Bloodmark (The Kingsmen Chronicles #2) by Jean Lowe Carlson

Author:Jean Lowe Carlson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: diana gabaldon outlander series, epic fantasy action, epic fantasy magic, sword and sorcery series, sword and sorcery epic fantasy, adventure fantasy sword magic, george rr martin a game of thrones, joe abercrombie the first law, robert jordan the wheel of time, patrick rothfuss kingkiller chronicles
Publisher: Jean Lowe Carlson

CHAPTER 25 – ELOHL

Ice scoured Elohl’s cheeks. A ferocious wind ripped at his facewrap, threatening to tear back his hood. His gloved hands upon his iceaxes were numb, but still, they picked his way up the ice wall in the yawning crevasse with a steady rhythm. Elohl’s hands moved right, deftly avoiding a hairline fissure that could have led to a vicious splitting of the glacial wall.

And a drop into a black chasm through skirling snows to who-knew-where.

Vaguely, Elohl heard Fenton’s call through the cut of the ice-edged wind. Three tugs came upon the rope. Elohl set an ice-iron and clipped in by his leather harness, peering down through the blizzard. Resting, he set one iceaxe in the wall so he could flex his numb hands. He watched Fenton fifteen feet below, managing a tangle in the gear-lines from the merciless wind. It was bad and Fenton was tired, his gloved hands moving sluggishly, fingers unable to pull the knots.

They were both exhausted from battling the fierce wind that whipped thirty knots faster through these cuts than up on the surface of the glacier. It had been thus for more than a week. Elohl gazed around the sheer sheet of ice they traversed. The top of the crevasse was too far, more than three hundred spans up. He couldn’t see it through the blizzard, but he knew from counting his movements descending the side they had come down, before crossing the snowy chasm at the bottom.

Glancing to the side, Elohl searched for someplace to rest. And found it. He tugged the rope four times. Fenton set another iron to stabilize the load and looked up. Elohl gestured to the dark hole in the ice he could barely make out through the skirling snow, fifteen paces right. Fenton narrowed iced eyelashes against the wind, glancing right. He nodded, relief plain upon his swathed face. Setting irons laterally, Fenton began to take the load of their packs over towards their destination.

Elohl did the same. They crab-set the load to the right for a fifteen-span, and then Elohl was at the lip of the dark ice bubble. Ice bubbles were tricky, but they could save a man’s life. This one was sturdy, with a strong lip. Elohl could see the hole burrowed nearly twenty feet back into darkness and had a solid floor. Setting two irons inside the lip, he hoisted up, then clipped in the line. Sitting just inside the stout edge, he gasped deeply to catch his breath, monitoring the edge for Fenton. Presently, Fenton came up and over, clipping in and turning to haul on the pulleys to bring up the gear. His face swaddled in furs and a thick wrap, all Elohl could see was the relief in Fenton's eyes as Elohl gave him a hand. In moments, they had the gear up and in.

Moving further back into the ice cave, Elohl set irons so they could move about freely. Each man tugged the lines, making sure they were

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