Young Writers Society

Author's Note: This part of the chapter has been edited and revised, so there is a chance previous reviews may no longer be applicable. The authors nevertheless thank the writers of those reviews for their valuable advice.

Chapter One - Rebellion

'Watch out!’

Ioreck ducked as a massive ball of snow hit the white granite walls of Albaster Castle. The ramparts shook and rubble and debris joined the flurry in raining down upon its occupants. Some soldiers were unfortunate enough to have stood too close to the crenels and toppled over. Brushing dust and snow off his cloak, Ioreck scanned his troops; aside from those who had fallen, there were no injuries, and he himself was unharmed. Of course, the snowball’s trajectory had indicated there was no chance it would have hit him, but when an object the size of a small cottage was flying towards you, you tended to take cover anyway.

Every year, just before the thaw came, frost giants decided to besiege the Àlbear Clan. No one knew why the frozen behemoths did so, thus, many stories as to their intentions were told – some believed the frost giants were the creations of a malevolent sorcerer, while others were convinced frost giants had lived on Àlbear soil long before humans did, and wanted revenge for being chased away. The frost giants did somewhat resemble humans, though four storeys tall and with vague facial features, but their intelligence was of a primitive kind, so there was no reasoning with them. Despite their motives, one thing was resoundingly clear: a single frost giant could lay waste to a city, and since eight were within five hundred yards of the city, they had a problem.

The mounted catapult closest to Ioreck was being prepared to hurl a boulder at one of the eight, but Ioreck dashed to it and stopped the engineer before he could.

‘Set it alight first,’ he admonished, picking up a torch, dipping it into a brazier and handing it to the soldier.

The engineer – a boy of about seventeen years – meekly accepted it and set the pitch-covered boulder aflame. Ioreck approvingly followed its flight as it soared through the air, and he could not hide a smile when it made contact. The victim bellowed deafeningly, its death cry echoing across the plain, and collapsed with a heavy thud. All around Ioreck, soldiers cheered.

‘There’s seven left!’ a commander to his right barked, effectively silencing the soldiers. ‘You can cheer when they’re all dead!’ The soldiers resumed their assigned tasks, but the commander still seemed anxious. He lurched towards the closest tower, brushed snow and his grey hair out of his eyes, and estimated the speed of the giants’ approach. ‘At this rate,’ he mumbled to himself, ‘they’ll be on us within the next five minutes…’ Suddenly, he whirled around and lurched back to his original position, calling, ‘Where are those blasted archers!’

Normally, a frost giant siege would be handled with much more composure, but that was when the northern city of Àlkepe was the target; the residing soldiers had long ago grown used to the annual siege, and since it was their only source of action every year, they probably even looked forward to it. Albaster, however, was located in the middle of the clan, so they experienced such threats much less often. Furthermore, Albaster’s curtain walls were only forty feet long (Àlkepe’s having a length of sixty feet), and since the garrison had been woken a mere six minutes earlier, the resulting panic was understandable, if problematic.

Ioreck strode towards the commander and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘You seem tense, Gabrius,’ he joked.

The man named Gabrius was fully dressed in plate armour, save for the helm, just like everyone else, but his cloak identified him as a senior officer. Ioreck was an Àlbear and ruled the clan, so he had an azure cloak with white trim, a rearing, battle-ready white bear in the centre; however, Gabrius was a Grǻsalamander, so his cloak was emerald with yellow trim, a cross in the centre, a flowering shrub behind it and a green salamander on it. The shrub bore the legendary Destiny Flower, and it only grew in the forests far to the east of the Àlbears, not too far from the coast. It was there that the Grǻsalamanders had once lived, but war had driven them to the west, to seek their ally’s protection, and what remained of the once great clan had been the Àlbears’ vassals since.

‘Do I?’ Gabrius sniffed and smiled weakly.

‘We have faced frost giants in the past, and we are still here,’ Ioreck stated matter-of-factly.

‘True, but there is always a first time, and this snow obscuring our visibility is not helping much – every second missile seems to be a miss; those monsters are now no farther than four hundred and twenty yards, so that’s more misses than we can afford.’

‘Well, they still have some distance to go before they reach us,’ Ioreck said reassuringly, ‘and the castle is on a hill, so the last few yards will literally be an uphill battle. Besides, I’m sure the flurry will end soon.’

‘Just as the last one of them drops dead, no doubt. Mark my words.’ Just then, a troop of archers arrived, most of them clutching their bellies and panting. ‘Were you recruits having a tea party?’ Gabrius exclaimed. One of them was about to protest, but Gabrius silenced him with a wave of the hand. ‘Save your excuses for later, just…’

He was interrupted by another gargantuan snowball rocking the ramparts. Ioreck turned around and saw the catapult at which he had been earlier smashed to pieces. The body of the operator, a shattered plank protruding from his chest, was being carried away on a stretcher. Ioreck shook his head – one more letter he’d have to write to a grieving family.

He turned back towards the archers; they were scared witless, and one of them had even wet himself.

‘Really?’ Gabrius was disgusted. ‘Move to the back of the troop, boy; I don’t want your stench clouding my senses.’

