“The next morning, I approached the site. I could tell something was wrong, but I did not know what until I got there. The sentries had all been killed in the night. I never heard a thing, but it looked like they had been savaged by wild animals. Additionally, the laborers were gone vanished. Their tents were tattered rags, and the canvas they had placed over the site had been similarly ripped and torn.” Alaric had very specifically avoided mentioning Kahji, but now he could not if he wanted to give a full report, “Kahji says there are old stories of the Igni where some Igni suddenly go berserk. They would be engaged in some peaceful activity, and then would become like animals attacking everyone around them. He could not remember details, but he said the scene reminded him of those stories.”
Father Bayard’s face had turned ashen as he heard the tale. When Alaric stopped, he crossed himself and breathed an inaudible prayer. Then he said, “My lords, this is a symbol the Ancients used for Discord, though the Igni normally say ‘Chaos’. As far as we can determine, they considered Discord to be an entity, more than random chance. They believed it was an active agent of destruction and decay. I would have to translate the writing, and it would take some time. At a guess, this was some kind of ward or protection against Discord. That single scratch,” he pointed to the gouge, “would have made it cease functioning, just like a malformed rune on one of our own items would prevent it from working.”
While the priest had been talking, all the fight drained from the faces of Boores and Martin. Now, even their wounded pride could not prevent them from seeing that Alaric had been right; the Frost Fiends were not defeated, and something much bigger was going on.
For a long minute the four men simply stared at the image. Finally, the baron stated, “Alaric, I’ll need you to go back to the duke.”
CHAPTER 18
Alaric double checked the ties on the pack mule’s burden. Even with the small group he was taking with him, it would be a couple days back to the dig site, and then more than a week back to the duke. A cart was already hitched to two horses, but the load had to be light to allow for the addition of the large tablet.
Still lacking a definitive objective for the Frost Fiends, the baron had decided that the best way to get the duke to call in his vassals and hold them ready was to show him the tablet. His hope had been that the duke’s scholars would draw the same conclusions as Father Bayard and urge the duke into action. Alternately, it was possible that a direct reading of the tablet would prove their fears unjustified, and they would also be able to stand down their own forces.
Alaric had been placed in charge of the entire expedition. He was given a free hand to choose the men who went with him, and what supplies they would take. Alaric knew it was a calculated gamble on his father’s part. Alaric had already shown that the castle’s fate was more important to him than his own, so his father could be fairly certain he wouldn’t take anything to vital to its defense.
His father had not been disappointed. Alaric chose six soldiers from the elite squads, four laborers, and fairly basic equipment. The only departure from his modest choices were to take one of the fusil tempête to provide a little more power in case they did end up fighting more Frost Fiends. He hated to take the weapon, but he had to ensure the safety of his own mission as much as possible. That he did not take more was due to his desire not to deprive the castle of the valuable weapons.
It had taken the better part of the day to make the preparations. So it was that the gate slowly swung open as the first rays of dawn touched the castle walls. Alaric would have preferred to leave earlier, but it would have been foolhardy in the extreme to do so. Without better familiarity with the terrain, it was too likely that the driver of the cart or one of the other riders would have an accident, possibly laming a horse.
Alaric set as hard a pace as he dared, but with the cart and pack mules, they would be lucky to make twelve leagues a day. Even with a direct route to the dig site he expected the journey to take two days. From there it would be nearly ten days to the ducal palace. If he and Father Bayard were right, the castle would be attacked long before he could return to aid in its defense. The attack might even come before he reached the duke.
He might have been impatient, but he wasn’t stupid. So he set outriders to scout ahead and watch their flanks. He warned them what to look for if the Frost Fiends attacked. He told them about the sudden temperature drop, and that thrusting would be more effective than hacking and slashing. He set one of the soldiers on the cart with its driver and gave him the fusil tempête.
The first day passed without event. They stopped only when necessary to feed and water the horses, taking their own meals at those times. Alaric kept those stops as short as he reasonably could. He did not want to run the men or horses into the ground, but with every passing hour his sense of urgency grew. Finally he had to admit they could go no further and called for a night’s rest.
Once again he awoke before the sun and roused the men as well. By the time the sun rose, they had already broken both their fast and the camp. As the sky lightened, the cart again began rolling. On an impulse he could not explain, he had the pack mules hitched to the back of the cart, and added the now freed soldiers to the outriders.
They arrived at the dig site as the day waned into evening. Remembering the fate of the previous expedition, he elected to set up camp about a quarter mile from the site. He then ordered a double watch set. He had no intention of being slaughtered in his sleep.
As he slept that night, his dreams were fitful. Something, hungry and desperate, was trying to devour him and his men. He could not make out what it was, but he knew it was powerful beyond anything he had ever encountered. As it struggled against bonds he could not see, it promised him the world for its release. Part of him was drawn to it, tempted not only by the promises, but by its sheer presence. All through the night his soul warred against itself and the intruder in his dreams.
