The Long War 02 - The Dark Blood (39 page)

Dead Gorlan, equally grotesque but much smaller than the first, littered the cavern. Several men were missing, but the rest stood guard over empty tunnels and wounded warriors. A few had been bitten and looked pale and close to death. The deep punctures resembled dagger or arrow wounds. At least two hundred of their best warriors were now in the spider cavern and Halla could see the rest of the column clustered in fear at the entrance.

The cave was silent and no more Gorlan appeared. The dead spiders had all curled up into a misshapen caricature of death and they gave off a stink that made the air near them noxious.

‘Come on!’’ prompted Falling Cloud. ‘They’ll attack again.’

Halla wiped sweat and Gorlan blood from her face. ‘Rexel, Heinrich, take the column forward. Move quickly. Wulfrick, you and Oleff are staying with me.’

She waved at the first few ranks of men and they quickly began to usher the others in. Her battle-brothers stood guard either side of the cavern as the common folk of Hammerfall hurried warily across the web-strewn floor to follow Rexel and Heinrich.

‘Anya, go with Falling Cloud.’ The old wise woman was huddled up and keeping as far away from the side tunnels as possible.

The column moved slowly and Halla’s muscles remained taut as she, Wulfrick and Oleff stood over the largest of the spider tunnels. The wounded men were carried with the others. Rexel and Lullaby had now disappeared with the front of the column which, after a few minutes, cast no more than a shadowy globe of light within the ice caverns. Heinrich had gone shortly afterwards.

When the women and children appeared at the cavern entrance and began to step on the web, Halla held her breath. A white spider leg appeared just as the first child began to cross the cavern and Wulfrick’s shouted warning was slightly too late.

‘Get back,’ he roared, as a Ranen child, no older than ten, was grabbed by a large spider that darted silently out of a wall tunnel.

More large spiders emerged and a clicking sound filled the cavern as they began to swarm.

‘Run,’ shouted Halla as dozens of Gorlan the size of dogs flooded into the cavern. Others, even larger, came soon afterwards, followed by multitudes of tiny spiders. She bounded over the ice to where the child had been grabbed and kicked two smaller beasts out of the way. Oleff followed, while Wulfrick covered their exit. The non-combatants began to scream with panic.

‘She said
run
, you deaf bastards,’ repeated Oleff.

The remaining battle-brothers helped the rear of the column into the cavern and shoved them across the ice towards Wulfrick. The Gorlan grabbed an old woman, then a larger one appeared and snared two axe-men, followed by a young man howling in fear as his entire body was covered with tiny spiders.

Men and women died in pain as the Gorlan tore into their unexpected meal. Halla swung her axe in shallow circles, keeping the blade close to her body as she severed legs and crushed bodies. Wulfrick was roaring at the exit to the cave and his guttural howls echoed around as he killed any spider that tried to cut off their escape.

More men died as the last few ranks encountered a carpet of poisonous Gorlan, and those in front had to fight desperately to reach Wulfrick and get out alive.

‘Halla, time to go,’ grunted Oleff from her left. ‘We’re getting overrun.’ His words accompanied the last man to enter the cavern. Halla turned to leave and saw Oleff suddenly pinned to the ground by a single large spider. Hard Head shouted in anger as he wrestled with the bulbous, white beast, but he couldn’t get any leverage to hit it with his axe. Halla sprang across and kicked it solidly in the eyes, allowing Oleff to stand, just as two huge fangs protruded from the axe-maiden’s shoulder.

She gave a sharp and strangled cry. The Gorlan that had bitten her had wrapped its legs round her torso, pulling her backwards.

‘No fucking spider kills that lady.’ The voice seemed to Halla to come from far away, and all she could feel as she slipped into unconsciousness was a burning pain as the Gorlan venom paralysed her.

* * *

Halla woke in pain and couldn’t feel her limbs. She was cold, but she was alive. Her eyes were not focusing well and she had no idea where she was or what the shapes above her might be. She remembered the Gorlan and she remembered the bite. The pain in her chest was a reminder of the creature’s fangs and the numbness in her head was a reminder of its venom.

