“Some,” Hamnet Thyssen agreed. “They don’t grow on trees, you know.”
Again, Ulric Skakki produced a cheery laugh from nowhere in particular. “Even if they did, much good it would do us. What could we harvest here? Toothpicks, by God!” That made Count Hamnet smile, too. The birches and willows and other would-be trees that grew on the frozen steppe never got bigger than calf-high bushes.
Setting a hand on his sword, Hamnet said, “This doesn’t shrink.”
“It had better not,” Ulric said. “But can we get close enough to cut up the Rulers, or will they shoot us before we do?”
“We’ll find out,” Count Hamnet said, and not even his argumentative countryman could disagree with that.
More and more riding deer and war mammoths came up over the horizon.
Closer and closer they drew. Till now, they’d seemed content to chase the Bizogots. By the way they came on, they had more than that in mind today.
“Can you summon the voles and lemmings?” Hamnet Thyssen called to Liv. “We’ll have a better chance if they’ve got to fight without their mammoths.”
“We can try,” Liv answered – and then she turned to speak to Audun Gilli. Count Hamnet knew they were only planning their magic together. All the same, he frowned and looked away. That wasn’t what he wanted to see right now.
It turned out not to matter. Liv and Audun had barely started their spell when whatever wizards the Rulers had with them struck first. It wasn’t the spell they’d used before; bugs didn’t choke the Bizogots and torment their animals. Instead, hawks and falcons and owls dove out of the sky, slashing at horses and riders alike. Wounded horses screamed in pain and surprise. A Bizogot not far from Hamnet Thyssen shrieked and clapped his hands to his face. Blood poured out between his fingers. Had cruel talons robbed him of an eye? Hamnet couldn’t be sure, but feared the worst.
Were some of those wheeling, hurtling owls wizards in sorcerous disguise? He had no way to be sure, but he feared the worst there, too. Trasamund actually caught a hawk out of the air, wrung its neck, and flung the corpse to the ground. Hamnet marveled at the feat without imagining for a moment that he could imitate it.
Ulric Skakki slashed a falcon out of the sky. Hamnet thought he might do that, but had no time to dwell on the possibilities. The birds of prey flew off as abruptly as they’d appeared, leaving the Bizogots in disarray and confusion. Then, shouting their harsh war cries, the Rulers rode in for the kill.
Archers shooting from atop a war mammoth pincushioned the Bizogot with the bloodied face. An arrow hissed past Hamnet Thyssen’s head, so close that he felt the fletching brush his beard. He shot at one of the men up there. The warrior of the Rulers jeered as the arrow went wide. Then one from Ulric Skakki caught him in the forehead. He crumpled, a look of absurd surprise the last expression he would ever wear.
Hamnet cut at another warrior on a riding deer. The fighter turned his first stroke, but the second one got home. When the Rulers were wounded, they cried out like any lesser breed. The warrior tried to fight on, but Count Hamnet cut him down.
He looked around again. Some of the Bizogots were still fighting fiercely. Others, though, streamed away from the Rulers as fast as they could. Riding deer trotted after horses. Seeing riding deer get past him sent a chill through Hamnet, a chill more frigid than any winter on the frozen steppe could bring. Surrounded, cut off. ..
“We’ve got to get out of this!” he called to Ulric.
“Well, yes,” the adventurer said. His sword had blood on it. “But how? Do you want to cut and run?”
Yes! Count Hamnet thought. Then he saw Trasamund pull his horse’s head around and ride off towards the northwest. “We can’t stay anymore,” Hamnet said, and pointed after the jarl.
“By God!” Ulric Skakki exclaimed. “What is this world coming to?”
“An end, I think,” Hamnet answered grimly. “When the Gap melted through, when the Rulers invaded . .. Everything we knew before is gone. It’s all different now. Even if we win, even if we find the Golden Shrine, it will never be the same.”
“I didn’t expect a philosophy lesson – which doesn’t mean you’re wrong,” Ulric said. “I’d better go look for Arnora, and you’ll want to find Liv. We’ll make for where the avalanche came down. I’ll meet you there – or I hope I will.”
“Luck,” Count Hamnet said. Ulric Skakki nodded.
Do I need to look for Liv? Won’t Audun take care of that? Hamnet swore at himself. Yes, he was letting defeat poison everything in his life. Before he could even think of finding the Three Tusk clan’s shaman, he needed to fight off another warrior of the Rulers. He wanted to kill the curly-bearded fighting man, but had to content himself with driving him off with a bleeding forearm.
There was Audun Gilli. And, sure enough, not far away was Liv. She wasn’t working wizardry against the Rulers now. She had a bow in her hands, and used it with as much skill if perhaps without quite the same strength as a man might have.
Neither she nor Audun saw the warrior riding up from behind them. Hamnet Thyssen shouted to distract him, then plucked out a dagger and threw it at the enemy. It wasn’t a proper throwing knife; it didn’t pierce him. But the thump against his side made him slow up and look around, which gave Hamnet time to engage him. Metal belled on metal as their swords clashed together.
“You are that one!” the warrior of the Rulers said in the Bizogot language. “They want you bad!”
“Well, they can’t have me,” Hamnet answered. His foe made as if to shout, but Hamnet’s sword went home then. The warrior looked amazed. He slowly crumpled from his riding deer.
Hamnet forgot about him as soon as he stopped being a threat. He grabbed Liv by the arm. “We have to get away!” he yelled.
“We can’t!” she said.
“The demon we can’t. Trasamund’s already gone,” Hamnet answered.
Her eyes widened. Her head swung, as if on a swivel. When she didn’t see the jarl, her features sagged in weariness and dismay. “Truly everything is lost,” she said, her voice quiet and amazed and all but hopeless.
“Not while we’re still breathing. Come on, before the Rulers close the sack around us,” Hamnet said. A heartbeat slower than he might have, he added, “You, too, Audun.”
“Yes,” the wizard said. “Maybe we’ll win another chance later. We can hope, anyhow.” He didn’t hesitate in talking to Hamnet Thyssen. Perhaps that meant he was a good dissembler. In another man, Hamnet would have thought it did. But he’d spent too much time at close quarters with the wizard to find it easy to believe. If Audun thought something, he usually said it. Ulric Skakki could smile and charm and say one thing and mean another. Not Audun.
Thinking of Ulric reminded Hamnet what the adventurer had said. “Let’s ride for the avalanche,” Hamnet said. “We can use the ice boulders for cover.”
“For a while,” Liv said. “We’ll get hungry there. If the Rulers want to sit around and starve us out, they can. And where do we have to go?”
“Up to the top of the Glacier, by God,” Count Hamnet answered. “They won’t look for that, and we may get away. And it’s something maybe no one’s ever done in all the history of the world.” The idea had intrigued him ever since it first crossed his mind.
It didn’t seem to intrigue Liv. “No one’s ever come back from doing it – that’s sure enough.” But she didn’t say no, not straight out. And she did guide her horse towards the northwest. So did Audun. So did Hamnet Thyssen.
Some Bizogots were riding in that direction. Others tried to break out to the southwest. Hamnet supposed they wanted to join up with the White Foxes. If they could, they might stay safe … for a while. He feared climbing the Glacier gave a better long-term hope – and climbing the Glacier was pure desperation.
A few warriors on riding deer had already got between the Bizogots and the Glacier. Liv shot one of them out of the saddle. She had more arrows left than Hamnet. He relied on the sword, and slew a warrior himself. When one of the Rulers started to attack Audun Gilli, his deer seemed to go mad, bounding off across the steppe at random despite his curses and, soon, his fist.