CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

All the heat was forgotten as the escorts stared at Thabita Nutlee.

Or rather, they stared at the tray she was carrying.

On it was a stack of wooden cups, a jug, and a large bowl piled high with ice.

ICE.

Like starving dogs, the group surrounded the smiling Thabita.

“I thought yah might be a little warm, so I brought something for yah.” She said, setting the tray down on a nearby stone table.

“Where...Did you get that?” Ryland asked.

“The juice? The peaches come from the inner valleys. At this time of year, we’re lousy with them and use them for everything.” She began putting ice chunks in the cups and then pouring the yellow liquid over them. “I’m sick of them myself.”

“No…” Ryland said, gesturing at the bowl. “The ice. How do you have ice in the middle of summer?”

“Oh. That?” Thabita handed a cup to Boarsmouth, who downed the contents in one swallow and then began noisily crunching the ice. “I got it from the ice caves.”

“You have ice caves?”

She nodded. “Big ones. You didn’t know?”

Ryland took the cup from her and sipped the sweet cold peachy nectar, enjoying every moment of the coolness inside his mouth. Then he looked at her - “Big? How big?”

A short time later, the group, except for Marlowe (who Dabbert had spirited off to his office in place of Roddy), were trudging towards where the town met the mountain on its north side. Thabita led them to what looked like a large storehouse set against the mountainside with huge oak double doors that when open would be able to swallow two or three carts tall and wide.

There was a smaller door to the side of the big ones, and they were washed over with cold air that made their sweat-soaked clothes into chill shrouds the moment they stepped inside the dimly lit space.

Thabita took a torch off the wall and lit it, which revealed that they were at the entrance to a large cave that was even bigger than the double doors suggested, and then she motioned for them to follow her.

Down they went into the cold, damp passage. Water was dripping from the ceiling and running down the walls all around them, and the thick gravel that had been laid down on the cave floor to walk on crunched wetly under their feet. Several groups of people past them going back out the way they’d come, carrying bags and some with bowls of ice like Thabita had earlier.

Eventually, after what seemed like a long distance of marching through several side tunnels, the air grew extremely cold, and then the view opened up to reveal a massive cavern that looked like it could hold the whole town. There was ice everywhere, and the whole cavern shone with reflections of their torches.

“This town was settled by me great grandparents,” Thabita said. “They found the ice caves and thought it would be a great place to store their food in the winter. Turns out they were right. It lets us store the food we bring here and keep it fresher until we can sell it up in the valleys or to the lowlanders.”

In the middle of the cavern was a large open space which had been covered in wooden platforms, and on the platforms sat bins and shelves. By Ryland’s count, there must have been nearly a hundred racks of shelves, and they were all filled with bags, boxes, and casks of food. He could see many bins filled with mounds of peaches, and next to them cherries, apples, and other fruits and vegetables.

“Is this the whole town’s goods?”

Thabita laughed. “No. Just me family’s. The other groups have their own caves. But, this one is the biggest.”

“Doesn’t the ice melt?” Asked Hein.

Thabita nodded. “It does, but new ice forms in the winters. Natural springs feeds it, plus we do a little adding of our own. Come spring, the ice goes right up to the edge of the wood, and then it slowly melts back over the summer and we rebuild it each winter.”

“A good system,” nodded the older mercenary. “Little wonder this place has been so successful.”

“Don’t things freeze?” Ryland said as the group walked down to the platform and began to look around.

“During summer, no. When it gets colder, they will, and we can’t keep fresh fruit or veggies in here when it gets late into fall. The fruits and vegetables will just turn to mush. We can eat them, but they don’t taste well.”

“I see,” Ryland said thoughtfully. “That is a problem, isn’t it? So you mostly eat frozen meats and other foods that store well?”

Stolen story; please report.

“Yah, plus what we dry and preserve.”

“Do you sell foods during the winter as well? To the other towns?”

Thabita nodded. “When we can get to them. We don’t trade as much in the winter, but we’ve got enough here to feed a whole army, so we can easily take care of the other settlement’s needs.”

Once everyone had done their tour, Thabita lead the shivering escorts back out into the warm summer day. The men who had cursed the heat only a short time before welcomed summer again with open arms and based in the mid-day sun.

When the registration process was finally finished, Jaxon re-appeared and lead them to a local inn for lunch. The inn-keeper was very gracious and served them high quality food with plenty of meat to show his hospitality.

“This is the life, isn’t it boys?” Jaxon laughed. “We take care of them, and they take care of us!”

After lunch, they wandered outside and Jaxon called them around.

“We’re done for the day. Dabbert will let you know at the inn if any of the small fry want to hire you for jobs. So check back when you can, just in case you’re needed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a lovely friend to visit.”

“Sir,” Ryland raised a hand. “We’re escorting a big caravan in a few weeks, correct?”

“Yep. Lots of money to be made there, let me tell you.”

Ryland nodded slowly. “Yes, and that’s good. But shouldn’t we be doing drill work?”

Jaxon fixed him with an odd look. “What now?”

“Training drills. Practicing for the caravan work.”

