Frostborn: The Eightfold Knife (22 page)

“How could your father do this to us?” said Rosanna. “Why did he betray us to an urdmordar?”

“Because he is a coward,” said Gavin. “He has always been a coward. He let Morwen control him, and he sold out our neighbors the urdmordar.”

He got angry when thought of it, so angry he wanted to shout and hit things. He vowed to make his father pay for what he had done. 

“I’m sorry,” said Rosanna.

Gavin blinked. “For what?”

“For not thinking of you,” said Rosanna. “Your home was burned, too. And to find out that your father did those things…Gavin, I know you never got along with him, but it still must be horrible. 

“Don’t worry about me,” said Gavin. “You lost more than I did. But Philip could still be alive.”

“Maybe,” said Rosanna, her lip twitching. 

On impulse he grabbed her hand, and she looked at him, surprised.

“I don’t know if Philip is still alive,” said Gavin. “I don’t know if any of the others are alive, either. But I promise you that I will not rest until I find a way to free them.”

She smiled. “Thank you. It…without you, Gavin, I think I might lie down and cry until I died.”

He wanted to lean in close and kiss her. He wanted that more than anything. But he knew that she was crying for Philip. 

So he made himself smile and let go of her hand. 

“You’re welcome,” he said. 

“The Gray Knight,” said Rosanna, looking at Ridmark. “Do you think he knows what he is doing?”

“What do you mean?” said Gavin. 

“This place we’re going,” said Rosanna. “Urd Arowyn. Do you think the arachar orcs took the captives there?”

“It makes sense,” said Gavin. “I saw the inside of Urd Dagaash.” Even after everything that had happened, she still shivered at the name. “There isn’t enough to room to keep everyone there, especially if Agrimnalazur’s servants have been kidnapping beastmen.” He shrugged. “And if he’s wrong, he knows how to follow trails. That many people will have left a wide trail. We can follow them to the ends of the earth.” 

“Do you think we can even get them back?” said Rosanna. “Even if we find them?”

“If anyone do it, it’s the Gray Knight,” said Gavin.

Rosanna looked doubtful.

“We would have died in Urd Dagaash,” said Gavin. “Those spiderlings should have killed us all. But Ridmark defeated them. A dozen spiderlings, and he killed them all. And those assassins that Sir Paul brought with him? Ridmark killed them, too.” He shook his head. “Lady Calliande’s magic is powerful, and Kharlacht is a strong warrior. Brother Caius even fights, and he is a friar! Rosanna, if anyone can find a way to rescue our neighbors, it is the Gray Knight and his friends.”

“I hope you are right,” said Rosanna.

They kept walking, following Ridmark’s lead.  

###

Ridmark crossed the stream and cast about for the trail.

It was not hard to find. Nearly six hundred people had been taken from Aranaeus, and Ridmark suspected they had been captured by around one hundred and fifty orcs and humans. Such a large group had left a trail that a child could have followed. 

“There,” said Ridmark. “They went that way. They’re circling around the base of Urd Dagaash’s hill.”

“Then you were right,” rumbled Kharlacht, “and they are making for Urd Arowyn.”

“Most likely,” said Ridmark. “Or another ruin in the hills, or a cavern where the urdmordar could hide her larder. But the arachar are probably making for Urd Arowyn.”

And they would do so slowly. Six hundred men, women, and children would not travel quickly. Ridmark’s small group, even with Father Martel on the mule, could overtake the prisoners.

Though he had no idea what to do then.

There were between one hundred and fifty and two hundred arachar, their strength and prowess enhanced by Agrimnalazur’s blood. Ridmark’s group had seven people, two of them a tired old man and a girl who had never lifted a weapon in anger. If they tried a direct confrontation, they would die.

Ridmark had to think of something clever.

The beginnings of a plan simmered at the edge of his mind. 

Ridmark looked at the trees around them, scanning the ground for the trail of the captives and the arachar, but his mind turned back to Calliande. She had come after him once Paul and his hirelings from the Red Family had attacked, but she couldn’t have known that he was in danger. 

Yet she had come anyway. 

Her concern touched him, though he did not deserve it. He wondered who she had been in her previous life, before she had gone to sleep away the centuries in the dark vault below the Tower of Vigilance. Even before her magic had returned, she had been brave. What would she be like if her memories resurfaced? 

If he wanted the answer to that mystery, he would have to go to Urd Morlemoch and pry the secret out of the Warden. Or find the Dragonfall place she had remembered. 

“Is something amiss?” said Kharlacht.

