The Myth of the Ice Queen:
Blood and Ice Wolves
Chapter 7 - The Broken Land
Exhausted, no one bothered to make a fire again even though the wind was blustery. As Aterius pulled his sleeping mat out, he said, "Day after tomorrow, the night will have a full moon. We will not get any light though. The signs still all show a big storm is coming. The clouds will block it. They're already half blocking tonight's moon, see?"
Muroc looked to the north at the mountains they had seen drawing nearer all day. "It's still a long ways to the mountains and real shelter. How bad of a storm do you think it will be?"
"Not good. See the rings around the moon? Lots of ice crystals are forming."
Fuming, Muroc grumbled, "This is a fine fix."
Kneeling by the packs, Feyt nudged Seelus. "Why is Muroc so worried?"
Seelus grimaced, "Ice storms in the open are extremely dangerous. At home, you just go inside for bad weather. Out here, if you are travelling, you can lose your way and go in circles until you freeze. If we dig in, the storm could get so bad that it buries us too deep to dig out and we freeze anyway."
Feyt swallowed. It never occurred to me to worry about the weather. I thought the wolves would be our only problem.
"Tomorrow," Muroc said loudly to all. "We must push even harder than today to reach the mountains before the storm hits. We are going to reach the Broken Land in the morning. We have to cross though that as well. So, go to bed and get your rest. You'll all need it tomorrow." He stomped away to his own little ice castle, kicking the snow clear on the ground at the small entrance he had left. He crawled inside, barely fitting and prepared his bed.
Seelus groaned loudly and headed off towards his backpack. Looking around Feyt saw Aterius nearby. "Hey, Aterius. What's the Broken Land?"
"You will see when we reach it. The ice there is all broken up, in great jumbles. It will be some tough going for a bit, and it can be dangerous because it shifts and is unstable. Now, we draw for first watch," Aterius said as he held out his hand with six straws sticking out. Tentatively Feyt picked one. It was long.
"There are only six straws," Tauras complained as he walked up.
"Muroc took the second watch alone last night. Remember?"
"Yeah. Stop belly aching," Gairet chided him, pushing him out of the way and drawing his straw. "Auch!" He said tossing the short straw over his shoulder. “Short straw again.”
Tauras smiled. His odds had improved with one less short straw. But when he drew a short straw too, he made such a sad face that it amused Gairet immensely. He teased the old sour puss and laughed until Muroc called out from his igloo for him to be quiet. Aterius and Dokara took second watch.
They threw out their sleeping bundles in each of their ice shelters and crawled into them. The twins were eating cold jerky and hard bread as they worked, but Feyt had already eaten his share as quickly as he had gotten it. As hungry as he was, it was delicious. Soon the only sounds Feyt could hear were the smooth breathing of the sleepers, and the wind. Feyt was tired, but his face still stung where Alterius had sewn him up. As he lay there fingering his cut, testing its soreness, his thoughts kept returning to his mother and sister. Particularly Serente.
I promised to take her to the next Equinox gathering down at the river ford. Now she will never see it. He bit his lip. I should not have gone to Equinox that night. I killed them by not being there just as much as the wolf did. If only I had not gone. Slowly, even his guilt couldn't keep his tired body awake, and he slept.
Feyt awoke to Muroc standing over the doorway to his igloo. "Time to go, boy."
He moaned and looked around. It was still dark. Ohhh... Before dawn again. He steeled himself. I am not going to say a word. There is no way he will catch me complaining, he repeated to himself resolutely yet again. He sat up into the chill air as much as he could in the cramped shelter of ice, and started pulling on his parka.
Hearing Feyt's groaning, Muroc said, "We have a long way to go. It's better to start early." He seemed to feel an explanation was needed. He turned away to urge the others out of their sacks.
Even the wind was moaning today. It was more insistent and little flurries of last night's snow swirled past, getting into everything. Feyt pulled out a piece of cold jerky as he packed his bedroll and chewed. Like leather, but leather would be more tasty, he supposed making a face.
"Here." Surprised at the voice, Feyt looked up and found Gairet standing in front of him with his arm extended. "Here, this is some sweetbread I've been saving."
