Chapter 5
Reynard
‘The scouts are back, sire. The road ahead is clear.’ The officer stepped forward, hunching over the fire as soon as I gestured for him to approach.
Frost clung to his moustache, but when his fingers spread over the blazing coals, the trembling lessened.
There was little warmth to garner from the small metal brazier, but it was a luxury many soldiers didn’t have.
I joined him, enjoying the brief respite from the maps and ledgers.
‘Have the mages anything to offer for this damn weather?’ I could plan everything, except the weather.
It was becoming the harshest winter in decades, and at this rate, half of my army would be crippled by the winter cough or frostbite before we reached Wiosna.
‘Not yet, sire, but I don’t think we can wait any longer. We’re running out of coal and dry wood, and I don’t think the horses can withstand another night in these conditions,’ the officer said, and I ground my teeth.
M?ot, you stupid, belligerent bastard. I could be in the palace pressed against my woman to keep warm, but no…
why not freeze my arse off on a winter campaign?
My thoughts drifted to Sana, and I felt it again.
The shadow of amusement, as if something…
someone was observing me. That, or I was losing my mind.
I shook my head, focusing on the task at hand.
‘Fine, prepare to move out, and tell the trackers to go ahead and alert the nearest village; we’ll set up camp there.
’ If the village is still standing. I didn’t say it out loud.
I didn’t have to; my officer’s expression told me he was considering this possibility as well.
Two days ago, we’d encountered the first settlement I’d planned to camp at, heavy snow almost burying us as we marched. Only the combined efforts of the mages and our ever-resilient infantry saved the army from freezing to death between the charred, ruined buildings and enormous snowdrifts.
After digging ourselves out of the snow come morning, we’d searched the ruins.
While everything was mostly buried, there was still evidence of fighting, and despite the crisp morning air, we could detect the acrid stench of smoke and blood, leading to an almost intact barn.
At first, I hadn’t understood what we were looking at.
The snow obscured everything, yet at a young soldier’s broken sob, we’d soon learned exactly what it was.
It had started with a blood-soaked mitten, small, fit for a child, and untouched by the fire.
Then an arm, charred but recognisable, large and masculine, wrapped around a much smaller corpse.
A man protecting a loved one until the very last moment.
The grim discoveries continued until hardened warriors struggled to hold back their tears.
Nausea rose in my throat, filling it with the bitter taste of failure. These were my people, and when they’d needed me, I hadn’t been there. I knew the brutality of war, but this… for this, M?ot would pay a hundredfold.
‘Let’s go,’ I said, standing up and nodding to the guards. ‘Pack the tents. We march as soon as everything’s stowed.’
I stood outside my tent, the icy wind whipping my cloak wildly, trying to steal the warmth of the fire preserved under the fur lining. The camp smelled of smoke and roasted meat, and I watched my men huddle around the firepits, the damp wood giving off more smoke than warmth.
I was going to win this war. M?ot’s treachery was enough to take drastic measures, but he’d made it personal, targeting the innocent, the defenceless. He’ll never know what’s hit him when I descend on him with all the power of Dagome’s army and the dragons I still have in my service.
‘Sire, your horse is ready.’ The stable boy was leading Kary, my stallion, who offered a friendly neigh when he saw me, then pushed forward with such force that he dragged the young man off his feet. ‘Oh, for Perun’s sake, what’s gotten into you today?’ he said, landing face-first in a snowdrift.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, pressing my lips tightly together, holding back my laughter to not add to his embarrassment.
‘The horses are unsettled, sire. Several tried to bolt, injuring themselves on the ropes. Something’s spooked them, but we can’t find the reason,’ he said, promptly brushing the snow from his tunic.
I nodded, adding this information to the list of minor incidents that had plagued the army since we’d set out.
‘Keep your eyes open. There may have been wolves sniffing around the…’ I stopped trying to spare the boy.
‘The scent might be disturbing the horses. Use some ground fennel seed to mask the smell; it might help.’ I mounted Kary, and the boy nodded, stepping away when I urged my horse forward.
The roads were still visible under the snow, but an army couldn’t travel easily in these conditions. Heavy boots and hooves churned up the ground into a deep, grey mush that dragged at feet and wheels alike, slowing us significantly.
