Myth of the Ice Queen:
Book One - Blood and Ice Wolves
Chapter 2 - Ice Wolves
Feyt sat up quietly, listening. Serente’s gentle snore was easy to make out. He stayed still until his sharp ears made out the soft shallow breaths of his mother, confirming she slept. Good. Now’s the time. He eased from under the blankets, fully clothed.
Picking up his boots and parka, he climbed down from the loft, careful to avoid making any noise. Feyt tiptoed to the door. The small flames in the embers of the fireplace provided a scant flickering light. He pulled on his boots and slid into his coat. As he did, his arm hit his long-knife, rattling it where it hung on the wall by the door. Freezing, he listened tensely.
His mother made a soft moan and rolled over. Her steady breathing resumed. Feyt exhaled, realizing he’d held his breath. With great care, he lifted the worn wooden bar that kept the door secure at night. Slipping out, he eased the door shut.
The bar won’t be latched, but I’ll only be gone a couple of hours. Mum won't even notice. Outside, his breath steamed, and the chill nipped his ears. He hurried towards the village wall, buttoning his coat. The wall’s poles, shaved bare of bark, were slippery, hard to climb, but Feyt padded to where earth was piled high against the inside of the wall. This was done to provide access to the wooden walkway along the top of the wall for the sentries, though there were none tonight. That’s good, but odd. I expected to have to sneak past them.
On the wall’s other side, the ground was lower, dropping almost twice his height. Someone, probably the other celebrants, had left a knotted rope dangling down the outside of the wall. Feyt smiled. I’ll need that to get back in. Though there will likely be dozens of places with ropes where the other youths had climbed down.
Halfway to the ford Feyt could hear the kids celebration. His eyes caught the sheen of bonfires silhouetting the trees ahead, lighting the treetops beyond. A drum’s throbbing beat and attempts at singing echoed. Laughter and catcalls punctuated the sounds of the crowd. There are lots of younglings here already.
Feyt walked out of the trees onto the sand bar at the ford. As he approached the first fire squinting against its light, Jolen and Selise bounced up out of the glare.
“We saw you coming,” Jolen said, his arms were full of sweetmeats. Tonight, he looked smaller than usual in his father's parka. As usual Jolen’s sloppy hair was dangling half braided. Feyt pretended not to notice, but could not resist feeling his own braid again. Good, still woven tight. Perfectly the same as anyone else’s, except Jolen’s.
Chewing on a pastry herself, Selise waved. Feyt watched her in the firelight as she approached. Selise was different. She only wore boy’s clothes and spent all her free time hunting. She was high-born, the only child of the village chieftain, Swornson. He’d always wanted a son. Four wives later, there still weren’t any. Her real name was Selisane, but she’d soundly beaten the last boy who called her that. Tougher than most boys, she was a deadly shot with the fine recurved bow her doting father had given her. Selise wasn’t like any of the other girls, and Feyt liked her just fine as she was.
Just last season, she’d started cutting her hair so short only a stubby inch of braid stuck straight out behind her. Although it still shocked Feyt a bit, once he got over the worst of it, he decided he liked her defiance. Feyt always tried hard to look and dress perfect to blend in. My mum makes our family stand out more than enough all by herself alone; but Selice doesn’t care about being different. She’s a rebel. Feyt thought. I guess that shows what she thinks of the general village and its gossips’ opinions. I don’t know how her father puts up with it though.
Seeing Feyt’s gaze, Selise reddened and looked away. Realizing he had been caught staring, Feyt turned his head, feeling the heat of his own blush. She’s a good friend, and I’m glad for that; but no matter what fancy I may take, she’s high-born.
Selise broke the tension cautiously at first. “Some hunters saw a herd of caribou half a day north. That would be great to bring one down!” Her excitement about hunting soon got rid of any remaining embarrassment. “Think of the meat." She pantomimed shooting her bow and grinned.
"Caribou?" Feyt exclaimed. "They’re hard to find. I'd love to bag one."
