Myth of the Ice Queen:
Book One - Blood and Ice Wolves
Chapter 1 - EQUINOX
"The Ice Queen's heart is made of ice,
frozen in stone by eternal night..."
a child's fairytale chant in Caernall
Feyt slipped the hunting pack off his shoulders and hung it and the day's catch of two snow-hares on the side of the hut. The large rabbits were each several pounds of meat for the dinner table. He had already skinned them and here, outside in the cold, the exposed meat would keep as long as needed. His breath steamed as he untied their pelts from the pack to take in to his mother. He walked towards the front of the small shelter. The hut faced a snow-packed path like all the others in this part of the village. There were no fancy cobblestones in this part of town. Thin wisps of wood smoke wafted out of chimneys in many of the white roofs adding its smell to the bite of the crisp air. A scattering of other peasants were coming and going about their business, their chatter disturbing the silence fresh snow usually brought.
Overhead, the setting sun cast red smears across the half-clouded sky, reflecting from the snow and ice to give the world an eerie tint. Like blood, Feyt thought. Shaking his head, he smiled wryly thinking of Tenyt. The son of the village’s head priest was always trying to prove how holy he was. Tenyt was sure to be talking about omens at the fall Equinox celebration tonight.
Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Feyt saw Jolen hurrying up the road with an armload of wood. Jolen Musserman's thin smallish frame looked funny bundled in his father's parka. Feyt knew times were hard for them and Jolen was glad to have his dad's old coat to wear. He is sixteen like me, but doesn't look it. He’d almost died from a sickness a few seasons back. Some of the less kind kids said it would have been better for him if he had. Weak and gentle, he was picked on a lot. Seeing Jolen’s long blond hair only half braided, Feyt snorted. Sloppy as usual. He self-consciously felt his own yellow braid to make sure it was still tightly woven. Finding it was, he sighed with relief. It’s important to look right or I’ll get singled out too.
Jolen saw him and, freeing an arm, waved. This caused his load of kindling to wobble precariously. Grinning, Feyt waved back. He always tried to be nice to Jolen, though many of the other youths were not. As Jolen trudged along stumbling with his load, Feyt watched idly, thinking eagerly of tonight’s gathering of the youths.
Tonight was the Equinox and, after the religious ceremonies at the Lodgehouse, most of the adults would be celebrating - eating and, especially, drinking. While they were busy, the youths would be doing their own celebrating outside the village walls, down by the ford at the river. Mostly just talk and games, and boys would be flirting with girls. It was a chance for him to spend some time with Selise without everyone noticing or the Elders frowning. Then too, at some point tonight they would start the rousing war-chants or adventure songs and it would get lively. Feyt knew there would be plenty of smuggled weak-mead and beer for everyone that the adults would be too drunk to miss. Moreover, there would be lots food, especially sweetmeats.
Equinox already! He shook his head. Though fall was just about to start, winter already had its grip on the land. The half-frozen River Setzin flowed sluggishly here by the village of Caernall. The river’s slow meandering left a large flat sand bar under the pine and bare oak trees at the ford. There, the trees shielded the ford from the village and allowed the youths to get rowdy unobserved. Feyt was looking forward to it. Even if Tenyt did start spouting portents. The river was threatening to freeze over completely already this year. And the ice would get even thicker by the coldest days of winter. The Ice is coming, he grimaced as he repeated the common saying. He remembered last year’s days of forced inactivity. Each year the winter gets harder. It has been this way my whole life. There is always more talk of relocating the village once winter truly starts. The talk never went far. Folks are too traditionally tied to this place, he thought.
Stomping his feet and shaking the dusting of ice crystals off his shoulders, Feyt entered through the old wooden door. It was painted red for luck. Many of the huts had red doors on this side of the village. It was a kind of status and a good luck charm here in the poorer parts of Caernall. Not that mum believes in luck. Just the One-God. Inside, Feyt saw his younger sister, Serente, helping his mother with the evening meal. She was dressed just right with her braid coiled neatly into a bun on the back of her head. Nothing to make her stand out, he approved. As he stepped inside, the heat flushed his face and burned his cold cheeks. It always feels good coming in after a day of hunting out in the cold.
"Hi, Mum," he said as she bustled about the fireplace.
Brushing the long black curls of loose hair from her face, his mother, Falice, set down her ladle and turned to face him. "Feyt! I am glad you are home. I heard there is trouble from the Freebrier's again. I was worried for you." She rushed up to him and gave him a quick peck on his smooth cheek. As usual, Feyt pretended not to notice her hair was unbraided and, worse, loose.
"Aw, Mum. I am safe. I always watch for strangers when I am out hunting. Besides, those lazy bandits are looking to steal something of value. They would not waste time on me. I don't have anything they want." He picked up one of the sourdough biscuits off the table and took a bite, ignoring her exasperated look that said 'wait for the meal'.
"Kansei told me Lord Freebrier's thieves aren't so picky anymore. They're looking for braided scalps, like yours,” she accentuated the last two words, “to show their new allies whose side they're on." She lifted the big iron pot off the fire and onto its stand, and then wiped her hands on her apron.
shrugged. “Kansei’s just a gossip. I heard they allied with Ergas Holm, but I don't care. They still have to catch me. I am the fastest runner on this side of the village. Even that old grouch Muroc admitted that at the last Games. Remember? I won the races a good fifty strides ahead of the next runner."
"Auch! Bragging! You are too proud, Feyt. Just thank the True God for his gifts and be glad his favor keeps the village safe." Feyt rolled his eyes. Surely, the One God takes care of the world, but I usually get faster results if I take care of myself.
