"The Lady of the North - Extended Version" by Imelda Weijers

   Winter had arrived early that year and with it came the fear it would be our last. Like every year, the first heavy snowfalls had closed up Shawfort Pass, cutting us off from the Kingdom. Like every year, at least one of the orc tribes would come out of the forest to attack us. Like every year we would defend the fortress.
   Shawfort Fortress, build almost a century ago to keep the orcs on the north side of the Thalurean Mountains after the armies of the Kingdom had driven them from their lands. A rough band of soldiers now manned this first defence against an orc invasion. Hardened veterans or troublemakers, the lot of us. Those that had problems with discipline at what we called a 'normal' post were sent here. Not because the rules were stricter here (they were, but that's beside the point), but because out here, the only trouble you could find was running into orcs. And that was not kind of trouble anyone would go looking for. You didn't have to though, it was near impossible to avoid.
   Wedged between the high peaks of the Thalurean and the desolate snowfields of the White Plains, the orcs were always trying to get back to the Kingdom side of the mountains, back to the lands that had once been their own. In summer, their attacks were half-hearted, more like skirmishes to let us know they were still out there. In winter, their attacks were more aggressive. As long as the clans were divided, they didn't pose a serious threat, though there was always the risk, always the fear that some of us would die defending the Fortress. Still, we kind of welcomed the winter attacks. For above all else, we were soldiers, we were loyal to our King and willing to die defending our Kingdom, no matter the cost. And it gave us something to do.

   Four days had past since the closing of Shawfort Pass when I slowly crossed the courtyard from the barracks to the main keep, snow crunching beneath my boots. I pulled my cloak tighter around me. It had finally stopped snowing, but it was still bitterly cold. Part of me wanted to hurry, to get back inside again, where it was warm, as quickly as possible. But a bigger part of me dreaded the lecture and punishment I was about to receive. Two days ago I had started a fight with Braston, one of the new guys. Only one punch had been thrown before they broke us apart. And though his broken nose might actually improve the ugly man's face, our commander hadn't been too pleased about it and had ordered me to come see him in his office. I feared I'd be shovelling snow the rest of the day.

   Without a word, the soldier standing guard outside the commander's office opened the door to let me in, closing it again the moment I was through.
   "Ah, there you are. You know Marcus, don't you?"
   I looked over to fireplace and the tall man standing next to it. I had seen him around a few times and knew him by name, but we had never spoken to each other. Figuring the commander wasn't interested in those facts, I simply nodded.
   "Yes sir," I added, wondering why the scout was here. The only reason I could think of was that I would be sent on a scouting mission with him, as part of my punishment, but I doubted it.
   "Marcus brought some disturbing news," the commander continued. "Tell him."
   "Hrothgar has united the clans and is readying a vast army. They will be upon us before the first spring thaw, so they can march on the Kingdom as soon as the Pass clears."
   His report was brief, but couldn't have been any clearer. If the orc tribes were united, we didn't stand a chance. But why tell me?
   I asked.
   "We need to send a message to the Kingdom."
   "Cross the Pass at this time of year?" I asked.
   "No, off course not, that would be impossible. I want you to take a small party to Gaedolin."
   "To Gaedolin?" I repeated, comprehension finally dawning.
   The commander was right. Our only hope was to reach Gaedolin, the city of the Iyach'Naphrael or, as they were commonly called, the Ice Elves. They wouldn't come to our aid, but at least we could send messages to the Kingdom from there, carried by the Imphrahlii, the riders of the white dragons.
   "Why me?"
   "Because you are the only one inside this fortress who has been there before. Look, I know it won't be easy. The trip will take you straight through the orc-infested Ingrath Forest and across the White Plains, but at least you'll have a chance to survive."
   Again, the commander was right. Staying here, defending the fortress, would mean certain death. But still...
   As if reading my thought the commander added softly.
   "You'll be serving your Kingdom more by going than you would by staying behind."
   For the third time, the commander was right.

