Ice Blink

18: Masked One

Mortu was closer than they thought. The foolish Inua. Did they think letting one person keep watch throughout the night would keep them safe from Mortu? Or from the masked one?

Their camp was quiet and dark, the fire little more than slumbering embers shining between gaps in the wooden structure, and their sleeping forms did not stir as the masked one slunk through snow, a spirit on the wind, a thief in the night.

He hated this area, so tightly controlled by Illulik, so far from home. He gazed out at the vast expanse of silver and blue tundra, envisioning Mortu's fortress rising out of the flat plains. He would see it again soon. If he completed my mission with no distractions, he could return.

He moved in a spiral away from their camp, sorting through the things he had overheard, pinpointing the weaknesses which would bring them down. Yes, Mortu had ordered them to sack Illulik, but did they really believe he moved only in broad, sweeping strokes? They underestimated him more than he'd thought if they were this careless.

He pulled his wooden mask on, letting it snap over his face, its edges resting against skin. It felt right.

Without warning, the snow around him exploded.

A weight landed on his chest, driving him to the ground, and a point pricked his neck, but he rolled with the momentum. Refusing to make a sound, he drove his attacker into the ground beneath her and although he knew who it was, he delivered a sharp blow to the ribs for good measure. A muffled grunt sounded.

He pressed harder. "Don't you know you're supposed to attack silently, lest you wake our enemies?" It was a murmur, barely an exhale. "You two can drop your weapons," he added.

The others who had rushed to help his opponent halted.

"You're doing worse than I thought if this is how you're working together nowadays."

"Shut it, Crow. We didn't realise it was you. All we saw was a figure heading our way." With surprising brute force, his opponent heaved him off him and got up. The Crow could see the fire in his eyes through his mask's eye sockets, and he pulled it off to bare his ragged, rough face. Exposure to blizzards had carved furrows into his skin.

The Crow sighed. "I'd prefer it if you left the mask on throughout these meetings, Viggo."

"Watch it. You may be Mortu's golden boy, but I haven't forgotten how you challenged my orders when we sacked Nualik."

"Mortu –"

"Didn't put you in charge of my operations," Viggo interrupted loudly. He loomed over the Crow, but he was confident he would be able to beat him in a fight. Although tonight he was outnumbered. "What's wrong? Following a ragged band of wanderers too difficult for you?"

"You obviously thought they'd be dangerous if you decided to bring two lackeys with you."

Viggo's men stood to attention, but he knew they were taking in every word. Rumours of their disagreement would spread.

"Status update," Viggo ordered.

"And here I was, thinking we were going to settle in for a nice little chat. Didn't you bring tea?"

"Spirits above, get on with it, Crow. Our bones are freezing out here."

"They're Illulik's survivors, on their way to stop us, or so they think. I haven't had chance to learn more, but I can safely assume they're going to follow in Mortu's footsteps and look for areas of high spiritual activity."

"They have a lot of distance to cover. They'll be dead before they finish that journey."

He wasn't convinced, but he held his tongue. "Where have you taken the Nualik Tribe?"

"We're on our way to Nuuvivak's prison compound. We took reindeer and rode ahead to meet you, but the others are making good progress."

"Any fighters?" He couldn't see their steeds, and assumed they'd left them a safe distance away.

"A few, nothing we couldn't handle. A couple have died from exposure, but that was to be expected."

"As long as none of them escape. Get them to the compound before you suffer more losses and keep them under control."

"Repeating Mortu's words as your own orders won't get you anywhere, Crow. I wonder... Why are you even here? Why did he instruct you to tail them? Surely he doesn't think they're a threat."

All three began to circle him slowly, prowling like wolves. He stood stiffly, refusing to give them the satisfaction of turning his head to follow their progress. His skin tingled as he pinpointed their footsteps, where they'd be if they lunged now, how far he'd have to move to avoid their blades. It had always been this way between he and Viggo.

"If Mortu doesn't deign to inform you of his innermost plans, I cannot help you."

"You've spent so long in Illulik, I'm beginning to wonder if you haven't turned on us. Where do your loyalties really lie?"

How dare he. "If I'd turned, you'd be dead by now. You know me better than that."

Viggo snapped his fingers and his lackeys stopped circling, moving to flank him. He dragged his mask back on. "Pity that girl got away, the one you apprehended when she foolishly tried to stop her friend. Are you sure you didn't mortally wound her? You had a blade on her neck before the tribespeople fought back."

"I do not know what happened to her. The big warrior sent her away from the group, it's not my problem, but if Mortu hears of escaped tribespeople, they'll be a reckoning."

"She's Mid-Ice, clueless. How much trouble could she be?"

Quite a bit, if she joins the Inua. But she was under his surveillance now, sleeping and vulnerable in the tooth-like building nearby. He could handle it without Viggo and earn more favour from Mortu. Their Sovereign chose the Crow's patience for a reason. "If that's all, I should be getting back to my station. I hope you reach Nuuvivak in one piece."

"Try not to get spotted or stabbed, Crow. If you do, there'll be an opening for position of Heir, and we both know who Mortu will choose."

Viggo could not have given him better motivation to succeed.

As he trudged back the way he had come to keep watch on the enemy camp, snow fluttered through the air, flakes settling on his shoulders. It would cover their tracks in moments, and by dawn no trace of the meeting would remain.

He had to resist a smile. Even the weather was on their side.