And with snow whipping against him, all alone in this bleak vista, with his lungs finally collapsing, he wondered vaguely what, if anything, would be waiting for him on the other side.
*
Behind them, the night sky lit up with an unholy fire.
The ice sheets rocked and lurched and cracked.
The survivors were now close to the longships, where a handful of Jamur sentries stood guard. All of them stood watching this last noble act of Captain Apium Hol.
Nelum realized exactly what had gone on, and silently placed a comforting hand on Brynd's shoulder. A small gesture, but enough.
Tonight they had witnessed real heroism and who would have thought it would be Apium of all people. Chubby old Apium, more interested in carousing than soldiering?
No time for sentimentality. Brynd muttered a bitter prayer for his dead comrade and gave the command to head south.
FORTY-FOUR
A fresh layer of snow, not that the landscape needed it.
That moment when it had just stopped.
A silence even the air appreciated.
The sun, wherever it was behind all those clouds, was setting – darker and quicker than Dartun had expected. They would make some form of camp here, a cluster of canvas tents pinned to the ice. But what comfort would sleep bring being exposed so far away from solid land?
He looked back at the map, then again regarded the terrain. They had travelled up the western coast without yet engaging with many forms of life. The remoteness appealed to Dartun. Maybe dying didn't seem to matter so much when he was surrounded by an environment so detached from normal existence – it was like you were halfway there anyway. Dogs barked into the wind. His cultist followers remained dutifully on their sleighs. Dozens of the undead stood motionless, waiting for further instructions.
They were now crossing the ice sheets somewhere to the north-west of Tineag'l. Just a year ago and they would have been walking on water. Instinctively, Dartun knew that he wasn't far from one of the Realm Gates.
Verain stepped up alongside, placed her hand on his lower back. Thick clothing, a fur hood, and beneath it all she looked so distant. 'How long, do you think?'
'Not far. Two hours, maybe three.'
'Are you getting nervous?' she asked.
'Nervous? Why?'
'I don't know… because of what we're discovering. Because we have no idea what to expect on the other side of these gates – if they exist.'
'They exist,' he said. 'They most definitely exist.'
'So why don't you feel anything, Dartun? You seem to have switched off your emotions.'
Verain moved to face him directly, placed her hand on his arm in a tender gesture. 'I no longer know what to make of you. You summon the dead to your side. You drag us all on an expedition to find another world. What am I supposed to make of it? You've stopped talking to us – to me. It's as if the Dartun I knew has died, and you're not him any more.'
Her words pitter-pattered on, and he tried to ignore them. He was dying: that was the whole point, wasn't it? But what did she mean, saying that he was already dead? Had he changed so obviously in the face of his sudden mortality?
*
Night, and a small fire had been built on the surface of the ice, transforming his cultists into strange purple silhouettes. The dogs had fallen silent, bedding down alongside the sleds so that the only sound here was of the wind, haunting and isolating. Undead men and women shambled in patrols around the periphery of the camp. Dartun explained his situation to Verain, and repeated his statement to the rest of the Order of the Equinox. He had never been clear about his immortality to them, but was now candid.
When Verain looked at him he felt for the first time in months that there was a connection. He had satiated her mind. They headed for their tent. As others chatted outside, in the light of fires that spat against the bleakness of the Tineag'l sky, the pair huddled together under the same blankets, finding a renewed interest in the details of each other's bodies. Only since regaining his mortality did Dartun truly appreciate the texture and fragrance of her skin. Subtleties he had forgotten were rediscovered under his fingertips, his lips.
As his mouth now sought the warmth of her neck, there came a cry from outside. Dartun sat up, peering around the tent as if to locate the source there.
It sounded again.
One of his order in alarm or distress?
Dartun looked back to Verain, who reflected his alert gaze. 'Let's see what's going on.'
They dressed quickly, then headed out into the intense cold where he saw his order gathered in a cluster, on a hillock some way off. He trudged through the snow to see what they were all staring at.
'What's going on?' he demanded.
'Godhi, something on the horizon,' someone replied.
Dartun pushed his way to the front and noticed a strange glow where the earth met the sky. Directly north, a faint touch of white light shone like a warning beacon against the surrounding blackness. His heart started to beat quicker: could this be what he was searching for? But why could they see it now and not earlier?
'Fetch my maps,' Dartun instructed, still staring in excitement. Within moments, someone was thrusting the documents into his hand.
'Not only there,' Tuung observed. 'To the east slightly, as well.'
Dartun's gaze shifted to his right, where another line on the horizon was glowing. And suddenly he recognized them as a row of torches. There must be hundreds of them, at least an hour's journey away.
'Looks like an army of some type,' he decided.
'Jamur?' Tuung suggested.
'Possibly,' Dartun replied.
'Do you think they're heading this way?'
'How long have you been here watching?' Dartun enquired.
'Not long. Five minutes at most.'
'Let's wait a little longer,' Dartun said, then turned to the rest of his followers. 'Everyone get ready, round up the undead, put out those fires.'
He turned to study the first light. It could have been an atmospheric trick, but he could have sworn the white glow there had aggregated into the shape of a doorway.
*
The scout returned, his light sled fizzing to a halt. Four dogs panted heavily.
'So what did you see, lad?' Dartun raised his voice above the wind. His cheeks were stinging in the cold, so he brought up his hood.
'I couldn't get very close, but that's no Empire army.' Todi shuffled nervously on the ice. 'Isn't like any tribe I've ever seen, either. I could swear most of them were wearing some weird kind of armour that covered the entire body.'
'Did it look like some kind of shell?'
'Aye, I suppose it could, yes.'
'What else did you see?' Dartun urged.
'Rumel, too, but not so many of them, though there's hundreds of the armoured things over there. They've pitched a camp by the looks of it.'
'And the other light directly north?' Dartun demanded.
'Shaped like a door, just as you said,' Todi replied. 'It's big – about four men high.'
