VII
"Are you sure it's a good idea to have him with us?"
"There may be nine winter wolves running around out here," Crispin said, trudging through the knee deep snow that had accumulated on the Timber Road. "We need anyone we can get right now."
"But… he's a goblin," Talia said, glancing furtively over her shoulder at the diminutive raider following a few yards behind the two humans. When they had found Rachwal the previous morning, the mage had been certain that Crispin at the least would not offer the goblin a chance to travel with them, and had almost expected the ranger to kill the little humanoid on the spot. "I thought you of all people would know better than to trust a goblin."
"And he thought I of all people should know better than to allow a woman an equal voice in things," Crispin added. Talia opened her mouth, ready to deliver an indignant retort, but the ranger continued before she could speak "Look, you don't like it, I'm not really happy with it, and I know he doesn't like it. But three of us stand a better chance than two of us, especially when one of us just got her first combat experience two days ago."
"You're not going to let me forget that, are you?" Talia asked, turning dismal at the recollection of her first battle.
"Not for a long time, at any rate," Crispin confirmed with a faint, almost condescending smile for his companion. Talia returned the gesture with a thoroughly false smile of her own, then looked back again to Rachwal. With shorter legs and more trouble handling the deep snow, the goblin had finally given Talia enough space to ask about his inclusion in the group, but for the entire previous day, Rachwal had remained oblivious to her desire for privacy of any sort to study her spellbook. Crispin had explained that goblins had almost no concept of privacy and that Rachwal was not being consciously intrusive, but the mage still nearly ended up shoving a magic missile down the nosy little raider's throat. "Relax," Crispin said, seeing Talia's constant glances to their newest ally. "Get back behind me, so you don't wear out so fast. I promise I'll let you break trail in an hour or so. In the meantime, Rachwal's not going to shoot you in the back."
"I can't believe we've sunk to trusting a goblin," Talia muttered, reluctantly falling into place behind the ranger and pulling her arms deeper within her heavy cloak. "When are we going to reach Falloux?"
"About three hours, hopefully," Crispin answered. "Why don't you talk to Rachwal a little? Maybe you can ask him if his people are bringing the snowstorms."
"That's very funny," Talia said sarcastically. The mage glanced over her shoulder again, taking stock of the goblin for the tenth time since she had met him. Talia had expected Rachwal to be rude, crass, inattentive, and cowardly, more likely to have his finger jammed up his broad, flat nose than his eyes on the forest around him, but the Cold Tooth raider was proving almost all of the stereotypes she had ever heard about goblins wrong. Rachwal kept his bow loosely in hand and his quiver in easy reach, and his yellow eyes scanned each tree carefully for some sign of an ambush. As the mage tried to puzzle out the goblin's actions, Rachwal looked up to her, nothing but cold indifference on his face as he met her dark eyes. Quickly Talia turned back to the road ahead of her, trying to avoid the goblin's almost unsettling gaze.
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They were forcing him west. They had to be.
Emeri glanced back to the forest behind him, trying again to figure out a way past what seemed to be a picket line of winter wolves. For over a day the howls of his enemies had driven him steadily southwest, forcing him to sleep only a few minutes at any one time and to go without fire during the long, bone chilling night. Now, cold and exhausted, having already been in the saddle for almost a day and a half without rest, and still wounded by the loss of his entire squad, the Lancer tried to figure out a way back to Mattin or Montcalm. Unfortunately, and despite the fact that new snowfall during the night had helped to obscure his tracks, the winter wolves seemed to know his plans, and were ready to foil him at every turn.
Slowly Emeri reached into his saddlebag, and pulled out a well worn map of the southwest region of Tourant. The Lancer's original idea had been to head north, cut around behind the wolves, and then continue east to Mattin, but the wolves seemed to sense it every time he tried such a tactic. Three times he had moved north, but each time he had only gone less then a mile before the baying of the wolves forced him to turn southwest again. His next option had been to reach the town of Sauveterre, only a dozen or so miles to the northwest, but it soon became apparent that his canine pursuers were outflanking him to the north. At this point, the Lancer could not tell if the wolves' tactics were nothing more than a simple malicious game, or if they were forcing him into a trap of some sort. Winter wolves were known to have an almost human intelligence, as well as a notably sinister streak to their demeanors. During the early days of the kingdom, when the frontier was considered to be the town of Montcalm rather than Falloux and Sauveterre, woodsmen and rangers had told stories of winter wolves chasing lone travelers for days, or even weeks, simply to enjoy the victim's fright before closing in for the kill. If the stories were true, and if that was what these wolves planned to do, Emeri would be damned if he was going to give them the fear that they so desired.
