The storm’s wind drove snow like sharp gravel into Matthias’s face. He gripped the arm of the soldier beside him so tightly his knuckles turned white.
His black battle robe was soaked through, clinging cold against his skin, the chill seeping into his very bones.
Lifting his head, he could barely make out the vague outlines of the men around him in the white blur. The soldier who had been swept away earlier hadn’t even managed a cry before vanishing into the storm, his trace erased within seconds.
“Here!” Matthias shouted against the wind. He pulled the animal-skin package Batu had given him from inside his robe and clutched it to his chest. With his free hand he felt along the wall of ice until his palm struck a jagged outcrop. “There’s an ice cave here! We can shelter for a while!”
Hope surged through him as he waved the others forward.
The soldiers struggled toward him, leaning on one another for balance. Each step was a battle. Snow reached their thighs, and anyone who faltered sank deep, needing the pull of their companions to get free.
Kyle’s cloak had turned dark red where blood from his back wound seeped through, freezing into patches of black ice. His face was pale, but he clenched his teeth and pushed forward, never letting go of the soldier gripping his arm. From time to time, he shouted hoarsely at others to watch their footing.
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