The snow was coming down harder and an early twilight had fallen. Tythos was sitting under a low shelter of branches, rubbing blood flow back into his feet. The nightmare was sitting beside him in the snow. Tythos didn’t have the mental energy to keep it attached. The physical refreshment he got when it consumed the soldiers didn’t refresh his mind. If he deepened his bond with the creature, that sort of thing might become possible. To completely refresh himself feasting on the death and suffering of others. That was never going to happen. What he had done and what he had become were already unforgivable.
Laid out in neat rows below, an army encampment had grown up in the clearing. Tythos counted the tents and tried to see if the solders were mobilizing, or if the storm was delaying their plans.
“What the hells?” Tythos muttered after a minute of watching.
“What do you see?” Said the Nightmare.
“You seriously can’t see any of that?”
“Stop dragging it out, what’s down there?”
“Remind me not to kill them all before I learn how to draw these wards.”
“That’s just rude.”
“If it can be scaled down I can get it as a tattoo.”
“That wouldn’t break our bond, it would just cut me off from you.”
Tythos shrugged, “Ehh— sometimes you gotta take what you can get.”
“You’re not being serious— are you?”
“You’ll find out when I learn to draw these.”
“You know we’d both die slowly— right?”
“That’s not a dealbreaker.”
“Are you going to go kill everyone or not?”
“It’s not that simple. Based on the tent layout, there are sixty, maybe seventy five soldiers down there.”
“Why is that surprising?”
“What do you know that I don’t?”
“How many men would you bring to kill everyone in this valley without word getting out?”
“Why does this sound like something you’ve already thought through?”
“Of course I’ve thought it through. I try to think of seven different ways to kill everyone before breakfast.”
“Your hobbies are disgusting.”
“That’s not a hobby, it’s a practical mental exercise. My hobbies are—“
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
“You never show any interest in the things I like.”
“Is this the part where you tell me about your unexpressed teenage angst?”
“You know we could work together much better if you got to know me.”
“Yep.”
“You’ve never spent energy to deepen our soul bond.”
“Nope.”
“You’re squandering our potential.”
“Good.”
“It’s my life you’re wasting too.”
“Everybody needs a hobby.”
“I don’t know why I bother talking to you sometimes.”
“You’re a slow learner.”
“I’m the only one who cares about you, you know.”
“You’d torture and kill me in a second if we weren’t bonded.”
“Well yeees, but we are, so I love you like you’re my own flesh.”
“I want you to stop talking to me now.”
“But I’m booored, I thought you were going to kill everyone.”
“You have any bright ideas on how I can handle a camp of seventy five soldiers by myself, while cut off from all your demonic tools?”
“We’ve been over this, they’re not demonic.”
“A steaming pile by any other name…”
“That’s just rude.”
“Well, Mr-I-think-up-seven-ways-to-kill-everyone?”
“Stab them all in their sleep?”
“I’d need twenty five good men to pull that off.”
“Drag them into the woods one by one?”
“They’d just mobilize and force my hand by marching on the valley.”
“Challenge their champion to a duel, winner takes all?”
“As fun as that sounds, you know the loser never honors the bet.”
“You did.”
“That doesn’t count. Are you out of ideas at three?”
“I don’t hear you coming up with any.”
“What would happen if we modified the warding rune?”
“Oooh… Oh that might work… wait, no. You’d have to channel magic inside of the wards, and you can’t do that without me.”
Tythos didn’t mention that he thought he could. After powering the sword without the creature, he suspected something that big would kill him. That wasn’t his first choice. He had managed to work feeling back into one of his feet, so he crossed his legs and began work on the other.
“We’re going to have to rendezvous with that band of misfits anyway,” Tythos said after a moment of thought.
“Why?”
“We made a deal. You know what violating that would do to us.”
“That’s because you’re thinking about it wrong. Agreeing to help them is open to interpretation. What better way to help than to never see them again? Of course, murdering them and saving them the agony of living is better, but you already rejected that.”
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“No. I’m not all twisted up like you. When I agree to help, that means I’m going to help.”
“This is why you need to deepen our bond, you’re very narrow minded.” The Nightmare reached clawed hands toward his head. “I could broaden your horizons.”
Tythos flinched away from its reach. “That’s gross.”
“What? No! I didn’t mean— you’re gross!”