“Kathan and some of the others are over at that other fire over there,” Selise gestured. “Let’s go talk them into a hunt."
"Hey, Feyt. Want some sweets? They’re from Ferrin’s dad's bakery," Jolen managed through a mouthful. Remnants of earlier delicacies smeared his mouth. His family’s so poor, he must feel he's found heaven. Though I rarely get any of these myself either.
“Sure." Taking one he bit down. A sharp berry-flavor filled his mouth, more tart than sweet. "Mmmmm, good."
Behind Jolen, three shadowy forms approached against the firelight.
Feyt groaned. Great. Ajax and his friends. Just because his dad’s captain of the guard, he thinks he’s in charge of everyone. He’s more like me than he likes to admit. He’s not even high-born.
"You, Jolen. Hold up," Ajax demanded as he swaggered over with Billow and Markan in tow. The three large boys moved in, towering over Jolen’s slight frame.
"What are you doing here, milk-sop?" Ajax's breath stank of sour mead.
"Yeah. You aren't welcome," Billow spat the words out, shoving Jolen in the chest.
Jolen backed up several steps unsteadily and dropped a couple of his precious sweets. He swallowed his last bite of pastry hard. “N-Nothing, Ajax. Just hanging out.”
Carelessly Feyt dropped his sweetbread into the dirt and stepped next to Jolen, facing Ajax. “Hey. There are no rules against hanging out." A rustle told him Selise had moved up behind him, taking a position close to Jolen. Feyt felt a little more secure.
"There is for the likes of him. What’s it to you, one-godder?" Ajax pushed forward, scowling. "You and your south-trash family don't belong in Caernall. We got too many refugees already."
“Better not let any of the Anchofiel’s hear you calling them refugees.”
“You think I’m worried about them? They don’t even have a place on the council. Just more low born trash, like you, Feyt.”
He’s looking for a fight. Feyt's face burned with anger. Good thing Mum’s not here. She’d start in about the One-God's teaching. Turn the other cheek? Well…Okay, here goes, Mum. One try… then I’ll wipe that smirk off his face.
Feyt clenched one fist behind his body. His other hand up, palm open deferentially, he tried a soft answer. "We were just going to another fire."
Making a face, Ajax raised a hand to jab a finger at Feyt and opened his mouth...
"Hi, Ajax. " the sudden feminine interruption stopped him. Melocidy and three girls walked up, swishing their embroidered high-born cloaks. Selise frowned darkly at them. Ajax and his pals, however, smiled widely and turned their attention to the girls.
"Anything to drink?" Melocidy, acting coy, asked Ajax. She gave Feyt an appraising gaze that turned condescending when she saw his peasant clothing. Her look dismissed him.
High-born, what do I expect? Feyt shrugged it off. She doesn’t even know my name, though I’ve known her for years.
As the girls crowded around Ajax and his friends, Feyt backed away, pushing Jolen and Selise behind him. Feyt took advantage of Ajax’s focus on the girls. "Move," he urged, herding Jolen and Selise ahead of him.
Behind them, Ajax called, "Yeah, Feyt. Find another bonfire. This one’s for me and my friends. I don’t want to see you back here. You hear?"
Showing off for the girls, Feyt thought. He waved his hand derogatorily, but kept moving.
Selise leaned close and giggled, "That was close. You almost got into another of your famous fights."
"Yeah. Thanks for the support. I don’t need another reprimand about fighting, that’s for sure.”
“No problem. He’s an idiot.” She glared back behind them.
“Hah. You’ve got that right.”
“Thanks, Feyt. Have another,” Jolen interrupted, handing him another pastry.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Taking it, Feyt grinned. “Let’s move over a couple of fires at least.”
Selise laughed. "Good idea. Kathan’s over there with Tenyt and some of the others.” She pointed. Following behind them, Jolen was already eating again and trying not to drop his treasures.
Feyt whispered to Selice, “I don’t know how Jolen does it. I really envy his ability to let all the insults and bullying he gets go so easily.”