‘The reality of war,’ I muttered, spreading my cloak over Kary, ‘a few moments of sheer horror and weeks of trudging balls-deep in the mud.’
The questioning look my squire gave me provoked a knowing smirk, but I couldn’t blame him. He would learn that war was much less glamorous than the bard’s songs.
By the time we arrived at the village nearest to Wiosna’s border, everyone was at the end of their tether, and I had to stop my officers from snapping at the villagers who greeted us.
Not that I didn’t want to twist their necks myself, since the welcome committee wielded pitchforks and torches while my scouts were nowhere to be seen.
‘Stay away! We have nothing left to steal!’ shouted the elderly man standing on a mound behind a palisade.
I scowled, remaining silent, gaze sweeping over our surroundings as Ivar, my Lord Marshal, spoke. ‘You have homes, barns, and workshops for the men to rest in. Open the gates, good sir. After all, you wouldn’t want the King of Dagome to sleep in a field.’
The palisade had been recently repaired, with fresh tree trunks standing beside their scarred counterparts, and others driven in at an angle, their tips sharpened and pointing outward to repel charging horses.
Despite the need to preserve wood, the fires on the fortified mounds burned brightly, and the men with bows and scythes silently observed the forest, as well as the army.
‘I don’t care who you are. We fought off the dwarves, and we’ll fight you off. Why should I believe your claims? There are plenty of strange creatures and bandits from the mountains with their lies and strange clothing. Leave! Go back where you came from.’
The elder stood defiant, challenging us and only flinching slightly when Ivar gestured for the rest of the army to emerge from the treeline.
‘First, return the king’s men – and they’d better be unharmed. Then you have a choice. Either open the gates willingly, or we’ll open them for you,’ the Lord Marshal said calmly.
I’d chosen my new Lord Marshal for his cool composure, and he didn’t fail me. He wasn’t some youngster seeking glory or an ambitious man trying to earn a title. Ivar was a veteran of many campaigns and someone who cherished his men’s lives more than money or even victory.
I turned to my subordinate. ‘No, we won’t do that. You saw what happened in the last village. They’re just afraid,’ I said, nudging my horse closer to the gates. Ivar cursed under his breath when several bowmen aimed in my direction, but I didn’t stop until I could see their expressions clearly.
‘Stay away, wraith!’ someone shouted.
‘Wraith? What have you encountered that you don’t believe your own eyes, elder?
’ My question hit the mark. The signs were subtle.
His shoulders squared as if fear stiffened his posture.
When the man’s knuckles went white from how hard he squeezed his axe, I asked another question. ‘What happened to the other village?’
‘The White Death came for them, and now you’ve brought it to us,’ he answered in a hollow, hopeless voice. ‘Leave! Now!’
‘Open this bloody gate. He’s no wraith,’ came a female voice from beyond the palisade, followed by the sound of shuffling and more muttering. ‘Bloody men, afraid of their own shadows. Open the gate, or I’ll hex your stupid head bald.’
Whoever this woman was, she clearly held a position of authority in the village because, after a short squabble, the gate opened a notch. A female, old and supporting her twisted spine with an equally twisted cane, stepped out, shuffling in my direction.
I dismounted, but even standing on the ground, the elderly woman barely reached my chest. As she struggled to look up at me, her neck twisted so much it must have caused her pain. My men murmured when I dropped to one knee to make it easier for us to talk. ‘So, you’re the king, huh?’
‘Yes, honoured elder. And you are?’ I asked.
Her brazen manner reminded me of someone else who was unafraid to speak her mind. You’d like her, Viper, I thought before the old woman’s snort of derision made me smile despite my best intentions.
‘Honoured elder, hah! Silly boy. I’m just Wrona. What do you want here? Have you come to protect us from the wraiths or to steal our winter stocks like the others before you?’ she asked, leaning heavily on her cane.
‘We have our own supplies, but I would beg your indulgence for my men. We seek a place to lay our heads that won’t be blown away,’ I said, and as we spoke, the gates opened wider and more curious villagers spilled out, cautiously observing our conversation.
The defiant elder stepped forward to join Wrona.
‘However, if you’d tell me about the wraiths, I’ll see what we can do to help.
We have battle mages in our ranks and enough men to chase away any physical threats. ’
Ivar joined us, standing quietly beside me while the men drew closer to protect me.