Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter IX

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea cover image: a wide, still river with forested mountain peaks rising on either side, underneath a clouded sky.
In which the tournament continues, but the machinations of the Ascended turn unseen.

Table of Contents

I awoke just before sunrise, and after only a short while I abandoned my futile attempts to sleep again. It was for the best that I would not compete this day, as I had not rested well. My thoughts were churning like the icy mountain streams in the land of my birth, fed by snow-melt in the spring. I feared that the banks of my mind would be flooded if I remained by myself in the quiet. I rose and left my room to light the fire. In these dry climes, the early mornings were cold, even in the summer. 

A fellow competitor, Rhea of the Golden Road team, had been attacked and nearly killed by a man in a mask. Reva had assured us that we would be safe during the Cerean Tournament; that it was forbidden to attack any of the contestants and that fairness in the games was sacred. She had been counting on that principle to keep Khalim safe, so that he and his god would not be at risk from the Ascended even after he made his presence known in the contest of magic. Now all the people of Phyreios knew his face and his name and what he could do. 

Could I keep him safe? I was unable to protect Fearghus, all those months ago. 


I laid the wood and lit the fire, blowing on the kindling until it caught flame. While the heat spread through the common room, I went to get my axe from underneath my narrow bed and laid it on the table to hone its edge. The assassin, whoever he had been, had caught me without my weapon. I would be ready the next time.

As the sun rose and filtered in through the windows, and the rhythm of my work eased my mind, I began to feel a bit more confident. Rhea had been caught alone—the four of us would just have to stay together. Aysulu and I had kept each other alive during our travels, and we could surely do the same for Garvesh and Khalim.

Aysulu’s door opened, and she slipped out, followed, to my surprise, by Roshani of House Darela.

In response to my bemused look, Aysulu explained, “House Darela is in danger. She needed a place to hide.”

This did not account for why the pair of them had evidently been sharing a bed, but I was not about to begrudge them anything. “You were right to be worried,” I said. “A member of the Golden Road was attacked last night.”

“Attacked?” Roshani echoed. “By whom?”

“I do not know. His face was covered.” I went to my room and produced the broken sword I had taken from him, laying it on the table beside my axe. “He was carrying this.”

Aysulu picked it up. “This is fine craftsmanship. He wasn’t an ordinary street tough.”

“This is the blade of a Serpent,” Roshani said. “It is as I feared. How did you get this?”

I told her of how Khalim and I had seen Rhea pulled out of the street, and how I managed to disarm the attacker, but he disappeared before I could defeat him. I also told her of the poison dagger, and that Khalim had managed to draw out the poison from Rhea’s blood before it could claim her life.

“The Serpents are servants of the seven gods,” Roshani said. “Most people think they are only legends. Officially, they do not exist. My father, Lord Ihsad, encountered one when he was young, so House Darela has known the truth for many years.”

“And you fear that these people would have tried to kill you as well?” Aysulu asked. She placed the blade gently down, careful of the jagged point where it had snapped against the stone wall.

Roshani nodded. “You were lucky to meet one and live. My father speaks of it but rarely.”

“Will you be safe?” I asked.

“I think so,” she said. “My brother Jahan will have rallied our defenses. I need only to be careful not to be caught alone.”

Aysulu pulled on her boots. “I will take you back to the nobles’ quarter. You can rejoin your brother and your team there.” To me, she added, “And hopefully, I’ll be back before—”

The iron latch on the front door rattled as the lock turned. It swung open, and Reva stood in the doorway, the early morning sunlight behind her. She saw Roshani in her blue silk and took a startled step back.”What is she doing here?” Reva’s hand hovered at the ready over the long knife at her hip.

Aysulu stepped between her and Roshani. “She was just about to leave.”

Reva came inside and shut the door behind her. “No, she isn’t. What is the meaning of this? Haven’t I impressed on all of you the need for secrecy? And now you bring people into this house, while the Serpents are on the prowl?”

Roshani nodded again, looking up briefly before dropping her gaze back to the floor. “The other families shunned us at the games last night. I fear this can only mean the fall of our house is near.”

“I see.” Reva relaxed only slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Even so, no one is to know I am still in Phyreios. You’ve endangered our mission, Aysulu—you’ve put me in danger, and Khalim as well. I trusted you to know better than this.”

Before Aysulu could answer these accusations, Roshani spoke up. “You should not blame her. My house can be an ally to you,” she said. “We have men and resources, and we are no longer friends of the Ascended. You have nothing to fear from me.”

