Chapter 37.2

Eirwen looked around the room, a needless act as her senses already allowed her to observe everyone. Her gaze still made others look away in shame. They had been wrong about the Duke, considering him a hero while he had never cared for them. And the fact that Aodhán had killed his father after her life had been threatened, meant that to call him a traitor for it was to say her life didn't matter.

Before any of them could gather the resolve to respond, images appeared once more. The sound of battle as Red, clearly dressed in mountain garb, took a knife to his side. His skin glowed crimson, trapping the blade with his version of the Carraig Defence. Ignoring the weapon, he cut one throat, then another, before finally turning on the person that had stabbed him. As he looked around, he stumbled, his arm caught by Fang who kept him on his feet.

The image faded and eyes shot towards Fang, who was as surprised as they were, though she clearly recognised the memory. Their surroundings changed again, showing a snowy mountain scene. Somehow, they could see far and wide, the image replacing the real walls for the sight of a large battle. Near them, people fought wolves. A bit removed, Red stood as a giant, surrounded by half a dozen Frost Giants, with several more already dead. He fought like a beast, snarling as their blades and clubs smashed into him and drew blood. The day he had become the Crimson Giant.

Another fade, and now they stood in Carraig territory. The first day of the war. The sounds were more muted, his primary focus on the images. Even then, the angry shouts were clear as dozens of Verglas troops threw themselves against the shields of Aodhán's personal guard, while he shouted commands as he fought.

The next scene had him standing in front of a kneeling opponent. Siress Nantgate, her sword arm dislocated, her other clutching a wound on her side as Aodhán held a Verglassed blade against her throat, his eyes looking at his guard fighting others. The image faded and Eirwen noticed several folks glancing at the real Nantgate. Another memory, no more sounds, the one he had shown her of the battle where he had answered a trap. Just the part where he took all those spears and immediately took several out.

Now he stood in front of eight men tied to poles. She recognised their faces. The men that had come for her and had killed peasants and servants, then had run away from her. While he shared no sound still, they still saw the rage on his face as he shouted at his troops. In turn, they all knelt before him. One of the prisoners shouted and he turned and cut off the man's head. As he proceeded executing the others too, the image faded once more.

Back in his father's private hall, the Duke's body still on the floor. He walked past it to his father's throne, then turned and sat down. The nobles were now fully in focus. Ailbe knelt first, soon followed by the others and the guards. The moment he had become the seventh Duke.

Eirwen's throne hall appeared, all knights mere faint figures, just him and her in full focus. And his father's head, with his ancestral greatsword already piercing it. He snapped the sword, a sound she could hear even if he still wasn't sharing any, then stepped forward and drew Crimson. When he got on one knee and offered her the sword, as well as his neck, she could hear several shocked exhales.

The spar at the training grounds, at the last part of the fight where he was knocking people out, until suddenly daggers appeared. His next hits were crippling, matching what Caerbychan had described to her. Then him in her carriage, her looking out, his eyes cast down. Ah, had she really been smiling gently back then?

Her riding through the streets of Leathad Den Ghrian, her eyes burning with rage, her skin glowing ice blue. Her arrival at the Flameheart estate, where the guards had all knelt and bowed. The spar in the throne hall, showing the moment that both had hit the other's weapon aside and she had headbutted him. The moment where he had fought the corrupted mages and their accomplices, throwing around flames as he beat people aside. His duel with her and Aoife, where he smiled as two swords rested in his neck.

His focus had shifted from himself to her images, meant to lift her up. Their fight against the wolf pack. While all kills were visible, the centre of attention was Eirwen cutting off the head of her opponent. Next, their first fight against giants, showing her dashing around the battlefield, culminating in her cutting through the giant's neck. The second and third fight, clearly showing that Eirwen was cautious but quick. The fourth, where it had taken her but four strikes to kill her opponent.

The next image was fuzzy, for a lack of a better word. Her on horseback, frantically speeding through the terrain. She was shocked to know he had managed to keep an eye on her from that distance, though it was clear he had only barely observed her and nothing else. She threw her javelin and his eyes followed it, showing the distance it flew before it took down the fleeing wolf.

Next, her in position in the frontline against the bandits. The leader looking up, this time sound present again as he told Red to be reasonable. They could see how fast Red had moved as he cut the man in two, then launched himself at others, as did Eirwen. With that, the image faded once more, this time without being replaced.

