Marcovefa descended without a care in the world. Sometimes the raven stayed on her shoulder. Sometimes it flew off and soared and spun and swooped through the air. Hamnet Thyssen had seldom had the chance to watch a bird flying from above it. He didn’t have much of a chance now; he was too busy watching where he put his hands and feet. Killing himself for the sake of an unusual sight struck him as excessive devotion.
Maybe Marcovefa thought she could stop any trouble with a quick spell. Maybe she was right . . and maybe she wasn’t. Count Hamnet noticed that Liv and Audun Gilli both seemed much less carefree. Audun, probably the clumsiest person in the band, seemed scared out of his skin. Hamnet had a hard time blaming him – for that, anyway.
Not only were they above the raven – at least from time to time – they were also above a bank of clouds that bumped up against the side of the Glacier. And then they weren’t above the clouds any more, but in them. Count Hamnet discovered what mountain dwellers already knew: clouds up close were nothing but fog. Not being able to see more than a few feet as he struggled down towards the ground only made the descent even more alarming than it would have been otherwise.
He was on the point of complaining about that when Trasamund beat him to it. Ulric loaded his voice with treacle as he answered, “You poor dear. Maybe we should go back up to the top and try again when the weather gets nicer.”
The Bizogot’s reply should have melted the Glacier all by itself. Somehow, it didn’t. It didn’t scorch Ulric, either; the adventurer only laughed, which infuriated Trasamund all over again. Hamnet Thyssen went right on scrambling down the steep slope of the avalanche, glad he hadn’t offered himself as a target for Ulric s merciless wit.
Little by little, what had been a layer of clouds below and then a layer of fog all around became a layer of clouds above. That seemed normal to Hamnet, as it doubtless did to the other Raumsdalians and the Bizogots.
Marcovefa said something that sounded intrigued as she looked up. Ulric started to laugh again, this time, Hamnet judged, without sarcasm.
“Well?” Hamnet asked.
“She says, ‘There’s something you don’t see everyday,’“ Ulric said. “She’s more used to the tops of clouds than to their bottoms.”
Marcovefa looked down then. That also seemed to interest her. There, at least, Hamnet Thyssen could understand why. She was closer to the ground than any men of the Glacier had come for who could say how many hundred years. She spoke again.
This time, Ulric translated without waiting for anyone to ask him: “She says even the air feels heavy and thick down here.”
“Tell her we think there isn’t enough of it up where she lives,” Hamnet replied.
Ulric did. The comment only made the shaman laugh and shake her head. “Oh, no, she says,” Ulric reported. “It’s just right up there. … All what you’re used to, I suppose.”
“No doubt,” Count Hamnet said. “Of course, she’s also used to eating neighbors she doesn’t get along with.” He paused. “Considering a few of the people I know in Nidaros, that does have something to recommend it. But still . .”
“I know some of the people in Nidaros you wouldn’t mind seeing dead,” Ulric said. “Anybody who ate ‘em would sick em up again afterwards.”
“It could be,” Hamnet said. “I -”
He broke off. Someone in the group of climbers farthest to his right let out a wild scream of terror. “Watch out!” Two Bizogots and Audun Gilli shouted the same thing at the same time. It was much too late and altogether useless. That whole group – except for Arnora, who was trailing – plunged down the still-steep side of the ice mountain in an avalanche they’d touched off themselves. Hamnet Thyssen never knew what went wrong. A misplaced hand? A foot that came down where it shouldn’t have? Odds were whichever Bizogot made the mistake didn’t have long to regret it, either. How long could you last in a tumble of snow and icy boulders? If you were lucky, you would die fast, before you got buried alive.
Ulric slid half a step towards Arnora, then checked himself. Any move he made, or any she made, might start things sliding again. One of the Bizogots in the next group over did have some rope. He threw it to her. White- faced and panting with terror, she tied it around her waist. Then, moving as if walking on eggs, she sidled towards the man who’d thrown it. He hauled in the rope, and eventually hauled in Arnora with it.
She threw her arms around him and kissed him when she was safe – or as safe as she could be on the side of the Glacier. Count Hamnet glanced over to Ulric to see how he liked that. “I’d kiss him myself, but he’s bound to like it better from Arnora,” Ulric said. Hamnet only nodded. Either Ulric really worried less about such things than he did or hid his worries better. Whichever it was, the adventurer had the advantage there.
“We knew this was dangerous before we started down,” Trasamund said. “Now we truly
“Hit bottom?” Ulric suggested.
“Yes,” Trasamund said, and then, “No, curse it. Will you be serious for once in your life?”
“Oh, I’m serious enough,” the adventurer said. “Hard to stay jolly for long when you watch people die on a slope only maniacs would try.”
“Even sane, sensible people will try anything if they see their other choices are worse,” Count Hamnet said.
Ulric didn’t try to argue, from which Hamnet concluded that he didn’t think he could. They’d all decided taking the chance of dying was better than turning into men of the Glacier. Hamnet wondered whether the men the avalanche had buried would still agree. He wouldn’t have the chance to ask them, not in this world he wouldn’t.
The rest of the climbers gingerly went around the new avalanche as they kept descending. They couldn’t go too far around, not unless they got away from the slope of the bigger avalanche they were using for their route down. The rest of the Glacier wasn’t dangerously steep – it was impossibly steep.
Hamnet Thyssen looked up towards the top of the avalanche, back the way he’d come. The clouds that had been below him now hid most of the route. It might have been just as well; seeing what he’d done would only have convinced him he’d been out of his mind to try this.
Or had he? What other choice was there? If he and his comrades hadn’t climbed the Glacier, the Rulers would have killed them. If they hadn’t come down, they would have turned into cannibals. This was bad. Those, as he’d told Ulric, were worse.
“We’ve been beyond the Glacier and on top of it,” he said. “Not many can claim that.”
“You, me, Ulric, Audun, Liv,” Trasamund said. “Not many fools in the world.”
“You’re welcome to speak for yourself, Your Ferocity, but I’ll thank you to include me out,” Ulric said.
“Yes, tell me you’re not a fool. Tell me and make me believe it,” the Bizogot jarl said. Ulric maintained a dignified silence. Trasamund made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a snort. “Didn’t think you could.”
Marcovefa pointed down towards the ground – specifically, towards a herd of musk oxen in the middle distance. She said something that made Ulric snort, too – a snort that came close to a giggle. “Well?” Hamnet asked.
“She says we’re either closer to the ground than she thought or those are the biggest voles she’s ever seen,” the adventurer reported.
After a moment, Count Hamnet started to laugh, too. There he was, clinging like a fly to the side of the Glacier, unable to fly away if by some mischance he slipped, and he laughed hard enough to have trouble holding on. “What will she think when she sees mammoths?” he said when he could finally speak again.
“Probably that the pikas should have gone to the dentist before they grew up,” Ulric answered. That set them both laughing again, and got Trasamund and Audun Gilli started.
“I think we’re losing our minds.” Audun didn’t sound especially dismayed.
Trasamund shook his head. “We lost them a long time ago. We wouldn’t have gone up there if we hadn’t.”
Marcovefa asked a question. Ulric answered. By the way he kept going back and forth, he was having a hard time getting her to believe him. She kept screwing up her face and making derisive gestures. At last, he said something that turned her thoughtful. “She doesn’t want to believe the musk oxen are as big as I say,” Ulric said.