“Hmm?” said Ridmark, shaking off his reverie. There was a time and a place for such musings. Tracking a band of arachar through the hills of the Wilderland was neither. “Nothing more than is obvious, I fear.” 

Kharlacht nodded. “The situation is dire. But no more dire than the siege of Dun Licinia, and you found a way to break that.”

Ridmark frowned. “I had little enough to do with it. Sir Constantine came with reinforcements, and Calliande broke the spells around Qazarl. I only…”

He stopped, raising a hand, and the others halted.

“What is it?” said Calliande.

“Father Martel, Rosanna,” said Ridmark. “Have you ever spoken to a beastman before?”

Rosanna shook her head.

“I have seen them from afar,” said Martel, “but never spoken with one.”

“That’s about to change,” said Ridmark. “Get off the mule and hold it steady. It might panic. Try not to stare at any of the beastmen, but if you do, for God’s sake do not break eye contact. If they become hostile, stay near Calliande. They’ll do whatever she tells them to do.”

Rosanna’s eyes grew wide, but the old priest nodded. 

A few moments later the lupivirii appeared out of the surrounding forest. There were nearly a score of them, and they moved into a loose ring around Ridmark’s group. One of the lupivir moved forward on all fours, and then reared up on his legs. His form shifted and blurred, and Ridmark found himself looking at Rakhaag son of Balhaag son of Talhaag.

“Rakhaag son of Balhaag,” said Ridmark, meeting the lupivir’s gaze.

Rakhaag growled and began speaking orcish. “Ridmark son of Leogrance.” His breath hissed through his fangs. “It seems the words you spoke to the True People were not false words.” 

“You saw what happened to the village, then?” said Ridmark.

“Yes.” The lupivir moved closer. “We saw the men and orcs who have been taking our young, a great pack of them. They descended upon the village with metal weapons and fire, and took many captives.”

“Do you know where they went?” said Ridmark.

“You are upon their trail,” said Rakhaag. “I believed they would go to Urd Dagaash and overwhelm you within the ruins. But instead they circled around the hill and went to the north.” 

“Then you see,” said Ridmark, “that the men of Aranaeus did not take your females and your young?”

“No,” said Rakhaag. “You told it truly. But it seems there are traitors within the men of Aranaeus.”

“What do you mean?” said Ridmark. 

“A man of Aranaeus commanded the tainted men and tainted orcs,” said Rakhaag.

“Describe him,” said Ridmark.

Rakhaag closed his eyes, no doubt communing with the great memory of the lupivirii. “Old. Older than you. Curly gray hair. He smelled sick. A woman was with him. She smelled…tainted, as did the orcs.”

“The man was Cornelius, the praefectus of the village,” said Ridmark. Gavin looked up at the mention of his father’s name. “The woman was Morwen, his wife. And they, I fear, are responsible for kidnapping your females and your young.”

Rakhaag bared his fangs. “You will tell me more.”

“Do you know,” said Ridmark, “of the urdmordar?” 

A violent shudder went through Rakhaag, and the other lupivirii growled.

“The great spider-devils,” said Rakhaag. “They are death made flesh, and they weave webs of lies and dark magic. Ever since the great memory first began upon this world, they have tormented us and hunted us.”

“You said the orcs smelled tainted,” said Ridmark. “They are called arachar. They drank of the blood of the urdmordar Agrimnalazur to make themselves stronger and faster.”

“The True People have faced such foes before,” said Rakhaag. “The great memory records that the dark elves brought us to this world to fight their wars. But then the dark elves summoned the urdmordar, and the spider-devils enslaved them. The True People fled south to escape the urdmordar, for no one can stand before them.” His fangs clicked. “And these arachar took the humans of Aranaeus?”

“Aye,” said Ridmark. “And they took your kin.”

“Why?” said Rakhaag. “The urdmordar have hunted us before, but never sent their slaves to do it for them.”

“Because,” said Ridmark, “the Staffbearer has returned.”

He did not dare look away from Rakhaag, but he heard the crunch of fallen leaves as Calliande came to his side.

“You know why the Staffbearer has awakened,” said Ridmark. “The Frostborn are returning, unless we find a way to stop it. The urdmordar know it, too. So they are preparing, like a squirrel storing nuts for the winter. Agrimnalazur sent her servants to kidnap men and women, both human and of the True People, and bring them to her lair. Then she will use her venom to put them into a deep sleep, and feed on them while the Frostborn cover the world in ice.”

“This news is dire,” said Rakhaag. “An urdmordar is a terrible foe.”

