Crossing
The next morning greets them cold and unforgiving, and so does the sharp voice of Gorm who was last on watch and the one responsible for the wakeup call. "Come on people! The sun is about to rise, and we can't afford to lose any daylight. If you are not up in five minutes I will show a fistful of snow down your trousers. It would be fun to see any of you try to sleep through that!"
The threat of cold snow is enough to get all of them moving to start the day. Matthias shivers when whomever it was that had huddled down next to him in the night to preserve warmth moves away and a rush of freezing cold air replaced them. He staggers to his feet, pulls his cloak tight and tucks his hands firmly underneath his armpits before moving around to get some warmth back into his limbs.
The weather is possibly even more miserable than the day before, with the wind howling loudly, tearing at the trees and with the snow flurrying about them. Gorm has kept the fire burning strongly during his guard and they are all grateful for the heat it now provides. A pot is bubbling over the flames, and he stirs it slowly, mouth drawn tight in a grim line. "You all better eat breakfast and eat as much as you can manage. When we start walking, there will be no stopping until we're across that field, so enjoy the last hot meal for a while. You are going to need the energy."
Tino jumps up and down on the spot, breath coming out in white fog. "It's going to be one long, cold, miserable day," he says. "Gods, I hope the horses will survive the journey across."
"If they die, they die," Trym mutters darkly as he rubs his arms. "It's going to be a lot more miserable if we don't find the mountain pass once we cross. If the winds are this strong on the other side, I will have a hard time finding the path."
"We all know that Trym!" Vilje complains loudly, scratching at the scar on her face. "You told us that already. Wouldn't it be smarter to try to keep our spirits up? Let us walk out there with some hope to help keep us warm along the way and not a whole lot of doom and gloom hanging over our heads."
"Let's not start arguing" Tino interrupts weakly. "I went out on those plains yesterday and I came back with no trouble. We just have to work together and keep each other safe, and we will be just fine."
Trym grunts incomprehensively in response, and Gorm sighs as he pours the bubbling stew into bowls and hands out one to each of them. He then makes sure to divide all the leftovers among them so not a single drop will go to waste.
Matthias accepts the bowl gratefully and enjoys the heat seeping into his fingers for a moment before he begins eating. He sighs in content as the warmth settles in his stomach, chasing some of the worst shivers away. Sunrise is almost upon them and twilight is painting the sky in pinks and reds.
"Hurry up people, finish your food, pack your stuff," Gorm commands impatiently after a while. "Daylight is wasting. Berwald, Tino, you two get those horses ready." He stands up abruptly, lights a torch on the fire and begins kicking snow over the flames, making them hiss angrily and release a cloud of steam before it dies down. "Trym, get some more torches ready. We'll keep one burning at all times and light more when it turns dark. Matthias and Vilje, you two can make sure we are not leaving anything behind."
Matthias shovels down the rest of his stew and ignores how it burns his tongue and throat. The others do the same, judging from the winces let out as they hastily chow down on their food. They then pack down all their things, still chewing and thoroughly shaking the blankets free of snow before stuffing them into their packs. Somewhere between the trees, a branch cracks and Matthias stops all his movement to listen. Remembering Lukas' words in the night he feels as if there are eyes all around them, watching their every step.
"Are you alright?" Tino asks gently just behind him, and Matthias startles so bad he drops the pack on the ground. A worried expression makes its way to Tino's face.
"Did you hear that?" Matthias asks and points in between the trees where he thought the sound came from. He has no idea whether or not he is paranoid or actually heard something.
"It must have been some animal or just the snow falling of the branch" Tino replies somewhat loudly and with a surprising amount of cheer that does not match his expression. He then leans down to pick Matthias' fallen backpack and hides his face behind the movement and whispers: "I haven't seen anybody, but I think we might be under watch. Pretend as if nothing is wrong. If our watchers realize we know about them, they might attack now before we have a chance to get out on the plain where we can lose them in the snow. I told Berwald already as we got the horses ready, I'll let Trym know right now and then we'll get out of here." Tino pats him on the back and stands up. "Don't worry," he continues in the same loud tone. "When you are out in the wilderness this long, you'll start seeing things. It'll be better when we reach civilization again."
Tino turns away, smiling brightly, but Matthias sees the tension of worry around his jaw. He continues over to Trym and makes overly loud conversation. Now that he knows to look for it, he sees Tino's whisper a few words in between their sentences, and he sees Trym strain to keep his expression neutral as he realizes the potential threat.
