Chapter Four: Death by a Thousand Icicles

CChapter Four: Death by a Thousand Icicles

            The hunters struck out shortly after breakfast. Luthe was up ahead with Scurjal, consulting the map of winding paths across the slopes. Ciara and Nari were up ahead, talking to each other as though they had known each other all their lives. Carsten brought up the rear, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Something about this morning just felt wrong to him. He turned back, looking at the mile of path they had put behind them in their first five hours of travel. It was near midday, but he had little say in when they stopped, so he had suppressed his hunger for about two of those hours. As he turned now, he distinctly saw the shape of man standing on the path. His hand was raised in a gesture that Carsten recognized as a signal to halt, often given to troops marching to battle. The man was shrouded by a massive black cloak, but his head was clearly visible, and Carsten could see a long, red mark on his right cheek. The dwarf shivered, feeling the same chill he had when the shadows had appeared that morning in the village. He turned to the others, but they had not stopped and gave no sign that they had seen him. Carsten’s eyes went back to the man, but he was gone. In fact, only nebulous wisps of shadow around the area indicated that it had been more than him imagining things. The red-haired dwarf blinked, trying to clear his head. What he had seen was no hallucination, of that he was sure. But what the man was trying to do, or how he vanished, Carsten had no idea. Carsten shrugged and picked up his pace, trying to catch the others.

            It became evident at about three o’clock in the morning that they would not make it to the village tonight, either. However, Luthe had no desire to stay outside again that night. So, he hatched a daring plan. Because there were woods on this mountain, as opposed to the others, he believed that there might be phantoms in the area. After all, most of the attacks he had seen had occurred in wooded areas or close by them. Luthe, as well, was concerned with this, but he had other ideas about what to do. Carsten spoke to him about it as they were making camp.

            “We shouldn’t stay here,” the dwarf said. “The woods make me nervous, Luthe. Pushing on would be safer.” Luthe, who was hammering Ciara’s tent to the ground, shook his head.

            “Is it?” he asked. “We can move on and drop from exhaustion or stay here and maybe get attacked.”

            “It is not a maybe,” Carsten replied as he laid out his bedroll under his tent. “You said you heard that there were phantoms in the area. Are you truly going to risk your life on the off-chance that you are safe here?”

            Luthe sighed as he hammered the final peg into the ground. “All right,” he said, rising to his feet. “You really want to leave?” Carsten shook his head.

            “I want to know what we do if we get attacked,” he corrected. “I’m not too keen on getting torn to pieces in my sleep.”

            Luthe nodded slowly. “Fair point. All right, when we eat, I will lay out our contingency plan for attack.”

            Their meal was quiet, except for Luthe laying out his plan. Of course, no one really fancied ice-cold wayfarer’s bread anyway, but they ate out of force of habit.

            “It has been brought to my attention-” he said, looking sidelong at Carsten, “-that we ought to be vigilant in this area. After all, several phantom attacks have been reported in the vicinity.”

            Nari looked around nervously. “Then why are we camping here?”

            “Because this area is dangerous,” Carsten replied. “As I understand it, there are several groups of bandits here, and each one is quite willing to kill first and then search corpses.”

            “So what we do?” Scurjal asked. Luthe looked at the tense faces around the fire before he said what he was thinking.

            “We set a trap for them,” he said finally. Ciara laughed harshly.

            “That is your plan?” she challenged.

            Luthe nodded. “Yes, it is. Is that a problem?”

            “Yes, it is a problem! Trying to trap them is not desperate,” she protested, “it is not even crazy. It is insanity, and quite possibly suicidal.”

            “You cannot call a plan insane simply because you disagree with it,” Luthe pointed out.

            “It is not because I do not agree with it,” she snapped. “It’s because you are doing something that I expected of a numbskull.”

            “It cannot be that bad,” he said. “This plan has worked before on a variety of beasts.”

            “It worked with animals we knew how to trap,” she shot back. “These beasts have never, that we can verify, been killed. We take an awful risk to try this.”

            “It is risky, I grant,” Luthe replied. “However, I think that we could do this if we really felt like it.”