Reva leveled a gaze at her, as cold as floating ice. “You’ll forgive me if I’m not given to trusting a noble, considering the times we now live in.”

“What can I do to assure you?” Roshani asked.

“You can promise nothing, little princess,” said Reva. “It is the word of your father that I would accept—but I could not risk all of House Darela trying to win their way back into the Seven’s good graces by delivering all of us to the palace.”

Roshani pushed past Aysulu to address Reva directly. “Then let me speak to him,” she said.

“And let you rally your house to come down on our heads? I think not.”

“I’ll send a message,” said Roshani. “You can even read it before it is sent. I can convince him to join forces with you; I’m sure of it. Until then, I can stay here, if you wish. I am not entered into any of the games today.”

Reva considered the proposition, her black brows drawn together. Tension hummed in the air like a plucked string. “Very well,” she said after a long moment. “One of you set the table for six, then. We have much to discuss.”

Aysulu put a pot on the fire, muttering something to herself in her mother tongue that sounded to my inexperienced ears like, “Could have sent word she was coming.”

Reva roused Garvesh, and he lent Roshani paper and ink and a quill with which to compose her letter. Khalim, exhausted from all the magic he had called up the day before, was not yet awake. It was the nature of gods to summon infinite power, but a mortal man always had some price to pay.

When he did wake, he came out of his room with his eyes wild, his hair and clothing disheveled. Without so much as a good morning, he said, “The worm is under the mountain.”

I was concerned for his well-being, but Reva merely looked up from her meal and said flatly, “Hello, Khalim. Did you have another vision?”

Roshani looked at him in horror. It was evident that Aysulu had not spent much time explaining the circumstances to her.

He nodded. “The mountain,” he repeated. “The hollow space, and blood—blood on the altar. The Seven…”

I stood up from where I was seated on the opposite side of the table. “Are you all right? What are you talking about?” I asked. 

Khalim held up a hand and shook his head. After a breath, he said, “I’m sorry. I’m fine. It’s just…hard for me to explain.”

“Sit down,” Reva ordered. “Eat. Then tell me what you saw.”

Khalim obeyed. I watched his distant eyes as he absently spooned the barley and vegetables into his mouth. Though he looked at the surface of the table, it was as if he saw nothing in that room—not the walls or the embers of the fire, nor the food in front of him; not even myself and the others. He was far, far away, under the Iron Mountain perhaps, at the same time he was sitting before me.

When he had finished, he seemed to come back to himself, and he turned to Reva and was able to give her his full attention.

“So,” Reva said, “what’s this about the worm?”

When he had finished, he seemed to come back to himself, and he turned to Reva and was able to give her his full attention.

“So,” Reva said, “what’s this about the worm?”

He took another steadying breath. “The great worm is sleeping, coiled up upon itself underneath the mountain. It does not breathe, and its enormous black heart pumps but rarely, but it lives enough to feel a seething hatred at its imprisonment—and enough to wake when it is summoned.”

“How much time do we have?” asked Reva.

“I do not know. But the Ascended are gathering strength and power. They will not wait forever.”

Reva nodded, her jaw set with grim determination. “You were speaking of an altar. What are they doing there?”

“Yes.” Khalim’s eyes shut as he recalled what he had seen. “Blood gives them power. They have a chamber where they are preparing the ritual. It doesn’t look like their temple.”

“Where is it?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.” With a shudder, he said, “There was so much blood. It rained down from above and stained the altar red.”

The idea of blood sacrifice unsettled him. Perhaps his gods of hearths and crossroads did not need it, but all the gods that I knew well did. Gods of war thirsted for blood, and the gods of the sea and the ice needed sacrifice to be appeased. The gods of the hunt asked for a portion of the gifts they granted back, in exchange for their benevolence. Still, even in the lands of the north, such a great quantity was a steep requirement. We had not the livestock nor the population of human beings to be able to sacrifice so many and continue to live.

Reva stood from the table. “You’ve done well, Khalim. Any information we can gain will help us. I’ll have my people investigate and see if any great numbers of people or animals have gone missing. We’ll need to search for the ritual chamber as well.”

“Maybe I will see it soon,” Khalim said softly.

“I hope you will.” To the rest of us gathered there, Reva said, “You may have already heard that a contestant from the merchants’ guild was attacked last night. My contacts suspect the Serpents are lurking about.”

“I know,” I said. “Khalim and I were there.”

Reva’s look was accusatory. “Is that so? You should have come directly here after the games. I don’t want either of you in danger, especially you, Khalim.”

“Rhea would have died if Eske and I hadn’t been there,” Khalim argued. 

