“Do you know anything of the master?” asked Swi?gar.
“Only that he is powerful, cruel, and commands much fear to rule the yfelgop.”
“It is Gad,” Ealdstan said and sneered, startling the others. “Gad Gristgrenner, the gastbona,” he spat, as if each word were a mouthful of bile. “It is him. He was . . . the worst of all the old enemies.”
“Yet I’ve not heard of him,” said Swi?gar.
“Nor I,” said Ecgbryt.
“He is cunning. It has been many years since he has trod the earth, but now his power grows and he has become bold.”
“I do not wonder-with so little to challenge him,” Ecgbryt remarked darkly.
“What would you have us do?” Ealdstan replied. “Run out of the gates and smite down the enemy? Our numbers are few, Ecgbryt Hard-Axe.”
“There are over one hundred sleeping knights underneath this very tower-the finest warriors that have ever existed! What have numbers ever meant to Ealdstan the Ancient?”
“Do not goad me. Of might and wisdom,” Ealdstan hissed,
“we have ever exercised the rarer and more precious of those virtues in Ni?ergeard.”
“Might is no virtue,” Ecgbryt knocked back, “but determination is!”
“Remember your place,” Ealdstan rasped, his face contracting, spittle flying from his lips. “Remember it, or I shall name you Hardhead to go with your virtues! Hardhead the Hack-Hand!”
“When ?lfred fought off the Danes at ?thelney, he would-”
“Your precious ?lfred is dead!” Ealdstan spat. “I buried him myself! So you will have to continue along as best you can with who he has left behind!”
Ecgbryt smoldered under this reprimand. Ealdstan was now incensed. He bent forward in his chair, breathing quickly, eyes flashing in their deep sockets. He calmed, gradually, and leaned back again, pinching out a long sigh.
“Compared to the battle that is to come,” Ealdstan grumbled, his voice suddenly as sharp as the sound of stone scraping against stone, “this is not even a scuffle. Armies greater and more frightsome than we can comprehend are gathering in the dark corners of this rock-armies that may crush us into powder. That is the conflict we must cast our minds to-not this insignificant tussle. The grand cataclysm is approaching.”
“Very well,” said Swi?gar. “Then what must we do to prepare?”
Ealdstan cleared his throat and suddenly his voice was weak again and faltering. “I have been reading . . . studying the manuscripts.” His hands started to move and he shifted some of the papers around the table uncertainly. “It is hard to know where . . . current events fall . . . the prophecies seem . . . shuffled now . . . accuracy is not-accuracy has been . . . lost.”
“To hell with the prophecies,” said Swi?gar. “You know of the coming conflict-the cataclysm. What is to be done?”
“This age,” moaned Ealdstan. “This age is so cold . . . hearts are bitter and guts are bilious. There are no more heroes. There are none to help us from this era-none with strength in their soul to do what needs be done.
“What is to be done?” Ealdstan repeated, turning his grey eyes to Swi?gar. “Only this: pray that we have done enough in the past to be ready for the future. There is nothing further to prepare. The people of this time have forsaken us.”
“Are you certain that it is not you who have forsaken them?”
Swi?gar replied.
Ealdstan’s lips clenched together tightly as he ground his teeth.
Daniel’s and Freya’s pale faces looked around the room. Ecgbryt glowered at the centre of the table, fuming. Swi?gar sat with his chin stuck out and his fists clenched in front of him. Modwyn’s eyes met theirs, and for the first time, they saw living emotion in them-emotions of sorrow and dismay.
It was Ecgbryt who spoke next. “Ni?ergeard under siege is not a scuffle. When was the beacon extinguished? I’ve seen men fight without an arm, but never without a head. In the war we wage, all battles are vital, and action must be taken. If the yfelgop opposition is truly inconsequential, then let us rid ourselves of them and press our advantage. I propose we make a foray to test their strength and numbers. Information may be gleaned that could shed more light on events.”
