Cold from the north, p.27
Cold From The North, page 27
part #1 of The Onyxborn Chronicles Series
Rigin nodded and then motioned for the three of them to follow him beyond the gate and into the main holdfast of Delfmarc. The whole area was filled with soldiers. Ogulf noticed some sharpening blades, while others tended armour, and two were leading an archery lesson with what looked like younger recruits. Ogulf was relieved in a way; the men here looked ready to fight, not at all like the meek men in Luefmort. They looked hardened and battleworthy, the kind of soldiers who would take the fight to whoever they had to.
Soon the three were being waved through numerous doors and passageways as they climbed what seemed like an endless staircase. The steps started outside and then wound their way into an opening in the side of a tower, where they continued to spiral upwards. The air inside the tower was stifling and Ogulf was breathing heavily. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he found himself wishing for a breeze.
At the top of this tower, they were greeted by a smiling soldier. Unlike most of the others, he did not wear a helmet. His eyes were weary, and his short hair was straggly and flat. Some dried red stains were visible on his Esselonian armour.
‘Paladin Vellan,’ the man said, his eyes lighting up with relief. ‘The princess will be eager to see you’ve returned.’ He escorted them out of the doorway. Suddenly, they were no longer in the near infinite stairway; instead, they were outside, high above the city, on the top battlements that Ogulf noticed on his approach. He had never been so high, and the sight of the ground so far below made his stomach churn. Despite trying to stop them, his feet disobeyed him, and he took a few steps closer towards the edge of the wall to peer down.
To the west, he could see the Grendspires rising. They were as immense as the stories said they would be. The tips of the mountains were dusted with bright white snow.
‘Ogulf, Melcun, with me please.’ They followed Vellan and the other man up a set of stairs and through a door. Looking around, Ogulf noticed guards everywhere. There was no doubt in his mind he was about to meet with the princess – no one else would be in the tallest tower of a fortress like this with so many guards. His stomach fluttered the way it used to before a battle, during that tense moment ahead of a charge or an ambush. He had never had it in a situation like this, but he supposed that this was a battle of sorts. Or at least a fight. He would have to fight to get Feda to understand he needed her help. He couldn’t grovel or beg; he must be strong.
They entered a large hall which was partially lit by the dwindling light of dusk and helped by four evenly spread out fire pits, one in each corner of the room. At the end of the room there was a grand chair, not quite as sumptuous as the throne in Jargmire, but a regal seat nonetheless. Standing in front of the chair was a woman.
Her hair was red, and her youthful face was sprinkled with freckles. She was pale, not quite pale in the way of people from Broadheim, but pale in comparison to a lot of the faces Ogulf had seen in Esselonia. She was athletically built and wore the most elegant and feminine armour Ogulf had ever seen; she looked every bit the warrior and the princess at the same time.
Leaning by her chair behind her was a longsword, crafted at the perfect mix between elegant and deadly. The blade itself must have been around the same height as her if you stood them side by side, but there was no doubt to Ogulf that this sword must have belonged to the princess.
The princess was bidding farewell to an elegantly dressed man who attempted to kiss the back of her hand as they parted. As he did, her eyes shot up and she noticed the odd people in the room. Drawn to Vellan, she pulled her hand away from the man and sprinted towards him, throwing her arms around his neck.
The man she was speaking with before looked on, evidently unsure of how to react. The clothes he wore were all in grey with tasselled shoulders – fashioned in a ceremonial design rather than armour for combat, Ogulf assumed. The man’s features were sharp, his nose as straight as an arrow and pointed like one too. His intense eyes met Ogulf’s and lingered. The muscles in his face were taut from decades of pursed lips and a jaw that may as well have been wired shut. Despite the severity of his features, he was a graceful man. He turned to leave the room, clearly realising his time with Feda had passed.
‘I thought you were dead,’ Feda said. The words tumbled out of her mouth as she looked Vellan up and down.
The elegant man walked towards the exit. Through his malice-carved features, he offered Ogulf a mouthy grin. The smile never reached his eyes, though; they remained unmoved and intense. Wildar had always said never to trust a man who didn’t smile with his eyes and this man’s eyes were all but dead. The door clicked shut with his departure.
