Empire of Ice
by Neil Carstairs

Halerian was shown into my rooms just after the noon bell. He draped his furs over the arm of the visitor chair and went to stand before the open fire, holding his hands out to warm them. It was not winter yet, though flocks of migrating birds had gone south weeks before, and the first reports of ice floes had arrived on my desk just that morning from our northern posts. A serving girl brought roast pork and hot mead to him. He waited until his bodyguard, the ebony skinned Shilo, had tasted both meat and drink, then sat down before me.

‘How do you stand this cold?' He spoke around a mouthful of pork, fat dribbling down his chin. Halerian was an able man, one to be feared and respected, but he had few manners to speak of, which was why he rarely strayed far from his home.

‘It is not cold until the snows fall,' I said, ‘and not really cold until the sea freezes.'

He raised one eyebrow.

‘Truly?'

‘Truly,' I gestured to the reports. ‘Ice floes will begin to fill the great lake and within one month the river estuary will be impassable.'

‘So where do you dock your ships?'

‘To sea, supplies will come across the ice packs on sleds.'

‘Gods,' Halerian shook his head. ‘I shall not enjoy it here.'

‘Here?' The one word voiced my unasked question as to the reason for his visit.

‘I bring news from the empire.' He settled into his chair, kicking off his boots
and putting the now empty plate onto the floor beside him.

‘Good or bad?'

‘What do you think?' He was playing with me, a subtle smile on his lined face.

‘Who sent you?'

‘The Emperor.'

‘Then the news will be good and bad.'

‘Aye,' Halerian sighed. ‘First, news from the south. Draal has fallen.'

Unsurprising, I thought. The fortress city had been under pressure for two or more years. From what I knew, the peoples of the south had gained a new spiritual leader, one who had united them.

‘Governor Kiel failed to subdue the nomad tribes and then lost the city.'

‘No doubt Emperor Valien showed his displeasure?' I asked.

‘A little difficult I'm afraid,' Halerian smiled a humourless smile. ‘Kiel tried to evacuate the city. He first sent a convoy north with minimum guards. The convoy consisted of families and Imperial treasures. The nomads captured it. All males above the age of ten were killed, any other survivors taken into slavery. Gold, silver, ivory and silk of incalculable value were lost too.'

‘And Kiel'

‘The Emperor sent the Thirtieth Legion to assist him. Kiel took his legion and the
Thirtieth out to face the nomads in battle. He outnumbered the nomads three to one. He lost.'

Halerian finished the mead and indicated he would like more. I summoned the girl. When she left, Halerian said:

‘Kiel was captured during the course of the battle. Ten of his legionnaires witnessed his execution and were set free to return to the Emperor to describe it.'

I saw the look on his face and asked,

‘How did they kill him?'

‘Ropes were tied to each arm and each leg. Those ropes were then attached to the harnesses of four horses. Governor Kiel was torn limb from limb. It is said he screamed for two minutes before he died. The nomads then fed his remains to their dogs. What the dogs did not eat was fed to their pigs.'

‘Gruesome,' I said.

‘Worse,' Halerian added, ‘the nomads then chained the dogs and pigs and waited three days for the animals to shit out what was left of Kiel. The shit was then packed into cases for the legionnaires to bring back with them.'

That brought the hint of a smile to my face,

‘Clever,' I said.

‘Insulting, provocative, challenging,' Halerian nodded. ‘And, yes, I admit it, clever. Though perhaps the nomads were too clever.'

‘Too clever?' I could see a glint in Halerian's gaze, a subtle movement that showed he held secrets to be released a little at a time.

‘That brings me to the second part of my news,' he said, sipping again at his mead. ‘The loss of Draal and the message sent by the nomad leader has had repercussions beyond what they could have imagined.'

‘In what way?'

‘Emperor Valien was held responsible by the Senate for what took place in the Southern continent. A challenge to his authority was laid.'

‘By whom?' I asked when it became apparent that Halerian would say no more until he forced me to voice the question.

‘Senator Arbutus.'