"Sweetbread!"
"Shhh. I've only got a couple of pieces left. Not enough to share. Take it. The sugar will help get you started even if the energy doesn't last."
Feyt's mouth watered, but he said, "If it's your last piece, I don't want to take it."
"Oh, go ahead," he looked at the others putting their packs in order, making sure he was not seen. "It's more than I want this morning and the others have all had some before." He patted his middle. "Besides, I need to keep my boyish figure for the women when we return." His usual grin popped back on his face. "Eat it. Last chance."
Feyt grinned back, and quickly took the gift. Thanking Gairet profusely, he took a bite. As he ate it, dried and crusty as it was, he could not remember tasting anything quite so good. Maybe it was because he was miles from home and had not eaten anything sweet for days. Or, maybe because it was a different sweetbread than he had ever tasted before. Whatever it was, it was delicious and he swallowed the few bites down quickly. Gairet is certainly a generous friend.
Muroc tossed Feyt one of the big backpacks that carried the food. "You only need to carry it half the day, then we'll swap. We're going to have to move fast if we hope to beat the storm."
"Yes sir," Feyt replied and dutifully picked it up. As he hefted it, he could tell it was lighter. We are eating up our food. It will get lighter every day. A thought crept into his mind. I hope we don't run out. Suddenly he actually wished it weighed a little bit more. We still have to eat on the way home.
Soon the group was jogging along at a healthy clip. Today, only Dokara was scouting ahead. Everyone else was jogging along single file, even faster than the day before. The weather was clearly getting worse. Swirls and eddies of ice crystals were sweeping past. The hint of the coming storm spurred them on. The sky to the northeast was dark and foreboding, looking ominous to Feyt.
"At this pace, do you think we'll close the gap on the wolves?" Feyt breathlessly asked Seelus.
"I would think so, but these are not ordinary wolves. You can't bet on it."
"If we get close, we'll have a chance to hit them again though, right?"
"For bait, you're awfully eager," Seelus laughed between puffs. "If this weather gets as nasty as it looks, we're going to be looking out for ourselves instead of wolf hunting."
Feyt frowned. Darn the weather. Is the One God trying to help my wolf escape? It isn't fair to send this storm against us. How could he do that? I am doing this for my mother, and Serente, surely God understands.
Soon though, Feyt forgot everything except picking up his feet and setting them down. The new powdery snow in places was deep enough to drag at his snowshoes making the going harder. Everyone's pace had slowed. God, I am tired. But no matter how tired I get, I am determined I will never complain. I will make sure they never regret bringing me along, he vowed and kept pressing on.
Finally Muroc called for one of the rare and brief stops. Everyone took the opportunity to stretch or sit down on their packs. Feyt dropped his and stretched. As he did, he looked around. They had been walking for miles on a flat expanse of ice, but now the land below dropped providing a good view of the terrain. Shading his eyes, he could see ahead of them where a line broke the smooth rolling white tundra. Beyond the line, the terrain changed dramatically. Rough jagged shapes of ice stuck up and tilted at all angles.
"What's that?" Feyt gazed at the strange shapes.
Seeing Feyt's wondering look, Gairet explained, "That's the Broken Lands."
"Why is it like that?"
"There used to be a sea there, but the ice covered it up. People say the sea god, Neptus, was so angry at his domain being covered that he causes the tides to tear and shove the ice trying to get out. He wars with the Ice Demon."
Aterius wrinkled his dark face and snorted, "A god's work? Hardly. It is just the tides, but here every day they rise and fall over ten feet. It is that alone that has made these shapes."
"That's what I said," Gairet growled. "The god makes the tides do it."
"You and your 'gods'."
"Heathen."
Feyt wondered, What would Aterius think of the One God? Gairet obviously follows the Old Gods. All my new friends have such different opinions of things. I cannot imagine how they ever got together.
Aterius looked at where Muroc stood solemnly a little apart. He leaned closed to Feyt and said in a softer voice, "Anchorfief is down there. Where the land meets the sea."
"Anchorfief?" Feyt had heard of it, but was not sure how much he understood. Just that it had struggled against the Ice before finally succumbing to the relentless winter. He didn't see anything that looked like a city.
