The frozen river would be in the open, but it was below the level of the river banks. It would give us the best amount of concealment, so long as the ice held. I didn't really want to think about going through the ice and into the freezing water carrying all of my gear. I would sink like a stone. I knew that the river was close to twenty feet deep near the center, so there was plenty of water to drown in. Yeah, no pressure there.
Motioning for Butcher to follow me, I headed towards the edge of the ice. Once I reached it, I gingerly stepped out onto the ice and listened for the telltale sound of cracking. When I didn't hear anything, I turned and nodded at Butcher.
“There's no way that ice is gonna break,” he said. “I grew up in Minnesota and we used to drive cars out on the lake to ice fish. It never got this cold back then. This ice is gotta be three feet thick, at least.”
“I hope you're right,” I said, heading farther out onto the ice.
The snow was deep enough on the river to prevent us from actually seeing the layers of ice. It also provided enough traction that we could walk easily, with minimal slipping. Butcher stayed in my tracks to conceal our numbers. Despite the snow, we made good progress getting across the river. Although it was only about thirty yards across where we were at, it felt like a mile. My heart was racing the entire time that we were out in the open.
Kneeling down in the shelter of the bank, we took a moment to catch our breath and rest. The sun was sinking steadily and the sky was growing darker. Although the sun was behind the clouds, it did provide enough illumination to see by. Once it had gone down completely, it was going to be very dark out. Not even the starlight would be visible to go by. The white of the snow would help us, but it was still going to be treacherous.
After a few minutes, we climbed up and over the river bank and headed into the trees. If we stuck to the trees along the river's edge, we could cross beneath the bridge and slip into the forest beyond. We couldn't head straight for the woods, since we would have to cross a large open field from this direction. We had to keep our pace slow and steady, to minimize our movement and the noise. Butcher remained behind me, stepping in my tracks as much as possible.
When we reached the bridge, I motioned for him to follow me up into the girders that supported the roadway. I wasn't sure why, but something told me we needed to take cover. Butcher didn't argue and we slipped up the rocks and into the darkness at the top where the bridge met the earth. It formed a small cave that we could slip into and not be seen.
No sooner had we slipped into it, I heard the howl of a Vargr on the wind. It was coming from the direction that we were going, not from where we had been. That was good, since it meant that they wouldn't see our tracks. After a moment, a second howl answered. Although they were quite some distance apart, they were still on this side of the river and not over near the compound.
“Sounds like a patrol,” whispered Butcher. “Good call. Did you hear something before?”
“Just my gut telling me to take cover,” I replied, softly.
We stayed there, crouching in the darkness for several minutes. From where we hid, I could see both directions up and down the river. The snow was coming down hard enough that you could no longer make out our tracks where we had crossed. That also meant that if any of them came closer, they wouldn't be able to see them either.
After a moment, I could hear the sound of heavy steps in the snow. It was the unmistakable sound of the Vargr. From the sound of it, there had to be multiple creatures approaching. They were coming up to the bridge.
Butcher and I glanced at each other, worried that they were searching for us. That would only mean that someone inside the compound had tipped them off that we were coming. My mind began to whirl with the possibilities when I heard them come out onto the bridge and stop. I held my breath and motioned for Butcher to stay quiet. I pointed above us and he nodded understanding.
We were expecting the Vargr to growl or to make any indication that they had picked up our scent, but the only sound we heard from them was the heavy panting of a large canine. From the sound of it, they had been running for some distance. What we didn't expect were voices.
“Why are we out here, Heidrek?” asked a deep voice.
“Because that is what our orders say, Suttung,” replied a second voice. “We patrol the edge of the human's camp and wait for the signal.”
“What the fuck!” breathed Butcher, angrily.
I motioned for him to stay quiet and listened to the conversation above us.
“This is a waste of time,” said Suttung. “I should be in camp right now, enjoying Gryla's tent.”