“He’s right,” I added, but I did not disagree further. I had begun to fear as much as Reva did that something terrible would happen to him. 

Reva placed her hands flat on the table. “If the foolish singer from the Golden Road wants to blaspheme the Ascended, that is her decision. All of you are here for a greater purpose. You must not take any risks.”

“We saw someone in danger and acted,” said Khalim. “And neither of us are harmed.”

“You were lucky a poisoned dagger did not find both of you as well,” Reva said. “You must stay hidden, Khalim. Especially now, when our plans are coming to fruition. And none of you should walk the streets alone.”

Khalim’s shoulders dropped in dejection. “Might I at least go to the arena with the rest of the team?”

“Fine. But stay in your waiting area, and have someone with you at all times.”

Aysulu got up and gathered her bow and arrows from her room. “We should leave now, then. The contests will be starting soon.”

Reva dismissed us with a curt nod, and the four of us left her there with Roshani, who was not quite a hostage but certainly, for the moment, was not free to go.

I hefted my axe over my shoulder, and with a glaring look I searched behind every corner we passed on our way to the arena, looking for more gray masks. The day was bright, and quickly growing warmer. There were few shadows in which someone could hide and wait to ambush unsuspecting prey.

A few of the people walking alongside us up the cobbled streets recognized Khalim, and he returned their smiles. I watched every waving hand, searching for a dagger or a snake-hilted sword that might be seeking him out. He had not angered the Seven yesterday evening, and he had the favor of the citizens, but I had taken Reva’s words to heart. If he was not in danger yet, he would be before long.

It seemed that danger was following me wherever I went.

We arrived at the colosseum without incident. Aysulu’s horse was there, and had been dining well on green hay and apples—so well, in fact, that she nosed at our clothing for more when we went to check in on her, thinking that we would feed her as everyone else who entered her stall had. Aysulu lifted each hoof, to make sure every shoe was carefully secured, examined her tack, and brushed her down before we went to our designated place to wait for the games to begin.

There were to be two contests on this, the fourth day of the Cerean festival: first would be a test of archery from a standing position, with targets set at three different distances, as they had been for the javelin throw; and in the late afternoon would be the test of archery from horseback, with similar targets.

“I used to practice shooting through rolling hoops at a full gallop,” Aysulu said, surveying the arena. “This should be easy.”

She stood at the farthest line from the targets, and sunk her first two arrows easily into the center rings. I saw her draw the third back, line up her shot, and loose it, just as she had the others, but it fell short and embedded just inside the outermost ring.

“Well done,” I said when she returned. “The wind must have picked up there at the end.”

Aysulu shook her head. “There was no change in the wind. I should have made that shot. It was very strange that I didn’t.”

I acknowledged my friend’s confusion, but I was not concerned—she had still earned us a fair number of points. The other contestants fared similarly well. I knew not whether they also noticed some oddity.

The archer from the Dragon Temple, Hualing, missed all three of her attempts. When she turned to go back to her teammates, her expression was not one of shame for having done so poorly, but of distress and bewilderment.

“Something is wrong,” Aysulu noted. “From what we’ve seen of the Dragon Disciples thus far, they are all skilled warriors. Look, there.”

I looked where she was pointing: a soft cloud of dust, wafting up from behind the targets. The morning wind was gentle, and only where the competitors had recently walked were there more wisps rising from the ground.

“Have the targets been moved?” I asked in wonder. “I saw no one near them.”

“Perhaps it has been done by magic, or some mechanical devising,” said Aysulu. “Keep a close watch on them during the next contest.”

I promised her I would. We spent the next few hours waiting, finding something to eat, and observing as the course was set up for the afternoon games. A man dressed as a stable-hand brought Aysulu’s horse more food and water at midday.

It was less than an hour before the horse archery competition that Aysulu went once again to the stables, with the rest of us in tow, as we were following Reva’s instructions not to go anywhere alone. We found the horse listless and ill, swaying on her feet and barely able to lift her head.

“What has happened?” Aysulu asked. She looked for some injury that would explain the horse’s condition, but found none.

Garvesh picked up the empty water bucket and examined it, putting it over his face and inhaling deeply. “I believe this has been laced with poppy,” he said, “in a potent enough dosage to kill a man.”

“Who could have done this?” Aysulu asked.

“Impossible to say.” Garvesh set the bucket back down. “One can purchase it at the Flower of the Mountain, if one has the coin, and any number of people pass through the stables to care for the animals or move them. I’m sorry.”

Aysulu stroked her horse’s nose, worry etched into her face. “What should we do? Khalim, can you heal an animal?”

