The next day the weather had dramatically shifted. The sun had peeked out from between the clouds, and though still cold, it was not the chill that felt like it would peel the skin from exposed limbs. Seeing the break, the convoy began to converge in the market square, making ready to move on.

“Alright, form up, keep it tight and make sure to cover each other’s flanks! We’ll be riding hard for the border, about three days’ worth of time. Minimal breaks, and we continue through the night as the road ahead is flat and firm.” Captain Kradden made his speech, and though most were aware of the need for haste, the thought of riding hard for that long would wear out both people and animals.

“The next stop is Fariven, the border city. If we hurry, we’ll make it just in time for the ice festival.” A young adjutant stood up and waved his arms to great cheer and laughter from the convoy.

“Alright, move out!”

The convoy made good time, and soon they were out on the wide open, snowy plains. Mariel sat on the bench and kept her eyes open for a frozen corpse. After a long while she gave up and resigned herself to the possibility that the girl had been swallowed by snow or slain by a wolf or other winter-adept creature.

“Seen anything yet?” Siravin asked her. Despite his neutral tone, she felt he was teasing her.

“No.”

“Good... Means she’s fine, wherever she is…”

“What do you…”

“You’ll see… Just stick close to me, and if we are attacked, keep your face visible…”

“Why?”

“Because, I did precisely the same thing our little runaway did once…”

The white seemed to stretch out beyond the horizon. What had begun as an unpleasant ride through the awfully bright snow had become tolerable with occasional overcast and the gradual increase in vegetation along the way. A few scattered trees and small hills broke the otherwise flat appearance of the surrounding areas. Overall, she spent her time on lookout, listening in on the nervous banter of the conscripts and watching a few scattered animals doing their very best to survive on the tundra-like landscape.

After a while of smooth going, the weather seemed to pick up. Frosty winds began blowing, and soon the sun seemed to disappear behind a thickening layer of cloud. The increasing sense of unease from the conscripts, was only increased by Ulwir standing up on the sleigh.

“Get ready children, I can smell it… This is unusual weather… This cold reek of murderous intent… Hey girlie! Move up ahead to the captain and inform him about this… Tell him I’m shoring up our tail end and preparing a defensive formation… Go!”

She nodded and leapt from the sleigh and began trudging through the snow towards the front of the column. The going was tough, and all the while she could hear Ulwir shouting orders and the scrambling of inexperienced soldiers. As she went, she could see it in the eyes of the conscripts and the drivers, they were frightened, and some had already drawn their weapons. The weather continued to worsen, and soon strong gusts of wind blanketed the surroundings in blinding snow.

“Captain!” Up ahead she could see a silhouette of a soldier and hear a steady stream of orders being shouted to everyone nearby. “Captain!”

“We’re under attack!” A voice shouted, and in the blink of an eye, the rider ahead of her was thrown off the horse, landing in the snow with a large metal spear buried in his chest. A few bloodied coughs, and the man died. The soldiers and conscripts alike began to form up, but the panic was evident. A bunch of conscripts had formed up and locked their shields. Out of the snow, a gout of fire appeared, gaining range from the favourable wind. The fire engulfed the soldiers and turned them all into screaming torches. Several more rushed to help, but they were all cut down in moments in a hail of arrows. Out of the snow, appeared a silhouette, flanked on both sides by several more. A collective roar sent shivers down her spine as a large group of apparent soldiers charged them head on. The ambush soon devolved into a general melee, with only the trained part of the convoy putting up any sort of real resistance. The conscripts were cut down with deft swiftness. Some laid down their weapons and were immediately bludgeoned. Others were rallied by the veterans and put up some show of resistance before being cut down. From the other side of the main assault, another group began spreading out, attacking the apparent rear of the soldiers. She drew her sword and faced off against two masked opponents. They wore white clothes and blended well into the background. The first one on the left let out a roar and threw himself at her. She parried and made a swipe for his back, but her sword bounced off harmlessly. Beneath the white cover, she could see thick chainmail links which had absorbed her strike. She sidestepped just in time to avoid being cut in half by the other attacker. Around her, the battle was apparently starting to die out. A few ragged stragglers still fought on but were one by one forced to surrender or killed outright. She backed up against the cart slowly, keeping her guard up.

“Surrender. Or we will cut you down where you stand!”

She snarled, while keeping her eyes fixed on the two opponents before her.

Suddenly, she felt a blow to her head. As she fell over to her side, she saw the two close in on her before everything went dark.