“He’s not got much choice, Feyt, not like us.”
I’m not sure I have much choice either. One-godder and half-breed foreigner. The village tolerates me and my family, but only because I hunt all the time and we’re not a burden. The kids reflect their parents opinions of us. None of the kids ever really give Selice much trouble since she’s high-born and her father is the Chief. Usually her peer problems result with the other kids’ parent giving them a whipping and occasionally sending a formal apology to her father for their child’s misbehavior.
As they walked up, Kathan waived. “H-H-Hi, F-F-Feyt”. The blacksmith's oversized son stuttered badly, but at fifteen, he was six and a half feet tall and all muscle from pounding iron at the forge all day. Not even Ajax dared pick on him about it.
Tenyt butted in and asked Feyt excitedly, "Did you see the sunset? It was an omen! The gods were speaking. Writing it in blood."
"I only believe in one god, Tenyt. Remember?"
"Your mother's god?” He sneered. “Your father brought her from the south. If her god is anywhere, it is way down there. Not here with us and our gods.”
“One God, for the whole world, Tenyt. Besides, a god can be wherever it likes.” Feyt did not want to argue in front of the others.
Tenyt refused to be dissuaded. “Your mother’s foolish to think there’s only one god. It takes many gods to run the world. Everyone knows that. Everyone worships the Old Gods. Like Argus, the god of war. Or Jehas, god of the harvest. He's why we celebrate the Equinoxes."
"So, if the gods were talking, which one was speaking at sunset?” Doyt Ramsgalt cut in. "Oh. I know. They were all writing at once, that's why the sunset got smeared." Laughter erupted. Most younglings feigned indifference and disbelief in the gods, at least to each other, so Tenyt was not getting much support.
Feyt smiled, but did not join in. No sense continuing to argue, but I am sure one god makes more sense than dozens. Making a face, Tenyt threw his hands up and turned away causing hoots and laughter. Soon the talk turned to Freebriar and the looming rumor of war.
“Freebriar is not a threat,” Feyt contended. “That bunch makes better thieves than soldiers.”
“They’re better armed now,” Selise insisted. “That makes a difference. Ergas Holm is supplying the weapons and, unlike the Freebriars, they aren’t interested in a few stolen coins or oxen anymore.”
“They’re taking scalps with braids,” someone whispered solemnly. The barbarity of that silenced everyone briefly.
In the silence, Feyt heard something. Is that a dog howling? But another sound cut in, a metallic clanging.
"Stop!" Feyt interrupted Selise’s listing of Freebriar’s allies. "Listen! It's the alarm gongs! They are beating the alarms! Something’s wrong!" Their small group began looking around in every direction, fear in their eyes.
"A night raid?" Selise exclaimed. "Do you think the village is being attacked? Is it war?"
"A-attacked? I b-b-better get home," Kathan managed.
“Your dad’s blacksmith shop is all the way over by the main gate. Can you get there?” Selise was worried.
"D-don’t-t know. I g-gotta g-go," he choked out before turning and charging away. Tenyt and some others followed him. Around them people were milling about confused.
More howls and shrieks sounded in the distance. He felt a shiver of fear go down his back. Wolves! The ever-growing ice has pushed wolf packs to attack before, but only single hunters or small groups of people outside the village walls. And we are outside the walls!
He felt for and found his small-knife on his belt. Curse it! I never should have left my long-knife at home. This knife isn’t much, but it’s all I have. I hope I don't need it.
“Are those the village dogs?” Jolen asked still unaware of the seriousness of the situation.
"Wolves! Come on. We have to get back inside. Stay together.” Feeling panic, Feyt pushed past the youths clustered at the fire and started running. A few others followed seemingly unsure of what to do, but many others congregated around the safety of the fires. As they ran, Selise and Jolen fell behind, unable to keep up. Feyt slowed his pace in spite of his urgency. He didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t leave them behind out here, but he had to get home.
