September 14, 1840
Torch flames danced over earthen walls, casting eerie shadows. Boot heels thumped in a steady rhythm against the dirt floor adding to the tunnels unnerving confines.
Head held high Tollak led the way. Everything was falling into place. If all went well, they could take the castle with minimal bloodshed. Lost in thought, it took him a moment to realize the Prince had moved to his side.
"We need to neutralize the Admiral as quickly as possible."
Is this spoiled little ass pimple really going to explain battle tactics to me? Tollak's face remained neutral, masking his annoyance. "Yes, Your Highness, I agree. After the Admiral is dealt with, I'll order the castle guard to stand down. Then your men can move in and secure the castle and courtyard."
"Are you sure they will stand down without a fight?"
Tollak's hand twitched with an urge to clench. He was not used to having his abilities questioned. "They will do as they are told."
"Let's hope you're right, Colonel. I'd like to think my future Admiral has control of his men."
For a fleeing moment, Tollak wondered if the French had the right idea, when they drug their Royals to the guillotine. "We'll have the element of surprise, and the high ground. They will stand down."
Hans pulled up his jacket collar against the frigid air. "Why is it so damn cold in here?" His breath clouded in the air before them.
"The witch sealed the tunnel." Tollak gestured ahead to the source of the unnatural cold.
Blue ice stretched across the tunnel, sealing it from floor to ceiling. There was a large doorway in the center of the wall.
An Arendelle guard stood watch at the opening, a rifle held across his chest. He snapped to attention as Tollak approached.
"Has anyone been here since I left?"
"No, sir."
"Good."
The guard stepped aside as Tollak passed through the doorway.
"Do not touch the ice. It will freeze your skin in a matter of seconds." Tollak warned without looking back.
Careful to keep his distance, Hans stepped through the doorway. To one side hung a massive door. The two-foot-thick block of ice hung suspended from huge ice hinges. "Clever girl." He noted a pair of thick leather blacksmith gloves lying beside the wall. The palms were coated with ice.
"What's this?" Hans stepped to a pile of back packs stacked against the tunnel wall. "Elsa planning to abandon her people in their time of need, again?"
"I believe the Queen intended those for Princess Anna, should she be forced to flee the castle."
"You believe? Did she not trust her second in command, with her sister's escape plan?" Hans picked up one of the packs and began rummaging through it. "Let's hope that's the only secret she's kept from you, Colonel."
Tollak's back stiffened at the remark. "I'm sure Chamberlain Kai was the only one privy to her wishes."
"Ah yes, the loyal Chamberlain." From the pack Hans pulled out a small, leather pouch. He dropped the pack. "There will be no swaying him from Elsa's side." The pouch rattled as he opened it and dumped a pile of gold Krones into an outstretched palm. His eyes narrowed at the image of Elsa etched into the newly minted coins. "No, there is only one way to deal with such a devoted servant." He shoved the coins back into the pouch, pulling the drawstring closed. "Captain."
"Sir?" The officer stepped up.
Hans held the pouch up for the men to see. "A bag of gold for the soldier that captures or kills Chamberlain Kai." He tossed the pouch to the captain.
Tollak tensed, his lips drawing into a thin line.
"Do you object, Colonel?" Hans turned to him.
"Only at the manner of his death. He deserves a proper execution." Some of Tollak's stiffness eased. "But, given the circumstances, he is a threat to our mission."
"I'm glad we're in agreement. Leave the guard at the door. We need to keep the passage open for our reinforcements." He walked away not waiting for a reply.
With a command, the soldiers formed up by twos and followed the Prince.
Tollak's fist tightened on the sword hilt. "Yes, Your Highness." With a curt bow he turned to the guard. "Shoot to kill anyone that attempts to leave the castle."
"Yes, sir."
Ignoring the soldier's salute, Tollak hurried to catch up with Hans.
0000
Halvor pulled the horse to a sliding stop as they reached the tower. Before Anna could jump down, strong arms lifted and tossed her off the horse.
Her startled squeal died with a huff as she landed in Morten's arms. "Hey!" Was the only protest she could manage as he sprinted toward the tower entrance.
"Dismount and form up!" Arian commanded, taking a position near the entrance.
Men jumped from their horses, scrambling to form a firing line between Anna and the raiders.
Bullets bounced off cobblestones, and the tower's stone walls. Anna heard one of the men grunt in pain, the darkness of the tower engulfed her before she could see which one had been struck.
Light spilled down the staircase along one wall, driving some of the shadows from the dim lit room. Morten placed her on her feet atop the bottom step. "Stay away from the door, Your Highness." He didn't wait for an answer as he hurried to greet Lauris and Arian. They were carrying Normund between them.
Anna bounced on the balls of her feet, fighting the urge to rush to the men.
Morten motioned toward the stairs with his head. "Arian, you and Lauris secure the upstairs."
