Chương 556: Turning Point

Sir Huck scanned the frozen countryside where the besieging forces were camped. They'd be making another run at the walls soon, trying to do some damage or get inside. He'd do his best to make sure that didn't happen, and so far, his best had been enough. He was glad for the help he got from the Workers. They were an odd bunch, sort of like peasants, but sort of different at the same time. They sure knew a lot of stuff he didn't, although he was the first to admit that he didn't know much at all.

They'd come up with ways to grab all the loose stonework in the Legion's old fort and use it to reinforce the walls of the keep. Most of the mortar was gone for decades now, and with the pounding Winter had given the walls with spells and a dozen big trolls, all the workers had to do was pick up the loose stones at night after he killed a few guards and drag them over the top of the keep's walls. They weren't great at fighting, but when it came to lifting and hauling, they could do the work of a dozen horses.

For a few weeks, every night in the ruins had been a cat-and-mouse game with the Workers trying to steal building materials, while wolves and Rime Knights hunted the Workers, and Huck hunted the Knights. The Rime Knights didn't like that game. They made a lot of noise as they clumped around in heavy armor while Huck hunted them in old homespun, dyed in dark camouflage. All he needed was his sword. The Workers had some fun too.

They joked that what went up could come down, and they'd dropped large rocks and crushed a few Knights of their own. Even a half-dozen couldn't kill a Rime Knight in a fight, but they'd tried and died, proving that. But, they didn't stay dead long, popping up again at dawn, sometimes only dead for a couple of hours, a lot like the frozen people Winter kept sending up the sides of the keep. He'd seen both Workers and frozen folks smashed flat and then ready to work the next day.

He hadn't decided if that sort of curse was a good thing or not. The frozen folks didn't seem too happy, even if the workers didn't seem to mind a lot. They said they got to rest a little when they died, in a cozy bed. Huck tried to understand that, but it didn't make much sense to him. Huck was envious of them and their chances to sleep; he hadn't slept in weeks. Even if he'd tried, the sword would have woken him up.

She was always agitated if an enemy was nearby, and with an army all around them, she was getting more and more shrill with her demands to kill things. But, she never had long to wait until someone from Winter was climbing the walls, or tossing rocks, or trying to fly down from above. She'd been happiest when the trolls had attacked. She told Huck to let them come and wait for them to stick their heads over the top.

Then she'd throw herself at them, dragging Huck in her wake as they lopped off heads and he had to race around the parapets from one side to the next until she ran out of heads to chop off. As Huck peered through the swirling snow to see what Winter was sending against him next, the Baron appeared next to him, so soundlessly even the sword was surprised. That always made her pout for a bit. The Baron's voice was a horse whisper when he spoke, and as always, Huck was worried about him.

This war was taking its toll on him.

"How fares our walls and defenders, faithful Huck? Any hope they will send someone juicy to challenge us?"

"Well, to be honest, sir, I don't reckon so. The Knights are getting upset every time you drain one, and we get them on our side until they fall apart. Makes them nervous. I think they've figured out they should just keep sending more of the dead folks. I'm a little worried they figured out how tired you get telling the dead guys to go home. We can handle them tonight, sir. Why don't you rest, and if a Knight does show up to fight, I'll knock him out cold and bring him down to you?"

The Baron looked at the young man he'd knighted and chuckled.

"Ah, faithful Huck. I wonder what good I did in the world to deserve a man such as you?" Huck answered the question with the truth, "Easy to see that, sir. You promised to keep my family and the other servants safe and protect them. None of us was safe before, especially not the womenfolk and children. That means a lot, sir, and I've promised to protect and serve you. I won't break that vow, even if I'm only lowborn."

The creature that had once been Baron Pinchpenny was silent as he looked at the army around him, then spoke in a low whisper.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this, Huck. I had so many plans for expanding my Barony and then taking the throne of the Empire. You'd have been a general, Huck, and once anyone I left alive had bent the knee to me and accepted their fate, I'd have made you a Duke and let you rule over them. There is such irony in my return being upstaged by another threat to the Empire and the wider world." Huck didn't understand much of that.

"We can hold out, sir. It ain't over yet, not by a long shot. Just have to let them grind themselves down and then turn the tables on them when they don't expect it." The Baron nodded, then thought in silence as the snow swirled.

"You're right, Huck. It's not over yet. I need to be patient and play a longer game. The gods certainly know I've been playing this one poorly. I should have sought allies on one side or another and played the dutiful servant, but I was too angry over that silly collection of bugs when I awoke. Too filled with hatred of the Baron to the North and the Duchess to the South. But, if nothing else, it's put me in a position to choose an ally that aligns better with my values and my aims.

Thank you for such good advice, Huck. And I have a favor to ask of you."

"Anything, sir. What do you need?"

"Capture someone or something. I'm going to need to send a message to the Winter commander about my terms of surrender. I'll be in the vaults for a few hours. There are things there I need, and something I need to offer to my new liege lord to help her win this war." As the various Jarls, Chiefs, Wizards, and commanders of the Winter Army climbed or were lifted atop the massive beast that carried Glacia's command center, they could better see the chaos that had put the army in disarray.

The barbarian tribes were normally distrustful, but now each of their areas had transformed into an armed camp. Large companies of Rime Knights were on either side of the Hungry Ones to prevent another rampage. The ogres, for their part, were content to eat through the mounds of supplies, but already they were looking at the other supply sleds and getting ideas. Wolves and Snarlfang packs were running everywhere, the Beastmasters trying vainly to get control again.