‘No. I was rescued,’ Vellan said, extracting himself from the embrace of the princess.
Feda walked back to her throne and he followed a few steps behind. Betrothed or not, they were clearly used to sticking to chivalrous traditions until they were married. ‘Why are there no guards in here, Feda?’ Vellan asked, his eyes darting all around the dimming room.
‘I asked them all to stay near the gate. We need to look like we have the numbers, it’s good for morale,’ Feda said, sitting on her throne gracefully. ‘Besides, the meetings I have today are all with members of the council, so I didn’t think them necessary.’
‘Very well, Your Grace,’ Vellan said, his face suggesting that his words were forced. Ogulf heard him take a sharp breath in. ‘We couldn’t find your brother. He wasn’t in those forests. It seems like it was a trap set by one of the militias.’ Feda reared slightly. Ogulf couldn’t be sure if she was reacting to the first point or the second. ‘I suspect we were deceived; the ambush was too precise for it to be a fluke. My whole unit was killed, and they took me. Their plan was to sell me to The Red Isles.’
‘And you escaped?’ she said. ‘I assume this isn’t some kind of barter with these two men behind you?’
‘Yes, I escaped. Well, no, actually, that’s not right – I was rescued by these two. They were travelling the Mule Road when they came across the cart I was being taken in and they saved me and rid the world of two traitors in the process.’
‘Well, for that, the kingdom gives you thanks. And so do I,’ Feda said. ‘It’s one thing to save a paladin but another thing entirely to save the one who I am promised to. I expect you brought them here to reward them?’
‘You could say that, ac–’
‘–Actually, Your Grace,’ Ogulf interrupted and stepped forward from behind Vellan. The paladin sighed and Feda’s eyes widened as they latched onto Ogulf’s brazen breach of court etiquette. ‘We were sent here to meet with you. I have travelled a long way to do so and to bring you a message.’ He placed his hand in the inside breast pocket of his black armour, and took a fleeting moment to praise the Shingal for their ability to put such a thing in armour like this. He extracted Lord Hanrik’s note and held it out, making sure to convey an expression of stern assertiveness.
Feda gestured for Vellan to take the note and bring it to her. Once he got close enough to hand it over, the princess looked hurt for a moment, then a hand went to cover her mouth as she noticed the bloodstained bandage around Vellan’s hand. The fleeting moment passed, and her expression resumed its royal impassiveness as she turned her attention to the letter.
‘You’re Shingally?’ she said in some kind of disbelief, flipping the letter over once and then again to inspect it. The lord’s wax seal shimmered slightly as she did. ‘We haven’t seen an emissary from your country in months.’
‘No, not Shingally,’ Ogulf said. ‘But please, open the letter. It is from Lord Hanrik Vranton in Luefmort.’
Vellan shot Ogulf a querying glance as he moved back to where he had been standing. ‘You kept that quiet,’ he whispered to Ogulf before he turned.
The princess was scanning the letter and nodding. She folded it and held on to it. ‘You do bring good news. Though I am not sure their help will come quick enough. We are expecting an attack on Delfmarc by the South in the coming days. If we’re lucky, some of us might survive to receive their aid,’ the princess said, her tone flat, defeated. ‘I will arrange for your safe passage across to the Shingal first thing tomorrow. We should have enough time to get you to the coast, and I’ll see to it you get on a ship.’
‘Your Grace, there is one more thing I need to bring to you,’ Ogulf said. The statement drew ire from the eyes of the princess. ‘I was promised an audience.’
‘An audience to provide the message you were sent to deliver, which I believe you have done. I am not in the position to take requests right now. If it is gold you seek for your troubles and travels, then I will see to it that you are paid. Thank you.’ Feda’s eyes went back to the letter as she opened it again.
‘With respect, Your Grace, I was promised an audience and I am not finished with my message,’ Ogulf said. He wondered where the excited girl he had seen when Vellan entered the room had gone.
