Frost: An Otherworld Tale (The Otherworld Tales Book 1)

by Chelsea Clemmons Moye

  Sam smiled and squeezed my hand in spite of my sarcasm. "You’ll do just fine, Lauren. I have faith in you."

  I frowned at him. "Why? Why would you have faith in me? You don’t even know me."

  "I know enough to trust you." He shrugged, his tone somewhat cryptic.

  I grunted and shook my head. "You’re not going to explain yourself, are you?"

  Sam waved his hands at me in the same way as Granny Betty did when the occasional free range chicken wandered into her yard and she had to shoo it. "No. Now run along and tell our fearless leader about your glorious stroke of genius."

  I rolled my eyes again. "I wouldn’t exactly call it that."

  Sam shot me a pointed look. "Shoo. Go. I need to meditate and create a spell that will revive the device before we can proceed with your plans. Off you go."

  "Arrogance must run in the family," I muttered under my breath as I started the long trek from the tower back to the fortress, still marveling at the dwarves’ craftsmanship and guile.

  They had managed to carve out an outer wall that simply appeared to be a craggy, impossibly tall sheer cliff when the inside was a well-maintained battlement. It concealed the fortress that was carved into the side of the mountain so well that I wondered how the humans had ever succeeded in finding Tiernan in the first place. On the outside, it was just like any other mountain. As I crossed the grassy space between the wall and the fortress, I studied the aqueducts and irrigation channels that I had failed to notice on first entering Tiernan. It was a feat of engineering beyond belief.

  I was winded by the time I made it back to Rolf’s office. I tried to get my breath under control before I knocked on Rolf’s door. Jeez. I really was a lot more out of shape than I thought. I had a feeling that the training I was about to endure was going to be miserable. My breath was quieter but still ragged when Kieran opened the door. He looked happier than I’d ever seen him before. "Come in, come in! Rolf and I are excited to hear what you’re planning."

  I felt a blush burn my cheeks, and I stared at the floor as I walked in. "It’s not so much a plan yet as an idea...a crazy idea."

  Kieran shrugged and grinned. "Everything that has to do with you is crazy."

  My head snapped up and I glared at him. "Gee, thanks."

  His warm brown eyes sparkled as he chuckled. "Come on, you know I’m right. Arriving in our world through a lightning strike, having a highly intelligent and protective dog somehow find you in the middle of the Black Forest, these ’messengers’ you’ve told us about...all of those things are completely mad."

  I found myself nodding. "I guess you’re right, but it’s about to get crazier."

  "I’m not sure how that’s possible." Kieran shook his head and crossed his arms.

  "Well, I have a certain device that ended up traveling with me to this world. It holds a lot of music, some of which I’m sure would unnerve people who aren’t familiar with it. I have Sam working on spells to power the device, to allow me to choose music by my mood, and we are trying to find a way to amplify the sound and blast it from the walls of the fortress, should Sigrid and her minions get close."

  Kieran looked puzzled, but Rolf nodded and cleared his throat. "I think I understand. How loud and how startling do you think this...music will be?"

  "If Sam can create the spell the way I described it to him, it’ll be loud enough to shake the ground, stun them, and make it hard for them to hear. As for how startling the music is, when Sam brings me my iPod, I’ll come see you and let you have a listen to it."

  "Fair enough. It’s not exactly what I expected, but it’s a start, I suppose."

  I ran my hands through my hair. "It’s the best I could come up with on such short notice, but I’ll keep thinking."

  Rolf and Kieran responded in unison. "Good. Thank you."

  I shrugged and smiled. "You’re welcome."

  Rolf stood and walked me to the door. "Captain Burns is waiting for you in the armory."

  "Oh, goody," I groaned.

  Kieran clapped me on the shoulder. "I’m sure you’ll do fine."

  I rolled my eyes. "Your faith in me is flattering, but misplaced. I'm sure you're wrong."

  He shrugged. "We’ll see."

  "That’s what I’m afraid of," I muttered as I slunk out of the door. Gabriel was waiting for me in the hall with a reproachful expression on his face because I’d let him continue sleeping after I woke up.

  I shot him a sheepish look. "Sorry, buddy. I thought you could use the sleep."

  Gabriel snorted and shook his head, his curly blond ears flopping all over the place. "It won’t happen again. Who let you out of our room, anyway?"

  Kieran, who was stepping out of Rolf's office behind me, spoke up. "It was me. I figured he probably needed to relieve himself."

  I pivoted and gave him a quick, grateful hug. "Thanks. I really appreciate you looking out for him like that."

  By the time I found my way to the armory to meet Captain Burns, I wanted to throw up from nerves. I knew I was going to make a fool of myself, and I was afraid everyone in Tiernan would finally realize that they were putting their faith in the wrong person.

