Winter's Gift - Part IV

In Part IV of Winter's Gift, the true extent of the Yaghu's attack becomes clear. Blood and broken hearts litter the red-stained snow that carpets the Great Mountains.

His family torn asunder, Gidwyn sets off on a desperate quest to try and save what is left of his loved ones.

I've had some issues formative the paragraph indentations in this part - Blogger hates it when I copy anything straight from Word into its composition pane. The indentations will look a little wonky - for this, I apologise.

Part V will be released soon!

Gidwyn ran down the narrow and treacherous path that led down from Hammersmote Pass. He slipped and tripped as he went, twisting his ankle and straining one of his knees, but he could not care. I have to get back, he thought, ignoring the soreness and pain in his legs. I have to get back to the girls.

       Synera ran at his side, apparently unaffected by the arrow-wound in her flank – much to Gidwyn’s relief. She was a fierce sight: fangs barred, long teeth sticky with dark-blue Yaghu blood. Steam rose from the wound at her flank and her blood-slathered snout as she ran at Gidwyn's side, unfalteringly loyal to her master.

            Who was unspeakably terrified.

           Gidwyn's heart hammered in his chest as he ran. He felt no exertion, no sting of the cold in his limbs and none of the scratches to his hands and fingers from where he had slipped and grabbed on to whatever jagged piece of rock was beside him. He felt only fear - a terrible, cold terror that would not abate, that only worsened with every passing step. 

            They've got them. They've got them, the Dwarf thought as the air ripped from his lungs. What if they've hurt them? What if they've not managed to escape? What if they've...

            ...What if they've killed them?

          Soon, Gidwyn and his beloved wolf-dog were on the long plain that led to where his family farm lay. He could see Eoina, Kiryae, Karveth and Coren’s prints clearly in the snow – fresh and deep in the thick snow. He followed them at a run, constantly looking down at the tracks at his feet. They were movin’ slowly, they didnae rush, nothin’ were chasin’ ‘em – good, they must be safe, they must be-…

            Then Gidwyn saw one of the dark, barbed arrows in the snow.

           ‘By the Fire, no…’ he breathed, stopping to look down at the arrow. He desperately willed it to be an illusion, to be nothing more than a trick of the light – a chance shadow cast by a drift of snow, but it was not. It was real: cold, hard and deadly.

           ‘Eoina!’ Gidwyn yelled, setting off at a mad sprint through the snow. ‘Eoina! Kiryae! Kiryae!’

           The house was not far now, just beyond his herd of greatgoats – which he could see was parted as if they had fled in two directions. He could make out the chimney, the rounded walls, the thin trickle of smoke from the permanently-lit fire-pit. They must have made it, Gidwyn told himself as he ran, Synera by his side. They must have. Please, Fire, please…

             Gidwyn was running so fast he almost fell over Coren’s corpse.

           ‘No!’ he cried, pausing for a second beside the wolf-dog, unsure of what to do. Coren’s light-brown coat was peppered with arrows and vicious slash-wounds, and his tongue lolled from his mouth into the bloody snow around where he lay. ‘No, Coren! No!’ He wanted to collapse at the side of his beloved pet and weep, but he could not wait. He had to find Eoina and Kiryae. He had to know they were safe.

            ‘I’m sorry, my sweet boy,’ Gidwyn whispered, fighting back tears and scratching Coren’s chin just how he liked it one last time. ‘I’ll be back fer ye, I promise.’

            He set off at a run again, and as he did he saw movement in the distance.

            Between where the greatgoat herd had split, two creatures were fighting. Running at a flat-out sprint that set his lungs and his legs aflame with fatigue, Gidwyn neared the skirmish to see the white snow had been turned blue and red with blood.

           There, in the middle of the snow-covered plateau, Karveth fought with one last Yaghu attacker. This one, Gidwyn noticed, wore pieces of plundered Dwarf-made armour around his chest, shoulders and thighs, and carried a long spear in his hands. Around him, the snow had been dyed blue with the blood of his kinsmen, who lay torn and broken in a gory arc around where the final Yaghu faced Karveth.

             The largest of the wolf-dogs, with his thick, shaggy mane, loomed over the last Yaghu fighter. His hide was peppered with arrows and a broken spear was jammed into one of his shoulders, but Karveth stood strong and furious, his coat saturated with Yaghu blood. As the final Yaghu lowered his spear and slowly began to pace around the wolf-dog, Gidwyn realised that Karveth was standing over something – a small, bundled shape, curled into a tiny ball, almost hidden by the bloody snow that had been kicked everywhere during the skirmish.

