Excerpt of The Cry of The Icemark by Stuart Hill
(Page 1 of 5)
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Thirrin Freer Strong-in-the-Arm Lindenshield carried her names with ease. She
was thirteen years old, tall for her age, and could ride her horse as well as
the best of her father's soldiers. She was also heir to the throne of the
Icemark. Her tutor might add that she was attentive when she wanted to be,
clever when she bothered to try, and had her father's temper. Few compared her
to her mother, who had died when Thirrin was born. But those who remembered the
proud young woman of the fierce Hypolitan people said that Thirrin was her
The soldier riding guard over her didn't care about any of this. They'd been
hunting in the forest since dawn and he was cold and tired, but Thirrin showed
no signs of wanting to go home. They were following a set of tracks she insisted
were werewolf prints, and the soldier was afraid she might be right. He'd
already eased the spears in his scabbard and had been riding with his shield on
his arm for the past hour.
Werewolves had been banished from the Icemark after the Ghost Wars, in which
Thirrin's father, King Redrought, had defeated the army of the Vampire King and
Queen at the Battle of the Wolfrocks. Probably the werewolf she was tracking was
just a loner in search of easy hunting in the cattle pastures, but you could
never be too careful. With any luck she could capture it, she thought, and take
it back to the city as a prize. And perhaps before it was executed it could be
made to give useful information about The-Land-of-the-Ghosts.
"Listen!" Thirrin said urgently, waking from a pleasant daydream about
winning her father's respect and gratitude. "Just ahead -- I can hear snarling!"
The soldier took her word for it and leveled his spear. "Pull in behind me,"
he said, forgetting all formality in the moment of danger.
But before they could move, the thick undergrowth that lined the path burst
open and a huge animal leaped out. It was vaguely man-shaped but extremely
hairy, and its face was a strange mixture of wolf and human. For a moment it
stared at them, its eyes full of hate, then it charged. It easily dodged the
soldier's clumsy thrust and headed straight for Thirrin, but her horse was
battle-trained and it leaped forward to meet the attack, lashing out with its
Taken by surprise, the werewolf took the full force of the kick, but it only
staggered back for a second before growling with fury and attacking again. By
this time, Thirrin had drawn her long cavalry saber and, in one fluid movement,
she wheeled her horse around, leaned from the saddle, and hacked deeply into the
werewolf's arm. The soldier had recovered by now and he charged, knocking the
werewolf off its feet. Before it could get up, both horses drew in shoulder to
shoulder, snorting fiercely and lashing out with their hooves. The creature
scrambled to its feet and retreated into the thick undergrowth where the horses
couldn't follow. For a moment it licked at its wounds with a long red tongue,
then it emerged from the thorny bush and without warning threw itself at
Thirrin's horse, knocking her from the saddle. Her charger blundered away,
screaming in terror, and she lay on the path dazed and badly winded. She seemed
to be watching a silent and tiny picture of the world from a point high above
the action. She was dizzily aware that there was danger of some sort, but what
it was exactly she couldn't quite remember. She watched as a soldier attacked a
huge wolfman, but the creature broke his spear and the soldier's horse reared
and galloped away as he clung on desperately. Now the wolfman was turning back
and walking slowly toward her.
Reality crashed back. The world filled her head to the brim again and with a
start she remembered where she was. The werewolf was approaching with slow,
deliberate steps as though it was enjoying the moment just before the kill, like
a cat with a helpless mouse within easy reach.
From The Cry of The Icemark by Stuart Hill, pages 1-11 of the hardcover edition. Copyright 2005 by Stuart Hill. Fist published in the United Kingdom by The Chicken House. Published in the USA by Scholastic Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book maybe reproduced without written permission from the publisher.