The Myth of the Ice Queen:
Blood and Ice Wolves
Chapter 6 - The Cunning of Wolves
Despite Muroc's bottle and some lively banter that went on until late the previous night, they were all up early and ready to continue the chase. Feyt had sewn his parka back together well enough.
Aterius even gave him some buttons. Pretty nice buttons as it turned out. Silver! I wonder if they came from his castle. He kept fingering them, feeling self-conscious. They looked out of place on his old coat, but they kept it closed and he needed that.
Today, when Feyt stooped to pick up the large pack again, Seelus took it from him, smiling and said, "My turn, Feyt-bait." He tossed it onto his shoulders and was off, leaving Feyt impressed at how lightly he handled it. They resumed the chase, starting the day's march in the same order as yesterday, except Gairet replaced Seelus as a scout. He waved at Feyt as he trotted off ahead of the rest of them.
The pace Muroc set was brisk, and after a mid-morning meeting with both Gairet and Dokara, he picked the pace up faster. Soon Feyt was thankful Seelus had taken the large pack. Even with his light pack, he was breathing heavy as they jogged along. A light dusting of snow from overnight at first hid their prey's trail. Later however, the new coating of snow began to show every mark the wolves made that day. The tracking became easy.
As the day wore on, the spruce trees grew fewer and further apart, until they left them behind altogether. Only the tough heather and gorse was visible, just barely peeking out from under the snow as far as they could see. Far ahead, the peak of a mountain showed its icy tip. It seemed to float in the sky above the hazy horizon. Here the land was a series of wide flat ridges and narrow gullies, all running parallel and falling gently towards the north. From the tracks, Feyt could see the wolves were running along one ridge heading north, further into the deepening ice and snow.
Near midday, Dokara appeared over a snowdrift and Muroc called a halt. As he sat, Feyt heard Dokara say, "The pack is still running. I wouldn't expect normal wolves to keep running so far, or so hard."
"They're ice wolves. I've never heard them called normal, but I have heard them called unnatural," Muroc's voice grumbled. "They know we're behind them."
"I don't see how. They are too far ahead, and neither I, nor Gairet, have cut any single tracks when we cast out to the sides. Nothing to indicate a lone wolf has swung around to spy on their back trail. They aren't that smart are they?"
"Stories I've heard say they are." Muroc looked about and scratched his beard. "I don't see we have any choice but to keep up. They'll slow sometime."
As Dokara loped back out to continue his scouting duties, Muroc called to the others, "Let's get going. Those wolves are making themselves hard to catch. We don't want them too far ahead." With that, everyone picked up their packs, and the group started off again. Muroc once more set a steady jogging pace with few stops.
Feyt's excitement with chasing wolves was beginning to wear thin from the exertion. He was bone tired, but determined not to give any cause for the others to complain. I am not going to stop until they do.
Feyt plodded on. By late afternoon, even the heather had thinned and shrunk until it was gone. The land flattened until it was just a wavy white and gray sheet of various shades of snow. It stretched out in all directions except ahead to the north. There in the distance, Feyt could make out icy crags. As the day wore on, they were closer and Feyt could begin to make them out in a little more detail.
At one brief stop, Seelus handed Feyt some small snowshoes to strap on. "You'll need these as the snow gets deeper. Know how to use them?" he asked.
"Sure," Feyt responded. "I have a pair for when the winter snows get deep back in Caernall."
"It's always winter from here on to the north. There’s no more bushes now to tangle them in either. We'll make better time." Feyt saw the others were tying on their own snowshoes as well.
As Feyt tied the leather snowshoe straps tight, he asked Aterius, "This land is strange. Where are we?"
"You don't know? Ha. Welcome to the ice sheets my young explorer! This stretches to the sea in the west, and in the north. It reaches the as far to the east as the Ice Mountains. That’s as far as I know any man has gone."
"You mean we're in the tundra? My father disappeared up here."