After a mere eternity, he woke. As he looked around, he saw that everyone else sleeping was also fitful. It was too much of a coincidence not to be related. Before he could rise and awaken the others, one of the laborers stood with unnatural grace. In the flickering light of the fire, his face looked unnatural, even inhuman. His eyes shone with an inner light.
He opened his mouth and released a primal scream and leapt at Alaric, crossing the thirty intervening yards in one great thrust of his legs. As he flew through the air he started transforming. His eyes did indeed glow with a light of their own. His mouth stretched and his teeth elongated into fangs. His hands curled into claws with razor-sharp talons.
“Ware the camp!” he shouted as he rolled away from the initial attack. By the campfire’s light, he could see another of the laborers rising, also undergoing a hideous transformation.
Before he could see if the soldiers were responding, the demon snarled in rage and leapt again. Again he rolled to the side. Again it jumped. Again he was forced to dodge. He knew he could not keep this up forever. Every time the monster jumped, it came closer to him. Eventually he would not be able to get out of the way.
He stole a glance at his blankets and saw his sword. This time when the monster threw itself at him, he rolled toward his bedding. Instead of getting back to his feet immediately, he continued his roll, right over his sword. In an instant he was back on his feet, sword in hand.
As he rose, he saw the former laborer flying at him. With no time to duck out of the way, he braced himself the best he could, and thrust with all his might. He felt the sword bite into the demon’s chest. He heard it howl in rage and pain.
To his horror, it looked down at the sword, grasped it one taloned hand, and pulled itself closer to him. With a shout, he released the sword and kicked the beast away from him. He felt fire in his leg as the thing finally connected, swiping at him as he used it for leverage to escape.
Landing on his good leg, he kept the weight off his wounded leg until he could assess the damage. With no time for that, he again leapt aside
as the beast jumped. This time it was met mid-air with a tongue of white-hot flame. Kahji’s snarling roar was added the sound of the fight. The monster tried to scream, but the fire was so hot it stole the air from the thing’s lungs.
As it flinched back from the fire, Kahji’s great club swung into action. With casual power, Kahji blasted the side of demon, sending it flying to the side. It struck the ground and stayed there for a moment before trying to rise, a task it found impossible. The massive Igni had shattered its hip and ribs. Apparently it did not feel the pain, but its legs simply would not respond.
Kahji stalked in and swung again. The beast screamed one final scream as the massive club crushed into its skull. Bone and ichor flew. The monster fell, a twitching corpse.
Freed of his immediate opponent, Alaric assessed his own wound and found it fairly minor. He then surveyed the fight. Only two of the laborers had turned: the one Kahji had just killed, and the beast now attacking the soldiers who had been on watch. This one had sharp spines running down its arms, legs, and back, and a long tail whipping in the night. It gleamed in the firelight as though it was scaled, and its snarl was a rasping hiss. Only Alaric’s hasty warning had prevented the thing from killing one or more of the men outright. Even now they were hard pressed against it.
Alaric quickly retrieved his sword. He and Kahji stalked in silently from behind. As he thrust at its back, Kahji swung at its head. Somehow the beast knew the blows were coming. Lithe as a snake, it leapt out of the way. It fairly flew through the air, and twisted as it flew. As it landed, its tail lashed again.
Before they could advance again, it darted to one side. This put Alaric between it and Kahji, and prevented them from flanking it. Before either could react, it rushed at the soldiers again. Alaric dove to intercept it, blocking its movement with his body. He screamed in pain as he felt the spines rip into his chest and arm.
Forcing his body to respond, he reached up to the demon’s face. Despite its toothlessness, he was quite certain that maw could cause him considerable damage. Nevertheless, he reached up past the beast’s muzzle, and plunged his thumb into its eye.
It screamed in rage and pain. As it thrashed, Alaric felt his flesh continue to rip and tear. Just before he passed out, he heard the comforting sound of Kahji’s snarling roar. With the detachment that comes from blood loss, he saw the thing’s head explode as a great club slammed into it.
Then the pain and blood loss overwhelmed him. His vision swam and darkened as unconsciousness claimed him.
CHAPTER 19
“He’s coming around,” Alaric heard a voice say. His arm and chest felt as though they’d been burned. The voice sounded like it was coming from a long distance, though he knew whoever had said it had to be right beside him.
As he opened his eyes, the world swam into focus. Kneeling beside him was one of the soldiers who had been on watch. The relief on his face was obvious as he gestured to someone outside of Alaric’s field of vision. When he tried to turn his head, he realized that even such an easy motion was causing his muscles to shake as though he’d been abed for a week. He tried to rise and found himself unable.
The soldier restrained him with a light hand on his shoulder. “Have care, my lord; your wounds were most grievous. It seems the spines missed anything vital, but it was a close thing.”
Now that his senses were working better, he realized he had been laid in the back of the cart. It was moving with the uneven, arrhythmic swaying indicative of moving over a rough road, or no road at all. Taking in his surroundings, he found that he was lying in blankets on top of something rough and hard. Feeling around with his fingers, he discovered he had been placed on top of the tablet.
“How long was I unconscious?”
