Within the Ice

by LaPolla, C. J.

  Devyn lay comfortably drifting off to sleep, his eyes lazily lulling shut. While his lot in life was still poor, his esteem in battle had given him privileges he once thought impossible. Devyn had grown up on a successful farm with his father and mother just west of the southern tip of the Isindril. He could barely remember the smells of the crops and the sounds of the animals on the farm. They were but a distant memory of another boy in another time. Vague images passed his mind as sleep took him in and out of the crops growing in the fields. He remembered his father would disappear for long stretches at a time as he would take a wagon of crops into the bigger towns to sell them. It was during one of his treks that the world changed.

  It started with the sound of hooves on the dirt road that crept past his old home. The shouts from the workers on the farm and the sound of one of their screams when they continued to argue. A seventeen year old Devyn remembered looking out from his small loft room in the home they lived to see Henri speared through the chest. That was the first man he saw killed violently and how he wished it was the last. Henri let out a scream of pain and blood poured from the wound in his chest. He saw the men scatter as the raid began and most were taken into nets before they could run more than twenty paces. Devyn hid in his room until he heard his mother’s screams. He remembers the look of terror in her eyes as the men noticed him. Hard, mailed hands grabbed him violently and pulled him from the house as three men dragged his mother in the opposite direction. He kicked and he fought but it was no use, these were large men and he was but a boy. The last image of his mother he saw was her being pulled into the darkness of the home.

  He never discovered her fate. And he probably never would. Just as quickly as he was pulled in Lord Malark’s service he was seeing his first action. The battles came hard and quick and without rest. He lived through his first ten encounters out of sheer terror. He struck down foe after foe that he had no reason to hate. Young Devyn had no idea he could hold so much hatred for men he did not know, and he slowly grew hardened to thought of killing men in battle.

  His prowess in battle quickly drew the attention of one of the great Thane’s in Malark’s army. Thane Alviss Throm viewed Devyn as a protege. He took him under his wing for years and trained him viciously. Devyn was trained with the sword and the ax and the spear. He learned the virtues of a thane, if one could call such barbaric ways virtues, and grew in ability and strength. It took many years but Devyn finally survived the ten challenges and returned with the head of a dire wolf and Alviss proclaimed him Thane! A title Devyn never hoped or thought obtainable for a farm boy from the south lands. While the title brought great honor to him, it brought him little joy. Even so many years later the memory of his mother being pulled into the darkness of the home he thought safe haunted him.

  And so Devyn stood tall, promoted in the ranks of the armies of Malark and a Thane of Isiir who had been tested in the trials. And to him the greatest benefit of all, was the cot on which he now laid. A content sigh left his lips as he suddenly heard the alarm blare. Again. And Again. And Again!

  He was unsure if he was still dreaming when he opened his eyes. Devyn rose from his cold and fitful slumber on the hard ground. He was no longer on his beloved cot nor in the southern lands. He was back in the camp just outside Northspire. The entrance to the tent was ink black, he knew he must have been asleep for many hours, and a war horn sounded with its deep bellowing call. Hrodny entered the tent screaming at the top of his lungs.

  “GET MOVING!” The men started to stir and quickly suit up. Thankfully most have kept their pack and equipment ready to go at a moments notice. Dorm and Devyn were no different as they helped one another pull their ill fitting armor over their shoulders and head. The warm furs were then attached to them and they knew it would be their only protection against the cold. Hrodny’s booming voice easily stood out among the loud crowd “GET MOVING! Rakgar is on the move and his men have already entered the glacier! We will not be beaten by these scum to our glory! Now get up and get moving!” Hrodny clapped his hands loudly as he walked out of the tent with an unsteady stream of men departing the tent behind him.

  Bedrolls were secured, mining gear was set snuggly on the backpack, and weapons were secure at the side. They sat for a moment making sure each other were set up properly before they made their way outside. Neither of them could see the glacier that had devastated the land in the black evening. To make matters worse, the night had brought on a strange eerie fog that hung over the town making everything seem ghostly and distorted.

  Devyn, Dorm and scores of other men stood out of the tent where they had just slept staring into the darkness wondering what unknown adventures they were about to begin.

  Chapter VII

  The men outside the barracks tent formed a rough line of four to five men in each row. It was not a straight line and any military commander would scoff at such an assemblage. The men within the lines had no desire to be where they were, they knew they had to endure this so that they could one day return to their homes and their former life The line was broken in many spots, men listed lazily to the left and right as they marched on into the field beyond the camp. The entire gathering was without order and form. If it were Devyn in command, he would be screaming for formations. If they encountered any resistance on their way into the ice, he was not sure this line would hold.

  Devyn eyed the landscape as they entered the long field between the camp and Northspire expecting to see hundreds of fissures throughout the ground that he saw open before and after he was washed away by the wave. He saw none. No great fissures and no bodies. He pondered for a moment on the haunting truth of the fate of those men who were sucked down into those fissures which then sealed shut. A shiver ran through him as he walked on the land that he knew now contained the grave of many dozens of souls.