Frowning, Aterius was sympathetic, "I'm sorry to hear that, Feyt. Many men have been lost out here in the ice sheets. Out here, in a storm, there are no landmarks. No way for a man to keep stock of his direction, or how far he has gone. There is precious little out here to forage for. If you run out of food...," he shrugged. "At least the snow and ice provide water."
"How far does the tundra go ahead? Will we be in it from now on?"
"It extends to the sea. That’s where you can see the rough crags in the distance. And those mountains ahead? They are islands actually. Beyond them... There are only the myths of ice giants and frozen wastes to the end of the earth."
Looking around at the stark and flat terrain, Feyt wondered, "How can we hunt the wolves here? They can see us a mile away, I bet."
Aterius nodded. "True enough. Muroc had hoped to catch them again before now. But they cannot live out here either, so we will follow them to their dens hopefully and kill them there."
"Dens?"
Aterius pointed at the distant peaks ahead. "Somewhere there I imagine. Do not worry Feyt. We have not lost your wolf yet. If we have our way, you will still get your revenge."
"I hope so. I can't let him get away. "
Aterius grew somber. "Muroc won't let them get away if he can help it, either. He also seeks revenge. These wolves, or others like them, savaged the survivors of Anchorfief as they fled the ice. You can ask him sometime, he may be willing to talk about it. Speaking of Muroc, it is time to go. He's moving again."
The party kept up their pace across the tundra until well after dark. That night, Muroc showed them how to cut the ice into blocks and build small rounded shelters with them. They had no fire, but chewed on jerky again for the evening meal.
Muroc walked up and said, “I’ve decided a watch is a good idea tonight. Here in the tundra there are Ice bears." Then he muttered, "And you never know if or when the wolves may turn." Everyone paused and looked at Muroc after his last comment.
He glared at them defensively. “It’s a fact. They could turn. Better safe than sorry,” he added gruffly frowning. He thrust out one of his massive fists holding several little sticks. “We draw straws.”
They all began to choose a stick. On the third pick, Gairet drew the short “straw” for the first watch. “Doesn’t count,” he piped up immediately. “It isn’t a straw. You can’t stick me with a stick.” That made Seelus laugh.
Aterius sighed loudly and complained, “That pun is so bad you deserve the watch all night.”
“I’ll stick you with a large branch on your head,” Muroc retorted. The second watch went to Dokara who simply nodded as if he expected it anyway. Most of the group began to retire straight to their beds.
“I’ll stay up with you, Gairet. At least for a while,” Feyt offered.
“What’s the matter, Feyt? You like bad puns or something?” Tauras snickered as he left for his bed.
“You okay, Feyt?” Gairet asked. ”Aren’t you tired?”
“I’m tired, but I can't sleep. I’ve been thinking of the night my mum and sis died.” My fault the door wasn't barred. My fault... Bitterly he looked up at the stars. The night was clear and the sky was spectacular. The bright stars cut a swath across the sky.
“Glad to have the company,” Gairet smiled widely. His missing tooth left a dark gap in the white teeth. “How’s your head?”
Wincing, Feyt felt where Aterius had stitched up his forehead. It was tender. “Oh, it’s okay. Not too bad.”
“Next time, don’t lead with your face.” Laughing at his own joke, Gairet became as talkative as usual.
After a series of teasing jibes and some bantering, Feyt asked him, "How did you end up with Muroc? You're not a Northman."
"Ah, so you noticed my shaggy brown strands?" His usual grin flashed. "I'm from a little hamlet called Allenspond. It's in Brandshire." When Feyt looked blank, he added, "That's quite a ways east of Caernall, and south. Though not so far south as Aterius's home."
"My father was a soldier in the king's guard. I never knew him well. He was always gone somewhere with the king. I used to dream of all the places my father must have travelled. One day when he was off on another trip far away, I decided I would see even more of the world than he had. So, I up and ran away. I think I was about your age. My mother always told me I was incorrigible, so I guess I showed her she was right."
"You ran away and left your mum alone?" Feyt was incredulous. "What about your duty to provide for her and keep her safe?"
