When The Snow Melts

by Bluespectre

Chapter Twenty - The Desk Warrior

CHAPTER TWENTY

THE DESK WARRIOR

“What’s the name of this cesspool again? I want to know so I can remember it when I explain to my wife how I came down with the bloody flux.”

The clerk jogging alongside the governor’s horse desperately tried to grab papers from his document case. “It’s… err…”

“Oh forget it!” The provincial governor took out his box of snuff, taking a large pinch and inhaling. “What the bloody hell are we doing here, Ghai? Remind me now, will you?”

“Oh! The, err, that is, the lord has requested we attend and speak to the village elder about the recent wild animal attacks on the villagers. You will recall, sir, that lord Salu’s son, Nile, was deputy here.”

The governor sighed loudly. “So why isn’t he sorting out this mess then? Why in the name of all the gods in heaven am I out here, in the depths of winter, trudging through this damned snow?”

Ghai fumbled with his case, several of the scrolls coming loose and dropping softly into the snow. The governor rolled his eyes as his aide rushed about, trying to pick them up before they were ruined. Behind them, several of the warriors began to snigger. Ghai the bumbler, Ghai the governors pet—he’d heard it all before. The job paid reasonably well but was one hell of a far cry from what his parents had wanted for him.

Picking up the last scroll, he brushed off the snow and hurried to catch up with his employer. Governor Yito wasn’t a bad man really; he just had a remarkable capacity for forgetting everything within minutes of being told, sometimes only seconds. Ghai was used to it now. Nobody seemed to listen to anything he had to say, and most of the governor’s administration staff viewed him as more of a piece of useful furniture than a man. He didn’t mind, though—sometimes being ‘invisible’ had its advantages. Still, he wished he’d had a horse or this trip. His feet were killing him.

He cleared his throat. “Well, it would appear that deputy Nile was killed, sir.”

“Oh for…” Yito held his head in his hands. “No bloody wonder then, is it? I knew that stupid little arse would get into trouble sooner or later. Everyone thought it would be gambling. I thought it would be girls, but dead? Damn it all, this could be trouble with Salu’s clan for sure.”

Well, what was another war? The clans were constantly fighting, and Ghai had been raised to be a warrior like the rest of them. He’d been fortunate indeed that the governor had discovered his talent for administration shortly after employing him; otherwise, he’d probably have been killed long ago. When it came to sword-fighting, he’d nearly managed to decapitate himself in training, and so the decision to have him ‘reallocated’ as a ‘desk warrior’ had been a great relief to everyone.

Warriors from the governor’s office stretched out behind them, together with a cart for baggage and a few gunners. Ghai was quite fascinated by the devices. They were like portable thunder and lightning. The black powder blasted a small metal ball out of the open end at high speed towards your target, so very different to the traditional bows that required years of training to shoot properly. One of the gunners had showed him the powder once, and what happened when you stuck a lit taper into it. He sighed, shaking his head. It had taken weeks for his eyebrows to grow back after that, much to the hilarity of the rest of the staff.

Unconsciously, he reached a hand up and felt his forehead. They were still there.

“Ghai, what do we know about this village?”

The clerk went to open his case but thought better of it. Memory would suffice. “The village elder was killed in a raid some years ago and was replaced with the current one—goes by the name of Huro. Population is estimated to be around two hundred including children and elderly. It’s most notable for rice production, lumber, and excellent quality matting.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure we’ll all sleep better in our beds knowing that we’ve saved a village that produces nice mats,” the governor said sarcastically.

Ghai shrugged inwardly. This was another of his employer’s traits: sarcasm.

The forest track felt like it was going on forever. All around them was nothing but an endless mass of green, white, and brown. It was bitterly cold as well, his breath billowing out around him in white clouds. Despite this, the jogging to keep up with the governor was beginning to make him uncomfortably warm. This forest, this environment… he wasn’t at home here. Home was a nice cosy office, surrounded by books, ledgers, and writing equipment, not this. Why on earth had the governor brought him along? It was warm back at the manor, and he had the distinct impression he’d only been brought along so he could share the governor’s discomfort—and the fact he kept forgetting things all the time. Hadn’t he already told him about Deputy Nile? He was certain he had, but as usual, all he got from Yito was, “Uh-huh”.

Now they had that missive from Lord Ire. Its words had been short and to the point. ‘Attend immediately’ and ‘I await news of your success’. They hadn’t exactly left much room for manoeuvre. Yito had received the missive with a blank expression, probably not even remembering who ‘Deputy Nile’ was until he had been reminded numerous times.

Just to add to the misery, the clouds were beginning to darken, the mugginess in the air contrasting with the cold of the snow they were plodding through.

“Looks like we may be in for a storm, sir.”

“For the gods’ sake,” Yito groaned, “can this mess get any bloody worse?”

There was a white flash, so bright it left an afterimage in Ghai’s vision. A split second later, a loud rumble rolled around the hills. “Time for the waterproofs then,” the governor complained. “Fetch them from the baggage, will you, Ghai? There’s a good fellow.”

