“I count six Frostbiters out front in the trees,” I said. “Probably that many or more behind us. I see one Hrimthurssar and one traitor.”
“I never liked that son-of-a-bitch,” muttered Snake. “Want me to introduce him to Brjótanir?”
“I'll take him with the rifle,” I said. “I'll put a round in his leg. I want to talk to him first. Give him a chance to explain why he betrayed us.”
“What's the plan, then?” asked Spec-4.
“I'll engage Banner and Skrymir,” I said. “As soon as I do, you all head out the front. Engage the dead and take them out as fast as you can. The others will come around from the back as soon as the fighting begins.”
“We'll wait for your first shot,” said Marko. “As soon as we hear the round, we're heading out the door.”
“Good,” I answered. “Get ready. Winston and Bowman, cover the back door and protect the horses.”
Bowman didn't seem to like that very much, but Winston just nodded. They both took out their rifles and checked the load. With grim nods, they indicated they were both ready. I gave them both a quick smile and headed back for the loft door.
Once I was back in place, I took a few seconds to locate Banner again. Lining up my shot, I resisted the urge to place the crosshairs back on his forehead. Instead, I aimed lower and centered my reticule on his left knee. He was crouched in the snow with his right knee beneath him, so his left knee was right out where I could get a clear shot. He was wearing armor like ours but, thanks to Bowman, I knew right where to aim.
“Let's see how you like this,” I mused, gently taking up the slack in the trigger.
I felt the rifle buck slightly in my hands and the sharp report of the 5.56mm round pierced the stillness. Through the ACOG, I could see the round punch through the armor and the knee beneath it. Banner went down and I could hear his scream carried on the wind. I was already moving the sights when I heard the doors to the barn swing open. The fight was on.
I lined the sights up on my secondary target. Although Banner was still moving, I took aim at his right hand. Despite being wounded, he still had a weapon and the ability to use it. I was about to happily take that away from him. Another sharp report sounded and I watched through the ACOG as the first three fingers on his right hand were torn from the bloody stump of his hand. Banner went down screaming into the snow.
“Fuck you,” I hissed, shifting my aim and looking for Skrymir.
The first round that had struck Banner must have been all the warning that Skrymir had needed. He wasn't where I had last seen him. In fact, I couldn't find him anywhere in the trees. Undoubtedly, the coward had retreated to the darkness of the woods to let the dead continue the battle. That was fine with me. I could track the bastard, once the battle was over. Although I wasn't as good of a tracker as Banner, I was more than good enough to track something that left footprints the size of Skrymir's.
Lowering the ACOG, I looked out into the clearing in front of the barn. The others had rushed out into it as soon as I had fired my first shot. The Frostbiters were emerging from the trees and heading right for them, without any hesitation. What shocked me was that Skrymir was leading the charge. He'd come out to fight us instead of hiding like a coward. Will wonders never cease?
I slung the M-4 over my shoulder and headed for the ladder. I was eager to get outside and join the battle. Just as I was reaching the ladder, the back doors of the barn exploded inward as two of the massive Frostbiters forced their way inside. From this vantage point, I was looking down on the tops of their heads. They hadn't seen me and were making right for Bowman, Winston and the horses.
Switching to the Beowulf, I brought the beast to my shoulder and snap fired at the head of the first Frostbiter to come through the door. Beowulf roared its furious battle-cry and punched right through the top of the ice covered head, shattering it into gory shrapnel. Before it had fallen, I was already lining up my second shot on the next target.
The bellow of Beowulf had gotten everyone's attention and I found myself looking directly into the face of the second creature. It opened its mouth and a low moan began to emanate from the depths of the beast when Beowulf spoke again. The moan was cut short as the monolithic solid rounds pierced the front of the skull and exploded out the back.
“That's two!” I bellowed, maneuvering for another shot.