The Lancer pored over the map for a moment longer, finally finding an apparent hole in the wolves' plan. To the southwest lay Falloux, a small logging community at the end of the Timber Road. While the village might only have a handful of actual militia, loggers in southwest Tourant were a hearty, durable sort, able to stand against harsh elements and spring goblin raids with stoic determination. Emeri judged the distance on the map, deciding that he could reach Falloux by nightfall if he pushed his mount. With the wolves coming at him from north and east, he would likely not meet up with anything in his way. If he was lucky, the wolves would not discover their mistake until they ran headlong into a score of angry, axe wielding woodsmen. With his course set and a new determination in his mind, Emeri turned his horse southwest and spurred it to a gallop, charging through the heavy snow in his race for Falloux.
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"That's it. That's Falloux."
"Thank the gods," Talia said, breathing a sigh of relief as she finally caught sight of the town of Falloux. Although it was far smaller than Montcalm, all Talia cared about for the moment was the warm fire and hot tea that awaited her at the local inn. Without a second thought the mage hurried around Crispin and pushed her way through the snow, heading for the center of town in her rush to escape the numbing cold. Crispin started after the mage for only a few steps, his desire to get to the inn tempered by something that he could not quite place at first. Rachwal moved up next to him, his bow still in hand and an arrow ready to fly. For a long moment the ranger and the goblin stood in the knee deep snow, staring into the town as what little light remained in the leaden sky disappeared to the west.
"You see it too?" Crispin asked without looking to his far smaller companion.
"No smoke," the goblin said quietly. Crispin nodded.
"It's freezing out, there's almost two feet of snow on the ground, and not a single chimney is smoking," the ranger agreed. "I don't even smell any wood burning."
"Your people leave?" Rachwal asked. Crispin shook his head.
"Not very likely," the ranger answered, drawing an arrow of his own and starting cautiously into the settlement. Talia, halfway to the two story, wood and stone inn that sat in the center of the town, stopped in the middle of the empty, unmarked street as she noticed her companions' anxiety.
"What… what's wrong?" the mage asked, seeing the pair's ready stances and taut bowstrings. "Crispin? What's going on?"
"Stay close, Talia," Crispin said simply, taking a few cautious steps into the town. Slowly the ranger scanned the deep snow, but only Talia's tracks marred the white expanses between the buildings. Although heavy shutters covered the windows, not even a glimmer of light from a lantern or fire escaped around the edges of the wooden boards. Even though Falloux likely held over two hundred residents, not a single sound broke the eerie silence but for the crunch of snow beneath the travelers' feet. Slowly Crispin edged forward through the snow, expecting a winter wolf to leap from the rapidly darkening alleys between the sturdy cabins at any moment. Just a few paces behind him, Talia remained silent as she began to pick up on the lack of noise or light from any of the cabins or the inn, while Rachwal began to drift out to the ranger's left to examine a small, almost imperceptible rise in the snow near the front door of one home.
Crispin stopped as he drew even with the inn, staring curiously at a long rise along the side of the two story building. The snow in the alley alongside the inn seemed to be piled almost four feet higher than the snow in the street, reaching almost to the top of a door along the side of the tavern. With an arrow still drawn, Crispin cautiously started forward again, inching toward the inn's door.
"Human," Rachwal called out suddenly. Crispin spun on the goblin, but Rachwal was staring down at a patch of cleared snow. Quickly the ranger made his way over to the raider, Talia keeping close on his heels. As the two reached their ally, Crispin stopped, shaking his head at the sight.
"My… what happened to…" Talia stammered, unprepared for the goblin's find. Half curled into a fetal position, frozen solid and buried under two feet of snow, Rachwal had uncovered the body of a young woman, still clutching her year old child in her arms.
"Talia, why don't you… go watch the road for… anything," Crispin said quietly, biting back his own revulsion at the sight. Talia remained rooted to the spot, her eyes locked in horror on the corpses until Crispin moved in front of her. "Talia."
"Win… winter wolves?" the mage asked, nauseous.
"Probably," Crispin answered, gently leading his companion away from the bodies. Rachwal began to follow the two, but Crispin shot the goblin a harsh warning glance to keep his distance. Talia took one step, then nearly fell to the ground as her knees buckled. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I… I'll be all right," Talia answered, closing her eyes and leaning against the ranger for a moment for support. "I… I just need a minute."
"Why don't you keep watch on the road," Crispin suggested a second time. "Me and Rachwal'll check the inn and the houses. If you see anyone on the road, let us know about it."
"I… I'll be okay," Talia said.
"I know," Crispin said, putting an arm around her shoulder and guiding her back toward the Timber Road. "But we need someone to make sure the winter wolves don't sneak up on us. Okay?"
"Crispin, I…" Talia started. She hesitated for a long moment, then continued. "I don't want to be alone."
"Okay," Crispin said, fully understanding the mage's fear. "All right. We'll go into the inn. You stay right at the door. Is that good enough?"
"Yeah," Talia answered, relieved. Crispin turned back to the settlement, allowing Talia to walk on her own again as he headed for Rachwal. The goblin had begun to follow the pair, but stopped and waited patiently for them to return to the center of the street.
