“Planning on arresting me, then?” he asked, mockingly.
“No,” I said, glaring at him. “This can only end when one of us falls.”
“For once, we are in complete agreement,” he replied, venom dripping from his voice. “I shall be more than happy to wipe the last of the accursed Einherjar from the face of Midgard.”
Spinning towards him, I brought both blades angling in to strike in two different places. One was aimed for the neck; the other was directed at his stomach. Again, his speed defied all logic. He planted the end of the spear in the ground and blocked both blades with the shaft. He held it with only one hand and delivered a savage backhand to my face that knocked me sprawling away from him and into the snow.
I rolled to my feet, but he was already on me. I barely parried the spear aside, but it still managed to gouge a long jagged gash down my left side. It shredded my body armor and I could feel the burning sting of the steel as it tore my skin. The jagged edge of the blade tore flesh and muscle, leaving a wound that would take a long time to close. Although I didn’t have time to check the wound closely, I could tell that it wasn’t deep enough to be fatal. It would just bleed a lot.
Snapping my wrists, I slashed out at his left side as he moved past me. I heard a grunt of pain and shock as the tip of one of the blades bit into his ribs. I had no idea if the wound had drawn blood or not, but I had hit him. Despite his speed and the fact that he was a God, I knew that I could hit him. If I could hit him, then I could make him bleed. If I could make him bleed, then I could kill him.
Circling wide to my right, he kept a safe distance from me as he evaluated his wound. I could see him clasp his hand to his side where a four inch cut had scored his armor and sliced the tunic. When his hand came away covered in red, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Do not celebrate too early, Grant,” he sneered. “Tis only a scratch.”
“Maybe,” I said, chuckling, “but you’re still bleeding.”
In a flash he was lunging at me, the tip of the spear coming right at my face. I slipped to the side and heard the rush of air as the blade whispered past me. There was a tingling sensation of pain as it glanced along my cheek just enough to draw a line of blood. Spinning around, I slammed both swords down onto the shaft of the spear. It didn’t do any damage to him, but it did force the tip of the spear down and away from me. Then, before he could react, I drove the hilt of my right hand sword into his face.
I felt the bones of his nose crunch beneath my hand and he fell back with shock registering in his eyes. I could tell that he couldn’t believe I had actually managed to hurt him. I think it was more indignation than actual pain, but I had still scored a solid blow. Now, if I could only follow it up with something more serious before he had the chance to finish me off.
“You dare!” he bellowed.
“What did you expect, douche-bag?” I snarled back at him. “Did you think I was just going to let you kill me?”
“Impudent mortal!” he roared, leaping back to his feet.
I could see the lightning in his eyes. Maybe it was a reflection of the storm that was burning through the sky or it might have been his own rage. Either way, it didn’t bode well for me. For good or for ill, I had just gotten his undivided attention. The cat and mouse game was over. Whatever he had been holding back was now going to come at me full-force.
Blow after blow, he slashed with a savagery that I had never seen. He was a blur of motion as he jabbed, slashed and jabbed again with such fury that I barely managed to block them. I didn’t escape unscathed, though. Several of his attacks had cut me along my arms, legs and torso. None were deep enough to be life-threatening, but they all hurt and were bleeding profusely. I couldn’t keep getting cut like that and not pass out from the loss of blood.
I spun hard to my right and he raked a long slash across my lower back. I could feel the spear rend flesh as it tore through my armor and grated across my backbone. I gritted my teeth and took the pain, but used the opportunity to score a wound of my own. Slashing at the backs of his legs, I tried to hamstring him. Instead, I managed to pierce his armor and cut a bloody groove along his right thigh. It bled that strange bluish-red of the Hrimthurssar. It didn’t surprise me, considering Loki was born a Jotun.
Whipping the spear back with astonishing speed, he slashed deeply across my chest. Most of my armor fell away, leaving my uniform top torn and blood flowing freely down my chest. Despite the bloodlust in my veins, the loss of blood was beginning to take a toll on me. I could feel my feet beginning to falter.