"Yes, sir." Arian guided them to the stairs. They lowered Normund onto the steps beside Anna. With nods to her they bounced up the stairs, out of sight.
"Normund." Anna knelt at his side, uncertain what to do, she offered him a warm smile.
"Hello, Your Highness." He managed a shaky smile in return. Sweat coated his flushed cheeks.
She pulled a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and began dabbing at his forehead. "How bad is it?" Gunfire drown out the question, forcing her to repeat it. Her gaze settled on the bloody hand pressed against his thigh.
"It's…nothing, ma'am. Just my leg." He sank back to rest an elbow on the stairs. "Though, Anja, is going to be upset." He drew a sharp breath. "I won't be able to take her dancing for a bit." His chuckled turned to a grimace.
"I'm sure she'll understand." She patted his arm, noting it trembled beneath her hand. This is my fault. "We need to stop the bleeding." Not seeing anything suitable for a bandage, she hiked up her skirt and began tearing the petticoat beneath.
"Princess Anna! What are you doing?" He turned away, pressing into the wall, in a failed attempt to put distance between them.
"Bandaging your leg. Sit still." She pushed his hand aside. Blood trickled from the wound disappearing beneath his pants leg. Anna swallowed the lump tightening in her throat. Blood had never bothered her before. She'd seen enough of her own over the years from accidents and mishaps.
This isn't my blood. Guilt gnawed at her as she wrapped the bandage around his leg, avoiding eye contact. How many more were going to be hurt trying to protect her? With a tug she tied off the bandage. "That'll have to do till we get you back to the castle."
Eying the bandage, Normund smiled. "Thank you, Your Highness."
The warmth of his smile made her guilt worse.
The tower door slammed closed as the last of her men made it inside. Several of them placed two large beams across the door, into iron braces set on either side. Bullets riddled the heavy door. None passed through.
Arian appeared on the landing. "It's clear, sir. There are two guardsmen waiting for orders."
"Good." Morten turned to the men. "Everyone upstairs! Peder, Lauris, take the rear, and secure the first landing, in case they break through."
"Yes, sir!" The brothers answered in unison.
"Halvor, stay close to the princess." Easing past Anna, Morten started up the stairs.
The guardsman had already taken a position at the stairs, with Anna in arms reach. "Yes, sir."
Bullets continued to strike the door.
Anna helped Normund to his feet, slipping his arm over her shoulders. Her knees threatened to buckle under the weight.
Halvor took his other arm, easing Anna's load. Together they helped him up the stairs.
She bit back a sigh of relief as Arian took her place. Free of her burden, she hurried up the stairs to get out of their way.
Clearing the stairs, she found herself in a small room. Large windows were open on all four sides, giving a full view of the town. There was an unlit stone fireplace along the wall facing the fjord. It was clear, the sparely furnished room was meant for function, not comfort.
The tower guards bowed as she passed. "Your Highness."
Out of reflex Anna returned the greeting with a dip of her head. "Hello."
Her men cleared the stairs, rushing to take up positions around the room at the open windows.
"Are you alright, Your Highness?" Morten's eyes swept up and down her searching for any injuries.
"Yes, I'm fine." She waved him off. "Who were those men?"
"I don't know, ma'am. But, it's clear they're not guardsman."
"Yeah, the one who grabbed me was Russian."
"Russian? Are you sure, ma'am?" A deep line creased the center of Morten's brow as he spoke.
"Yes, his accent was hard to miss."
Halvor stepped up offering Anna a ladle of water. "Drink this, Your Highness."
"No, thank you. I don't…." She held up a hand, with a little shake of her head.
"Drink." He pressed the ladle into her hand. "You've been running in the heat, and you may not get a chance later."
She took it, intend on taking a sip to satisfy him. Once the water struck the back of her throat, she couldn't stop, emptying the ladle in several large gulps. Gasping for air, she wiped the back of a hand over her mouth. It left a dirty smear across her cheek. She handed the ladle back. "Thank you."
Halvor's shoulders shook with a silent laugh. "Your welcome, ma'am."
"I want another man on the stairs." Morten gestured toward the stairwell as he moved about the room, checking each window.
"I'll go." Not waiting for an answer, the younger of the tower guards hurried down the stairs, musket in hand.
"Sir," Called one of the men guarding the windows. "We've got troops moving in from the direction of the castle."
Anna rushed toward the window. Her feet flew out as something snagged the back of her armor plate, pulling her back. She found herself almost at eye level with Morten.
"Please, Your Highness, stay away from the windows."
"But, I…" She sighed, as his brow dipped into the familiar crease. "fine."
He settled her onto her feet and stepped to the window.
The raiders had stopped firing.
Peeking around Morten, Anna was relieved to see most of the townspeople had cleared the streets. The sight of two dozen infantry troops double timing it through the town square, made her giddy.
Some of her excitement waned as she noticed the raiders had dismounted and taken cover behind the broken cart and other items scattered along the street. Their weapons trained on the tower. "We need to warn them about the riders."
