Chronicles Of Aronshae (3 Book Omnibus)

by J. K. Barber

  “We call this rock Tavrani Tavra, meaning ‘stop stop’ in Illyander,” the therianthrope relayed.

  “These are beautiful,” Katya said, running a fingertip across the wings of a white owl soaring over a black tower. Iluak simply watched her look at all the pictures, his smile having returned at her enjoyment. “Is this you, Iluak?” He stepped closer to see which illustration she was referring to.

  “No, not specifically. That was probably meant to be Qigiq, my great great aunt. She was my teacher I told you about.” Iluak pointed the great white owl out in two more pictures.

  “What do all these mean?” Katya asked.

  “This boulder stands as warning not to go any further. The land beyond belongs to the Ice Queen. Her men do not usually travel past here either, knowing that the wildlife they hunt for food might be a bit more than they expected,” he said, pointing to a picture of a group of human hunters circling a half stag and half human. “Grandmother Qigiq, as she was called, was our first leader. Her son became chieftain when he became of age, and then his son was Hridayesh. The name has changed since then, but it was Qigiq that founded what is now Tunkaschila Mukwa.” Katya looked at the rock with new understanding. “I wanted to show you this but also you must see what lies behind the stone.”

  The sorceress looked quizzically at the rock like it was supposed to open, but Iluak led her up the side of it. Katya gasped at the view from the top. Before them a glacier of gigantic proportions filled the entire valley below. In it also laid the Ice Queen’s Glacial Palace, its gloomy dark walls illuminated with tiny specks of torchlight. The smooth ice of the glacier appeared to wrap around a small mountain in the center of the basin, on which the castle fortress was built. The stone of the structure was quarried from the same rock that served as its foundation. A large single tower rose from its center with much smaller towers around it further below. The illuminated wall circled the buildings, and a wicked looking bridge crossed over the ice and spanned westward to the opposite valley wall. The castle’s towers had a crystalline look, covered with giant icicles that must have been decades old to have grown so large. The towers themselves were dark save for one squat spire, evidence that the majority of the dwelling did, indeed, appear to be vacant.

  “I flew over just after dusk,” Iluak said. “From what I saw, around the keep and of the patrols in the area, I estimate there are maybe a hundred men and orcs still guarding the castle. There is only one way in and that is through the front gate, which would most likely be slaughter for my people even if we flyers were able to take out some of the archers. We’ll have to scale the wall from the glacier below.” Katya raised an eyebrow at his last statement. The sorceress was a horrible climber. “There must dwell the sub-chief,” Iluak finished, pointing to the one lit tower.

  A chill burst of wind from below blew their cloaks out behind them, and even Iluak quickly grasped the edges of his together again, shielding his chest from the stark cold. Katya shivered terribly as she pulled her own closed. A sense of dread washed over her, and she wanted to be somewhere else far from there immediately. It felt as if invisible ghosts surrounded her, grasping at her clothes with icy hands, begging her to free them from this place.

  “We should return to camp. Let’s get out of here,” the sorceress whispered, her warm breath much more distinct than before as she spoke. “Agreed,” Iluak responded and took her gloved hand in his. They made their way back to camp, but it was much more treacherous on the way back down; clouds had begun to obstruct the moonlight and made it difficult to see where they were going without a light of their own. The feeling of dread Katya had felt before continued to chill her to the bone. Memories of her brief time in the Void with the Shadow Walker months ago floated to the surface of her thoughts. Iluak sensed her discomfort as the sorceress was scrambling to get back to camp. Her footing was poor in her rush and she fell. Her hand still in Iluak’s, he managed to keep her from tumbling off the edge of an outcropping.

  “Katya, peace,” he said putting a strong arm around her and pulled her back onto her feet. “There is nothing to fear. It is just us here.” The raven-haired woman nodded, realizing how silly she must have looked a moment before, appearing like a madwoman clambering back to camp. She still felt chilled to the bones.

  “I am terribly cold all of the sudden, Iluak,” Katya spoke between chattering teeth.

  “Let’s get you back to your tent then quickly but with a bit more care. Alright?” he said, still keeping his arm around her to warm and steady her.