‘Wulfrick, her eyes are open,’ said an indistinct voice next to her.

Her vision darkened and she felt the towering presence of the axe-master loom over her.

‘I can’t feel my arms or legs,’ she muttered through a raw and scratchy throat. ‘And I can’t see.’

‘You’re alive, my Lady Summer Wolf,’ was Wulfrick’s response. ‘Vision is overrated anyway and young Falling Cloud here is eager to act as your arms and legs.’

‘It’s true,’ said Rexel. ‘You’re not as heavy as I thought.’

‘Where are we?’ she murmured. ‘Are we safe... are we clear of the caverns?’

‘Can you not see the sky?’ asked Falling Cloud, though Halla still couldn’t make out his face.

‘Give it time,’ said Wulfrick, more gently this time. ‘Heinrich and Lullaby say you’ll be up and shouting at us all in a few days.’

‘The spiders... how many of us survived?’ Halla thought she could still see the bloated white beasts. Their noxious stench would stay with her for a long time to come.

There was no response for a moment and she could sense that Wulfrick and Falling Cloud were communicating something wordlessly above her. Lullaby had told her that many would die in the ice caverns, but she still hoped that the majority of her company had made it out alive.

‘A hundred and fifty are still in the spider caverns,’ replied Falling Cloud in a quiet and matter-of-fact tone. ‘Maybe one or two stragglers will still come out, but most of them are dead.’

‘But there’s some good news too,’ said Wulfrick quickly. ‘We’re past the Bear’s Mouth and will likely sight Jarvik in a day or two.’

CHAPTER 3

He was deeply relieved to sight the city of Summer Wolf. The journey had been hard, cold and even life-threatening on several occasions. After their encounter with the troll, Alahan had come to believe that the beasts of Fjorlan were more active than normal, perhaps sharing the pain of Rowanoco’s land under the yoke of a betrayer.

Timon the Butcher, Alahan’s strange companion, had become no more talkative and refused to be drawn as to how and why he’d managed to get a hug from one of the Ice Men of Rowanoco. Even the strange crystals he kept in the pouch at his belt were off limits, and Alahan had ceased to ask what the pouch contained.

‘Will I be welcome in a city of men?’ asked the Low Kast berserker as they approached the tall, stone monolith of Tiergarten. ‘I don’t want to frighten anyone.’

Alahan looked at Timon and smiled. The berserker had once again bound his huge, misshapen head in leather so that he looked strange rather than monstrous. ‘You’ll be fine, friend. I’ll slap anyone that gives you a second glance,’ he replied.

‘You’d do that for me, friend Alahan?’ Timon’s mouth was twisted in an odd caricature of a smile. His eyes showed childish glee at having found a friend who would stick up for him. Once again, Alahan was glad he had the berserker as a companion.

‘You’re my only friend in the world, my dear Timon,’ replied the young thain, ‘though I might be able to find another one or two in Tiergarten.’

The man of the Low Kast grinned again and lengthened his stride, almost skipping along the snowy path towards the city. The city of Summer Wolf was the oldest in Fjorlan, probably in Ranen and possibly in the entire lands of men. It was made primarily of stone, built into the side of the mountain and constructed with height in mind. The low harbours were smaller than those of Alahan’s home city of Fredericksand, but still spread right across three low inlets, though they were currently devoid of any dragon ships.

From the slowly rolling Fjorlan Sea, across a plain of ice and snow, the city followed the natural curve of the rocky cliffs. The thick stone walls had supposedly been built by the first Ranen of Fjorlan. The city grew larger as the cliffs levelled out, with the top stone platform housing the hall of Summer Wolf and the chapel of Rowanoco. Alahan could see the Steps of Kalall, a wide staircase that intersected all the levels and gave access to all areas of Tiergarten, despite the city’s vertical design. At the very top was Oreck’s Spire, the fortified watchtower that looked out over the seemingly endless southern plains of Summer Wolf.