"We'll try to signal…wait, someone get me a spyglass." Morten held out a hand, not taking his eyes from the troops. One of the guardsmen slapped the glass into his palm. Raising it to his eye, he took a moment to adjust it.
Several guardsmen on horseback had appeared from a side street. They blocked the troops path near the edge of the square. The leader of the troops approached and saluted the lead horseman.
They spoke for several minutes. The troop leader waved an arm toward the tower. His gestures becoming more animated. After what appeared to be a heated exchange he stepped back to attention and saluted the officer. His men turned and marched back through the square.
"Where are they going?!" Anna pushed up beside Morten.
"It looks like they were ordered to withdraw."
"What? Why would they do that?" Anna fought the urge to lean out the window and scream at them.
"I don't know, ma'am. It doesn't…damn." Morten's curse was little more than a whisper.
He handed Anna the glass. "I believe we've found one of the traitors."
She brought the glass up, focusing on the mounted officer. He raised his head looking toward the tower.
Icy fingers ran down Anna's spine. "Reino."
0000
Something soft and wet nibbled at the icy material covering Elsa's shoulder. Her brain struggled to connect the gentle nudging with the pain pulsing through her side. She eased open an eye to find a large brown eye staring back at her from inches away.
Had she not been so dazed she would have startled at the strange sight. Her eyes snapped shut, allowing her mind a moment to clear. There was another soft nudge. "Vor?"
She was answered with a neigh.
"No, I'm not dead. Not yet anyway." Opening her eyes, she turned her face away as Vor leaned in to nibble at her hair. "Stop that."
Vor grumbled, moving back to nibbling at her sleeve.
Judging by the sun peeking through the trees, she hadn't been out long. Beneath her the leaf covered ground was surprisingly comfortable. It would have been a peaceful setting, but for the distant sound of men trying to kill each other.
I need to help them, with the thought she attempted to sit up.
Pain shot through her side, stealing her breath away. She dropped back clutching at the wound. Fresh sweat beaded over her forehead, causing her bangs to lay plastered to the damp skin. She drew sharp, quick breaths against the pain.
When the pain had eased to a tolerable level, she raised her head. Gritting her teeth, she lifted the makeshift bandage. Blood oozed from a long gash, running from midway her side, downward toward her abdomen. With light touches and hisses she tested the wound. Relieved to find it was long, but not deep, she laid back. The blade had skated over her ribs without piercing deeper. It didn't appear to have reached the bone. While not ideal, at least, there had been no ruptured organs.
Across the clearing laid the guard who had stabbed her. Neither he or his partner had moved since her blackout. For a fleeing moment, she wondered if they were dead. Sounds of battle reminded her there were others who needed her help.
"Think Elsa, what do you need to do first?" She raised a shaky hand intent on wiping her brow. It paused midair as she studied the blood covering it. "First, stop the bleeding." With a wave of her hand the bloody bandage was replaced with a fresh one. An icy band formed around her waist, holding the thick bandage in place.
"That's a start."
Every attempt to sit up, pulled at the wounded flesh, bringing with it a fresh wave of pain. She took a deep breath and rolled to one side. Another roll landed her face down in the dirt. There was still pain, but it was somewhat bearable. Her arms trembled as she pushed herself up. Once on her hands and knees, she stopped to steady her breathing. "Now, just stand up."
She rocked forward, but no further. Her arms buckled dropping her face first into the leaves and soft dirt. She whimpered at the jolt.
Jaw set, her lip trembled as she placed both hands flat upon the ground. Muscles strained to push her up. "You. Are. The. Queen." She made it to her knees. "Your people," She reached out, swiping at a stirrup before catching it. "Need you."
One foot came to rest on the ground. Her breath caught at the motion. Pushing through the pain, she used the stirrup to pull herself to her feet.
Forehead pressed against the saddle, she stood trying to catch her breath. "Your sister…" Satisfied she wasn't going to fall, she raised her head. "Needs you." Clinging to the saddle with one hand, she reached for the reins with the other. "For once in your life," Fingertips grazed the leather. She eased a little further forward, capturing them. "Pull yourself together and," With the reins in hand she straightened, stifling a grunt. "Be there, for them."
Vor neighed at her.
"What are you looking at?"
She glanced down. Blood and dirt covered her clothes, hands and face. "You're right. I can't go home looking like this." With a sweep of her hand the damaged dress was replaced by a clean one, minus her ice cape. A second sweep recreated the crystal blue breast plate complete with her Royal standard and snowflake. It encircled her torso, covering the wound and bandages. Her breath caught at the snug fit over the wound. It'll help stop the bleeding, she reasoned. The magic swished away the last of the blood and sweat.
"Better?" She patted Vor's neck. "Of course, it's better." She chuckled, reaching for the saddle pommel. "Great, now they have me talking to animals. Next, we'll be sharing carrots."
