The Wolves and the Ice Lion by Boykin Alma T. C

Author:Boykin, Alma T. C.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-07-11T00:00:00+00:00

As all feared, winter returned with the coming of Lent. "At least our enemy doesn't like cold and ice either," Bjorn muttered. He and Arnauld and a few others stood in the shadow of the new, well-concealed watch point in the eastern road into the d'Vosges lands. Low clouds and sweeps of snow hid the Rhine Valley farther east. Nothing had moved for a week, at least nothing with sense. Which explained why Arnauld and the others stood here, out of the wind but still cold.

"Hell-beasts can move in the cold, but not many soldiers will. And you can't hold territory with hell-beasts," Arnauld reminded them. "Assuming that is his goal." An empty land paid no taxes and provided no power. He glanced up at the tops of the trees. Empty, save for a pair of leaves that refused to drop. They twirled a little in the weak wind that trickled down the back of the hill. Hints of green and spring teased in the most protected of corners, but not here. "He needs a proper army to follow the beasts, and that means moving men and supplies. We should have a few more weeks."

"We need them, sir." Bjorn shook his head. "Damn, but I didn't realize how weak we've gotten this winter."

Arnauld just nodded. They'd begun forcing the men to train and train hard. Arnauld's shoulders and hips hurt, and not just from his old injuries. Bruises didn't heal as fast as they had when he was eighteen or twenty. He'd also torn the skin on his left hand at archery practice. It had been so cold he'd not noticed until the blood fouled the bowstring. "Hunting wasn't enough. And families make it different." Over half the men had found wives and married.

"Ja. A wife's not just a bed warmer and laundress to be left on her own with a few coins." Bjorn sniffed. Then he sniffed again. "What's that?"

Arnauld too sniffed. "Tar, but not tar. Heavy like burning pitch, but not tree-scented." They exchanged grim looks. "From the east, I think."

They eased up the deer trail up the hillside, avoiding the main way above the wagon road. A smudge of black stood out against the grey and green-brown land below. They lay down and wiggled up to see more clearly without being seen. No smoke, no, but what was that? Arnauld mouthed something insulting. Then he rolled onto his back and pulled his bow out of the case, along with two arrows. He strung the bow. "Spot for me," he murmured to Bjorn.

"Ja." Bjorn's aim was good, but not that good. He had sharper long-sight than did his captain. "It's coming this way. Like a vulture, but not. Larger, bigger chest." Arnauld stayed flat on his back, bow in hand. Bjorn went flatter, if that were possible. "Damn, that's ugly. When you rise, it will be between us and the road, our right. It's getting higher, but not too high."

Arnauld took three breaths, calming himself and relaxing. He got the arrows ready.

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