*
Kalwyn dropped Prince Karmalaine gently down on the opposite bank of the Falkern before flying back for Vulthian. Though the ice looked solid enough to walk on there did not seem to be any point in taking chances. They were gaining on their prey, Cyra said that the strength of the dreamer’s scent got stronger with every league, with each passing hour they closed the gap.
They'd followed the tracks out of the forest and up onto the mountain. It had taken some deduction to figure out what happened on the mountainside. When the dreamer had entered the cavern he was alone but when he left it he'd gained a companion. Cyra told the Prince that the new trail smelt just like the snow and ice. The footprints were indistinct and they would have to wait until they caught up with their quarry for identification. The wolves had been easier to spot, their tracks were everywhere and they'd even found a decomposing corpse of one which looked as if it had given chase to the dreamer. The cause of death was unknown. Karmalaine assumed that whoever was with the dreamer must have defended him from the wolves.
They were wolves of the three-headed variety, with a savage intelligence. Though they could be spotted at regular intervals on hill tops in the distance and a long way off in the trees they came no closer. It would be a very brave, very dead wolf who attacked a party like theirs, three heads or one.
They found the trail easily enough once the river was crossed. Balg-Miur stepped over it with easy and Karmalaine called a meeting.
“The trail goes north?” he asked the dragon. Karmalaine could barely see Cyra for the steam, flying through the cold air he had a cloud of it about him and when he landed and sat in the snow as he now did the cloud thickened to engulf the silver beast.
“It does My Prince, straight and true.”
“So we can assume they are definitely heading for Eredyss?” asked the Prince, opening the question to the group.
“There is nothing else north of here before the wall, they must be heading to the Lair”, stated Vulthian.
Kalwyn interjected with his musical voice, “It seems odd though. We know that the dreamer does not travel with a jackal for we would certain know the dream-scent of one such as they. How is it then that he knows where Eredyss is, and why would he head there of his own volition?”
“Evidently whoever is travelling with the dreamer is in league with the jackals”, responded Vulthian.
Kalwyn responded, “Is it not odd that the jackals would place the safety of an individual so pivotal to their plans in the hands of one who was not of their own?”
Vulthian was used to having the run of the Palace of Fenngaard. There, aside from the royal family and fellow members of the Silent Council, his authority was total. The Prince knew that the Lord Captain was not used to being questioned or having to debate a course of action once decided on.
However, it was Golgoleth who responded first and headed off any arguments, “Dreamer with jackal, dreamer with stranger, dreamer heading to Eredyss, dreamer heading to anywhere. It does not matter. We will have caught up with them within a day and then the dreamer will be heading to wherever we want him to head.”
“Back to the Mercurial Chambers”, stated Prince Karmalaine.
“Of course”, said the demon, with a vicious grin showing several rows of fangs. During the course of their travels Prince Karmalaine had become used to the nuances of his companions, except for Golgoleth.
Kalwyn was friendly, if a little mysterious. His habit of turning into a globe of light during the night was at first unsettling but the Prince got used to it after a while. The angel was all that Karmalaine thought a dream of the divine would be: Polite, well-spoken, noble, helpful and inspiring in his apparent lack of ire and malice.
The dragons were thought of as a haughty race, often conducting themselves with barely disguised disdain for lesser dreams over which they saw themselves as something akin to gods. There were times when Karmalaine got this impression from Cyra, never towards the Prince but often when speaking about other species of dream in Avalen. Karmalaine got the distinct impression that the dragon regarded them as little more than vermin. Even so, Cyra was respectful towards the Prince and had revealed a number of aspects of the dragon-kind that Karmalaine had not known before.
Dragon dreams of the kind which dwelt on Avalen had come about as the result of actual mortal dragons on a world known as Old Fiurdein. Each dragon in Avalen was the dream of a still living dragon on Mir. Real dragons had an entirely unique relationship with their dreams which is why you will never see the body of a dragon lying in the Mercurial Chambers, the dragon had told the Prince.
Prince Karmalaine was intrigued to hear this; Cyra could actually recount the memories of his waking dragon and vice-versa. When the Prince asked whether or not this got confusing the dragon replied that such confusion would only afflict inferior minds.
Karmalaine had known Vulthian his whole life, he would not say that they were close on any level but he understood the Lord Captains motivations and though he was suspicious of his sometimes cruel manner he was tolerable.
