Chapter Fifteen: A Massacre Of Ice
Prince Karmalaine could scarce believe his ears. “Perhaps you misunderstood me”, said the Prince.
But before he had a chance to repeat his original statement the figure in front of him spoke, “I did not misunderstand you prince of Fenn. I am certain you are not used to being defied but out here in the wild lands, away from your palaces and your power, defiance will come to you at the most surprising moments”, The Snowman spoke.
“The Prince's power rests beneath his feet no matter he stands from Bloodren to Archaven. You would do well to remember that, ice-fiend”, said Vulthian vociferously. Prince Karmalaine lifted a hand to calm his Lord Captain.
“Be that as it may the dreamer is a guest in our hall, and a guest he shall stay until he decides otherwise”, responded the Snowman frostily before stepping backwards through the hole in the ice wall which had formed when he first came out.
“Say the word My Prince”, said Vulthian, drawing his sword and flexing his silver claw.
“Wait”, said the Prince raising a hand. When they'd reached the village Cyra, Golgoleth and Kalwyn had flown over the top of Snowdell before returning to the ground before the wall. They told him that it appeared deserted and the few Snowmen they did see were running for shelter. They'd been before the city for mere minutes when the doorway had appeared and the old man came out. He hobbled along with what appeared to be great difficulty, the ice in his joints cracking and scraping as it moved.
He'd asked them their purpose at Snowdell, though it was obvious from his tone that he knew why they were there. Prince Karmalaine told them that they had come to escort the dreamer back to the Mercurial Chambers. That was then the Snowman had simply said the word 'no' and opened up a whole new unpleasant avenue of possibilities as to how things would go down today.
Prince Karmalaine considered himself civilised, he also considered himself a shrewd negotiator, but in this instance there was no-one to negotiate with and he was forced to admit to himself that no matter how reluctant he was he might end up having to use force to bring the matter to a successful conclusion. The Prince licked his lips which were chapped by the cold winter.
“Balg-Miur”, he said.
“Yes, little Prince?”
“Can you create a doorway for us?” said the Prince. If he could make his way into Snowdell and speak with more of its occupants he might be able to persuade them to give up the dreamer without a fight. Given the firepower at his disposal it felt almost obscenely unfair to attack the unarmed and peaceful Snowmen.
The giant grinned at the Prince's request before striding forward and aiming a solid kick at the white wall around the settlement. At thirty feet tall the ice-wall appeared a formidable obstacle from Karmalaine's point of view, but it only took one kick from the giant to smash a large hole in it. The kick hit with such force that the Prince almost lost his footing.
When the cloud of ice cleared that was a wide v-shaped hole in the ice wall. “Balg-Miur, Vulthian, Cyra, you will walk with me. Search for any sign of the dreamer, do no damage and cause no hurt. We are not here for conflict. Demon, Kalwyn, circle the city and report back to us regularly.” They all nodded and obeyed except for the demon who muttered a profanity before launching himself into the air.
Prince Karmalaine made his way over the broken ice with Vulthian beside him and the heavy footsteps of the giant and dragon behind them. The same spiritual trail which the Prince had picked up on in the forest and felt tingling beneath his feet every step of the way was here, but stronger. It was not just in the ground but also in the air he breathed and in the walls of ice and snow which cast their shadows upon him now.
The Prince shivered, not just from the extra cold that the streets of ice and snow were causing. There was resentment in the air; he felt out of place, he felt as if every door and window were shouting silently for him to leave. There seemed to be an inordinate number of towers in Snowdell, navigation between which seemed to be done via a vast web of ice bridges. Such was the maze of shadows cast by these bridges that it was dark down where the Prince walked in the wide street.
They had not gone far when they had to stop, for the interlinking walkways had become so thick that Balg-Miur and Cyra could no longer get through. Prince Karmalaine would have never have thought that such a large settlement could be so eerily quiet. Cyra's eyes still burned brightly in the gloom. The giant stood tall above the highest tower in the city. Prince Karmalaine was almost reluctant to speak, so deep and all-encompassing was the silence. He was just about to look to his companions for suggestions when he noticed that snow had started to fall. It was just as the first flake struck the ground that the attack came.
He saw it on Cyra first, ice bubbling out of the ground, swarming up the dragon's legs like a wave washing up a cliff face. Except the wave did not recede, the spiky ice swarmed up and over the dragon faster than was conceivable until he was a statue, a giant icy dragon statue whose eyes still burned. Next Prince Karmalaine heard Balg-Miur roar. The ice was on him now, thick white snakes curling up the giant's legs, but he reacted faster than the dragon. Perhaps it was Cyra's disbelief that he could have been assaulted by such a lowly foe as the Snowmen that had seen him encased but the giant had no such hesitation and his mighty fists started crashing down at the ice. Though he stopped it from rising above his waist, where it held his legs it got thicker and stronger despite the succession of loud blows he brought against it.
Then the Prince felt a freezing cold stab at his feet, he looked down to see tendrils of liquid ice weaving themselves around his legs. He looked at Vulthian and said, “I thought these people did not know how to fight?” shivering violently as the ice took him.
