Falcon Warrior (The Swordswoman Book 3)

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Falcon Warrior (The Swordswoman Book 3) Page 7

by Malcolm Archibald


  The thing rose from the ice. Three times the height of the tallest man, it was composed entirely of ice, with the shape of a human and eyes deep and black and featureless.

  'You must be the Ice king,' Melcorka forced any fear from her voice. 'It is about time you showed yourself.' She ignored the group of men that clustered around the thing. Whoever they were, they could wait. She had come to fight the Ice king and that was what she would do.

  The great voice boomed out again with the sheer volume of sound sending Skraelings and Norsemen cringing backward. 'I control all this land. I was here before man and I will be here long after man has gone.'

  'I am not man,' Melcorka held herself erect. 'I am woman!'

  She spared a glance at the five men who stood around the Ice king. They were nearly as tall as the Norsemen and dressed in clothes the like of which Melcorka had never seen. Each man wore a surcoat emblazoned with the same coat of arms that had been displayed above the doors of the ice castle. The pouncing falcon looked even more predatory given its present company.

  'Kill her,' one of the men ordered. He shared the same tawny colouring as his companions but was even taller, with handsome features. 'Kill her and then kill all the others.'

  'You may not find that so easy,' Melcorka warned.

  Stepping forward, she replaced her dirk under her arm and hefted Defender two-handed. The Ice king swept an arm toward her in a sideways motion that would have knocked her flat if she had not jumped back. She sliced with Defender, heard a crunch and saw two of the ice king's fingers fall off.

  'I'll kill you piece by piece,' Melcorka said as the ice king roared and staggered back, looking at his injured hand.

  'Kill her. Kill her now!' the men ordered.

  The Ice king stepped forward, lifted his right foot and stomped downward, missing Melcorka by a bare yard. She thrust Defender into his foot and pulled it out quickly as he bellowed in pain and jumped back, shaking his foot. In place of blood, clear water gushed out to quickly freeze in the cold air.

  'Why do you wish to kill me?' Melcorka asked.

  'You are my enemy!' The Ice king tried another clumsy stomp. Again Melcorka avoided his foot. She stabbed Defender into his ankle.

  'We are not your enemy!' Melcorka retrieved Defender and withdrew a step. She heard the hiss of arrows as the Skraelings and Norsemen unleashed a volley. Some stuck into the Ice king; others bounced harmlessly off his body to clatter onto the ice around him.

  'You are going to melt all my ice and make my land green!' The ice king lifted his hand and a column of ice appeared beside Melcorka. He blew and it toppled toward her. She jumped aside as it smashed into a thousand jagged pieces.

  'We are not going to do that!' Melcorka said. 'We have no intention of taking your ice!'

  Another ice column formed beside her, and then an entire wall of ice surrounded her. Melcorka hacked into it with Defender.

  'You called my land Greenland!' The Ice king said. 'You want to make it green.'

  'Kill her!' the men at his side ordered. 'Kill them all before they take away your ice and make everything warm and green so you have no home.'

  'It was them!' Melcorka said. 'These men told you these lies!'

  The five with the colourful coats of arms emblazoned on their clothes all pointed to Melcorka. 'Kill that woman,' they ordered. 'She is your enemy!'

  The Ice king looked down at her and caressed the stumps of his fingers. 'I will kill you,' he said.

  'I don't want to hurt you, Ice king,' Melcorka said. 'These men are causing trouble between you and us. You lived in peace with your neighbours for years before they came. Who are they?'

  'Torngit!' Almick's voice floated toward her. 'They are the torngit!'

  'What is the torngit?' Melcorka asked.

  'The foreign men! The torngit are men from abroad that live in the ice hills. They do not belong here.'

  Melcorka nodded. 'Ice king! We wish you no harm!' She ducked as the king threw a huge block of ice at her. The Skraelings replied with another volley of arrows. One of the Norsemen shouted and ran forward with his axe, only for the Ice king to stand on him. A red smear spread across the frozen ground.

  'Enough!' Melcorka yelled. 'There has been enough senseless killing!' Charging forward, she leaped over a sudden chasm that the Ice king created and landed in the midst of the tawny-skinned men. 'Who are you, torngit?' Grabbing the first by the throat, she shoved him backward. 'Why are you spreading these lies about the Norsemen?'

