Within the Ice

by LaPolla, C. J.

  A voice that could be none other than Hrodny rose up. “Ah, he wakes!”

  Another voice broke in. “I do not understand Hrodny, we should have left this man to die. I’m sure he is responsible for at least a few of our men’s deaths.”

  “You did not see him fight Bola! The scum we have picked up are nothing compared to him. Trained! A trained man is worth a hundred of these pathetic wretches.” Devyn could see him eying the men around him. “Present company included!” He finished with a deep chuckle that said deep inside he was not joking.

  Devyn who had started to sit up fell back in dismay. His worst fears realized, not only had he been captured by another warlord’s army, they now have realized how useful he could be to them. He was in no condition or position to make any escape attempt. While the pain had ceased he could feel he was still very weak.

  Another man’s voice spoke out. “I trust Hrodny’s judgment on this one. That man is not why we meet. We need to make a decision and soon. Our scouts already report Rakgar’s men are scouting the glacier, if we are to make a move we must assemble a party and move out. Hrodny, assemble yourself eighty men and prepare them to leave in the morning. We must beat Rakgar’s men to whatever lay beyond.” He paused to look around the room. “If the legends are true, we will all soon own a harem of women and live comfortably in the south!”

  Raucous laughter filled the room as they seemed to be celebrating the victory they hadn’t won yet. Devyn only shook his head and watched as Hrodny walked over to him. Hrodny approached and held out his hand towards Devyn.

  “Take it. Rise. You are with me.”

  Devyn rolled to his side. Hrodny gave him a light kick to the side. “Get up! Our kind do not lay on the ground while there is battle to be fought.” He kicked him again this time a bit more forceful and irritatedly Devyn took his hand.

  “See, on your feet, like a man. I remember you, I remember when we first met. I made you a promise then that I intend to uphold if you do not obey.” He turned and patted a shovel head that was held firmly within his belt. “You attack me again, I will plant this firmly in your skull.” Hrodny smiled a mirthless smile.

  “What choice do I have then.” Devyn returned the smile that never reached his eyes. “How long was I out?”

  “Many hours, we found you frozen in the field. I saw you fight in the battle with my men. Impressive. You are worth more alive than dead. Otherwise, I would have left you to rot. What is your name warrior?” Hrodny said curtly.

  “So good to be wanted.” Devyn said sarcastically as he wondered if being wanted was better than being left to die. “Name’s Devyn, lead the way.” Devyn said running his hand through his hair realizing for the first time that his head has been bandaged. Hrodny reached onto a pole towards the entrance of the tent and tossed Devyn a thick fur robe. Devyn felt himself filled with warmth as he pulled the heavy robe over his shoulders.

  As they departed the commander’s tent Hrodny pointed to a larger makeshift tent that held a warm light and a smell that, by the standards of one so hungry, was good. “Go get fed and armed. If you run off, I will make it my personal mission to devour your heart. We leave in the morning and you are coming with me.” Hrodny barked at Devyn before wandering off.

  He looked out over the encampment and quickly saw it was a husk of its former glory. Most tents were gone and large swaths of now frozen mud caked the once snow covered earth. He could not escape the constant nagging need to discover the fate of his family. The pain of not knowing what had befallen them consumed him. He knew though if he were to flee here, in the unlikely event that his family did survive, Hrodny would have them killed for his treachery. His best hope was to accept his fate, do his time and escape back to his family when this was all done.

  Devyn felt strangely resigned to his fate and he limped his way into the warm, inviting tent. The smells of food wafted out, lulling him towards them. After an entire night of constant battle, Devyn felt as if he was starving and entered the tent to find a sullen, and injured, group of men. While the army of Bola had clearly defeated Rakgar’s men in the field of battle, neither side was immune to the cataclysm that took place and the men within the room showed it. Many were caked in mud as they sat huddled sullenly over their gruel sipping it slowly still shivering from the cold which had leached into their bones. Many others wore bandages and limped heavily on bruised or broken bones. Devyn stood in the line of men and was handed a wooden bowl. He held it in front of him while the line grew ever closer to the cooks who filled it with a brown, thick stew.

  Once his bowl was filled, he found a place at the long benches which were still soggy from the crash of water. Huddled over his steaming stew, he slowly lowered his spoon and brought it to his lips. The thick, grainy soup held chucks of something he hoped was meat and it tasted like the color brown. That was the best he could describe the taste. But it was hot and when the thick, hot goo entered his stomach it filled him with a warmth that spread throughout his entire body. The warmth alone was enough to make him continue ingesting the vile food.

  It wasn’t long before another man sat across from him who did the same as Devyn. His face grimaced as the brown liquid touched his lips but a smile spread across his face as it touched his stomach. Devyn quickly realized that it was Dorm that sat across from him. Blood caked the side of his face and his clothes looked frozen from being soaked through. A thick wool blanket covered him as he remained staring only at his gruel.

  “You’ve seen better days my friend.”

  Dorm looked up with a strain in his eyes that showed no happiness at seeing his friend. Unshed tears stood in his eyes. “Devyn. Devyn my friend.” His head slumped down quickly as tears dripped onto the table.