  Captain Burns spotted me and nodded. "Ready to get to work?"

  "Probably not, but let’s get this over with anyway."

  I bit down hard on my lip as he pushed open the heavy iron door of the squat stone building, knowing that I was about to be mortified in every possible sense of the word. I could practically smell my impending humiliation on the cool, dry, musky air drifting out of the armory.

  I heard the now-familiar noise of a dagger striking flint and light flared within. Captain Burns stuck his head out of the doorway and waved me in with his free hand. As I stepped inside, he moved further into the solid stone antechamber, lighting torches in their brackets as he went. I followed, studying the way the light reflected off the gleaming bronze and steel of the weapons. Some were inlaid with precious metals and gemstones.

  I studied them with my hands behind my back, afraid I’d knock something over if I relaxed. I felt like I was in a museum, and it would be a terrible idea to touch anything on display. I nodded toward a rapier with a golden hilt and hand guard, both inset with pearls. "Fancy."

  Burns chuckled and nodded. "Indeed. The dwarves were quite fond of shiny things. Now, what do you know about weapons?"

  "Probably not as much as I should, but more than you’d think. I once dated a guy who was really into collecting weapons. I also did a history project on siege weapons once." I wrinkled my nose as I thought about what a waste of time that relationship had been, and how unfair it was to us both that I was constantly disappointed by him because he wasn't Noah. I shook off that fruitless train of thought as I started to tick off what I did know on my fingers while recounting it all to Captain Burns. "I know the differences between a rapier, saber, short sword, long sword, bastard sword, and a claymore. I know the differences between crossbows, short bows, long bows, recurved composite bows, and compound bows. I know the differences between clubs, maces, and morningstars. I know about ballistae, catapults, and trebuchets. I know about using oil and flame against one’s enemies. Plus, I know a little bit about explosives."

  Burns had been nodding along with me as I spoke, and his expression told me that he was surprised by everything I'd rattled off. "Right, then. You're already better off than I expected you to be."

  I held up a hand and shook my head. "I understand them all from a purely academic point of view, though. I’ve never put any of them to practical use. My ex tried to teach me sword techniques via sparring with bamboo swords. That didn’t really work out all that well. Every time he started coming toward me, I just ended up throwing the sword at him and running like hell. He stopped trying to teach me anything about sword fighting after about the third time I threw it and hit him in his...uh...manhood."

  Burns threw his head back and laughed. There was nothing malicious about it. It was genuine mirth, and it changed his entire demeanor. He ended
up bent over double, gasping for breath. "That is, perhaps, the most delightful thing I’ve ever heard. It certainly gives us a starting point to work from. Perhaps we can harness that instinct to throw things at your enemies. I’ll see about throwing knives, and perhaps a pair of throwing axes. However, before we see to your weapons, we’ll have to you into some armor."

  "Okay. Let’s do it." I swallowed convulsively and tried to hide my nervousness.

  "Follow me." Burns strode ahead, lighting torches as we went, and I realized that the floor had a slight slope to it.

  "Another cave?" I asked, feeling just a little claustrophobic.

  "Indeed. The dwarves were fond of those, too." He continued down the carved-out hall and I followed.

  The deeper we went, the taller and wider the armory became, until I realized the cut stone had joined with a natural cavern. Every stalagmite had been carved so that it held glittering weapons that captured the eye with their overwhelming beauty.

  “Man, you were right about the dwarves liking shiny things. These weapons are exquisite. If they are as functional as they are beautiful, Sigrid’s forces could have a big problem on their hands.”

  Captain Burns turned and smiled at me. “I like the way you think, girl.”

  He dipped his torch into a trough that instantly flared up. Flames rushed across its surface, shedding light throughout the cavern. I grinned. “I knew the dwarves were brilliant. They, of course, recognized the value of oil. For these troughs of fire to really work on a long-term basis, they must have drilled down and hit a natural well of oil that feeds this fountain of flames.”

  Burns nodded and smiled a broad, genuine smile. “You know, when you first arrived here, I had very little respect for you. That was a mistake.”

  I returned his smile and studied the room carefully. “It must have taken an event of immense magnitude to make the dwarves leave a cache of weapons like this behind.”

  “Most people just accept that the dwarves simply disappeared, sailed off the edge of the world and all died in one fell swoop. I’m inclined to disagree. I think they left with a purpose. I don’t think the world even has an edge.”

  “Oh, thank God, finally another person that has some common sense! They must have found some other land mass and chosen to live there. Otherwise, they would have come back here. They would have come back to these glorious weapons. They wouldn’t have left a treasure like this behind if they hadn’t found something more suited to their needs elsewhere. Now, let’s see. There must be enough weapons in this cache to arm every single man, woman, and child in this fortress. What about armor?”