From the opening in the doors, six more were jostling each other to get inside and go after their prey. My attention was momentarily shifted by another thunderous report of a large caliber weapon. I glanced over to see Bowman was using a lever action Henry .4570 to great success. His first round tore the side of the head apart of one of the dead before he worked the lever with the tell-tale chick-chuck as he chambered the next round. The second resonating boom took down the next creature that tried to get through the door.
“I've got this!” he called to me. “Go help the others.”
Taking a quick shot, Beowulf took down another target and I watched it fall with grim satisfaction. That only left three more of the creatures bearing down on the door. I grabbed the ladder and began climbing down as fast as I could go. Before I hit the ground, Bowman had dispatched another of the creatures and was working the action preparing for his next shot.
Spinning around, I brought Beowulf back to my shoulder and took another shot as I backed towards the front door. Bowman fired at almost the exact same time and two more of the creatures toppled over backwards, adding to the growing pile of frozen bodies. The one remaining creature inexplicably stopped and stepped to the side. I carefully gauged where it was standing and shot through the wall.
The board that I shot exploded apart, partly from the extreme cold and partly from the tremendous force of the impact of the monolithic solid .50 caliber round. Through the hole, I could see what was left of the head on the Frostbiter shatter and disappear from my view. By my counting, that was all of them.
Just as I was about to turn away and head for the front of the building, I saw more movement coming through the back door. This time, it wasn't the dead. Two of the Hrimthurssar were coming through the door with weapons drawn. One was holding two massive broadswords while the other had a two-handed mace. Briefly, I considered just shooting them. After all, they hadn't fought with anything close to honor by sending in the dead to attack us first.
I recognized both of them from our first meeting with Thrym. It was Fjolsvin and Thiazzi. They were both firmly steadfast in their loyalty to Thrym. It was clear that he only sent the men that he knew he could trust to attack us, which would include Skrymir. Aurvandil might have questioned his orders, as would Suttung and Gnissa. I would definitely have to fight these two.
“Grant!” bellowed Fjolsvin. “Throw down the gun and fight us like a warrior. Unless you are a coward!”
“I'd think that you would know better than that,” I retorted. “How many of the Eldjötnar have you killed?”
“Then prove your mettle,” snarled Thiazzi. “Fight us!”
I turned and nodded to Bowman and Winston.
“I've got this,” I said. “Get the horses clear. We can't risk losing them.”
“Are you sure?” asked Bowman. “We can take these fuckers.”
He used the .4570 for emphasis.
“I'm sure,” I replied. “I'll handle them.”
Bowman just shrugged and they began to lead the horses out of the area. They would take them out the back and away from the fighting in the front. Between the two of them, they would be able to protect themselves from a few of the Frostbiters, if necessary. Bowman had already proven the value of the monolithic core rounds.
Slinging the Beowulf over my shoulder, I drew my Ulfrbrandr. The two swords glistened in the scant light that filtered into the barn. I noted that they were both well over a foot taller than me. Thiazzi was close to seven and a half feet tall and Fjolsvin was only a couple of inches shorter than him. They began to fan out in an attempt to force me to fight between them. It wasn't the most advant
ageous place for me to be.
Behind me, I could hear the ringing of weapons and the report of multiple guns as the battle began in front of the barn. I could only hope that they could hold their own until I could finish with these two and join them. Assuming that I could beat them, at all. I was about to find out, one way or the other. I just had to trust in my friends, since I wasn't able to risk a glance back at them without taking my attention off of the two behemoths that were flanking me.
Fjolsvin began twirling his swords through the air, working his wrists and building up momentum on the blades. I could see in his eyes that he was about to attack. To my right, Thiazzi was bringing his mace up behind him, ready to slam it down in a crushing blow. I figured that all that they were waiting for was for them both to be in position. Time to throw a monkey wrench into their plans.
Lunging towards Thiazzi, I swung both swords towards him from opposite directions. He swung the mace down to parry, just as I had anticipated. I engaged the mace with my left blade and spun away and around his right side. Too late, he realized what I was doing and tried to disengage his mace from my sword, but I had it locked.
