Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #13 April 2015 | Page 137

staff, it seemed to take on new energy and become
a hot tornado that cut a swathe through the snow
blocking their way. They shielded their eyes from the
swirling mix of snow, water and steam as they quickly
moved forward, seemingly walking on air. I might as
well have erected a large neon sign, saying Manfred is
here.

assailed their nostrils. They collected snow and ice
and made tea on the fire. It was the first warm food or
drink they had taken since leaving the Impenetrable
Forest. The terror of the forest seemed mild compared
to what they now faced. All of them would gladly
have gone back into those trees rather than face the
howling wargs.

They didn’t stop until they made the hut at the base
of the Ice Stair. It was close to dark. The hut was built
from grey stone, without windows. It had a chimney
and a doorway, which had contained a sturdy oak
door. The door was now broken and splintered. The
hut was empty, a cold rock floor with a few wooden
benches. The cupboard doors were smashed and the
cupboards were empty. The beds had been destroyed.
The walls were covered with obscene graffiti, drawn
with something particularly obnoxious. As well as the
foul obscenities, there were many symbols scrawled
on the walls. They looked like an A in a circle, with
the bar of the letter extended to form a diameter. The
room smelt putrid, like a battleground latrine.

The three drew lots and Kris drew the first watch.
Aglaral and Gamying lay down beside Manfred and
tried to get some rest. Both of them slept fitfully, with
hands on the hilts of their swords. Kris tended the fire
and examined the sword he had been given before
they left Elannort. He was a writer not a fighter and
had never used a sword in anger before. He wondered
whether he would have the skill or courage to use it
when the time came. It would make a wonderful story,
if he slew a warg. The howls grew louder and more
frequent. Each time he jumped and the hairs stood up
on the back of his neck. He wondered why he had volunteered for such an adventure. Then he remembered
why. He figured it would matter little to the wargs as
they tore out his throat. He almost jumped out of his
skin when all of a sudden he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Manfred collapsed on the floor, totally spent from his
exertions. “I must sleep, I cannot help you now. Build
a fire. Defend the hut.” May the Balance preserve us; I
am too exhausted to do it.
The silence was suddenly filled with raucous howling.
Gamying, Aglaral and Kris needed little more motivation to do as Manfred had urged. “It would appear that
since we have made our presence known, the wargs
have chosen to do the same. Let us hope their fear of
Manfred keeps them at bay for a while,” Gamying
said.
The three men quickly gathered wood from the shattered door, cupboards and furniture. They soon had a
small fire burning close to the doorway. “We must be
careful to make sure we have enough fuel to last all
night,” Aglaral said.
They made Manfred as comfortable as they could and
the three men huddled around the small fire wrapped
in all of their clothing. The hut kept the cold wind
mostly at bay, which was some consolation for the
disgusting smell of urine and faeces, which constantly

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“Take some rest.” Aglaral said. “I’ll take over now.
They won’t attack until just before dawn, when it’s at
its darkest. Until then they will torment us with their
howls and hope that fear will win their battle for them.
They are cowards at heart. Our fire and steel will be a
match for them. Fear not, we’ll be in Devil’s Mouth
before this day ends.”
Kris simply nodded and shuffled off to take his turn
for whatever rest he could find. Aglaral’s words did
little to improve his mood. As he drifted off to sleep,
he heard a voice in his head. Soon. Very soon.
Aglaral was restless. Despite Manfred’s assurances, he
was concerned about his family. Would Velacourt keep
his word? He was also worried about the symbols on
the walls of the hut. He had seen them before, burned
into the tortured flesh of escaped slaves amongst the
refugees he had processed. Their stories were too
gruesome to recall. They found the refugee internment
camp like a luxurious inn, com &VBv