Novels2Search
Atros Imperium
Chapter 163 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Flidhor's Frozen Prize

Chapter 163 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Flidhor's Frozen Prize

Chapter 163:

Ivano’s feet crunched through the thick snow, his thick fur gloved hands pushed away a particularly large branch, drenching him in wet, sticky snow. The snow began to melt the moment it touched his beard and face, continuing to build upon the previous layers. He shook his head, breaking most free, but the snow continued to fall in light waves so it was rather pointless.

“This is ridiculous.” A voice came from behind. “Utterly ridiculous.”

Arlid and Arvid, the one-armed brothers, followed close behind Ivano, their large axes dragging against the high snow.

“We could be in the warm, out of the snow,” Arvid grumbled, pulling the hem of his thick deerskin cloak tight around his neck. “With lots of food and women…”

“And fire,” Arlid mumbled. He sighed as he looked to his missing arm. “At least we’re not going to lose our other arm….Ivano! How much longer are we going to be trudging through this damned snow?”

Ivano shared their sentiments. “Until we find whatever Borstig’s searching for.”

Ivano nodded to their leader. Borstig, now wearing proper winter gear, carved a wandering path through the snow, sometimes walking directly towards a large tree than deviating wildly. At least he was taking a general direction towards the summit of the mountain.

“Any closer?” Ivano asked. “I don’t want to be in the hills at dark.”

Ivano wasn’t just travelling with Borstig and the twins. Behind the twins, and forming the rear of their small column, trudged Brenna and Snakha. The two were even slower and more ponderous than the twins. Snakha was understandable, Orcs were far larger and bulkier than even the Clansmen, but Brenna was a little more mysterious. He caught a look of annoyance on her face but didn’t understand the source. A moment later he completely understood, when a great weight of snow fell from a tree Snakha brushed up against.

“The voices are much louder.” Borstig sounded extremely happy, jubilant even. “It’s not much further now. I’m sure of it.”

You were sure of that this morning too…

Ivano looked back down the mountain, to the small camp nestled in a clearing to the side of the road. A hundred Fire Blade Warriors waited near a small hot spring, a place where water was hot regardless of the time of year. Not only did it make for a good spot to rest it was one of the few places where animals could graze, though the grasses and mosses were meagre at best. It wasn’t just warriors; Sibbe, his wife, and his three children were travelling with them, alongside another hundred clanswomen; taking care of cooking, the supply wagons and most of the logistical concerns. They were not expected to fight in the same manner as the men but could certainly hold their own. Ivano knew that no self-respecting Clanswoman wouldn’t be willing to fight if the situation demanded it. Erik and the Bebbezzarian slave woman, Unina, were also by Sibbe’s side. He wasn’t willing to leave them on their own, Sibbe was tough but not invincible, but he didn’t want to bring her or their children up this long and ponderous climb to find this mysterious beast.

“I checked with Kollskegg.” Ivano swatted away another snow-laden branch. “And, while he says you’re right, I don’t think Ulfhied’s going to fight you if you’re riding some beast. I know I wouldn’t.”

“No shaman to let the chieftain get a little too drunk this time,” Arlid added softly.

Borstig stopped, resting his hand on the rough bark of a particularly large pine tree. “I…I don’t want to be a Chief. That’s what my father wants…But…” Borstig smiled at Ivano. Not an ounce of warmth came through his face. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“You could live in the lowlands,” Brenna suggested. She kicked at the snow, not that it did any good. “They’re a lot…Well, they’re not as peaceful. Especially with us raiding them. But you won’t have to worry about being a chief there.”

For a moment Borstig appeared to be legitimately considering Brenna’s suggestion. Ivano sighed softly, patted the young man on the shoulder, and pushed him forward. The suggestion did not come up again.

As the light began to shift, light drawing longer shadows from the heavy branches, Ivano began to grow increasingly concerned. To be traversing the snowy wilderness during the dark, especially in winter, was essentially a death sentence for the unprepared. And they were definitely unprepared.

Borstig stopped suddenly. Ivano signalled for everyone to ready their weapons; Brenna drew her sword, nestled firmly inside a thick leather sheath. Unlike the lowlanders the few Clansmen that used swords instead of axes never used metal. Ice, melted from snow on hands, would freeze around the metal, locking it in place. Several Graterian soldiers had met their end that way, Ivano would not forget the utter look of panic, and even betrayal, as their weapon failed them.