"Is your woman ill?" Rachwal inquired, speaking in goblin.
"She's fine," Crispin answered, using Rachwal's language. "She does not find many bodies under snow."
"She is a woman," Rachwal said. "She should not be here. This is man's work."
"Let it go," Crispin said irritably, finally switching back to Tourant. Talia glanced from the ranger to Rachwal, but neither one seemed ready to explain their brief conversation to her. "Talia, wait at the door," Crispin directed. "Rachwal, let's check the inn."
The goblin nodded, and edged up to the door with his bow at the ready. Talia backed away a couple of steps as Crispin slowly placed his hand on the door, and pushed it open. The door only creaked forward a quarter of the way before it thumped into something lying on the floor. Inside, the common room remained dark and silent, but the ranger could make out two or three indistinct shapes in the murky darkness.
"Crispin, give me your dagger," Talia said, tapping the ranger's arm. "I can make a light for you."
Crispin nodded and pulled one of his knives from his belt, handing it over to Tali as she drew a pinch of faintly glowing moss from her belt pouch. With a single word and a touch to the blade, the dagger began to emit a bright light, shining like a torch in the gloom and illuminating the common room of the inn. Slowly Crispin and Rachwal inched into the building, leaving Talia waiting anxiously just outside the door.
The common room of the inn was strewn with splintered, rough hewn wooden furniture, evidence of a terrible fight. Blood had been splattered across one of the walls just above a pair of mangled loggers, their axes still clutched in their frozen hands. The innkeeper had been ripped open from his waist to his chin, and his blood had long since frozen on the narrow bar where he had slumped down against the counter. A final person, a barmaid that might have been sixteen, had tried to run for the side door into the alley, but she had ended up impaled on a wall of brambles and thorns. Nothing but cold ashes and a small piece of charred wood remained in the large hearth, but a neat stack of firewood had been left next to the stone fireplace.
"Winter wolves do not do this," Rachwal said quietly, still tense and ready for an ambush. Crispin nodded as he moved forward, making his way to the unfortunate innkeeper. The ranger appraised the dead man's wounds for a long moment, focusing on the single wound that had slain him. Finally, he turned back to the goblin as Rachwal pulled a pair of leather pouches from the necks of the slain loggers. The raider looked up to see Crispin's angry glare, but did not seem overly concerned.
"They will not need gold where they are going," Rachwal stated. Crispin thought of arguing the mere fact that he was looting the dead, but such a debate would achieve nothing useful. Satisfied that he had made his point, Rachwal continued his search of the unfortunate loggers for any valuables.
"Let's move these bodies," the ranger said, sticking his dagger into the wooden bar to illuminate the room. "We can put them in the kitchen."
"Why?" Rachwal asked, turning back from his examination of something on one of the loggers' hands.
"Because Talia does not like bodies," Crispin answered curtly. "Your looting can wait."
Rachwal shook his head in mild disgust, but threw his arms around one of the mauled loggers and fought to drag the heavy body across the floor. Crispin examined the clean, vertical slash that had slain the innkeeper for another second, then carefully lifted the body off of the floor and carried it into the kitchen and laid it gently in the corner. Panting and cursing in goblin, Rachwal heaved himself forward and dumped the logger in the center of the small room.
"Crispin!" Talia suddenly shouted. The ranger turned and shoved Rachwal out of the way as the goblin kicked the dead logger in the side, hurrying out into the common room. Talia stood just inside the door, trying to keep her eyes from the bloodstains or the two remaining corpses. The mage continued quietly, distracted by the badly mutilated corpses in the common room. "There's… there's a rider coming down the road."
"A rider?" Crispin repeated, pulling his bow off of his shoulder as he moved past the mage and into the snow. Standing in the middle of the road at the edge of town on his horse, a single man peered through the darkness, the tip of his lance pointing skyward. As Crispin appeared in front of the inn, the rider carefully started forward, dipping his lance slightly in readiness for combat.
"Who are you?" the rider called out, his voice all too familiar to the ranger.
"It's me, Emeri," Crispin replied, taking a few steps forward as he lowered his bow.
"Crispin?" Emeri repeated. The Lancer spurred his horse forward, quickly covering the distance to the ranger. "What happened here? Where is everyone?"
"I don't know for sure, but I think winter wolves killed everyone here," Crispin answered. "Either that, or everyone left in a hurry."
"How could winter wolves kill everyone in Falloux?" Emeri asked, looking around the deserted settlement. "There had to be over two hundred people here!"
Where's the rest of your patrol?" Crispin asked, glancing back up the road. Emeri hesitated for a moment, his eyes dropping to the snow covered ground.
"They're all dead," the Lancer finally answered. "Except maybe for Fleury."
"Winter wolves?" Crispin guessed.
"Winter wolves," Emeri confirmed. The two were silent for a moment, considering the information.
"Come on," Crispin finally said. "Let's get inside and get a fire going."