“If you spend any more time between her legs,” said Heidrek, “you're going to grow together at the hips.”
“That is not such a bad thing,” chuckled Suttung. “There are worse fates, in this world.”
“Yes,” replied Heidrek, “Like what Thrym will do to you, if you don't follow orders.”
“Thrym is safely inside the human camp,” replied Suttung. “We haven't seen any sign of anyone leaving their camp. Besides, even if they did, the Vargr will find them and tear them to pieces.”
“Don't be so sure,” snapped Heidrek. “They killed several, the other day.”
“Those were just puppies,” answered Suttung, chuckling. “Let them try that against a full grown and battle tested War Vargr.”
“Just do not be so quick to underestimate the humans,” cautioned Heidrek. “That is what cost Grimnir so dearly. The Einherjar are far more formidable than you think.”
“Sure they are,” replied Suttung, smugly. “Against equal or lesser numbers. They have no idea how many of us are out here. We could swarm over them and destroy them at a whim.”
“You boast too much,” rumbled Heidrek. “Grimnir underestimated them and paid the price. You talk too much of defeating them for one who has not faced them before.”
“I don't recall tales of your battles against them, either,” snarled Suttung.
Suddenly, the sound of blades being drawn pierced the night. It was clearly the sound of very sharp weapons clearing scabbards.
“Careful who you insult, boy,” said Heidrek, darkly. “I've faced the Eldjötnar and lived to tell the tale. Watch your tone or you might not live long enough to face the Einherjar.”
“Don't embarrass yourself, Old Man,” hissed Suttung. “Either put your steel away or use it. I'm not impressed by your so-called tales of glory.”
“Listen, puppy,” growled Heidrek. “You'll keep your tongue in check or I'll carve it out and show it to you.”
“Enough!” snapped a third voice.
This one was definitely female, but her tone was commanding. It was clear that she was in charge.
“Both of you put your weapons away and save it for the Eldjötnar,” she shouted. “If you don't, I'll kill you both where you stand.”
“Yes, my Lady,” replied Suttung, his tone clearly subservient to her.
“As you wish,” said Heidrek, his tone more grudging than respectful.
I had the distinct feeling that Heidrek didn't think much of the woman, whoever she was. Clearly, he followed her because he was told to, not because he chose to.
“This area looks clear to me,” said the woman. “Suttung, sound the horn and let us return to camp. I'm hungry and have a warm tent of my own to be in.”
“Of course, Lady Gnissa,” replied Suttung.
With that, we heard a single sharp note sound loudly from a signal horn. After a moment, it was answered by another horn in the distance, sounding the same note.
“You see, all clear,” said Gnissa. “Let us return to camp. The next patrol can check this place again at dawn.”
We waited in silence until the sound of the thundering paws of the massive beasts had faded away in the distance before either of us spoke.
“Looks like you were right, Wylie,” whispered Butcher. “Do we head back or go see just how many of them there are?”
“We know there
has to be quite a few of them,” I replied, softly. “We have no idea how many, but we know that there is more than one patrol out there. If they patrol in groups of three and they have a camp, I'd guess probably another dozen or so at least. Maybe more. Looks like old Thrym wasn't telling us the truth when he said that they were all that was left.”
“I say we head back to base,” said Butcher. “We already know they're lying. We don't need to know exactly how many are out there. We can just assume it's a shit-load.”
“Fair enough,” I said, nodding. “Let's get back inside. I can't decide if I want to confront Thrym about this or not.”
“Might be best to keep that particular ace up your sleeve,” said Butcher. “Let the fucker think he has the upper hand. When we're not surprised, it'll be him that's in for a shock.”
With that, we climbed out of our hiding spot and headed back the way we had come. I wanted to stay hidden, just in case the patrol was still lurking in the area. Just as we were reaching the edge of the trees, I motioned for Butcher to get down. I could hear a different sound approaching from across the big clearing. It was the sound of hooves, not paws. They crunched and thundered on the ground with tremendous force. These had to be massive animals to make such a noise.