  Katya nodded, and together they traveled back to camp safely. Iluak walked the sorceress to her tent.

  “Thank you, Iluak. I did enjoy seeing Tavrani Tavra. I was merely startled to see The Ice Palace so close,” the sorceress said as they arrived at her abode. “The fresh air helped clear my head too.”

  “I am glad you liked it. With your curiosity about our ways, I figured you would be interested,” Iluak spoke as he released his arm from her waist. “Good night, Tupilek. Sleep well.” He turned to go.

  “Iluak,” Katya called after him. The therianthrope turned back to face her, awaiting her question. The sorceress had no idea what caused her to call to him in truth, other than she didn’t want to part from his company. So what that Iluak was kind, magically inclined, and was strikingly handsome. Now isn’t the time for this, she thought and mentally cursed her damned lonesome feelings.

  “Never mind, Iluak,” Katya said, shaking her head. “I’ll see you at tomorrow’s planning meeting. Mistress Mala will be most interested to hear what you have to report from your reconnoitering of the castle fortress. Sleep well.”

  Iluak nodded with a hint of a smirk before walking off.

  Parinan cursed under his breath as he ducked back down behind the hilltop. “We have a problem. The orcs discovered the tunnel.” The blonde man rubbed the week of stubble on his chin with a leather clad hand. Taking a few steps towards where the others stood waiting, he threw his helmet down into the deep snow in disgust.

  “I told you as much,” Tashed replied, irritation plain in his voice. General Frey’s son, tall and sandy-haired, looked very little like his father, standing there in the snow. Tash, as most people called him, wore a white cloak wrapped around his shoulders that covered his chainmail shirt and the plate pauldron that protected his right shoulder. Over his armor, he wore a fine tabard of blue and red, bearing the entwined dragons of Illyander. Hanging from around his neck, he wore a thick silver chain, denoting his rank of Captain within the King’s Army.

  “I never doubted your word, Tashed,” Parinan replied, his voice similarly indicating irritation and, oddly, a slight tinge of amusement. Abigale, one of the Snowhaven sorcerers who had volunteered for their covert mission, placed her blue mantle up over her mouth to hide her smile, but her crinkled eyes gave her away. Tashed glared at the short, dark-haired sorceress for a moment, but before he could say a word, Parinan continued. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we need to get to that tunnel.”

  “Which isn’t going to happen,” Tashed said. “At least not while accomplishing what it is we need to accomplish.” The Captain of the King’s Calvary turned back towards his men. A score of hand-picked soldiers, chosen for their ability to fight and their skill to be nearly silent while doing so, looked back at their captain. Each was similarly equipped for speed and stealth. They wore light chain armor over a thick black gabardine shirt, a long sword on their hip and a pair of daggers on their belt. Each also carried a thick wooden shield on their arm and a shortbow with a score of arrows in a quiver on their back. Over all of their armor and equipment, the men wore long white cloaks like their captain. Only Tashed’s tabard and chain of rank marked him as any different.

  The former residents of Snowhaven were a different matter. While the four warriors wore the same long white cloaks as the Illyander soldiers, their equipment was as individual as they were. Parinan, of medium height and stocky, wore a thick steel breastplate, an unadorned, metal heater
shield, and a longsword at his hip. Vlaric, of a similar build to Parinan, though with thick black hair and clean shaven, wore an entire suit of chainmail and carried a large two-handed sword slung across his back. A few paces away from everyone else stood Gretta. A strawberry blond woman, whose thin form was almost lost beneath her billowing white cloak, often surprised people with her strength. Though slim, her frame was covered with wiry corded muscle. Gretta carried a long-hilted sword that was built like she was, lengthy and thin but strong, though its reach was well short of Vlaric’s two handed blade. Like the black-haired warrior, she wore a suit of chain, tightly strapped down in several places to allow for full freedom of movement. Standing beside Vlaric was Hal, a short well-muscled man who wore armor similar to that of Parinan, but carried a well-notched battle axe at his hip. His head was clean shaven, though his chin was not. The smaller man looked like he was in the process of growing a goatee, though it had not yet fully filled in. Hal was always smiling, regardless of the mood and especially while fighting.

