FROST- Jotun Chronicles #1

Terms and Conditions

The leather reigns were probably making permanent marks on the palms of my hands, I was clutching them so tightly. We rode on for another five minutes until the forest began thinning ahead of us. Gradually the trail expanded, turning into a flat plain just before the mountains narrowed into the pass. This was it. This was where the battle would be fought. It was fitting, since it was an ugly stretch of land. Not the mountains around it, they were beautiful, but the plain itself was brown with winter, yellowed grass had withered in the cold, and piles of rocks and melting snow hemmed the sides, the leftovers from landslides perhaps.

King Surtr had reigned in his horse at the far end of the field, just before the pass. Obviously we had a better chance if the frost army could only come through a bit at a time. The army was slowly building behind him, the horses milling about, stretching out in a growing line as their riders directed them into place, the jingle of tack and the rumble of voices filling the air. The king gestured at me, indicating that I should take Sigurd to the right. I gave him a nod, guiding the horse a little ways down the field from him. The rebels were starting to collect behind me, sorting themselves out slowly, until I had a solid line of riders just behind me. The feeling of being exposed hit me suddenly, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the mountains, looking for any sign of movement from the pass.  Being in front was terrifying. I was supposed to lead these people into battle. The handle of my katana felt warm in my grip, and I took a deep, calming breath.

I skimmed the line of fire jotun, trying to spot Loki. Erik was suddenly at my elbow, his horse fidgeting impatiently. All the horses seemed restless and excited.

“Ready?” Erik’s voice was low.

“I think,” my voice was unsteady, “ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Remember. Find the Queen.”

I glanced over my shoulder, spotting Charlotte and the others directly behind me. A mixture of relief and horror made me feel weak. Charlotte didn’t belong in battle, she was too small, but in the same moment I felt comfort at seeing her familiar face. She looked so tiny on top of her huge horse, dressed in chainmail and a leather turnic that was the tiniest bit too big for her. The other girls sat much taller on their horses. Becca, Stacey and Margaret were ready for battle. They suited the chainmail, they looked excited and ready to go. Why didn’t I feel the same way? I backed Surtr up a bit and hissed at Charlotte,

"You should stay behind, fall back when we charge."

She looked at me indignantly, "i'll be fine."

"You haven't got any training with that," I protested, pointing the sword she had at her hip, "how are you supposed to..."

Charlotte inturupted me, eyes narrow, "I know you were destracted, but I've been pretty busy for the last few weeks too. Training with the fire jotun, and then with Davin."

"Oh," I faltered, not sure what to say. Why hadn't I noticed that Charlotte was getting battle training too? Had I been so wrapped up in myself that I hadn't noticed what my friend was doing?

"Don't worry, "Charlotte pursed her lips, looking away from me, "everyone else underestimates me too."

I just stared at her, not sure what to say. I didn't want her to go into battle, I was afraid she'd get hurt. Training or not, she was still much smaller then the rest of us. But obviously nothing I could say would make her turn back now. I finally turned back to the front without saying anything else.

“What now?” I said to Erik.

He shrugged, the motion looked like it took some effort in the heavy chainmail, “Now we wait.”