The Ice Storm
Chapter Twenty-five
"Attack, attack! We are under attack!" the man shouted as he skidded to a halt inside the Great Hall of the Ice Palace. He was bleeding profusely from a gash in his arm. Rhoswen stared at the flowing blood, her mind captured by the richness of the scent. It was a moment before she could register on the mans' message. Attack? By whom? Neva was demanding the same information, snapping her fingers to get the wounded guards attention.
"Who dares attack us?" she shouted. Her voice was full of the lethal power she could command. The man stood briskly to attention, despite the fact that his lifes blood continued to flow.
"We think it is the Fourth Kingdom, Your Majesty. Men and wolves together. I am sure I recognized King Wendell himself"
"King Wendell? Men and wolves? Fourth Kingdom soldiers don't fight side by side with wolves. Only our people do" Rhoswen cut in sharply, forgetting completely that she had just spoken over the top of the Queen. Neva shot her a surprised glance but remained silent as the guard answered.
"Traditionally no, but they are here nonetheless Princess. Not many to be sure, but they fight well and without fear"
"They fight out of desperation. They must surely be weakened from their journey here. They will not long continue this offensive. Finish them off quickly, and see that they do not approach this hall" Neva said, turning back to the Cauldron as if dismissing the matter entirely. Rhoswen gaped at her openly, knowing that her expression was mirrored by the many soldiers in the room with them. People with their backs to the wall, people with desperation fought all the more for their survival. Didn't she know that? And yet, in the back of her mind, Rhoswen knew a moment of quiet triumph. Neva was so out of touch with the reality of war and fighting. Only the magic was important in her mind. How long would the soldiers respect such a one as her?
"You are wounded, soldier" Rhoswen said, crossing to where the man stood awkwardly recounting details to the guards who clustered around him. They were making hasty plans, and she knew she ought not to disturb them, but...
"It's nothing, My Princess. I can still fight"
"Yes, of course, I have complete faith in your protection. It pains me to see your blood spilt on my account though" she replied. Rhoswen watched as the man stood a little taller under her praise. He left the hall with half of the remaining men, the rest taking up a defensive position in front of the doors. The smell of the blood still hung in the air, making Rhoswens senses come alive. For a moment, she let the wolf out to scan the room, the castle. She was not startled by Neva's silent approach behind her.
"You think I don't know, don't you?" Neva grated.
"I am only what you have made of me"
"A double edged sword indeed, little Princess"
"You are disappointed?"
"Oh no. But that does not mean I will ever let your plans come to fruition. It seems to me that I ought instead find myself another heir. Perhaps you can help me find such a one". She was so close that Rhoswen could feel her breath on the back of her neck. Instinct made her hands form claws, her gaze red tinted. But how confident she was, this Queen, to stand so close to such lethal power. Just reach out, snap that bird like spine. The only mother you've ever had. Do it, her mind hissed. But look, at the soldiers. They watch so closely now. They wonder what the Queen says to the Princess. Perhaps they only wait for the opportunity. Rhoswen's mind raced so much that it seemed the floor trembled beneath her feet.
A dozen placating replies formed on her lips, but just as she was about to speak, a frightening noise invaded the Palace. A noise that was so quick to come and go, and yet how could the whole world have not heard it? The men shouted in alarm to each other.
"What was that?" Neva had crossed to the other side of the room. Her voice sounded only shrill now to Rhoswen's still ringing ears. It came again, a massive boom and then silence. Closer this time. The ground was shaking. Rhoswens heart pounded in her mind, a sensation she recognized as fear. They were coming...
Neva's voice followed her as Rhoswen turned and ran for one of the side doors. "Rhoswen, where do you go? Come back!" A piece of the gilded ceiling crashed down on her heels as she wrenched the door open. Down, down, she needed to go down. If anything needed to be salvaged, it was down here in the depths of the earth. A tiny life, a life for the ransoming.
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Wendell's ears had gone comfortably numb in the din caused by battle. It rang off the stone walls and thrummed in his blood. The very ground seemed to vibrate under him. Clash, rattle, whistle. Swords and teeth came together. And over the top of all that, the booming thunder of Lord Antonys weapon. Wendell glanced back over his shoulder to see his former manservant standing atop a table, seemingly firing the weapon oh so calmly, like he was a seasoned battle veteran. Only Wendell could see the fine tremble of the hands, the blank whiteness of the face. Boom. An Eighth Kingdom soldier fell where he stood, his eyes gaping in surprise. For a second, dismay flooded Wendell. What was this thing, this horrible device that brought such swift death from such a distance? Where was the honour of such a weapon? Why, a man could claim a multitude of lives with this thing, and be not in a particle of danger in return from his enemies!
