The Ice Storm

Chapter Twenty-four

The Ice Castle was eerily silent tonight, thought Rhoswen. She stood, ill at ease in the main hall as the remaining guards took up positions around the sides. Just like they always did, except this was no ordinary evening for entertainments and stories for the Queen and her Princess to enjoy. In the middle of the vast room stood the Cauldron, an enormous iron relic left over from the days of history. Rhoswen did not know where or when her step-mother had found such a thing, only that it had stood in the hall for many months now, collecting it's magic and power slowly and carefully, guarded and revered by the people. With the magic of this cauldron, a great many boons would come to the folk of the Eighth Kingdom, it was said. Soon, those who had been hidden and forgotten would ride forth over the Kingdoms once more, laying to waste the soft southerners and their foolish customs and beliefs. So said the rumours as they came back to her, and Rhoswen was pleased because many of them she had started herself.

The Cauldron thrummed softly as a draft blew across it's surface. Rhoswen desperately wanted to go closer to the thing, to peer into it's silvery depths. She had not had the opportunity to scry for many days now, for every time she went to the source, there ahead of her was her step-mother Neva. But Neva was not using the magic to scry, rather she was collecting even more of it to add to the Cauldron, thus ensuring the strength of the spell. Rhoswen herself had been called into service by carrying the precious fluid to the hall, to let it run away into the heated silver. There was no time to pry the magic for it's secrets, and she could not afford to have Neva become suspicious of her step-daughters motives, not now when the time must surely be close.

Somewhere, below her feet, Rhoswen knew her prisoner languished still. Rhoswen had taken a great risk to peer in on the woman a few hours ago and had been content to see that Virginia had gone to some lengths to appear perfectly normal. But Rhoswen could not be so easily fooled. The birth process had begun. The tiny room had been flooded with the scents of sweat and labouring. Rhoswen did not envy the woman her painful efforts. She had witnessed births before. A part of her worried that she should have called in a midwife to supervise the birth. But that midwife would have had to be silenced, leaving yet another body lying around for potential discovery. So, it would have to be up to the mother herself to deliver well. She had done it before after all, and she had the other one with her. Wolves cared for their own. Nothing would go amiss, surely.

The tramp of feet intruded on the silence. Those guards that had remained behind to man the walls drew themselves upright as Neva's personal soldiers preceded her into the hall. Rhoswen took a moment to study her step-mother as she was escorted to the central dias below the Cauldron. Neva's skin seemed to hang on her bones, and yet she glowed with power. She had taken far more into herself than Rhoswen had ever dared, and the princess could barely fathom how the old woman still breathed with life. But the eyes, the cold black glitter that scanned the room and seemed to see everything, those were the same as they'd ever been. Rhoswen dipped her head when those eyes swept past her. The dutiful child. It was a role that irked her still, but it was too soon to play her hand. She would have to wait a little yet, till she had the child and a suitable time had passed for the bond to be formed between them. Then, Neva would see her foundlings true strengths. Then, the people would know that the moon-shadow child had been born, their long awaited legend at last!

'Your thoughts. They are scattered this evening, my Princess". Neva's voice grated across the room. Rhoswen tried to hide her racing pulse. What did she know? Was she discovered?

"I am but excited for our people Neva. Tonight is the mid-winter and our magic will be unleashed at last. I confess to my mind being all 'awander. I long to be here and there, to see our men cross the borders at last" she said evenly. Most of it was truth anyway, and she steadfastly pushed all other images from her thoughts.

The silence stretched out between her and Neva before the Queen turned back to the Cauldron. The old woman leant over the rim to peer into the bubbling depths, clucking over it like a proud mother cat with her kittens. As if in response, the silver liquid roiled and churned, as if trying to climb the sides and escape.

"Soon, my sweet, very soon" Neva muttered. Rhoswen dared to approach a little closer.

"Less than an hour, Neva. Less than an hour to mid-winter"

"Yes, I know. And then, this world, and all the others, will be the realm of winter forever"

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It's all going to be ok. I've done this before. Virginia had repeated the phrase over and over so often in the past hours that it seemed like a litany burned on her skin. Across the small cell like chamber, her mates' brother stood uneasily. Willem had given up his pacing some time ago and now he just watched wide eyed as Virginia stuggled with the labour. It had become apparent from the beginning that Will was not as self assured as Wolf had been when it came to birthing. He had been barred from Alices birth by the gypsy clanswomen, according to their customs. Virginia had been waiting for some sort of inner knowledge to bloom in his eyes, for his instincts to guide him in helping her. But neither had happened, and it made Virginia pause in her panicked thoughts to wonder where in the Kingdoms Wolf had learned such things. Or perhaps he'd been bluffing the whole time. He'd let the midwife stand outside the room hadn't he?

Right now, Virginia would have welcomed even that sour faced woman. Virginia was sensible and educated enough to know that things would progress regardless of who attended, but she needed the reassurance of someone calm and competent. Left to her own devices, Virginia feared she would lose control with the pain of it. She could not recall if the labouring of Caelum had been this difficult. Weren't second children supposed to be quicker and easier? Virginia had lost count of the time anyway. It was all she could do to keep a rough count of the seconds between contractions. Contractions that were inevitably drawing closer together.

The next one caught her quicker than she'd hoped. She bent double over the washstand, breathing hard.

"What shall I do?" Will asked for the hundredth time.

"Rub my back?" Virginia said between gasps. His hand was tentative at first, but Virginia welcomed it all the same. "Thankyou Will. It won't be long now, I think. You'll need to make something warm, for the baby when she comes..."