Matthias dusts snow off his pack and hauls it up on one shoulder. His heart still beats madly in his chest, and he fights down the urge to reach for the plain axe he carries in his belt. Knowing that the spies were close was one thing; getting confirmation of just how close is completely different. He wonders to himself why they have not attacked yet. An ambush in the night would have been their best chance of catching them and the last one they might have in days. That makes Matthias wonder if there might just be one person lurking out there, waiting for the rest of the group to catch up. Alternatively, if they are all there, they are waiting for one of them to split from the rest of the party to pluck them off one by one. He dreaded to think about it.
Berwald walks over to him with two horses led by the reins. His normally impassive face scrunches in worry as he stares after Tino and occasionally glances towards the trees. Matthias catches his gaze and nods discreetly to let Berwald know that he is aware of the possible danger. He hauls his backpack up the horse and secures it while Berwald holds the reins. "Don't worry about him," Matthias whispers as he pretends to fumble with the straps so he can hide his face. "He's not going out alone, not when we suspect there might be somebody watching us. He'll be fine."
Berwald only grunts in response and Matthias is not sure how to interpret that and just lets it go.
The rest of the group seems to be getting ready quickly now. They are all packing as much gear as they can on the horses and only carrying smaller items for themselves to preserve their own strength and use the horses for what they are worth. Once that is done, they work on securing their clothing for the coming weather.
Matthias wraps a scarf around his head and face and places a knitted hat on top to secure it. He also makes sure there are no gaps between the scarf and the jacket. He only leaves a narrow opening in the scarf for his eyes so he can see the path ahead but not much more unless he turns his entire head. After he pulls on his mittens, he wraps twine over them to secure them and hinder snow from sneaking in under them.
They all wrap up firmly in every single item of winter clothing they own, the only thing showing is their eyes. They gather at the edge of the forest, just staring out into the raging snow as if it is going to tear them all to shreds the moment they step out from the trees. Trym steps in front of them all as the most experienced in the wilderness and pulls down the scarf covering his face to speak. "Well, this is it people," he says gravely. "This is going to be a tough day for all of us, so let's go over the plan one last time. We're going to keep walking until we reach the foot of the mountain, not stopping unless we absolutely have to. You are going to lead your horse and walk next to it not in front; it will provide you with some relief from the wind, and we will not be riding. If we are to save any of the horses, then we will have to walk. If a horse goes down, then alert the rest of us and we will redistribute the gear and we will keep going. We're going to leave the animal behind, no questions asked and no arguments, Understood?"
There is a bit of uneasy shuffling between the rest of them. Vilje looks distraught at the idea of losing the animals as she absently scratches the side of her horse in comfort, quietly whispering to it. Then there is a gruff "understood!" from Gorm and he stares commandingly at them all, daring them to disagree.
"Do not lose sight of each other out there, now let's go!" Trym squares his shoulders and steps first out on the plains. The rest of them follow.
The moment the trees are gone, the wind whips angrily at them, forcing them to brace themselves against it or get knocked over. The horses toss their heads in discontent, tugging on the leads to get away before they accept their fate, and follow their leaders out on the plain. The snow is like a swarm of tiny needles, stabbing at any exposed skin on their faces. The torch Gorm carries with him flickers and threatens to die immediately but he manages to shield it long enough for the small flame to pick up again.
The snow reaches up to their knees and every step is a struggle. Matthias's teeth clatter but he keeps on trudging. He keeps looking at Tinos back, occasionally turning back to check that Berwald is still in sight behind him. They walk on for hours. Morning turns into day and then it turns back into evening, and they stop long enough to hand out a torch for each of them. Soon the last trace of daylight is gone and the only light they have is the flickering torches.
Two hours after sunset, Matthias hears loud swearing from the front of the group and he rushes past Tino to see what has happened.
It is something they all feared would happen Eventually. Vilje's horse has keeled over, exhausted and frozen. Her torchlight has flickered out and she is sobbing in the darkness. The animal is not moving, and she is kneeling next to it in the snow, stroking its fur. Up ahead, Gorm is the one swearing up a storm and yelling for Trym to wait up for a few minutes.
Matthias returns to Tino and forces the reins for his own horse into his hand. He then hurries up to Vilje and forces her up from where she is kneeling in the snow. Away from the shelter of the horse, the wind is merciless and threatens to knock him over. It howls and tears at his clothing and the torch flickers ominously. "We don't have time for this!" He wants to be kind to Vilje as she is clearly distraught, but the wind forces him to yell to be heard, and he can see the tears streaming down her face. "Get up, go stand beside Tino. We'll repack and we move on. Come on." Her movement is slow, and he has to drag her up and send her stumbling towards Tino.