  As if the knowledge that he walked upon a mass grave was not enough to disturb his inner calm, a thick fog had set up over the entire area increasing the eerie nature of the view. The fog did not feel natural, and when it touched your skin it would freeze. As quickly as it froze it melted again from the men’s body heat. Despite the frigid cold, every man looked as if they were perspiring, and now all the men began to shiver. The men trudged on with only their heavy footfalls and the constant campaign cough to mark their passing.

  The snow still fell heavy and wet and the fog still held on thick when the sullen and now sodden men marched into the town of Northspire. Devyn craned his neck trying to find a glimpse of the family he yearned so greatly to be with again. He hoped the noise of the men’s approach would have roused them from their slumber. And for the first time, Devyn was finally able to take in the devastation that had consumed Northspire. For the people of the town it was the end of the world. Many houses were mangled beyond repair and Devyn was sure they would find many more blue lipped bodies among the wreckage. The roads that he remembered were destroyed as the wave pushed mounds of dirt over the normal through ways. In the gloom of the night Devyn was sure that he saw finger tips grasping out from one of the large mounds of dirt as if it were reaching for its last vestiges of life. The great warehouses and docks that sustained the life of Northspire were torn asunder. The docks and warehouses had been the one stable element of Devyn’s life for so long that he was going to miss these places. They provided for him and his family and without them many of this town would have starved or moved on long ago. Now they were in ruin, despite his despair at the sight of his former employer, he marched on. He watched the boots in front of him, occasionally peering over to his friend Dorm at his side to see how he was faring stepping back into the site where he lost his family so soon. If Dorm was saddened he gave no indication of it.

  As he sulked through the town he felt a light hand reach out and touch his face. He had long given up hope that his family would find him, but there they were. Rana had reached out and touched his face as if she were seeing a ghost. He stepped aside willing to take whatever punishment the army would dish out to th
em and hugged them all tightly. Even in the darkness he could see their tear streaked faces and red puffy eyes. Dorm stepped aside with him so he would not lose his friend as the men marched on. Devyn continued to hold his wife and children tightly, feeling a newfound invigoration fill him.

  An obstacle. That is all this experience is. Another obstacle that Devyn would overcome like the thousands of other obstacles he had dealt with his entire life. Devyn could see in the corner of his eye that he had drawn attention to himself by breaking the line and a man carrying a whip approached him.

  Knowing his time was short he hugged the girls and Rana tightly and made them a promise. “Rana, I will return. I will return to you. Be strong and do what you have to to survive but I will be back!”

  The sharp crack of the whip caught him in the armored side. It wasn’t meant to harm him, just to get his attention and it was met with a loud command from the man. “Back in line!”

  The black bearded man whose name was Asvald scowled at Devyn. “Move out!”

  Devyn locked eyes with his wife and mouthed silently, I love you, which she returned. Devyn ignored the glares of the man who struck him and his eyes remained locked on Rana’s as Dorm and he fell back into the line. He stumbled a few times doing his best to keep them in his sight but before long they fell behind the remains of a large house that was once the blacksmith’s shop.

  The foul rotting breath of Asvald wafted in Devyn’s face as he got close to him and spoke “Break rank again and I’ll pay that little pretty a visit after I fillet your skin from your bones!”

  Devyn ignored him. An obstacle. That is all this was, he knew they were nothing but empty threats and Asvald would be in equal trouble if he broke rank to carry out the wicked deeds he threatened. A tear froze to Devyn’s face as he remembered the exhausted and terrified faces of his family but he knew he must be strong for them. And so they continued their march into the unknown.

  For the first time the monstrosity came into full view. The mist hung heavily around the glacier and became even thicker the closer they approached. It cast a long shadow over the town with large sheer cliff faces and many large cracks breaking the otherwise smooth, flat walls. The large openings in the sheer walls of the glacier had a comfortable slope about them, as if they could be walked into. Until now, Devyn was unsure of how they were even going to get onto the gigantic glacier.

  “Isn’t that a sight.” Dorm broke the silence staring at what lay before them.

  “It is. Stick together, I have a bad feeling about this.” Devyn stared his friend in the eyes to drive the point home that he was concerned.

  The glacier towered over the band of men as they stood before it, the shiny walls reflecting the light that managed to sneak through the clouds that covered the land in snow.

  “Attach your boot spikes!” Came the call from Hrodny in the lead of the war band. Dorm reached behind Devyn and pulled his boot spikes from his pack and Devyn returned the favor. The spikes were a metal frame that wrapped around their boots and had a series of spikes running along the bottom of the sole. Devyn stamped his foot on the ground to make sure they were secure. Satisfied, he tightened his weapon to his belt and felt ready to venture into the ice. It was impossible to see more than fifty feet above them into the glacier as the mist hung heavy in the sky. He took a quick second look as he could have sworn the mist was higher not long ago. It didn’t take him long to realize that the mist was slowly falling to the earth.