"Anchorfief is Muroc’s home in the City of Anchor." Aterius nodded at Muroc's back. "He is not going to be happy travelling here."
Dokara, who had been scouting ahead, appeared without warning and, without a word, took Feyt's large pack. He walked over to Gairet and they spoke briefly. Then, Gairet picked up his javelin and slogged off to take the scout position. Dokara looked at Muroc silently, but said nothing else.
After a bit, Muroc turned around and said gruffly, "Let's go."
More somber and quiet than was usual, the party soon reached the jumbled ice. As they approached, Feyt saw there were timbers and slats of wood sticking out of parts of the ice. As they began to walk between and over the tilted slabs of ice, there was more broken wood all around. Feyt could see the wood had been cut into boards and beams for some reason.
"Aterius," Feyt motioned him closer. The somberness of his companions made him uncomfortable speaking loudly. "Where does all this wood come from?"
Aterius looked sadly around and spread his arms out, palms up. "All this, is the remains of the City of Anchor. Anchorfief is here among the ruins as well."
"This is a City?" Feyt exclaimed softly.
Muroc looked back at them at the sound Feyt's voice.
Aterius stopped walking and shushed him. "I'll tell you later. Tonight," he promised.
"Muroc has ghosts of his own past here," Dokara murmured as he brushed past. "Tread lightly."
They continued moving and were soon past any more evidence of wood. As the group progressed, they climbed over more and more crooked slabs of ice that tilted in every direction. It was hard work clambering along and it slowed their pace considerably. Muroc's grim demeanor cast a cloud over their mood as well, making the work seem all the harder to Feyt.
The jagged ice got worse and worse until the party was jumping between angled slabs and tilted spires. The ice around them creaked and groaned ominously. Aterius reminded them that it rose and fell each day, changing shape with each tide. Gairet claimed the moaning was the sea sprites and nymphs who could not reach the sun. Feyt listened to Aterius argue with him and wondered why the One God was making their journey so tough. Surely, he is a god of justice. That is all I want. Justice.
As the afternoon began to wane, Muroc jumped from one chunk of ice across a deep rift onto a huge tilted slab. As he landed, he swung one of his axes, slamming it into the ice like a pick. But the slab of ice groaned loudly once and began to slowly shift with him on it.
"Stay back," he yelled before any of the others could follow him.
With a sound that started as a low creaking and rose to a grinding roar, the entire slab slipped sideways and fell into a hole as big as Caernall's council building. As the slab fell into the hole, tall spires of ice on each side tilted crazily and collapsed as well. Muroc disappeared into the hole with it in a white cloud of ice crystals.
"Muroc!" Seelus shouted after his disappearing figure. His brother, Dokara, held him back or he may have leapt after him. The silence after the crashing ice was like a heavy blanket.
Everyone stood still in shock. Then Aterius rushed to the edge and yelled out. "Muroc?" Looking down, there was only broken boulders of ice and the settling cloud of ice dust. Nothing else moved. "Muroc?" he called again.
From deep down below, Muroc's voice came back. "Here."
"Are you okay?"
"I need a hand. My leg is caught, and...I am half buried... There is some ice on me."
"Get some rope," Aterius directed. As everyone moved forward, he added, "Stop. Just two of us are going down there. Sometimes the rifts between shards of ice are deep. When the ice collapses like this, it may not be done moving. We will not chance more than two of us getting crushed. Gairet, you're light."
"I'm lighter," Feyt offered.
Aterius stared at him, then nodded. "Okay. I am going down first. You second. You keep the rope around you and do not take it off. Gairet! You and Dokara lower us. If the ice starts moving again, pull him up first. If we are not dead, we can try again. But take no chances," he emphasized his last point strongly. They nodded.
Gairet thrust his javelin deep into a crack in the ice. Wrapping the rope twice around that, Aterius tied it around his waist and backed over the edge. Gairet and Dokar held the rope, lowering him down. When he reached the bottom, the rope wriggled, then went slack.
Gairet pulled it up and said, "Your turn, Feyt."
