Ragnarok Rising: Desolation: Book Five of the Ragnarok Rising Saga

by D. A. Roberts

  “Aldrnari!” hissed the big warrior.

  Instantly, the warrior's sword burst into flames and he swung a savage backslash as he stood to attack Butcher. I could see that Butcher had been caught completely off guard by the sudden fire of the blade. Butcher managed to get his sword into position and knocked the flaming blade to the side, but the force of the blow sent him sprawling into the snow.

  The warrior that I was facing made a tremendous lunge at my midsection, but I stepped to the side. Swinging my left blade with all the power I could put behind it, I struck the big warrior in the side of the helmet. The shrieking of the steel pierced the night as sparks flew from the visor of the helmet, briefly blinding the big warrior. I used the momentary distraction to dive to the right and swing for the back of his knees. To my surprise, he parried the blow with a sudden swing of his massive blade that send pain up my arm and into my shoulder.

  Using the force of the blow, I allowed myself to be knocked to the side and managed to stay on my feet. My right arm felt numb, but I held tightly to my blade. I couldn't afford to give up my only advantage by making the fight one sword against one sword. I needed every bit of help I could get against this massive armored fighter. Feinting at his legs with my right blade, I waited until he parried and swung at his helmet again. This time, the sharp report of my blade solidly impacting with the side of his head had the desired effect. The enormous warrior stumbled, but didn't fall.

  I could see Butcher getting back to his feet as the warrior he was battling stood up. The flaming sword cast eerie shadows around the area as the two began to circle each other, searching for an opening. Butcher was heavily outmatched, but didn't let that slow him down. He knew that our best shot lay in outmaneuvering these armored titans. Anything less would undoubtedly mean our deaths.

  Pressing my advantage, I spun inside the reach of the addled warrior and drove my swords into his back, drawing sparks as both blades scored a groove down the plate along his spine. The already addled warrior stumbled forward and fell to one knee, driving the tip of his blade into the ground to keep from falling on his face. I turned to take a second shot at his exposed back, but the deep snow was slowing my attacks.

  The warrior that was facing Butcher flashed his blade through the air, using the sudden light to distract Butcher. To his credit, Butcher deflected the blow but had to step back to clear his vision. The brightness of the flames was causing me to see colored shapes floating through the air, partially ruining my night vision. I had to concentrate to keep from losing my focus on the warrior that I was facing.

  Getting unsteadily to his feet, the warrior before me began to turn to face me. Not waiting for him to be fully prepared, I launched a series of attacks at his left side. He managed to deflect the first two strikes, but one got through and I could hear him grunt in pain as my blade found an opening in the plates beneath his left arm. I could see the blackish fluid spurt into the snow and I smiled, knowing that I had drawn first blood.

  Taking the initiative, Butcher leapt towards the towering monster and swung a ferocious blow intended to strike the neck below the helmet. The colossal warrior parried the blow and drove one big gauntleted fist into Butcher's face, knocking him onto his back and into the deep snow. The gigantic warrior raised his sword into the air to finish off Butcher by driving the blade straight down through his exposed chest. Butcher was already dazed and couldn't get his weapon up to block the attack.

  Turning away from my own target, I grounded my left blade and grabbed the handle of my second Raven Blade. With a hard snap of the wrist, I sent the black blade streaking into the back of the attacker and watched as the blade sank to the crosspiece in the back of his left shoulder, where the plates join together. The huge adversary roared in pain as he tried to reach back and yank the dagger from his shoulder, but he couldn't reach it.

  Butcher used the distraction to his advantage and scrambled to his feet. Lunging at the enraged warrior, Butcher drove his shoulder into the hip of the armored assailant and knocked him off balance. Swinging his sword with all the strength he could muster, Butcher drove the blade into the side of the big warrior's helmet. The massive clang of the impact shook the warrior and made him stagger back before falling to his knees in the snow.