‘He was, Your Grace. I promised him an audience with you for saving me,’ Vellan said, eyes pointed downwards to avoid the glare of his betrothed. The princess sighed and raised a hand as if to allow Ogulf to begin.
Ogulf took a deep breath, ‘I am not from Shingal,’ Ogulf said. ‘I have come from Broadheim. And as far as I am aware, the whole of my country is now overrun.’ He looked at Feda, hoping for even the slightest of reactions, but she gave nothing away. ‘All of it. Jargmire, Tran, Port Saker, all of the Holds, and even my town of Keltbran.’ He thought he saw a twinge in her eyes at the mention. ‘We were invaded by a force from the North. We think they come from Visser. They march in the name of a dark power looking to fulfil an ancient prophecy and obtain the powers of the Peaks of Influence across the world. If our interpretations are right …’ His words were coming out too quickly. He took a second to breathe and focus, and then he said, ‘Then, eventually, that war will come to Esselonia. To stop that from happening, I was told to bring you this.’ He slowly unsheathed Wildar’s axe from his back and displayed it to Feda across both of his hands. Feda sat up in her chair. She still wasn’t giving much away, but the fact that she had not protested let Ogulf know he could continue. ‘Before Esselonia, we expect they will make an attempt to invade the Shingally Empire,’ Ogulf said. Feda didn’t twitch but Vellan snickered slightly.
‘Invade Shingal? They’ll be quashed at the first battle,’ Vellan said.
‘I thought this too. But after spending time there, I wouldn’t be so sure,’ Ogulf said.
Feda interrupted the pair. ‘Where did you get that weapon?’ she asked. Ogulf looked to see the princess’ eyes, they were wide with wonder and fixed on the gilded hilt of Wildar’s weapon.
‘It was given to me when we were fleeing the Order of Maledict in Broadheim – they are the ones who seek to fulfil the Onyxborn prophecy and return dark magic to prominence in the name of Loken.’ Ogulf felt like a sage as the words tumbled out of his mouth.
‘You didn’t answer my question,’ Feda said. ‘Where did you get it?’
It was time.
‘Your uncle gave it to me,’ Ogulf said. Her eyes widened and she took a quick breath through her nose, making her back straighten. ‘Wildar. He basically raised me. Showed me all the tricks with an axe, spear, and sword; taught me to hunt; protected my father; and looked after my people. He was one of the few people in this world I trusted. His dying words to me were that you–’ He pointed at Feda. ‘–You, and only you, were the one who could save us all. And that I had to bring this to you. Now I am not one for prophecy or for destiny, at least I wasn’t until recently, but Wildar–’ Just as he hoped, she gave another involuntary twitch at the name. ‘–Said that you can help us. So, by all the gods, I believe it to be true.’
‘He died?’ Feda said, looking at the clasped hands on her lap. A tear streamed down her cheek.
‘Yes. Fell in the Banespit when we were making the journey South, away from the members of the Order who were chasing us,’ Ogulf said.
Feda stood from her chair and descended the two steps from its platform. She began pacing slowly back and forth across the floor.
‘What else did he say?’ she asked, not making eye contact.
‘Just that you could save us. That you would need the axe to do so. Vague, I know,’ Ogulf said.
‘Of all the times this could land at my feet, it had to be now.’
‘Wait, Feda, that isn’t what I think it is, is it?’ Vellan asked.
‘It’s exactly what you think it is, Vellan. That is Solsana.’
‘Solsana?’ Ogulf said.
‘The Light of the World, The Guiding Light of Esselonia, a weapon of the Lightwielders, and one that can stop the powers of dark magic,’ Vellan said. Ogulf looked at the axe in his hands – it was beautiful, powerful, and deadly, but it didn’t look special. ‘Feda, does this mean Wildar had this all along?’ Vellan said.
‘He must have, and here the world thought that it was nestled at the bottom of the ocean or gathering dust in some far away shack.’ She let out a heavy sigh. ‘I’m losing this war – how can I possibly lend a hand in another? The gods seem to hold me to a fate I cannot escape.’
Feda walked towards him and went to take the axe in her hands. Just as she was about to touch it, someone burst through the door behind them with vigour.
