The air was heavy, dry with frost, and all sound appeared to echo unnaturally over the vast expanse of snow.
"Hey! Heeey!"
"Yaaaaaaaah!"
"Whoooooo!"
The shouts broke into the stillness, barbaric voices erupting in a scream of madness. They were not cries of civilized men but the howls of savages, raw and guttural, tempered by the snarl of animals.
Kael's frame stiffened against Valkar's breast. The scream crept down his spine like icy talons, each shriek echoing with the promise of hurt. He could hear men screaming and strange, inhuman growls—bestial screams echoing with need and hunger.
And they were coming.
The ground thudded dully under, shaking waves advancing with the pulse of thundering hooves and creaking timbers. In the next moment, the ragged line of wagons burst into view, careening across the frozen terrain. They did not slow until they nearly crashed down on them, and with a harsh jolt of brakes, the caravan stopped.