"What do you see?" Ivano whispered.

Borstig remained motionless, his eyes transfixed on the snow before him. Red stained the otherwise immaculate white. For a terrible moment Ivano thought Borstig had been struck by an arrow, but it wasn't his. The blood had pooled around a gentle depression in the snow, both fresh enough that the blood was not completely frozen and the snow had not filled it in. Borstig raised his hand and followed a bloody trail deep into the woods. Ivano pushed past the boy, the twins took him to one side, as he followed the streak of blood. The trail grew fainter the further from the attack, the occasional large blotch of blood where the creature had stopped to catch their breath or the victim had simply leaked out more blood from a still-beating heart, until it led deep into a cave leading deep into the mountain. Very little snow had fallen inside. Now the blood simply trailed over the bare grey stone.

"It's in there." Borstig merrily raced to Ivano's side, much to the exasperation of the others. "I'm certain of it."

"It took down a deer in one hit." Snakha ran a large green hand through his thick and damp black hair. "Are you sure you want to try and catch this beast, or whatever it is? It'd be so much easier to actually train you on the way." Snakha smiled, thumping his chest. "I'm a great fighter."

Ivano recalled their first meeting, the brutality that Snakha had shown to a fellow Orc to simply claim something that he owned. Borstig didn't have that temperament, or the physical strength. The boy was rather thin.

"The voices have never been wrong." Borstig's eyes flicked to Snakha. Unlike most of the Clansmen he didn't throw disapproving looks at the Orc, something that had only become far more prevalent after their defeat. "And they're pleading for me to head inside."

"I wonder what it could possibly be." Arvid sighed.

"I wonder if those voices of yours aren't trying to lure us into a trap." Arlid scoffed. "There's not going to be much room in there."

Before further objections could be presented Borstig broke into a run, darting out of Ivano's swipe at his collar, and dove into the cave.

"Shit."

Ivano could think of no better word. If the boy died he doubted his chances of seeing spring, doubly so for his wife and children. He gripped his axe tight and dived into the dark cave, hoping that the creature wasn't waiting for both of them.

After turning a bend in the cave, still within the light of the entrance, he found Borstig. Alive, much to the relief of his furiously beating heart, and resting against the wall, peering into a distant source of light. Ivano was smart enough not to ask the obvious, if only that their voices might rouse the creature, and looked around Borstig's shoulder.

The cave opened up, a stream of light and snow entered the cavern from a hole above. Tree roots hanged limp over the edge, along with a broken log and a gentle sprinkling of light snow. The trees surrounding the hole severely limited the amount coming in.

On the ground, in the centre of the rays of light, rested a series of large rocks. Their tops were smooth, their bottoms rough and sharply edged. Those near the bottom were broken, where they had fallen and taken hits from the rocks above. Small shrubs and grasses, those normally found in warmer areas, like the hot spring, grew in abundance around the stone. Something was keeping the cavern warm, especially with the snow continuing to fall through the gap. The reason was obvious. There was movement on the second layer of broken rocks, at first it had blended in with the spattering of snow but now that it was moving it was much easier to see.

It was a bear, the largest bear that Ivano had ever seen, feasting upon a dead deer. Its light grey fur allowed it to blend in with the rocks and snow, but the blood covering its snout defeated any of the camouflage. The longer Ivano looked, however, the stranger the bear became. It had four arms, each pinning the dead deer, with a band of red running along its unusually long claws. The teeth were much larger than normal along with narrowed eyes.

"Is this what the voices want?" Ivano whispered as softly as he could. "What is it anyway?"

Borstig slowly nodded. "They tell me that if I approach it, it won't attack."

Ivano scouted the cave once more. There were no obvious additional entrances, something that worried him greatly. If the beast thought it was being cornered there was a good chance it would lash out, friendly or not.

"Let me-" Borstig stepped into the cave, Ivano grabbed him by the collar and pulled back hard. Borstig's boots scuffed along the ground, throwing up tiny rocks. Enough to make a noise.

The beast's ears pricked up and towards the single entrance. It continued to eat the dead deer but its eyes were fully focused on them. Ivano knew full well that animals, for the most part, had better eyesight than humans. And yet it still wasn't attacking.

