Fire and Frost (Seven Realms Book 1)

by Goodner, Allen

  “I wish I knew that as well. As we travelled here he seemed withdrawn. Had he been human I would have called him moody. My own wounds and anxiety prevented me from realizing the strength of his mood. I am hoping that I can ask him in the morning.”

  “Very well,” the duke said as he changed subjects, “I agree with you that the tablet is the most likely cause of the night’s events. But what do we do with it? I can’t afford for more of my people to fall prey to it night after night.”

  “I think you may be safe there, for the time being. As I said, it is my suspicion that everyone in the castle was affected. I think the same was true when we slept near it that first night. I believe that it can only try, if an object can be said to ‘try’ at anything, to tempt any given group of people once. It tempted my men and me that first night, but then we did not have similar dreams on the entire journey here. I suspect the events of tonight will not be repeated until a significant number of new people are sleeping here. At any rate, I believe the only way we’ll get answers is for your scholars to finish translating the writing. Once we know more fully what it is and what it represents we may have better answers.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” the duke sighed. Suddenly he seemed years older. “I recommend you return to your bed. The sun will be up soon enough; then we can go ask the scholars what they have found.”

  Dismissed, Alaric left the small room and started down the stairs. Lost in thought, he didn’t realize that he’d completely missed his room until he was down in the great hall itself. Finding himself among the lesser knights and higher commoners, he decided this was where he needed to be. Slowly he filtered through the survivors of the night’s attack. He offered what comfort he could and checked on his men. Luckily none of them had suffered wounds more serious than his own.

  He worked through the rest of the night. For some he was an angel of mercy. For others he was simply a firm presence of authority; a confirmation that all would be well. For more than a few he was a compassionate ear and a shoulder on which to weep. When the sun rose, he was exhausted, but he knew he’d done the right thing.

  As the castle servants began the preparations for serving breakfast, Alaric moved out of the great hall, searching for Kahji. Thinking back to both attacks, something seemed strange about Kahji’s reactions. He needed to know what had caused such rage in his friend.

  A brief search found Kahji in the kitchen. His own love of cooking plus the warmer environment made it the most comfortable place in the castle for the massive Igni. Alaric had to stifle a chuckle as he saw the great War Leader stooped to avoid hitting his head and working very delicately with tools designed with neither his size nor the articulation of his hands in mind.

  “There you are, my friend,” Alaric said by way of greeting, “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to find you here.”

  Kahji turned and showed one his increasingly rare smiles, “Yes, I have to admit it is relaxing to my mind to be here. If not to my body,” he added as he looked at the walls which cramped him so.

  “I’m glad to see your mind more at ease, then. I hate to disturb you, but would you walk with me?”

  They mounted the nearest set of stairs to the outer wall. Alaric figured this would be remote enough to allow them to talk freely. They walked in silence for a few moments, both of them simply taking in the morning.

  Finally Alaric broke the silence, “Kahji, what is it about these creatures? I’ve seen you in battle before, and you’ve never been as close to losing control as you were last night, or before that at the dig site. I have to admit, it has me worried.”

  Kahji did not respond for a long moment. Alaric allowed him time to collect his thoughts; he owed the great Igni his trust. Finally, Kahji responded, “I do not know, myself. There is something so fundamentally wrong about them that I simply want to destroy them. That answer rings hollow even as I say it, though.”

  After another protracted silence, he continued, “You spoke of dreams when you questioned your men. We Igni do not dream, not as you know it. Yet something has been keeping me from resting ever since that first night. It is like a dead tooth in my mind. There is something wrong, and I cannot figure out what it is. Then, when these things have attacked, it has almost been like my first time in real battle: the rage, the battle-lust, and the fear all welling up inside me until I feel like I am about to burst. Only my own discipline has prevented me from unleashing waves of heat which would have reduced any of you to ash in an instant.”

  “And it is this wrongness that is causing your withdrawal, your moodiness?”

  “Moodiness?” Kahji almost chuckled, “You speak as though I am one of your own adolescents. Igni do not get ‘moody.’ But yes, I believe you are correct. How ‘moody’ would you be if you could not rest for more than ten days?”

  “I don’t believe ‘moody’ would describe me either, my friend.” Alaric did chuckle lightly, “I understand your point. Then let us eat, and see what we can find out about our mysterious artifact. Perhaps it contains the answer.”

  After a quick breakfast, Alaric, Kahji, and the duke returned to the cart where the tablet still rested. They were unsurprised to find the scholars already there, still going over the massive artifact. At some point since he had last checked their progress, the scholars had requested a larger desk, more paper, and a variety of instruments. Alaric recognized a drafting compass, but most of the others were unknown to him.

  “What more have you learned?” the duke asked as they approached the scene.

  “Your Grace,” the one currently at the desk began, “I’m afraid we haven’t learned much more for certain. It seems, though, that this was not a ward, but rather an anchor from some other greater ward. We can’t be certain, but this text seems to speak of Discord as a being. We know the Ancients did that, but this seems to be more specific even than that. We had believed previously that they looked at Discord as an explanation for Evil. They spoke of it as a person, but only insofar as that would explain what they saw around them. This seems to be something else, more like our own understanding of the Devil. It seems to be some specific being that they directly encountered. We don’t know if this is simply recorded fable, or fact, or what.”