   "Right," I said, pointing at the map lying on the table. The commander had chosen four men to accompany me on the desperate attempt to save the Kingdom. I was more than pleased that my best friend, Crale, was one of them. The only one I wasn't comfortable with was Braston, the ugly soldier I had fought with a few days earlier. As it turned out, I hadn't broken his nose, but it was still badly bruised. The commander wouldn't listen to my protest, saying that whatever differences the two us had should be set aside. There were more important things at stake here.
   The other two, Rahm and Lokar, I didn't know that well. But I was sure the commander had good reasons to pick them.
   "Right," I repeated. "In case something happens to me, gods forbid, you all should know the route we'll be taking. We'll go strait north from here, and cross the bridge over the Eldgull. From there, we turn east, following the river to where the Sirinth joins it. Then we turn north again, out of the forest, all the way across the White Plains until we reach Gaedolin. Going through Ingrath Forest won't be easy, but that's nothing compared to crossing the Plains. I wish I could tell you what landmarks to look for, but there is no way to describe the difference between one snowmount and the next, so I won't even bother. As long as we go due north from where the Eldgull and the Sirinth meet, we can't miss the Ice City."

   It took us five days to reach the Eldgull, or rather five nights. We travelled north under the cover of darkness and sought shelter during the day. I cursed the commander's decision to send Braston along more than once during the first few days. The big, bulky man crashed through the undergrowth like a herd of Frandil oxen on a stampede. I almost sent him back to the fortress, but Crale, Rahm and Lokar wouldn't let me.
   We saw plenty of orc signs and it was a miracle we managed to stay undetected all the way to the bridge with all the racket Braston caused.
   We had to cross the river at this point, but the bridge was guarded.
   "Can't we cross at the ford?" Rahm asked.
   I knew which one he meant, about six miles to the east. I shook my head, knowing the others could barely see me in the darkness.
   "It's hard enough crossing there in summer. In winter, it's impossible. No, we have to cross here. Unless off course you don't mind going west for nearly two weeks, cross the bridge there and then walk all the way back here."
   They didn't need to see the grin on my face to know that wasn't a serious suggestion.
   "Right." Rahm agreed. "So how do we take them?"
   We took them fast and completely by surprise. It was during this fight that Braston finally proved his worth. Like the same herd of stampeding Frandil oxen I had cursed before, he threw himself at the orc guards. Knocking the first one of his feet (I finished that one off moments later), severing the head from the next one's body with a powerful blow. He moved on to the last one without even breaking his stride. It was over before they even realised what hit them, before they could raise an alarm. Gods, the ugly bastard could fight!
   By the time we hid the bodies of the dead orcs, heavy snowflakes were falling from a black sky, aiding us in covering up the tracks of the short battle. In less than an hour it would seem like nothing had happened here, but we didn't stick around to wait for that, didn't stick around to make sure. We still had a long way to go and a few more hours left before the dawning of a new day would force us to seek shelter again.
   We had to follow the river from this point, but before turning east we went a little further north. Still close enough to the river to hear it in the distance, but far enough into the woods to take cover should the need arise.
   For ten days we had to follow the river. After only three, disaster struck.

   "Crale! Ware!"
   Without warning they erupted from the trees on all sides. My cry came too late. As I pulled my sword, the orc's blade dug deep into Crale's side. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as I watched a look of surprise cross Crale's face. A sound behind me, and time suddenly turned back to normal. I turned, blocking a thrust aimed at my back. A strange feeling came over me, a strange mixture of emotions. Confusion and sadness from watching one of my best friends taking a blade, the hatred I felt for the orcs. But strongest of all was the deep anger I felt at fate.
   Could fate really be this cruel? Not even a third of the way and these orcs were going to end our mission? Right here, right now?
   "No! (Swing) They're! (Parry) NOT!"
   A look of surprised crossed the orc's face as my thrust found his heart. A look twin to the one I had seen on Crale's face only moments before. I pulled my sword free as he went down. With adrenaline and determination running through my veins I attacked the nearest foe. I was not about to let them win! No more than a minute later, that one too lay dying at my feet.
   I spun around, a terrible cry passing my lips, looking for another foe to unleash my rage upon.
   The remaining orcs ran. I knew there wouldn't be much time before they came back with reinforcements.
   "Chanic?"
   I had seen Crale fall but had hoped his wound wasn't as bad as it looked, had hoped he could be saved. But the way Rahm spoke my name shattered that hope.
   The moment I knelt beside him, I knew Crale would not be going with us any further. Though he was still alive, the wound was fatal. Blinking away tears, I gave him the only thing I had left to give him: A quick, painless death.
   We gathered around Crale's lifeless body, each of us offering silent prayers to Aesmor, god of death. It was Lokar who broke the silence.
   "Now what?" he asked.
   "We go on," I answered, my voice harsher than I intended.
   "Well yes, but were?" Braston asked. "The orcs ran east. It would be foolish to go after them."
   "Right. Then we go north."
   I didn't wait for their consent. I only hoped we could turn east again soon.

