chance.’
‘Da, how can you say this?’
‘Drem, you’re usually the practical one. Think. I’ve told you what I plan to do.’ He put a hand to the sword that was hanging through a leather thong at his hip, the blade wrapped in leather and sheepskin.
Asroth. Drassil. With us being attacked, Fritha taken, I’d almost forgotten my da plans on slaying a demon-lord.
‘Hildith and Ulf have told us we are involved in this investigation into Calder’s death. Do you think we’ll just be allowed to leave? And now there’s blood feud against us. A whole town of miners and trappers out for our blood. I’ve told you: something is wrong here, and we need to be away, before it’s too late. This is the perfect opportunity, while the townsfolk, and the men who wish us dead, are stumbling snow-blind amongst these woods. We could just turn around and go back, and no one would know for a good while. We could get a day’s head start. We should go.’
He let go of Drem’s wrist, just held his gaze. His looked grieved to say it, clearly knew the turmoil Drem was feeling over Fritha.
‘You’re right,’ Drem said, ‘it is logical. It does make sense. But … Fritha …’ He trailed off, unsure of what he meant or wanted, just knowing that he felt torn, emotions running through him that he was unable to put into words. He looked at his da, feeling as miserable and conflicted as he could ever remember.
His da sighed, nodded.
‘We’ll see this through,’ he said, ‘find Fritha …’
Alive or dead, Drem finished his da’s sentence.
‘And then we’ll be away, quick and quiet as we can,’ Olin added.
‘Thank you, Da,’ Drem said, relief washing through him. To give up on her now would feel wrong.
Olin took the lead, pushing on through the deepening snow. The hounds were silent now, and Drem could see no one to the left or right, only the snow, the constant flutter of it in his face. Olin’s eyes were on the foliage about them, branch and bush. He paused once, lifting leaves that had been snapped, scraped past; he marched on more quickly.
And then somewhere up ahead hounds were barking, a raucous baying, close, much closer than Drem would have thought, and he felt his heart lurch in his chest. He broke into a run, past his da, the sound of the hounds growing ever louder, deafening now, and changing, snarling, growling, snapping, a yelp and whine. Drem burst into a clearing, or, at least it was a clearing now, as a giant white bear had snapped branches, torn bushes up and uprooted trees in its violence against the hounds that had tracked it and brought it to bay.
There was blood on the snow, a hound crawling, whining, its back legs not working, another hound lying as still as stone, head twisted at a sickening angle. Others were circling the bear, snarling and snapping as the great beast growled and swiped at them with its huge scythe-like claws.
Where’s Fritha? Drem thought, looking about frantically for her, but he could see no sign of her. Hope drained from him.
It wouldn’t have left her alive in its den, or anywhere else. Dead and stored, more likely. He’d seen predators do it many times, hide their kill until they felt it was safe to retrieve it. He felt a rush of anger, rage like he’d never felt before.
I will kill you, bear, for what you’ve done.
Ulf burst into the clearing, a handful of men about him, all of them pausing for a frozen moment, staring at the white beast in astonished wonder. Then a man was charging it, a spear levelled at the bear’s chest, stabbing through fur and flesh, the bear bellowing its pain, a shrug of its shoulder and claws splintered the spear shaft, another swipe and the man was spinning through the air, an arc of blood trailing him. He crashed to the ground, rolled, didn’t move again.
As if breaking a spell, the first man’s ruin released the others from their frozen stupefaction, Ulf bellowing, the others rushing forwards, spreading about the bear, jabbing at it with their weapons. Drem charged with them, Olin following more cautiously, unsheathing their own blades. Drem heard the distinct sound of sizzling, saw snowflakes melting to steam where they touched his da’s black sword. Then they were part of the net closing on the white bear, Drem stabbing when it slashed or bit in another direction, jumping back when