"Ha. Allenspond wasn't like Caernall, Feyt. No, not much anyway. The land is domesticated and farms are everywhere. The king keeps a large troop of guards at all his towns and cities, So it's not like she wasn't safe. And she was already well provided for. She got a stipend from the king on every full moon for being a soldier's woman."
"Farms?" Feyt frowned. "We have farms at Caernall, too."
"Yeah, but Caernall's farms are small. Things barely grow because of the cold up here. In Allenspond, everything is green and warm. There is always plenty of food grown there."
"Green and warm?" Feyt shook his head. "I can't imagine what that must look like. Don't you ever miss home and your mum?"
"Naw. Not much."Gairet shrugged. "See, my mother was really more of a prostitute than a mother. She was technically married to my father, but with him gone all the time, and a town full of other soldiers and guards... Well, let's just say that she got around."
"Oh." Feyt was not sure what to say about that.
Gairet burst out laughing. ”You're funny, Feyt. For a barbarian Northman, you have led a pretty sheltered life. Once I got away from Allenspond, I never looked back. I joined several different armies of dukes and lords. Even tried my hand as a bandit with a bunch who claimed they were revolutionaries. But they were bandits. Most swung from the trees after a few months and I headed north for ‘health’ reasons.” Gairet grinned and rolled his eyes to accent the word ‘health”.
“Then, I ran into Muroc in a tavern in Freebriar. Seems I had offended one of the Freebriar guards over some wench. He and half dozen of his friends were going to show me what happens to smart-alecks who make bad puns when Muroc helped turn the whole bar into a brawl. He said later he only helped because they made him spill his ale when they hit me.”
“Hah ha,” Gairet’s eye twinkled. “But I saw him break his mug over the head of the biggest one there. That’s how his ale really got spilled. Anyway, I decided I liked his ideas of fair play. I also liked how well he handled himself in a brawl. I’ve been with him ever since.”
“You and Muroc were in Freebriar?”
“Yeah. I was thinking of taking service as a soldier, having sworn off banditry. Ha ha ha. Get it? I would have been a bigger bandit as a Freebriar than I was before. Ha ha ha.”
Feyt grinned. It was hard not to have fun with Gairet.
“Muroc was there as a spy for Caernall. He was gathering information on the rumors of a new allegiance with Ergas Holm. He was the one that warned your village leaders about the threat.”
Feyt was surprised. “I didn’t know Muroc did more than fight with the Council at Caernall.”
“Oh yeah. Muroc is a fighter all right. But he’s a good man. A hard man, but good. Caernall gained a lot when Muroc Anchorfief came to town.”
Gairet looked at Feyt sideways. “Got any girls back home, Feyt?”
“Girls? Uh… no. There’s Selice, but she’s not really my girl.” Feyt tried to describe Selice and how she was to Gairet, so he’d understand. After talking about her a while and tell how great she was at everything she did, he finished up with, “She’s the Village Chief’s daughter, though. I’m just another peasant youth, and a One-Godder besides.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Sounds to me like she likes you pretty well, tom-boy or not. She sounds like a determined young lady who knows what she wants. If she spends time with you at all, it’s cause she likes you, Feyt. Take my word for it.” Gairet winked. “I am an expert with women.” They talked then about at least a dozen ladies Gairet had known and been with, until all the names of the gals blurred and blended together in Feyt’s fatigue.
Eventually the conversation and the beautiful stars lulled, Feyt off to sleep. Wrapped in his sleeping pouch he fell asleep sitting up. Gariet kept right on talking after Feyt fell asleep, not noticing he had lost his audience.
The next day, they were on the move again before the sun. The tundra continued relentlessly as they kept the grinding pace Muroc set for them. All day they jogged and walked, then walked and jogged. Slowly the distant mountains got closer. Feyt began to get a feeling for the size of the tundra and how far it stretched.
Finally at the end of the day, Muroc stopped in a deeper than normal swale in the tundra, and again they cut ice blocks and built their little “ice castles” as Gairet laughingly called them.