  'Kill her!' The other torngit men shouted in unison. One lifted a short spear with a stone head and thrust it at her. Melcorka parried the blow with ease, cut the man's arm off and killed him with a backhanded swing.

  'Who are you?' she asked again.

  'Don't kill me! Don't kill me!' The torngit she held squealed, trying to prise her grip free.

  Another of the torngit threw his spear at Melcorka. She twisted aside so it hit her captive instead. He screamed, squirming and trying to pluck the spear from his back. Dropping him, Melcorka killed the spear thrower with a simple slash to his throat. The surviving erect torngit drew a short dagger until Erik knocked it out of his hand and lifted his sword.

  'Don't kill him!' Melcorka's shout was too late as half a dozen Norse swords plunged into the man. Only the wounded torngit was left, moaning as he held the protruding spear.

  'Ice king!' Melcorka yelled. 'We will not hurt you! You have my word and I am Melcorka of Alba!'

  The Ice king stood static, still nursing his injured hand.

  Kneeling beside the wounded torngit, Melcorka took hold of the spear. 'You are going to die,' she told him. 'If I take the spear out, your blood with gush out and you will die quickly. If I leave it in, you will die slower, but you will still die and in infinitely more pain. If you tell me who you are and why you turned the Ice king against us, then your gods will be pleased that you told the truth and you will go to your heaven. If you lie you will go to a place of eternal torment. The choice is yours.'

  The man pointed upward, where the sun was easing aside a cloud. 'My god is watching me now.'

  'Bel.' Melcorka said. 'The sun god. Do you worship the sun god?'

  'The sun,' the man said softly. 'The sun is waiting for me.'

  'Then please him,' Melcorka said. 'Tell me the truth so you do not go to him with a lie upon your soul. Where are you from and why turn the Ice king against us?'

  'I am from the Empire of Dhegia!' The torngit said proudly. Pushing Melcorka's hand away, he struggled to stand. 'My people are going to expand over the entire world. I am just preparing the way.' Temporarily ignoring the spear in his back, he lifted both hands. 'We came from the west and the south and will take over this whole land and then go onward!'

  The Ice king's deep voice thundered. 'This is my land. This is my ice kingdom. Nobody will take it from me.'

  'My king commands vaster armies than you can ever imagine,' the torngit said. 'He wants you as an ally. If you turn against him he will destroy you.'

  'I will turn the sea to ice and freeze his armies,' the Ice king boomed.

  'My sun god will melt you, Ice man!' The torngit boasted until the ice king lifted him in one hand.

  'I die to serve you, Wamblee!' The torngit shouted, and then the Ice king pulled his head from his body and tossed both parts in opposite directions.

  'We won't get any more from him, then,' Melcorka remarked. 'Well, Ice king, now you know that your friends were not friends at all, will you believe me that the Norse or the Skraelings do not intend melting your ice to turn this land green.'

  'I need assurance,' the Ice king said.

  'I am Erik of Frakkoksfjord,' Erik said. 'I give you my word that we are not going to melt your ice and turn your land green.'

  'If you do,' the great voice boomed, 'I will send my amoraks to kill your livestock and turn your streams to ice. I will freeze you out. I will have my bears hunt your men and my walrus sink your boats.'

  'That is agreed,' Erik said.

>   'We have a bargain then,' Melcorka said. The Norse will not turn the land green and the Ice king will not destroy their settlement.

  'We have a bargain,' the Ice king said. He looked at Melcorka through those deep dark eyes and slowly merged with the ice all around him, leaving nothing to show that he had ever been there. Melcorka looked around. The bodies of the men from Dhegia lay side by side with the Norseman, staining the ice with their blood.

  'Well, now we know where our iceberg woman came from,' Bradan pointed at the falcon symbol on the Dhegians' clothes. 'That's the same one as she wore.'

  Melcorka wondered how she could have been so stupid. 'I thought I recognised it; I did not remember where I had seen it.'

  'The Empire of Dhegia,' Bradan said. 'And they want to take over the world.'

  'I wonder where it is, and what it is like.' Melcorka said. 'An empire that can control an Ice king and has women travelling inside icebergs must be worth visiting.'