            “How?” Carsten asked. “We’re not exactly going to be able to dig a pit. The ground is frozen solid, and we have no excavation tools anyway.”

            “This plan doesn’t require a pit,” Luthe replied. “All we need is some meat and nightfall.” He stood, leaning against a rock as he laid out his plan. The others listened for the extent of it, but after he had finished, Scurjal and Nari were shaking their heads.

            “Too risky,” Scurjal muttered. “We get killed for sure.”

            “I think this is poorly conceived,” Nari said. “It seems like a lot of chancy wagers. Are we really willing to risk our lives for something that probably won’t work?”

            “It is actually viable,” Carsten said. “We just have to execute it exactly.”

            “And if we do not?” Nari challenged.

            “We will all probably die,” Carsten replied. “So we have at least some incentive.”

            Nightfall seemed slow in coming, even though the days were almost at their shortest. The plan was simple: Carsten, as the only one among the hunters without a bow or other long-distance weapon, would serve as living bait for the beasts. The elves and Scurjal would be concealed in a copse of trees about one hundred yards from the campsite that had been left there. A group of hunters that had been slain by the beasts had set it up, and Carsten felt irreverent for using it. Weapons, blood, and pieces of clothing were scattered about, but there were no bodies nor other signs of violence. If the stories witnesses had told were to be believed, the beasts would most likely attack right after sundown, and they would only do so if there were three or fewer hunters present. Carsten sat on a log, idly whittling something his hands. It was beginning to the take the general form of a dragon, but Carsten had not originally intended for it to be so. What he had meant, he did not know. But he was content to let his work drive itself, and he was liking the way the dragon looked. He put down his work and took out his sharpening steel, running it along the blade until he had honed it to a fine and deadly edge. He looked up, seeing that the sun had now set and dusk had descended. He sheathed the small knife and took out his axe. However, the dwarf had barely set the sharpening steel to it when he heard the wind kick up. Then, the shrieking started. He turned and looked up the mountain, but there was nothing there. Scanning the hillside, he could see nothing to the left or right. Looking down, he saw, to his shock, that seven or eight white streaks were racing to where the dark elf hunters and Scurjal were concealed on the tree-line. And they were closing fast; too fast for Carsten to stop them. Looking desperately around, he saw that there was a large, round shield half-buried in the snow that the others had left behind. He muttered a quick prayer, launched the shield into the air with his foot, and grabbed the straps. Sitting down on the dome of metal, he gave a nearby rock a solid kick, sending him off down the mountainside. Here was hoping this thing could survive the trip.

            Ciara was the first to spot the bests, and she shouted a warning. Luthe and Nari both loosed arrows, trying to hit the beasts before they got close enough to attack with tooth and claw. While they did manage to slow their approach (and, more importantly, land a few hits), they did not stop the oncoming monsters. Ciara and Scurjal also loosed a few projectiles, and while they too found a few marks, the beasts were still moving too fast to hit decisively. After several minutes of watching the beasts come on, the dragons crossed the tree-line. They had left a trail of red blood behind them, but they were, if anything, only further maddened to carry out their wicked intent. Luthe slipped the bow over his shoulder and drew his hunting knives.

            “Time to get messy,” he said, assuming a low crouch. The lead beast was six feet from his sister, and closing fast. He broke into a run, even though he already knew that he could not close the distance in time. Suddenly, he was aware of a verdant flash on his left, and a bolt of green light ripped through the air, impacting the beast full in the chest. It shrieked, and then there was another burst of light as the arrow that had struck it broke and splintered in a nova of blazing luminescence. The blast of magical energy pitched Ciara and Luthe backward and threw the dragon about six feet to the left and it impacted a tree with a bone-crunching snap. Its limp form sank to the white snow blanket, dead before it hit the ground. Luthe looked backward and saw Nari lower her bow, her hands still smoking slightly.

            “What…” She shrugged, nocking another arrow and whispering a few words in a language Luthe had never heard. The green light began slowly, enveloping the whole projectile in an aura of deadly emerald brilliance.

            “Stop gaping,” she said, taking aim. “There are still about six of them to go.”