  The sorcerers paired with each of the warriors, though different in physical appearance, were identically dressed. Mashara, Parinan’s partner, had dark hair that was pulled back into a tight braid. In better days, the young woman, originally from Aeirsga but residing in Snowhaven to study magic, was most often described as “pleasantly plump.” However, the weeks of hardship following the fall of Snowhaven along with the camp food of the Illyander Army had easily carved a score of pounds off the sorceress. Her blue robe hung loosely around her now leaner frame. Nawyn, paired with Vlaric, had long, thick brown hair, now streaked with a few strands of grey, and wore spectacles under her blue velvet hood. Nawyn looked around nervously, her white cloak pulled tightly around her shoulders and nestled shivering in the crook of Vlaric’s arm. Hal’s partner, Abigale, her long chestnut hair in a thick braid hanging well past her waist, would have looked just as much at home wearing armor and sword like her cohort, given her athletic build and wide shoulders. Instead of mail and blade though, the young woman, whose eyes suggested Eastern ancestry somewhere in her past, wore a long blue velvet robe, topped with a silver trimmed mantle, as did all the sorcerers, and carried a long thick staff carved with a myriad of runes and sigils. The only difference between the sorcerers’ staves was the type of wood from which they were made. Rounding out the last pair of Snowhaveners was Gretta’s partner, John. Tall and thin like Gretta, his hair was dark blonde and hung straight as an arrow to just past his shoulders, held back from his eyes by a thin circlet of silver and jade. Usually brash, his behavior was an odd contrast to Gretta’s quiet reserved manner. John was also Hal’s brother; both men had come from Valshet at a young age, when John’s sorcerous talents began to manifest. Hal, refusing to be parted from his older brother, had traveled with him, begging Mistress Mala to take him on as a student. Luckily, the young man from the sea trader’s town had been a quick learner and graduated at the same time as his sibling. Though brothers, the pair looked nothing alike. Besides having different heights and builds, Hal’s hair was thinning, his head shaven closely so that only dark stubble showed, while John’s long hair was thick and blonde. The only thing that backed up the claim that the two men were brothers was their mannerisms. Each of them, when they spoke or gestured were almost identical in their inflections and movements.

  Tashed finished looking over the refugees from Snowhaven and turned back towards Parinan. Though their personalities had collided several times on their mission, Tashed found he had a grudging respect for the man. All the men and women from Snowhaven had an almost haunted looked to their faces; the weight of losing their home, which was supposed to be unbreachable, had worn on them all, both physically and mentally. However, refusing to buckle under the burden of such unexpected sorrow, these same men and women had worked harder and longer than anyone else in General Frey’s army, laboring for the day they would once again take back their home and drive the invading orcs and the Ice Queen out. There was a steel in Parinan’s eye that almost made Tashed look away, intimidated by the Snowhaven man’s resolve.

  “We need to get by those ice orcs,” Tash said, gesturing at the blue-skinned creatures out of sight on the other side of the small hill.

  “Agreed,” Parinan responded. “Which I believe this group can easily do.” The warrior indicated the assembled soldiers, warriors and sorcerers.

  “Nevertheless,” Tashed quickly added, “to do so, would endanger our mission.”

  “How so?” Hal asked, stepping forward.

  “While we have every chance of success at defeating the orcs and getting into that tunnel, we have no guarantee that one of them won’t make a run for it at the first sign of trouble and alert the Ice Queen.”

  John rubbed his clean shaven chin, seeing the logic in Tashed’s words. “We could go in at night, try to take their sentries out quickly and quietly, killing the rest in their sleep.”

  “That won’t work either,” Nawyn spoke up, her brow slightly furrowed as she contemplated the situation. Everyone’s eyes looked at her questioningly, so the brown-haired sorceress continued. “Orcs can see in the dark better than we can. There’s very little chance we’ll be able to take them unawares.”

  “What if we blasted them all at once,” John asked, “like we used to do from the walls of Snowhaven? We could kill the whole lot before they had time to react.”

  As the sorcerers contemplated the idea, Tashed spoke up. “And how much noise would that make?” The tall captain did not wait for a response, knowing the answer as he asked the question. “Quite a bit. No, we need to figure out something else or this mission is done before it starts, and the King’s Army will be marching into a killing field in front of Snowhaven’s gates.”