Motioning for Butcher to stay low, I crept up to the edge of the river bank and peered into the field beyond. Across the field, I could make out the forms of four riders. Even at this distance, I could see that the horses were bigger than any I had ever seen. They dwarfed even the massive Clydesdales that we had back at camp. The riders were just as massive as the horses that they rode. From the coal black of the animals to the fire-red of the cloaks that the riders wore, one thought screamed in my mind. They were Eldjötnar.
“Fuck!” I hissed. “What the fuck are they doing here?”
“Who are they?” asked Butcher, straining to get a better look at them.
“I think they're Eldjötnar,” I replied.
From out of the trees on the other end of the clearing, I could see the Vargr patrol come charging out to challenge the newcomers. I could see the one who had to be Suttung raising a signal horn to his lips and sounding three sharp notes. I had to assume that it was a warning call. I could hear the call taken up by at least four more horns, but they were far in the distance. It would take them some time before they would be able to come to the aid of their comrades.
“This is gonna get ugly,” said Butcher. “What do we do?”
Fanning out, the three Hrimthurssar rode out to meet the challengers. Without so much as a word, the Eldjötnar merely drew their weapons and spurred their massive horses to attack speed. To their credit, the Hrimthurssar did the same. The two groups were thundering towards each other without hesitation. It was clear that there was no love lost between these two peoples.
“Wait a sec,” I said. “Let's see how this plays out.”
Their first pass resounded with the fury of steel ringing on steel. One of the Vargr went down. It appeared to be the one carrying Heidrek. Although the Vargr rolled to a stop and lay still, I could see Heidrek struggling to his feet and raising his weapon. The remaining two Hrimthurssar whirled around for their next attack. The Eldjötnar turned around and lined up to strike again.
“Those poor bastards don't stand a chance,” said Butcher. “The Eldjötnar are too much for them.”
Before I even realized what I was doing, I found myself standing up and striding out into the field.
“What the fuck!” snapped Butcher, rushing to join me. “A little warning next time, dude.”
“Hey!” I bellowed. “Over here!”
Both sides stopped their mounts and turned to see who had just announced themselves. Drawing both of my swords, I made straight for the Eldjötnar. I may not like the Hrimthurssar, but you can bet your ass I was going to fight for the underdog. Even though they were outmatched, I had to respect the Hrimthurssar for not backing down.
Butcher pulled his own sword. Although it was a broadsword to him, it looked like a knife compared to the massive blades that the Eldjötnar were wielding. Although we were still easily eighty yards away from them, I could see that the riders were all wearing black plate armor and helmets. Their weapons were of a reddish steel that seemed to gleam with a light of their own. Perhaps they were only reflecting the ambient light back at us, but it almost seemed like they were glowing.
“Let's kick their asses,” said Butcher, with a sinister chuckle.
Two of the massive Eldjötnar turned towards us and began moving in our direction. The other two resumed their charge against the Hrimthurssar. As the two that were coming at us began to accelerate, I suddenly began to doubt my decision to challenge these gigantic warriors. They were coming at us with the force of a locomotive behind them. I could feel the ground beneath my feet trembling with the thunderous beats of the massive hooves.
“When they get close,” I said to Butcher, “dive to the side and strike at the front legs of their mounts.”
“Got it,” he replied.
“If we can get them on the ground,” I added, “we've got a much better shot at beating them.”
“I don't like striking a horse, even if it is one of theirs,” replied Butcher.
“I don't either, but we don't have a choice,” I said, grimacing beneath my shemagh. “If we don't get them on the ground, we don't stand a chance.”
We waited until they were almost on top of us before we dove aside. Butcher went left and I went right. I managed to lash out and strike the monstrous animal right in the fetlock, but it wasn't a solid blow. It was enough to make the beast stumble and pitch forward, sending the rider sprawling into the snow and rolling to a stop. Butcher hadn't been as lucky, missing the horse entirely but only narrowly avoiding a vicious slash from the blade of the rider.