Jabbing the blade directly at my throat, I managed to catch it with both blades and forced it up and above my head. This brought us close enough together that I could lash out and kicked him in the stomach. I heard the whoosh of air as I knocked the wind out of him. Before I could capitalize on it, he drove the shaft of the spear into my face. I could feel a few teeth come loose from the blow and I knew that I was going to lose at least two of them.
Stumbling backwards, I spat bloody phlegm and the pieces of more than one tooth onto the snowy ground. Despite the pain, I looked him directly in the eye and forced myself to smile. I’m sure that the bloody wreck of my mouth looked like something out of a nightmare. He looked surprised that I would smile through the pain and actually took a step back.
“You astonish me, Grant,” he said, nodding with respect. “Lesser men would have died long ago. I will savor my victory. Your death will bring me great satisfaction.”
Turning the spear so that he gripped it like a staff, he set his feet in a defensive stance and waited for me to make a move. Either out of respect or caution, I wasn’t sure. Either way, I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to go on the offensive.
Launching my own attack, I swung both blades with all the power I could muster. He caught both blades with the shaft and used the blunt end to force the blades up and away from him. Then he quickly disengaged and drove the blade of the spear right through my right thigh. It sank all the way to the cross-guard and emerged out the back of my leg. Blood exploded from the wound, but I could tell by the volume and pressure that he had missed the artery. Had he hit the femoral, I would have bled out in seconds.
Yanking the spear free, it came loose in a shower of blood and torn pieces of flesh that clung to the serrated edge of the blade. He stepped back and pivoted around in a wide arc, that forced me to move away to avoid his reach. I was bleeding copiously and I knew that even without it hitting the artery, the size of that wound was still likely to drain out enough blood to kill me. This fight was almost over, whether I wanted it to be or not.
“You have proven your courage, Grant,” he said, nodding. “Let us end this now and I shall grant you a swift death.”
“The fight’s over when I’m dead or you are,” I replied. “Not one moment before.”
“As you wish,” he replied, grinning wickedly.
Lunging at me again, I parried the blow but was unable to put enough weight on my leg to keep up with him. I missed the chance to strike back because I couldn’t get inside his reach. Now that I was effectively hobbled, the superior reach of his weapon was going to prove deadly.
Then in desperation, I remembered something I had seen when fighting the Eldjötnar. They had commanded their blades to ignite by uttering a power word in their language. I had no way to know if it would work on my swords, but I had to try. If only I could remember the word.
“Ald….,” I stammered.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Aldrnari!” I roared.
Instantly, my blades erupted into bright blue flames. It wasn’t the reddish flames of the Eldjotnar. This was the cold blue of the frozen Hrimthurssar. Cold-fire licked along the blade and danced into the air. I could feel the sword growing colder in my hands. I could see Loki was taken aback by it. Confusion was clear on his face.
“How can this be?” he said, in amazement.
Using the flaming blade, I touched the back of my leg where
the blood was flowing the most. The searing pain was unbelievable, but it flash-froze the flesh and cauterized the wound. Then I repeated the maneuver on the front side. The pain was beyond excruciating, but I managed to take it without screaming. The smell of the frost-burned flesh filled the air and lingered in my nostrils. Loki looked horrified.
“Are you mad?” he said, his eyes wide with shock.
“Maybe,” I admitted.
The leg hurt worse than I could ever remember feeling before, but I was up and adrenalin was keeping me on my feet. I was going to finish this fight or die trying.
“Bring it on, asshole,” I snarled, bringing the flaming blades up in a defensive stance.
Warily, he began circling me. There was doubt in his eyes, for the first time. I liked that, too. Let him worry about what I was going to do next, for a change. Just so long as he didn’t figure out that I was running out of steam. In poker terms, I was bluffing my ass off.
With a fierce lunge, he launched an attack right at the center of my chest. I managed to knock the blade to the side and then spun hard to my left. Desperation fueled my attack as I pushed harder than I had ever pushed. I slid past him and sliced him on his back, from left shoulder to right hip. I heard him hiss in pain as I cleaved through armor and flesh, raking bone as the blade cauterized the wound along the path.