Ghai bowed to the retreating figure of the governor and jogged back to the baggage wagon. The warriors had started to pull out their capes and ignored him as he passed by. Good old ‘Invisible Ghai’. He quickly reached the lumbering wagon, its surly driver barely acknowledging his presence as he leaped onto the back to start searching for the governor’s rain cape and hat.

There was another flash, followed by a rumbling boom that shook the wagon and trees, sending clumps of snow down all around them. The oxen bellowed as its driver pulled on the beast’s reins to keep it under control, swearing loudly. Someone from up ahead was shouting something; probably Yito wondering where his rain gear was. Jumping down, Ghai ran through the snow back up to the front of the column where a group of warriors had gathered around the governor, staring at a huge amount of rock, snow, and earth that was blocking their path.

“Damn it all!” the governor spat. “It just keeps getting better, doesn’t it!”

There was no safe way around that they could see either. This part of the track had a fairly steep drop on one side and an even steeper upward slope above them. The warriors could get around it on foot, if they were careful, but there was no way the governor’s horse and the wagon would make it. Knowing Yito’s aversion to walking, leaving them behind was unthinkable. The governor began shouting at his men to find shovels, planks, in fact, anything that would clear this mess away. He didn’t want to be out here at night and, as Ghai nodded to himself, he had to agree. It wasn’t a pleasant prospect.

Work began quickly. The warriors, unused to physical manual labour like this, nonetheless took to the task enthusiastically. The governor snatched the wet weather gear from his clerk’s hands and spat on the ground. There had better be somewhere decent to sleep when he got to the village. That blasted dung heap would probably be little better than a few huts and a well. And fleas of course, peasants always had fleas. Yito watched the men working. They really should have brought some labourers with them, just in case. As always, hindsight was a wonderful thing.

He looked up into the sky. It was darkening, but there was no more lightning thank goodness, and he hadn’t heard any more thunder either. That was peculiar in itself. Thunderstorms normally went away gradually, didn’t they? This one seemed to come out of nowhere and to disappear just as quickly. It was the hills of course. This horrible place was noted for odd weather patterns and even stranger locals. By the gods, he hoped this nonsense would be over soon and he could get home to his wife, a hot bath, and something other than bloody travellers’ biscuits and dried meat.

He sighed. What was taking so long? Why was everything going so slowly? The sky was still dark and getting darker by the second. It was bitterly cold as well, so, so cold…

Ghai watched in horror as Yito fell from his horse into the arms of two of his warriors. It was chaos. Shouting and yells broke out as the men rushed to take cover behind trees and rocks. He just stood there in shock. Yito was dead? The governor? He’d been speaking to him only a moment ago and yet… and…

He stared at the black bolt shaft sticking out of the governor’s throat and retched. He wasn’t a warrior! What… What the hell was he going to do now?!

Beside him, one of the warriors grunted as a bolt shaft took him in the chest and he slipped, tumbling down the steep slope into the trees below. Another cry, another and another rang out across the snowy ground, mingling together with the loud reports of the gunners’ muskets. White smoke began to hang in the air. The stink of bad eggs from the black powder was not altogether unpleasant, but now it was almost impossible to see a few feet in front of his face.

There was a scream behind him, the sound of metal clashing and then another shriek of pain. Ghai’s heart was hammering; he had to get out of here! Grabbing his document case, the governor’s clerk ran back towards the rear of the column. What met him was a scene of utter carnage. The supply driver lay dead across the seat of his wagon. Even the bulls, the dumb, innocent beasts whose only job had been to pull the thing, had been slaughtered. The mindless ferocity of the attack made Ghai’s mind reel. He didn’t want to die here! He had to get away, and if there was one thing he could do, it was run.

With a grunt, Ghai hit the ground, hard. The wind was knocked from him; he choked and gasped for air, turning to see what had slammed into him. It was one of the gunners, his lifeless eyes already glazed and rolled up into his head. Pushing the body away, Ghai could feel panic beginning to take over, adrenalin surging through his body. Grabbing a tree branch, the clerk hauled himself to his feet and took a few breaths. It was now or never…

Tensing his muscles, Ghai suddenly froze. From out of the white smoke came a low thundering, the sound of what he knew could only be a horse galloping. In a heart-stopping moment, he saw it. The huge black shape appeared from the thick, swirling smoke, spiked armour covering its hide. It was riderless.

This was the chance he had been waiting for! If he could catch the horse, he could get away from this nightmare and get help. Quickly, he made for the beast, trying to keep low but grab hold of its reins before the frightened thing ran off. No doubt it was absolutely terrified, probably just as much as he was.

In a snort of steam, the horse suddenly turned its head and stared right at him. Bright red eyes, like the fiery pits of hell, bored into Ghai. Its teeth, like scythes of bone, caught off the reflected red glow in the smoke. It hissed at him, a shrieking clicking noise that froze his blood in his veins. The beast appraised him, then quickly turned, rising up onto its hind legs in one fluid motion that was as natural to it as walking was to him.