“They are,” said Ridmark, “but I suspect I know where Agrimnalazur’s servants have taken your missing females and young.”

“Where?” said Rakhaag. 

“A dark elven ruin several days north of here,” said Ridmark. “A place called Urd Arowyn.”

Rakhaag recoiled, breaking gazes with Ridmark. Ridmark lifted his staff, wondering if Rakhaag intended to attack. But Rakhaag did nothing, and after a moment Ridmark realized what had happened. 

The name had made Rakhaag recoil.

“That is an evil place,” said Rakhaag, “worse than Urd Dagaash.”

“I take it anyone who enters Urd Arowyn never returns?” said Ridmark. If a female urdmordar laired within the ruins, that made sense.

“Yes,” said Rakhaag. “But a greater evil dwells within the fortress. If anyone enters the ruins, the dead rise to attack them. And sometimes packs of the dead issue from the gates and drag the living within the walls.”

“The dead?” said Ridmark.

“Desiccated and dry,” said Rakhaag. “They reeked of dark magic.”

“Not dead, but undead,” said Calliande. “Urdmordar are thrifty creatures. Once they devour their victims, often they keep the corpses and use their black magic to raise them as guardians.”

“Evil magic,” said Rakhaag.

“Yes,” said Ridmark. “That is your true foe, Rakhaag. Not the arachar, the orcs with tainted blood. Not the traitors within Aranaeus who sold their neighbors to the urdmordar. They are only the tools of Agrimnalazur. She is the one who has taken your females and young, and if we do not stop her, she will feast upon them all.”

“Then we are extinct,” said Rakhaag. 

“Extinct?” said Ridmark. 

“Most of our females and young were taken,” said Rakhaag. “Not enough females remain to sustain our numbers. Soon we will fall victim to disease and the hunt and old age. Our numbers shall dwindle, and we shall only be a memory.” 

“Unless we retrieve your females and children from Urd Arowyn,” said Ridmark.

“We cannot,” said Rakhaag. “You cannot. The True People cannot defeat an urdmordar. We can only flee from them.” 

“The men of Andomhaim have defeated the urdmordar,” said Ridmark.

“When they had magic,” said Rakhaag. “The great memory knows this. You have no magic, Ridmark son of Leogrance. You have no way to harm an urdmordar.”

“The Staffbearer has magic,” said Ridmark.

Again Rakhaag looked away, his yellow eyes focusing on Calliande. “Is your magic strong enough to slay an urdmordar, Staffbearer?”

Calliande stood with her chin raised, like a queen addressing her subjects. “I will not lie to you, Rakhaag son of Balhaag son of Talhaag. I have magic, but it is not enough to kill an urdmordar. Not without help.”

“Then it is futile,” said Rakhaag. “The True People must withdraw from these hills, and hunt until death takes us.” His rasping voice was heavy with sorrow. 

“No,” said Ridmark.

Rakhaag snarled, slashing at the air with a clawed hand. “What would you have us do? We cannot defeat the urdmordar.”

“No,” said Ridmark again, “but we need not kill Agrimnalazur to get your kin back, do we? We need only enter Urd Arowyn and escape with them.”

Rakhaag blinked. “What do you mean?”

“It is simple,” said Ridmark. “We will enter Urd Arowyn in disguise, find a way to rescue the prisoners, and escape with them.”

“Madness,” said Rakhaag. “You will almost certainly perish in such an attempt.”

“Indeed,” said Ridmark. “And you might as well. But you are going to die anyway, are you not? How do you want to die, Rakhaag? Alone in the wilderness, dying of old age and hunger, the last of the True People?”

Rakhaag growled, stepping closer.

“Ridmark,” said Calliande.

“Or,” said Ridmark, “would you rather die fighting to free your females and young from lives of slavery? Those are the choices before you. I am going to Urd Arowyn, and I am going to free the prisoners or die trying. I would have you accompany us, if you would.”

“To what end?” said Rakhaag.

“Many hands,” said Ridmark, “make for light work.”

Actually, he was not sure what the lupivirii could do. He needed to have a look at Urd Arowyn before he decided upon a plan of action. Nevertheless, their aid would be useful. The arachar were fearsome fighters, but so were the lupivirii. 

Rakhaag said nothing. For the first time Ridmark saw hints of doubt, even fear, on his thick features. The beastmen did not live long lives, and Rakhaag could not have been much older than Gavin. Now the alpha had to face terrible foes, make decisions that could kill every member of his pack. Even the great memory could not offer much guidance.