  Burns clapped me on the shoulder and gave it a proud squeeze. “You’re a very smart girl, indeed. Unfortunately, the cache of armor is much more depleted than the stores of weapons. There’s another problem with it, too. All the armor we’ve found seems to have been crafted especially for dwarven women.”

  “Well, then, we’ll need to see that all the women in this fortress receive armor. They’ll need it if Sigrid’s forces somehow manage to breach the walls.”

  “Agreed, but what about armor for the men? The mines are full of precious metal, but we only have two blacksmiths. There’s no way the two of them can produce enough armor for all the men and children in that amount of time.”

  “Lucky for you, I know a special trick courtesy of Alexander the Great. Production time on Linothorax is much faster than on metal armor. I can teach the people of this fortress how to produce it, and with a force that big, we can easily produce enough armor for everyone in time. The smiths would need only to make metal helmets for everyone, and even those could be lined with Linothorax.”

  Burns crossed his arms and studied me with a whole new level of respect. “What, exactly, is this Linothorax?”

  “To make linothorax for this many people, you’ll need a LOT of linen and a LOT of glue. You lay out the linen to make a breastplate, although I have ideas on how to tailor the Linothorax to each person to make it easier for them to move, and you cover that layer in glue. Then, you lay another layer of linen on top of that one and press it together. You repeat this process until the linothorax is thick enough to protect your troops from any serious arrow wounds.”

  “Linothorax can stop arrows?” Burns stared at me in disbelief.

  “Well enough that any arrow that strikes it will only cause minor damage to your troops. A few sticks here and there, but the arrows won’t be able to embed themselves in the people’s bodies as they might if you didn’t have it.”

  Burns nodded. "Okay, good. Now, what was the idea you had for how to better tailor the linothorax to each person so they can move better?”

  I was in a frenzy of thinking, and my mouth moved just as fast as my brain would allow it. “You take plaster casts of all the vital areas, probably just the torso and back to create a mold. Or, if there are enough suits of armor in the correct sizes to cover what we need for everyone, you could much more easily take molds of them. Then, you lay the linen out in the mold, cover it with the glue and add another layer of linen and glue. When they’re fully dried, you pry them out of the molds. Then, you build up the linothorax to the thickness you need, but working outward so the armor still fits well. Things like greaves and bracers wouldn’t have to be tailored. They can be produced from a simple pattern and made adjustable with leather straps."

  Burns was nodding fervently along with my explanation. "We may actually have enough resources stockpiled to make this idea work. I'll be sure to pass the idea along to Rolf so he knows what else you've contributed to the safety of the fortress."

  I gave a short nod, my mind still focused on preparations for the possible impending combat situation. "We need to distribute the weapons wisely, too. Each person comes in and takes the ONE weapon they’re best with. Those who won’t be fighting on the front lines only get one weapon to defend themselves with, should Sigrid’s forces manage to reach the caverns where those who cannot fight will be. Then, if there are any weapons left over, those who will be fighting on the front lines get to choose a secondary weapon to work with.”

  Burns pulled me into a startlingly fierce hug. “You may actually be the most brilliant person I’ve ever met. We’ll have to get started immediately to have any hope of getting this done in time. I’ll take this plan to Rolf as soon as we’ve found you some armor, and I’ll have Kieran come in and do weapons training with you until we figure out what weapons you’ll need.”

  I nodded, a grim smile pulling at my lips. “Sounds good. Once I’m done with that for the day, I’ll need to talk to you, Rolf, and the blacksmiths about some defensive strategies that will slow Sigrid’s forces down, at the very least.”

  Burns hugged me again, and an awkward blush bloomed on my cheeks. I hadn’t believed he was capable of such positive emotions when we’d first met. “I knew you couldn’t be as inept as you seemed. You’re going to save us. I’m sure of it,” he whispered. “Now, let’s see about that armor.”

  My level of nervousness skyrocketed as I followed the captain, and I found myself babbling. “You do realize I’ve never worn armor before? I don’t know how to move in it, and I’m not in the best physical condition I could be in, either. I’m bound to move slowly if I’m encumbered.”

  Burns patted me on the arm as he led me to the stockpile of armor. “No worries, dearie. You were correct when you said that the dwarves were brilliant. They were, by far, the most advanced race of people in Daraglathia before they left.”

  I nodded. “I hate to get sidetracked while we’ve got important things to do, but I’d really like to know what made the dwarves leave? I mean...it had to be something huge.”

  Burns nodded. “I don’t suppose it would hurt anything for you to know, especially since you seem to have a greater respect for them than the uneducated masses. I believe that the dwarves left for two reasons. First, they were the most exploited and underrated race in Daraglathia. Their workmanship was beyond compare, as was their collective intelligence.
They invented many great things but were still treated as inferior because they did not possess magic, as elves did.”