Finally, when Feyt reached the log wall, all the ropes were gone. He looked about desperately. Selise and Jolen ran up gasping and stared at the wall. The top was out of reach. Back behind him in the shadows, he saw several other younglings running up from the river towards them in the half-moon’s light.
"What are we going to do?" Jolen asked fearfully.
"I’m not sure.” Feyt wracked his brain. “Wait! Selise, come here. Jolen's lightest. We’ll grab his legs and lift. Jolen, when we lift you, grab the top of the wall and climb over. Find a rope and throw it to us. Got it?"
"Y-yeah. Sure," Jolen sputtered.
Together, spurred by adrenaline, they heaved Jolen's slight weight up so fast he fairly flew, scrambling over the top.
"Hey. All the ropes are up here. Someone pulled them up on purpose." Jolen tossed the ends of the ropes over the wall and they uncoiled down to where they could be reached. Suddenly, back at the ford, they heard new a burst of blood curdling howls followed by screaming.
"What...?" Selise started back.
"No!" Feyt stopped her.
"But some of our friends are back there!"
"I know it sounds heartless, but we can't help without weapons. If they are in serious trouble, we’ll just get ourselves killed too. Up the rope. Quick. If those are wolves like we think, they could be here any minute."
"Whoever heard of wolves attacking a whole village?" Selise sounded incredulous, but she didn’t need further encouragement. She shot up the rope as Feyt struggled up behind her. When they reached the top of the wall, they heard howling and screaming from both directions. Behind them the other small group of youths had just reached the wall and were starting up the ropes they left hanging.
"Oh, God. Some of that’s coming from where our homes are." Feyt jumped off the wall with Selise behind him. Jolen was already ahead, running toward the first huts. He must have started off right after tossing them the ropes. Ahead, on and along the path, Feyt could see confused people talking in groups, and holding torches over their heads. Others were coming out of the huts still wiping sleep from their eyes.
Feyt sprinted into the lead again. Behind him, Selise called, "Your home?"
"And Jolen's. Straight ahead." Feyt gritted his teeth. I left the door unbarred! He felt a cold fear in his guts as he ran weaving through the crowd. Oh One-God, please. I'll do my penances and say my prayers forever. I swear, just please keep them safe.
As they ran up the icy path between huts, the number of people kept increasing. Now everyone seemed to be in Feyt's way. He pushed through the growing crowd with Selice and Jolen behind him. The closer he got to home, the more panicked and fearful people were everywhere. Feyt heard someone scream, “The wolves are setting fires.”
That's ridiculous. How can wolves be lighting fires? It was hard to hear over the tumult.
"How much farther?” Selise shouted in his ear.
Before he could answer, Jolen yelled back, "Right over there!"
Approaching his home, Feyt could see several huts surrounding his were on fire with folks trying to smother or douse the flames. Swirling smoke stung his eyes. He smelled burning hair as well as wood. Furs, he hoped. Most people were fighting the fires. Others held weapons, looking fearfully about. Feyt turned and weaved through the people towards his house, but Jolen continued towards his own hut.
As he neared his home, Feyt saw the door wide open. It was dark inside.
No. No. Please. No.
He grabbed a burning torch out of the hands of a man as he ran by. Ignoring the angry yell behind him, he sprinted for his gaping door. My long-knife is just inside the door on the wall. Feyt reached the door, thrust the burning brand into the open doorway, and recoiled in shock. The dim light revealed a wolf as big as a man standing over the still form of his mother.
“No!” he screamed. Fumbling with his left hand, Feyt felt blindly beside the door where his long-knife should be.
The wolf's jaws dripped with blood. Whose blood? he wondered. Crouching, it snarled at him with eyes reflecting the glow of the torch.
"Yah. Get back. Yah." He swung the torch back and forth. His fingers desperately kept feeling for the knife.
It took a slow step towards him, indecisive. He felt a deep panic. Cold fear made his guts cramp. Everything was unreal. The alarm gongs outside were pounding into his head. Screaming from behind him sounded too loud. He realized it was Selise. One-God! She doesn’t have a real weapon either.