Tythos decided the soldiers would wait until the storm passed to march on the valley. They may have orders, but soldiers were the same in any army.
“We’ve got to get going, or risk losing them in this storm.” Tythos said.
“That would be bad?”
“Yes. Which way is it back to the farm?”
“You have the worst sense of direction.”
“I got used to using your senses, being stuck in mine is like being deaf and half-blind.”
“What would you do without me?”
“Find happiness, peace and fulfillment in life.”
“That’s just rude.”
***
Birdge put out an arm and tried to push Sigrun back. She was bigger than he was and wearing half-plate. He might as well have been trying to push a horse.
“Back up damnit!”
Sigrun put her hand over her mouth and started coughing, stumbling back. Birdge guided her further back. He waited until they were a good ten paces away before drawing in a breath.
They had almost stepped into a fuming, acid sludge that was melting the snow with a hiss. The low visibility had caused it to appear with no warning. There was no sign of Tythos, or the dead soldier that had been in this area. Birdge walked in several circles to make sure, while Sigrun caught her breath. He found a pair of shoes, with the toes slowly melting, and the tracks of a running man. The snow was filling them in quickly and Birdge didn’t bother to follow. Maybe he would be able to catch Tythos before the trail disappeared, but he had just agreed to be responsible for the whole group.
“This storm’s getting worse,” said Birdge. “We need to gather the group and take shelter.”
“What did we almost step in?” Sigrun’s eyes were fixed on the viscous acid and bloodstained snow.
“Proof that not everything I heard about Tythos In the war were rumors.”
“Where is he?”
“He ran off.”
“Damnit! Can you track him?”
“Don’t insult me. Of course I can.”
“Let’s go! We’ve got to catch him.”
“We need to gather our people.”
“I have orders—“
“Who do you think is more likely to die in this storm? The unarmed man who just killed an entire unit of king’s soldiers, or the people who somehow couldn’t follow us here?”
Sigrun looked like she wanted go chasing after Tythos. She clenched her jaw, staring out into the snow. After a moment she blew out a deep breath and nodded.
“Let’s get the horses and go look for the group and then some shelter,” Sigrun said.
“Why don’t we just stay here? We got shelter and a stable for the horses. We’re not going to find better than this.”
“Here? But…” Sigrun gestured around at the yard.
“But no one is going to be using it tonight.”
“I…” Sigrun looked conflicted, “Do you think Tythos really knew these people?”
“You mean, do I think he killed them?”
Sigrun nodded.
“He couldn’t have, not the way the bodies fell.”
“You sure?”
“Doesn’t matter. You saw the most important part yourself. You ever see that kind of wrath from a man when the target hadn’t done him a personal wrong?”
“I…” Sigrun looked uncertain, “No…”
“Maybe you’re too young. I suppose the better question is, you ever seen death in the field before?”
“Once, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t like this.”
Birdge nodded, “Then just take my word for it. Tythos didn’t kill the farmers.”
Sigrun visibly shook herself. Her posture straightened and light returned to her eyes. “Let’s get the horses and go find them before Peony starts lighting fires.”
***
The clothes Tythos was wearing were not made for a blizzard. The day had not started out warm to begin with, but it had not been cold. He’d dressed with plans to turn earth in a garden. He was now wading through snow up to his shins.
The snow reminded Tythos of another life. One where he’d still been small.
The long strides of his father seemed impossibly far apart. Taking two or three steps for his father’s every one, Tythos thought he’d need a hundred years to ever grow so big.
They were returning from a hunt. The winter was hanging on this year, snow on the ground having remade the world. He and his father had on snow-feet, light banded wood with leather strips woven between to give them a wide step. You needed snow feet in a winter world. It was like walking on a white ocean. Without the snow-feet, it would swallow a man whole, and not spit him out until the thaw. Even with the snow-feet, the hungry white was deadly. Whole trees were swallowed up by the white ocean, becoming deadly pitfalls if you walked over them.
Tythos’s job was as a sounder. He scouted ahead, found the dangerous snow, and plotted a path around it. His father was dragging the litter with the meat from their kill. They’d had to range far out to find the elk, and it was now maybe a two day walk back. They’d only been able to take a quarter of the animal. Walking back over the deep white, a snow litter would only bear so much. Overload it, and it would sink beneath.
