Chapter 137: The Threshold of the Abyss
"You saw with your own eyes how he wiped out the Blackskull tribe," said Mark, leaning in with urgency. "Think about it, Krag. It is our chance to never depend on anyone ever again, and it is slipping right through our fingers."
Krag did not answer Mark’s words right away. He simply watched the last of Lennis’s carts disappear behind the snowy cliffs, feeling the weight of his companion’s words press upon his chest like a stone slab.
The night before, the tension in his private quarters had reached its breaking point. After arguing bitterly over the fortress’s future, Krag’s wife had cornered him against the wooden wall, glaring at him with a relentless fury he had never seen in her before. She had promised him, without the slightest hint of hesitation in her voice, that if he dared to betray the Great Shaman or break his faith with the Bear God, she would abandon him. Furthermore, she swore she would slit his throat in his sleep before allowing him to drag his family and lineage into curse and ruin.
With a dry throat from the memory of that threat, Krag recalled how he had ended up drinking alone under the cold moonlight. Mark had been feeding that snake for weeks, whispering ideas about becoming the sole sovereign of the north, leaving behind the age of gods, and using the shaman’s own technology against him to claim absolute dominion.
Yet, despite the burn of ambition Mark tried to kindle in his blood, Krag’s terror was vastly greater.
"It would not be enough, Mark," said Krag, breaking the silence with a hoarse voice as he turned to face his companion. "You are a fool if you believe a few iron tubes can stop a man who walks among shadows and commands life and death."
Mark knitted his brow, tightening his grip on his battle axe.
"It is steel and fire, Krag!" said Mark, taking a step toward him. "It is the very force with which he intends to dominate the north!"
"And what if he has something superior hidden away?" said Krag, pointing a firm finger at him as his eyes filled with genuine fear. "Do you think that boy has shown us all his power? What if these weapons are nothing more than a toy to him and he keeps a punishment ten times worse in his chamber? If we try to steal them and fail, our heads won’t just end up on pikes; we will be the laughingstock of the mountains before he erases us from the earth. I will not risk my neck for your fantasies of greatness."
"You might not... but I will," said Mark, spitting onto the snow as he turned around with his eyes blazing in rage.
Mark broke into a run toward the snowy hills, where all the former nobles and their families were already waiting for him in secret. This was their single opportunity to reclaim control over their fate. Lennis was traveling down the pass with a mere four veteran hunters for escort. Even though Mark and his men lacked the bear god’s blessing, their numerical superiority was overwhelming, and they were confident in subduing the caravan before it reached the main valley.
Since Lennis’s cart had already vanished beyond the ravine’s bends, Mark and his rebels quickened their pace, taking advantage of traveling light without extra cargo.
Meanwhile, along the snowy trail, Lennis scanned the rocky slopes around them with growing unease.
"Do you think they will pursue us?" said Lennis, tightening his cloak straps as he leaned toward the master blacksmith.
"It is certain" said Garik, his voice steady yet his hand firm on his axe’s haft. "I have already distributed the finished weapons among our group. We have four veteran hunters and twelve young apprentices hauling the carts; every single one of them carries a loaded rifle on his back. If the worst comes, we will annihilate them while someone runs to call for reinforcements from the village. When the shaman comes, they will have nowhere left to run in this land."
The four primary hunters wielded their traditional axes with pride; they hadn’t practiced much with the new firearms. The young apprentices, on the other hand, using the excuse of testing and refining the mechanism back at the forge, had followed to the letter the training method Kellar left recorded in the scrolls. Thanks to that daily discipline, they were capable of reloading and firing a round every forty seconds.
"We are ready," said Garik, peering into the ravine’s gloom. "If they dare draw near, they will not return."
"Good, then tonight we do not sleep," said Lennis, staring ahead with resolve. "Keep advancing; every meter we gain toward the village is one less meter to fear when reinforcements arrive. Dasley!"
"Tell me, boss," said Dasley, one of the fleetest young apprentices, stepping up.
"Run ahead at full speed," said Lennis, his face dead serious. "I have a bad feeling. Alert the shaman; if we wait until we are surrounded to call for help, we are dead. And listen up, everyone: put out the torches! Let us make it much harder for them to catch us in the dark. Spread out in a line and keep moving! Do not lose sight of the man in front of you!"
Dasley tightened the straps of his cloak and broke into a sprint down the snowy path, disappearing into the rocky gloom toward the main village. The caravan, plunged into darkness after extinguishing their torches, pushed forward at a forced march, keeping every sense sharp for the slightest crunch in the snow.
After several hours of tense marching in the absolute cold, one of the veteran hunters stopped dead in his tracks, sniffing the freezing wind sweeping down from the cliffs.
"They are here!" said the hunter. "Abandon the carts in the middle of the trail! Take cover among the trees along the sides! We will haul the carts a bit further ahead... Prepare to ambush them."
"Are you sure, Thorin?" said Lennis, holding his breath as he gripped his metal and wooden frame.
"Completely," said Thorin, a fierce grin forming on his hardened face. "I can smell the foul grease of those rats from a mile away."
The twelve young apprentices fanned out in silence along the tree line, loading their rifles in the gloom while the hunters pushed forward a few meters with the carts, ready to act as bait and unleash the first rain of fire upon Mark’s rebels.