‘Aaah,' I leaned back in my chair, a cold finger of dread stealing along my spine. I tried to hide my moment of fear with nonchalance, but Halerian, with a quick smile, had seen evidence of it.

‘Indeed,' he chuckled unpleasantly. ‘Arbutus, Emperor Valien's sworn opponent, and through that, your sworn opponent.'

‘And who do you represent?' I asked.

‘My Emperor,' he said, and before I could respond went on. ‘Tell me about this land.'

‘It is cold,' I said, at once both relieved and unnerved by his change of subject.

‘Even in summer?'

‘In summer the frozen ground turns to marsh and the air is full of mosquitoes. In winter the cold will shatter a sword and breath will freeze on your lips.'

‘And tell me about the people who make this their home.' He wiped fat from his roast pork that covered his fingers onto his leather jerkin. It was already dark and stiff from similar treatment.

‘They have adapted to life here. They hunt during the summer for the meat, fur and fat that will sustain them during the cold months.'

Halerian watched me speak, but seemed hardly to listen.

‘And the men of your Legion. They are content?'

‘Perhaps some wish for a warmer climate. We arrived six years ago on a posting for ten. Most brought their families, as is the way with legionnaires, and see this as their home.'

‘And tell me about this Council.'

I saw the gleam again in his eyes, and knew that finally we approached the core of his interest.

‘What do you want to know?'

‘I have heard, through writings sent from this outpost, of a Ruling Council. I simply wish it explained to me.'

‘It is a way for myself, and my Legion Commanders, to understand the environment we live in by dealing directly with local inhabitants.'

‘And,' Halerian said softly, ‘what is the term you use for these dealings?'

‘Local representation,' I said.

‘Yes,' Halerian made great play of the words, drawing them out as he repeated. ‘Local representation; an interesting concept, not one that our Empire has ever found a need of before I believe?'
‘Life is harsh here,' I said, and knew that though he heard the words I spoke, he did not listen to, nor understand them.

‘The same writer informs me that this Council has an equal number of seats allotted to the locals as to us?'

‘That is true,' I said.

‘Why?'

‘The inhabitants co-operate with us if they see they are listened to.'

‘Co-operate!' Halerian's voice broke harshly across the desk. ‘If they do not co-operate willingly, they should be made to at the point of a sword.'

I shrugged, knowing it would infuriate him. Halerian sat forward, eyes narrow in the firelight.

‘I am here at the command of my Emperor. He and the Senate are angered at the news from the Southern continent. They are also angered by writings that tell of a corner of our Empire where our strength is bled away by showing weakness in the face of local tribesmen. If news of this seeped to other provinces there would be rebellion and anarchy.'

I let his anger break across me as if it were a surge in the tide.

‘I shall write to Emperor Valien to explain my position,' I said.

Halerian cut me short with a dismissive wave,

‘Valien is dead, his throat cut on the steps of the Senate. My Emperor – your Emperor – is Arbutus. He has sent me to arrest you and your Legion, to send you back in chains to be dealt with as a traitor. I shall take command of this outpost and return it to the true governance of our Emperor, our Senate and our People.'

Halerian fell silent. Above the crackle of the fire, I asked.

‘How do you propose to arrest an entire legion?'

He pointed to the room's single, narrow window. I walked to it under the unblinking gaze of his Numibian bodyguard. I pulled back the sealskin covers, then opened the shutters. The harbour side was rimmed with frost, and I saw, out beyond the breakwater, five double-hulled transports rocking with the waves. Halerian came to my side; I tasted his breath and his body as a bitter tang in my throat.

‘My informant tells me that the ships are too big to come into this harbour,' he said. ‘They will therefore travel north to a bay where the Legion they carry will be put ashore. We shall march south. You will either surrender, or die.'

His hand rested briefly upon my shoulder, resembling the talons of a falcon upon its prey.

‘Choose wisely,' he said, then turned, reclaimed his boots from the floor and lifted his furs from where they were draped before leaving the room without another word.