They’d dug a snow shelter for the rest of the meat. This was a gamble, because it was an investment of time, and burying the meat would not keep the wolverines from finding it. It had been too long between kills, so his father decided to take what they could carry, and race against the wolverines to try and come back for more.
The meat they had was carefully wrapped after being rubbed with special oil that smelled of herbs. This helped cut the meat smell from the air, which could attract the wolverines, or worse, one of the great ghost bears. If the meat smell attracted either of these, they’d hunt and kill the men, happy to eat man or elk.
Tythos had fought a wolverine with his father once. They’d set an ambush for it once they knew it was stalking them. A wolverine would stalk a man for days, and then dig him out of his snow-home while he slept.
“I found someone for you to kiiill,” the Nightmare sang the last word.
The voice of the creature ripped Tythos from thoughts about the past. He blinked, surprised to find himself walking. He must be too cold if he had been lost in a walking dream.
“What did you find?”
“It’s a group of soldiers. They look lost.”
“How many?”
“Only Seven, including their pair of scouts.”
“Same number I found at the Gladwell’s place. Damnit. Can you tell if they’re coming from another farm?”
“No.”
“Then we better go ask them. Can you do that trick where you swallow one of them?”
“Yes, but that will occupy my whole form. You won’t be able to channel or manifest. And I can only swallow one.”
“Fine. I don’t have the energy to manifest or channel right now anyway.”
“You’re out of shape.”
“What are they armed with?”
“It wouldn’t cost so much to manifest if you deepened our bond.”
“Which way are they headed?”
“All you’d have to do is give me another one of your names.”
“We’re not talking about this right now.”
“But you’re beginning to freeze, unarmed and about to get into a fight with five armed soldiers.”
“I hadn’t planned on standing here and freezing to death, but if you don’t tell me what I need to know, I might just give it a try.”
“You’re such a meanie. Fine, they all have swords, and one is armed with a crossbow.”
“Straight swords?”
“Standard issue.”
“I’ll never understand why they favor those things.”
“Just think of the beauty of a tool that’s heavy enough to be effective against an unarmed target even if it’s dull as a stone.”
“That’s for shit. Staff or a quarter-staff would be cheaper and more effective. Hell, a good cudgel would be even better.”
“But the sword is more intimidating.”
“Only to the ignorant.”
“Then why do you manifest a straight sword?”
“Never mind— which way are they?”
“I want to learn more about cudgels, they sound sexy.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“You’re the one that aroused my interest.”
“If you’ll drop it, I’ll show you what a cudgel is good for the next time I have one.”
“What does it take to make one? You’re unarmed.”
“Something sturdy, about the length of my forearm, good handle. Best case, it’s got a heavier head with some weight behind the handle. Something that won’t crack when you split a skull with it.”
“I might have something that would work.”
“What, you find a stick? The local wood’s too brittle or too soft, won’t work.”
“No, even better.”
The nightmare came striding out of the swirling snow, a huge grin on its face. It opened its mouth wide and began making a choking sound. Tythos jumped back, wary of more acid. With a strange clatter, something white spilled out of its open mouth. Tythos took a step closer and saw it was a pile of bones. They were dry and clean. He moved the pile until he found a skull and picked it up. It was a horse skeleton.
“What the hells?”
“I might’ve found a horse I didn’t tell you about.”
“And… you just had the bones somehow?”
“I like to collect them.”
“Collect them.”
“Yes, I have all sorts.”
“You mean you’ve got more somewhere?”
“I keep the bones from everything I consume.”
“How is this the first time this has ever come up?”
“You really should spend time getting to know me… You‘ve never even asked my name.”
“You mean, even when you’re attached to me, you have the bones of everything you’ve ever consumed?”
“Yeees,” it drew out the word, like this should have been obvious.
“How the hell does that even— you know what, never mind.”
Tythos looked down at the skull in his hand. He set it down and fished through the pile until he found the jawbone. With some effort, he pulled the two curved pieces of the jaw apart until they snapped. He hefted the separated piece of bone. It had a good weight to it, and the space between the molars and the front teeth made a perfect handle. It felt more like a hand-axe than a cudgel, but it would get the job done. Tythos grinned.
“Lead the way to those soldiers and I’ll show you what good a cudgel is in a fight.”
***