"Why did you do that?" Borstig sounded like a child that had its favourite toy taken away. "It's not going to hurt us. See? It knows we're here."

The beast stopped eating, licked the beads of blood from its face and stared silently at them, resting all four arms over its prize.

Arlid and Arvid neared. Ivano, faintly illuminated by the cavern light, waved for them to be quiet and slow. The twins peered around Ivano, quickly retreating to the shadows the moment after making eye contact with the beast.

“What is that?” Arvid hissed.

“I have no idea.”

Another two footsteps neared, Brenna and Snakha. Brenna didn’t look, picking up on the obvious concern but Snakha moved past. His head bobbed to the side. Instead of darting back he held the beast's gaze.

“Huh.” Snakha rubbed his large chin, picking at his large teeth. “Didn’t think I’d see one so far north.”

“And this is?” Ivano asked, pulling the Orc back into the shadow.

Whatever the beast actually was it remained motionless, its eyes focused upon them while continuing to guard its meal.

“A Bernoth.” Snakha chucked. “A bloody big one too. Just think of a bear, but just a bit bigger.”

“And four arms,” Ivano commented.

“True. True.” Snakha peered around again. “They’re just as aggressive as a normal bear, maybe more so if you’re inside their den. Doesn’t look like it’s a female so there aren’t going to be cubs. Maybe Borstig’s not entirely crazy.”

Borstig smiled, thinking Snakha’s words were completely sincere. Perhaps a little bit was.

“So what do you honestly plan to do?”

Borstig stepped out and into the light. The Bernoth, if that was its true name, pulled itself up, pushing down on the deers’ carcass and spilling its guts. It sniffed at the air, glanced at something obscured by its body, and back to Borstig. To Ivano’s great relief it didn’t launch itself at the boy.

Borstig slowly approached the Bernoth, keeping his hands raised and clear that he could do the beast no harm. For its part, the Bernoth tilted its head and sniffed lightly at the air. Ivano saw something in the Bernoth’s eyes; something was holding it back. Not in body but in mind.

“It’s okay.” Borstig’s boots shuffled across the cavern floor, reaching the edge of the mossy ground. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

The Bernoth didn’t look entirely convinced.

“The Demi-Goddess of Beasts told me that you would be here.” Borstig didn’t sound entirely sure. “That you could help me.”

This is insane.

“That we can help each other.”

“He’s going to get himself killed.” Brenna grabbed Ivano’s arm. “If he dies-”

“He’s not going to die.” Ivano drew a blade, the Bebbezzarian jagged dagger.

I certainly bloody hope so.

Suddenly the Bernoth reared up and let out a tremendous roar. All stood still as the creature stood down and pawed at the ground. Borstig continued to approach, raised one hand and spoke softly at the Bernoth. It snorted, great plumes of steamy breath against the snowflakes raining down, and barred its teeth. Borstig waited perfectly still until it became calm again.

“Kid’s got a way with creatures.” Snakha murmured.

Finally, Borstig placed a single boot onto the stone pile. The Bernoth snorted once and lowered its head. Not in an act of submission but like it had found a friend, a member of its pack. Borstig hesitantly reached forward and scratched the Bernoth’s nose. It growled affectionately, pushing its snout closer to Borstig and even tilting up slightly so he could scratch under its chin. Borstig smiled, his shoulders relaxed as the BB relaxed too.

"See?" Borstig smiled back at Ivano. "He's friendly."

"Can you use magic?" Ivano stepped into the light. The Bernoth's eyes flicked to him but made no hostile movement. "Because that's clearly no normal beast."

Borstig continued to scratch its neck as the others moved into the cavern. It remained calm, except when it saw Snakha. Upon laying eyes on the Orc the Bernoth’s hair along its back rose up, its lips curled back but didn't move. A few whispers from Borstig and it had calmed down.

"Your kind hunts these?" Brenna asked Snakha.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Snakha shrugged dismissively. "Sometimes. But mainly because they're in good hunting grounds and have either chased away all the good game or are attacking our hunters."

Snakha eyed of the Bernoth's fur. "They do have some very good hides. Very strong and warm too."

Borstig hugged its neck. "The voices didn't bring me here just so I could have a thicker coat."

