Chris Evans - Ashes of a Black Frost

No sooner had Konowa spoken the words than a shadow burst out of the darkness and entered the killing ground.

The shadow grew in size, filling the area on the road directly in front of Konowa’s musket. “Ready. . Aim. .” He hesitated before uttering the final command. The acorn against his chest was no longer cold. Konowa lifted his cheek from the stock and looked closer.

“Hold your fire! Hold your fire! It’s Rallie!”

Her Majesty’s Scribe appeared out of the dark in a swirl of snow. As it settled, her wagon and the team of camels pulling it became visible, making the sound of the creaking wood clear. She pulled on the reins and brought the camels to a halt. The beasts brayed and spit and shook their heads, clearly agitated. With the reins still bunched in her hands, Rallie stood up and looked at Konowa.

“Bit of a cold night for a walk. I thought you fellows might enjoy a lift.”

Konowa turned to the soldiers beside him to make sure they had lowered their muskets. It had been that close.

“On your feet,” Konowa said, relief making it difficult for him to keep his voice from shaking. “Get in the back and stay alert.”

They ran toward the wagon like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline, and Konowa realized that was pretty much the truth. He walked up to the front by Rallie, ignoring the camels, then turned to make sure all his men were aboard.

A set of large yellow teeth flashed out from the darkness and made a grab for Konowa’s right shoulder.

Konowa shouted and flung himself out of the way, punching wildly and missing. He landed hard on his back and his musket fell from his hand. He fumbled madly for his saber, which was now tangled up in his robe. His shako popped off his head as if the wings on it were giving it flight in the storm-driven wind. The blast of icy air on his scalp cleared his senses.

It dawned on him as he frantically fought to get the blade free that the black acorn hadn’t flared. He sensed several sets of eyes staring at him and he looked up.

“Come now, Major, the darling thing meant no harm,” Rallie said from six feet above him. Her four camels hitched in pairs in front of the wagon stared at him in direct contradiction. She sat back down on the wooden bench and teased out the bundle of leather reins in her hands.

“I beg to differ,” Konowa muttered, scooting back another few feet until he was well out of reach of the-less-than-darling thing’s teeth and hooves. Only then did he risk climbing to his feet, scooping up his musket first and then his shako. He placed it back on his head, all while keeping a wary eye on the camels. He heard a snicker and snapped his head around to look at the back of the wagon. Ten heads looking over the side of the wagon vanished in an instant.

Rallie’s reins snapped and the camels reluctantly turned away from him and began lumbering forward. Konowa let them pass, then jumped up onto the wagon to sit beside her. He set his musket between his legs and turned to look behind him. The soldiers were huddling together to stay warm in between bundles of supplies and what appeared to be at least some of the Viceroy’s things. They had their muskets pointed outward though and were scanning the darkness. None of them risked looking at Konowa, but a couple of them gripped their muskets tighter and leaned forward to indicate their dedication. Konowa growled, but he knew he didn’t blame them. He would have laughed, too, if it hadn’t been him on the wrong end of an angry camel.

“The sarka har can walk,” Konowa said, turning back to face the front, “and throw fire. Oh, and they explode now, too.”

Rallie sawed on the reins and the camels turned to the left, stomping through the deeper snow until they had turned the wagon around and were heading on the road in the same direction as the column. “Rather nifty, that,” Rallie said, her voice revealing more than a trace of fascination. “It seems they found some dragon eggs, Major. Lucky for us a brood nest only held no more than fifteen.”

“Dragon eggs. . Is the regiment okay? Did those trees attack?”

“The regiment continues much as it did before, although I must say the degree of overall jumpiness has risen sharply. Three members of the rear guard made it back in time to warn us and with the 3rd Spears leading the way, they dispatched another six of the sarka har . It was a remarkable sight, but I guess I don’t have to tell you that.”

“No, I have a pretty good idea what that looks like,” Konowa said. “And the Darkly Departed?”

“Stellar service, as always. Private Renwar made sure of it. Why?”

“We could have used their help,” Konowa muttered.

“Ah,” Rallie said, leaving it at that.

“But dragon eggs? How did they find any out here?” Konowa asked, choosing to change the subject. “I don’t recall hearing about dragons in these parts for centuries.”

Rallie didn’t answer right away. When she did, she chose her words carefully. “Do you think me. . mysterious, Major?”

“You’re a woman,” Konowa blurted out before he could stop himself. “I find your entire species mysterious.”

Rallie chuckled. “Oh what I wouldn’t give to see you appointed to the diplomatic corps one day. But truly, do I seem different?”

The heat generated from his close encounters was rapidly dissipating and Konowa shivered, pulling his robe closer around him. “If you’re asking if I think you know a lot more than you let on, yes. Do I think you have your reasons for that, yes. Do I care, not really. You’ve more than earned my respect and gratitude. I have no doubt that if there was something I needed to know, and you knew it, you’d tell me.”

“Why, Major, you’ve made an old woman blush,” she said, and by the timbre of her voice, he could tell she wasn’t joking.

“Why do you ask?” Konowa said. “You’ve never seemed too concerned about what anyone thought about you before now.”

Rallie stared ahead, her cloak billowing as the wind picked up. “I can accept the aches and pains of old age, but losing one’s memory wasn’t part of the bargain.”

Konowa sensed a shift in her mood to something darker. “What are you talking about? You’re as sharp as a box of tacks.”

Rallie nodded, but kept looking straight ahead. “It used to be two boxes,” she said. “I’m old, Major, older than you think, in fact, older than I think I think.”

It was tempting to ask her if she’d been drinking, but Konowa knew better. “We are going to make it through this, you know,” he said at last, hoping it was the right thing to say.

This time Rallie did turn and look at him. Her eyes were misty, but there was a smile on her lips. “That, Major, was the perfect thing to say.”

They rode on in silence with only the creaking of the wagon and the wind disturbing the night. Konowa fidgeted on the wooden bench. He was still keyed up from the battle. His thoughts were a mess. What was up with Rallie? He hoped it was just the cold and the dark. She’d always been a rock; the idea that even she could crack wasn’t something he’d considered. And what of Renwar? He wanted to rail at the soldier for abandoning them to the sarka har, but was it malice on his part, or sound judgment? A rear guard was often sacrificed in order to give warning to the rest of the column. Konowa tried to convince himself that’s what had happened, and failed. He shook his head and tried to think of something else.

“It’s cold,” he said, blowing on his hands before tucking them into the folds of his robe. A sudden thought popped into his head. “Will your creatures survive weather like this? All the ones you let go back at the canyon?”

Rallie turned and looked to the north before turning back. “Dandy and Wobbly are survivors. I’ve every expectation of seeing them again. The sreexes should be all right if they stayed together as a flock, but in this wind it’s difficult to say. Alas, it’s my brindos I fear for. A bit delicate, if you want to know the truth. I fear I coddled them, but they are such adorable animals, so how could I not?”