The Shattered Land_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [85]
Lakashtai glanced at Daine. “Well, captain? Any tactical advice?”
The deck was covered with snow, and Daine’s face was numb. An icy wind was beginning to rise. “This doesn’t look good, and I don’t much want to drag this boat across a frozen field. I say listen to the guide.”
Gerrion gave a quick bow. “Always the best advice. Lay on your oars, then—hopefully we can reach the cove before the river is completely frozen.”
The temperature fell with the approach of night, and twice they came to a halt, until Lei carved a path with magical flame. Frost formed on Pierce’s outer shell, and the creatures of flesh and blood drew their cloaks tight against the cold, but even as the sun slipped away, Gerrion pulled the vessel off of the river. Strangely, the waters of the inlet were less choked with ice; it was as if some hidden force was warming the water, and Lei’s mystical flames were not needed. The shore was hidden behind shadow and snow, but Gerrion proved his worth as a guide, steering through the darkness. At last the ship struck soil, and Gerrion and Pierce heaved the anchor off the side.
“If you have any warmer clothing, now’s the time to find it,” Gerrion said. “The path’s only a few hours walk from here, and I’d sooner press on than camp in this mess. Olladra willing, we’ll be back in the warmth by midnight.”
“We are not alone.” Pierce’s quiet voice drifted from the cold. Daine could barely see Pierce through the snow, but the warforged had his bow in hand, an arrow to the string. There was a blur of motion in the night, a splash as Pierce leapt down from the deck. “There is another boat at rest here, struck aground harder than ours.”
Daine squinted into the darkness. He could barely see the outline of the vessel. He sighed: if anyone was out there, they’d surely have noticed the arrival of the new boat. “Lei, light—disposable.”
Pale light pushed back the night, emanating from a copper coin in Lei’s palm. She pressed the glowing disk into Daine’s hand, and he flung the coin off the deck, creating a pool of light in the darkness. Daine searched for any signs of movement, any reaction in the night, but he saw nothing.
Pierce was right: another boat was at rest some 20 feet away. Slightly larger than the Grey Cat, it was a two-masted vessel with a squat, rounded hull covered with black tar. At least it’s not Riedrans, Daine thought—at least the ship was simpler and far uglier than the elegant vessel Lakashtai had identified as Riedran when they’d first arrived in Stormreach.
There were no signs of movement beyond the lapping water and no lights on the ship.
Drawing his sword, Daine leapt off the prow of the Gray Cat. Icy water splashed around his boots, and Daine ground his teeth against the cold as he made his way to the shore.
Pierce materialized next to him, a mithral ghost in the snowy night. He raised a hand, gesturing toward the boat. Follow, silently, his gestures said.
Daine shadowed Pierce, moving as quietly as he could. The warforged kept his bow ready, but a moment later he paused, nodding his head toward the icy ground.
A human body lay on the ground. It was half-buried in snow, and fresh blood was spread across the white blanket.
Daine swore silently. He’d seen worse in the war, but those were times he’d done his best to forget. At first it seemed that the corpse had been cleaved in two, but the truth was far more disturbing. Only half of the body was intact. As for the rest—what Daine had taken for bloodstains were actually the pulped remnants of flesh and bone. It seemed that the man’s body had been caught beneath a wheel of razor-sharp spikes, and from the pattern of the spray the wheel was spinning at a tremendous speed. Daine knelt next to the corpse. The snow hid any distinguishing features that were left to him and obscured his clothing. Daine was reaching out to brush away the concealing snow when Pierce gave a sharp gesture.
Enemy. Holding position