-1-
Gruum and Therian returned to Corium with Nadja in the spring. It had been an arduous journey. Gruum reflected that an unfortunate number of people had died to get them back to the silver towers of Therian’s palace—some innocent and some not. They had lost the Innsmouth in Kem, the ship having been confiscated by unfriendly locals. Chased overland northward for a hundred leagues, they’d come to another pirate’s den named Port Thaup. There they were able to secure passage out onto the open sea. After a few deadly detours, they’d managed to reach the island kingdom of Hyborea. The final leg of the trip involved hiking across the ice shelf that now surrounded the island completely in the winter months. Arriving at last at the gates of Corium, Gruum was surprised to see little fanfare. None of the citizenry seemed glad to witness their grim King’s return.
Gruum eyed the wretches that huddled inside the great walls of Corium as they passed through the portal. They were thin, even for Hyboreans. Their pale skins were ice-blue and they looked even colder than they usually did. Snow covered everything and everyone, as ubiquitous as sand coating a desert. Snow had to be shoveled over the walls and melted with unnatural fires every morning just so people could walk the streets unhindered.
“What are you thinking, Gruum?” Nadja asked him. She sat upon their sole surviving pony. Her pale fingers were wrapped into the pony’s blond mane.
Gruum startled. He led the pony by the bridle, and it puffed at him as he turned around to see the girl’s face. Gruum opened his mouth, but did not answer her immediately. He had been staring at the people as they passed through the lower districts, thinking how hopeless they looked. Not even the sight of their long lost King walking by lifted their dismal spirits. Therian walked ahead, talking to his guardsmen of events missed during the last year. The King appeared to be distracted and out of earshot, but Gruum knew better than to tell the girl his true thoughts.
“I’m thinking of the fine, hot dinner we’ll have when we get to the palace,” he told Nadja, giving her a smile. He glanced down at her fingers, as he had a hundred times before on their long journey. The girl’s hands were pink and full of blood, despite the bitter cold. She never wore gloves, saying they irritated her. Gruum had never understood how she kept from freezing.
“Hmph,” Nadja said, “Dinner? I’m not thinking of that at all. I’m thinking of the games father has told me of.”
Gruum forced his smile to freeze on his face. He nodded encouragingly. Nadja was too young, in his opinion, to witness the blood sports the Hyboreans so reveled in. The games turned his stomach at times, especially when he felt sorry for those sentenced to participate for one minor infraction or another. He had to remind himself, not for the first time, that he was not Nadja’s father.
Therian turned and glanced back at Gruum and the girl. His daughter responded by waggling her bare fingers at him. Then she shoved her hands back into the horse’s snow-crusted mane.
Therian returned to his hushed conversation with the guardsmen. He did not acknowledge his daughter’s wave.
-2-
By nightfall they had reached the palace and Gruum headed down to the lowest levels of the south side. He paid two silver pieces and gratefully sank into his first hot bath in months. The tub itself was a natural one, a large, stone cavity filled with bubbling water. The cavity was almost big enough to swim within. Heated by infusions of sulfurous waters from deep beneath the earth, the baths of southern Corium were famed for their health-replenishing properties. Gruum didn’t know if they would heal his hurts, but the heat certainly felt good. It sank into his bones, which he believed had been permeated by frost all the way down to the marrow.
Dozing in the pool, Gruum nodded off momentarily. He immediately began to
Gruum and Therian returned to Corium with Nadja in the spring. It had been an arduous journey. Gruum reflected that an unfortunate number of people had died to get them back to the silver towers of Therian’s palace—some innocent and some not. They had lost the Innsmouth in Kem, the ship having been confiscated by unfriendly locals. Chased overland northward for a hundred leagues, they’d come to another pirate’s den named Port Thaup. There they were able to secure passage out onto the open sea. After a few deadly detours, they’d managed to reach the island kingdom of Hyborea. The final leg of the trip involved hiking across the ice shelf that now surrounded the island completely in the winter months. Arriving at last at the gates of Corium, Gruum was surprised to see little fanfare. None of the citizenry seemed glad to witness their grim King’s return.
Gruum eyed the wretches that huddled inside the great walls of Corium as they passed through the portal. They were thin, even for Hyboreans. Their pale skins were ice-blue and they looked even colder than they usually did. Snow covered everything and everyone, as ubiquitous as sand coating a desert. Snow had to be shoveled over the walls and melted with unnatural fires every morning just so people could walk the streets unhindered.
“What are you thinking, Gruum?” Nadja asked him. She sat upon their sole surviving pony. Her pale fingers were wrapped into the pony’s blond mane.
Gruum startled. He led the pony by the bridle, and it puffed at him as he turned around to see the girl’s face. Gruum opened his mouth, but did not answer her immediately. He had been staring at the people as they passed through the lower districts, thinking how hopeless they looked. Not even the sight of their long lost King walking by lifted their dismal spirits. Therian walked ahead, talking to his guardsmen of events missed during the last year. The King appeared to be distracted and out of earshot, but Gruum knew better than to tell the girl his true thoughts.
“I’m thinking of the fine, hot dinner we’ll have when we get to the palace,” he told Nadja, giving her a smile. He glanced down at her fingers, as he had a hundred times before on their long journey. The girl’s hands were pink and full of blood, despite the bitter cold. She never wore gloves, saying they irritated her. Gruum had never understood how she kept from freezing.
“Hmph,” Nadja said, “Dinner? I’m not thinking of that at all. I’m thinking of the games father has told me of.”
Gruum forced his smile to freeze on his face. He nodded encouragingly. Nadja was too young, in his opinion, to witness the blood sports the Hyboreans so reveled in. The games turned his stomach at times, especially when he felt sorry for those sentenced to participate for one minor infraction or another. He had to remind himself, not for the first time, that he was not Nadja’s father.
Therian turned and glanced back at Gruum and the girl. His daughter responded by waggling her bare fingers at him. Then she shoved her hands back into the horse’s snow-crusted mane.
Therian returned to his hushed conversation with the guardsmen. He did not acknowledge his daughter’s wave.
-2-
By nightfall they had reached the palace and Gruum headed down to the lowest levels of the south side. He paid two silver pieces and gratefully sank into his first hot bath in months. The tub itself was a natural one, a large, stone cavity filled with bubbling water. The cavity was almost big enough to swim within. Heated by infusions of sulfurous waters from deep beneath the earth, the baths of southern Corium were famed for their health-replenishing properties. Gruum didn’t know if they would heal his hurts, but the heat certainly felt good. It sank into his bones, which he believed had been permeated by frost all the way down to the marrow.
Dozing in the pool, Gruum nodded off momentarily. He immediately began to
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