Feyt looked at the misshapen domes of ice blocks. Hmmmph. Some ice castles.
Despite Muroc's bottle and some lively banter that went on until late the previous night, they were all up early and ready to continue the chase. Feyt had sewn his parka back together well enough.
Aterius even gave him some buttons. Pretty nice buttons as it turned out. Silver! I wonder if they came from his castle. He kept fingering them, feeling self-conscious. They looked out of place on his old coat, but they kept it closed and he needed that.
Today, when Feyt stooped to pick up the large pack again, Seelus took it from him, smiling and said, "My turn, Feyt-bait." He tossed it onto his shoulders and was off, leaving Feyt impressed at how lightly he handled it. They resumed the chase, starting the day's march in the same order as yesterday, except Gairet replaced Seelus as a scout. He waved at Feyt as he trotted off ahead of the rest of them.
The pace Muroc set was brisk, and after a mid-morning meeting with both Gairet and Dokara, he picked the pace up faster. Soon Feyt was thankful Seelus had taken the large pack. Even with his light pack, he was breathing heavy as they jogged along. A light dusting of snow from overnight at first hid their prey's trail. Later however, the new coating of snow began to show every mark the wolves made that day. The tracking became easy.
As the day wore on, the spruce trees grew fewer and further apart, until they left them behind altogether. Only the tough heather and gorse was visible, just barely peeking out from under the snow as far as they could see. Far ahead, the peak of a mountain showed its icy tip. It seemed to float in the sky above the hazy horizon. Here the land was a series of wide flat ridges and narrow gullies, all running parallel and falling gently towards the north. From the tracks, Feyt could see the wolves were running along one ridge heading north, further into the deepening ice and snow.
Near midday, Dokara appeared over a snowdrift and Muroc called a halt. As he sat, Feyt heard Dokara say, "The pack is still running. I wouldn't expect normal wolves to keep running so far, or so hard."
"They're ice wolves. I've never heard them called normal, but I have heard them called unnatural," Muroc's voice grumbled. "They know we're behind them."
"I don't see how. They are too far ahead, and neither I, nor Gairet, have cut any single tracks when we cast out to the sides. Nothing to indicate a lone wolf has swung around to spy on their back trail. They aren't that smart are they?"
"Stories I've heard say they are." Muroc looked about and scratched his beard. "I don't see we have any choice but to keep up. They'll slow sometime."
As Dokara loped back out to continue his scouting duties, Muroc called to the others, "Let's get going. Those wolves are making themselves hard to catch. We don't want them too far ahead." With that, everyone picked up their packs, and the group started off again. Muroc once more set a steady jogging pace with few stops.
Feyt's excitement with chasing wolves was beginning to wear thin from the exertion. He was bone tired, but determined not to give any cause for the others to complain. I am not going to stop until they do.
Feyt plodded on. By late afternoon, even the heather had thinned and shrunk until it was gone. The land flattened until it was just a wavy white and gray sheet of various shades of snow. It stretched out in all directions except ahead to the north. There in the distance, Feyt could make out icy crags. As the day wore on, they were closer and Feyt could begin to make them out in a little more detail.
At one brief stop, Seelus handed Feyt some small snowshoes to strap on. "You'll need these as the snow gets deeper. Know how to use them?" he asked.
"Sure," Feyt responded. "I have a pair for when the winter snows get deep back in Caernall."
"It's always winter from here on to the north. There’s no more bushes now to tangle them in either. We'll make better time." Feyt saw the others were tying on their own snowshoes as well.
As Feyt tied the leather snowshoe straps tight, he asked Aterius, "This land is strange. Where are we?"
"You don't know? Ha. Welcome to the ice sheets my young explorer! This stretches to the sea in the west, and in the north. It reaches the as far to the east as the Ice Mountains. That’s as far as I know any man has gone."
"You mean we're in the tundra? My father disappeared up here."
Frowning, Aterius was sympathetic, "I'm sorry to hear that, Feyt. Many men have been lost out here in the ice sheets. Out here, in a storm, there are no landmarks. No way for a man to keep stock of his direction, or how far he has gone. There is precious little out here to forage for. If you run out of food...," he shrugged. "At least the snow and ice provide water."