Tino is pale, but he accepts responsibility and starts speaking softly to her in comfort. Berwald catches up with them as well. He gives his reigns and torch to Vilje who numbly accepts them but continues to stare blankly at the dead horse. He then trudges through the snow up to Matthias.
Together they undo the straps keeping the packs tied to the horse. A sharp gust of wind snuffs the light of Matthias's torch, and he curses loudly as the darkness shrouds them further. "We'll relight that torch when you have repacked everything," Trym screams over the wind from where he and Gorm are watching. "Just hurry and get what you can, we need to keep moving! We are going to freeze to death if we stand still too long."
They haul up the heavy packs and drag them back to their own horses where they can redistribute weight between the remaining animals. Matthias takes one extra pack for himself and Berwald does the same, not having the conscience to put it all on the poor horses they have left. Now that one horse has fallen, it is not unlikely the rest will follow if they continue for much longer.
Matthias then returns to the dead horse to find his torch as they cannot afford to waste resources. Vilje's lies on the ground covered in snow, completely unsalvageable at this point and leaves it be. He returns to the others and lights his torch on Tino's. He gives it to Vilje so that she has a task to focus her mind on. Then he takes the reigns for his horse from Tino, ready to move again. He gently pushes Vilje to walk right in front of him and in the slight shelter from the horse.
Trym nods in approval as he sees they are ready and turns around to continue. "Let's go!" he yells and so they march on.
Their steps feel heavier now that the first victim of their march lies abandoned in the snow behind them, and the wind howls a little louder to welcome the night proper.
Matthias did make an attempt to brush away most of the snow gathered on his clothes while they repacked, but some of it has managed to melt into his mittens, making them soggy and uncomfortably cold as he holds the reigns. His knees have also taken a hit of snow as he knelt down to help Vilje up, and more water had seeped into fabric of his pants.
His thoughts wander back to easier days as they walk as a way to pass the time. Back to a time before the soldiers ever showed up back in Griven and when his life was so much easier. He suddenly misses his mother greatly, her gentle voice and warm embrace and the gentle smell of flowers that used to follow her. How she always promised that everything would be okay eventually when the days were hard. He misses their small plot of land, lazy days in the summer sun and even the hard work of harvest season.
He has no idea of how long they have walked but out of nowhere, he begins feeling comfortably warm and relaxed. The pinpricks of pain in his fingers as replaced with gentle warmth. The wind does not seem so cold anymore and the snowflakes hitting his face do not burn so much when they hit his skin. The torches moving ahead of him are nice and calming, like fireflies dancing on a late summer night.
In his mind, he is lying in a field of grass with the sun high in the sky, heat on his skin and grass tickling his bare arms. Somewhere a bird chirps and the wind gently rustles the leaves. He has his eyes closed and face aimed towards the sun, soaking up the rays until a shadow appears to block it. He opens his eyes to find out what it is and meets with a dark blue gaze and familiar passive face way closer than he expected. "Damnit Lukas," he sighs and moves his face a bit to the side and out of Lukas' shadow. He closes his eyes again to enjoy the warmth on his face for a while longer. "I thought you said you couldn't help me anymore. Can't you just let me have some peace and quiet for once?"
Lukas flicks his nose, and Matthias wrinkles it in annoyance and opens his eyes again to bat away the offending hand, but he misses. "I said there was little I could do, not nothing," Lukas laughs and lays down in the grass beside him. He is leaning on his arms and tilting his face towards the sun as well and Matthias is stunned at the sight. "I'm not real you know." Lukas continues. "This is all in your mind; I cannot control what goes on here."
"You have controlled my dreams before," Matthias defends quickly. "The very first night after the soldiers attacked. You warned me in a dream."
"What you saw that time was only a shadow and you heard an echo of my voice in warning. If I could control dreams this well, why would I not have done it properly back then? I am here now only because you want me to be." Lukas smiles gently and genuinely in a way that softens his face, and Matthias cannot stop staring. It is not something he ever expected to see in Lukas, and it hurts to think it might just all be fantasy, so he ignores those words.
Lukas then leans towards him and brushes away a few strands of hair from Matthias' face. "You're smiling." Matthias says and smiles back. "It's kind of nice; you should do it more often."