Eirwen looked at Red, his breath laboured. Even with the help of the crystal, and with all of this prepared in advance, it still had cost him a lot. Yet his voice was fully steady and emotionless as he looked at Giuthas. "Any other questions?"

The man gulped and his knees buckled, but his comrades caught him and held him on his feet. Ah, he had almost knelt by instinct. He shook his head, face pale. "No more."

Red nodded to Eirwen as he handed the memory crystal back to Bethan. She nodded in turn then faced the crowd. New respect clearly visible on their faces. His memories had made very clear she was far from the damsel in distress that some might have mistaken her for. As he had said, he had shown them their rulers. All three of them.

"Bring in the map." Behind her, the doors to the private room opened and her remaining people came in, carrying the table with the relief on top of it. Once they had positioned it in the middle of the room, they withdrew once more. She gave the crowd some time to observe the map, recognising the terrain, while Bethan handed her the memory crystal.

"As you know, this reproduction of the local terrain was made with the help of many people their memories. Towns, roads, villages. But also encounters with Frost Giants. And what we heard this way, matched our suspicions. There is something afoot within these mountains. Something subtle, not easily noticed by those living here day by day, but easier to recognise for those that haven't been around during the war."

She looked at Blacktree. "The market prices are up, and that is understandable, what with the influx of people escaping my reach. But they're also up for things that these newcomers wouldn't have such a great impact on. Clothing, simple food, houses for the common people. A change that has been going on for years now, which has gone unnoticed due to the ripples of the war."

She waved at the map and images appeared. Blue dots at tactical positions at the main road, but also other supply roads. "For years, the Frost Giants have observed the main road, only attacking larger groups or ones with precious cargo. People found a balance, groups large enough to defend themselves, but small enough to not attract too many attacks. But there's more to it. Some of their groups observe from a great distance, outside the normal reach of our senses. Waiting, analysing, reporting."

Four blue dots shone bright. "We carried snowplum pits and they came for us. Four groups, all waiting to see if anything tempted them to no longer hold position. The last in deliberate wait for us. They communicate. They wait. And sometimes, they defy orders and get greedy."

Ah, now they realised where she was going with this. "Over the years, their surveillance has increased. Grown closer. Here is where they were most oft reported four years ago." Some places glowed bright. "Here's three." More. "Two." They spread out more, getting closer to Bealach na Caisteal. "The past year." Getting close to an encirclement. "And it gets worse. Because these are the villages that they attacked, ones that weren't important enough for them to normally handle."

Again, she showed what happened over the years. And again, they could see that the attacks got closer. "That's why food production is down. Why clothing and houses are running out. Because they're slowly increasing the pressure. Trying to figure out how the people respond, causing fear without giving their secrets away. Verifying that their biggest threat, the Flamehearts, are truly gone."

Eirwen saw several of them shiver. They didn't want to believe this, but it sounded too real to just blindly deny. She gestured at Red, who put four objects down, which looked like a sequence. "You'll recognise the first two of these. Snowplum pits. The first a simple one. The second one far more processed, rare. The fourth object is a mana stone. And the third is a pit that Red has been drawing ambient mana into for the past week. As you can see, it quite resembles a mana stone."

She gave Red a nod, who took over the presentation. "You may recall that while Dire Wolves and Frost Giants exist elsewhere, they're smaller than in these mountains. I long wondered why. In these, I found the answer." He took the second and third pit, showing their differences for all to see.

"Snowplums filter mana, but there's a limit to what they can take. Eventually, they break and the pits begin to fall apart. But I managed to push one further, turning it into a rough mana stone. If I had had more time, I might have been able to turn it into a proper one. And I know this. The wolves and giants consume these. Not too many, but occasionally. And they defend them, treat them as part of their territory. Hunt those that take them away."

He looked at them, one after the other, as he spoke. "I believe that consuming snowplum pits helps them grow. Excess won't help, but as long as they steadily consume them, they steadily will keep growing. That is why the older wolves and giants are always larger than the young. And that raises the question, what happens if a giant simply doesn't die?"

He waved at the map, different lights appearing, coming and going in waves. "Every few decades, the Frost Giants start behaving weirdly. Put pressure on people, require culling. They defy their instincts. My theory there is simple. They have a ruler, who is using them as sacrifices to figure out if we can still stand against him. And right now, he's started again. We already see too many villages being destroyed. If we're right, more will follow soon."

Eirwen took the word. "That is why you're here. Because I believe that soon, they will come again. And to prevent this from happening after I leave, I need to lure them out first. For this, I will need your help."