  Butcher pushed his advantage and swung his broadsword in a wide arc, intending to cleave the head from the dazed warrior's shoulders. With unexpected speed and fury, the big warrior drove his elbow into Butcher's stomach and doubled him over. The armored giant rose and turned towards Butcher, swinging the flaming sword as he turned. I could see the horror illuminated in Butcher's eyes as it registered in his mind what was happening. Too late, he tried to parry the blow, but the Eldjötnar was too fast. Right before my eyes, the fiery blade sliced cleanly through Butcher's neck and his head fell away from the body with a sizzle of burning flesh.

  The blow had severed the neck cleanly and cauterized the cut as it passed through the flesh. No blood flew from the wound. Butcher's headless body stood swaying on its feet for the span of a few heartbeats still clasping his sword in his hands, before falling over backwards and lying lifeless in the snow.

  “No!” I screamed, stunned by the sight of one of the Einherjar so easily killed.

  Time slowed to a crawl and I managed to keep my senses about me just enough to step to the side as the warrior that was facing me attempted to cut me in half in a cross-body slash. When the blade buried itself into the frozen ground, I stepped onto the exposed flat of the blade and grasped the top of the warrior's helmet. I could see his eyes blazing like embers as I drove the tip of my sword through the visor and into the skull beneath it.

  With a brutal twist, I yanked my blade free and watched as the massive warrior fell backwards into the snow. Turning to face the other warrior, I could see that he was now advancing on me with the flaming blade poised to strike. He was closing the distance rapidly and was going to be on top of me in a few seconds. Unfortunately for him, I had already planned on him doing just that.

  Grabbing my other blade and kicking off of the sword from where it still protruded from the ground, I launched myself into the air. Spinning to the left as I leapt at him, I used my left blade to engage his sword while I shot the right blade at the gap between his helmet and his chest plate, just where my knife had found its mark. The force of our two blades coming together forced me to the side, altering the trajectory of my jump. Although my blade still struck the gap in his armor, it wasn't enough to finish the fight.

  I could see dark colored blood spray into the air and darken the snow beside him. I landed and kept my footing, turning to press my attack even further. The big warrior stumbled and I saw the blade drop from nerveless fingers. Instantly, the flame extinguished as it hissed into the snow. His other hand went to the wound in his neck that was spurting out his life's blood.

  Not waiting for him to come back to his senses, I spun to my right and drove both blades into the back of his injured knee. I felt one of the blades pierce the joint and watched as the big warrior fell onto his knees. Even on his knees, he was still nearly as tall as me. I could see the glint of his eyes as he stared at me in shock from the darkness of the helmet. Clearly, he hadn't expected me to be able to cause that much damage.

  Reaching for the back of his helmet, I yanked it off of his head and threw it aside into the snow. In the pale light reflected from the snow, I could see the reddish cast to his skin and the heavy bone structure of his face. His long red hair fell out and billowed around him in the wind, looking like the leaping flames of a campfire. I could see the fire in his eyes as he glared hatred at me with primal fury. I knew then that there could be no dialogue between us, no peace to be found. In truth, I didn't want there to be anyway. I wanted vengeance for Butcher.

  “Die motherfucker!” I snarled as I drove my blade into his exposed throat.

  I slashed all the way to bone and watched as the light in his eyes began to fade. He fell forward onto his hands and knees as I spun around for t
he coup de grace. With tremendous force, I sliced through the back of his neck, removing the head in one savage blow. Black blood sprayed from the stump of the neck as the head rolled into the snow, coming to rest with the eyes looking right at me. They blinked several times as the light completely faded from them. The body crumpled into a lifeless heap in the snow, while the massive heart continued to push out the dark fluid in smaller and smaller spurts.

  Quickly, I recovered my daggers and turned to head towards the other fight that was taking place less than fifty yards away. I could see that the Hrimthurssar were not faring well. Although one of the Eldjötnar had been taken off of his horse, none of the Hrimthurssar were mounted on their Vargr. I could see one of the massive canines was limping in a wide circle around the edge of the battle, the other lay lifeless in the snow.