“If! May! Could!” Ealdstan spat testily. “You have no conception of Gad’s powers! He’d swat you away like a child fanning a fly.” He leaned forward and made brusque sweeping motions with his hand, then settled back peevishly. “Very well. Make your attack. In the event that something is found of which I have no current knowledge, please . . . feel free to share.”
“We have your permission, then?”
“Permission? Why should you want that when you will not accept my counsel? Permission? To do what? Risk death and capture, simply to smell the enemy’s sweat? Yes, by all means. Go. Leave me in peace. Don’t leave the doors unbarred too long.”
Ealdstan stood, and the others rose with him.
“Thank you, wys f?der,” said Swi?gar, bowing his head.
“Be gone.”
The others muttered similar thanks as they started to file out of the room. Daniel and Freya hung back, the last to leave, standing in the doorway a little bewildered.
“Wait a second!” Freya blurted nervously, calling after the others. “Wait! We didn’t come here for this, Mr. Ealdstan,” she said, turning to him, “sir, Daniel and I-we came here because we want to go home, but we couldn’t because the tunnel was sealed up and we didn’t really have a choice. We don’t belong here. We belong at home, with our parents. Can you please show us the way out of here?”
Ealdstan listened to her with his head bowed over a dusty parchment so old it was cracking. As Freya finished, he raised his head and blinked at her. “Out? You cannot leave this place . . . Weren’t you listening? It’s far too dangerous. You’d be killed or worse.”
“Modwyn just said that they hadn’t found all the exits yet, so there’re tunnels-passages that those yfelgop things haven’t discovered yet. We came along the river. We slipped in, I know that we can slip out again. Maybe we could-”
“There is no safe passage. No escape.” He bent his head back down to the table and finished by muttering, “If there is no escape for us, why should there be any for you?”
“But we’re not a part of this-this world. None of this matters to us-we’re not important. They might not bother even chasing us.”
“No.”
“But-”
“LEAVE!”
Freya was shocked-the blood drained from her face, leaving her cold, frozen to the spot. She felt Daniel tugging at her arm and whispering her name, but she pulled her arm out of his hands-this was too important to back down from. “We want to leave!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “But you won’t let us! You have knights! You have magic! You have secret tunnels! Let us go!”
Ealdstan’s face twisted into an ugly mask of spite. “Stupid little brown-skinned girl,” he sneered through a clenched jaw. In several unexpectedly quick strides, he approached Freya. His ancient hand gripped her arm and with surprising strength he flung her out of the doorway and into the hall. She staggered a little and then ungracefully fell on her rear.
“Hey!” Daniel shouted. “Don’t do that! Don’t do that!”
Ealdstan ignored him and grabbed the edge of the large metal door and slammed it shut with a fluid motion. And because Daniel was still standing in the doorway, he took some of the force on his shoulder and one of the door’s rivets punched into his arm. He closed his eyes as excruciating pain flooded his body. He grabbed his arm and swore with all the worst words he knew. He didn’t think he’d ever been hit that hard. He kicked and pounded the door, which was so heavy and strong that it hardly made a noise.
“Oi, you!” Daniel shouted between pounds. “Ealdstan! Get out of here, you coward! Why not take me on, instead of pushing around a girl? Oi! Ealdstan! Ealdstan! ”
Daniel pounded and kicked for another moment, until his hands and feet ached. Then he turned and saw that Modw
yn and the knights were standing around Freya. Ecgbryt must have helped her up-his hand was still on her shoulder. Freya was looking at him with wide, watery eyes.
“Come, lifiendes,” Swi?gar said. “We have matters to discuss.”
He then turned and they all started down the hall.
Grimacing, Daniel came alongside Freya. “Don’t worry, Freya,” he said. “We’ll find a way to get home-soon.”
4
They all started down the stairs in silence. Modwyn led them to a room on the fifth level that was nothing more than a completely square chamber with carved ledges in the wall that were used for seating. There was a low metal table in the middle of the room. Modwyn pulled a rope and a small bell tinkled in the distance.
“How long has Ealdstan been thus?” Swi?gar asked.
