Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #13 April 2015 | Page 135
you know.”
“Well, I for one have no intention of venturing into
any more woods or forests, or even a small spinney
for a long time to come,” Gamying said.
That night, they were glad of the extra warm clothing they had brought with them. Even with a roaring
campfire, the wind, blowing from the north, had a
bone chilling aspect. They awoke early, shivering,
and after a quick bite from their rations, they began
the long trek toward the Gap of Despair. It was easy
country, open grassland with a gentle ascent. The
grass was brittle with frost and crunched underfoot.
The four walked in silence, each lost in their own
thoughts. How is Simon getting on? I wish I had gone
with him. Jhamed will look after him. But what can he
do against a witch? What could I do against her?
By midday, the frost had disappeared and the spring
sun was quite strong. Manfred began to struggle with
the pace. I’m too old for all of this. After a brief stop
for lunch beside a small mountain brook, where they
refilled their water bottles, the three younger companions redistributed the packs so that Manfred didn’t
have to carry anything. They pushed on, Manfred
using his staff as a walking aid. By mid-afternoon, the
grassland had given way to rocky foothills with sparse
spiny plants and loose rocks that caused frequent trips
and slips. The going became slow and Manfred began
to wonder whether he had made the right choice. We
could have been in Fang by now, on horseback all the
way, settling down to a cold beer and a warm meal
before sleeping in a soft bed. I must be crazy.
Gamying seemed to sense his thoughts. “Don’t worry old man; we will reap the benefits with the easier
climb through the Gap of Despair. The path from Fang
would be impassable with so much snow around.”
They spent an uncomfortable night, sheltering behind
a few rocks as best they could. There was insufficient
fuel for a fire and they had to survive on water and
cold rations again. They huddled together for warmth.
Manfred opened his mind to read the thoughts of the
others. They are worried about Simon, about securing
the Sword. Gamying worries what we might find in
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Tamarlan. Aglaral is concerned about his family. He
has a cute baby boy. I cannot read Kris. It is as if he
guards his mind. That is unusual for a human.
Next morning they set off again at first light. Gamying
was now leading, as he was most familiar with the
mountains. “We must make the foot of the Ice Stair
before nightfall. There is a hut there and there should
be food and fuel for a fire. Then we will only have to
spend one more night in the mountains. Tomorrow we
shall rest in the mountain halls of Dia son of Din son
of Dane and taste dwarven hospitality.”
It was a tough climb. The snow got thicker the higher
they climbed, while the air got thinner. They were on
a clear path now, the winter route from the south to
Devil’s Mouth, usually used only on the rare occasions
when the more direct route to Fang was blocked by
snow. This year, the Fang path had been closed since
Late Autumn. The path to the east of Mount Despair
always got less snow than the path on the west side.
In addition, snow that built up on the Ice Stair would
often avalanche down the western path and block it.
The two paths met at the Ice Stair, which was essentially a huge staircase cut into the permafrost. It ran
up the side of Mount Fang, arriving at the top of the
Fang Glacier. From there it was an easy climb up to
the entrance to Devil’s Mouth, over deep packed snow
in both summer and winter. Below the Ice Stair, there
would usually be fields of loose rocks with abundant
wild flowers in spring and summer. It seemed that
there would be few wild flowers this spring season.
Gamying encouraged a quick pace, anxious to reach
the hut at the base of the Ice Stair before dark. Manfred had a feeling that they weren’t alone and remembered Dawit’s description of fell creatures and wolves.
He shivered, and not just from the bone-chilling cold
wind. As they climbed higher, the amount of snow
increased until they were struggling to force a path
through the frozen drifts. They stopped around midday, exhausted and hungry. They ate a miserable meal
from their cold rations. Gamying spoke for them all.
“We have travelled less than a third of the distance to
the Ice Stair and already more than half of the day is
past. I fear for our lives if we have to spend another
night outside. And not just from the cold. Have you