Suddenly deciding, the wolf moved forward, eagerly. At that second, Feyt’s hand closed around the hilt of the hanging long-knife. Swinging the burning torch, he let it fly at the advancing wolf. It recoiled, flinching. Fumbling, he couldn’t pull the knife off the peg. Oh, no! Then, it came loose! He thrust it out in front of him. Oh, good God, it's still in its sheath!
Out of time, he swung it with all his might as the wolf leapt. The long-knife, sheath and all, bashed the wolf across its face deflecting its jaws full of razor teeth to the side. The collision jarred his arm, numbing his left hand. He fell in the same direction as the wolf and they both rose together in a scramble.
The snarling wolf was all teeth and glowing eyes. Clumsily, Feyt pulled at the sheath, but now it wouldn’t come off. Switching to his numbed hand, he grabbed the end of the sheath and swung the short-sword backhanded with all his strength as the wolf leaped for him.
felt a flash of relief as the sheath finally came off. His weapon slammed into the side of the wolf's head, slashing it severely across its right eye. Its huge paws bowled Feyt over, tearing at him, knocking him down and back. Teeth missed his throat by inches. Howling in pain and fury, the beast careened off the doorpost… and was gone.
Struggling to his feet in the doorway, Feyt felt blood streaming down his cheek. He faced outwards, long-knife ready, but the wolf bounded away, howling as it went, snapping at people who swung at it with staves or weapons.
Thank God, he exhaled.
Wait! Are there more wolves? He whirled, facing back into his home. By the flickering light from the feebly burning torch and a few coals in the dying hearth, he could dimly see. The room was empty of wolves. He staggered with relief and gasped. His arm and shoulder ached. Dazed, his eyes stared about the room until they focused on his mother's body. As he rushed towards her, she moved slightly, moaning in pain.
"Mum!" He grasped her to him. "Oh, God. Mum. Where are you hurt?" Oh, no. Oh, there is so much blood. I can't see! It's too dark! "Mum? Mum? Can you hear me?"
"Feyt..."
"Oh, Mum. I’m so sorry. I should have been here. I should have..." He saw her neck where the wolf had bitten. Shuddering, he pressed a hand there to hold back the blood. He began to sob. "I can't stop the blood. Oh, Mum. I can't stop it."
"Shush... Feyt... stop. I don't have much time."
"No! Mum! You’re going to be all right. I'll get the healer. I'll get help..."
"No, Feyt." Her voice was a harsh whisper. "Listen. Emannis... your father... He had something... I was... to give you... The wolf came for it... The wolf... spoke to me, Feyt... Black... sorcery... "
Crazy talk. She’s dying. "Mum. Please, lie still. I'll get help," he sobbed. "I didn't mean to cause this."
"Feyt..." Her voice was barely a soft whisper. "Fireplace... in the middle of…," she choked, coughing blood. "… the bottom left side... is a loose stone...." She gasped in pain. "A box... medallion... from your father..." Her breath rasped liquidly. "Terribly... important to him... and... his father... before him."
"Serente! Mum, where is Serente? Serente!" Feyt called desperately.
"Dead... “
choked. No! Not Serente. Not her. Oh, please, One-God, this can’t be real! Please! Let me be dreaming.
“The wolf... killed her... first...to make me... tell." She moaned, struggling weakly. "I... would never...tell...a demon... anything..." A horrible gurgling sound emanated from her throat.
"Oh, Mum. I’m so sorry. Please, don't die... Please..."
"Love you... Feyt... Love... "
He felt her passing. Her frail body trembled and shook. Then, she was still. So still...
Feyt looked up towards the old, faded red door. Selise stood there wide-eyed, staring at them where they lay together on the floor. Tears streamed down her face.
"It's all my fault they're dead. I left them alone. I left the door unbarred. If I hadn’t snuck off, I could have... I could have protected them… I..."
Feyt pulled his mother's body close and, outside, his cries of anguish echoed in the smoke of the torches.