“Oh!” Jaxon laughed. “You’ll get plenty of exercise with the small jobs. Don’t let it worry you, Cade.”

“Yes...sir.”

Then Jaxon turned and left, a smile on his face and a skip in his step.

The others drifted away, and soon Ryland and Koamalu were left standing alone on the dusty street.

“I was afraid of that. He doesn’t understand even the smallest bit about escorting. I thought it might be like this when he didn’t use the journey here to train us, but it looks like it’ll be worse than I imagined.”

“Isn’t he right, though, uso?” Koamalu grinned “Escorting is about fighting. As long as we can fight, it’s all good, eh?”

Ryland shot a look at his friend. “Oh? Will be it good when a red wolf pack shows up? How about when people start dying from a wyrm’s breath? Goblin archers? How about when bandits drop trees on you? Or a rockslide? What will you do then? Do you think your spear and hard head are going to get you out of an avalanche? And what about the people who are going to die due to your carelessness? Are the dead going to cheer your fighting spirit?”

A fire had risen in Ryland’s eyes as he spoke, but when he saw the stunned look on Koamalu’s face he forced a smile. “I’m sorry. That was cruel. I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at this...situation. Escorting is a skill and an art - one which is all about preparation and knowing what to do when the time comes. As things stand now, we’ll be lucky if half of us aren’t dead the moment we run into trouble on the road.”

“Do you want me to call the others back?”

Ryland let out a sigh and shook his head. “Even if you did, they’re not going to listen to me. You saw them, they’re more interested in drinking and gambling than preparing.” Then he paused and looked at Koamalu thoughtfully, “Although...They might listen to you.”

But Koamalu raised his hands. “Hey, I’m no leader.”

“They like you and believe in you. Sometimes that’s all it takes. You’ll have me supporting you.”

“I know, but…” Koamalu shook his head. “I don’t think they’re going to listen to me.”

After a bit more discussion, with Ryland pushing and Koamalu dodging, Ryland finally gave in. “Fine, I can’t force you. But we need to get this group working together, and we don’t have much time. A lot of lives are going to depend on it - including our own.”

“So what do we do?”

Jandra was the first to notice it.

She was awakened by the smell of smoke drifting under her door.

Jolting upright, she pulled on her clothes and ran from the room into the smoke-filled hallway of the second floor.

“Fire!” She coughed. “Fire!” As she banged on the doors of the other rooms.

Soon, Prum joined her, clad only in his loincloth, and Marlowe.

“Where is it?” Prum yelled, wide-eyed.

“I don’t know,” Jandra replied, “We need to tell the people above!”

“You do that,” Marlowe said. Then he turned and ran back into his room.

Jandra and Prum looked at each other.

“I’ll get the old lady,” said Prum.

“I’ll tell the rest” Jandra replied as she ran for the stairs, but when she reached them she was knocked down as Roddy came leaping through the smoke at her. The two of them tumbling to the floor in a mess of limbs.

As they untangled themselves, Roddy jumped to his feet and took off into the smoke, and a moment later Jandra had only a moment’s warning before Boarsmouth also came crashing down the stairs at her. This time, she rolled out of the way before the other man hit her, and Boarsmouth was followed by Pat.

“Hey!” She called to Pat. “Is there anyone still up there?”

Pat paused for a moment, then shook his head. “Nobody’s been sleeping through this. Move it!”

Then Pat disappeared down the smokey stairs, followed by Marlowe, who had all of his possessions piled in his arms.

With a look upwards, Jandra scrambled to her feet and held her nightshirt against her mouth to help her breathe as she stumbled down the stairs into the main hall of the inn. There was no light here, and it was hard to see in the dark expanse as she stumbled around, falling over chairs and banging into tables.

Then finally she saw a square of light and ran for it, figuring it to be a door or a window.

When she found it, it turned out to be an open door, and she ran through it with all her might trying to escape...

When Jandra was six, she’d gone into the sheep pasture against her pa’s orders.

A ewe had given birth to a new lamb, and she wanted to play with it. So, she’d snuck out after dinner and gone to the pasture, opening the wooden gate and slipping inside. Then she’d wandered among the sheep, looking for the newborn lamb and its mother.

She’d found them, but just then heard some grunting and snorting.

Turning around, she found herself face to face with the ram of the flock, which charged right at her and slammed into her chest. The force knocked all the breath out of her and sent her flying back to land on the ground, the whole world being a spinning mess of lambs and herd dogs coming to her rescue.

This was the thing that came to mind as she lay there outside the inn, the world once again a spinning chaotic mess.

As she’d gone through the door, she’d been struck again, with a force that felt no less powerful that an adult ram’s head does to a six year old child. Then she’d been hit again and knocked sprawling into the ground, and dragged - gasping for air and still in shock - from the doorway down to the road.

As her senses came back to her, she realized there were coughing and moaning people all around her, and she way laying on someone’s leg. Slowly she came to realize she was in a pile of bodies, and standing around the bodies were five figures in cloth masks carrying torches and weapons.

“This all of them?” She heard one of the masked ones say.

“Yah.”

“Then throw the oil on them, and light them up.”