Rolling to my feet, I grounded the blade of my right-hand sword and left it sticking up out of the ground. Drawing one of the raven blades that were on my belt, I snapped my wrist as I threw it at the still-mounted rider. I heard it thunk into the armor and heard a grunt of pain as the blade buried itself in the gap between the helmet and the chest piece. It was enough to make the rider lose his grip on the reins and fall off into the snow as the horse whirled around quickly.
Without direction from the rider, the enormous horse just trotted off towards the middle of the field. The horse that I had injured was favoring one front leg as it began to hobble in a wide arc around us, heading away from the battle. It was clear that the horses were trained to get out of the way once the rider was clear. As the two Eldjötnar started to pick themselves up out of the snow, Butcher turned towards me and nodded.
“Thanks, man,” he said, getting to his feet and readying his sword.
“Thank me when this is over,” I replied, reaching for the hilt of my sword and yanking it free from the ground.
As the two warriors stood up, I realized just how much bigger they were than the average Hrimthurssar warrior. They easily stood eight feet tall, possibly more. What was worse was the thick plate armor that they wore would make all but the mightiest of our blows next to useless. They also had weapons much larger than ours. They had us in reach, strength and protection. It was a foregone conclusion that we weren't going to beat them with brute strength, alone. We were going to have to beat them with superior speed and agility. We also had to out-think them at every turn.
“Keep moving,” I called to Butcher. “Don't try to out-muscle them or they're going to crush you like a bug.”
“Got it,” he said, bringing his sword up in a defensive stance.
I could see the one that I had hit with my dagger reach up and pull it free. Then he tossed it to the side like it was nothing. I might have wounded him, but it appeared to be nothing to the brute. I mentally marked the spot where he had tossed it, so that I could recover it when the fight was finished. I wanted my blade back, but first I had to survive this fight. With the heavy plate armor I couldn't tell how badly I had wounded him, but based on th
e way he acted it couldn't have been very bad.
As they advanced, I prepared to counter the first attack so I could gauge the power of this massive warrior. When he swung his blade, it was in a left to right motion that was meant to cleave me in half. Instead of meeting the blade head on, I spun inside the attack and used one of my blades to knock his farther to the side. This caused the giant to stumble with the added momentum of the blow and I scored a hit across his lower back with my other sword.
Sparks flew as my blade shrieked across the armor on his back, but it didn't penetrate the plates. It did knock the warrior off balance and cause him to stumble forward. Although I had scored the first hit, it had done no real damage. One thing was for certain, this was not going to be an easy fight.
I could see that Butcher had heeded my words. He dove to the side as the massive warrior swung a cleaving blow meant to take his head off. Instead of targeting the warrior's back like I had, he struck at the back of the knee. The screeching of steel on steel followed by a grunt of pain indicated that at least part of his blow had gotten through the joint and into the big warrior's knee. He fell to one knee and grabbed the wounded joint with his left hand.
The ringing of steel on steel from across the field told me that the others had wasted no time in clashing in a fierce battle of their own. Although I wanted to, I couldn't risk turning to see how it was going. I already had enough on my plate. I just had to hope that by attracting two of them to us, we had given the Hrimthurssar a fighting chance by evening the odds. Part of me couldn't help but wonder if they would be grateful for the help or if they would attack us when they were finished with the Eldjötnar.
The warrior that was facing me had regained his footing and was turning back for another attack. The warrior that Butcher was facing was still on his knee, but Butcher was not giving him time to recover. Butcher was already moving in to engage him again. Just as Butcher was about to strike the neck of the kneeling warrior, something completely unexpected happened.
Ragnarok Rising: Desolation: Book Five of the Ragnarok Rising Saga Page 15