"How far does the tundra go ahead? Will we be in it from now on?"
"It extends to the sea. That’s where you can see the rough crags in the distance. And those mountains ahead? They are islands actually. Beyond them... There are only the myths of ice giants and frozen wastes to the end of the earth."
Looking around at the stark and flat terrain, Feyt wondered, "How can we hunt the wolves here? They can see us a mile away, I bet."
Aterius nodded. "True enough. Muroc had hoped to catch them again before now. But they cannot live out here either, so we will follow them to their dens hopefully and kill them there."
"Dens?"
Aterius pointed at the distant peaks ahead. "Somewhere there I imagine. Do not worry Feyt. We have not lost your wolf yet. If we have our way, you will still get your revenge."
"I hope so. I can't let him get away. "
Aterius grew somber. "Muroc won't let them get away if he can help it, either. He also seeks revenge. These wolves, or others like them, savaged the survivors of Anchorfief as they fled the ice. You can ask him sometime, he may be willing to talk about it. Speaking of Muroc, it is time to go. He's moving again."
The party kept up their pace across the tundra until well after dark. That night, Muroc showed them how to cut the ice into blocks and build small rounded shelters with them. They had no fire, but chewed on jerky again for the evening meal.
Muroc walked up and said, “I’ve decided a watch is a good idea tonight. Here in the tundra there are Ice bears." Then he muttered, "And you never know if or when the wolves may turn." Everyone paused and looked at Muroc after his last comment.
He glared at them defensively. “It’s a fact. They could turn. Better safe than sorry,” he added gruffly frowning. He thrust out one of his massive fists holding several little sticks. “We draw straws.”
They all began to choose a stick. On the third pick, Gairet drew the short “straw” for the first watch. “Doesn’t count,” he piped up immediately. “It isn’t a straw. You can’t stick me with a stick.” That made Seelus laugh.
Aterius sighed loudly and complained, “That pun is so bad you deserve the watch all night.”
“I’ll stick you with a large branch on your head,” Muroc retorted. The second watch went to Dokara who simply nodded as if he expected it anyway. Most of the group began to retire straight to their beds.
“I’ll stay up with you, Gairet. At least for a while,” Feyt offered.
“What’s the matter, Feyt? You like bad puns or something?” Tauras snickered as he left for his bed.
“You okay, Feyt?” Gairet asked. ”Aren’t you tired?”
“I’m tired, but I can't sleep. I’ve been thinking of the night my mum and sis died.” My fault the door wasn't barred. My fault... Bitterly he looked up at the stars. The night was clear and the sky was spectacular. The bright stars cut a swath across the sky.
“Glad to have the company,” Gairet smiled widely. His missing tooth left a dark gap in the white teeth. “How’s your head?”
Wincing, Feyt felt where Aterius had stitched up his forehead. It was tender. “Oh, it’s okay. Not too bad.”
“Next time, don’t lead with your face.” Laughing at his own joke, Gairet became as talkative as usual.
After a series of teasing jibes and some bantering, Feyt asked him, "How did you end up with Muroc? You're not a Northman."
"Ah, so you noticed my shaggy brown strands?" His usual grin flashed. "I'm from a little hamlet called Allenspond. It's in Brandshire." When Feyt looked blank, he added, "That's quite a ways east of Caernall, and south. Though not so far south as Aterius's home."
"My father was a soldier in the king's guard. I never knew him well. He was always gone somewhere with the king. I used to dream of all the places my father must have travelled. One day when he was off on another trip far away, I decided I would see even more of the world than he had. So, I up and ran away. I think I was about your age. My mother always told me I was incorrigible, so I guess I showed her she was right."
"You ran away and left your mum alone?" Feyt was incredulous. "What about your duty to provide for her and keep her safe?"
