming from his wife. The men that entered the house ransacked everything, pulling down cabinets and turning over chairs and tables. He could hear a man yell “Aha! She’s a liar Belgreth!”.

  Frida and Lil screamed as a man tossed both of them from their small room onto the kitchen floor. Heat rose into his face as he fingered his knife, dreaming of plunging it into the throats of the men who terrorized his family.

  “Belgreth, there are two daughters, she is not alone.” The man paused as he took Lil’s chin into his hands. “Where is your daddy, little bitch?”

  Tears streamed down Lil’s face as he squeezed her face tightly between his fingers. “Daddy died!” Lil screamed back at him.

  The man Belgreth moved into the center of the house. “Dead you say. Then you are alone.” He eyed Rana hungrily and smiled at the men at his side. “Must be lonely, waiting for a real man to sate your urges. Maybe we should take the three of you for our own?”

  Frida and Lil huddled together in the middle of the kitchen. Rana stood defiantly at the doorway with her hands behind her clutching a small wooden chest. If she were to be taken, one of them would have a caved in skull. Belgreth stalked towards Rana with a predators stride. Devyn inched ever closer to the edge of the home while he silently drew his knife, he ceased moving as he heard shouting coming from deeper into town.

  “Belgreth! We got a fighter get out here!” The sounds of a steel against steel sang out from beyond his home. The four men inside the house rushed outside and the door slammed behind them. Rana quickly ran over to her sobbing daughters. Devyn let loose a sigh of relief as he finally relaxed his white knuckled grip on the hilt of his knife.

  The sounds from deeper in the town rose from a single duel into a small skirmish as some men of the town attempted to take up arms against their raiders. A foolish move, Devyn knew, as it only brought on more repercussions for the townsfolk. The battle lasted only a few moments as the screams and dying cries of the townsfolk took over for the sounds of battle, Devyn knew the resistance was at an end. Devyn was relieved that the men had seemed to lose interest in Rana, but dreaded the thought that they were now tormenting some other family. He worried about the cold the evening would bring as he lay under the house, and shifted uncomfortably trying to find a position that didn’t cramp him.

  The shadows of two men walked outside of his home, the figures wore thick furs with bits of chain mail peaking from its edges. The first man, who possessed an air of command, wore a metal helmet with studs running along the edges and two uneven horns protruding from the sides. He raised a hand, stopping the other man who wore a helmet that covered his face. “Nael, we better make this quick. Bola’s men are not far behind and they will overrun us if we have not fortified. This town is nothing. There may only be a handful of able bodied men.”

  “The few that could fight did, and died in the streets for their valiant efforts.” The one named Nael added.

  “Fools. They would have been better off with us. We will take what we can get and move on. We are in no condition for a sustained engagement, we need to be better prepared. Come!” Both men stalked off into the distance, leaving only the memory of their conversation and the soft crunching sound of their heavy boots in the snow.

  Night slowly crept over Northspire as the unrelenting snow continued to fall heavily. Silence dominated the night, only to be broken by the occasional tearful cry of those lamenting their loss or the moans of the wounded. Devyn still lay in his hiding spot shivering as the snow slowly built up around his home.

  “Devyn.” Came a whisper from above him. Towards the edge of the house Rana lifted a floor board and shoved a large pile of thick dark furs on the muddy earth. Devyn crawled over, reached a hand up and held his wife’s hand lovingly for a brief moment, enjoying the warmth of her skin. She released his hand and replaced the floor board as Devyn wriggled his way back towards the center of the house. He snuggled tightly in the furs that she had passed down to him. Cold still leached into Devyn’s body and the cramped conditions left him aching, but sleep eventually found him. He drifted slowly into his dreams to a land where he did not worry about being thrust into servitude and where he could spend his life happily with the love of his life and two beautiful daughters.

  Chapter II

  In the town below, screams and yelling pierced the serene evening. Graen stared down onto the town from his perch high above and shook his head sadly. A green, intricate insignia of the Aelaar Thalas was emblazoned upon the chest piece of his gleaming scale armor, as he watched the entire event unfold beneath him.

  So violent the humans are. Graen thought to himself. They will never change and my interference will only cause more chaos. Graen sat within his small camp, gazing down on the turmoil with dread. He knew he could enter that town and destroy every living being in it with very little fear of injury as he was one of the great Aelaar of Isiir. Immortal, powerful, and veiled in mystery to most humans. In ages past, Aelaar had been called gods, but their entrance into human affairs was always met with chaos despite being seen as divine. Graen was not old enough to remember the days when Aelaar walked freely as the gods of humans, but he had heard the stories and seen the results to the south in the lands now scorched and broken. As a member of the warriors of Thalas, who was one of the original nine Aelaar, he wished he could change the nature of the humans that the ancient Aelaar created. He also knew to change them would be impossible.