"You never have answered who these voices come from." Ivano folded his arms, keeping a keen eye for any hint of movement. "I asked if it was Fliodher, Demi-Goddess of beasts, but you sort of..."

Borstig tilted his head as Ivano desperately searched for a better alternative than simply saying he simply drifted off. As he couldn't think of something nicer he let it drop and continued to look at the Bernoth.

"It...It might be." Borstig looked strangely embarrassed. "I don't know what she sounds like."

"Did Fliodher speak to him?" Arlid asked. "Thought the Gods really only spoke to people, not animals."

Snakha grumbled something, he refused to elaborate, as the Bernoth's ears pricked up and it left Borstig's reach. It moved around the dead deer, perhaps offering it to its guests, before pawing at a stone at the rear of the mound. The stone was unlike the others, not worn by weather and water but sharp angles and flat sides, carved by human hands and not caused by a fall. On the exposed side lay an etching, cut roughly into the smooth surface, of a myriad of beasts, all swarming together and reaching for a common point. A shadowy figure stood there, just the vaguest outline of a huntress with her bow knocked and drawn.

"This..." Ivano pointed to the etching, unwilling to touch it in the Bernoth's presence. "This is what spoke to you? That told you to come here and what, help him?"

Though Ivano sincerely doubted the BB's ability to understand words something got through to its animal brain. It nudged the etching then nudged Borstig with his nose.

"I think that's a yes." Arvid chuckled.

"Will you come with us, Chumny?"

"What?" Ivano said flatly. The others shared his mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"That's his name. Chumny." Borstig smiled, a child wanting, desperate, to be praised.

Ivano sighed. "So long as he's happy with it."

Borstig ruffled the fur along his back, electing a delighted moan as its rear leg rose to scratch its stomach.

"Ivano." Snakha tapped his shoulder. "It's great that we've got this thing but how is this supposed to help. If I was this Ulfheid woman I definitely wouldn't accept a challenge from him."

Arvid chuckled. "She might think it's a trick."

"It is." Brenna quietly added.

"I wonder if it has fleas." Arlid wondered aloud.

Borstig raised his hand, bringing it close to his eyes. He recoiled and desperately rubbed them on the stone.

"That's a yes." Arlid chuckled. "A lot by the looks of it."

"Still doesn't explain how this is going to be useful," Snakha said dryly.

“Maybe we can…” Ivano sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know how Arnkel expects me to get this whole thing to work. Ulfheid can just…”

Ivano rubbed his forehead with both hands. A sense of dejection began to fill his mind, no matter what he thought of it didn’t solve the central problem; Borstig had no hope of defeat Ulfheid, even with the giant Bernoth on their side.

Maybe he…What sort of man does Ulfheid like? Judging by what she looked like I doubt she likes little thin men like Borstig. Although…

“We’ll figure it out when we get there.” Ivano shook his head. “Before then. Ulfhied’s not going to just let us wander about her city and cook us some scheme.”

“Speaking of food…” Arlid whistled innocently.

The Bernoth, or Chumny, perked up at the strange noise, its eyes looked around the cavern, searching for something. Perhaps it thought it was some kind of bird that had flown inside.

“We should head back, before the others decide to come up here, or think we’re dead and head back to Brenningr.” Ivano smiled. “Sibbe wouldn’t let them. Not if they don’t want a beating.”

---[]---

Sibbe stood at the edge of the camp, her arms folded in annoyance. “Ivano. What is that?”

Behind her, Ivano's clung to her pants, scared and more than a little excited by what they found.

"It's what Borstig's been looking for all this time," Ivano said loudly. "At least I think it is."

To his side walked Chumny, the Bernoth walked very slowly to maintain pace. Judging by the tension in its muscles it wanted to break into a run, or even just a fast walk to escape its drudging pace. Ivano had not asked if this was a particularly large or even small for their kind. Borstig, much to everyone's concern, rode on the beasts back, just behind its second set of arms. Its chest was so wide that his legs couldn't wrap around, not even really begin to, so it looked a little strange.

If he rode sideways, like some of the lowlander women, it would be far easier on him.

Ivano pushed away such thoughts, for they led to some unpleasant memories. Screams of horses and the whimpering and pleading of dying women, soaked in their own blood, flashed through his thoughts. He pushed them aside with a smile and let the sight of his wife fill the void. Although she certainly wasn't much happier than the women from his memory.