The door opened and Cnafa stepped into the room. “Bring a map of the Ni?erland and send Godmund here,” she instructed, and then turned to Swi?gar. “Ealdstan has been in such spirits for some time, even before the siege,” she replied in a hushed voice. “Listless and melancholic. We do not see him for months on end, and when we do, he passes by without acknowledgment or sign, leaving us to wonder if we have, in truth, seen him at all.”
“I am sorry that my temper overcame me, brother,” Ecgbryt apologised. “You should not have let me hound the man.”
“No, it was well that you did. I doubt many have challenged him of late. And I agree-why not simply wake a band of knights to come and break the siege?” Swi?gar asked gruffly. “Drive the nasty filth back into the deep tunnels. The solution is so simple that it’s maddening.”
“I would challenge him, were it my place,” stated Modwyn.
“It would not have been right,” agreed Swi?gar. “Ecgbryt and I can be excused our rudeness-”
The door reopened and Godmund entered with a long scroll, which he placed on the table. He unfurled it to show a map of the underground realm, a large oblong with little branches that represented tunnels leading off the sides. Ni?ergeard was marked in the middle, a small knot of structures and streets. They started talking about where the yfelgop army was thickest, where they had come from, and many other details. Daniel watched with fascination as the small military strike was planned and tactics discussed.
“We have no idea where their main force is,” Godmund said.
“We suspect it may be here”-he placed a hand on a section of the map-“but who is to say that they do not move it, or that they are split equally in different areas?”
“What are their main routes into the plain?” Swi?gar asked.
“There is no way to know that either. Seeing that you encountered them, it is possible that they have infiltrated most of the upper tunnels-there would be little enough to prevent the beasts from overrunning them. But do they circulate randomly? Are most of them here? Are they gathered somewhere else? How can we know?”
“None of that matters right now,” came an unexpected voice from among them. All eyes turned to Freya, who was standing near the table, looking down on the map.
“We won’t learn everything in just one raid,” Freya continued, her voice quavering slightly. “The important thing is to test their numbers, their strength, and their reaction after that-that will tell us a lot. Then we can judge the appropriate measures to take, once we have evaluated our resources. Then we can go home, you can find a way to break the siege, and so on.”
Ecgbryt smiled grimly and placed a huge hand on Freya’s shoulder. “The girl has a good head for these matters,” he said.
“I just want to go home,” Freya said, trying to avoid Daniel’s gawking stare.
Swi?gar frowned. “Then it’s decided,” he said. “We will raid them, leaving through the main gates here.” He brought his hand down on an area of the map. “Enough talking. That is what we will do next.”
5
In addition to Swi?gar and Ecgbryt, the raiding party consisted of Godmund and three of his best men, his champions. To Daniel they looked like superheroes-stocky with a lot of weight in the chest and shoulders. One of them had a red bushy beard and long plaited hair; his armour was made of medium-sized brass rings, interlocked with one another. One man had black hair and skin that was still slightly olive colour, despite being very pale. The third was a man taller than any knight they had seen so far. He was so tall he looked slightly clumsy and uncomfortable. His whitish-blond hair was uncombed and matted, like a sheepdog’s shaggy coat. He carried a spear in the same hand as his shield and casually gripped a massive war hammer in the other.
They were all big and strong, and although their dress varied, they all wore helmets made of iron with a sculpted figure of an ox on the crest. The three new knights moved sluggishly and creakily, slower than the others. Daniel and Freya wondered if they had just been woken-and if they could really stand up to the erratic frenzy of the yfelgopes, especially if there were as many out there as they all imagined.
And then, with no more preparations to be made, they were ready to depart. The six knights mounted their stallions and set off through the city at a gentle canter. The torchlight played on their armour, making it sparkle and shine; the gold tracing reflected the light brilliantly. It looked as if living fire were flowing through the metal.
Freya and Daniel followed, walking behind the six riders, and were soon joined by others. Ni?ergearders working in smithies, guards in their barracks, and masons in their workshops, seeing the knights pass by, dropped what they were doing, stood, and hurried to fall into step behind them. The silent procession had swelled to over fifty people when the knights reached the large city gate. They stood for a few moments making final preparations: adjusting the harnesses of their mounts, shifting weapons in their hands, and whispering short prayers.