   Unfortunately, my hope went unfulfilled. The orcs stayed behind us, following our trail, driving us further and further north. I had the feeling they were content to just follow us as long as we went north. But every time we tried to turn east they would attack. We discussed this during one of our short breaks. The only thing we could come up with was that they were trying to hide something. And we knew what that would be: some of the tribes gathering in preparation for the coming war.
   We didn't get much rest, didn't dare to stop for more than an hour at a time. With the orcs still hot on our trail, what else could we do than keep moving? After four exhausting days, we decided to keep heading north instead of trying to turn east again. That way, we'd be out of the forest and on to the Plains in a few more days. We figured we'd loose them there; their fear of the Iyach'Naphrael would be much greater than their desire to kill us. We were right, though they followed us out on that cold, empty, desolate wasteland for two more days before turning back.

   Though the danger of being killed by orcs had now passed, we were now facing a different problem. From the moment the commander had asked me to guide this small band of soldiers I had been confident I could find the Ice City of Gaedolin if we could take the same route as I had taken before. But could I still find it from where we were now? Calculating our position as best as I could, I figured it was still possible if we stayed on a northeastern course. But it was so hard to judge which way we were going, because we couldn't see the sun. Thick layers of clouds had turned the sky to a uniform white, the same endless white as the snow-covered land. Then I remembered something that might help us find our way: on the Plains the wind was usually blowing from the north-east. So if we kept walking into the wind, we might still have a chance.
We soon realised that finding our way wasn't the biggest problem we faced. We were running out of food. And to make things even worse, it had started to snow.

   "We're lost, aren't we?"
   It wasn't a question, more the stating of a well-known fact. By our best calculations, we should have reached the Ice City by now. Our supplies had lasted only three more days. After that we just kept struggling through the deep snow, struggling against the wind. We only took short rests, huddled close to preserve what little warmth was still left in our bodies. Exhausted, cold, hungry. Fearing that if we fell asleep, it would be forever.
   "Get up, Rahm. We have to keep moving." I didn't know what else to say, I didn't know what else to do. But I felt that as long as we kept going, there was still some hope left.
   "We need a brake Chanic, please."
   I looked at their weary faces.
   "Oh alright, but just a short one."
   With a start I awoke, covered by a thick blanked of fresh snow. Nearly panicking I started to shake my companions, a wave of relieve washing over me as they finally started to stir.
   And then I saw her.
   Kneeling a few feet away, her head bowed, her eyes closed, long black hair framing her pale face, she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.


   She opened her eyes and with her pale blue stare she melted our frozen hearts. Then she stood and turned away. We struggled to our feet and started to follow her. Day turned into night, night turned into day. No longer did we feel the cold, no longer did we feel the hunger, no longer did we feel the fatigue. We didn't know if we were still alive or not, and frankly, we didn't care anymore. All we did was follow our mysterious, silent guide to whereever it was she was leading us.
   Days passed, perhaps even weeks, but we hardly noticed it. We had lost all sense of time and direction. Then suddenly she stopped. She smiled at us, stretched out her arm and pointed. We strained our eyes, unable to see far through the heavy snowfall. And then, as if by magic, the snow stopped. And there, glowing white against the darkening sky, we saw the tall thin spires of Gaedolin.
   With tears streaming down my face, tears that turned into ice in the cold wind, I turned to thank her. But where she had stood just a moment before, nothing was left, not even tracks in the snow. Without a trace, without a word, she had vanished.

   "Who was she?"
   Messages had been send to the Kingdom, warning them of the coming war. We had slept for almost two full days.
   Smiling, our host broke into song. First in the delicate language of the Iyach'Naphrael, then translating it into ours. I've forgotten most of the words, but one part I will always remember: