Chapter 7
Reynard
I’d thought it impossible to fit an army inside a village, but Ivar managed it. The men drew straws, with the losers sleeping under canvas between the houses with bonfires in the square.
By the time dusk fell, the area resembled a large military camp, brightly illuminated by smoky torches, with families strolling around, offering hearty soup.
We were ready in time for nightfall, but despite everything seeming calm, I felt uneasy, struggling to identify the sensation that churned inside me.
Is the priestess of Makosh right? Will she really come? The thought of Roksana in her absurdly oversized kitchen, steaming mug held in poison-stained fingers, comforted me. No, my Viper was safe in Truso, safe from the frost and the danger.
Snow began falling, the afternoon’s brief respite welcome, but far too short. A brisk wind rattled canvas and shutters alike until dark clouds completely obscured the stars.
‘There’s a blizzard coming, sire. You should go to the inn and rest. I’ll stay with the watch. We’re well protected here, but I asked the men to gather more wood in case we’re trapped for more than one day,’ Ivar said, joining me at the palisade.
‘Let’s hope not. Bothering these people for a single day is enough of a burden.
Any more would cause them difficulty,’ I said, giving him the perfect excuse to march out as soon as the weather allowed.
‘Send for the leader of the battlemage unit. We need to talk.’ I brushed snow off my hair, and Ivar gestured to a squire, repeating my instructions.
As we waited, the Lord Marshal made a remark that caught me off guard. ‘I’m not judging, but the entire unit locked themselves in a barn without even asking for rations.’
‘Why? Hah… never mind. I’ll speak with the leader even if you have to light a fire under his arse.’
‘You want to ask them about the wraiths?’ The formalities were dropped now that the squire had departed.
‘Yes, I heard something interesting from the Babcia who let us in. We may need a plan on how to fight them.’
Ivar turned to me, eyebrow rising in surprise. ‘She must have really impressed you to earn such an honourable title.’ My scowl only made him chuckle. ‘Well, I met your grandmother. I’d say she wouldn’t mind the comparison.’
He was still smiling when Marius, the battlemage’s captain, arrived. The mage was tall, lean and… ashen. His skin, normally as dark as ebony, was a shade of grey I’d never seen before. I barely recognised him.
‘Sire, you wished to see me?’ He tilted his head in greeting.
‘Is something wrong?’ I asked, stepping closer to him. The wraiths could wait. I was more concerned with why my strongest mage looked like a badly resurrected remnant barely holding itself together.
‘Yes, sire. All the mages are struggling. Ever since we entered the forest, we’ve been dealing with aether flux.
Our spells are unstable, some not working at all or becoming dangerous for the mage casting them.
Whatever’s causing it, our aether reserves are constantly being drained.
’ He wiped the sweat from his forehead. ‘If it doesn’t stabilise soon, I fear we won’t be much of use. ’
‘What about the healers?’ I could cover the absence of battle mages with my other forces, but losing the healers would cause serious problems on the battlefield and during the march.
‘Every aether user is affected,’ he said grimly, swallowing hard and grasping the rails when a bout of nausea left him gasping.
‘Why didn’t you report it earlier? This isn’t an issue we can ignore.
’ I massaged my neck at a sudden change in pressure, a howling gust of wind drowning out my words.
Marius winced, reacting to the gale as if something unnatural were controlling it.
‘Are you able to talk? We need to discuss the village’s situation. ’
‘Yes… talking I can manage,’ he said, determination straightening his back.
I shielded my eyes, waiting for the wind to quieten before asking, ‘Have you heard about the wraiths they encountered? Creatures that can possess a human corpse and freeze people with their touch?’
‘I’ve never heard of such a thing, sire. There are stories from sea merchants and pirates from beyond the frozen Morgawr Sea about creatures made of pure ice, but I’m guessing that’s not what you mean.’
His answer didn’t fit Wrona’s description.
Despite not knowing what they were, I needed a way to deal with them.
‘The Servant of Makosh told me their magic is disrupted by fire. Is there any way to use that offensively?’ My question was met with an absent stare, and I looked at the mage with concern.
I clasped his shoulders and shook him gently. ‘Still with me?’
‘Forgive me, sire. The flux is getting stronger. The wraiths? Yes, fire should help if it’s strong enough. I haven’t encountered them, so your guess is as good as mine,’ he said, rubbing his temple. We both jerked when a soldier stationed on the palisade blew his horn.