Ignoring his look, Feyt's mother went on, "Here, sit down. Serente, come. Let's say our prayers and eat." As Serente hurried over, Feyt saw she’d released her braid from its bun now that the work was done. Her long blond hair now swung in a proper thick braid to the middle of her back in contrast to her mother’s. Feyt grimaced. Mum refused to braid her own long dark hair, proud of her foreign heritage, but she had made sure her children adhered to the proper style at least. That helped gain some acceptance in the village. Mum being different causes enough trouble for me without asking for more by dressing funny. He’d had plenty of fights with other boys over the years over being half-Southerner, and a One-Godder.
Hurrying up to the table, Serente smiled brightly at Feyt and he smiled back. Quiet and unassuming, she was always helping their mum and working. Somehow, she took all the stubborn differences of her mother in stride and never seemed disturbed when the other villagers whispered about them. Together, they all prayed a blessing from their mother's One God and settled into the meal.
As the meal ended, Feyt cleared his throat. "I, uh, was planning to go out with my friends tonight. It's Equinox, you know." He glanced at his mother, hoping he sounded nonchalant.
She frowned. "Equinox! That is an Old Gods' celebration, not the One God's. It is just an excuse to drink, and worse. They will all regret their excesses by morning. I won’t have my son carrying on so."
"Aw, Mum. I'm not going to drink anything. I mean, like strong. It's just what us younger ones can bring. That stuff is always watered down. Besides, all the youths will be there. Their parents let them go."
"No, Feyt. I don't care what the other parents do."
"But... everyone else will be there." Feyt bowed his head. "They'll all know I wasn't allowed to go."
His mother looked at him sadly. "It's not godly, Feyt. The young adults get into trouble at these celebrations. The One God knows, they are just copying their parents, who will be wild enough tonight. Those young ones will be out of control."
Oh, of course. The True God frowns on anything fun. As soon as he thought it, he felt guilty. I know better, but… I just want to go.
"Come on, Mum. I will only be with others who are near my age and we'll be down at the ford. We won't be close to anything down there. We can't get into trouble like last time."
She threw up her hands. “Last time! Exactly!” she admonished. The previous summer's Equinox, a bunch of youths got wild and broke into the baker's hut. Besides scattering and ruining two barrels of flour, the damage to his roof was visible for weeks afterwards before they finally repaired it. The vandals had torn through his thatched roof to get inside, then enlarged the hole trying to get a barrel of flour out. Obviously kids, since they had apparently not considered how heavy a barrel of flour would be to lift up through the roof to steal.
“Mum, I know no one’s ever admitted to it, but it was not me or any of my friends. I swear. Everyone knows it was only a few younglings led by some troublemakers.”
"I don't care who was responsible. I do not want you to go. Just knowing you're with that group gives you a reputation."
Yeah. A reputation I need, since I am your son and you are different. It makes me different. It is hard to get accepted when your mother has the loose black hair of a southerner and follows a god that is barely tolerated.
"But, Mum..."
"No. That is final. It's for your own good, Feyt.” Softening a little, she put her hand on his shoulder. “You know I love you. I only want what is best for you." She stood, ending the conversation, and gathered the dishes. "Go wash up. Tomorrow, I need you to stock up on more of those big hares you are so good at getting. The Ice is coming, you know." As she said the last she turned away and headed to her bed just past the fireplace.
Ah. The excuse for everything hard. “The Ice is coming”. Winter has cursed this land. The snow won’t thin until late spring. Now, most years it never goes away, even in summer. And every year, the ice sheets advance closer from the north. The tundra grows nearer, making life harder and harder. Winter is a malignant thing that hates us. Feyt felt morose.
Serente cast him a little smile and shrugged. He smiled and nodded back. He appreciated her sympathy. She idolized him, he knew. In her eyes, he could do no wrong. That was part of why he worked so hard at hunting. For Serente... and Mum of course.
Serente came close and whispered, “If Da were here, he’d let you go.”
“I don’t know, Serente. Mum is probably right. Besides, Da’s been gone two years now. He isn’t coming back.” He thought about his father. Da never returned from a trip into the tundra to the north. The family of Emmanis Wardholder has to provide for themselves now. Seeing her sad face, Feyt hugged her close. “We all miss Da, Serente. But I’m here. Don’t I bring us plenty of rabbits?”
“Rabbit stew, rabbit jerky, rabbit mush. You are a great provider, Feyt. But,… if you see something besides rabbit, could you make an extra effort?”
He grinned and tousled her hair. “What’s wrong with rabbit? I’ve eaten so much, my ears are longer than any of my friends, I can hear birds singing on the other side of the village, and you know how fast I can run.”
Looking conspiratorially at her mother's bed, Serente whispered, "If you sneak out, bring me one of those sweet pastries that are always there."
"Serente!" he whispered urgently back. "How could you think I'd sneak out?"
"I know you. I wish I could go."
"I'll take you next year, so you can get your own sweets."
"Promise?"
"Sure. Of course, that depends on whether Mum catches us or not." He grinned.
"Mum never catches you, Feyt."
He gave her a gentle push. “Mum, is expecting us to go to bed. Good night.”
She beamed one last bright smile at him knowingly. “Good night.” Then, she headed to her own cot.
“Know it all.” Feyt laughed quietly though. I guess Serente surely does know me. Blowing out the last candles, he clambered up the wood ladder to the tiny loft. It was the closest thing he had to privacy in their little hut.
She is right, though. Mum never catches me.