Daggers of Ice

Chapter 37

The Northern Lands.

Arianna.

The main hall of Arianna's castle shimmered with the light of thousands of torches which gave light to the celebrations beneath the high-vaulted roof.

Edmund felt his eyes drawn to Arianna, who sat at the head of the table, a few seats down from himself. She looked every bit the formidable Ice Queen, beautiful and deadly in equal measures. He could understand why those under her rule followed her with such fervour; she looked every part the woman who would lead them all to victory. Once more she wore a white gown, hemmed with the softest white fur he'd laid eyes upon; her emerald eyes glowing in her small face, her chocolate hair tumbling over her bare shoulders.

She was picking at the large platter of fruit before her, the fruit split into large chunks and wedges, the sweet slices of fruit bled their nectar onto white plates and caused her golden-brown fingertips and luscious lips to become stained with the sugary blood. Feeling his gaze, her dark eyes flitted up, her fingers curling around the goblet of wine. She lifted it to her lips, tilting her head back she downed the glass, the alcohol travelling through her lovely throat.

How he wished he could taste that wine on her lips as he had before.

And her eyes told him she wanted the same as her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips.

Easy conversation flowed around them, humorous stories of those who had passed. Before the impending battle, it was what they needed.

The tinkling of cutlery on a goblet rang throughout the hall and attention was drawn to Myriel Holly, who stood gracefully from her position next to Arianna dressed in a stunning gown of deep crimson.

Silence fell as the dryad queen addressed them.

"My friend-allies," she spoke loudly and clearly. "Our comrade-friend-sisters have not fallen in vain! Their death-ends doth give us strength to fight, for thine enemies shalt now face the steel of thine blades with fear in their hearts, knowing that they hath hurt thee! They shalt pay for the lives they hath taken!"

A drunken roar met her words as they downed the contents of their goblets once more. Edmund felt his vision blurring as the bitter alcohol flowed down his throat, the wine taking hold. But he saw Arianna stand beside their ally, her gaze hard as she raised her silver goblet. There was a slight sway, but her eyes were clear as they swept the hall. "Drink, friends, drink to those who cannot drink for themselves!" A cheer. "They shall taste our fury as they look upon us, knowing their death falls upon them."

She drunk from her goblet, the red red wine dripping down the column of her neck. He felt his cheeks warming, the touch of her flesh imprinted in the whorls of his fingertips. Her grin was wild when she lifted her goblet once more. "Corradyn is mine!" her voice was a roar.

"Arianna! Arianna!" the chanting began as the wine flowed once more, the beating of the drum matching the voices of minotaur, dwarf, fae and dryad.

Determination blazed in her eyes.

...

Edmund.

"What is Lucy doing?" Susan's concerned voice drew his attention and looking upon his older sister he saw the fire in her eyes ablaze once more. But he followed her gaze to where Lucy sat with Faelar, her cheeks flushed, frowning.

"It is unnecessary," Faelar's cool voice drifted to them above the beginnings of a song, the happy tune wrapping over them. "To drown one's sorrows with the bitter taste of alcohol is a pointless tradition. We northmen commemorate life while the life is lived so we do not mourn death."