  “Did you hear what happened in the night?”

  “Yes, my lord. It is all so shocking. You believe the tablet is involved?”

  “We do.”

  “I’m sorry, my lord, but I don’t see how. Nothing we’ve been able to translate would explain how it could cause the events of last night. But we still have much to translate. It is a slow process, I’m afraid.”

  “If the tablet is somehow involved, or even responsible, for what happened last night, what is your recommendation?”

  “I do not know, my lord.”

  Alaric spoke up, “My lord, it seems we only have two options: destroy it or return it to where we found it.”

  “I do not disagree, but I am loath to pursue either of those options. We don’t know enough about it to destroy it, and returning it may just put it in the hands of these Frost Fiends, if it is their goal.”

  “My lord, if I may,” the scholar spoke up. “If it is magic, then there must be some way to counteract it or neutralize it. You have magicians here, some of us are even moderately accomplished. We could ward it at night. That should lessen, if not defeat the effect. That is, if the tablet is truly the source.”

  “Could you neutralize it permanently?”

  “No, Your Grace. We would have to know much more about it. I do not suppose there is any word about Monsignor Manitoc? I am certain he could tell you everything you want to know about this tablet in a matter of hours.”

  “No, no word yet. Why are you so certain he could decipher it so quickly?”

  “My lord, he found one much like this on the Border with Molari. That is what he came to share with us. Many of the specifics are different, but this central design is very similar to the design on the tablet he found. I’m certain he could discern the di
fferences, and tell you what they mean, in very short order.”

  Something in his mind was screaming at Alaric now. He was missing something and he knew it. He decided to feel his way toward it verbally.

  “The Monsignor found a tablet like this? And from my understanding, that would have been right around the time the Frost Fiend raids started along the Infierno Border. He hasn’t been seen since he left here. But that doesn’t make sense. How many men did he have with him when he left here?”

  “Only those travelling with him, my lord. A valet and several guards.”

  “There is no way such a small retinue could hope to accomplish anything when investigating an Ancient site. He above all would have known that. So either he was continuing on his education tour or he was planning to pick up extra men. In either case, he would have gone to my father’s castle. In the first case, it would be the next logical stop to share his discovery. In the second, it would be the best place to pick up laborers and additional guards.”

  With that, it became clear to him. The Monsignor’s disappearance must somehow be tied to the tablet and the Frost Fiends. His discovery of a similar tablet right around the time the attacks started could be a coincidence. That was made less likely when coupled with his disappearance into the Borderland barony. Something was very wrong, and Alaric believed that finding out what that was would be the key to all the rest.

  He drew a deep breath and turned to the duke. “My lord, I believe my men and I must take our leave. It seems we have a Royal Scholar to find.”

  CHAPTER 22

  The next days flew by like the scenery. Alaric pushed both the men and horses as far as he dared. So much time had been wasted. He’d known almost from the beginning that the answers would be found with Monsignor Manitoc. With every mile he cursed himself for not pushing harder on the issue, for settling for the tablet instead of continuing his search for the Monsignor.

  If that weren’t enough, Alaric and Kahji were both certain Castle Dell would be under attack again. They could only hope that the outer wall had been sufficiently repaired and that the baron was more prepared for another attack. If the wall had not been prepared, or if the baron froze again, the castle and all of its inhabitants would be lost. That the surrounding farms and villages would be razed was not even a question.

  It was not entirely lost on Alaric that Kahji seemed much more relaxed once they had moved some distance from the tablet. He quickly reintegrated with the group, and was much more personable. Alaric was glad to see it, but his relief took a far second place to his concern for his family and those under their protection.

  The ride back to the castle was tense. Each member of the party knew that every minute they were away meant more danger for the castle. Every league they put behind them brought them closer to those they cared about. Every hoof beat, every step, took on yet greater urgency.

  After several days, Alaric pulled up early in the evening. He knew the men would be confused, so he answered them before they could even ask. “If we keep going at this pace we’ll reach the castle just as night falls. In the best case we still wouldn’t be able to make it into our own beds. In the worst case we’ll encounter an army of Frost Fiends just as the sun sets. I have no desire to face them in such circumstances.

  “Rest. Let your horses rest. Tomorrow will either see us safe at the castle or find we will need every ounce of energy to help save those we love.”

  Despite his own advice, however, Alaric slept lightly and fitfully that night. Every noise seemed the tramping of an army. Every breeze seemed to bring the scent of fire.

  He rose well before sunrise and began his preparations. He and his men had carried armor with them, in case they needed it and had time to use it. Now he donned his armor. The task was made more difficult with no one to assist, but he was used to doing so by now. Then he checked the rest of his equipment.

  As the men rose, he addressed them, “Eat quickly. Leave anything unnecessary here. If all is well, we can send someone back for what we leave. If all is not well, we do not need the additional encumbrance.”