Vor tossed her head back with a whinny.
"Don't get any ideas."
She eyed the armor with a resigned sigh. "Conceal it."
Her teeth grit against the pain, as she raised a foot into the stirrup. "Don't feel it." With a deep breath she heaved herself upward, managing to swing a leg over Vor's back.
Pain shot through her side. She dropped onto the saddle causing more pain as she doubled over with a strangled cry. Her fingers clutched deep into Vor's mane. She squeezed her eyes shut, puffing quick shallow breaths to counter the pain.
She lay against Vor's neck for several minutes till her breathing grew steady. Once the pain had faded to a dull ache she eased up. "Don't let them know." A sad smile crossed her lips. "Oh, Papa, if only you had known what those words would come to mean."
Her hands turned palms up, and with a thought ice gauntlets covered them from hand to elbow. She sat tall in the saddle. "Come on girl, let's get our men and go home." Focused on the battle below she tapped Vor's sides. As they rushed toward the battle Elsa pushed away all thoughts of pain. There would be time for that later. First, she needed to save her kingdom.
0000
From the tunnels Tollak led the way through the dungeons, and up into the main body of the castle without encountering anyone. He stepped into a hall and stopped, waving the others back.
Hans signaled two soldiers to flank the doorway. He and the others sank into the shadows.
The soldiers took their positions. Each armed with a loaded crossbow, held at the ready.
Two Arendelle guards approached Tollak's position.
"You men, come here." From the corner of his eye Tollak could see the others moving into hiding.
"Colonel?" One of the guards recovered from the shock of stumbling upon his commanding officer.
Tollak pointed to the room he'd come from. "I want you to check the hallways leading to the dungeons."
"The dungeons, sir?"
"Is there a problem, soldier?"
"No, sir." The man straightened and saluted.
Tollak returned the salute. "Get moving."
"Yes, sir." The soldier hurried toward the doorway with his partner close on his heels.
They were several steps into the room when Tollak heard the twang of bowstrings. Two strangled cries were followed by heavy thuds. He checked to make sure no one else was coming before returning to the room.
Several soldiers were carrying the dead guards to a darken corner. The bodies were stripped of their jackets and hats, before being piled behind a couch.
Hans watched Tollak while his men dealt with the bodies. If the soldier's deaths bothered him, he gave no signs of it. There was a ruthlessness to the man Hans admired. It would be a pity to lose his knowledge and skills. But, there was no way he could allow the man to serve him, much less, lead his army. No, once his men had control, Tollak would join the others as the hangman's guest.
Hell, once the people learn of his role in this little coup, they'll beg me to execute him. After all, no one likes a traitor. His lips eased upward at the thought. "How many more guards can we expect, Colonel?"
"Counting these two, there are a dozen men assigned to the castle patrol. I managed to work three of my men into the detail."
The soldiers passed around the jackets till two were found who could wear them.
"How will I be able to identify them?" Hans said.
"You won't. They'll be watching for you. Do you know how to find the side entrance from here, Your Highness?"
"Yes."
"Good, I'll take two men and go to the council room. After I've dealt with Halldor, I'll meet you in the courtyard."
"Agreed." Hans nodded.
"If there is any resistance, my men have been instructed to act as soon as your men open fire."
"Excellent." Hans dipped his head to Tollak. "I'll see you in the courtyard, Colonel."
Tollak bowed. "I look forward to it, Your Highness." He motioned to the men who had killed the guards. "You two, come with me." Not waiting for a reply, he started for the doorway. The soldiers followed.
Once they were out of sight, Hans turned to his men. "From this point on no one gets out of the castle alive."
"What about the guardsmen, sir?" The Captain said.
"No one, Captain. We can't risk the guardsmen raising an alarm, and the castle staff is loyal to the Queen. All should be considered a threat. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good, follow me." Hans turned on his heels and stalked toward the courtyard.
0000
Beyond the ice barricade the riders circled, firing into the Arendelle ranks, while trying to breach the gaping hole left by the explosion.
The blast had taken them by surprise. Olsen was relieved and proud of the speed with which his men recovered from the attack. Several riders had managed to slip in before a firing line could secure the breach. His men identified and dealt with the traitors before they could cause more damage. Their deaths had been much swifter than they deserved, but they would never harm another Arendelle soldier.
With his men holding the firing line, Olsen and a small group set about dealing with the riders within the barricade. Most had been pulled from their horses. Once on the ground they fought to disrupt the firing lines.
Captain Olsen batted away the bayonet thrust aimed for his chest and countered with an overhead strike. His attacker brought up his rifle, blocking the sword strike. Chips of wood flew from the wooden grip. The man shoved forward with all his weight, pushing Olsen back and off balance. Continuing the attack, he swung the rifle stock at Olsen's skull.
Olsen ducked the strike, driving his sword guard into the man's exposed ribs. The blow sank deep, breaking at least one rib, and earning a sharp grunt from the man. He stumbled back from the blow. Not allowing any quarter, Olsen lunged thrusting his sword through the man's chest.