I waited the minutes it took him to descend the stairway. I watched as he and Shilo crossed the quay. They walked with care upon the ice that edged the stone paving. As they made their way down the steps to the waterside I lost view of them. For a moment I hoped Halerian would slip on the steps and fall, breaking his neck. Fate was not on my side as he and his bodyguard reappeared in a rowing boat, making their way steadily to one of the transports. I watched them climb rope ladders to the deck; again with hope they would fall. A life here was measured in heartbeats if a man fell into the sea. Once again, I was disappointed to see him safely aboard.

I replaced the shutters and covers, and then opened the door to my rooms. My adjutant, Christopholus, was waiting patiently at his desk.

‘Summon the Legion commanders,' I said, ‘and afterwards find if Amresh is available.'

I sat at my desk and thought of Valien. I had known him since we had schooled together under the tutelage of Verisimus. I had saved his life at the age of twelve when he fell into a river. Then years later, serving with the Fifth Legion, I saved him again on the battlefield. I had stayed with the Legion when he returned home upon the death of his father, inheriting a seat in the Senate. Our friendship, and his debt to me, saw my promotion to legion commandant, and from that point my wealth and influence grew. Of course, that earned me enemies, and eventually it had led me to this place; Valien believed in protecting me from the politics of our homeland. Now those politics had murdered him, and were back to haunt me.

The legion commanders arrived, filing silently into the room. Christopholus had told them of Halerian's visit. They listened without expression as I repeated the conversation. It was Andrus, the Primian, who spoke for them.

‘We cannot accede to his demands.'

I accepted their decision with relief. Andrus continued,

‘We may all know officers of his legion, perhaps we can appeal to them.'

I shook my head with regret.

‘There will not be enough time. Halerian will know the layout of this town and its defences from his informant and will also have made his own observations during his visit. He is an able commander; his legion will be deployed on the march south for an immediate assault. We have no choice.'

Silence greeted my words. I looked at them, one by one. They were as much friends as junior officers. I had known some of them for more than twenty years.

‘I shall speak with Amresh,' I told them. ‘Thank you for your support.'

I followed them from the room, taking Christopholus with me across the town to the single storey stone building that housed Amresh and his family. He still looked as he had the first day I met him. A small, wizened man, face burned dark by wind and sun. His age was indeterminate, though he had grandchildren old enough to marry. He sat and listened in silence as I told of Halerian and the events in my homeland. The room in which we sat was heavy with the smell of burning whale fat and my throat was thick with the stench. When I finished, Amresh said.

‘I know the bay of which you speak. How long will it take to land his army?'

‘A full day, perhaps more if the weather is not in his favour.'

‘So if they begin landing at dawn tomorrow this army will not begin its journey until the following day?'

‘Halerian will not risk dividing his legion. I know that much of him.'

Amresh nodded, sucking on a stick of dried reindeer meat.

‘You have journeyed far to be here,' he said quietly. ‘Are you willing to take the next step?'

‘Perhaps I have no choice,' I said.

‘Perhaps,' his dark eyes glinted, ‘and what of your legion?'

‘They will take the same journey as I.'

‘So be it,' Amresh slapped his palm on the sealskin-covered floor. ‘We shall leave at sunrise.'

The following day dawned bright and cold. I stood beside Amresh as the town gate closed behind us. Ahead was a never-ending expanse of rolling tundra. I turned briefly to look at the low wall we had raised in the first years of our occupation of this place. There was no real need for it. Threats to the security of the town only emerged in winter and were limited to wolf packs or bear attacks. The wall gave the men of my legion something to patrol. Amresh was already striding out, heading north. We followed the worn path that led to the dozen settlements that clung to existence on the coast. As we walked, the sun climbed low in the sky; casting our shadows on the short, brown, frost hardened grass.

We walked for three hours, eating cured meats and drinking water laced with alcohol distilled from the roots of rushes that grew during the summer months. Amresh hummed to himself, and spoke no words to me, as he continued his steady pace. If he had any emotion about what was to come I could see no evidence of it. Finally, after the sun peaked at only thirty degrees above the horizon, he stopped. He slid the pack he carried to the ground and from it removed a leather case no bigger than his hand.