The young recruit obeyed the command, his head hung low.

‘Gabrius,’ Ioreck said softly, ‘that was harsh; one should lead through example, not intimidation.’

‘Fair enough,’ Gabrius admitted. He made to say something else, but his eyes lit up with inspiration. He snatched a bow from the nearest archer and offered it to Ioreck. ‘Then lead.’

Ioreck accepted the bow, took the archer’s quiver and approached the parapet. He guessed the nearest frost giant’s distance – three hundred and forty yards – took aim, and fired. The arrow fell short. Undeterred, he nocked another arrow, took aim, and fired once more. That time, the arrow struck true, but it embedded itself in the behemoth’s chest – a useless hit.

‘That’s how it’s done!’ Gabrius roared, despite the failure, and urged the troop closer. ‘Now, ready a volley and follow Lord Ioreck’s lead.’ Another troop of archers arrived, so Gabrius left to instruct them.

Compensating for the frost giants’ reduced distance, Ioreck took aim. ‘Loose!’ he called. One whir was followed by many more as the archers fired, and though many of the arrows hit their mark, they did not slow the giant’s progress by even an inch. The following volley had the same effect, but the third managed to blind the giant. It tripped in front of a comrade, sending both tumbling to the snowy ground.

They struggled to untangle themselves, but the blind giant was in a panic and hindered the other’s rise. Ioreck and his archers watched the scene unfold in stunned silence, forgetting to resume their assault; however, the nearby siege engine operators seized the opportunity. Most of the flaming boulders only succeeded in sending up clouds of snow, but one struck the writhing mass and dispatched both behemoths.

Ioreck could not believe their luck; three frost giants had been slain in a matter of minutes! If they were lucky, they could slay the remaining five before they reached the castle.

Invigorated by that notion, Ioreck rallied his troop and sent another wave of arrows raining down upon the frost giants. By the time they were two hundred yards away, several more volleys had been fired, but to little more effect than enraging the already furious giants. Nevertheless, patience and diligence proved virtues indeed, for after the following volley, one of the frost giants, which by then resembled a porcupine, finally gave in and simply collapsed.

Four down, four to go, and there were one hundred and eighty yards left. Excellent odds. At least the frost giants had abandoned throwing those monstrous snowballs…

As the distance between man and monster grew ever shorter, the desperation in the soldier’s actions heightened. The engineers at the catapults were shaking heavily as they reloaded their siege engines, and the archers behind Ioreck were positively quaking in their boots. Even he could not suppress a tremble in his arms – Ioreck was the last of his line, but others had entire families hiding in the city; it was their loss he feared.

He prayed for deliverance. In response, a horn sounded faintly in the distance.

Not daring to give the soldiers false hope, Ioreck rushed to Gabrius, who was gazing through a spyglass. His brow was furrowed in concentration.

‘Anything?’

Gabrius sighed exasperatedly and lowered the spyglass. ‘No, nothing. You have a go – your sight’s always been the best.’

Ioreck raised the spyglass to his right eye, but the flurry obscured his vision too much. The wind shifted and suddenly he could see a battalion of cavalrymen galloping at full speed towards the giants. One of the riders at the front blew on his horn again, but that time the frost giants heard it. Bewildered, they skidded to a stop and turned around.

Ioreck could have whooped for joy! True, cavalry could only harry the frigid monstrosities at the best of times, but a distraction was exactly what was needed – already, the engineers had felled another giant.

‘Archers, cease fire!’ Gabrius bellowed.

Across the ramparts, officers relayed the order, and the activity quickly died down. Soon, the only sound that could be heard was the groaning of wood as the engineers operated their siege engines; everyone else watched anxiously as the scene below unfolded.

The battalion of cavalrymen had divided into two groups and were harassing the frost giants. Whenever one made to kick them, they simply swerved out of the way and attacked the other leg, similar to a flock of starlings evading a raptor. They continued like that for several minutes, expertly avoiding the deadly kicks, while the giants themselves were struck down one after the other.

When only one remained, the cavalrymen converged once more, but the sole survivor had by then realised what their strategy was. Feinting a kick to the front, the giant swept its leg to the left and sent a couple of the riders flying, provoking a collective gasp from the ramparts. The giant made to crush the fallen riders with its fists, but a flaming boulder struck it square in the back, causing it to sink to its knees instead. It would have collapsed onto the two men on the ground, but their fellow riders pulled them to safety just in time.

Immense cheering erupted and Ioreck found himself joining in the celebration. Horsemen streamed from the gates, and while they were initially shocked at seeing the frost giants defeated already, they quickly recovered and formed an honorary column.

‘The tardy lot,’ Gabrius commented. ‘They literally missed the whole thing.’

‘Then, I suppose we shall simply have to drill them until they can don their armour and mount their horses in their sleep,’ Ioreck proposed good-humouredly.

The two descended the ramparts and were chatting pleasantly, when Ioreck chuckled and pointed out the snowfall had ceased. Gabrius looked up and indeed, the sky was clear.

‘What did I tell you?’