Something was causing the creatures to run in circles, vainly looking for a foe they couldn't find and attack any small group of two-leggers. The scouts had been pulled back and tasked with finding who or what had attacked the night before, given orders from Glacia that sent them off to chase shadows. And sometimes the shadows were waiting for them. If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

As each person attained the summit and took their place in the room, they could feel the tension. The Ice Wizards of the Council were angry and glaring at everyone. The Barbarian Jarls were sullen, and the Rime Commanders aloof and haughty. In a corner in the back of the room, Jarl Cragstone guzzled ale from his drinking horn and appeared unconcerned. He stood and bowed as Glacia came into the room. The woman looked gaunt and feral, looking worse than she'd ever been.

Her eyes blazed as she looked around the room, and several people flinched from her gaze. This pleased Glacia. Her book had given her insight into using fear and disdain to bend people to her will. As always, it was right. She didn't need these idiots, other than as cannon fodder. She didn't need their counsel; she would tell them what to do.

"This war takes too long. The warmlanders don't want to fight. I have called for more troops and certain specialists to join our cause. Bronk travels south to join us, marching fast with the cavalry of the Maple Priests. They have agreed to support our war in the south. The Outlaw Jotun of the Blue Hills have taken our coin. And one of the old terrors of the North will be joining us soon, to ferret out enemies in our midst and rip their entrails from their bodies.

Once they are here, we march on the little Duke's city and force them to face us. We will take the next week to redeploy our army. The Hungry Ones and the beasts will move to the front, to race ahead as an endless wave. The dead will march day and night to not slow our advance. The tribes will guard our flanks, and the army's supplies will be moved to the center of the Rime formations to protect them from further mishaps." Her eyes began to look around the room, then stopped on Jarl Cragstone.

"Why haven't you taken Northguard?" He stood and walked forward.

"I didn't know I would be dealing with a powerful Necromancer and such a mass of defenders. They must have packed that keep with thousands of half-trained warriors. We kill and kill, but more step forward. The dead are useless against someone able to tell them to flee, and the Knights are fearful of the Baron and his dark arts. I have worked to destroy them and wear them down. The Legion fortress is gone. With only a few more days, I can crack their defenses. They are weak and ready to fold."

She glared at him, "Isn't that what you said a month ago?"

"I did. But a month ago, I had catapults to batter the walls. Someone on the council ordered those forward. Horsemen are not shock troops. The tribes would be better here. Give me six catapults and six Ice Wizards, and I'll take Northguard in two days." Glacial didn't like his attitude. There wasn't enough groveling and whining. None, in fact. That was the problem with the Jarls; they were too independent for her liking. But sacrifices had to be made to keep up her reputation.

Frost began to gather in her soul and race to her fingertips. Cragstone stood straight and clenched a talisman in his left hand, doubting it would be enough to keep him alive. He couldn't attack first, but if he lived, the witch would die to his axe. One or the other of them was saved from death as the sound of huge wings filled the air, and a mournful screech announced the arrival of Gillihowlet.

The wind buffets from his mount's forty-foot wing span were enough to send the tent flying and reveal the old man riding the last of the Great Owls, remnants of a bygone age. It was huge, with dirty-white feathers and talons like swords. Three Rime Knights who had tried to delay their landing were gutted, and the owl was feasting on their innards. The huge bird was bleeding in a dozen places from recent wounds, its feathers stained with the blood.

The oldest Beastmaster alive slid from his owls' back, his pure white eyes staring ahead, unblinking. Then his head spun around, and he looked behind him without turning, his eyes catching sight of one of Glacia's stewards.

"You, come here." The man did, fully expecting to die. Instead, Gillihowlet took a brace of three ducks hanging from his belt and tossed them to him.

"Prepare these with mulberry sauce and peppercorns, very rare, and bring them to me." The steward took the ducks and raced away, looking for a cook and helpers. The Beastmaster's head spun back around, and he barely inclined it to Glacia.

"I got your message. Your offer is accepted, but I will pick my new lands in the south, not those you offered. I want forests with game, vibrant with life. Glimmerbeak will lay her last clutch within the decade, and I need a place for the owlets to hunt and grow."

"Granted. You fought on your way south?" He smiled, showing teeth filed to daggers, "A trifle. A few flights of ducks and a goose challenged us. Most are now dead, and the others fled the skies. They will provide a tasty dinner. Tell me the problem you need solving." She liked the way he was staring from one person in the room to the next, his head turning back and forth, with pure white eyes dissecting each person. She pointed at a man in furs.

"The Beastmasters claim that an enemy Beastmaster is disrupting the hounds. I need him dead." Gillihowlet took two quick steps, and his hand slashed across a Beastmaster's throat before anyone could react. Blood dripped from his clawed hand. He glared around the room.

"This one is part of the problem. His fear is infecting his pack. There is no place for fear. We are predators, not prey!" Outside, his owl screeched. He turned to Glacia, "I will strengthen their spines and solve your problem. The enemy beastmaster's scent was on the ducks, and I will know when they draw near." Glacia was curious if Gillihowlet had read her book. He was very adept at the techniques taught in it.

"Kill who you like if it weeds out the weak." She would have said more, but a breathless messenger ran up to her, having just made the long climb. He knelt and held out a scroll. Cragstone recognized the man, one of his messengers. Glacia unrolled the scroll.

"Well, it seems Jarl Cragstone has done his job, and done it well. Baron Pinchpenny of Northguard has offered to join our ranks as a member of the Council and aid us in conquering the Empire." That statement got a few raised eyebrows from everyone, but only the old Beastmaster spoke, "I flew over his castle. It is weak, a pile of rocks with mice scurrying around. He dares to ask for a seat on the Council?" He shrugged, his disdain apparent. Glacia's eyes glittered.

"He offers a treasure lost in the last great invasion, The Casket of Stolen Summers. With it, we will blanket all before us in ice and turn Wolfsburg into a glacier. Jarl Cragstone, get my army ready to march. I will journey to Northguard tomorrow to welcome our new ally.