“They learned”, said the Lord Captain, who the Prince could see was also being swamped by a wave of ice.
There was a stillness to Karmalaine's world as the ice sealed around him. He noted that even though it had him it continued to get thicker, layer upon layer until his vision was white. His heartbeat slowed and the ice pressed so close that he did not even have room to shiver. Just when everything went numb and the Prince started to think that this wasn't so bad after all there came the light and a tremendous heat. Then the ice disappeared and the Prince saw Kalwyn hovering before him with his broad wings beating at the air and his sword of light shining.
He grabbed the Prince with his other arm and pulled him into the air, landing on an ice tower not too far away. The angel was radiating intense heat and the Prince was soon warm, as was the surface of the tower of ice on which they stood which started to melt rapidly. Prince Karmalaine could see Golgoleth with a thawing Vulthian next to him on another tower.
“My Prince, I know it is your intent to take the dreamer peacefully, but it may be we need to employ some force before we were overcome.”
“The Snowmen are not the pacifists we thought”, responded the Prince.
“They think that they under attack and are acting accordingly, there is little point in avoiding a conflict that has already started.”
The Prince was just about to respond when there was a loud rumbling noise and what felt like an earthquake striking the area. Prince Karmalaine turned and looked to where Cyra sat beneath the ice. He reached out his hand and shouted, "No!" but the dragon did not hear him and even if he had he would have been ignored. The ice exploded outwards from the dragon, pieces the size of houses crashing through the ice towers, knocking them to the ground. The ice around the dragon disintegrated as the dragon freed himself and as he came free the mighty wings beat and he lifted into the sky with a roar. The roar contained all the rage of a slighted dragon and it was followed by another roar, not just of sound but of fire.
The flames were pale, a multitude of light blues, dull oranges and reds. They swept across Snowdell and where they hit the city was gone. The ice beneath the flame was not melted, it was vaporised and beneath it scorched earth was left, molten rock and black ashen dirt. The flames brushed close to w
here Balg-Miur still struggled and burned most of the ice away from him, that which remained was easily broken by the furious giant. The second titan was loosed and his rage was palpable, whole streets were demolished as the giant laid waste with his mighty arms. He did not stand still, in order to foil the ice which every now and then made another attempt to lock him in place, but the giant was aware of it not. He kept moving, kept destroying, carving a path of chaos through the empty streets of Snowdell.
“We must stop them”, said Prince Karmalaine.
“My Prince, truly those of Archaven appreciate your peaceful outlook but-”
The Prince interrupted him, “This is nothing to do with peace. Tell me what use is the dreamer going to be if he is toasted to a cinder by a dragon or stomped flat by an out-of-control giant?”
The realisation appeared on Kalwyn's ethereal face. “Ah, of course, wise Prince.”
“Go to Cyra, get his attention and tell him that if he burns the dreamer he will answer to my father for it.”
“What of the giant?” asked the musical voice of the angel.
“Take me over to Golgoleth and Vulthian, we will stop Balg-Miur.”
Kalwyn nodded and took off, grabbing the Prince effortlessly in his hands and flying him across the rooftops to where the demon and the Lord Captain waited. The angel deposited the Prince next to them and then flew off immediately in the direction of the raging dragon who still breathed fire all around.
“Golgoleth, can you carry both of us at the same time?” the Prince asked of the demon.
Golgoleth's colouring had grown so pale that the red glow could not really be seen. He was a pale demon now, though the change in colouration had not lessened the horror of his visage. Only the two horns kept their colour, the deep inky black.
“Your weight is that of a sparrow, little Prince, but your captain is like a lump of granite.”
“This armour is not ornamental”, retorted the Lord Captain.
“Very well”, said the Prince, keen to head off an argument, “I want you to fly me to the giant.”
“Take care, My Prince”, said Vulthian, “the creature is in a rage and is just as likely to lash out as he is to listen.”
Karmalaine nodded as the demon grabbed hold and lifted him into the air. This was the first time Golgoleth had flown the prince anywhere. When Kalwyn flew him his grip was always warm and gentle and the Prince felt elated each time he was deposited back on the ground. The demons touch was awful, it felt like a glove of daggers digging into his skin. He started to sweat and even feel nauseous, the hate and negativity radiating from the demon was vomit inducing.
“Put me on top of him”, shouted the Prince as they neared the giant. Karmalaine was as keen of being free of the demon's grip as he was stopping the giant. Had he issued such a command to Kalwyn, or within earshot of Vulthian, there would have been protest at the wisdom of such a course of action but the demon had no such qualms. They got close to the giant and then the Prince was flung through the air to crash into the giant's back. “Balg-Miur”, he bellowed but to no effect. The giant was full of battle-lust and continued his path of destruction.
Prince Karmalaine had hold of the rough coarse material of Balg-Miur's jerkin. Slowly but surely he started to climb up towards the giant's head to try and shout some sense into those cavernous ears of his.