He didn't like it. He wanted to run at Tony and snatch the terrible thing away. And yet, here they stood, he and his ragtag 'army', before the doors of the Great Hall. Would they have gotten this far without the weapon? It was useless to debate the matter, he realised. Likely or not, here they were, and even Wendell, inexperienced as he was, could tell that something of importance lay behind those doors. Or, someone. The fighting had reached another level entirely. These soldiers fought like cornered animals protecting their young. Perhaps the Queen herself cowered within. The thought gave him a measure of comfort. He had survived this far, with luck he could have his wish granted.
Only a few Ice Kingdom soldiers remained before the doors. They were beset, and outnumbered. Wendell heard Rupert calling for the men to surrender.
"They won't" panted someone in his ear. It was Giles the wolf. Wendell glanced at him. The wolf had a long gash across his cheek which looked like it had been caused by teeth. He doubted that Giles felt it, or even if he knew about it. The wolf's own fangs protruded beyond his lower lip and his chin and neck were stained with blood not his own.
"They have fought well" Wendell said in reply, watching the standoff.
"Aye. We expected no less. And yet, we must finish this soon King Wendell. No doubt they sent swift messengers to their forces on the road. They may even now been hastening back to the Palace and we would not last long against them"
"Yes, you are right" Wendell said. He moved on impulse to stand just behind the ring of his soldiers who held the Eighth Kingdom guards at bay. There was a dim crashing sound from behind the doors and the ground rumbled again, giving Wendell a queasy feeling. Was the Palace unstable? Was the Ice Queen attempting to bring it down around them?
"Soldiers of the Eighth Kingdom, you are bested. Lay down your weapons and your lives will be spared. I, King Wendell, give you this assurance"
"You don't understand, lowland King. Our lives are forfeit in any case. Our Queen will tolerate no deserters. She would have us spend our lives even in defeat. She would have us fight fairly, man to man, not hide behind the thunder-weapon such as you have done". One of the men leaned forward and spat at the ground at Wendell's feet. But far from being angered, Wendell knew the truth of what the man said.
"I cannot undo what has been done. Nor can I turn aside from my sworn duty to protect my people and my land. I did not ask for this weapon to come to my hands, and yet had it not you would no doubt be trampling my body into the snow" Wendell said. The man smiled bitterly.
"But not only death do you bring to my fellows, but this weapon would bring down the entire Palace. Have you not felt the earth tremble beneath us? So, your campaign will come to naught after all. I only need keep you here a while longer and then we will all be crushed" he spat. And as if in response to his words, the floor did indeed quake and heave, like it was being forced upwards by a massive pressure. Wendell felt his feet sliding sideways a fraction before he dug the tip of his sword into the surface to halt himself. He looked back at Tony. The older man had gotten down from his perch. Silently he shook his head.
'No, you're wrong, all of you. This is but a small gun. There's no way it would be able to topple a whole castle, loud noise or not"
"Then what..." Wendell began, but he was cut off by more crashing from within the room behind the doors. The men protecting it stared wide eyed at the floor as it began to buckle and fold like it was made of silk, not stone. With a great roar the wall behind them cracked and splintered. The doors shook and collapsed inwards, revealing a large hall beyond. Wendell gripped his sword hilt firmly as he waded through the falling debris. One of the wolves had already made it through ahead of him. The man who had spat and cursed swung his axe wide, but Wendell was quicker, leaning in to stab swiftly, in and out, his blade dripping red as he pushed forward.
There was only one person within who claimed his attention now. Standing behind a massive cauldron, her hands and mouth forming incantations even as the Palace fell around her. The Ice Queen saw him and threw back her head in a defiant laugh.
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Willem crept as close as he dared to the edge of the crack in the floor. Close against the crook of his arm he held the wailing infant. He didn't dare to put her down anywhere lest she also be tumbled into the pit.
"Virginia?" he shouted downwards into the darkness. There was no answer. He couldn't see the bottom, he didn't even know if it had a bottom. She might still be falling for all he knew. Panic warred within him. He forced his body to calmness, stretching out with all his senses. His wolfen mind desperately tried to make sense of what he heard and smelt. Could that be a heartbeat he heard? Were those breaths, or merely gusts of air from whatever lay below?
"Virginia" he howled softly.
He was so intent on listening for any sign of her that he did not hear the quick footsteps coming up behind him. Too late he scented the intruder and recognized her. Rhoswen, come to claim the prize.
"No" he breathed. "By my life, no..."
"So be it". It was a whisper, no more. The blade sank deep, biting into his flesh.
Someone brushed past him, a soft hand caressed his hair. No one hand done that in so many years. He thought he would swoon from the pleasure of it. He stood in a bright circle of light. Strong arms encircled him. He knew them, after so many moons, he knew them all.
Someone called out, and the forest rang with wolfsong. "Caelum, come and see! Look now, our son has come home"