In spite of his physically terrifying size Prince Karmalaine had begun to see signs of a sense of humour in the giant Balg-Miur too. Though the least likely of the company in which to see this, the attributes were nonetheless there. The other day when breaking camp the Prince had looked up and spotted a number of feathers about the face of the giant. When he asked him where they came from Balg-Miur told him that an owl had flown into him during the night and that he'd eaten him.
Prince Karmalaine was surprised, “I thought owls were night creatures, how did it come to fly into you?' he'd asked, suspecting that the owl had been the victim of the giant’s hunting.
But Balg-Miur had stared down at the Prince with eyes the size of boulders for a moment or two before responding, “Perhaps it thought I was a tree, little Prince?” The giant had then stomped off leaving the Prince to ascertain whether or not he was being facetious. Balg-Miur was quick to anger, slow to forgive, uncouth and at times downright barbarous, but at least he had a sense of humour.
But the demon, the demon Prince Karmalaine just could not abide. The fading of its red glow had continued so that it barely glowed at all now, and even looked quite pale. But it had lost none of its savagery. When it spoke, it did so with hate in its voice, even when it spoke of something mundane, some benign aspect of the scouting which he and Kalwyn did from the air, he could not help but do so with scorn and rage. It had taken a while of travelling with such a beast before the Prince had been able to put his finger on what was so disconcerting about Golgoleth.
The arrogant dragon, the brutal giant, the glowering silver claw, they all had redeeming features. There was something more to each of them than the obvious, an incredible history, a sense of humour, steadfast loyalty. But with Golgoleth, there was only what you saw, an angry demon writhing within its own skin, at war with the light. In the others Karmalaine sensed a future in which they could change, he sensed dynamic beings with a broad scope for construction and the preservation of Avalen. With Golgoleth there was only death and wrath, and that is all the ever would be.
The Prince had once quizzed his father on Bloodren and the presence of demons in Avalen. There was no dream more out of place than the dream of evil which they were, surely? It was balance, his father had explained to him. The first Fenn had experimented for a long time in creating a stable environment for dreams back in the early days. Initially he had excluded the demons, but he'd found that the world was not balanced and the Dream Sea could not be held back for any significant amount of time.
But with the demons, when they were within the Dreamstone Wall, there was a harmony to the governing dynamics which was not present in their absence. So the first Fenn had relented, and thus had significant portions of his time, and the time of those who'd ruled following his demise, been spent trying to control the demons which they had to accept as neighbours.
King Corul had told the Prince that fear and power were all the d
emons understood. They knew that they could not stand against the power of the Hammer of Fenn and fear of their destruction beneath it was what caused them to restrain their urge for war and destruction.
They continued on through the forest, the thought that within a day they would be heading back towards Fenn comforted the Prince, not for the want of the hustling noise of the city, no, but because of his family whose company was dearly missed.
It came upon them as almost a surprise, the forest suddenly ended. To the east and west it continued to circle around but before them was a large empty basin, a snowy field that went on for many leagues ahead. And there, far off in the distance, the Prince could see the mountains of Eredyss.
The tracks led straight down the long but gentle sloping hill into the basin. The Prince made to follow them down when he was stopped by Balg-Miur’s voice. “A city there”, he said pointing.
As he looked, the Prince saw that the giant was correct. He had not spotted it before, so well camouflaged it was with the snow, but certainly there was a large dwelling before them. In the middle of the valley, surrounded by snow, there was a township. The town itself seemed to merge with the snow, those parts of it which Karmalaine could make out were the parts made from blocks of ice. Only the different shades of ice and snow here and there made it possible to distinguish at all. At this range it was impossible to see any one moving within the city.
The airborne contingent of the group flew down and joined them at the top of the valley. “Snowdell”, sang out Kalwyn.
“Snowdell?” asked Prince Karmalaine.
“The city of the snow-dwellers, long lost, long forgotten.”
“I would think so, I have never heard of such a place, nor is it on the maps. What manner of folk live there?” asked the Prince.
“The manner of snow”, replied Vulthian, “I remember a little of these people. They lived in the elder days, before the Elementis Forge was active. When the eternal sun started to shine in Avalen their habitats disappeared. They protested to the palace, but were turned away and little was heard of them after that.”
“Why were they turned away?” asked Karmalaine, looking back down at the far-off city.