At the pinnacle of my spin, I snapped my blade around and stepped inside his reach. With a savage slash, I took out the hamstring on his right leg. I felt my blade pass through his armor and bite deeply into the flesh beneath it. I could see the blood erupt from the deep wound and could smell the metallic scent that now filled the air. The smell was so strong, I could almost taste the coppery flavor.
Thiazzi screamed in agony as his leg gave out and he went to the ground. Disengaging my sword from his mace, I continued my spin around him and jammed the tip of my blade into his exposed left thigh. Again, my blade pierced his armor and bit deeply into his flesh. Blood gushed from the ragged hole I had just torn in his thigh muscle. Both of his legs were now all but useless, leaving me free to face Fjolsvin, one on one.
For his part, Fjolsvin looked at me in wide-eyed shock, because I had just taken Thiazzi out of the fight so quickly. Clearly, he hadn't expected me to do so much damage, so fast. Now he was approaching with much more caution than he had been exercising, only moments before.
“Your turn, asshole,” I said, grinning wickedly.
Not waiting for him to respond, I launched at him with a flurry of blows. He parried them all, but kept backing up. The look in his eyes told me that I had shaken his confidence. That was good, since I intended to shake a Hel of a lot more than that. So long as I kept pressing the attack, he wasn't going to have time to think of much else.
With a sudden lurch, I snapped both blades in an outward slash simultaneously. He parried them both, but it left his midsection exposed. I wasn't able to capitalize on it with my swords, but I was able to land a savage kick to the stomach. I heard the air whoosh out of him in a great burst and he began to wheeze as he tried to draw in air.
Spinning to my left, I brought both swords down in a quick attack at his right arm. I engaged his sword with my right blade to prevent him from moving it. With the left blade, I sliced his hand off at the wrist. The sword clattered to the ground with the hand still wrapped around the hilt.
The look on his face wasn't the expected shock of pain. It was more rage than pain. He reacted in a way that I hadn't fully anticipated. He attempted something that I had only heard about from documentaries. He pointed the gory stump at me and let the fountain of blood spurt into my face. It was a move that they referred to as the Fountain of Tyr. Ancient Germanic warriors used that same move against the Roman Legion, more than a thousand years ago. Thank you, History Channel.
Instead of spurting blood all over my face, I managed to turn my head and it coated the left side of my face where my eye-patch was at. Although I had his blood running down my face, neck and side, none of it had managed to get into my eye. My vision was still clear enough to fight. That was good for me, since he was coming at me with his left sword leading the way.
I snapped my left blade down to engage and knock his blade aside, then spun to the right. My right blade flashed in and I sliced through the back of his neck and out the front. His head fell away from his body and blood erupted into the air. His momentum carried him forward a few steps before he collapsed in a heap, with an expanding puddle of blood pouring from the stump of his neck and arm. Blood that would quickly cool and freeze in this weather.
I was shocked that his eyes were still moving and almost didn't react fast enough when I heard a bellow of rage come from behind me. Dancing to the side, I turned to see Thiazzi take several stumbling steps towards me, swinging his monstrous mace with deadly intent. In a downward right to left swing, he brought a tremendous blow aimed at crushing the life from me. I only just barely managed to leap to the side and watched in shock as the thunderous blow crushed the main support beam in the middle of the room like it was a matchstick.
Instantly, the entire barn began to creak and groan. Partially due to the age of the old structure, but likely more to the enormous amount of extra weight that the structure was supporting from the layers of heavy ice and snow on the roof. It was easy to see that the barn was going to come crashing down very soon. Unfortunately, I was still in the middle of a fight.
Taking several unsteady steps on his injured legs, Thiazzi prepared to swing the massive mace at me again. I deftly stepped back to stay just out of his reach. I was playing for time and trying to get closer to the exit. I didn't want to be inside when the barn decided to come crashing down. After everything I'd been through, being crushed to death by an ancient barn wasn't exactly how I thought I would go out.