I nearly lost my footing as I continued the spin, taking me out of his range. Recovering quickly, I flung myself right back at him. He caught both of my swords on the shaft of his spear and held them fast. Instead of trying to match him muscle for muscle, I fell to my knees and dropped my shoulder. Using the sudden momentum shift, I hooked his spear and sent it flying away.
Before I could celebrate, he drove a knife into my ribcage, just below my right arm. The pain lanced into me like a bolt of lightning. I could feel blood welling up and seeping past the knife. I could also feel it filling my lung. I coughed and spat pinkish blood onto the ground. I knew that if he pulled that knife out, I was going to bleed out quickly. Driving the hilts of both swords into his face, I drove him away from me before he could pull the blade free or twist it to do more damage.
He took several steps back as I fell onto my back, fighting for air. I could see the wicked smile begin to form on his face as he moved around me and began heading for where his spear had fallen. As much as I wanted to keep him from recovering his weapon, there wasn’t much I could do about it. I didn’t have the strength to go after him. My adrenalin was fading and my strength was failing.
“This fight is over, Grant,” he said, with a mocking chuckle. “You fought well, for a mortal. But did you really ever expect this fight to end any other way. Your death was as predestined as Ragnarok, itself. The Gods are always reborn. You mortals always lose.”
As he bent over to pick up his spear, I knew he was right. This fight was over. I didn’t have anything left in the tank. Then everything seemed to lose focus and time seemed to stand still. I heard the Old Man’s voice in my head, once more.
“You really pissed him off good, son,” he said, cackling softly.
It was almost the exact same thing he had said to me the very first time he had come to me when I was a prisoner of the Freemen, hanging from the steel circle in the old barn. That sent my memory flashing quickly through all I had endured at their hands.
“It’s not your time,” he said, his voice more forceful, now.
Again, it was almost the same words he had spoken to me that first night in the barn. I was beginning to think that my life was flashing before me and I was about to die.
“All-Father…,” I managed to croak.
“It’s alright, my son,” he said, now revealing the true power of his voice. “The pain will soon be gone.”
“I’m dying,” I gasped.
“Yes,” he said. “You are. But how you choose to die speaks as much about you as how you choose to live.”
“What more can I do, All-Father?”
“Do you die on your back?” he asked, his face appearing before me in the haze. “Or do you die on your feet, like the warrior you were born to be?”
With that, he was gone. So were the pain and the blurred vision. I knew that this was going to be the end, but I was not going to lie there and wait for it. Focusing everything I had left, I rolled onto my left side and used the swords to push myself up onto my hands and knees. I spat foamy blood flecked with bubbles onto the ground and shook my head. Then I climbed up onto my knees.
Standing not ten feet away were Vigdis, Valdis and Spec-4. The twins were helping Spec-4 to stand, but they were all there to see this through to the bitter end. I could see tears flowing down Spec-4’s face. Taking that as my sign, I nodded at her solemnly and used the blades to get back to my feet.
“Not quite dead yet, I see,” Loki said, chuckling. “It is but a small matter. You soon shall be.”
“Let’s finish this,” I wheezed, my chest heaving for air.
“Very well,” said Loki.
I managed to bring my blades up in a weak defensive stance, but there wasn’t much strength left in my limbs. Whatever I had left, I was going to give it to him and hope for the best. Maybe I wasn’t going to win this fight, but he was damned sure going to remember my name when it was over.
“Wylie!” screamed Spec-4, nearly hysterical.
I didn’t turn to look at her. I knew the twins had to be holding her back. They couldn’t interfere with the outcome of this fight. If they did, the rest of Loki’s men would attack without hesitation.
Time slowed and my focus seemed to shift as my vision began to swim slightly. I watched as Loki raised his spear and leveled it at me, ready for the final attack. My footing faltered and I stumbled slightly forward. It was in that instant that he came for me with all the speed of an enraged God. His wrath was frightening to behold, but I was beyond caring. All I was focusing on was using the next few heartbeats to their maximum effect and dying on my feet. The rest was going to have to sort itself out.