Matthias frowns when the light around them grows dimmer over the course of only a few seconds and he sits up in the grass and pushes Lukas aside and back into the grass. Big clouds have gathered from nowhere turning the sky dark grey above them. They grows denser every second, and a freezing wind makes him shiver. "Where did all the sun go? Why is it so cold all of a sudden?"
Lukas smiles again and takes Matthias' hand before he tilts his head back to the black sky as if nothing has chanced. "It was never warm to begin with," he says simply. "You know where you are, just search your mind and you will remember."
Matthias thinks for a moment and memory floats back to him. Snowflakes drift from the black skies above them. They land in Lukas' hair and clump in his eyelashes. He sits completely still, still smiling as if he does not even notice. Around them, the grass freezes and withers and the birds stop singing. "I was walking in the snow," he mutters. "Gods it was cold. I would rather stay here."
"Do you know the stages of freezing to death?" Lukas asks lightly. Matthias does not have time to reply before Lukas continues. "I know you do, because I am about to remind you. The first step is shivering, when your body struggles to get warm on its own. It is painful, but there is still not overly dangerous. The next step is when the shivering stops, and your body attempts to preserve what little warmth is left and it cannot even expend energy on shivering anymore. Usually, it is too late by that point, but people do say it is a pleasant way to go. In the end, you cannot even feel the cold anymore and you just fall asleep."
"You think I'm freezing to death?" Matthias asks tamely.
"I am a figment of your imagination and based on your own thoughts. It is more like you are the one thinking that. You just chose me to tell you."
"So, you are really just a dream then?"
Lukas does not reply. He leans over Matthias as they sit next to each other. Their faces are almost touching, and they are close enough that Matthias can feel the chill of him. Their hands are still touching, and Matthias lifts it to push up one of the sleeves to see his bare arms. The glowing blue lines are nowhere in sight and Matthias feels a lump in his throat and tells himself that the real Lukas never would act this way, talk freely and touch voluntarily.
Lukas smiles sadly at him and pushes Matthias' hands away. He leans in and his lips touches Matthias' in a gentle kiss. Matthias sighs and closes his eyes to enjoy it, but it is over too soon and cold creeps into his skin from where their lips touches and further into his bones, making him shiver. "I am sorry to tell you that the only thing real here is the cold." Lukas whispers in his ear. "The warmth you felt was dangerous; you needed a reminder not to get lost in comfort. Accept the cold. You need to feel everything so you can get back to the real world. You have to keep going out there. You will reach your destination soon. I believe in you; you just have to keep fighting."
The cold spreads through his body and it burns. He draws a sharp breath that stings his lungs, and the fantasy evaporates before him. The field is gone, Lukas is gone and all he can see is the snow whirling in his face and the faint light from the torches ahead. His fingers and toes burn painfully, and the shivers almost bring him to his knees. He let out a pained sob as the reality of pain in his frozen limbs hit him.
"Matthias?" There is a hand on his arm, and he recognizes Vilje's voice, barely audible above the howling wind. He turns to look at her and worry is painting her face plain as day. "Can you hear me? I've been trying to talk to you," she yells, and he tries to nod in reply, but his limbs are so slow they barely respond.
"I'm so cold," he mutters out with clattering teeth.
Vilje curses violently. "Listen to me, we need to keep walking, you can't stop."
"I know that" Matthias replies weakly. It is a struggle to put one foot in front of the other to keep walking.
Another person comes up to them, but Matthias barely notices. "Are you two alright?" Berwald rumbles. "I heard swearing."
"He just wasn't responding" Vilje says hysterically. "I was so scared. He's been quiet for hours; I just thought he was focused on walking, but now he is acting all weird, talking to himself and stumbling."
"Calm down," Berwald says to Vilje and then he places a hand on Matthias head to lift his gaze so he can look him in the eyes. "Matthias, are you with us now?"
"I think I am" the words are thick and slurred, heavy on his tongue. "How long have we been walking?"
"Most of the night by now. What is the last thing you remember?"
"I was in e field; it was so nice and warm there." He closes his eyes for a moment and tries to conjure up the memories again.
"We have to get you warmed up." Berwald says sharply. He takes Matthias's bag from him and shoulders it for himself.
Then there is a yell from the front of the group. "The terrain is becoming steeper; we should reach the base of the mountain soon. Just a little while longer to go!"
"I can't believe the timing!" Vilje shrieks. "You hear that, Matthias?" We should be there soon. You can do this. We'll find a place to camp, start a fire, get you warmed up, and eat a hot meal. Let me take the reins, you just focus on walking alright?" She gently takes them from his frozen fingers, and he lets her. He has a difficult enough time focusing on his feet.
