[CHAPTER 1] [CHAPTER 2] [CHAPTER 3] [CHAPTER 6]
[ZONE 1]

Immediately several additional notes echoed the first, passed on down the bend of the canyon while shadows began to appear along the length of the defile. Rising up from behind rocks and out of ditches, a dozen scattered men responded to the call to arms. Appearing at the mouth of a previously unnoticed cave, a fortyish looking gentleman lumbered down from his hiding and seeing that his guards weren't needed, he whistled for their dismissal.

FINN: Well, I didn't expect you to be back this way so soon, Seigneur. I actually wondered if you were going to make it anyplace at all, cut up like you were.

LOCKLEAR: Where's your company, Lieutenant Finn? Why aren't they standing standard guard on this pass?

FINN: With all due respect, Seigneur, we're digging ourselves out of a pretty mess presently. Not long after you and the moredhel trounced through here, a white screamer came up out of nowhere, worst snow storm I've seen in sixteen years. Ten miles on down the dell, the pass is buried under five feet of snow. I sent out guards to help our forward positions but I'm not positive they can do much. Kind of like lighting your pipe under the Bitter Sea.

LOCKLEAR: There's no way to get through the Inclindel at all?

FINN: Not unless you're a snow burrowing mole or a firedrake, no sir. Whoever may be in the Northlands or in the Kingdom, they've got a long wait on their hands if they need to get down this road.

LOCKLEAR: Well that's it then. We'll have to turn back. Take care, Lieutenant.

Working his way down from his cavernous command post, Finn shook his head as he pulled his furred helm down tight over his ears.

FINN: You must believe in miracles, Seigneur, but I'm afraid the weather isn't nearly so cooperative as that. The Inclindel is still frozen solid. Half my men have frostbite so bad its going to take three years to get the cold out of them.

LOCKLEAR: No getting through then.

FINN: No, sir. Sorry. You might try Cutter's Gap at Highcastle or perhaps Northwarden Pass.

LOCKLEAR: Damn these northern winters. I doubt we'll find any open routes to the north, but thanks for the suggestion. Take care of yourself, Lieutenant.

Working his way down from his cavernous command post, Finn shook his head as he pulled his furred helm down tight over his ears.

FINN: There's no getting through those snowdrifts out there. The Inclindel is blocked and it'll likely be spring before we can get through again.

JAMES: Thanks for the information, Lieutenant.

James's pulse quickened as he saw the lone figure approach; but when it became apparent they were not being attacked, he relaxed a bit, squinted slightly in an attempt to see who was about to join them.

FINN: There's no getting through those snowdrifts out there. The Inclindel is blocked and it'll likely be spring before we can get through.

JAMES: Once again, thanks for the information, Lieutenant.

James's pulse quickened as he saw the lone figure approach; but when it became apparent they were not being attacked, he relaxed a bit, squinted slightly in an attempt to see who was about to join them.

FINN: I don't know what you're doing here, Seigneur, but I don't think the Inclindel is a place any civilized folk want to be. Even the Hadati hillmen are bundling up and heading south towards Yabon and let me tell you something. It's a sure damn cold day when you get a Hadati thinking about a town for refuge.

JAMES: You must be Lieutenant Finn. Seigneur Locklear spoke highly of your garrison when he returned to Krondor. We were very sorry to hear about your commander's death.

FINN: It happens. We don't get too sentimental up here with our butts cheek out to the moredhel. Too easy to get your best friends killed so you don't get to be best friends. Of course, we depend on each other to protect one another but...not much beyond that. I don't think you came all this way to tell me that you were sorry about our commander. What do you need, Seigneur?

JAMES: We were thinking of heading North...

FINN: Not through there, you aren't. Even with the snow starting to melt off, the damn moredhel set off some kind of explosion. Brought down half a mountain of rock and it'll take us some time to get through it.

JAMES: You say set off. Were they using naphtha in there?

FINN: Very probably. Must of had packs of the stuff planted in the rocks, set up to slap us if we came down the pass. I think someone on their side got jittery when we were poking around. Whatever the case may be, no one's going either way for a little while.

JAMES: Thanks for the information, Lieutenant.

James's pulse quickened as he saw the lone figure approach; but when it became apparent they were not being attacked, he relaxed a bit, squinted slightly in an attempt to see who was about to join them.

FINN: I hope you aren't planning on going through here, Seigneur, 'cuz the Inclindel's still plugged tighter than a jug.

JAMES: I was afraid of that. Thanks, Lieutenant.

Gorath's pulse quickened as he saw the lone figure approach; but when it became apparent they were not being attacked, he relaxed a bit, squinted slightly in an attempt to see who was about to join them.

FINN: What are you two doing back up here again? Prince Arutha sending you on another secret mission?

OWYN: Of a sort... We're looking for a book that was lost...

FINN: Well, just between us, don't you think this would be a damn peculiar place to find a book? It's not like any of us ever get the opportunity to sit still long enough to read a book, and as far as the moredhel go... I don't think that stealing books would be very high on their list of priorities.

OWYN: Is the Inclindel passable?

FINN: Either you two are gluttons for punishment or just down right thick... No, the Inclindel isn't open. A few weeks ago, they blasted it shut again. Personally, I think we should leave the damn thing closed, but our orders are our orders, so my men have started picking things up again. I don't know why King Lyam is so bent on keeping the passage open to Armengar, but then again, I don't suppose it's my place to wonder why.

OWYN: Thanks for your information, Lieutenant Finn.

Gorath's pulse quickened as he saw the lone figure approach; but when it became apparent they were not being attacked, he relaxed a bit, squinted slightly in an attempt to see who was about to join them.

FINN: The Inclindel is closed...hear me...CLOSED. That means you and your moredhel friend here are going to have to find another way North if you're so all fired bent on going there.

OWYN: We should be on our way again. Thank you for your time, Finn.