Ashes of a Black Frost

the cold air for a while. Only a few flakes were falling now, which seemed to make the night darker, more sinister. Even though it was hell to march through, there had been something oddly comforting about the snow.

Konowa turned and looked toward Suhundam’s Hill. It had to be clear to every soldier present that it wouldn’t be an easy nut to crack if they had to take it by force. Faced with the prospect of assaulting a fortified position on a rocky hill definitely focused their attention.

Konowa continued. “His Majesty has asked me to convey his best wishes in the coming hours and knows you will do your best. He is currently deep in study, pouring over the many documents and artifacts that were recovered from the library in hopes of finding ways to defeat the Shadow Monarch and break the oath. While this is unlikely,” he quickly added, knowing it was the best lie he had to offer, “there is always hope. And cunning.”

“Lieutenant Imba,” Konowa announced, drawing a few murmurs of feigned surprise from the ranks. Imba stepped forward and turned to look at the gathered troops.

“Some of you are no doubt aware that Lieutenant Imba has been with us since Nazalla, serving quietly among the ranks. I’m sure you’ve guessed the reason for this subterfuge by now.” Konowa was certain, in fact, that they hadn’t because he was crafting his reasoning as he spoke. “The enemy is wily, and they can no doubt pick out myself, His Majesty, and the Viceroy from some distance. This is good. They will see all of us march toward Suhundam’s Hill and believe the entire regiment is coming straight at them. They’ll be in for a surprise.

“Two soldiers will dress up like the Viceroy and myself and march with the regiment with Lieutenant Imba in actual command. The Prince will remain to the rear and appear to be. . incapacitated.” Konowa doubted he’d be able to remember all these lies if ever called to explain this later. “While the regiment goes forward I, along with the Viceroy, will lead a group of ten men across the desert and climb the hill up a secret pathway. If necessary, we expect to catch whoever is in the fort completely by surprise.”

As plans went it sounded pathetic and Konowa was trying to think of an alternative when he noticed the bustling sound of the regiment had quieted. He turned as Private Renwar appeared out of the dark.

Neat trick. Konowa kept his expression neutral.

“Where would you like me?”

Konowa looked past Renwar to see if he could detect any of the fallen, but it was too dark to see. He felt relieved. “Private Renwar,” Konowa said, ignoring the fact the soldier hadn’t formally addressed him, “I wasn’t sure if you were still with us. Your. . charges, have been rather absent of late.”

The air cooled around them, an impressive feat considering the already freezing temperature. Konowa refused to be intimidated. This is still my regiment.

“We are here, but even in death there is a cost to battle. The pain we suffer grows. To kill Her creatures compounds that pain. It’s my duty to ease their suffering.”

The use of the word “we” struck Konowa. He’s really going over to the darkness. Aware of the regiment hanging on every word, Konowa had no choice but to keep things light. “A noble attitude, and one we all share, living and dead. That said, we all still have our duty. I need you to continue leading the column toward the fort. If there’s going to be a fight, I’d like the. . others to create a distraction while my group sneaks up on whatever might be up there from behind. Is that understood?”

“There is no need. We can kill every living thing in our way,” Renwar said. There was no emotion in his voice. It was a simple statement of fact. Konowa couldn’t tell if it was meant as a larger threat or not, but it was chilling regardless.

Konowa sensed the unease building among the troops. He bowed his head for a moment as if in deep thought then raised it, revealing a big smile. “Well of course we can, we’re the Iron Elves,” he said, deliberately raising his voice and putting on a big smile. He turned and caught the eyes of some of the soldiers, nodding his head in recognition even though in their bundled state he couldn’t tell one from another. “I pity any foe who opposes us this night, especially any villainous rum casks or wine barrels we might find up there.”