            Carsten came down the mountain at breakneck speed, trying in vain to maneuver the metal disc he was riding. The trees proved difficult to navigate, but he had not hit one yet. Otherwise, he would have been dead. However, they were not the only obstacle he had to avoid. He hit more than one rock, the last of which pitched him into the air. He looked down at the ground and saw that he was going to fall right in the midst of the fight going on between the hunters and the beasts attacking them. He unstrapped the shield, throwing it aside, and aimed himself for one of the beasts, which had Nari pinned beneath its foot. Might as well have a cushioned landing, he reflected. That was before he realized that it would still probably hurt.

            Nari looked the beast in the eye, unflinching in the face of certain death. Two more beasts after the first had been slain by her magical arrows, but this one had managed to get behind her and knock her down. Scurjal had brought down another beast with his blowpipe, because his darts were poisoned. Now, it had drawn back its right forelimb to deliver the killing blow to the elf beneath his claws. But it stopped, looking up in surprise at something hurtling toward it. Nari was aware of a small, dark shape, which struck the dragon on the back with a solid whump. The dragon momentarily released its grip, and Nari wiggled out from under its foot and caught her bow in one hand and her fallen quiver in the other. Carsten had come from heaven knew where and attacked the beast, a sword in his left hand now that he was on the ground. The beast lunged for him, but he quickly sidestepped and flicked his wrist. The beast gave a howl of pain and anger and snapped its left leg in a quick motion, striking him full in the chest. The dwarf went flying backward, his sword spinning from his grip. Striking a nearby rock, he heard a solid crack and felt a searing pain in his torso. At least one rib gone, he thought angrily. Just great. He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a follow-up rush from the beast, who kept going and bashed its own body against the stone. Reaching into his belt, he drew his throwing axe and hurled it at the beast with all its might. The dragon got up, lunging for him a second time. But the axe was swifter; it split the air with lightning speed, impacting the beast dead-on in the side. It slowed, but did not stop in its charge. It was on him again, its claws dashing against his mail coat. However, the armor held up against the battering, even though it was painful, to say the least. Frustrated, the dragon picked him up in its jaws and was about to shake him to snap his neck before it gave a howl of pain. He had drawn one of the knives that he kept in his vambraces and thrust it into its snout. He fell to the snow, gasping in pain and desperately trying to take in air. He looked up at the beast, who was clawing its face trying to withdraw the embedded blade. He drew a second, longer knife and, in a desperate rush, slid between its legs and slashed its midsection in a swift horizontal cut, followed by a vertical jerk. The creature took two halfhearted steps forward before dropping onto the snow, an ominous red stain spreading out from where it fell. Carsten slid out from under the body as the white shape collapsed on the ground. He got to his feet just in time to see a second dragon lunging for him, claws outstretched. Suddenly, he heard a high-pitched whistling sound, followed by a solid whack. A trio of arrows materialized as if by magic in the beast’s chest, neck, and head. It stopped mid-leap and crashed to the snow in a shower of white powder. He turned and saw Luthe standing a few feet away, another arrow nocked. Behind him lay two more of the creatures, dead in the snow. Carsten winced, supporting himself on a nearby tree.

            “Well, that could have gone better,” he coughed.

            Nari, who was busy tending to some of Ciara’s injuries, including a deep gash in her side and another in her forehead, looked up at him. “And it could have been worse. But we are all still in one piece, so we have a good deal to be thankful for.” She finished applying salves and poultices and got to her feet. “Now let me have a look at you,” she said, wiping the blood from her hands.

            Carsten shook his head. “I…I am fine,” he said. “Really.” Nari smirked, kneeling to look at his side.

            “No, you are not. Stop with the stoic act. You are obviously in pain. Come on. Let me see.” Carsten shook his head again.

            “No…stop…” but he was too late. She had removed his mail shirt and opened the front of his jerkin. She stopped momentarily, seeing the necklace he wore about his neck. Her eyes widened in shock, and it was several seconds before she could speak. When here voice came back, it did so with a vengeance.

            “You…you…how could you?!” she suddenly broke out. “Why did you keep this from us us? Travelling hunter, my eye, you liar. That is the Brownbeard clan symbol, and there is an emerald on the chain. They reserve that stone for royalty. You are their heir, are you not? Honestly, you could have said something!” Carsten winced.