  “Well, what do you propose we do then?” Parinan asked, his voice becoming warm with frustration and anger. “Go up and ask them to please go away so that we can sneak in and kill all their friends?”

  Tashed took a step towards the Snowhaven man, using his height to look down on the warrior, both literally and figuratively. The Captain’s tension was caught by his men and there was a rustling of mail as cloaks were drawn back from still sheathed longswords. “No, of course not,” Tashed replied, his voice just as heated as Parinan’s. “But I am open to suggestions,” he turned towards John. “Ones that don’t include ‘how about we just blow them all up?’”

  Parinan poked a gauntleted finger into Tashed’s chest. “Hey! There is no call to be rude to him,” the blonde-haired warrior said, indicating John. “We’re all mad about this, but don’t take it out on him just because the ‘great Tashed’ can’t figure out a way around a handful of orcs.” Abigale raised her sleeve to her mouth again, barely suppressing a giggle.

  Tashed rounded on the dark-haired woman. “What?!” he demanded. “What is it that is so damned funny?”

  Before Abigale could respond, Parinan grabbed Tashed’s tabard, directing the Captain’s attention back to him. “Don’t talk to her like that.” Parinan ignored it as hands went to the hilts of a dozen Illyander longswords. Tashed’s men did not care for the manhandling of their commander.

  Tashed knocked the Snowhaven warrior’s hand away, taking a step back. The captain’s face was reddening with anger. “How dare you put your hand on me! I am a Captain in the King’s Army and the son of its General. I am not some bumpkin from some backwater town out in the middle of nowhere for you to push around just because you know which end of a sword is the pointy end.” Tashed’s hand went to the hilt of his sword and while the blade remained sheathed, the threat was clear.

  Hal stepped between the two men, his hand held up, far away from his weapon. “Easy,” he said, trying to get the other two men’s attention. “We’re all on the same side here, remember?” Tashed and Parinan continued to glare at each other over Hal’s head.

  Tense silence continued for several moments until Mashara cleared her throat quietly. When neither man looked away from each other, the woman simply started talking. “What
about the mine?” she asked.

  Parinan and Tashed turned their heads towards Mashara saying “What?!” in unison. Realizing they had both spoken the same word simultaneously, they once again returned their attention to each other.

  The glaring continued until she spoke again. “The mine,” she said, then clarified. “The gem mine west of Snowhaven; Mistress Mala told us the tunnels connected to this main tunnel when we were escaping.” Everyone’s eyes fell on the dark-haired sorceress and she colored slightly at the attention. “In case there was a cave in and the main entrance was blocked, there was a branch off the mine that connected to the tunnel beneath Snowhaven. If we can find that passageway, then we don’t have to worry about the orcs at the entrance to this one.”

  “That could work,” Tashed said, his attention now on the mission which had been given to him to accomplish. The Captain of the King’s Calvary contemplated the matter for a while and then nodded to himself. “That would work much better. There would be much less chance that we would be discovered. Plus, there would be less risk for you sorcerers.”

  “Aww,” John said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “I didn’t know you cared.” Hal traded a look with his brother, a bemused smile on both their faces.

  “I don’t, really” Tashed responded, his tone indicating complete sincerity. “However, the more of you that make it through to Snowhaven to do your job, the better our chances are of getting those gates open.”

  Mashara’s eyebrows shot up as she opened her mouth to speak, but Parinan cut her off with a shake of his head. Now was not the time to point out Tashed’s shortcomings in tact.

  “How do you know you can find it?” the Captain asked, looking around at the men and women from Snowhaven. Doubt crept into Tashed’s voice. They did not have unlimited time. The King’s Army would be awaiting signal from the small band of soldiers, warriors and sorcerers to begin their advance on the gates of Snowhaven. Should they have to wait too long, there was increased chance that the ice orc scouts would discover General Frey’s men were ready for another massive push into Snowhaven. Luckily, the dragon attacks had abated somewhat. It had been several days since the white-scaled creatures had flown over the King’s Army, but no one held any illusions that the aerial attacks had stopped for good. Eventually, the winged creatures would return and their window of opportunity would be gone.