            Eoina. Kiryae.

          ‘Ye bastard!’ Gidwyn yelled, rushing headlong towards the final standing Yaghu. ‘Ye murderin’ bastard!’

            The Yaghu spun to face Gidwyn, and as he did, Karveth struck. Like a bolt of midnight-black, fang-tipped lightning, Karveth tore into the final standing Yaghu. There was no time for the creature to scream as the wolf-dog’s bloody fangs ripped first through his throat, then through his neck, tearing his head clean from his shoulders.

            Synera and Karveth both fell on the corpse of the Yaghu in fury, unperturbed by their wounds. Gidwyn looked away as a cloud of blue blood erupted into the air, followed by greyish entrails and pallid lumps of flesh. He looked away, choking back a disgusted sob, and ran towards the bundle he had seen in the bloody snow.

          Trying not to look at the mangled Yaghu corpses littering the snow, Gidwyn ran to the small, cloak-covered lump Karveth had been guarding and fell beside it. ‘Please!’ he cried. ‘Please, please be alive! By the Fire, please!’

           The bundle lifted its head. A round, tear-streaked face framed by matted ginger hair looked out of a fur-lined hood. ‘Oh, Gidwyn!’ Eoina sobbed. ‘Gidwyn!’ she threw her arms around him and sobbed. ‘Gidwyn!’

            Prizing Eoina’s arms from around his neck, Gidwyn pulled his wife to her feet. ‘Eoina, look at me. Don’t look past me, I dinnae want ye t’ see…’ He took her cheeks in his hands and turned her around to face away from the bloody carnage littering the snow.

            Eoina, more tears pouring from her eyes and freezing on her cheeks, clutched Gidwyn’s hands in her own. ‘My Gidwyn,’ she whispered through her sobs. ‘My sweet Giddy…’

            ‘Eoina,’ Gidwyn said, his voice shaking. ‘Eoina, where’s Kiryae?’

          Eoina swallowed. ‘She’s with Coren,’ she managed to say through choked sobs. ‘Coren was protecting her.’

           Gidwyn felt as if someone had just reached into his stomach and squeezed it. ‘Wh-…what?’ He managed to say. ‘C-…Coren?’

            Eoina nodded. ‘We were runnin’, then…then those things attacked. They got ‘tween us, split us apart, there musta been ten o’ ‘em.  Kiryae was running back to you to get Synera an’-…’

            ‘Eoina, Coren’s dead!’ Gidwyn howled. ‘Coren’s dead!’

            What little colour left in Eoina’s cheeks abandoned her face. ‘Wh-…what?’

           ‘He’s…’ Gidwyn gestured to the faint, dark shape lying in the snow several dozen paces away. ‘He’s…’

           Eoina let out a choked cry and began to run through the bloody snow. Gidwyn tried to grab hold of her and stop her, but she was fast – far quicker than he was. Dragging his weary limbs, Gidwyn chased after his wife across the bloody snow, Karveth and Synera limping behind them.

             When Eoina arrived at Coren’s side, she screamed in horror, her eyes affixed on the dozens of arrows peppering his body. Gidwyn ran to her side and gathered her up in his arms, turning her away from the gory sight – the snow around the dead wolf-dog was now saturated with his blood.

          ‘Ye said…’ Gidwyn began, choking on his own barely-held sobs. ‘Ye said Kiryae was wit’ ‘im.’

             Eoina managed to nod.

          Gidwyn let go of his wife and looked at the bloody snow beneath them. There was a single Yaghu corpse nearby – one of the hideous, pale-faced creatures had bled out in the snow, its stomach torn wide by a savage claw-strike; its entrails led to Coren’s bloodied pads. The snow around where Coren lay was drenched in blood and so disturbed that Gidwyn could not tell a wolf-dog pad from a Yaghu footprint.

             Wait.

           Two sets of regular Man-like prints led away from the ground where Coren had fallen. They were equidistant but struggling – for they were dragging something between them. Whatever was being dragged had kicked and fought, cleaving great crevasses into the snow as they were dragged away. North, Gidwyn thought as he followed the tracks with his eyes. Towards Axefall Canyon.

             ‘No…’ Gidwyn whispered as realisation set in. ‘No…’

            ‘Giddy, what is it?’ Eoina said, grabbing hold of his hand and turning him to face her. ‘Where is she? She’s hiding somewhere, no? She’s cowerin’ in the snow, away from those horrible beasts’ black eyes, no?’

            Gidwyn could only shake his head. His tears were coming too fast.