The rifle clattered to the ground, as the man reached for the blade. He dropped to his knees, coughing up blood. His body went slack, held upright by Olsen's efforts to free his sword.
He twisted the blade and pulled. It remained steadfast. With a curse, he placed a boot heel against the man's chest and leaned in with both hands on the hilt.
Pain shot through his back as something struck him hard between the shoulders. The blow sent him sailing over the dead man. He managed to tuck, landing with a roll. As he came to his knees, he looked up to find his attacker jumping over the dead man, a rifle raised high, intent on smashing Olsen's skull.
Falling back, Olsen raised an arm to protect his head. Cold air washed over him, lifting his attacker from the ground. The man's surprised yelp ended as he slammed into the barricade before dropping to the ground.
Relief mixed with joy. There was only one person who could have done such a thing. Olsen jumped to his feet, searching for his Queen.
She appeared from the tree line charging toward the barricade. Ice pulsed through the ground before her, splitting to spread out in a wide circle around the barricade.
The ice rose high into the air, encircling the riders, leaving them no way to escape. Within the circle a second wall rose, cutting the riders off from the men inside the barricade.
Ice around the blast site began to reform, leaving an opening just large enough for Elsa to enter. It closed as she passed through.
With a wave of her hand, ice gathered over the enemy soldier's feet, locking them in place. Trapped the men were left with two choices, surrender or die. Most threw down their weapons, the few who resisted were shown no mercy.
Olsen rushed toward her, his usually reserved features broken by a broad smile. Were she not the Queen, he would have been tempted to pull her from the horse into a smothering embrace. "Queen Elsa!"
She brought Vor to a stop before him. "Are you well, Captain?"
He bowed deep. "Yes, ma'am. His smile disappeared as he spied the bandage on her arm. "Do you require medical attention, Your Majesty?"
Elsa's hand went to her side. "No."
His gaze turned to the tree line. "Where is your guard detail, ma'am?"
"Those who survived the battle, suffered grave wounds. Lieutenant Nickolas and Corporal Smyth are seeing to their care."
Grim lines etched his face at the news. "I'm relieved to see you, Your Majesty. When we found the dead atop the mountain, we'd feared the worse."
Elsa's lips eased into a true smile. "Your concern is appreciated, Captain." Her gaze turned to the battlefield. "We haven't time for celebration. This war is far from over. Secure the enemy soldiers. Find their leader, I wish to question him. Make haste, Captain. We need to get back to Arendelle, before Colonel Tollak makes his next move."
"Colonel Tollak, ma'am?"
"Yes, he is the architect of this rebellion. He's working to place Hans on the throne."
Olsen's back stiffened. "I'll get the men ready, ma'am." With a quick bow, he turned and began barking out orders.
Men rushed about to carry them out.
The riders beyond the barricade had offered some resistance. Weary of stupid men, Elsa pressed the ice walls in on them till they were forced into a tight group. Convinced surrender was more acceptable than an icy tomb, they threw down their weapons.
Seated atop Vor, Elsa watched as her men disarmed and secured the enemy troops. She sipped from a canteen. Parched from the long ride down the mountain, she'd been tempted to drain the canteen in one gulp. Years of court training reined in the temptation. The pain in her side had eased into a dull annoyance. Nothing she couldn't handle for the time being. Though she found it difficult to raise her right arm without irritating the wound.
She took a sip of water as Olsen approached. He was followed by three guardsmen. Two of them half led, half dragged a man between them. His hands were bond behind him.
Blood trickled from his nose through the contours of his face to drip from his chin. Dirt and blood stained his shirt. Under one eye the dark onset of a bruise was taking form.
Elsa noted his abuses with a cold indifference. She tilted the canteen up for another sip.
"The last of the enemy troops are secure, Your Majesty." Olsen dipped into a bow before her. He motioned to the prisoner. "This is the second in command of the riders. He claims the leader is dead."
Elsa rested the canteen against the saddle pommel. Her eyes never leaving the man. "What were your orders?"
The man answered in Portuguese, claiming he didn't understand.
His eyes widened when Elsa repeated the question in perfect Portuguese.
"What orders?" He shrugged.
Ice struck the ground at his feet, covering his boots to the ankles. He gasped, trying to raise his feet. They didn't budge.
The guards stepped back, remaining at arm's length.
"I have neither the time nor the patience for games." Elsa's gaze bore through him.
The man's Adam apple, rose and fell with a hard swallow. "I…we were to keep your men busy on the mountain."
"Why?" Frost gathered over the canteen.
"The Colonel didn't want to risk them running into the other raiders."
"You mean, Baron Ulstein's men?" Elsa said.
"Yes."
"What is their mission?"
"I don't…" He squealed as the ice rose to his knees. "I swear, on the Holy Mother, I don't know!" His body trembled against the cold. "They're going to attack a target in town."