            “I said nothing because I did not know you, or the others, for that matter. What would you have done? Told all and sundry that you have a price on your head because of your bloodline? I think not, starlight. You would have kept it a secret.” She undid the clasps on the rest of his jerkin angrily. Starlight was a term of endearment among dark elves, one that most other races did not know. That he did and used it only served to irritate her further.

            “Do not call me starlight,” She snapped. “You lied to us!”

            Luthe, hearing the commotion, walked over to see what it was about. When he caught sight of the brand, he looked at Carsten, one eyebrow raised. His hands were on his hips

            “Travelling hunter? Really?” He asked. “You know you could have told us the truth, do you not?” Carsten grimaced as a bolt of magical energy lanced from Nari’s hand, sealing a laceration in his midsection left by the dragon’s claws. Steam rose from the wound as the elf healer sealed it.

            “Now I do,” he replied. “Then, I was still unsure. Sorry.” Nari scowled as she worked. Carsten gasped in pain as her magic cauterization took on a scorching temperature. “Easy on the heat, lass.” She finished that laceration and moved on to another, her eyes still venomously narrowed.

            “Sorry does not even remotely begin to cover it,” she spat. “Anything else you want to tell us, before we get killed?” Carsten would have shrugged, but he could not, laying down as he was.

            “Nothing comes to mind at the moment,” he replied. Her expression softened as she laid a hand on his bruised ribcage. While dwarf mail might have kept the dragon’s teeth out of his gut, they had still done significant damage, as had being pitched against a tree. He had two broken at least, although she would not be surprised if there were more small fractures beneath the skin that she could not see. She carefully placed her hand on his side, noticing that he winced in pain.

            “I am sorry, Carsten. I should not have yelled. I just…I don’t like being lied to, is all.” She set about her work, taking out some herbs and crushing them with a pestle she removed from the satchel she wore slung over her shoulder. Taking out a strip of cloth, she wound it around his chest, fastening it over one of the spots where the teeth had penetrated his armor. He grimaced as she tightened the bandage, and then sank back against a log, breathing slowly and evenly.

“It will be awhile before you can move normally again. You should be fine in a few days when we start north again. Although we’re going to Luthe’s village, not to another hunt.” He massaged his side.

            “Thanks. At least we have some time to rest, if that is the case,” he said. “How was Scurjal, by the way? I did not see how he fared in the battle.”

            “Scurjal?” She repeated. Then, it occurred to her that she had lost sight of him in the chaos of the fight. Looking around, she could see no sign of the goblin. He had gone toe-to-toe with one of the beasts, and then she had lost sight of him when the other had thrown and pinned her. “He was…over there,” she said pointing. “But I do not see him now. Luthe, where is he?”

            “Gone,” the dark elf replied. “He vanished. I do not know where the gutless coward went.” Luthe went over to where the dragon fighting Scurjal had fallen. Grunting, he rolled the beast over. One of the goblin’s blades was embedded in its chest, but that was not what caught his eye. Seeing something else on the ground, he knelt to touch it. It was a talisman, or so it appeared. There was a large metal disc on heavy pewter chain, with a stylized purple eye on it and runes about it. The dark elf studied it intently, knocking on it with his fingers.

            “What are you doing?” Nari asked. Luthe stared at the amulet.

            “There’s something in here. It’s too thick to be just a necklace.” He placed his fingers on the runic ring around the eye. The dark elf turned it, and the back of the necklace popped open. Several parchments fell out, and Luthe picked them up and began reading the first. He soon tired of this and went on the next one, and began reading. Suddenly his eyes widened, and he let the others fall to the ground. His eyes took on a haunted look.

            “No…” he whispered. “It…makes…no sense.”

            “What?” Carsten asked. “What’s wrong?”

            “This is a…bounty, I think. That goblin was a hunter of men, not animals.”

            Nari stepped up beside him, taking the paper and reading it. “A bounty? I do not speak goblin Pigdyn. What is this for?”