  Of the original three Hrimthurssar, only two were still standing. It looked like Gnissa and Suttung were still in the battle, but Heidrek lay in heap near where his Vargr had fallen. I could see from the way that they moved, both Gnissa and Suttung were badly wounded. Although I could hear the calls of the signal horns still sounding the alert, they weren't close enough to join in this fight in time to make a difference.

  I began running towards where the two Hrimthurssar were making their stand. The one Eldjötnar who was on foot was keeping his distance, undoubtedly waiting for his mounted comrade to soften them up enough where he could come in and finish them off. I had every intention of making sure that didn't happen.

  I shifted my approach and headed directly at the back of the Eldjötnar that was on the ground. If I could engage him before he realized I was there, I could turn this battle in our favor and either force the remaining rider to flee or simply overwhelm him with numbers. That was my plan, anyway. As usual, something always seems to go wrong with my plans.

  When I was less than ten yards away from the standing Eldjötnar, he spun in my direction and threw something. Before I could react, I felt the blade of the dagger that he had thrown sink to the hilt in my left shoulder. I guess it was a dagger, at least to this gigantic warrior. To me, it was about the size of a short sword. With a grunt of pain I twisted to the right, but managed to keep my momentum from knocking me to the ground.

  I felt my sword slip from the numb fingers of my left hand. I could see steam rising from the wound as the warm blood was exposed to the frigid night air. I could also feel the tip of the dagger protruding from my back. It had gone clear through me. I wasn't sure how close to my heart the blade had been, but I knew I was hurt badly. If I lost my footing and fell, this fight was over. The big warrior would finish me off without a second thought.

  Dropping my other sword, I felt my knees growing weak. Despite my best efforts, I fell to the frozen ground. I managed to twist enough to land on my right side, preventing the impact from causing more damage by driving the dagger deeper into my flesh. My vision swam as I saw the big warrior coming towards me. I could see that this one had an open-faced helmet, and he had a triumphant smile on his face as he came towards me.

  Drawing a dagger from his belt, he leaned over me and looked me in the eye. He ripped my shemagh away from my face and looked down with surprise.

  “So this is the famous Wylie Grant,” he hissed with a twisted smile on his face, emphasizing my name. “Honestly, I expected more. You fell far easier than your reputation would lead me to believe.”

  “Fuck you,” I hissed through pain-clenched teeth.

  “You should have chosen your last words more carefully,” he said, lifting me up by the front of my armor and bringing his blade towards my throat.

  “Speak for yourself, asshole,” I replied and jammed the barrel of the XVR into his left eye.

  He opened his mouth to bellow in pain, but the roar of the massive revolver drowned out whatever noise he was about the make. The big hollow-point round smashed through his skull and exploded against the back of his helmet, showering me in dark blood mixed with chunks of skull and brain. His already lifeless body fell in a heap beside me and stained the snow with the black fluid.

  “Nasty,” I hissed, spitting chunks of something wet out of my mouth.

  The resounding boom of the pistol brought all eyes to me. I struggled to my feet and only narrowly managed to keep from falling right back down. The blade that was buried deep in my shoulder was causing me to lose a lot of blood. I needed to get the blade out and a pressure bandage on, if I had any intention of staying in this fight. The trouble was, I didn't have time to do either. The one remaining Eldjötnar was charging towards me with murder in his eyes. So far, the score was Wylie three, Eldjötnar zero and I had every intention of keeping them from getting on the scoreboard.

  Raising the big pistol, I took as steady an aim as I could and fired. It was a clean miss, but it did cause the big warrior to duck his head. My vision was blurry and I wasn't certain of a hit, so I did the only thing I could do. I aimed for the biggest target. Firing twice more, I heard the shriek of pain as the round smashed into the horse. It reared up and threw the rider to the frozen ground before galloping away for the trees.

  No sooner had the Eldjötnar struck the ground, Suttung raced forward and drove his blade into the fallen warrior's chest. With a savage twist, he yanked his blade free. Gnissa came towards them, limping badly.