‘It looks like a mountain,’ observed Timon. ‘Was it built by men?’

‘Supposedly,’ replied Alahan, ‘though my uncle used to say it was put there by the last of the Ice Giants as a gift for the men of Ranen.’

‘Varorg is a most generous father.’ Timon’s response was delivered with deep sincerity.

‘Let’s hope his generosity extends to helping a displaced high thain,’ replied Alahan, playfully making light of his friend’s piety.

They were still a good way ahead of Kalag Ursa and the forces sent out by his father, and Alahan hoped there were still enough battle-brothers in Tiergarten to repulse an attack. He wasn’t sure how many men were pursuing them, but he knew the men of Jarvik well enough to think they would have sent a significant force after Algenon Teardrop’s son – likely enough to assault any place that he might seek refuge.

He didn’t know what state the city would be in, whether the loss of the dragon fleet had completely crippled it or whether there remained an axe-master to lead the people. Either way, old Father Brindon Crowe, the priest of the Order of the Hammer, was the best place to start. The old man of Tiergarten had not been with the fleet and he would surely have taken charge and locked down the city when he heard about Rulag the Betrayer’s actions.

No one travelled the north–south road that led along the coast. Indeed, Alahan had not seen another man since he was assaulted by Ursa’s men almost a month before. The lands of Fjorlan did not lend themselves to easy travel, but it was still surprising that no one should be abroad in the realm of Summer Wolf. If old Father Crowe had called the common folk back to Tiergarten, Alahan was sure that they would prove loyal to the house of Teardrop and not willingly submit to Rulag and his loathsome son.

‘They’ll have watchers up on the cliff face,’ he said to Timon, as they reached the flattest part of the trail that led straight to the northern gates of Tiergarten.

They were now exposed against the white background of Fjorlan and no cover was readily at hand. Alahan had no grand delusions about sneaking up on the city, but he felt slightly foolish marching absently along the road when he knew so many men would be pursuing him.

‘Should I signal to them?’ asked the Low Kast berserker. ‘So they don’t think we’re hostile.’

‘We’re not exactly an army. I’m sure they won’t be too worried about a frontal assault.’ Alahan shielded his eyes from the glare and scanned the cliff face above them. He could not see any people, but if there were any, they would surely be hidden from view.

He slowed his pace, allowing anyone above to see them clearly as they progressed along the low coastline towards the flat plain and the lowest level of Tiergarten. The gates were closed, and ballistae mounted either side of the entrance covered a large area of the snowy plain. If an army were to assault, the people of Tiergarten would have plenty of warning and had ample reason to think they could hold out indefinitely.

Alahan was impressed as the stone city came into clear view. The outer buildings were all of stone and of odd, irregular design. The wooden habitations closer to the middle of each level were Ranen halls of thatch, each crested with the city’s heraldry – a howling wolf against a rising sun. The Steps of Kalall were identifiable and Alahan saw tiny figures moving up and down. The city was far from deserted, even if it was locked down and isolated.

‘Ho there,’ shouted a voice from above the solid wooden gates.

The entranceway was the only part of the lowest level that was not made of stone. The gates were braced with immense steel struts and the wood itself looked thicker than the largest trees.

‘Who approaches?’ shouted the voice.

‘A friend of Tiergarten,’ replied Alahan. ‘I seek Father Brindon Crowe.’

As the guard spoke quietly to someone behind him, the two companions reached the foot of the gates and came to a halt. ‘Who are you? And who’s your friend?’ The voice was wary, but not hostile.

Alahan craned his neck and spoke quietly to Timon. ‘Their reaction to what I’m about to say will tell us whether we have friends here or not,’ he said with a wry smile.

‘My name is Alahan Teardrop Algesson, high thain of Fjorlan and heir to the hall of Fredericksand.’

There was silence from above and the young Ranen disappeared behind the battlements. Whispered words could be heard from the walls. Alahan heard someone say, ‘Go and get Ice Fang, he’ll want to see this guy.’

‘Wait... you below, wait,’ said the young voice from above, though the man remained out of view.