Lunging forward, he brought the mace down in a double overhand swing, trying to stave in my skull. I lurched backwards, just enough for the mace to miss me and bury itself in the dirt floor of the barn. It barely missed me, but was close enough that I felt the air from its passage on my face. I didn't want to think about how close it had come to scoring a hit. I knew it couldn't have been more than a few inches, at the most.
Before he could try to raise the weapon again, I stepped on the head of the mace and held it fast. Our eyes met and I saw realization in them. He knew what was about to happen an instant before I did it and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Crossing my arms, I brought my blades together like gigantic scissors, slicing his head off in one clean cut.
His head stayed on his neck momentarily, as he let go of the mace and stumbled back. Blinking in confusion, he opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if trying to say something. He couldn't make a sound since his vocal chords had been severed. As the light began to fade from his eyes, his body fell backwards as his head rolled off to the front and tumbled to a stop at my feet.
I didn't have time to savor my victory, because that was the moment the barn chose to collapse. I could see the entire structure begin to shift and crumble inwards. I was still a good twenty feet from the door, so I turned and ran for it. Boards, beams and debris began to rain down around me as I put my head down and ran with everything I had.
I could hear the dying groan of agony as the old structure gave way and collapsed in upon itself. I was still almost ten feet from the door and knew I had only seconds before being crushed by tons of falling wood and ice. My heart leapt into my throat and I could feel the blood rushing through my veins. It was now or never.
Using my momentum, I dove head first for the opening. I tucked my head down, rolling forward and springing up to gain distance. I could feel the rush of air and dust as the barn hit the ground with enough force to stagger everyone in the area. I could feel pieces of wooden shrapnel hitting me in the back, striking my head, legs and torso. I felt warm blood running down the back of my head and knew that at least one piece had found its mark.
I stood up and found that the battle in front of me was still raging. Two of the massive Frostbiters were already down and the other four were engaging Snake, Bergelmir and Bridgett. Marko and Spec-4 were engaging Skrymir. I could instantly tell that all of our people were wounded in some
fashion. Bergelmir was bleeding from numerous cuts to his arms and torso, but nothing seemed to slow down the big warrior.
Snake was favoring one leg and Bridgett had a nasty scalp wound that was bleeding profusely. Marko held one arm tightly against his body and Spec-4 was on her knees in the snow. It looked like she had taken a shot to the face that had almost knocked her out, but she wasn't bleeding. Skrymir had either struck her with the flat of his blade or punched her. Either way, she was down but not out.
I had to decide which group needed my help more. Flicking my eyes from one to the other, the decision was made for me when Skrymir stepped inside Marko's defense and shoved three feet of steel through his stomach.
“Valhalla,” I heard Marko gasp.
Skrymir held Marko trapped there, gazing into his eyes before yanking the blade free and slicing his head off. To his credit, Marko never made a sound.
Turning to head for Skrymir, I could see he was advancing on Spec-4. He was intent on finishing her off and not watching his surroundings. Dropping my left blade into the snow, I drew and threw one of the Raven blades in one smooth motion. The blade flew true and stuck Skrymir through the throat, sticking out the other side of his neck and making him gurgle on his own blood.
“Hey!” I bellowed as I brought my other sword up to attack him.
I could see that he was dazed, but not enough to not recognize the danger he was in. Too late, he tried to bring up his sword, managing to get it pointed at my midsection. I was moving too fast to stop, but I did try to side step to avoid the outstretched blade. I almost made it, too.
His longer blade scored a deep cut along my right side, slicing through my armor and digging a deep furrow into my side. Although it was agonizingly painful, I accepted the cut and continued my attack. With a savage double handed slash, I sliced through his head from just above his left ear to just below his jaw on the right side of his face. The top of his head fell into the snow and his body fell to the side.
Ragnarok Rising: Desolation: Book Five of the Ragnarok Rising Saga Page 21