Sibbe raised a disbelieving brow. "Really? A bear?"

"A Bernoth, actually," Snakha said softly. Ivano wondered if his wife actually heard, she had very sensitive ears some times.

Sibbe held the children back, Ivano wasn't sure if they wanted to run to him or try and play with the giant bear, as the camp slowly took notice. Most simply looked relieved that they had finally found what Borstig was seeking. That quickly shifted to concern when they saw the Bernoth slowly trudging through the thick snow. Ivano saw many resting a hand on their weapons, many of the women looking to their wagons of food.

Sibbe continued to frown, only accentuating the few scars on her face, until Ivano held her in his arms. For the briefest moment she felt angry but it melted away, she pushed her body into his. Ivano would never speak it aloud but she was very soft when it came to him. Their children made noises, pulling hard on her clothes, as if they were feeling left out. Sibbe slowly broke their hug and returned the tugs on their cheeks.

Sibbe glanced at the Bernoth and Borstig, still waiting outside the camp perimeter. "Does it eat people?"

Already her voice was softer.

"Probably." Ivano smiled, much to Sibbe's annoyance. "But...something's different about this one. It's smarter...Or one of the Gods has meddled with it. Either way, I think it's fine. Keep the kids away from it, just in case."

Sibbe glanced down. They did look like they wanted to pet the giant bear.

A bear is just like a giant dog. Not that we had one, but our neighbours did. Nothing like this though.

"So what now?" Sibbe folded her arms, shifting her weight to one hip. "Are we heading back to Brenningr?" Her lips curled up in annoyance. "We still can't go home yet. Not with that pig still watching over us."

Sibbe referred to Arnkel, Ivano's chief. Given that Ivano now led a clan that was probably no longer the case. Nevertheless, the man had taken up residence in a wealthier district of Brenningr and gave no indication that he was planning on leaving anytime soon. He was paying for his own food so there wasn't a drain on the economy, as Gerin would call it. The Bebbezarian captive elected to join them on their strange journey. Otherwise, he was going to be spending the entire winter with no one he knew and, after the harried retreat from Thessos, Bebbezarians weren't particularly popular. Ivano spied him near the supply wagons, arguing with several of the women about something. Whatever it was he wasn't willing to back down even in the face of a dozen angry clanswomen. Something he knew might just make him more than a little popular amongst the single women.

"He's still my chief." Ivano kissed her forehead. "Well, not really. But once we manage to get Borstig ruling the Wind Walkers, how I still don't know, we'll be able to settle down in Brenningr and raise our children. It’ll be safe there, and I’m sure there’ll be lots of children their age they can play with."

Sibbe pursed her lips.

Ivano sighed. "I don't think either of us are going to return back to our house, not the way we would like to."

Sibbe shrugged. "Good thing I managed to give away our animals. I’d hate to think they’d starve or freeze to death while we’re out here.”

“True.” Ivano smiled, remembering the loveable shaggy goats and sheep always eager for food and a good scratch. “Time for thinking about that stuff later. Right now we need to…”

The Bernoth, Borstig still riding its back, began to snarl. The entire camp jumped up, fearing that the beast had turned feral, but its eyes were focused on the road. Something ran along the snowy road towards them. A man, arms and legs flailing wildly throwing up great plumes of snow. He glanced back, though Ivano couldn't hear him he knew he cursed something and continued running again.

"Any idea?" Ivano asked loudly. Though the Fire Blades weren't really his original clan they treated him like he always had been. Those nearby didn't but one did.

"Fish Gutter!" An older Fire Blade clansmen yelled back. "Their village is eight miles to the south!"

"He's run a long way." Arvid frowned deeply.

Sibbe pulled close to Ivano. Everyone knew something was very wrong.

Ivano found their small group of riders, led by the young man that had led the Mord's wife and son to their deaths.

"Head out there and rescue him," Ivano ordered.

The man was almost already mounted, gave a single nod and led his riders through the snow. Their horses weren't as elegant as those of the lowlanders but they were so much stronger. They tore through the calf-high snow with barely an exertion.

"What's happening?" Gerin approached, some of the women were still arguing with him but he paid them no mind. "I thought we were heading east."

