About The Frozen Citadel:
Kurval and his friend and fellow mercenary Tsabo are planning to take up service at the citadel of Harjula in the frozen north of the kingdom of Simola. But when they finally reach the citadel, they find it deserted, its inhabitants in the thrall of dark magic…
The new sword and sorcery adventure by two-time Hugo finalist Cora Buhlert and her occasional alter ego, 1930s pulp writer Richard Blakemore. This is a short story of 5900 words or approx. 22 print pages in the Kurval sword and sorcery series, but may be read as a standalone. Includes an introduction and afterword.
Excerpt:
The wan northern sun was steadily sinking, casting the frozen land in a fiery hue and promising a deadly night on the ice, when Kurval’s keen eyes at last did spot something on the horizon.
At first, it looked like a massive wall of ice rising from the frozen wasteland. But as Kurval and Tsabo came closer, they noticed a giant gate flanked by lanterns that glowed an eerie red through the swirling snow. Arrow slits were set into that massive wall, which was topped by crenelations. So this had to be the Citadel of Harjula then.
“Wow, this place is huge,” Tsabo whistled, his normally booming voice barely audible over the icy wind, “I wonder what that wall is supposed to keep out.”
“Or keep in,” Kurval said darkly.
The fortress was built on a natural hill. A series of iced over steps, flanked by rocks jutting randomly out of the ice, led up to the massive gate.
At the bottom of the steps, Kurval and Tsabo halted.
“We’d best hail them,” Kurval said, “Lest we get an arrow in the chest for our troubles.”
Tsabo nodded and cupped his hands to his mouth.
“Ahoy, you there guarding the citadel,” he cried, his booming voice echoing across the icy wasteland, “We’re two mercenaries, come to take service, so open up the gate and let us in.”
They waited, but the gate did not open and the citadel remained silent. Only the lanterns next to the gate flickered red in the gloom like twin drops of blood.
Kurval and Tsabo exchanged a glance. “Mayhaps they have not heard you,” Kurval said.
He raised his voice. “Hola, you there at the citadel. We’re two mercenaries, come to join you in your duty and strengthen your numbers. We’re also really bloody cold, so let us in.”
They waited, but once again the gate did not open, the citadel remained silent.
Kurval and Tsabo exchanged another glance.
“What’s wrong with them?” Kurval grumbled, “Surely, they must have heard or seen us, unless they’re asleep at their posts.”
“Or dead,” Tsabo said darkly, “They may have been overrun by enemies and slaughtered.”
“Then why is there no evidence of any fighting? If they’d been attacked and overrun, surely there would be damage to the walls and bodies and arrows lying around. But there’s nothing. Nothing except those dead silent walls.”
Tsabo had no answer to that. “What exactly are those enemies that the citadel is protecting the kingdom from anyway?” he asked instead, “At Fort Kusela, they only vaguely spoke of creatures that live in the ice. But are those creatures even human?”
It was an interesting question. For come to think of it, the commander of Fort Kusela had been remarkably vague about what awaited them at Harjula. Only that there was always a need for skilled fighters at the citadel to defend the newly expanded borders of the kingdom of Harjula against its enemies that lurked far up in the frozen north, where the sun never sets in summer and never rises in winter. But just what those enemies might be, the commander either didn’t know or wouldn’t say.
“There’s no evidence of an attack by non-human creatures either,” Kurval pointed out, “In fact, there’s no evidence for any kind of battle at all.”
“Maybe a plague wiped them all out,” Tsabo pointed out, “Or black magic.”
“It’s possible,” Kurval replied, “Anything’s possible at this point.”
Tsabo looked up at the citadel with its forbidding walls. “So what do we do now?” he wanted to know.
“Move in closer and see if we can find a way in,” Kurval said.
“And what if there is a plague? Or black magic or something else?”
Kurval shrugged. “Well, it’s not as if we have much of a choice,” he said, “Either we find a way into that citadel or we freeze to death out here.”
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About Richard Blakemore:
Richard Blakemore was married for more than fifty years to Constance Allen Blakemore and the couple had four children.
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About Cora Buhlert:
Cora has been writing, since she was a teenager, and has published stories, articles and poetry in various international magazines. She is the author of the Silencer series of pulp style thrillers, the Shattered Empire space opera series, the In Love and War science fiction romance series, the Helen Shepherd Mysteries and plenty of standalone stories in multiple genres.
When Cora is not writing, she works as a translator and teacher. She also runs the Speculative Fiction Showcase and the Indie Crime Scene and contributes to the Hugo-nominated fanzine Galactic Journey. Cora is a two-time finalist for the Hugo Award for Best Fan Writer and the winner of the 2021 Space Cowboy Award.
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