Godmund, Shield Thane of Ni?ergeard and leader of the war host, motioned to two guardsmen on either side of the gate. The gigantic hinges started to creak. The large entrance opened a crack, and then- A bell was heard in the distance-it was a deep, solid toll coming from the other end of the city. The crowd tensed and started to mutter in confusion.
“What’s going on?” Freya asked. Daniel shook his head.
The effect of the bell on the knights was instantaneous and dramatic. Several of them jerked back hard on their horses’ reigns, causing them to rear upwards and turn around. “Stop the gate!” yelled Godmund to the guard above him. “Shut it!”
The knights leaned forward in their saddles, scanning the buildings in front of them, ready to gallop back into the city.
“Hold!” cried Swi?gar. “Hold! Wait for the horns!”
The gate shut behind the knights. Godmund turned to Ecgbryt.
“Get everyone to the Tall Tower!” he shouted. Ecgbryt trotted through the crowd that opened a path for him.
“Everyone, this way!” Ecgbryt bellowed, leading them back into the city.
“What’s going on?” Daniel shouted.
“Ni?ergeard is being attacked,” someone answered behind him. “That bell tolls a breach at the south wall.”
Just then, the sound of a high-pitched horn was heard from a far corner of the city. The other knights spurred their horses and galloped off along the smooth stone streets and were soon out of view.
“Hurry now,” Ecgbryt said, shepherding the crowd. “Move quickly. I do not know how they breached the wall without being seen, but I suspect devilry!”
6
Daniel and Freya tried their level best to stay with the crowd as they fled for the safety of the Langtorr. The streets, buildings, and city guards blurred past them as they struggled to keep up with Ecgbryt.
Horns sounded from other parts of the city. Freya and Daniel kept their eyes on the Tall Tower, remembering its thick iron doors. Freya grabbed Daniel’s shoulder and pointed up at the tower. Following her finger, Daniel saw a flicker of bright red and yellow in one of the windows several stories up. It was Ealdstan, gripping the window frame, with one foot on its ledge. As they watched, he launched himself forward a
nd fell, his robes billowing and flapping around him like flames on a burning arrow. He quickly dropped out of sight, below the roofline of the houses. Daniel tried to shout to Ecgbryt, but it was no use, he couldn’t make his voice heard over the clamor.
They had just turned a corner and had their first glimpse of the Tall Tower’s gates when the yfelgopes caught up with them. The creatures had scaled the buildings and were jumping from roof to roof towards the centre of the city, out of the reach of the guards.
Nine of the creatures dropped into the road ahead of the crowd. Ecgbryt halted his horse and ushered the fleeing townspeople down a side street. The yfelgopes, each of them sprouting sharp bits of metal from joints and fingers, ran towards them, snarling and barking.
From around the corner of a building, Daniel and Freya watched Ecgbryt charge forward, galloping into one end of the line of attackers. With his spear couched in his arm, he drove into the swarming knot of yfelgopes, skewering a creature on his left with his spear and batting another two away with the edge of his shield. Releasing his spear, he drew his axe and sliced cleanly through the neck of an yfelgop that was slashing at his leg and stirrup. His horse reared underneath him as one of the twisted men raked at the horse’s flank. Ecgbryt kept his saddle and brought his axe down into the attacker’s head with a juicy thok!
The yfelgopes left standing became even more enraged and bestial. With quick, darting movements, they surrounded the lone knight. Ecgbryt reared his horse to make a break out of the ring when a shout rang out from a side street.
Five of the city guards, led by Breca, the guard at the Western Well, swept upon the invaders in a pale, gleaming fury. Their speed was controlled and effective-every blow that fell was either crippling or deadly. In a very short time the yfelgopes were dispatched.
“Hwaet, Breca,” Ecgbryt said, addressing the guardsman.
“What news?”
“The wall has been breached. Few have entered-very few. It is possible that this attack is a feint.”
The Realms Thereunder aet-1 Page 14