  'An empire that wants to control the entire world may be best avoided.' Bradan said quietly. 'They don't seem to be the friendliest of people.'

  Melcorka produced the head-band that the woman from the iceberg had worn. She did not know what compelled her to wrap it around her forehead and allow the fringed ends to fall to her shoulders, but she did. She smiled at Bradan and then gasped.

  She was in a city so large she could not see the end, with great sloping pyramids of grassy earth rising in every direction, surmounted with tall buildings. Other buildings were smaller, beautifully thatched and neat as anything she had ever seen. Bare-chested people walked all around, bowing when they came to her. There were tradesmen, craftsmen, and warriors with elaborate costumes. Some carried spears, others clubs with heavy stone heads, elaborately carved.

  She belonged here. She was wanted here. She was important here. This was home.

  'Melcorka?' Bradan was looking at her curiously. 'Are you all right?'

  She snatched the head-band off. 'Of course,' she said, wondering what had happened.

  Bradan raised his eyebrows. 'I'm glad to hear it,' he said. 'We'd best get back to Frakkoksfjord.'

  Chapter Six

  It was their second feast in the great central hall of Frakkoksfjord. With Frakkok and Erik at the head of the table, the Norsemen lined up on either side and Melcorka and Bradan at the foot. Melcorka listened to the rough Norse voices singing their songs of battle and wondered how this happened. Not long before she had fought a Norse invasion of Scotland, sword to sword against thousands of these pagan warriors and now she was fighting and eating side by side with them.

  'I hear that rather than fight the Skraelings, you joined up with them, and you allowed this Ice king to live as well.' Frakkok's voice was as carping and unpleasant as ever.

  'We had no need to fight the Skraelings,' Erik said. 'Melcorka arranged an alliance with them instead. The Ice king thought we were a threat to him. These men from the Empire of Dhegia told him lies about us.'

  Frakkok shook her head. 'So you decided to avoid yet another fight. Your father chose the warrior's path and died a man. You seem destined to live forever and die swaddled in soft wool in front of a nice warm fire.'

  'There was no opportunity to fight, Mother.' Erik said. 'The men from the Empire of Dhegia were killed.'

  Frakkok stopped with a forkful of food half- way to her mouth. 'How many of them did your sword taste?'

  'I was there,' Erik avoided the question.

  'How many did you kill?' Frakkok repeated.

  'None,' Erik admitted.

  'None.' Frakkok repeated scornfully. 'As I thought. You are no warrior and I doubt it you are even a man. Shall I find some little boys to warm your bed before you enter? Some nice smooth little boys that won't task you too much?'

  Melcorka looked away. She did not wish to witness this ritual humiliation.

  'Your cute friend is not looking very happy,' Bradan said quietly. 'Frakkok is baiting him for some other reason. She is playing with him for her own ends, whatever those ends are.'

  Melcorka nodded. 'She is manipulative,' she said. 'She is a witch in her own way. Hush now, and listen.'

  'I am not that way inclined, Mother.' Erik's face was as red as the most brilliant sunset.

  'I am not sure about that.' Frakkok said. 'You avoid enemies and do not even recognise when they appear.'

  'Your cute friend is thinking,' Bradan chewed on a mouthful of fish. 'He is wondering how to get his mother's approval. Ah: he has had a thought; he is talking now.'

  'If this Empire of Dhegia wants to take over the world, then it will be a threat to us here,' Erik said slowly. 'We will have to defend ourselves against it.'

  Frakkok's grunt was audible around the whole hall. 'So you intend to wait for these mysterious Dhegians to attack us, do you?'

  'What else can we do?'

  Frakkok leaned forward. 'What would your father do?' Her voice cut like a steel blade.

  Erik looked away, unable to meet her eyes. It would have taken a sharp sword to slice through the thick silence at that table as everybody waited for Erik to reply.

  'Father would have attacked the Dhegian Empire,' he said with a sudden smile of inspiration.

  There was something like a collective sigh from the men. Melcorka knew that Erik had just cast the dice of his own fate. Now it depended on the numbers that rolled out.

  'Does his son have something of his father inside him?' Frakkok's voice was quiet yet audible to everybody in that hall. 'Or will be toast beside his fire and ponder what luxuries he should fill his house with?'