A man, who was actually more like two men across, strode in with a few armoured guards behind him. The big man’s face was round and red, and his white sideburns wrapped around his cheeks, making his cropped hair look like a spiked helmet.
‘Your Grace, there is a glow coming from the Old Stone. It means that the Solsana is near,’ the man said.
‘Yes, General Cedryk.’ Feda chuckled in disbelief. ‘It’s right here.’ She took it in her hand and spun around, letting the firelight dance off the blade as she showed him.
Chapter 31
The waves were choppy, much more so than Danrin had expected. It had been some time since he was on the waters of the Sea of Blades, and his other experiences of the seas came from near the capital in the Illindrian Ocean, where the waters were much calmer. Perhaps that was why these felt so rough, he just wasn’t used to them anymore.
He was aboard a vessel which drifted halfway across the Sea of Blades. In the blurry distance, he could see the shoreline of Port Saker.
Men moved around the ship. They were waiting for more ships to join them in the blockade. Danrin wanted to get a closer look at the build-up of forces in Port Saker for himself – only then did he feel he could properly explain to his father the severity of the peril they faced.
Far in the distance, visible only through his long glass, Danrin could see the beachhead and the build-up of forces around it. Their numbers were incredible.
Danrin was at the edge of the blockade formation, and from his position, he could see the middle ship, The Prince’s Peace, the grandest and most powerful ship in all of the fleet. Aboard would be Admiral Maitlund. He had been enforcing the blockade for days now and encouraged the prince to bolster the numbers as they waited for the next move from the Order of Maledict and their positions in Broadheim.
Danrin was becoming impatient as he looked through his long glass. He’d hoped to have been and gone from this part of his day by now, and he had seen all that he needed to, but he had to wait for the other blockade ships to arrive before he could return to Shingally shores and then back to Luefmort.
He glanced back towards the Shingally shoreline, hoping to see signs of the other ships, but there was nothing. When he returned his eyes to the other side of the Sea of Blades, he noticed a deep fog had begun to ride over the waves towards them. At first, Danrin thought it was a heavy rainstorm, but it was too thick to be that. Then it encroached the ship Danrin was on, plunging his surroundings into a grey haze. It was like a huge wall of swirling grey that went from the waves all the way to the very edges of the sky. Confused murmurs came from the sailors behind Danrin as they also noticed this incredible sight.
‘Have any of you seen anything like this before?’ Danrin called out, unable to see any of the men aboard the ship, although he was sure they had only been feet away moments ago.
‘Nothing like this, sir,’ a voice called back. Danrin heard unease in the words.
There was also a smell in the air. Not the salty scent of the sea but a dark smell – the smell of death.
***
In Port Saker, Nevea was standing on the coast and staring directly at the tiny ships bobbing on the horizon while Nadreth watched from a few paces behind her. They were Shingally. Yesterday there had been six and today there were ten. If King Nadreth and his advisors were correct, then before long, there would be a full fleet of them. The intention of the Shingally Empire was clearly to blockade the Sea of Blades to stop the advance of the king’s army.
They were smart. Either they had been warned or the Shingally vigilance was just as committed as it always had been. The planners of the king’s army had scratched their heads for days about how to tackle this problem, and they had had teams working to build ships as quickly as possible with the intention of attacking the Shingally fleet in the Blades. The daily increase in the numbers on the blockade had forced them to abandon this idea for the time being.
Building their own boats had also not been easy as not all of the wood in the areas around Port Saker was fit for purpose; most of it was dead or already chopped down to stumps.
When Nevea had first arrived in Port Saker, the king had planned to make a spectacle of her. He, Nadreth, Son of Tolqrana, blood descendant of the very first of the clan Maledict, had fulfilled his family’s age-old promise. He had found the Onyxborn.
He wanted to have a rally of sorts, something good for the men to replenish them after their difficult march South. The taking of Broadheim had been much easier than expected, but the cold was beginning to take effect. The armour his men wore was specially designed to keep the cold at bay, but even though it didn’t affect their bodies much, it had started to drain their minds.