"What target?"
"I don't know," He hurried on as Elsa's eyes narrowed. "we weren't told about their mission. My orders were to stop anyone trying to return to town from the mountains. We were told to keep to the Western and Northern roads. The guards there would allow us to pass unchallenged." His teeth began to chatter. "I swear, that's all I know."
Elsa's grip tightened on the canteen. Ice coated the frost.
"My apologies, Your Majesty," Olsen said. "but my Portuguese is lacking, did he say, target?"
"Yes. Baron Ulstein's men are going to attack the town. I suspect they will try to open the fjord gate."
With a flick of her fingers the ice around him vanished. The guardsmen caught the man as he slumped. "Captain, secure the prisoners, then have the men mount up."
"Your Majesty, what of the wounded and dead?"
Elsa's gaze turned to the bodies scattered about. "Leave two able bodied men behind to care for the wounded. The walking wounded can help as needed."
"Yes, ma'am." Olsen waved off the guards. "Secure him with the others."
They drug the man away.
Olsen looked to the third man. "Sergeant, assign two men to help with the wounded. The rest are to make ready to ride within the next ten minutes."
"Yes, sir!" He saluted and hurried off.
Elsa watched as the world turned to controlled chaos. Men hurried about, carrying out her orders. How many of them are going to perish carrying out my orders? She closed her eyes against the thought. They had sworn an oath to protect the kingdom, just as she had. They will do their duty. And I shall do mine.
"Your Majesty?"
She opened her eyes to find Olsen before her, seated upon his horse. There was a hint of concern in his eyes.
"Are you alright, ma'am?"
"I'm fine, Captain." She capped the canteen and hooked it to her saddle. Her mask firmly in place.
He studied her a moment. Whatever doubts he had, he kept to himself. "Do we have any idea how many men have joined Colonel Tollak's rebellion?"
"No." The question caused her a stab of pain. "Coupled with Swart and Ulstien's men it could be several hundred or several thousand. My concern is what Tollak plans to do with them. He's spent the last few months moving them into key positions. I fear they will have the advantage to inflict heavy damage."
"Agreed, ma'am."
The sergeant rode up. "Sir, the enemy is secure, and the men are ready to ride."
"Your Majesty," Olsen looked to her. "the men are tired from the battle. With this heat, the horses will be limited in how fast they can travel."
"Your concerns are noted, Captain. Have the men form up."
"Yes, ma'am." He called them to attention in lines four across.
Elsa moved Vor to stand before them. "Do not move." With a wave of her hands, blue magic engulfed the men.
There was a collective gasp as thin layers of ice coated their clothes. Their breast plates held a thicker layer with Elsa's battle standard and her signature snowflake above it.
Ice frosted over the horse's relieving them from the heat.
"Is that better, Captain?" Elsa asked.
He traced his fingertips over the ice, it didn't rub off. "It's rather…refreshing, ma'am. Thank you."
"Good. Let's go."
"Yes, ma'am." He signaled to the men. They fell in behind their Queen.
0000
Frode sprinted down the hallway, his arms and legs pumping as he strained to move faster. Behind him the thumping of heavy boots drew closer. He didn't think the soldiers had seen him, but he couldn't risk looking back to check. With a leap he dove into a side hallway, slipping into the shadows at the sides of the door.
The boot strikes grew louder. Cocking his head to one side, he heard a lighter tapping approaching ahead of the boots. He eased out till he could see a small sliver of the hallway beyond the door. His breath caught as a green clad figure ran pass.
It looked like Niklas, one of the footmen. Two soldiers, in uniforms he didn't recognize ran pass. He pressed flat against the wall, holding his breath. Their footsteps faded down the hallway. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to breathe again.
In the distance, there was a whoosh, followed by a man's strangled cry. Something heavy dropped to the floor. Fear seized the boy. Before his brain registered what was happening his legs were moving. He ran for the door at the far end of the hallway. Crossing the threshold, he slammed into something solid, yet soft.
He bounced off the object, landing on his back. The object dropped to the floor with a grunt.
Margit sat up rubbing at her shoulder. "Frode! What are…"
A hand clamped over her mouth, smothering her protest. Another cupped the back of her head, so she couldn't pull away.
She glared at the boy.
"Shhhh! They'll hear you." He whispered, looking to the door for any sign of the soldiers.
Margit pulled the hand from her mouth. "Who'll hear me?" She whispered.
"Enemy soldiers. They're in the castle, and they're killing anyone they find."
Margit's eyes grew wide. "Soldiers? Where?"
"That way." He nodded toward the hallway. "I think they killed one of the footmen."
"We need to warn the Guard." She grabbed his shoulder for support as she climbed to her feet.
"I found two of them dead in the hallway leading from the dungeons. I don't know how many are left."
Margit's hands wrung together, twisting the fabric of her gloves. "We need to warn someone."
"There he is!"