            ‘…Giddy?’ Eoina said in a voice that was almost lost to the rising wind.

‘She’s gone!’ Gidwyn cried falling to his knees in the bloody snow. ‘Eoina, she’s gone!’

Gidwyn could not bear to look into Eoina’s eyes – the choked sob in her throat was too much for him to bear. He fell face-first into the snow and howled. ‘My Kiryae,’ he sobbed. ‘My sweet Kiryae…gone…’

          He felt Eoina collapse beside him, her arms draped over him – not for warmth and reassurance, but to try and support her collapsing frame.

         ‘I cannae…’ Gidwyn wheezed through his sobs, pushing himself up to his knees, taking Eoina’s hands in his own. ‘I cannae let ‘em take ‘er – not the Yaghu. I cannae let this happen, I have tae find her…’

          Eoina lifted her tear-streaked face to look into Gidwyn’s. ‘No, Giddy!’ she pleaded, clutching at his hands. ‘Ye’re no warrior, ye cannae go after ‘em! They’ll kill ye!’

          ‘I’ll-...I’ll take Karveth an’-…an’ Synera,’ Gidwyn said, trying to stagger to his feet. ‘Eoina, we ‘ave tae ‘elp ‘er! She’s our daughter!’

        ‘Giddy, no!’ Eoina cried, clutching to Gidwyn’s arms as he tried to pull away. ‘The dogs are hurt! Karveth can barely stand!’

        ‘Eoina, our sweet Kiryae, our little gift from the snow…’ Gidwyn said, tears pouring from his eyes and freezing in his beard. ‘We cannae let ‘em take ‘er!’

         ‘I cannae lose ye as well! Giddy!’

         ‘An’ I cannae lose ‘er,’ Gidwyn said, heaving his hands away from Eoina. ‘My love, I cannae let this ‘appen, I’d nae forgive myself!’

          The two Dwarves stood in the blue blood-stained snow only a couple of paces apart. Their tears were freezing on their cold-reddened cheeks; blood from the wound to Gidwyn’s face had mixed into the ice frozen into his beard. Synera and Karveth panted close by, their hot breath and steaming wounds forming misty clouds in the blood-reeking air as they licked at one-another’s wounds.

             ‘Giddy…’ Eoina breathed. ‘Giddy please…’

             ‘Eoina, I cannae leave ‘er,’ the Dwarf-man said. ‘I cannae let ‘er be taken by ‘em. An’ I need ye t’ stay ‘ere an’ make sure Karveth and Synera are healed properly. We cannae lose them as well.’

             ‘But wha’ if they kill ye?!’ Eoina screamed. ‘Wha’ if they take ye from me as well, Giddy? Wha’ is I never see ye again?’

             Gidwyn, tears still freezing on his face, stepped towards his dear wife and cupped her face in his hands. ‘Then know I died doin’ wha’ I thought were right. Know I fell chasin’ down monsters, fightin’ fer wha’ little good is left in this world.’

             Eoina took hold of Gidwyn’s wrists in her hand and screwed up her face. She understands, Gidwyn thought. She understands I cannae let this ‘appen.

‘I love ye, Gidwyn,’ Eoina said in a breath.

           ‘I love ye, Eoina,’ Gidwyn said, his voice cracking. ‘Til the Fire takes us all back t’ where we came from an’ beyond then into the dark.’

             Gidwyn gathered Eoina up in his arms and held her to him as if it were to be the last time he ever felt her. He pressed her into his body in the hope some of her stuck, so they could never truly be parted, and she clung to him as if she were ice upon a wind-scourged mountain rock. But they both knew it was folly.

As soon as Gidwyn loosened his grip and stepped back, he knew there was nothing he could do to take his beloved with him. Not that I even want to, he thought as he looked into her tear-streaked face. I cannae drag her into this. I have to do this. I have to bring Kiryae back.

             Gidwyn took a step back from Eoina as Synera and Karveth padded to her side, both covered in wounds but unbowed. He looked at the three of them; there was so much he wanted to say. But now is no’ the time for words, he reminded himself as he gazed into the face of his beloved wife. Now is a time for action.

             ‘I’ll see ye again,’ Gidwyn said as he turned and began to follow Kiryae’s tracks northwards at a jog. ‘Even if I ‘ave to move mountains, or part the seas. If I ‘ave to make the moon shine in the day an’ the sun rise at dusk, I swear I’ll see ye again.’

             Eoina said something as he began to run, but Gidwyn did not hear it. No more words, he told himself, for he knew they would break his heart.