Heart of Ice (The Snow Queen #1)(63)
Two crows flew overhead. Both of them cawed with surprise when the guards stationed on the second floor of the palace tried to shoot Rakel down. The shots fell short—making Frigid scoff—but Rakel was pleased. “That means we need to start right around here.” She tugged on the reins, getting Frigid to stop, and turned him in a circle.
Two days earlier, Snorri had gone through great pains to sketch out an exact diagram of the palace’s entrances and doors, so Rakel would know where to funnel the Verglas troops. She found the first door and placed in front of it a large block of ice—her version of a battering ram—that was almost as tall as a human and about half the width of the gate. She then built a tunnel on top of her glacier, spanning from the door to well past her position. She repeated the process with the other two doors—taking care to reinforce them when necessary—then struggled to unhook a goat horn from Frigid’s saddle.
The horn was cut into a musical instrument—which Knut had played beautifully when he showed her how to use it. Unfortunately, Rakel did not possess even a snowflake of musical talent, so when she blew it, it sounded less like an instrument, and more like the squalling of a baby goat, separated from its mother.
The sound—though terrible—still had the desired effect. It brought the Verglas troops—split up and hidden in thatches of forest—pouring onto the newly created glacier.
The soldiers moved in unison—reminding Rakel of a snowstorm—and marched down the tunnels. She waited until they were in place, and then slammed her battering-ram ice blocks into the doors, breaking them off their hinges and sending them careening into the palace. She waited, listening for the first sounds of combat. Three different notes were blown on the musical goat horns, and the troops cheered.
Rakel smiled broadly.
General Halvor had predicted that Farrin would organize his troops in anticipation of another forced entrance provided by Rakel. If he had the space, he would in all likelihood position soldiers armed with bows in the hallways she had just broken into. Instead of risking swordsmen—whom she could flatten when she used her ice blocks to ram the doors down—his archers would stand far from the door, out of her eyesight and out of reach of the first wave of Verglas soldiers. As the Verglas troops would lack cover of any kind, the Chosen archers would cleave through the front lines.
Tollak—the magic user who could enchant crafted objects—had become the hero of the hour and run himself ragged enchanting shields for the Verglas troops that led the charge into the palace. The shields were lightweight—lighter than the average shield—and could repel just about any kind of weapon—including arrows and crossbow bolts.
In every group, the first few soldiers and the line behind them possessed the shields. They held them aloft and interlocked, and moved in synchronized steps so they could block the arrows for everyone behind them without getting hit, giving them the opportunity to reach the archers and engage them in combat.
“It seems like people fuss most over the amount of magical power you have, but I think too many underestimate the seemingly innocuous magics as well. Tollak could make a fortune if he so desired,” Rakel said to herself. She nudged Frigid, and the reindeer trotted on, carrying her to the north side of the palace.
“Princess,” Snorri said, emerging from the shadows of the forest that pressed near the back of the palace.
“Which spot is it?” she asked.
When scouting, Snorri had found several appropriate locations for Liv and Rakel to attack Farrin. They waited to choose until the day of the battle, so they would be able to see which area had the fewest guards.
Snorri replied with his usual mumble.
“Snorri…”
“The empty water towers for watering produce in the eastern gardens. Liv is seeing them filled right now and will begin purifying immediately.”
“Is everyone else in place?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Snorri. Good luck.”
“To you as well, Princess.” He left, disappearing into the shadows.
Rakel nudged Frigid, but the reindeer didn’t move, so she kicked him. He lurched into motion, carrying her so she could continue her inspection of the northern side of the palace.
Rakel had three roles assigned to her by General Halvor: Get the troops in; distract the enemy mages, drawing them away from the regular soldiers; and take out Farrin.
With the first task finished, and Liv preparing for Farrin, the next step was to lure out the Chosen magic users. Oskar had warned her to complete this while doing as little damage to the palace as possible. It wouldn’t do to win the battle by razing it to the ground. Although the Chosen army had practically demolished it already, Steinar was somewhere in the building.
Such a plan might have made Rakel’s attention-gathering mission more difficult, but while she knew next to nothing of the capital, there was one feature of the palace grounds with which she was intimately acquainted. And she knew it would be considered expendable.
A crow cawed as Rakel set her sights on a lone tower built behind the palace—her childhood prison. It would be empty, as no one would dare use it for anything with all the deeply held suspicions about magic.
Rakel’s throat almost closed at the sight of the structure, but she slid off Frigid’s back—barely noticing when the reindeer wandered towards the forest, digging at buried grasses. I’m going to enjoy this.