The terrain does indeed become steeper, and a shadow rises before them all, barely visible through the snow, the mountains they were hoping to reach. Tino runs past them. "I will help Trym and Gorm find us some shelter. Just hold on." He must have caught on to the fact that Matthias was in trouble as well at some point and is now rushing to find them a good shelter.
He returns a while later without his horse and bags. "We found a cave. Well sort of. We should be able to fit us all if we leave the horses outside and that's the most important thing. The others are working on a fire, come on." Tino takes over the reins from Berwald so he can help keep Matthias up and moving.
The terrain becomes rougher and steeper. Jagged rocks begin replacing frozen grass. Tino turns to the right and walks parallel to the mountain on their left. The wind finally lessens, and the snow slows down. Matthias stumbles, but Berwald is quick to catch him before he can fall and hauls him along. He mumbles incoherently in an attempt at an apology.
The cave turns out to be more of a niche between some large boulders and just a slight overhang of rock, but it does provide some shelter from the wind. Trym, Gorm and Tinos horses stand on the outside, secured to a boulder and huddling together for warmth and blocking the shelter even more from the wind. Further in Trym Is struggling to get a few twigs to catch fire with his torch. A pile of firewood lays ready by his feet. Gorm is emptying his packs sending pots and pans clanging to the ground along with food and clothes, searching for something.
"Bring him in here, quickly" Trym barks loudly. "But be careful not to jostle him too much, we need to warm him up but slowly or it'll kill him. "Vilje secure those horses, the rest of you, get out the blankets from your bags. Fill up the pot with snow and chop up some vegetables; we need to warm up some food. Also, get the wet clothes of him and find something dry for him to wear. Is everybody else alright?"
Everybody responds and hurries to do their appointed tasks, barely taking the time to confirm that they are indeed fine though exhausted, hungry and chilled.
Berwald helps Matthias sit down by the small campfire that Trym is fighting to light properly. Tino is there in a second, gently untying the twine around Matthias' mittens and eases them off. He swears quietly as he drops them with a heavy thud on the ground. "These have frozen solid, must have gotten wet earlier today." He gently cups Matthias' hands in his own. "Matthias, can you feel your fingers?"
"Barely," he replies weakly. "But now that you're holding them, they sort of burn." He looks down at his hands and sees that they are unnaturally pink, red and slightly swollen at the tips, a sure sign of frostbite settling in.
A triumphant roar indicates that Trym has gotten the fire cooperating it crackles merrily as a larger log catches flame and the temperature in the niche begins to rise a little.
"That means they are warming up." Tino sighs deeply. "It will hurt a lot, but we can still save them. Boots next." Tino unlaces them and pulls them off gently, trying not to jostle Matthias too much in the process. The cloak and jacket follow, and Tino hands them to somebody to deal with. "See if you can hang these up or lay them out to dry. "Pants are wet too; we'll have to take them off. Berwald, lift please."
Berwald puts his arms under Matthias' and hauls him up enough for Tino to pull off the wet outer pants and the damp woolen pants underneath before they set him down again. Matthias immediately starts shivering when all he is left wearing is a thin inner layer of woolen underwear. "Good, good, shivering means your body is fighting to warm up and is not giving in" Tino says. "Get a blanket somebody."
Vilje returns with a stack of bedrolls and clothing just moments later and they pile them around Matthias. Whatever else is going around them blurs for Matthias. The burning, stabbing pain in his frozen limbs takes up the forefront of his mind, and he feels a few tears slip down his cheek. He tries to tuck his hands underneath his armpit, but Tino gently pries them away and aims them towards the fire instead.
A while later, he is still shivering, teeth clattering to a point where he cannot speak. They bring a hot bowl to his lips and force him to drink. It is scalding and burns his throat all the way down and he tries to turn his face away when he chokes on it. "No," he mutters weakly. "It hurts."
"Please" Tino pleads and turns his face back towards the bowl. "Just drink everything in this bowl and we'll let you go to sleep."
"Promise?"
"We promise. Drink now."
Matthias drinks slowly. The warmth settles in his gut almost uncomfortably. The others help him lie down on the bedrolls and then people settle down next to him, tucking in close and wrapping arms and legs around. The warmth seeping off the bodies next to his still feels like fire on his frozen skin and he still shivers. Somebody is talking to him, but he cannot register the words properly. The earlier dreams call to him, the sunny field and a smiling carefree Lukas beckons to him, and he closes his eyes to welcome oblivion.