Queen of the North (Book 3) (Songs of the Scorpion) (31 page)

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.

Chapter 29

In short order, the Prythians had carved out and smoothed a wide area at the heart of the meadow. They used excess snow to build a broken circle of steep-walled ramparts divided at four points by roaring bonfires. Ramps on the inside led to the top of each section of wall, where guards stood watching the forest. Outside the ramparts, below the watchmen’s feet, bristling hedges of wooden spikes waited to impale enemies. Men not looking for iceworms continued cutting down small trees to use as spears and to feed the fires. If they were to survive till dawn, Aedran had told the soldiers, they would need constant fire and light. None of them needed another reason to gather as much wood as they could.

Erryn stood near the bonfire at the center of camp, first warming one side, then turning to heat the other, her eyes following the ongoing preparations.

“If any of us are still alive come morning,” she said to Aedran, “what then?”

Aedran surveyed the men and the fortifications. “We’ll make all haste to the River Sedge.”

And to my surprise
, Erryn thought, not really caring what awaited her there. “The caterpillars at Stormhold were drawn to our heat,” she said, looking at the fires set between the ramparts. At first, the flames had melted the edges of the broken walls, but once the flames died back a little, the wet sheen had become a glaze of ice. “Fire is sure to attract them.” She meant it as a warning, but Aedran was of another mind.

“Aye, that’s my hope. With any luck, the iceworms will come and die upon our blades. That’s better than us hunting them.” Without warning, he moved off to speak with One Eye Thal, Kormak, and Romal. So far, Captain Murgan was still absent.

Watching him go, Erryn again drew the sword Nesaea had given her. The hilt was cold through her gloves, but the weight of the weapon, the promise of its keenness, calmed her. She wondered if Lady Nesaea ever felt unease when she ceased being the mistress of a troupe of entertaining women, and became a general commanding a company of skilled warriors.

Erryn decided Nesaea knew nothing of nervousness. In all she did, the woman was the picture of confidence and poise. No one would ever catch her shaking in her boots on the eve of battle.

Not like me … so afraid that I’m near to pissing myself.
Erryn wished she could feel some of Nesaea’s sureness. Right now, she couldn’t help but pray all this was a terrible dream from which she would soon awaken.

But this was no dream.

To her mind, that left only one choice. A
queenly
choice.

When Aedran and One Eye Thal returned, they both glanced at her sword, their eyes approving. Their expressions changed when she said, “We must retreat.” The command sounded frail to her ears, uncertain, but it was out now, and she felt as if a crushing weight had lifted off her chest.

“Where would we go?” One Eye Thal asked, giving no indication that he agreed. Aedran was also looking at her, his features unreadable.

To him she said, “You mentioned there was something waiting for me at the River Sedge … a surprise. If by that you meant safety, then we should make for the river at this very moment.” Now her voice sounded surer. “Even if there’s no safety at the river, we should still retreat, lest I lose what little is left of my army.”

One Eye Thal glanced at Aedran. “You told her?”

“Not enough to spoil anything,” Aedran answered, flashing an unconvincing smile.

“Why mention it at all?”

Aedran shrugged helplessly. “Our queen should know our destination.”

One Eye Thal rubbed his face. When his hand fell away, he had put on a belated grin. “Just so, lad, just so.”

Erryn looked between them, disliking the idea that they had kept secrets from her—something far more important than a mere
surprise
, by One Eye Thal’s reaction.
I’ll deal with them and their secrets later
, she silently promised, anger overriding her fear.

She raised herself up, prepared to issue a formal command before either man could attempt to talk her out of it, but a warning cry from atop the wall stilled her tongue. A second later, a piercing whistle echoed through the forest.

“Ready the men,” Aedran said to the captain.

One Eye Thal nodded and spun away. A moment later, everything had become a chaos of movement. Shouting men sprinted up the ramps, doubling the number of warriors on each section of the wall. Others moved to guard the narrow openings on either side of the bonfires, each bearing hastily made spears. Above the racket, the iceworms’ shrilling cries came closer.

“They’re all around us,” Erryn said, sword held before her.

“If we survive this,” Aedran said, eyeing her wavering blade, “remind me to show you how to use that damned thing. For now, just remember to poke at their eyes and underbellies.” Between him and the captains, that was the best strategy they had come up with.

“
If
we survive?”

“Gold and glory demand their own price, and that fee is usually wet and red.”

Blood
, Erryn thought with a shudder. A sudden half-mad chortle bubbled past her lips. “If we survive this, I expect—” she paused to shake her head briskly “—no, I
demand
that you put aside all the adoring nonsense you heap upon Prythian queens, and treat me as a
woman
.”

His gaze flickered uncertainly. “What you want is forbidden.”

Erryn ground her teeth in frustration. “I care not about what is forbidden.”

“Nor do I,” Aedran admitted softly. “It is wrong that I can so easily imagine putting aside my duty and destiny … but for you, in this matter, I would.”

Her heartbeat increased. “So, you will do as I ask?” The grave way the words came out, she might have been asking him to die for her, instead of sharing her bed.

Aedran swallowed. “It would be my greatest privilege and, doubtless, my greatest pleasure.”

Erryn’s cheeks burned under his steady blue gaze. “We’ll see about that.”

“Indeed,” he said, and barked sudden laughter.

Her insides fluttering, Erryn looked away before he could take anything back and deny her again. They stood unspeaking for a long while. The camp grew silent, save for crackling bonfires.

“I want to go up on the wall,” Erryn said.

Aedran shook his head. “This is the safest place.”

Erryn scanned the camp. “You know as well as I that bonfires and walls of snow offer little safety.” They also needed more weapons—namely bows, of which there were only four or five among her men, and far too few arrows. “Take me to the wall, general,” she said. Then, to soften the order, she added, “If anything happens, you have my permission to drag me back here.”