James West - Queen of the North

“Yes,” she said, her mind filled with gruesome images of the iceworm climbing out of Zander’s corpse. A mercy that I can no longer hear it.

Aedran used a tree limb to stand, knocking loose a drift of snow that fell over them both with a muffled whoosh. The fluffy cold struck Erryn like a slap, and she scrambled to her feet.

The iceworms might have fallen quiet, but there were other noises in the moon-stippled forest. Faint sounds of men crashing through brambles, calling out to one another. Some of those who were closer snarled and cursed, much as Zander had before he fell.

Aedran took her hand. “Let’s get a little farther.”

They went together, him hauling her through snow that reached almost to her waist. Before she had been too frightened to feel the cold, but now its bitter touch began sinking into her limbs, stiffening them.

You cannot stop , she chided herself. And you cannot make him carry you again . This last angered her, for she knew in her heart that she had been letting Aedran and the rest of her army carry her ever since claiming Valdar and naming herself queen. So far in her short rule, she had done very little to mark herself out as a good and strong queen.

As she considered this, her anger rose higher, firming her resolve. Soon, she was matching Aedran stride for stride. With her lesser stature, the effort overstretched her endurance, left her chest heaving and her heart thumping, but she was willing to pay the price. Each time she faltered, she thought of what One Eye Thal had said. “ The worm drags him deep into the frozen earth, below the roots of the hardest frost. And there, his flesh begins to melt, like hot tallow, until naught but bones remain-bones a Joraxa makes into cradles for its unholy brood.” Those nightmarish words gave her strength to continue, where all else might have failed.

Erryn and Aedran kept on until the moon had climbed high into a sky filled with broken clouds, slashing the forest in silver and black. Erryn’s legs had gone numb as sticks, and her chest ached from drawing in huge breaths of freezing night air. Despite all her inner scolding, she was about to beg Aedran to stop. He must have sensed her fading, and halted at the edge of a snowy meadow before she could.

“What now?” Erryn gasped.

Instead of answering, Aedran studied the clearing. In the chilly light, Erryn recognized elk tracks and another set that might have been made by a frost leopard, or a bear late to its winter den. Swooping trails left by hares converged on the handful of gray-black briar thickets, each bowed heavily under snow. The faintest tracks were those of birds and mice, meandering in all directions. If any men had moved through here, they had not done so since the last snowfall.

Erryn glanced again at Aedran, poised to flee in any direction he pointed. Looking at his face, she realized there would be no more running. He means to make a stand here.

Aedran turned his head toward a stand of trees. Erryn followed his gaze, but saw nothing alarming.

“That you, lad?” came a soft voice, so close that the speaker might have stood at Erryn’s side. She loosed a startled yelp and spun, nearly losing her footing.

Aedran dropped a comforting hand on her shoulder and drew her closer. “One Eye Thal is a master at making his voice sound as if he’s somewhere other than he is.” Louder, Aedran said, “Aye, you old bastard! Who else would be guarding our queen?”

Relief and gladness filled Erryn’s heart at the sight of the captain creeping out of the gloom between two pines. More men materialized behind him, a long chain of them that quickly spread out to form a wide but sparse perimeter around the meadow. The moonlight was strong enough that Erryn recognized Captains Kormak and Romal, but there was no sign of Murgan. Counting heads, she estimated that One Eye Thal had brought near a hundred men with him.

The captain waded closer through the snow, every motion calculated, as if stalking game. He doesn’t trust his eyes . Erryn could not blame him, not after what had become of Zander.

He halted within arm’s length, head thrust forward, his good eye squinted down to a slit, peering first at Erryn, then Aedran. She returned his scrutiny. Blood flecked his gray beard-Zander’s blood-but nothing about him seemed out of character.

The grizzled warrior straightened. “So, lad, is this the best place you could find?”

Aedran spread his hands in apology. “The finest battlefields aren’t usually discovered while running through the night.”

“And rarer still after getting routed,” One Eye Thal put in with a rueful snort. “S’pose it’ll have to do.”

Aedran studied the diminished army. “So few.”

“Truth told,” One Eye Thal said, “other than those I have with me, I’m not sure I’d want to see anyone else, especially any of those who got bit back in Stormhold. Course, those fellows stayed away.” He waved a hand over the men who had joined him. “These lads are free of bites and otherwise hale … though, a couple shit themselves. I cannot hold that against them, as I damn near soiled my own trousers when that Joraxa crawled out of Zander.”

“What’s getting bitten have to do with anything?” Aedran asked.

One Eye Thal stroked his chin. “My mind’s been turning ever since I got on your trail, and it seems to me-” he cut off, his brow knotted up like a fist. Aedran waited calmly, but Erryn felt as if her skin were crawling off her bones. She knew the old captain was about to say something neither of them wanted to hear.

“Those caterpillars in Stormhold,” One Eye Thal began again, “must’ve laid eggs, or some such, inside Zander … and mayhap a lot more of us.”

“Eggs?” Aedran asked, doubtful.

“Aye, lad. Lucky for us, it seems only one egg can turn into a true Joraxa.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I’m not, but having more than one of those beasts growing inside a man would make for cramped quarters, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” Aedran allowed, running a hand over his lips. “But if you’re right, then a lot of our brothers are infested.”

“Aye, we could have near on half a thousand iceworms roaming the forest already.”

Aedran looked troubled. “None of the stories I’ve ever heard mention how to kill a Joraxa.”

“Not a one,” One Eye Thal agreed with a hard smile. “All I’ve ever heard is how folk end up melted down into spots of gravy to feed the little ones.”

“Then how do we kill them?” Erryn asked.

“With steel and wits,” One Eye Thal said. “Leastways, I hope that’ll work. If not, we’ll end our days as wormshit.” He laughed wildly, as did Aedran. Not for the first time, Erryn wondered what Prythians thought so humorous about dying.

Aedran sobered. “Best get a few bonfires going. They might help-” He cut off when One Eye Thal went rigid as a post. “What is it?”

“Something’s watching us.”

“Anything watching us this night, is also hunting us,” Aedran said.

Erryn saw that both men had drawn their swords. She followed suit, the short sword Nesaea had given her feeling like a chunk of useless iron in her hand. One day I’ll learn the use of this thing , she thought. A far less pleasant idea followed. But only if I survive the night.

They stood stiffly for a long time, but nothing moved in the forest, and none of the men guarding the edge of the clearing raised an alarm.

“Have half the men gather all the wood they can find,” Aedran ordered One Eye Thal. “Keep the rest on watch.”

One Eye Thal spun away and began bawling orders.

Erryn, feeling useless, watched and waited.