What have I volunteered for? He wondered. They tied the rope around him quickly and he slid over the edge. Feyt listened to the groaning sounds of the ice as they lowered him. The walls of ice rose ominously on all sides and the sounds of moving ice got louder. He swallowed. It is a lot further down that I expected. His stomach knotted and he began to feel claustrophobic.
When his feet touched the bottom, he looked around. No one was there. "Aterius? Muroc?"
"Here, Feyt." Aterius' voice came from behind a ragged shard of ice.
Bending down, Feyt peered into a gap between two misshapen boulders of ice. He could see them now. Aterius was scraping loose chunks of ice away from Muroc. Muroc, still mostly buried, was helping to push at the pile of chunks with his arms. Feyt scurried forward under the overhanging ice and began to dig as well. The creaking of the ice was not helping his nervous panic at being down here.
Raking the last of the ice away from Muroc's leg, they could finally see where he was pinned in a tight crevasse between two very large pieces of ice. There was some blood, but they could not see how bad his leg was.
"Hold still, Muroc. I'm going to have to chop you out."
"Take your time," Muroc grimaced. "Just hurry as fast as you can."
"You must not be too badly hurt. You're still spouting atrocious jokes." Aterius spoke lightly but he face was grave as he pulled an axe out of his pack.
"An' you're still using your aristocrat's voice on me. I must be ok."
"What can I do?" Feyt interjected. He was feeling useless.
"I'll swing twice, then you scrape and pull away as much ice as you can."
Two swings. Feyt scooped away at the slivers and pieces. Two more swings. He scraped away more. The next two swings and Feyt managed to pull a couple of head-sized chunks of ice out.
"Can you move your leg yet?" Aterius demanded.
Muroc strained and his leg shifted, but he gasped and let it fall back. "Unnng ..That hurts."
"We need more room. Again. Ready, Feyt?"
Feyt nodded and Aterius swung again, and then again. This time he had to start further away from Muroc's leg to keep the blade from sliding along the ice. Around them, the ice suddenly groaned and everything shivered. Shock-still, Feyt stared at Aterius. The sound and the shivering died away.
"You okay?" Someone, Gairet Feyt supposed, called from above.
"Yeah. Almost got him," Aterius said. But then, a new grinding sound began and the ice they were on shook precariously and slipped lower. There were more shouts from above.
"Pull him. Now!" Aterius shouted. Together they heaved as Muroc yelled in pain, but he was out.
Feyt's relief was short lived. The grinding noises continued. Everything was shuddering and a dusting of ice crystals began to rain on them from above.
"Get back out the gap first," Aterius ordered. "You pull and I'll push him out between the boulders there." Together they drug, slid and forced the larger man out under the overhanging ice. Above they could just barely see Gairet leaning over holding the rope. Feyt swallowed. They were deeper now than before and the ice around them was trembling.
Together they pulled Muroc to a standing position. "Can you hold him under the arms while they pull you up?"
"I guess I have too. Sure. I can do it." I hope I can. Muroc is heavy.
“Wrap your arms around him. Ready?” When Feyt nodded Aterius slapped his arm and yelled up at Gairet, "Pull them up. NOW!"
Feyt saw another rope fall on Aterius as he was suddenly jerked skywards. He and Muroc both groaned as the rope cut cruelly into his waist, and his arms felt pulled too hard by Muroc's weight. The blood was roaring in his ears as the men above heaved, and heaved over and over again, to pull them up. Desperately, Feyt kept hold of Muroc. He slipped, and Feyt had to grab a handful of cloth to keep from losing him.
Then suddenly he was over the lip of the ice above. Mercifully, he could let go of Muroc as Gairet pulled them away from the edge. His arms felt leaden and ached. Dokara held him as Gairet and Muroc fell together onto the ground. The roaring that he had thought was all in his ears kept going. He looked back at the edge where Seelus and Tauras were pulling on their rope as hard as they could. Beyond them, more ice was falling into the hole they had just escaped.
A new cloud of white ice dust was swirling all around as a white powdered Aterius popped over the edge and sprawled with Tauras and Seelus.
Bless the One God that was close!