‘The fog is moving against the wind,’ Ivar said, his posture full of coiled awareness, hand drifting to his sword.
‘The flux is… Gods, I can barely see straight.’ The mage gasped, clutching the wooden beams for support.
A second horn sounded, dulled by the white mist gathering at our feet.
We used them to check the perimeter, a trick I’d learned from sailors travelling in fog.
It took training and a good ear, but the nuances in the horn’s tone revealed hidden dangers.
‘Nock arrows!’ came from further down the palisade, followed by the sound of arrows being pulled from their quivers.
‘Fuck… get ready to fight. Muster the men and gather the villagers in the town square. Prioritise the inhabitants’ lives, then make sure the animals are secure. Don’t take any avoidable risks,’ I told Ivar, then drew my sword.
The sound of Marius retching made me close my eyes, jaw tightening. As if facing an unknown enemy wasn’t enough, watching the battle mage hang over the railing, limp as a wet rag while he expelled the contents of his guts, broke the limit of my patience.
‘Whatever comes with this mist, it isn’t just draining us – it’s corrupting the aether,’ he said, catching his breath. ‘I might be mistaken, but I think someone’s cut the veil to the void.’
Who has the power to– Fuck!
‘Get your arse out of the way and gather your team in the square with the villagers. Talk to them, to Wrona; she knows more than she’s admitting.
Get me some gods-bedamned answers!’ I shouted without looking at him.
It wasn’t his fault, but I was at the end of my tether, and I needed some answers to help keep my men and the villagers safe.
He nodded, staggering away. A strange dread washed over me, followed by a dizziness that blurred my vision.
Instinct took over. My feet slid into fighting position, my sword at guard, but the flash of movement that caught my attention didn’t feel like a threat.
The mist swirled, its white wisps dancing with the snow, unveiling a form emerging from its depths: a traveller, or a beast.
‘Ready…’ the call came from my left. Bowstrings creaked, my men preparing to release their arrows.
My world was focused on this one point, watching, waiting…
one possibility after another flashing through my mind.
My heart beat louder and louder in my chest until there was nothing but the roaring of blood in my ears.
The moment the mist gave way and released its hold on the distant figure, the world stuttered to a halt. I nearly leapt from the palisade at the sight of liquid gold whipping free of the dark cloak hiding it.
It can’t be… No! It can’t…
The figure swayed so drunkenly that surely only the gods’ favour kept them in the saddle, but their movements revealed someone else astride the steed.
The horse brayed as it lost its footing, a terrifying sound in the darkness.
The exhausted animal stumbled each time the wisps of fog caressed its heaving flanks.
The rider straightened, raising her hand, and I felt something buffet my soul.
The sudden burst of power was so strong, it ripped the hood from the rider’s head, revealing the face of the woman I’d thought safe at home.
A green glow emerged from the rider, forcing the fog to recoil and hiss as its tendrils snapped at other figures within its depths.
The old woman’s words returned so loud they drowned out everything else.
‘Roksana!’ I bellowed before shouting to my men. ‘Lower your bows and open the bloody gates – that’s my woman you’re aiming at!’
How she got here, I didn’t know, but with that woman, anything was possible. I cursed myself for revoking her blood oath. At least then she would have followed my orders and stayed safe. I’m going to turn her arse red for this recklessness, but gods… I need to get her to safety.
‘Open the gate! Gods damn it. Open the fucking gate! She can’t hold on much longer!’ The loud, booming voice from behind Sana, carried by the wind, drove all doubt, all rational thought, from my mind. That bloody dwarf was the only thing keeping her in the saddle, but for how long?
‘Open the gate!’ I shouted once again, leaping down three steps at a time as I rushed to do it myself. I was snarling wordlessly, the berserker rage taking over as I tossed aside anyone who tried to stop me.
‘Sire, no! You heard the villagers – it’s the wraiths. Stop! Please, sire…’ Ivar grasped my arm, but I shook him off, finally managing to speak.
‘I know my woman,’ That was all I could muster before pushing forward like a battering ram.
Anyone who blocked my way was sent flying until, with a wordless roar, I slammed into the gate, hefting its heavy beam as if it were nothing.
I took one step outside the palisade, and the fog coiled around my legs, reaching past to enter the village.