“You will know of the imprecise nature of the controls of the Elementis Forge. Snow for some would be snow for all, the Magister would not darken the skies of the whole world in order to provide a home for a few Snowmen”, replied Vulthian with almost a sneer.
“A shame”, said the Prince. “So we may have found out the identity of our mystery traveller”, the Prince mused. Karmalaine was pleased that the dreamer seemed to have departed company from the talented jackals. Whether by design or fault, it went in their favour for the dreamer to be away from the enemy.
“Let us press on and find the dreamer, with a hope he has not yet made it to the city. Given their history these snow-folk are unlikely to feel particularly friendly towards a party from the Palace of Fenngaard”, said the Prince.
“They are a weak people, My Prince, their opposition would prove fruitless before our might”, said Vulthian.
“Even so”, responded the Prince, “I would sooner retrieve the dreamer without incident.”
Karmalaine had just started to walk down the hill when Vulthian spoke again, though it did not seem as if he was addressing any one in their group. “My brother”, he said, and when Karmalaine turned he saw Vulthian was holding his claw against the side of his head in the fashion of a silver claw engaged in telepathic communication.
The Lord Captain did not seem to be aware he was speaking out loud.
“You are certain? Well done Captain, keep me informed of your progress. Currently south of Eredyss, moving to intercept the dreamer before he reaches a dwelling called Snowdell. Good work.”
When Vulthian had finished speaking he looked up to see the others staring at him. “Who was that?” asked Karmalaine.
“You heard?” asked Vulthian, sounding uncertain.
“Yes, it was a telepathic link?” continued the Prince.
“It was, My Prince”, responded Vulthian his usual disdainful tone gone, “that was Captain Asgoth of The Gentle Death. He says that the Lair is crumbling and that they are bombarding the mountain. He states that resistance is minimal and the task is in hand.”
“How was it that we heard you?” said the Prince curiously. It was the first time that such a thing had occurred in his presence and what was more intriguing was that the Lord Captain seemed to have been unaware that the other members of the group could hear him.
“Perhaps...” Vulthian did not sound sure, “it has been the case that when a link is weak, at very great distances sometimes the silver claws voice their telepathic communications out loud, it is an involuntary response which works to strengthen the link.” he surmised, though in Prince Karmalaine’s opinion it sounded almost as if the Lord Captain had made it up on the spot. Still, the Prince did not press him on the matter. He was pleased that Captain Asgoth and the fleet had been successful in their mission. Provided that they could secure the dreamer the conflict could be kept small in scale and brought to a positive conclusion.
“Very good then”, said the Prince, “let us press on and fulfil our part of the mission.” They'd only got about halfway down the hill when they stopped again, this time interrupted by a sound coming from the sky above them. Karmalaine recognised it instantly. “That sounds like a sky-ship”, he said.
“Multiple sky-ships”, said Vulthian in a whisper.
“There”, rumbled Balg-Miur pointing. Then they saw them, far off in the distance, heading south-east across the top of the basin. Prince Karmalaine counted about fifty, less than half the number that had originally set out from Fenn, and of the ones he could see many of them were emitting significant amounts of smoke from fires on deck.
“Try and raise Asgoth again”, said the Prince, turning to Vulthian.
The silver claw lifted his gauntlet, but after a few moments he shook his head. “He is gone.”
“How can he be gone when you only just spoke with him?” asked Kalwyn.
“Can you get to any of the silver claws with those ships?” asked Karmalaine.
Again Vulthian lifted his claw, he took longer to respond this time. He sighed before speaking: “I have just communicated with Captain Dagcla on The Weeping Scream; the attack on the Lair was repulsed by the talented jackals. Captain Asgoth ordered most of them to retreat before distracting the enemy with a small number of vessels in a full assault. The Captain says the last he saw The Gentle Death was going down in flames.”
“Then who have you just given our location away to?” growled Golgoleth.
“I do not know, he sounded, he sounded just like captain Asgoth. Even his mind was familiar, his memories”, responded Vulthian.
“We do not have time to discuss who it may or may not have been, we need to retrieve the dreamer now”, flamed Cyra the Silver, before lifting into the air sending a cloak of snow spraying in every direction. Kalwyn and Golgoleth followed suit. Prince Karmalaine and Vulthian began springing down the hill followed by the pounding footsteps of Balg-Miur.