  The party seemed to be ignoring the fact that the mist was slowly getting closer and any minute they would be completely enveloped within. Once it appeared that the party was ready he heard the boisterous call from Hrodny. “Let’s move out!”

  The line began to march again at the sound of his mighty voice and each man marched in step with the man in front of him. They all eyed the monstrous sheet of ice that lay before them with nervous fascination. Devyn was far back in the line after stepping out to meet his wife and could see the men starting up the slope ahead of him. Each man pressed his foot hard into he ground making sure his footing was secure before taking another careful step. This process made the going very slow but before long the first of the line began to disappear into the thick, opaque, white fog which was slowly gliding to the ground.

  Man after man disappeared into the thick fog before Devyn, until it finally overtook Dorm and him. As soon as the fog touched his skin he felt the cold take over. A cold that, even living in the North, no man could understand. It was as if the sun had been plucked from the sky and even the weak warmth it provided so far north was gone.

  While there was still the slightest vision Devyn shouted to his friend. “Grab my arm, whatever happens, stay together!”

  Devyn thought he saw his friend nod in agreement and felt him grab hold of his elbow and that is when vision was gone. He could hear muffled shouts of men in front of him crying out to find the location of the group. Dorm and Devyn moved close to one another as to not lose each other like so many other men had above.

  The world was a dream-like state with men’s faces coming in and out of view. Shouting filled the air but all sound, even when it was close by, sounded very far away. The grade slightly increased as they strode further up the glacier path, as they could see neither in front nor behind them and the world had seemed to disappear. Only the ice beneath their feet, the ghostly cries of the men, and the neverending fog existed.

  Time had lost all meaning in this white ethereal land, they became so disoriented Devyn was unsure of how long they had struggled up the path. The only constant was the crunch of the ice below and the occasional face in the fog. It wasn’t long before the chaos began, it started with a man tumbling past. Devyn leapt aside and bowled Dorm to the ground trying to escape the man falling ever faster towards the bottom of the path. Through the fog Devyn could make out a red streak on the ground and knelt over to investigate. Blood streaked in a path down the hill, and Devyn knew it to be far too much blood for just an injury from the fall. The shouts above confirmed his suspicions as the battle erupted. He could see nothing but could clearly hear the broken combat ahead. The occasional clash of steel on steel and the cry of an injured man.

  “Faster Dorm. We need to get out of the fog.” Devyn yelled to his friend.

  “If it has an end!” He heard Dorm’s panicked voice respond. While Devyn knew his friend had undertaken this journey to meet his end and reunite with his family, dying in this ethereal mist, to an unknown foe was surely not the way anyone wished to fall.

  The men hastened their steps while still trying to maintain their balance on the ever increasing slope. As the cries of battle grew closer both men drew their weapons. Neither knew how they were going to decipher friend from foe being almost completely blinded. Given they were an unwilling participant in this battle, Devyn came to the conclusion as long as he was not hurting his friend at his side, everyone who approached was an enemy.

  The first attack was just a blade, a dull gray thing broke through the mist in their direction, they were not entirely sure that it had been intended for them. They moved away from the attack continuing their steep climb. The next attack was much more intentional. The man jumped out of the fog with ghostly wisps of fog curling around his form as he made a savage slash with an ax at their heads, both men backed easily away from the wild off-balance attack. The two men unlocked arms and moved into fighting stances with their blades held high. The man was in a battle fervor as he barely seemed to notice that he was outnumbered and seemed ready to attack any number of men in front of him. He wore thick white furs and a hardened leather suit of armor underneath, his snarl revealed many blackened and missing teeth. The men circled each other without any attacks taking place. Devyn slowly guided himself to the higher ground and when he held level ground with him the crazed man attacked. The attacks were wild, unbalanced and unskilled, Devyn easily disarmed the man. Dorm, using the skills that Devyn so long ago had taught him for just such an occasion, jumped at the opportunity and
plunged his sword deep into the back of the man. The crimson fluid steamed as it touched the hard ice below and the man cried out in pain, his frenzied eyes growing distant. Dorm unsympathetically kicked the man off his blade and tossed him down the steep path. The man tumbled away from them and disappeared into the endless mist.

  The fighting continued all around them as they continued their steady climb. Devyn counted himself lucky as they were not in the thick of the fighting and the mist allowed them to sneak by undetected. Devyn was not about to engage in fighting with zero visibility and no chance of knowing the difference between friend or foe. He and Dorm stuck close together and twice had to strike down foes that leapt like demons from the mist to try to end their life. Both times Devyn and Dorm dispatched them quickly and sent them to their tumbling death far below.