Frostfell_ The Wizards - Mark Sehestedt [22]
"You allowed this?" asked Lendri.
"What choice did I have?" A cold edge tinged Amira's words.
"Among our people-"
The belkagen cut him off. "She is not of our people, Lendri. The bonds of duty to family and clan are not always easy to bear. This we know."
Lendri looked down. "The belkagen speaks wisely," he said. "I ask your forgiveness, Lady."
Amira acknowledged his apology with a nod. She glanced at Gyaidun. Was he blushing?
"To answer your question, Lendri, Jalan is on the verge of manhood. He often chafes at his mother's influence- especially the past few years. I fear he blames me for many of the insults and cruelties he suffered from my family. Perhaps the blame is not altogether undeserved."
There was a long silence, then the belkagen spoke. "You are from Cormyr. A war wizard, you said. How did you come to be out here, a captive of slavers?"
"Last year I was sent to High Horn. You've heard of it?"
The men shook their heads.
"It is a castle in the far west of Cormyr. In the mountains. A hard, cold place. Those sent there are either the most skilled warriors and wizards, sent there to make them the best of the best. Or they're considered trouble and are sent there to be disciplined."
"And which are you?" asked Gyaidun. "The best or trouble?"
"I'm both."
Gyaidun smirked and looked away, but the belkagen chuckled.
"We'd been there a few tendays when I was sent out into the field. Some patrols had gone missing, and the knights looking for them wanted a wizard on hand in case they ran into more trouble than they could handle. We found the patrol in a valley, all dead, but only two died of obvious wounds. Scavengers had been at all of them, but using my arts I was able to determine how they died. It was early summer, still cool in the mountains but not cold, and yet-"
"They were frozen," said Gyaidun, his eyes bright and… hungry. "Like those slavers. Weren't they?"
Amira nodded. "We gathered the bodies and returned to High Horn. While we were gone, there was an attack. A dozen or so made it inside the castle. Several died. Good men and women. Friends. And the raiders took my son."
"A dozen or so?" said the belkagen. "How could so few breach a castle filled with your kingdom's best and escape?"
"Most of the raiders were pale-skinned men. Warriors. But one… it was… uh…"
"A thing of darkness and cold malice," said Lendri, his voice low. "Hooded in an ash-gray cloak."
"Yes," said Amira. "How…?"
"I saw him last night-or one very like him."
"Him?" asked the belkagen.
"Him… it, I don't know," said Lendri. "His presence made my skin crawl and froze the air around me, but I heard him speak the words to his spell, and it was a man's voice." He took another sip from his bowl and swallowed hard. "But something was… wrong with the voice. Something twisted, as if the man were not used to speaking."
"He was alone?" asked Amira.
"No," said Lendri. "Others were with him. The whiteskins you spoke of. They are known here in the Wastes. And feared. Siksin Neneweth, my people name them."
Amira's brow creased. "I don't know the word."
The belkagen broke in. "Damarans call them Aikulen Jain, and the Tuigan Shen Ghel. Ice Walkers, Frost Folk it means."
"In the attack on High Horn, three of the raiders died. Two were Tuigan, but the other was one of these pale-skinned barbarians you speak of, these 'Frost Folk.' The senior war wizard at High Horn examined them, probing their minds. The Tuigan were just mercenaries, hired swords. Saelthos said he could read nothing from the other… only a sense of cold and frost. But he said he thought the man was Sossrim, not… Frost Folk."
The belkagen threw another log on the fire, sending sparks spiraling upward, where they were quickly snuffed out in the heavy fog. "Sossrim they once were," he said. "But now they dwell farther north than Sossal, in