The Snow Queen:Sacrifice

By: K. M. Shea

CHAPTER 1

ARRIVALS



The wind stung Farrin Graydim’s face and pushed some of his black-brown hair into his eyes, but he didn’t stir.

His regiment—the First Regiment, or as it was fondly called by Tenebris, the Fighting First—glittered like a sea of metal behind him in neat, orderly rows. They stood silent as they faced the snow-covered road that wove through a thick, untamed forest.

Dryden—one of the magic users under his command—stirred at his side.

“It’s freezing.” She pulled her cloak tight and brushed her button nose, red with the cold. “Bluff, can’t you do anything to warm it up?”

Bluff snorted. “Sure, if you can stop an avalanche.” He sneezed and rubbed his ears.

Farrin ignored the idle chit-chat and kept his gaze on the forest. The field of snow that stood between the woods and his men created a terrible glare that was difficult to see past.

“I hate this wretched country.” Dryden was hard to understand thanks to her chattering teeth. “Spring is just weeks away, and it’s as cold as it was in the dead of winter.”

Bunny snorted. She was the only one of their bunch who appeared untouched by the cold. She wore nothing more than a long-sleeved tunic, pants, and padded boots. “I think we have Princess Rakel to thank for that.”

Her observations pulled Farrin from his dutiful watch. Princess Rakel. How things will change for her when Tenebris arrives.

“Princess Rakel,” Dryden growled. “If I could get one minute alone with her—”

“She’d freeze you solid, and then you would complain even more,” Bluff said.

“She would not!” Dryden said. “I would get her before she could work her magic on me.”

“Would not,” Bluff said.

“Would too!”

“Would not!”

“Enough,” Farrin said. He cast a critical eye for his troops, searching for the slightest blemish or relaxed stance. They need to be perfect.

The magic users fell silent.

When the first few soldiers on horseback stepped toward them from the darkness of the forest, his fingers twitched as he automatically reached for his two-handed broadsword—which wasn’t there. Clever Rakel, he thought, recalling, with admiration and irritation, the way she’d swiped the weapon from him. He missed the sword like an amputated limb.

The mounted party emerged from the forest. Farrin shielded his eyes to make out the army insignia on the lead horse’s saddle blanket—there! He raised his arm in the air and shouted, “Salute!”

The First Regiment moved as one, raising their arms in respect as Tenebris Malus—the leader of the Allegiance of the Chosen Army—and his retinue rode across the barren, snowy field.

When he reached the edge of their forces, Tenebris dismounted.

“Tenebris!” Sunnira—one of Farrin’s healers and friends—broke ranks and ran up to the esteemed leader, throwing her arms around him.

Tenebris laughed as she attached herself to his arm. “You look well, Sunnira. I hope you have been taking care of my army.”

“Of course,” Sunnira said.

Tenebris patted her hands and passed off the reins of his horse to one of his companions. He stretched his neck and strolled towards Farrin—who hadn’t yet broken rank.

He held his salute. “Sir.”

“At ease, Farrin,” Tenebris said. He slapped him on the shoulder and offered him a wide smile. It was a happy one, Farrin was relieved to see. Tenebris smiled whether he was angry or pleased, but his smiles of rage always showed more of his teeth.

Tenebris Malus was a mysterious man. Though he was short and thin through the shoulders, he had a heavy aura of power. His face was bland but pleasant, and he almost always wore a helm or cap of some sort—though one could see strands of his gold-brown hair leaking out on occasion. His eyes were unusual, though. They were round like marbles, and their pupils were more disk-like than circular. They were gold in color, and hooded, which gave him a calculated air.

“Thank you, sir.” Farrin motioned for his regiment to drop the salute. They complied.

“Still as well organized as ever—and a sight for sore eyes. Kavon lets his mercenary troops run wild like savages.” Tenebris nodded once. “I cannot fault him. Those without magic are little more than animals—though it is good to see you have broken yours into submission.” He smiled again, and something in Farrin twitched at the harsh words.

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