  Graen stood up and could feel the power emanating from close by. He could feel the surges of ancient energy washing over him and hear the buzzing of some mystery in his ears. Something bigger beyond the raid of this town was about to befall these people and Graen was waiting to discover what had drawn him here.

  He leaned over and raised his sword which lay against his small tent and began a series of graceful stretches and movements. Graen would change from one form to the next with the ease of a man who has performed this art his entire life. The fluid movements went on for a long time as he thought about the potential battles ahead against enemies unknown. After an hour, without a bead of sweat on his body he placed the sword back into it’s scabbard and continued to gaze out onto the Isindril.

  He knew he must keep his body honed and pure for the battle that was to come. He did not know what lay beyond the waters of the Isindril that would soon change this town forever, all he knew is that he must wait for it. He was not alone in this quest, he could easily feel the presence of another Aelaar to the west. He knew not what the intentions of this Aelaar were, but he could feel that there would be no future but battle ahead of him. He also knew he would be ready for whatever was to come.

  Eldgrim sat crouched on a rock far
from the town, enjoying the spectacle of chaos that unfolded before him. A smile creased his face as he watched the men in the town fighting one another. He breathed deep savoring the sounds of battle and wishing he could take part in it, but his mission was far too important for simple entertainment. He lived for battle, but battling humans was too easy. He preferred a battle with another Aelaar, one of which he could feel was nearby. The energy of the Aelaar to the east danced through his body invigorating him. Alas, his mission was again too important for even such sport as that. The power radiating from the sea was as alluring as a woman’s scent and equally seductive, he could feel himself even now being drawn towards what lay beyond.

  “Eldgrim, you must do this thing.” He remembered his Master saying to him in a deep powerful voice. “I can feel the power from here and we must possess it.”

  “I will do as you ask Master.” Eldgrim knelt before a man who sat upon a dark stone chair built into the side of a cave.

  “Be wary in your journey. I feel a power emanating from the lands north that has not touched this land since before I. And we must possess this power.”

  “It will be done. I will be sure of it.”

  Eldgrim remembered the past conversation with joy. Never before has his lord given him so much attention, to be trusted with an important assignment. He had trained his entire four hundred years on Isiir to become an unstoppable fighter and felt ready for anything that could befall him. He knew he would make short work of the Aelaar to the east and find this totem or weapon that would soon reveal itself, returning to his master victorious and a champion.

  It was more than Eldgrim had ever hoped for and he vowed to himself at that moment he would not fail. He smiled again as he looked out into the dusky sky, and heard the sounds coming from the nothing town of Northspire. He heard the battle ensuing within and the screams of the women and men being plucked from their homes. He snatched up his black scabbard, breathing in the smell of it with exultation. He drew the sword slowly, enjoyed the sound of metal on leather and felt the serrated blade sing on its way out. Eldgrim breathed deep and took in the sight of his beloved weapon. Nothing brought Eldgrim greater joy than feeling the weight of his trusted sword in his hands as he smoothly guided it through the air as snow fell heavily from the sky. Eldgrim began a series of forms and movements of a fighter who has performed the same movements all of his life. He was a picture of grace and perfection with each movement flowing from one to another. As he performed his forms, Eldgrim remembered the thousands of battles he’s taken part in with joy, all of them culminating to this point in time where he would shine and become the warrior he had trained so long to be.

  Devyn woke with his body wracked with aches and pains from being cramped underneath his home, but he was safe. The town was still as everyone huddled in their homes awaiting to hear the word that the army had moved on. Devyn thought about the turmoil of the evening as he awkwardly attempted to massage his own shoulders. The men of the raiding parties seemed rushed and agitated. They had the look of an army on the run rather than an organized, confident force. From the center of town Devyn could just make out the sounds of shouting, there was no panic in this shouting and he quickly assumed it was a crier calling the all clear.

  Mayor Barowyn acted as the town crier under these circumstances and Devyn could hear his booming voice echoing through the streets. “All clear! All clear!”

