Chapter 29 - The Battle of Five-Cairn Pass

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Njall's smile faded as the deep bass percussion of falling rocks echoed across the pass. Opposite him, the phalanx of stone golems opened to allow someone passage. From the ranks of garm, one beast howled. The whole pack then took up the call.

A diminutive woman dressed in peasant's clothes stepped through the front line and silenced the cacophony with a single raised hand. A murmur passed through the refugee army. Could it be that this was the great witch Katla? Many were skeptical. Her? She is the one terrorizing all the Folkland? I thought she'd be taller... Anja looked past the peasant clothes and into the fiery eyes of the witch. There, she could see the hidden strength and resolve. To Anja, there was no doubt. This woman was Katla.

Others were not so convinced. From next to Kiran stepped a tall and well-muscled farmer. He looked a man that could handle himself in combat. From just in front of the lines, the farmer yelled out.

"Katla! I am Renir of Hveragil! Do you see me? I need no army to face you! I do not fear you!" He pounded his chest with his fist. "Will you hide behind your army, or will you face me? Face me alone and find your death!"

Katla sighed. With a casual flick of her wrist the gently puffing cone of cinders on the left flank shuttered in an explosion. A glowing red orb of molten rock launched forth. Renir of Hveragil stood, transfixed by the spectacle. By the time he realized the trajectory, it was too late. The molten boulder crashed into Renir's chest, igniting his clothes and extinguishing his life. The fighters on the front lines recoiled from the carnage as a rain of ash fell across the company.

Katla stepped forward, flanked on either side by large garms. "Please, stop. Do not advance further. There is no need for bloodshed."

"No bloodshed?" A man shouted. "You just murdered Renir!"

"Murder? No, obviously no," Katla said, her voice calm and stentorian. "All you here heard his challenge. He perished because of hubris. He dared to question my power, my complete authority over this realm."

"Acceptance of your authority over this realm will never happen," shouted Kiran. "When you emerge from under the ice, you bring death and destruction to the Folkland."

"This is not allowed," said Njall seriously.

Katla nodded in agreement. "Yes, it is regrettable that you are... inconvenienced so." Her eyes swept across the peasant army. Anja noticed a distinct lack of malice in Katla's words. True, she was still flippant and casual about the snuffing of Human life, but she did not appear baleful. "I cannot help the way that I am. With me come the fires. The difficulties you bear are not born of malicious intent. When you are hungry, do you wish the ptarmigan ill or do you just take what you need to survive?"

"That so different!" Njall said angrily. He did not appreciate being compared to a ptarmigan.

"Is it though? When you build your homes and your long boats... when you build your shields and spears, you rob the birds of their forage and their shelter. Do you give them even a moment's thought before throwing down their trees and crushing their nests underfoot?"

"You attacked us! You burned our homes. Destroyed our families!" shouted Anja. "Do not play the innocent."

"Throughout history, I have not attacked Humans but for when you try to put me back beneath the ice. I simply want to be free. Same as you!"

"Your freedom is not without consequence," countered Kiran. "It means garms on the prowl and golems in the heights. Whether you mean it or not, your freedom terrorizes all the Folkland. We cannot allow that. You must be stopped."

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