  Suiting action to his words, he ate a quick breakfast, checked his equipment once more, and then saddled his horse. He looked at the men around him and took pride and comfort in their expressions. Every one of them was an elite soldier. Every one of them was ready for whatever the day would bring.

  Turning his horse toward the castle, he nudged its flanks and pushed it quickly into a canter. He wanted to cover the distance quickly enough to be of help if there was a battle, but not so quickly that his mounts would be useless. With this in mind he kept to his practice of varying the pace, and walking the horses as much as was practical.

  None of them noticed the lowering temperature at first. This was not the sudden burst of cold air that accompanied the ambushes. The temperature seemed to drop slowly. Kahji was first to notice. His higher natural temperature made his breath mist on the air long before the horses or men.

  “They are here,” he breathed. “Either they are very close, or there are a great number of them. In either case, they have been here for some time.”

  “Either? Could it be both?” Alaric asked.

  “I do not believe so. If there were a great number of them and they were close, the temperature would be lower yet.”

  “So if it starts getting warmer as we ride on, there weren’t very many of them, and they were close. If it continues to get colder, then we can be fairly certain the army has returned.”

  “Exactly.”

  Their ride became more cautious. Alaric suspected that a close but small group would have attacked by now, but he had given up making assumptions where the Frost Fiends were concerned. He did not have time to investigate the area, however, so he ordered the drag rider to keep a sharp eye out, and continued on the way.

  Sure enough, the temperature continued to drop. They were all puffing clouds of fog now. Alaric ordered a brief stop so they could wrap themselves in cloaks to ward off the chill. The cold was so intense, he had them all ready their weapons; he did not want to chance someone’s sword binding in its scabbard because of the frost.

  That done, they rode harder. Now that it was confirmed the Frost Fiends had returned in force, Alaric wanted, even needed, to lend whatever aid he could. They all had visions of that army. They could imagine the great flood of monsters scurrying around and past each other on their quest to reduce the castle.

  Soon enough, they did not need their imagination. The army looked different from behind. They could still see the great beasts and their siege engines. They could see some of the riders on their porcine beasts. From the ramparts they had been able to pick out individuals; from this vantage that was impossible. The monsters simply made up one seething mass.

  As soon as they could see the army, Alaric called a halt. “If we just ride in, we’ll be overwhelmed before we achieve anything.”

  He took some time to study the situation. It did not take long. The great siege engines had stopped. It looked like they were getting ready to loose projectiles at the castle. From this distance and angle, he could not estimate where those great exploding balls of ice would land, whether against the wall or inside it. Just as before there were ten of the massive engines. Alaric was shocked by the violence of the motion of their throwing arms when they released in ragged sequence. In the previous battle he had been looking for other things, now he noticed that the engines jumped slightly. Even now their crews were moving them back into position.

  The explosion of the icy boulders seemed distant as Alaric realized the castle’s only hope. “Men, we’re taking those engines and killing their crews.”

  He quickly drew out his plan. It seemed that each engine had a crew of four. There were guards as well, but they were further forward. If they worked quickly enough, the soldiers could end, or at least greatly reduce, the threat those devastating weapons posed before the guards even knew what was happening. He and Kahji would attack one engine, while the rest of the
soldiers attacked the next. They would proceed down the line as fast as possible.

  “Remember, thrusts, not cuts or slashes. Lwellyn, take the fusil tempête. We’ll need every advantage we can get.”

  No more words were needed. They would succeed or they would die. They may well succeed but die anyway. They could not even shout their defiance lest they give up their element of surprise.

  As one, their horses leaped into a run. Kahji kept pace with them, and the two groups split up. The soldiers charged the outermost engine. Alaric had decided he and Kahji had a better chance to hold their own if the crew of the next adjacent engine were to aid their companions. They attacked the second engine in.

  Swift and brutal they charged into the crew of the giant catapult. Before they could react, Alaric had put one down with a shot to its neck, and Kahji had accounted for two more. Already the massive War Leader was wreathed in flame. The fourth Frost Fiend roared its defiance and charged at Alaric. Deftly, he stepped his horse to the side. Just as quickly, he reared the horse on its hind legs, turned it, and brought it back down. Iron-shod hooves smashed into the fiend’s head, shattering it. The horse flinched as shards of ice pelted it, but Alaric had considered that as well. The horses were outfitted as light cavalry, but he had been careful to provide them at least minimal armor for just such a purpose.

  Alaric spared a split second to check on his men. They, too, had three of the fiends down. Now all six of them were working on the fourth; they had the situation well in hand. Satisfied, he turned his horse again and charged at the next crew. Once more he and Kahji cut through them like a hot knife through butter. Then the soldiers were spilling past them to the fourth engine, and the two friends leap-frogged past them to the fifth. The sixth and seventh engines fell just as quickly.

  It could not last. Even with surprise on their side, they were simply too outnumbered. As the men charged at the eighth engine, the Frost Fiends were ready for them. Five men plowed into the first two fiends. Before Lwellyn could fire the storm gun, the other two monsters had already fallen on the soldiers from above; they had taken positions on top of the great catapult.