  “Take his head!” she called. “Take his head!”

  Without hesitation, Suttung swung his blade in a wide arc and cleaved the head from the neck of the last warrior. I could only wonder if the battle was over or if they would finish me off before they were through. I knew that I was in no shape to continue the fight. I couldn't afford to let them know it, but I was spent. I had one bullet remaining in the XVR, but my hand was already beginning to shake. I doubted that I could hit one of them, even if I tried.

  As they approached me, I could hear them talking in hushed tones. Although they were close enough that I could make out the words, they were speaking a language that I didn't know. Whatever they were saying, I could only hope they weren't discussing how they were going to kill me.

  “Grant?” asked Gnissa, an odd tone in her voice.

  “Yes,” I replied, although the word came out badly slurred.

  “We owe you our lives,” she said. “You need not fear us. We are in your debt.”

  “Good,” I replied. “I don't think I have the strength left to kill you both.”

  At least that's what I intended to say. I think I passed out right after the first word. I felt myself falling and strong hands catching me, then nothing more. Darkness took me, but I didn't dream.

  Chapter Eleven

  A Warm Fire

  “You will never do anything in this world without courage.

  It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honor.”

  - Aristotle

  When I awoke, I was laying on a pile of furs with a crackling fire beside me. I was in a type of lodge-pole tent, similar to the types that the Native Americans had used. It had a smoke hole in the top center and a central fire-pit. It was big enough to house at least a dozen people, in relative comfort.

  I blinked until my vision was clear and glanced around. I had been stripped to my waist and my shoulder was expertly bandaged. I could see several of the Hrimthurssar seated around the room on piles of furs of their own. When they noticed that I was awake, two of them stood and approached me. Although I didn't know any of their faces, I guessed from the way she was limping that the woman was Gnissa.

  “You are awake,” she said, smiling broadly.

  “I am,” I said, trying to sit up.

  “I wouldn't do that, if I were you,” cautioned the other one. “You will tear out your stitches.”

  This one was definitely a male. I didn't recognize the voice, so I knew it couldn't be Suttung. His hair was snow-white, as well as the thick beard that fell to the middle of his chest. Despite the fact that he was Hrimthurssar, I felt no threat from him. In fact, he seemed friendly and jovial. He was nothing like what I expec
ted him to be. He was nothing like Thrym.

  “Where am I?” I asked glancing around.

  “You are in our camp,” replied Gnissa. “After the battle, you needed a healer. Since I doubted that your people would open the door for me, I brought you here. I knew that Bolthorn would be your best bet.”

  I noticed that she was gesturing towards the bearded warrior beside her. Although he was undoubtedly a healer, he carried himself like a warrior. I had little doubt that in their culture, everyone was a warrior. Probably out of necessity.

  “You saved my daughter,” said Bolthorn. “For that, I am in your debt.”

  “You saved me,” I replied. “I think we're even.”

  “Grant single-handedly slew three of the Eldjötnar,” said Gnissa, excitedly. “In fact, if it hadn't been for him, Suttung wouldn't have been able to finish off the one that he killed. To be honest, the credit for that one should go to Grant as well. If he hadn't knocked him from the saddle, we might not have been able to kill him at all.”

  I just shrugged. I didn't feel like celebrating. Butcher had died in that fight. Although he died a warrior's death, I couldn't help but blame myself. I got him into the fight by challenging the Eldjötnar. I could only console myself with the knowledge that if we hadn't, all three of the Hrimthurssar would have died. Despite the fact that they were still our enemies, I felt it had been the right thing to do.

  “What happened to my friend?” I asked.

  “We brought his body back with us, along with the body of one of our own,” replied Gnissa. “We will honor our own dead. I assumed you would want to do the same.”

  “Yes,” I said, nodding. “We'll give him a warrior's send off.”

  “That is only fitting,” she said, nodding grimly. “He deserves no less. He fought valiantly.”