  Devyn reached out and touched his friend on the shoulder. “What is wrong, Dorm?”

  He lifted his gaze to reveal reddened eyes. “I made it home. When the fighting started I got away. I got to my door just as the wave hit the town.” Devyn could clearly see his friend straining to speak, he gripped his shoulder more tightly. “I held her hand my friend. They were all in my hands. My wife. My children.” He squeezed his eyes shut and tears began to well. He had obviously held back these tears for so long that now, among his long time friend, they fell from his eyes unbidden.

  “Dorm, no need to continue. I understand.” He held he’s friends shoulder firmly trying to be reassuring. “I am sorry.”

  Dorm sobbed openly at this time. Devyn knew there was nothing he could do for his friend but he kept his hand on his arm squeezing hoping that it would give him some comfort from the horror that he faced. He felt selfish at the fact that all he could think of, as his friend relayed his story, was what the fate of his family was and wondered if a similar story was awaiting him when he finally did return home. Dorm sobbed for a short time and slowly began to eat. The two men sat there a long time while Dorm remained in his dark place. Gloom covered him like a blanket and Devyn could feel the pain rolling off of him.

  “Devyn.” His eyes raised slowly.

  “Yes Dorm?” Devyn tried to sound compassionate when his thoughts were still laden with the thoughts of his family.

  “Rana and the girls. They’re alive.”

  Happiness swelled within Devyn and he could not help but feel the smile spread across his face which he bent his head low to hide his expression from his friend who had suffered greatly.

  Dorm continued “I saw them as I walked back to the camp to join this army. Rana pleaded with me to remain but I walked on. If I remained in town, I would die a broken man many years from now. The way I see it, with this army I will die a warrior’s death and be rejoined with my family soon.”

  There was no breaking through the barrier of gloom that his friend had been encased in. They sat silently and finished their meals. When the last of the goo was scooped from the bowl Dorm finally raised his head again.

  “The army is going to move into the glacier tomorrow. I am going.”

  “As am I.” Replied
Devyn. “It appears we’ll be facing this one together, just like everything else for these past years.”

  The faces around the men on the bench changed many times over the hours. There were times of silence, times of reflecting on the past, and even on some occasions of laughter. They spoke of the ways things were before the horrible previous day. Their lives had changed so fast over the past day that it was difficult for them to remember all of the details that had taken place in that time. They painstakingly detailed each others evenings, ignoring Dorm’s journey into town, and explained how they both ended up here.

  Amazed that their stomaches had actually been able to keep the brown liquid down they finally rose from their bench. The first priority was to get Dorm’s head taken care of. Devyn was invigorated by a new found motivation that his wife and daughters were alive and would be okay until he was able to escape. His new found goal was to help his friend find the motivation to go on while on this trek. He would not allow Dorm to go on a journey just to find his death.

  They left the mess tent just as a heavy snow started to fall. Thick, wet flakes dropped on an already soggy ground. The tidal wave left enough water on everything to cause the ground to freeze into a solid block of ice which made walking extremely difficult. Many times both Dorm and Devyn found themselves grabbing hold of the other to keep their balance. Neither of them knew where the infirmary tent would be, but they merely listened for the sound of the injured cries and followed that.

  A thick blanket of wet snow covered the ground as they followed the sounds and train of injured soldiers marching towards a large infirmary tent. The smell of rot, and shit, and blood hit them immediately, The tent was full of injured men, many of them stared blankly at the tent above. Some, with their fingers reaching in unnatural angles, had been gone for some time. The smell was unimaginable, but a smell that was all too familiar for Devyn. In war, the battle was only the first part that could take you. A wound in the field could fester and rot taking a man just as quickly as a blade when the fever set in. He watched many men take but a small wound on the field and within two days they were burning hot and would collapse or fall from their horse.

  Eventually a man walked near them and gruffly pushed Dorm’s head to the side looking over his wound. He reached into a side pocket on his thick black robe and tossed him some bandages.

  “Waters over there.” He pointed to a large trough with three men kneeling around it. “Clean it off and wrap those on your head. You’ll be fine.” Then the “doctor” sulked off.

  Dorm and Devyn approached the trough and their eyes widened with horror. The water was barely water at all. It was red and vile with occasional human parts floating within. Dorm backed away and shook his head quickly. What made the whole scene worse is the heavily injured men, some with large gashes into their bodies, that were sitting around the trough spooning handfuls of the vile water into their mouths. They both had had enough and quickly escaped the dismal scene.

  Again amazed that the brown stew was able to stay down in their stomaches after such an experience, they moved away from the horrific tent. Immediately outside the smell improved and sat beside one of the many tents that were beginning to rise up again after being destroyed. The camp contained nowhere near the amount it did before many of them were damaged beyond repair, but it slowly came close to its former glory.

  Devyn cupped snow in his hand and held it close causing it to melt, he then pushed the slushy snow onto his friends head scrubbing it roughly. The matted black blood turned red and began to run down his neck. After many cups of snow, Devyn found a small cut behind Dorm’s ear. Using Dorm’s shirt they dried off the wound and Devyn wrapped his head tightly.