Arlid pointed his axe towards the solitary clansmen. "Fish Gutters are fishermen. Not-"

"Ice fishing?" Gerin raised a brow. "We do that in Bebbezzar too. Only in the mountains though."

Arlid grumbled. "Good fishermen, not fighters. You don't see them on raids."

"Good thing too," Arvid smirked. "You lowlanders would all be dead if they used their knives in a fight. Would rip your guts out with just one swing."

"I'd prefer to have to fight none of you," Gerin mumbled.

The riders neared the Fish Gutter but, instead of being relieved, he shouted even louder, furiously waving his hands, urging the riders to return.

"What's wrong with him?" Brenna asked. She looked at Sibbe but neither said anything.

The riders screeched to a halt, great plumes of snow rose into the air, and began to ride back. Ivano grumbled internally but that was cut short by how the very trees began to shake.

A bolt of brown burst from the trees, soaring through the air and cutting clean through the man's torso. The bolt carried him far into the snow beyond the road, smashing and impaling him into a small snowy bush. Only then did blood begin to stain the white snow.

Sibbe pulled close, his children too.

"Weapons!" Ivano shouted. The call wasn't needed, nearly everyone was watching, but his word, and the authority bequeathed to it, breathed a new sense of urgency into their actions.

The riders reached their camp, steamy breath against the cold snow, as the burst with brown boulders. Except they weren't boulders.

"Fucks' sake." Ivano felt his axe lower.

Stone Men, giant lumbering undead, encased in shiny dark brown stone, walked towards them, their oversized axes and sword limp and loose by their sides. Judging by the blood staining each weapon they had already finished off any other fleeing Fish Gutters.

"Same ones as before?" Arlid asked, readying his own axe. "Didn't think they were the vindictive type."

"I don't even know if they can think." Ivano squeezed his wife's hand and gently pushed her back. "But we can't outrun them."

Unlike the last Stone Men these appeared to have a desire other than eating the dead, at least Ivano felt they did. Normally they were slow, lumbering creatures, but someone had put a metaphorical fire in their hearts. Like the rest of their kind, these Stone Men were tall and had very long strides, far greater than any human, covering ground at a surprising pace, but these were almost running.

"Something's got them into a frenzy," Arvid grumbled. “Can these things even think?”

“On some level…” Gerin whimpered. Ivano realised the Bebbezzarian would certainly have never heard of these terrifying creatures, let alone seen a group baring down upon them with bloodied weapons.

Ivano ordered the men to form a defensive line, those with ranged weapons behind, a disappointing few compared to what the lowlanders normally fielded. This wasn't like a charge from the Qaiviel Knights but simply having someone by your side was sometimes more than enough to win the day.

As the Stone Men neared they began to slow, something that Ivano did not expect. The undead creatures formed a similar line, shields at the front with javelins at the rear. Ivano grimaced at the size and number of the shards of dark brown stone.

"It's okay." Borstig rubbed the Bernoth's neck. "It's going to be okay."

Can't believe I forgot about that thing. I would swear that I can feel its breath.

"Don't think your little beast can kill a Stone Man." Snakha frowned at the bear. "Can it?"

"I..." Borstig shook his head. "I don't want Chumny to get hurt."

A hole formed in the Stone Men line and one stepped forward. Though Ivano knew almost nothing about these creatures he could instantly recognize a leader when he saw one. This Stone man was slightly smaller than the others, his armour was the same shade of brown but small green tassels like died, hanged from his ears, a crest of silver over the centre of his helmet. There was nothing else to distinguish him from the others.

The Stone Man snarled, even though all of their lips had receded to always show their yellow and rotten teeth.

“Human!” The Stone Man’s voice was nothing more than a guttural slur, all of their bodies were in a permanent state of decay and rot after all. There was no way their tongues would be unaffected. “Where are the Witches?!”

Everyone’s gaze fell upon Ivano.

Ivano slowly stepped to a position similar to the Stone Man on his side.

“Who am I speaking with?”

I didn’t even know they could talk. Normally you’d just try and eat us.

Ivano really didn’t care but it would not only potentially make a good impression it would buy him time, even if it was nothing more than a few heartbeats.

Witches? Like some old crone? A village healer? Who would be dumb enough to upset the Stone Men? Or…Who would be strong enough?