“Most of the day, my lord. After the sun came up, the remaining laborers dug up the tablet and lifted it into the cart while we kept watch and Lord Kahji dressed your wounds.”
“How long have we been travelling?”
“Not long, my lord, but no one wanted to stay another night in that evil place. You should rest. You’re still weak from your wounds.”
Unable to resist the logic or, more importantly, the leaden feeling in his eyelids, Alaric once more closed his eyes. Almost immediately he fell asleep. When he woke, he found himself bundled in blankets, near enough to a fire to keep warm, and far enough away that he would not roll into it on accident. Just the rest had done wonders for him, and he felt able to rise.
Rolling onto his hands and knees, he forced himself upright. The effort was more than he expected; it left him shaking and weak. Nevertheless, he forced himself to remain upright and survey the area.
“You should still be sleeping, brave one,” Kahji’s gentle rumbling was almost right in his ear. If he hadn’t been so weak, Alaric thought he might have jumped.
“I think I need food more than rest, just now. Is there any still warm?”
“No, it’s well past midnight. But there is some food if you don’t mind it cold.”
“Cold is better than none.”
While Kahji saw to getting him something to eat and something to drink, Alaric looked around. The area the men had chosen was well defended. The campsite itself was on a low mound, at the bottom of the mound were several large rocks. He couldn’t tell in the darkness, but he guessed they were large enough and rounded enough that climbing them would be difficult. That would force any aggressor into one of several narrow channels, and then force them to attack uphill, however low that might be.
Overhead the stars twinkled. Alaric had not been a very good student of astronomy, but he could pick out some of the major constellations. The moon had passed its own zenith, but still shed a pale light on the scene. Alaric could pick out the forms of the two sentries sitting in the cart, using its height to give them an even better field of view.
Kahji returned with a small chunk of a ham, bread, a little cheese, and water. Alaric tore into the simple road fare as though he hadn’t eaten in a week. As he ate, he felt much of his strength returning. For the first time he realized both how severe his wounds had been, and how much they had already healed.
“I didn’t know you were a firesmith,” he remarked to the massive Igni.
“I have received much of their training, but I am a warrior by birth, temperament, and training. I do not have the patience for most of what is required of a firesmith.”
“You healed me, though. I thought that required a great deal of effort.”
“It does. I’ve been told I have power. I just don’t have the temperament.”
“Well, you have my thanks,” Alaric said aloud. Mentally he added, Thank the Lord Almighty so few Igni have the temperament to be firesmiths. We’d have been overrun a hundred years ago.
After he ate, Alaric took the time to visit briefly with the guards and then lay down again to rest. Even though he’d been unconscious for most of twenty-four hours, he realized how weak he still was. If he was going to be of any use to the men, he had to rest and rebuild his strength.
He was still moving slowly in the morning, though more surely. While he ate, he surveyed the survivors of the attack. Now that he could take time to examine them, he realized the three guards who had been on duty that night had wounds, though those wounds appeared minor. He also saw something in their eyes. They were haunted by what they had seen. Truth be told, so was he. More than once as he slept he had relived the horror of the attack. His sleeping mind had amplified the tearing of flesh as the two doomed men had undergone their transformations. His mind replayed the scene in vivid, even gruesome, detail.
A question had been nagging him, and he decided it was best to get it out into the air. Pausing briefly to collect his thoughts and frame his words, he called for attention. “You all know of the attack two nights ago. You all know what happened, I’m sure. I, myself, had been troubled by dreams. That is what eventually woke me. I do not know if any of you had similar dreams, but I must know- once I called ware to the camp, and the fightin
g began, why did none of you who were sleeping awaken?”
The men who had remained asleep looked sheepish, even guilty. After a time, one of the soldiers spoke, “Well, my lord, there were dreams, as you said. I can’t speak for the others, but mine held me captive. I wrestled with my dream until I awoke in the morning. By then the fight was over, and my lord Kahji had already tended the worst of your wounds. I cannot say why the fight did not wake me, other than that I was oblivious to everything except that dream.”
“Tell me of your dream.”
“I don’t remember it all that well, my lord. It seemed to me there was some voice in the darkness. It whispered to me and offered me… I cannot even recall now. At the time I was sorely tempted. I wrestled with the temptation as much as with the dream itself.”
Seeing the others, including the laborers nodding, Alaric asked, “You all had similar dreams?”
Hearing their murmurs of confirmation, he continued, “That describes my dream very well. I wonder if the two who were changed had the same dream. But why would they have been turned into monsters while the rest of us were left alone?”
After a heavy silence, one of the laborers said, “Beggin’ yer honor, but it would ha’ been easy far me t’ give into that voice. I’m still not sure why I din’t, really. It could be tha’ they did give into it.”
“You think this voice actually had power?”
“Yes, yer honor. Maybe it were the place. I did na’ have a similar dream this night. But it could be tha’ it really had power.”
“Well, the Lord knows stranger things have happened in this world. But why did you decide to continue and dig up the tablet?”
Fire and Frost (Seven Realms Book 1) Page 12