  “How did you get wounded?” Devyn asked.

  Dorm looked up as if trying to remember. “I didn’t just prance my way home. I had to fight. I used what you taught me or else I’d be dead for sure. One man caught me upside the head and nicked me right behind the ear as I got ‘em.”

  Devyn nodded as he finished wrapping his wounds. When he was finished he sat back with a huff. As they both sat there in the ever deepening snow with bandages wrapped around their heads, Devyn began to laugh. “Aren’t we a sight of powerful warriors?”

  Dorm returned the smile, although Devyn could clearly see nothing but pain lurked behind the grin. “We are indeed.”

  After a short time they rose and moved their way towards a line of men who were obviously getting equipped for the journey to come. The line was long and the men around him seemed excited.

  “We get our share when the treasure is found!”

  “One hundred gold coins!”

  “Each of us get a castle!”

  Devyn shook his head at some of the conversations that were had as they remained in the line of men. Obviously, they had been promised great things to venture out onto the ice with the army, and obviously some of them were creating their own lies to justify their dangerous venture. Devyn knew they would see none of those things. For three years he remained with the same army and for three years he was promised wealth. He had his allowances for his time served and his good service, but never did he see a small amount of the treasure and booty they acquired over their time in battle. The warlords were always good for promises, but always made those promises with the hopes that those soldiers would be dead and new soldiers acquired before they had to make good on their dues. Such was the way of things and Devyn did not expect this army to be any different just as he did not expect the men within the army to not believe in their high hopes.

  As the day wore on the sun remained hidden behind the clouds and snow still rained down from above covering the devastation that was left in the wake of the wave and earthquake as they both still waited in a line of men. Before long they were within the tent and they could clearly see the army’s quartermaster barking out commands to his subordinates behind him who would quickly gather gear for the man in front of him.

  Devyn and Dorm approached the heavy set man with the shaking jowls behind the desk.

  “More meat?” the fat man laughed heartily.

  Rage billowed from Devyn. Devyn had no need to respect this man, he had no need to not cut him down. This army was only a means to an end to keep his family safe. But he held his tongue, he held it for Rana and Dorm and Lil and Frida. He held his tongue so he could weather this storm safely and get himself, and his friend, out of this. It was for all those reasons Devyn only responded with, “Yes, more meat. This meat needs equipment for our trek onto the ice.”

  “I know maggot, names?” They gave him their names and he continued. “Fyg, Gahr. Ice gear and pick axes.” He eyed the two men. “Swords and chain as well.”

  The man started to scrawl onto a huge ledger in front of him. Devyn responded with a smile and a nod in thanks.

  “That gear goes missing. I’ll have your arses on a spike!” the quartermaster yelled as they approached the men who were obviously the assistants Fyg and Gahr.

  The packages for the men’s equipment were already prepared. This army, while a rabble of weak soldiers, was relatively organized in preparing their equipment. The gear was placed in front of them. It contained two heavy suits of rusty, poorly made chain armor and a thick suit of furs. Spiked boot straps hung on the side of their backpacks that held a pick ax, a regular hand ax, a bed roll, and many other useful tools. Dorm and Devyn gathered their heavy belongings and limped out of the tent. Neither of their bodies had truly recovered from their ordeal and they could both use a week’s worth of rest.

  Both men wandered until they found the area designated for a barracks which consisted of a large tent of which half lay in ruins. The smell of wet furs and unwashed bodies pervaded the area and the warriors cough, the one so prevalent to Devyn on so many campaigns, was incessant. In much need of rest they lowered themselves to the ground and rolled out the bed rolls provided to them. The ground was wet and lumpy and the gear gave very little protection from the ever increasing cold. It seeped through the bed
roll into their bodies causing them to shiver. And the cough, the never ending cough, continued.

  Devyn rolled and turned and rolled some more. He could not find a comfortable place to sleep nor ignore the sound of the dry and hacking cough. It was only mid day when the men decided to lay down and sleep, but they were both exhausted as were all the men in the broken down tent. They knew they would be on the move tomorrow and none knew when they would find sleep again. It was pure exhaustion that eventually forced Devyn to close his eyes and drift off into sleep.

  Devyn was younger then. His beard was not as long or as gray and patches of skin still showed through his bristles. He lay on a cot with torches around him and he was warm for the first time in a long time. He had been given the rank of Lieutenant in the ranks of Lord Malark’s army. He would have men that followed him and he would now receive more pay. But the greatest benefit of all was the bed and the warmth instead of the worn out roll that they called a bed that he had before. He still had it, it clung to his backpack in case of an emergency. Many nights he huddled with that bare piece of wool, his only protection against the endless cold. He found sleep easy that night on his cot which was off the frigid ground. He had spent so much time laying upon the ground, feeling the ice seep into his bones that he forgot what it was like to feel warm. Even fighting this far south in the lands that bordered the Quin and Bregidonnonian lands, the lands were still cold almost year round. The only difference between the south lands and the north lands is there was a short warm season in the south. A time of year where slow running water didn’t quickly become ice.