From the far end of the hallway, the enemy soldiers charged toward them.
"Run!" Margit hiked up her skirt with one hand and grabbed Frode's hand in a death grip with the other.
The boy ignored the pain in his arm as she yanked him forward.
Hand in hand, they charged blindly down a dim lit hallway.
"Here!" Frode jerked Margit toward him, throwing them against a set of double doors. The door handle didn't budge as he pressed down on it. They bounced off the unyielding doors, clutching to each other for balance.
"Come on." Margit pulled him away, only to find their path blocked by the soldiers.
"Well, what have we here?" One of the men leveled his crossbow at them. He reminded Frode of a tree stump with arms and legs. "Make quick work of the boy, then we can take our time with the girl."
"We don't have time for that." The second soldier leveled his crossbow at the pair.
"We'll make time for it." Tree stump sneered.
Margit pulled Frode behind her, easing back from the men.
"If Prince Hans finds out you stopped to wet your wick, he'll cut it off."
Tree stump shifted at the thought. "He won't have to know."
"I'm not willing to risk it. Let's just kill them and move on. We find that Kai fellow, you'll have enough gold to buy all the girls you want."
"Fine, you take the boy. I'll do the girl."
"Alright." He held the crossbow tight, settling his cheek against the stock to sight in on his target.
"Wait!" Frode stepped forward raising a hand. "I'm Frode Ulstein. My father is Baron Ulstein."
The men looked to each other. Tree stump shrugged. They began to laugh.
"I don't care who your papa is, boy." Tree stump settled his chin on the crossbow stock.
"He's rich. Spare us, and he'll reward you." Frode felt Margit's hand squeeze his.
The men shared a look.
Hope blossomed, only to crash as Frode caught the slight shake of the other guard's head.
"Sorry, boy, no deal." Tree stump's lips curled upward into a creepy smile. "Any last words?"
Margit pulled Frode into a hug, closing her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in the crock of her arm. She began to whisper a prayer.
"Step apart." Tree stump growled.
They held tighter to each other.
"Goddammit!" Tree stump lowered his bow, taking a step forward. "I said, step ap…"
His words died with a heavy metal thud. Tree Stump dropped to his knees. The crossbow slipped from limp fingers. It fired as it struck the floor. The arrow whizzed past Frode to embed in the door behind him.
"What the…?" The second soldier turned to find an older woman, gripping an iron skillet in both hands.
"Gerda!" Margit's joy was crushed as the second soldier turned toward the woman.
She and Frode pounced on the soldier, knocking the crossbow from his hands. It landed point down, dislodging the arrow. Each grabbed an arm, struggling to hold on as the man tossed them about.
Drawing the skillet back, Gerda swung it with all her might at the back of Tree Stump's head. Bone shattered under the blow, driving shards of his skull into the man's brain.
He pitched face first to the floor.
She stood over him, skillet raised, waiting for him to move. He didn't. Certain he was no longer a threat, her attention turned to the second soldier.
An elbow cracked against Frode's cheek. Stars exploded in his field of vision as he dropped to the floor.
Strong fingers locked around Margit's throat, lifting her to her toes as her airway was squeezed closed. She desperately beat her fists against his arm. Kicking out she struck his legs several times with no effect.
Darkness dimmed her vision. Over the ringing in her ears she heard a sickening crack. Something warm splattered her face. The pressure on her throat disappeared. She dropped to her hands and knees, coughing and gasping for air.
Lifted from his feet by a cast iron blow to the face. The soldier landed sprawled upon the floor. He drew a gurgling breath, shuttered, and went still. Glassy eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling.
Frode crawled to him, easing in to push against the man's shoulder. The body rocked before settling. "I…I think he's dead."
Winded from the short battle, Gerda lowered the skillet, letting it hang at her side. Small droplets of blood slipped from the pan, to splatter against the wooden floor. "Good riddance." She took Margit by the arm, helping her to her feet. "Are you alright, dear?" Her eyes swept up and down the girl.
"Yes, ma'am." Her voice was rough from the abuse. She lifted a trembling hand to rub at her bruised throat.
Satisfied the girl was well, Gerda's attention turned to the boy. "What about you, Master Frode?" She took him by the chin turning his face from side to side.
"I'm fine…ma'am."
"You're going to have a nasty bruise come morning." Releasing him, her attention turned to the dead soldiers. "Have you seen any others?"
"No, ma'am." They answered in unison.
"We need to warn the Admiral." Gerda said. "He'll want to know how they got in."
"They came from the tunnel in the dungeon, ma'am." Frode swallowed hard as a firm gaze settled on him.
"What do you know of tunnels, Master Frode?" Gerda's brow arched as she waited for an answer.
"Chamberlain Kai showed me the one in the dungeon. He said, if the castle fell I was to go there and wait for him."
"Well, it would appear the enemy has spoiled that plan." Gerda tsked. "You two go warn the Admiral. I'll see to it the tunnel is secured before they can bring in more soldiers."