‘Show me your chest,' he said.

I undid the leather fastenings to my furs, then to the tanned skins I wore beneath. I lifted my clothing up as the old man opened the case to reveal slick and yellow whale fat. He dipped his thumb into it and then, speaking in his own tongue, drew the thumb down my chest to leave a pungent smear of fat upon my skin. He nodded to me, and as I adjusted my wear he repeated the action to himself. Then, the case stowed and pack upon his back, he strode out again.

It was another hour, and the sun at our backs, when we saw the first sign of Halerian's legion. Five men set a line across our path. Amresh stopped a hundred paces short and said.

‘Remove the glove of your right hand.'

I did so without question. From his belt Amresh pulled a knife, the short, stubby kind used to skin seal and wolf. The blade was sharper than any I knew and he took care as he held my hand, thumb forward, to make a small incision in the skin. He squeezed gently at the wound until a drop of my blood spilled onto the ground. Then he repeated the action to himself. As he worked he chanted softly words that had the cadence of a prayer.

‘We are ready,' he said.

The guards let us approach until we were ten paces short, then called us to a halt.

‘I am here to see Halerian,' I said.

The senior man saw I carried only a short sword and Amresh only a knife. He allowed us through, assigning two of his men as escort. They walked, one man to each side of us, hands on the hilt of their swords. Inland, to the west, I saw a dark bank of cloud massing. Amresh saw it too, and began humming once more, the ghost of a smile upon his face.

The storm came quickly upon us, presaged by fitful gusts of cold wind that pulled at our limbs. The clouds grew higher in the sky, boiling like pits of tar. Beneath them, in the shadow between sky and ground, I saw the first twist of snowfall. Our escorts shivered as the temperature plunged suddenly. I felt it as a soft breath upon my exposed flesh and knew that Amresh had warded us against the cold. The first tents of the legion camp came into view, guy lines and fabric snapping in the wind. I heard Amresh say,

‘It is time.'

The guard on my right had put his hands into his armpits to keep them warm. He had no defence as I drew my sword and cut the blade across his throat. As he fell I turned, Amresh took a step back, exposing the second guard to me. This man reacted a little quicker; drawing is own weapon and stepping towards me. The guard ignored Amresh, dismissing him as a threat. The old man stuck out a foot and tripped him. I raised my blade and chopped it down onto the guard's head before he could rise.

Snow whipped around us, thin at first but rapidly thickening. I could hear raised voices from the camp. None aimed at us, simply men unused to the cold and the storms of this land. I kept my sword out as Amresh and I advanced into the camp. The wind strengthened suddenly and the blast of chill air tore the first tent from its stays. Men began to mill in panic as their vision became limited by swirling snow and failing light.

I knew Halerian would base himself at the centre of this camp, and led Amresh forward, as the storm became a truly evil thing. Snow now lay underfoot, deepening with every stride where it was not blown into drifts. Men of Halerian's legion struggled against the wind to reclaim their kit, some had been caught only partly dressed in their tents and these men were already falling victim to the bitter cold that engulfed them.

No one challenged us as we walked through camp. None thought to question how we could remain unaffected by the cold. The storm now brought snow as thick and heavy as a man's fist. Vision fell to paces, men stumbled as if shadows in a nightmare. I could hear screams, some in fear and some in pleading to the gods; and more and more I saw the slumped bodies of legionnaires who had succumbed to the cold and would rise no more.

Amresh touched my arm.

‘There,' he said, pointing towards the torn remains of a large tent.

We went past the frozen body of a guard, his features already wreathed in ice. There was nowhere to shelter, and now even I was feeling the numbing bite of the wind as the storm overcame Amresh's ward. I saw the figures, half sheltering in the lee of an overturned table. Halerian and Shilo, swaddled in furs, huddling together to share warmth.