  Slowly, Devyn shuffled on his stomach towards the edge of the house. Rana had already begun to dig him out. As he approached he could hear the sounds of a shovel driving into the new fallen snow. The frozen ground was difficult to dig and earned Devyn many new scratches as he squeezed his way past the hardened earth. A few cuts were worth his family being safe and whole once again. A very dirty and tired Devyn looked around the neighborhood as he saw multiple men coming out of hiding spots one could not imagine. It was almost comical as he watched one man uncask himself from a pickling barrel and another climb from the trusses of their shack-like home. None of these men cared about the nature of their last evening, they were merely happy to be safe for another day. As is customary when a tragedy such as this strikes the town, the people moved towards the town center to get an update on the state of the things.

  Rana placed the shovel against the house and Devyn embraced his wife lovingly as his girls came bursting from the house to hug him.

  “I was worried for a minute there, love.” Devyn said with his wife’s head buried in his shoulder.

  She looked up at him with reddened eyes. “Oh Devyn, I had everything under control.” She smiled brightly at her husband and the four of them began following the crowd moving towards the center of town.

  The solemn trail of Northspire citizens moved slowly with families embracing each other as they moved. For every tear of joy there was an equal number of tears of despair as families not only faced the fact that their loved one had been ripped from their lives, but they pondered how they would survive a winter without their family whole. Devyn and his family passed a street where the new fallen snow was crimson with the blood of the men who valiantly fought the attackers. Three men with cloth over their faces and thick gloves picked up the dozen men who had made a valiant, yet futile, stand. Devyn paused a moment to stare with sadness at one of the bodies. One of the dozen men who had fought was the captain of the Breaker who only hours before laughed with him on the docks. The men lifted the lifeless body of Captain Nuirn and carried it off deeper into the town. Devyn wiped his eye to fight back the tear which attempted to escape.

  Thankfully, for Devyn, Northspire was a small town and after spending an evening stuck under a house he did not know how much more walking he could take. As the town square opened up in front of them, he could clearly see old white haired and white bearded Mayor Barowyn discussing something with his advisers. The impotent council of Northspire didn’t hold themselves above what they were, puppets. But they did their best to try to make life for the citizens here as good as possible in light of any tragedy that struck. It was another fifteen minutes before Mayor Barowyn raised his hand to shush the crowd, even then very few listened and conversation continued. Despite all of this, Barowyn began his lecture of the state of the town.

  “My friends! I am sorry for what has befallen us and I am sorry for those that have lost valuable members of their households. The docks are closed for the day while we take tally of our losses and everyone can pull some semblance of normalcy back. We are doing everything…”

  The mayor continued but Devyn no longer listened. The hollow words of the Mayor were always the same, We will endure, we will rebuild, those who have lost will be helped and most of all we will thrive. What could a mayor with no power give to those who have lost fathers and brothers and sons? Family they will never see again. What could the mayor do for the families that had no way to make a living? Nothing and those families would lose their homes and everything they had worked so hard for in this forsaken land. The mayor was a good man, but kindness is met harshly in Isiir and there is nothing good intentions could do for those suffering so dearly.

  The mayor continued for another five minutes, some faces even appeared more brightened by his words, most shared Devyn’s dark opinion of how things would play through. Devyn looked at his daughters and wife “We should go home. There is nothing out here but a reminder of it all and I miss my bed.” He finished with an impish smile at his two daughters who giggled quietly at their father. Putting his arms around them all as best he could they made their way back home.

  When they passed the street with the bodies, they saw it had been cleaned up and the snow turned over to hide as much blood as possible, though it still held a pinkish hue. They arrived home quickly and entered their house to pick up the pieces of what the men destroyed. There was no major damage to the house it was just a disheveled mess with nothing more than items to pick up off the floor.

  When there was a moment of quiet, Devyn went into the small area which acted as a room for him and
his wife and laid down on the soft furs placed on the floor. Rana crawled next to him and put her arm across his chest. They both lay there a long time content before either spoke.

  “We got lucky Rana.” Rana tilted her head slightly to meet his eyes with a questioning look. “I heard two of the men outside when I was under the house. I heard them talking about another army that they were fighting and they had to move on quickly.”

  “There is always another army.” Rana proclaimed exhaustedly.

  “There is always another army.” Devyn mimicked. “But we best be careful and be ready to do the same at any time. I think the next army to come through is the one that won. So they will be a bit more enthusiastic.”

  Rana snuggled against her husband and closed her eyes exhaling contently. “Worry, worry my dear. We’ll manage. We have so far, even if I have to squish you through the floor boards to keep you safe.”

  He kissed his wife on the forehead as they both decided to doze off for a few moments in the early afternoon.