"Gerda," Margit touched her arm to stay her. "With all due respect ma'am. We can get there faster.
"No." Gerda shook off the hand. "I'll not send children to face an army."
"What if there are more soldiers in the tunnel?" Frode said. "You can't fight them."
She waved the pan toward the soldiers sending blood flying. "I've done rather well so far, young man."
"Please, Gerda," Margit took her arm in both hands. "Frode and I can go to the tunnels, if there are more soldiers we'll run back and tell the Admiral. If no one's there, we can lock the dungeon doors. That should slow them down."
Every fiber of Gerda's being screamed no. Two of her charges were unaccounted for, she'd no desire to risk anymore under her care.
"Please, ma'am," Margit pressed her. "let us check the tunnels, while you can go warn the Admiral."
Gerda's shoulders slumped. "Do either of you know how to use a rifle or sword?"
"Not really, ma'am." Margit released her with a little shake of her head.
"I do." Frode retrieved a sword from one of the dead soldiers. He swung it, having to use both hands for control. "Princess Anna taught me."
"Of course, she did." A sad smile tugged at Gerda's lips. "Margit, get one of the rifles." She leaned down, setting aside the skillet. Popping open a leather pouch on the closest soldier's belt, she reached in and pulled out a handful of rifle cartridges.
With Frode's help Margit wrestled a rifle from Tree Stump's back.
"Here, take these." Gerda stepped toward her holding out a hand.
Tucking the rifle under one arm, Margit cupped her hands to capture the cartridges. She managed to stuff them into her jacket pocket.
"Help me get the other rifle." Gerda pulled at the dead soldier's jacket as Frode pulled the rifle from beneath him. He handed it to her. "Pay close attention, we don't have time to waste on this."
"Can't I just take one of the crossbows?" Margit held the rifle out as if it were a serpent ready to strike.
"No, you're not strong enough to draw the bowstring, besides, a rifle shot will knock a man off his feet. Now watch." With careful instructions Gerda walked the girl through loading and unloading the rifle.
After a couple of tries, Gerda cocked back the hammer and brought the rifle to her shoulder. "Keep your finger off the trigger, till you're ready to fire. You don't want to accidentally shoot yourself in the foot."
With her lower lip clenched between her teeth, Margit cocked the weapon. She brought it to her shoulder, struggling to find a comfortable position.
"Once it's against your shoulder, point it at what you want to shoot, and pulled the trigger." She mimicked the action. "Hold it tight, or it'll bite you."
"Bite me?"
"Yes, the recoil will get you."
Margit nodded, not really understanding.
"Remember, don't point it at anything you don't want to shoot, and don't touch the trigger till you're ready to fire. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am. I think so."
"Don't try anything fancy. Load it, cock it, point and shoot. Unload and repeat. Alright?"
"Yes, ma'am." There was a lack of confidence in the reply. "How do you know these things, ma'am?"
"A woman should know how to defend herself. She can't sit around waiting for someone else to save her." Gerda eased the hammer down, careful not to let it drop on the firing pin. "Once you get to the dungeons lock the main door, if you can. If not, go the council room. I'll let the Admiral know to keep an eye out for you."
"But what about the ice door in the tunnel?" Frode said.
"You stay out of the tunnels." She wagged a finger at him. "I don't want you getting trapped down there with soldiers roaming about."
"But, we could…"
"I said, no, Master Frode." The steel in her tone, left no room for debate. "You go and check the dungeons, then you get out of there, do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am." He bowed his head, scuffing the toe of a shoe against the floor.
She ran a hand over his hair, with a gentle ruffle. "Off with you now. Be careful."
Each took up their weapon and started down the hall.
Gerda watched till they were out of sight. Closing her eyes, she offered a silent prayer for their safety. It pained her to know there was nothing more she could do for them.
Shaking off the thought her attention turned to the dead soldiers. She stepped to the closest one, bending to dig a handful of cartridges from his pouch. Her eyes drifted to his shattered face.
She'd never killed a man before. Not that the thought hadn't crossed her mind. After learning of the things that Southern Isles dog had done to her girls, she'd given into a fit of rage. It had taken Kai's calming reason and Alma's help to wrestle the meat cleaver from her.
Next time, I'm going to kill the bastard, protocol be damned. She looked the dead man square in the face. "You got better than you deserved." Any hints of guilt or remorse vanished with the thought. She tucked the cartridges into her jacket pocket, stepping away from the man.
Mumbling to herself she started down the hallway. "Invade my home, threaten my staff, my family, my girls…"
My girls. She stopped short. Anna was still in town, and Elsa…her chest tightened at the thought of Elsa. She shook off the thoughts. There was no time for sitting about, wringing her hands over things she couldn't control. She needed to find and protect her people. Once the castle was secure, she'd set about finding her girls.
She hefted the rifle in both hands and started for the council room.