Heads nodded and a few soldiers even cheered. Any chance for rest and drink, no matter how brief or where the respite might come, was always welcome. RSM Aguom looked to Konowa to see if he wanted him to instill some order, but Konowa shook his head. Let the lads enjoy the moment. Their dead comrades followed them everywhere led by the increasingly unsettling Private Renwar. Even Konowa wasn’t immune to the growing sense of dread that hung around them like an invisible fog. No, if the troops could find some joy among all this horror then Konowa wanted them to wring every drop out it.

“Any chance there’ll be any women up there, too, Major?” one of the soldiers shouted out.

“That depends,” Konowa said, pausing for effect.

“On what?” several soldiers asked at the same time.

Konowa made a show of adjusting his shako on his head and straightening out his uniform. “On if you find female rakkes attractive.”

Laughter rolled from the ranks, a release of tension by men knowing that in the next hour they might very well be dead, or worse. Konowa casually looked over at Private Renwar. The soldier’s face remained impassive, his gray eyes locked in on Konowa’s.

You and I have a problem.

Konowa held on to his smile, grinning so hard his jaw ached. This is my regiment, and don’t you forget it. “At the very least they make good rugs,” he continued, letting his gaze slide away from Renwar’s unblinking eyes. “Lads, the truth of it is, I don’t know what we’re going to find up there, but whatever it is, I absolutely know you’ll handle it.” Konowa motioned to Aguom to take over and the RSM started barking orders.

Konowa turned and walked a short distance away. He doubted his speech was worthy of Rallie’s quill, and that disappointed him. Her readers back home wanted to hear about glory and adventure, and he understood that, but it was the quiet, impromptu little talks like the one he just gave that made the difference. Throughout history it was small banter, a quick laugh and nod of understanding among a few tired, hungry, and scared soldiers like these that turned the tide and won the day. Maybe if more folks back home knew that they’d be less eager for the empire to push its boundaries further. The truth of it was, talk of queen and country sounded good when you were far from danger and warm and fed and chatting up a barmaid and no one, except maybe her husband, was lurking in the shadows waiting to bash your head in. Out here, however, with rakkes threatening to tear a soldier’s throat out with their fangs and claws, dark elves shooting vicious black arrows, and sarka har learning new and more lethal ways to kill, it didn’t have the same impact. The call of duty that every soldier did carry with him deep in his gut like a precious white diamond was nothing more and nothing less than the desperate hope to live to see another day. Wake up to a new dawn enough times and one of those days a ship would take you back home. Walking off that gangplank and setting up shop in the nearest tavern, a soldier could spin tales of derringdo leavened with a touch of modesty about how he wasn’t really a hero, which only made him sound even more of one. The soldier had been there, and everyone else hadn’t, and they knew it. The screams might still echo somewhere deep in the soldier’s skull and a loud noise might make him start and reach for the musket he no longer carried, but the audience around him would see a gallant warrior, a man who had stood before the enemy and held his ground. Even the stingiest bartender would slide him another round with just the smallest shake of his head indicating that his money was no good there. Konowa had experienced that more than once when on leave, but as good as it felt, his heart yearned to be back with the regiment, somewhere out in the wilds, wherever that might be.

“It is a bit steep, isn’t it?” Viceroy Alstonfar said, startling Konowa.

“Sorry, what is?”

“That,” Pimmer said, pointing up at Suhundam’s Hill.

Konowa realized he’d been staring at the hill without realizing it. Now he looked at it and began to realize the challenge that lay ahead. Suhundam’s Hill looked like a mountain that had been shorn off a much taller mountain and then dropped smack in the middle of the desert. Rock slivers thrust up from the desert floor in sharp lines of gray, black, and white to form a pointed pyramid towering several hundred feet above the ground.

“Steep? It’s a bloody mountaintop without the rest of the mountain,” Konowa said. “Why couldn’t the stupid bugger go and get himself killed heroically on a nice piece of flat sand and not a place where a mountain goat would think twice about climbing?”

“They don’t actually have mountain goats in this part of the world,” Pimmer said helpfully. Konowa turned to glare at the Viceroy, who kept any other observations to himself.