The Stone Man leader tapped his chest. “Jokulsson, the Seventh Imperator of the Iron Barrow Legions. And the man dishonoured by the treachery of the Clansmen.”

He rested the tip of his stone sword into the snow. “I thought your kind knew to stay away from Eldfjall Trelleborg.”

Ivano cleared his throat. “We haven’t travelled anywhere near your city. Everyone knows better than to go there. And I’m sure you’ve dealt with anyone stupid enough to dishonour you.”

Jokulsson’s face remained perfectly still. Slowly he nodded, not that Ivano could tell what the undead creature thought.

“These Clansmen,” He nodded back to the dead Fish Gutter. “Assisted a Witch in stealing a sacred artefact. Something that we have kept safe from you humans for generations-”

They have children? There are women Stone Men? That must be utterly horrifying…Unless they’re actually just dead humans.

“-For your own good.” Jokulsson snarled. “And now they almost have all of them.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t know what you’re referring too.”

Ivano wanted to simply tell him he had no fucking idea, but he knew it would only enrage the undead creature. A javelin wielding Stone Man turned away and spat something out. Ivano felt conflicted. For one they had some level of modesty, and a desire not to spit on their fellows, but its mouth was covered in fresh blood, strands of flesh stuck between rotten teeth. Fish Gutter flesh probably, judging by the dark markings, tattoos, covering the skin ribbons.

Jokulsson’s face softened somewhat. “So much destruction would be unleashed…And we would be too weak to stop it. But those Clansmen won’t be able to help the Witches anymore, at the very least.”

Does he mean the entire clan or just those they were chasing?

Jokulsson stared at Ivano. “Anyone that works with those Witches, after destroying the vault and desecrating the great tombs, will be destroyed.”

“We don’t know any Witches,” Ivano replied, keeping his voice calm. “Surely not like the ones you are after. Only healers and shamans. No one is stupid enough to try and enter your lands.” Ivano nodded to the dead Clansmen lying behind them, the javelin still pinning him to the ground. “Unless they want to end up like him.”

Jokulsson scoffed, more of a snarl. “We have the Clansmen we hunt.” A Stone Man picked at its teeth, freeing a small toe. Evidently, the Fish Gutters were likely all dead or eaten.

Is this just an advanced force? The fastest of the Stone Men? With thousands more behind? Those poor people, not understanding why these creatures descended upon them.

The Stone Men lines began to break, slowly retreating back along the trampled road. “If you find any Strega Witches, give them to us.”

Jokulsson smiled. “Their sealed lips are no defence against our methods.”

Ivano said nothing, keeping a keen on their Clansmen, as the Stone Men slowly retreated. They retrieved the stone javelin and the body, probably to eat on the return journey, and left them without a further word.

Arvid tapped Ivano’s shoulder, he hadn’t heard the man approach. “We going to see if those Fish Gutters are all dead?”

“Nope.” Ivano rested his axe over his shoulder. “We’re leaving right now. Before they come back and think we’re actually a part of…Whatever it is these Strega Witches are. Ever heard of them?”

Everyone shrugged, except for Brenna. She held her chin lightly.

“Maybe. I think I’ve heard of something like that.”

“Good thing they didn’t hear,” Snakha smirked.

“Maybe my parents mentioned it.” Brenna shrugged. “But that was a very long time ago. Before I went on my first raid. It’s all just a faint memory, but I’m sure that they were speaking with one.”

“Is your family near Eldfjall Trelleborg?” Sibbe asked.

Ivano clapped his hands. “Everyone pack up and get ready to move!”

The camp began to move once again, everyone acted like they hadn’t just come but a few moments from death. Ivano didn’t like his chances against their stone armour. And he didn’t have Mord’s fire axe either, though that was just one weapon.

“No.” Brenna sighed. “Not at all. But…I don’t know. I might be wrong. You want me…Oh.” Brenna laughed. “I can’t exactly go back. Not unless I’m prepared for a serious beating.”

“The further we stay away from that mess the better.” Ivano sighed. He looked at Borstig, still riding his creature, as Eric and Unina began to tentatively pat the beast. It accepted their gentle scratches with a pleasant smile, at least for a giant bear. “Maybe once we’ve got him leading the Wind Walkers we can figure out what any of that was.”