"I have Virginia, see?" Will said, holding up a makeshift wrap. It looked like he'd shredded it from the fur blankets that covered the bed. Virginia didn't recall Will making such a thing, but then her focus was purely inward she reminded herself. She didn't know how clean the blankets were, but she knew they would have to do. The contraction passed after long moments. Sweating profusely, Virginia drew off her long cloak, the same one she had worn all the way from Castle White, and let it fall to the floor. Will stooped to retrieve it. There was a soft chink as something fell out of the pocket and rolled away across the floor. It gleamed like a silver eye in the dim light.

At first the tremor was barely detectable. Virginia might have thought her own body trembled with fatigue, but she soon realised that it was the ground itself that shook. Only so slightly, but it was. She heard Will hiss in alarm.

"What is that?"

"Can you feel it?" Virginia asked him in repsonse. Will nodded and placed his broken hands flat on the icy floor. Something bubbled and crackled in the darkness. It was the dragon scale, seemingly melting away into the floor. Virginia stared at it in amazement. Surely not...

But then in a sudden moment of clarity, Virginia knew the answer. "Something has woken" she whispered, staring at the floor beneath her feet.

"Something is attacking the Palace!" Will shouted at the same time, leaping to his feet. Virginia could all but see his sensitive ears absorbing sounds that she would never be able to detect. "I can hear them, men and wolfs alike. We may yet be rescued Virginia! We may!"

Virginia tried to smile, but it was swallowed up by another gripping pain, this one far worse than any before it. She screamed before she wanted to as a telltale but insistent pressure built up, pushing, forcing it's way free. Images flooded through her clouded mind. She imagined the child as a great powerful creature of old, one now woken and alive, entombed and trapped...plundered...far from the sun and sky.

I am reborn! ... came the thunder in her mind.

Come join with us... sang the moonshadow-child.

There came a sudden wet pressure and Virginia bore down instinctively. The birth waters flowed down to hiss and steam on the cold floor. Her mind filled with stars and for a blindingly bright instant, a full moon seemed to tilt it's massive face down from the heavens to see.

"Lucine help me!" Virginia gasped. Will seemed to realise the situation only at the last second. He left off his listening at the door and leapt towards her. The infant came forth in a great slippery rush and he caught the baby deftly in his arms.

"A girl" he choked. Virginia felt the world sway to and fro. Dimly she was aware of Will quickly tieing off the cord with a shoelace from one of Virginia's worn boots. His hands, so recently shaking, were steady and calm. He bit neatly through the cord, severing the last physical bond between mother and daughter. He held the infant close as he bundled her up in the furs. In spite of their terrible predicament, Virginia could see the broadness of his smile and she knew her own matched it. The baby was staring wide eyed around the room. For a moment Virginia was sure the infant curved her own tiny mouth to smile at her. Will reached out to hand the baby to Virginia, but at that moment there was a roar that sounded like the earth itself was breaking up.

The ground beneath Virginia's feet split asunder. She slid backwards, unable to halt herself as she fell into the abyss. She was dimly aware of someone howling in dismay and loss, and the shrill wail of the newborn...

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Wendell felt his sword had become both a huge weight and yet as easy to wield as a feather. It was an old weapon, rarely drawn since his fathers days and he couldn't help but think that it had waited a long time for battle. He had been the first to reach the drawbridge; a foolhardy move for one so inexperienced and yet he had taken full use of the surprise on the guards faces. He had run his blade through the chest of the first person he'd encountered, wondering in the back of his mind at the sickening simplicity of it, this causing of death to another soul. Had it not been for the rest of his troops sweeping into the fray he might have been spitted where he stood, gaping at the thick red blood that steamed on the end of his blade.

In the minutes since, he'd not had so much time to wallow in his thoughts. Fighters had come from every direction. Though it seemed that the Palace was indeed bereft of the majority of it's soldiers, those remaining were not necessarily the weaker or the older.

Metal clashed with metal all around him. The cries of men in both triumph and in death, the low growls and snarls of fighting wolves. The sounds of battle as they had always been heard and written about by the victors of such terrible things. Wendell's troops were small in number, but they gained the gate within minutes, scrabbling across the slick wood surface to pass through the half open porticullis. The servants of the Ice Palace gave no resistance in themselves, falling back within the walls to allow the guards through.

Wendell slipped in blood and went down heavily on his side. A great brute of a guard bore down on him, raising his massive lance. Wendell struck out with his sword but it only glanced at the warriors iron clad boot. Wendell felt as if the whole world had slowed and come to a focus on that deadly lance tip that was being aimed at his heart. I'm dead, he thought. It was a calming sensation, not at all what he had expected. The warrior closed on him, the spear came down, and... the air exploded with noise. Wendell had never heard anything so loud in his life. The soldier above him was jerked backwards as if hit by an invisible arrow. Blood spurted from his chest as he fell backwards like a tree.

A strong hand gripped Wendell by the arm, hauling him upright. He felt dizzy and his ears rang with irritation. Several of the wolves also stood as if entranced by the sound.

"Are...you...okay?" Someone was whispering, no, shouting in his ear. Tony. In his former manservant's hand was a small black object. Wendell had never seen anything remotely like it, yet he knew that it was this thing, this tiny thing held in a trembling hand that had made that noise. A conversation came back to him. It's no good thing I carry, but it will do you no harm, I promise. Wendell looked at the downed soldier, then back to Tony. The older man smiled grimly and made a gesture to the stunned wolves and guards.

"It's, like a magic arrow, you know? I won't let it hurt you, but it'll make a lot of noise"

"But..." Wendell stammered as the fighting resumed once more around him.

"Come on Wendell!" Tony shouted at him. "Put up that fancy sword of yours!"

"But..."

"I'm not that good of a shot with this thing! I'm a janitor you know!"