"Ha. Allenspond wasn't like Caernall, Feyt. No, not much anyway. The land is domesticated and farms are everywhere. The king keeps a large troop of guards at all his towns and cities, So it's not like she wasn't safe. And she was already well provided for. She got a stipend from the king on every full moon for being a soldier's woman."
"Farms?" Feyt frowned. "We have farms at Caernall, too."
"Yeah, but Caernall's farms are small. Things barely grow because of the cold up here. In Allenspond, everything is green and warm. There is always plenty of food grown there."
"Green and warm?" Feyt shook his head. "I can't imagine what that must look like. Don't you ever miss home and your mum?"
"Naw. Not much."Gairet shrugged. "See, my mother was really more of a prostitute than a mother. She was technically married to my father, but with him gone all the time, and a town full of other soldiers and guards... Well, let's just say that she got around."
"Oh." Feyt was not sure what to say about that.
Gairet burst out laughing. ”You're funny, Feyt. For a barbarian Northman, you have led a pretty sheltered life. Once I got away from Allenspond, I never looked back. I joined several different armies of dukes and lords. Even tried my hand as a bandit with a bunch who claimed they were revolutionaries. But they were bandits. Most swung from the trees after a few months and I headed north for ‘health’ reasons.” Gairet grinned and rolled his eyes to accent the word ‘health”.
“Then, I ran into Muroc in a tavern in Freebriar. Seems I had offended one of the Freebriar guards over some wench. He and half dozen of his friends were going to show me what happens to smart-alecks who make bad puns when Muroc helped turn the whole bar into a brawl. He said later he only helped because they made him spill his ale when they hit me.”
“Hah ha,” Gairet’s eye twinkled. “But I saw him break his mug over the head of the biggest one there. That’s how his ale really got spilled. Anyway, I decided I liked his ideas of fair play. I also liked how well he handled himself in a brawl. I’ve been with him ever since.”
“You and Muroc were in Freebriar?”
“Yeah. I was thinking of taking service as a soldier, having sworn off banditry. Ha ha ha. Get it? I would have been a bigger bandit as a Freebriar than I was before. Ha ha ha.”
Feyt grinned. It was hard not to have fun with Gairet.
“Muroc was there as a spy for Caernall. He was gathering information on the rumors of a new allegiance with Ergas Holm. He was the one that warned your village leaders about the threat.”
Feyt was surprised. “I didn’t know Muroc did more than fight with the Council at Caernall.”
“Oh yeah. Muroc is a fighter all right. But he’s a good man. A hard man, but good. Caernall gained a lot when Muroc Anchorfief came to town.”
Gairet looked at Feyt sideways. “Got any girls back home, Feyt?”
“Girls? Uh… no. There’s Selice, but she’s not really my girl.” Feyt tried to describe Selice and how she was to Gairet, so he’d understand. After talking about her a while and tell how great she was at everything she did, he finished up with, “She’s the Village Chief’s daughter, though. I’m just another peasant youth, and a One-Godder besides.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Sounds to me like she likes you pretty well, tom-boy or not. She sounds like a determined young lady who knows what she wants. If she spends time with you at all, it’s cause she likes you, Feyt. Take my word for it.” Gairet winked. “I am an expert with women.” They talked then about at least a dozen ladies Gairet had known and been with, until all the names of the gals blurred and blended together in Feyt’s fatigue.
Eventually the conversation and the beautiful stars lulled, Feyt off to sleep. Wrapped in his sleeping pouch he fell asleep sitting up. Gariet kept right on talking after Feyt fell asleep, not noticing he had lost his audience.
The next day, they were on the move again before the sun. The tundra continued relentlessly as they kept the grinding pace Muroc set for them. All day they jogged and walked, then walked and jogged. Slowly the distant mountains got closer. Feyt began to get a feeling for the size of the tundra and how far it stretched.
Finally at the end of the day, Muroc stopped in a deeper than normal swale in the tundra, and again they cut ice blocks and built their little “ice castles” as Gairet laughingly called them.
Feyt looked at the misshapen domes of ice blocks. Hmmmph. Some ice castles.