Between blinks, Loki seemed to cover the distance between us and was on top of me before I registered his movement. I watched with a strange detachment as the spear struck the center of my chest and sank in to the end of the blade. I knew that there had to be almost a foot of steel protruding from my back like the fin of a shark. I felt the jagged blade tearing my ribcage and lungs apart.
Too much damage had been done and no amount of healing draught was going to close this wound. It was too big to heal. This was the mortal blow. Everything that had been done to me by Loki and all of the other wounds from my previous battles that weren’t completely healed had culminated in this. Combined, they were too severe to heal. There was no way I was going to recover from this.
“No!” screamed Spec-4, sobbing.
Lolling my head to the side, I glanced at her. I could see the wetness of her face and the ice blue of her eyes as she screamed soundlessly. I could no longer hear her voice. I was fading. Blood was now pouring out of my mouth like a river.
“Come home,” I heard the Old Man say.
“All-Father,” I gasped. “I ask for strength to finish this.”
Deep down inside, I felt the fire returning to my limbs. It was weak, but it was there. The wounds were still bleeding and I knew I was still going to die, but the strength was there to do the nigh impossible. If I could do this, it would be worthy of the ancient Sagas. It would be a death truly worthy of song.
With everything I had, I forced myself farther onto the blade. I could feel it ripping the rest of the way through my body and tearing my flesh as it broke free. Although I couldn’t see it, the blade was pulling my lungs free into what the Vikings used to call a Blood Eagle. The shaft of the spear began to slip through the massive wound with more ease than the blade. Loki looked shocked and seemed frozen with disbelief.
“This cannot be!” he screamed, in utter incredulousness.
I couldn’t hear him, but the words were plain to see on his lips. I was only too happy to disappoin
t him. It might be a small victory, but I was going to take it. In fact, I was going to finish this fight on my feet. Not even Loki could take that away from me.
My lungs were barely functioning. I felt like a fish gasping for breath as it lay dying on the shore. Despite that, I felt no fear. I was completely focused on finishing this before the lack of oxygen and blood finished me. I had only seconds left before it would be all over, no matter the outcome. Suffocation or exsanguination was all that was left for me.
As I got within a few feet of him, I folded my arms over the shaft of the spear so that my blades were facing out and away from me; my left blade out to my right side and my right blade out to my left. The look in his eyes told me that he still couldn’t believe I was still alive, much less fighting him for every inch of ground.
“Aldrnari!” I wheezed.
The blades erupted into azure flames as I locked my eye with Loki’s.
“Go fuck yourself,” I rasped, coughing blood and small pieces of lung tissue.
Before he could say anything else, I uncrossed my arms with all the strength that was left in me. The blades slid along each other like the edges of a pair of scissors, rasping steel as they crossed each other. The look of horror froze on Loki’s face as they sliced cleanly through his neck and his head fell away from his body.
As the shaft of the spear fell from his nerveless fingers, so did I. I hit the ground but didn’t feel the impact. In fact, I didn’t feel anything anymore. I let go of my swords and tried to roll over onto my back so that I could look upon the sky and see the lightning streaking the clouds. The shaft was still stuck through me and prevented me from rolling completely onto my back. With the last of my strength, I pulled it free and dropped it to the ground. Then I collapsed onto my back.
I was on slightly elevated ground, so I could see the red-gold glow of the funeral pyre for the city of Springfield; the place that had been my home for so long. There was a word for that kind of thing. It was called Balefire. Lightning flew across the sky and I could see Jovian sized bolts striking the growing cone of what was undoubtedly going to be a very tall volcano amid the Ozark Highlands. From the way it was going, lava would cover most, if not all of Nathanael County and the bulk of the areas to the south. Since the elevation of our settlement was slightly higher than Springfield had been, I had little worry that the lava flow would reach that far.
Ragnarok Rising: Desolation: Book Five of the Ragnarok Rising Saga Page 47