            Carsten looked at the paper, standing on his toes to see it. He suddenly groaned, swaying uneasily. He abruptly felt spent, as though he had no energy left. “Me,” the dwarf whispered. He took two steps forward, but found he could not go further. The dwarf swayed uneasily, feeling a wave of dizzying nausea sweep over him. Nari caught him as he fell back on the snow. His eyes had closed, and he was unresponsive. She put her hand to his forehead and closed her eyes.

            “Out cold. Exhaustion, I think,” she informed Luthe. “If he is really who he says, we should get out of here. The Huntresses will be coming soon, and I do not want to be seen doing this. My father does not know about it, or at least, he does not know my intentions. Then again, neither does he,” she added, gesturing to the fallen dwarf.

            Luthe looked at her and then Carsten’s limp form in the snow. “You should not have gotten so angry at him, you know. He is barely more than a teenager. Also, it is not as though you are not doing the same thing. I think you should have told him about…you know.” Nari shook her head.

            “He deceived us,” she protested. Luthe snorted.

            “And what were we doing again?” He asked. “You were not completely honest with him, were you?”

            Nari glared at him. “That is different.”

Luthe raised an eyebrow. “Is it?” He asked. “You did so for your safety. He understandably acted in similar fashion. He has nothing to apologize for, and you ought not be upset about it. No, lying is not acceptable. At the same time, I understand his reasons-and yours-for doing so.”

Nari scowled. “There is nothing similar there. Now come on. We should go.”

            Ciara shook her head. “Not yet,” she replied. “I speak and read Pigdyn, and we should see who he contracted this bounty with. Otherwise, we could be walking right into their arms.” She took the bounty from Nari, reading it slowly. Her eyebrows scrunched together.

            “I cannot read this name,” she said. “Any-Eny-Oh, never mind. But this contract mentions a location where they were supposed to take him. Frostspire Castle.”

            “Where is that?” Luthe asked.

            “North,” Nari said. “It used to be a fortress of some kind, but no one knows who built it or how. It is an architectural mystery. It does not help that it is ruined now. Some say it was a stronghold for the first inhabitants of this land. But no one knows for sure.” Ciara shrugged.

            “It does not matter who built it. We stay out of that place at all costs,” she said. “But they are behind as well as before now. We should rest tonight and depart in the morning.”

            North

            7 miles away

            Scurjal was running hard, desperate to make the deadline he had set. Or rather, that she had set for him. Getting mixed up in this was probably the last thing he had wanted to do, but he needed the money with seven children in his home and no other form of employment. Call it odd, but most people groups were distrustful of goblins and would not hire them for any form of skilled labor. So, here he was, filling bounties for a living. He made it to the forest shortly after midnight, and he barreled straight for the clearing, heedless of the branches that ripped through his leather outfit and cut his flesh. He made it in record time and collapsed on the icy carpet beneath him, his chest ballooning as he took in gulps of air. He waited for several minutes, his eyes shifting around the clearing uneasily. Then he heard the wind pick up, and a blast of arctic chill sent a veil of white powder up in front of him. As another gust blew it away, he saw her standing there, her white cloak billowing in the night air. She turned to face him, her eyes like twin spears of ice.

            “Well?” She asked. “The dark elf and the dwarf. Where are they?”

            He caught his breath and answered. “Less than two miles, as requested. Alive. Alive, both of them.” She nodded.

            “Does the other one know?” She asked. He shook his head.

            “He is ignorant of your plan, my lady. The leader as well.” She smiled coldly.

            “Good. I shall send out the Whisperers immediately. I want them in my court by tomorrow evening.” Scurjal nodded.

            “Now, the price…” She held out her hand, and sparkling snow crystals swirled in her palm, coalescing into a bag of coins. Flicking her wrist, she tossed it to him.

            “Come,” she said, her eyes softening. “You must be tired.” He nodded.

            “My lady…” he began, hesitating. “The…plan is already in motion. He is moving faster than we expected and has begun gathering materials. His men are so bold now as to leave their campsites behind.” She stared at the goblin.

            “This is disturbing news. Has he sent out raiders yet?” Scurjal nodded. “Then we begin preparations at once. There is no time to waste.”

Author's Note

Feel free to note grammar errors or other flaws in the writing. Positive comments would be appreciated as well.