‘What do you mean?’ I asked, pressing my lips tightly together, holding back my laughter to not add to his embarrassment.
‘The horses are unsettled, sire. Several tried to bolt, injuring themselves on the ropes. Something’s spooked them, but we can’t find the reason,’ he said, promptly brushing the snow from his tunic.
I nodded, adding this information to the list of minor incidents that had plagued the army since we’d set out. ‘Keep your eyes open. There may have been wolves sniffing around the…’ I stopped trying to spare the boy. ‘The scent might be disturbing the horses. Use some ground fennel seed to mask the smell; it might help.’ I mounted Kary, and the boy nodded, stepping away when I urged my horse forward.
The roads were still visible under the snow, but an army couldn’t travel easily in these conditions. Heavy boots and hooves churned up the ground into a deep, grey mush that dragged at feet and wheels alike, slowing us significantly.
‘The reality of war,’ I muttered, spreading my cloak over Kary, ‘a few moments of sheer horror and weeks of trudging balls-deep in the mud.’
The questioning look my squire gave me provoked a knowing smirk, but I couldn’t blame him. He would learn that war was much less glamorous than the bard’s songs.
By the time we arrived at the village nearest to Wiosna’s border, everyone was at the end of their tether, and I had to stop my officers from snapping at the villagers who greeted us. Not that I didn’t want to twist their necks myself, since the welcome committee wielded pitchforks and torches while my scouts were nowhere to be seen.
‘Stay away! We have nothing left to steal!’ shouted the elderly man standing on a mound behind a palisade.
I scowled, remaining silent, gaze sweeping over our surroundings as Ivar, my Lord Marshal, spoke. ‘You have homes, barns, and workshops for the men to rest in. Open the gates, good sir. After all, you wouldn’t want the King of Dagome to sleep in a field.’
The palisade had been recently repaired, with fresh tree trunks standing beside their scarred counterparts, and others driven in at an angle, their tips sharpened and pointing outward to repel charging horses. Despite the need to preserve wood, the fires on the fortified mounds burned brightly, and the men with bows and scythes silently observed the forest, as well as the army.
‘I don’t care who you are. We fought off the dwarves, and we’ll fight you off. Why should I believe your claims? There are plenty of strange creatures and bandits from the mountains with their lies and strange clothing. Leave! Go back where you came from.’
The elder stood defiant, challenging us and only flinching slightly when Ivar gestured for the rest of the army to emerge from the treeline.
‘First, return the king’s men – and they’d better be unharmed. Then you have a choice. Either open the gates willingly, or we’ll open them for you,’ the Lord Marshal said calmly.
I’d chosen my new Lord Marshal for his cool composure, and he didn’t fail me. He wasn’t some youngster seeking glory or an ambitious man trying to earn a title. Ivar was a veteran of many campaigns and someone who cherished his men’s lives more than money or even victory.
I turned to my subordinate. ‘No, we won’t do that. You saw what happened in the last village. They’re just afraid,’ I said, nudging my horse closer to the gates. Ivar cursed under his breath when several bowmen aimed in my direction, but I didn’t stop until I could see their expressions clearly.
‘Stay away, wraith!’ someone shouted.
‘Wraith? What have you encountered that you don’t believe your own eyes, elder?’ My question hit the mark. The signs were subtle. His shoulders squared as if fear stiffened his posture. When the man’s knuckles went white from how hard he squeezed his axe, I asked another question. ‘What happened to the other village?’
‘The White Death came for them, and now you’ve brought it to us,’ he answered in a hollow, hopeless voice. ‘Leave! Now!’
‘Open this bloody gate. He’s no wraith,’ came a female voice from beyond the palisade, followed by the sound of shuffling and more muttering. ‘Bloody men, afraid of their own shadows. Open the gate, or I’ll hex your stupid head bald.’
Whoever this woman was, she clearly held a position of authority in the village because, after a short squabble, the gate opened a notch. A female, old and supporting her twisted spine with an equally twisted cane, stepped out, shuffling in my direction.
I dismounted, but even standing on the ground, the elderly woman barely reached my chest. As she struggled to look up at me, her neck twisted so much it must have caused her pain. My men murmured when I dropped to one knee to make it easier for us to talk. ‘So, you’re the king, huh?’
‘Yes, honoured elder. And you are?’ I asked.
Her brazen manner reminded me of someone else who was unafraid to speak her mind.You’d like her, Viper,I thought before the old woman’s snort of derision made me smile despite my best intentions.
‘Honoured elder, hah! Silly boy. I’m just Wrona. What do you want here? Have you come to protect us from the wraiths or to steal our winter stocks like the others before you?’ she asked, leaning heavily on her cane.
‘We have our own supplies, but I would beg your indulgence for my men. We seek a place to lay our heads that won’t be blown away,’ I said, and as we spoke, the gates opened wider and more curious villagers spilled out, cautiously observing our conversation. The defiant elder stepped forward to join Wrona. ‘However, if you’d tell me about the wraiths, I’ll see what we can do to help. We have battle mages in our ranks and enough men to chase away any physical threats.’
Ivar joined us, standing quietly beside me while the men drew closer to protect me.
‘We don’t have enough space for everyone, but you’re welcome to the safety of our palisade. Fire wards off the wraiths. It’s the only thing we’ve found that works. Their touch is death, sire.’ The elder’s tone was fearful, her head bowed so low that a humourless laugh slipped from my lips.
‘It seems I have Elder Wrona to thank for not perishing in a snow drift.’ I stood up and turned to Ivar. ‘I leave you and this good woman to allocate berths for the men. Station those who aren’t housed in the town square. You know the rest.’
Ivar nodded, and I extended my arm to Wrona with a gallantry usually reserved for the ladies of the court. ‘Please, join me, madam. I would appreciate it if you told me about your wraiths. This is the first I’ve heard of them.’
Wrona scoffed, but the hint of a smile tightening her lips warmed my heart. ‘The Mother was right when she told me to help you,’ she said, patting my hand as she took my arm. The elder led me to the inn, leaning comfortably on my strength. By the time we entered the dark interior, she was almost glowing, taking pride in pointing out every improvement the villagers had made recently.