“Yes, of course,” Khalim answered. He took the horse’s face in both hands, and the stall was filled with warm light.

I leaned against the gate while Aysulu paced back and forth, glancing anxiously toward the arena. Already, a few of the competitors were beginning to line up to start the contest. There were only a handful, compared to the several dozen this morning. Mounted archery was the method of warfare on the steppe, but here, south of the red desert, armies preferred lines of infantry if they ever chose to venture outside the safety of their walls.

“What’s taking so long?” Aysulu asked.

“It’s quite a lot of poison,” said Khalim. “Just give us time.”

Aysulu muttered an apology and returned to watching the other horses make their way to the starting line of the course.

“I saw a stable-hand here earlier,” I told her. “Perhaps he was the one who did this.”

“Could you find him again?” she said.

I could not. Our waiting area was too far from the stables for me to have seen his face clearly.

“Do you think the Ascended are trying to sabotage us?” I asked.

She sighed. “It could be anyone. The Ascended, the Lion and the Wolf—even one of the other teams. We were in the lead until this morning.”

“I will keep a closer watch,” I said. “Maybe we could find a safer place to keep her.”

The light faded from the stall, and Khalim led the horse up. “She’s feeling much better,” he said. “You still have time to make it.”

Aysulu had the horse saddled and bridled in a flash, and she tore out of the gate and fell into line just as the horn blew for the course to begin.

The others and I went back to our place below the stands. Dust soon filled the arena, obscuring the hooves of the horses and the three-legged structures on which the targets rested. In the haze left behind after the contestants rode near us, I thought I saw another figure standing beside the Golden Road’s seats. A gust of wind blew through, and my suspicions were confirmed. Ashoka, the leader of the Divine Champions, was speaking with the merchants’ guild leader, a tall, sharp-nosed fellow by the name of Gaius.

This was not unusual in itself, but with everything that had happened over the course of the previous day, I worried that something devious might have been taking place.

“Stay here with Khalim,” I told Garvesh.

“Shouldn’t someone go with you?” he asked.

I waved him off. I was not worried for my own safety.

I made my way around the outside of the arena to the other team’s place under the stands. I arrived in time to see Gaius nod in assent, and Ashoka turn to leave. He caught sight of me and gave me an appraising look before departing without even a greeting.

“You’re Eske, aren’t you?” Gaius asked. “I remember you from the javelin throw.”

“I am.” Thinking quickly, I said, “I only thought to take the opportunity to inquire after the health of your teammate, Rhea. Is she well?”

“Yes, thanks to you and your mage,” he said. I expected relief, perhaps, or gratitude, but he sounded no less troubled than if she had still been at death’s door. “I thank the gods you were there in time.”

“It was the least we could do.”

He glanced around, furtive, before giving me a stiff smile. “Well, I should return to my companions. Thank you for stopping by.”

I could tell that I was being dismissed. I bade him farewell and went back to my own team. Something had happened between Ashoka and Gaius, and I had no way of knowing what it was—neither of them were going to reveal anything to me. I had only to wait, and keep careful watch for danger.

Aysulu galloped past as I returned to my seat, and her horse was neck and neck with the rider from the Lion and the Wolf. She stood up in the stirrups, knees bent, and loosed an arrow over his head. It flew across the arena and sunk into the center of the next target.

When she finished the course, she rode back to us with a triumphant smile. “I showed that reaver how it’s done,” Aysulu declared.

With her success, we had recovered our lead—though we now shared it with House Darela’s team, the Sunspear. If we were to be allied, this was a welcome turn of events.

On the way back to the house, I spent the very last of my coins on a clay jug of Cerean spirits. I thought a celebration was in order, but Reva had other plans.

“We’re meeting with Lord Ihsad of House Darela,” she said, “as well as the people from the Dragon Temple. Meet me in an hour at the warehouse in the northeast corner, behind the forge.”

Reva slipped out and disappeared behind the next house. We left with Roshani, now no longer a hostage but an ally. As the sun hid itself behind the Iron Mountain, where the worm slept in its prison, we walked into the shadow of the great forge and entered the meeting place.

Back to Interlude One

Forward to Chapter X


I’ll be running my Call of Cthulhu module for Midwinter Gaming Convention in Milwaukee, January 9-12! It’s got intrigue, horror, puzzles, and a world-ending threat, and is very newcomer-friendly, so come out and play with me! Click here for more information.

Blog content is and will always be free, but if you want to support my work, please consider throwing a couple dollars my way on Ko-Fi.

2 thoughts on “Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter IX

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.