From out of the smoke, one of the governor’s warriors charged, his sword held up and behind, ready to deal a strike that could cut an opponent in half. The horse creature snarled, effortlessly unhooking the axe from its back, and somehow, grasping it in its hooves, swung it around in a deadly arc. The warrior never saw it coming. Perhaps it was just as well.

Blood sprayed out in a fountain, covering Ghai’s face, chest, and arms in a warm shower. Lifting his hands to his face, he gasped in shock and fell to his knees. What was happening? What was that thing? He wanted to run, to get away, but his body refused to cooperate, and he simply knelt there as the battle continued around him in the clouds of white.

He was dead. That had to be the answer. Ghai’s parents had always warned him about ensuring he was a good man, to be studious and honourable in everything he did. If he weren’t, he could find himself some day in one of the many hells his people believed in. Had he done something wrong? His life had been dull, certainly, a long boring slog of paperwork and scrolls, rather than the much vaunted life of the warrior that they had wanted for him. That was it, then, wasn’t it? He’d failed them, failed his parents and his lineage by becoming a clerk rather than a warrior. He was a failure and now he would pay for eternity in this dreadful place.

For how long he knelt there in the snow, Ghai had no idea, nor cared. His life was over; he had crossed over to the land of the dead, and now he was trapped here. There was no going back. How could things get any worse? It was silent now, though the white smoke still lingering in the forest air was probably a blessing in some ways. At least he wouldn’t have to see what that… that… thing had done to his comrades.

He looked up at the sound of approaching feet. A middle-aged burly man emerged from the smoke to stand over him, a sword held in his hand. Blood glistened on the blade as he watched him for a moment and then lifted it, placing the cold steel to his throat. The man looked like any regular peasant: muscular, weather-beaten, but it was his eyes that shook him. They were cold, heartless, as icy as the forest air.

Something else was coming.

The newcomer looked away at the sound of approaching hoof steps and bowed low. From the billowing smoke re-appeared the nightmarish horse creature, moving up to Ghai slowly, and snorted a blast of smoke into his face. It clicked and hissed at him, the noise unlike any horse Ghai had ever encountered before. His mind was reeling in shock. What he had seen, what was happening now, it all seemed like a dream he was having, and that he would wake up at any minute back in his snug bed at the governor’s mansion.

The creature hooked the axe back onto its spiked black armour and stared at him. The thing’s skeletal appearance was belied by the rippling muscles that were now stained with the blood of the fallen that littered the dirt track around him. It tossed its mane and appeared to be speaking to the peasant, who nodded respectfully and then addressed him.

“Who are you?”

Ghai’s mouth opened and closed several times, his throat parched with the fear that coursed through him. “I…I…My name is Ghai,” he choked. “I’m a…a clerk in the governor’s office.”

The creature snorted and lifted a hoof towards the document case he still carried. The burly man stepped forward and roughly snatched it from him, passing it to the creature. The thing shook its head and the man nodded again, taking out the documents. Ghai stayed where he was, his mind blank. They were talking! The two of them, this… this thing was having a conversation with the man! Whoever he was began to read out the documents to the armoured creature and then bowed to it once more before turning to him.

“You will come with us. If you resist, you will die. If you run, you will die.” He flicked the blood from his sword and sheathed it, taking a length of rope from the remains of the wagon and returning to bind Ghai’s hands behind his back.

Ghai began to say something, but the man backhanded him across the head. “If you speak,” he growled, “…you will die.”

Author's Note:

Edited by JBL

Comments

[Bluespectre]

6205722 Many thanks for the comments. I apologise if your enjoyment of the story was spoiled, however I've taken on board what you've said and will spend more time in future checking for grammatical errors. I totally understand the way spelling errors and so forth can detract from a story.

Due to the limited time i have to write, proof-read and edit, I am doing my best to check everything prior to publication, but obviously some slip through. Judging by your comments, quite a few in fact! I've tried to find someone to help check these over for me, but not had any success so far. If you can recommend someone who would be willing to help me with this, i would be very grateful.

Thanks again for the comments, i'll make the corrections you pointed out as soon as i have time.

Kind Regards,

Blue Spectre

[Bluespectre]

In a couple of the comments i've received, i've been advised to add the 'Human' tag. I've decided to add this now, as humans quite clearly do feature in the story rather prominently. Since Celestia finds herself in a world populated by humans, this won't really come as much of a surprise to anyone who's read past the first few chapters. I will emphasise however, that the story is not about humans. I can't give too much away though, as it will spoil the story. Since some readers clearly dont want to read stories that include them in any way shape or form (Which i can fully understand), hopefully the tag will avoid any more 'ruffled feathers'.

[Thranx]

Welp, there goes the governor and his boys. The Lord's gonna bring in the big guns when he gets the news.