  There could only be one answer to that. To his credit, Erik did not hesitate. 'I will follow father's path,' he said, still smiling. 'Wherever it leads.'

  'That's the answer I hoped for.' For the first time since Melcorka had met her, Frakkok seemed proud of her son.

  'I am going too,' Melcorka said softly. 'I must see this Empire of Dhegia. Are you with me, Bradan?'

  'Do you need to ask?' Bradan sounded slightly wistful.

  'No.' Melcorka shook her head.

  'You must make arrangements,' Frakkok said. 'How many men are you taking; how will you find this place; what will you do when you get there…'

  There was a sudden babble of noise as all the men at the table gave their advice in loud voices, accompanied by raised knives and much banging of fists.

  'Wait!' Erik stood up. 'Listen to me!'

  The noise continued, growing in volume as each man sought to make his point heard. Lifting a tankard, Erik crashed it down on the table, shaking the platters and nearly breaking the fingers of the unfortunate man who sat on his right.

  'I am in charge here!' That statement rolled around the hall. 'I will decide what we will do.'

  The noise subsided, save for a few murmured comments and a single laugh.

  'What's amusing you?' Erik asked.

  'You have no experience in war.' The speaker stroked his grey beard. 'You have had one small skirmish with the Skraeling, who are a despicable enemy, and now you intend leading an army against what may be a huge empire? Now that is amusing. You need men of valour, men who have seen battle.'

  'Do you mean men like you?' Erik asked.

  'I mean men like me,' the greybeard said.

  Erik glanced at Frakkok, who held his gaze and said nothing. She was allowing Erik to make his own decisions.

  There was another silence. The grey- bearded man laughed again, with two of his companions joining in, shaking their heads.

  Melcorka watched, wondering how Erik would cope with this first challenge to his authority. She did not dislike the young Norseman; quite the reverse indeed.

  'Come on Erik,' she said, so softly that only Bradan could hear. 'You're in charge here. Prove it.' She felt Frakkok's gaze on her and looked up. The Pictish woman was staring at her, dark eyes vicious.

  'Well, Ragnog,' Erik dropped his eyes. 'You do have a point there.'

  Melcorka was not alone in feeling disappointment as Erik sat back down.<
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  'I do lack experience in major battles.' Erik continued to speak from his seat.

  Ragnog the greybeard laughed again and belched coarsely.

  'But I have something that you lack.' Erik said and the smile was back. 'I have the sense not to challenge the leader of Frakkoksfjord!' He roared out the last phrase and the hall came alive again.

  Melcorka put a hand on Bradan's arm and squeezed, encouraging Erik with her thoughts. 'Go on Erik,' she said softly. 'Show that you are a leader or Ragnog and his ilk will always be contemptuous of you.' She looked around, searching the faces. The hall was split between those who supported Erik and those who openly jeered at him. It was not quite an even split, but most of the older men supported Ragnog while the younger, the youths and those who could not yet shave, were in Erik's camp.

  Lifting his tankard, Erik threw it directly at Ragnog, who caught it one- handed and placed it back on the table.

  'I will accept that challenge,' Ragnog said. 'And I will kill you like a dog!' He leered at Frakkok, 'if I have your ladyship's permission?'

  Frakkok lifted her hand. 'You do not need my permission to kill,' she said. 'Or to be killed.'

  Melcorka could nearly taste the tension as the Norsemen waited for Erik's response.

  'Then we fight,' he said at length.

  An outburst of noise filled the great hall as men and women shouted in anticipation and pounded the tables with fists, knife-hilts, and tankards. Immediately Erik said the words the men began to shout who they believed would win, with the younger warriors yelling for Erik and the older men roaring that Ragnog's experience would win the day.

  'Without Erik,' Bradan murmured, 'there will be no heir apparent in this settlement. There will be a civil war to decide who will be the next leader.'

  'That is the Norse way,' Melcorka said.

  'We should leave if that happens.'

  'If Erik is killed, we will be on Catriona within the hour,' Melcorka agreed.

  'When shall I kill you?' Ragnog asked casually. 'I would like to finish my meal first. I prefer to fight on a full belly.'

 

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