It was the Numibian who saw me first. He rose slowly on legs and a body made numb by the freezing atmosphere. He drew his sword and stepped towards me through snow that was close to knee deep. The cold made him slow, and as he thrust the sword point at me I stepped aside and brought my own weapon down hard on his outstretched arm. His anguished cry briefly silenced the storm. His sword, and the hand that held it, fell to the ground. Blood pulsed from his arm, spraying the snow red. As Shilo clutched at the stump I drove the point into his stomach, twisting the blade as I removed it. The Numibian's dark eyes widened in horror, before he fell in death. Before I had even turned to face his master, the storm covered Shilo's body in a blanket of snow.

Halerian stood and took a half pace back, bracing himself against the drifts around his legs. He swung his sword as I advanced, and I met it with a counter blow of my own. The blades rang together, and Halerian's shattered into a hundred pieces. He looked in horror at the remains of his weapon, then threw the hilt away as he turned to flee. I followed him into the grey-white world that only we seemed to inhabit. He went only a dozen paces before stopping and turning to face me. His lips were blue and the vapour of his breath seemed to turn to ice as he exhaled. The cold intensified around us, eating into my skin, penetrating to my bones in a way I had never experienced before. Halerian groaned at the agony of it. I considered my sword briefly, and then sheathed it. His eyes watched me approach. I put my hand to his chest and pushed. Unresisting, Halerian fell backwards. He lay still for a moment, as his own blanket of snow swept over him. Then his arm rose in one last effort, fingers curling until one pointed at me. I saw his lips move to curse me, instead they splintered apart and blood spilled out to freeze like rubies upon his chin.

I stood, unmoving, the storm battering me, and would have remained there forever had Amresh not pulled my arm and dragged me away from that scene. We struggled through snow now thigh deep until my companion paused to remove his glove. He cut his thumb, as before, and spilled a drop of blood onto the snow. His gesture told me to do the same. My skin seemed to freeze on exposure to the air, joints becoming instantly stiff. Amresh squeezed at the incision in my thumb. The moment my blood fell to the snow the wind changed direction. The blizzard swept out to sea, leaving us behind. Amresh and I stood and watched as the retreating storm lifted as if it were the veil from a bride.

The encampment no longer existed. What the wind had not destroyed the snowfall had covered. Here and there were small mounds, perhaps signifying stores or clusters of bodies. The clouds were breaking apart now, and the sky regained its unbroken blue. I felt with relief the air temperature around us rise. My companion released his pack, and from within it removed two pairs of snowshoes. After strapping them on we walked the short distance to a headland overlooking the bay where Halerian's legion had landed. The destruction here was, if anything, more terrifying.

The storm had struck the transport ships as troops were being ferried ashore. The ferryboats had been swamped and sunk, the troops drowning or freezing in the sea. Of the transports, two had been blown out of the bay onto rocks, hulls shattered they now lay submerged. Two more had been pushed together, the impact breaking the backs of both vessels, these had sunk like stones until only their masts signaled where they lay. The fifth transport had simply overturned; we looked down upon its hull, covered in barnacles and weed. Above us two black-winged gulls cried their delight at the carrion they saw in the bay; and in the water, I saw the first smooth movement of an exploring orca. Food would be plentiful in the next few days for the creatures that lived in and around the sea.

Amresh turned, without another word, and began the trek back to our town. I took one last look at what had once been a legion camp. I fancied, in the bright glare of reflected sunlight, that I saw Halerian's hand, still upraised and accusing, thrusting from the smooth surface of the snow. He should have listened to my words and understood their deeper meaning. Halerian had come representing the power of the Emperor and the Senate. I had lived here for many years and knew, without doubt, that there was a greater power in the world, one that I little understood but greatly respected. Now a new Empire was growing, one that stretched from the northern ice sheets where the great white bears roamed south to the giant pine forest; and to the west, where men of my legion and Amresh's tribe sought a path through the high mountain ranges to discover whatever hidden lands lay beyond.

I turned, and followed my Emperor through the snow.

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