by J D Franx
“Perhaps,” she whispered, fading fast.
“You!” he shouted to one of the guards. “Get her and Vada to the healers, now. Eira is to be kept under guard but not harmed in any way until you hear otherwise from myself, Drengr, or Brenna. Make sure Gunder knows his daughter is back in case...”
One of the two guards carefully lifted Eira from Engier’s arms and helped her into camp while another guard slowly eased Vada up into his arms and followed. Engier stared after them, hoping they’d both be all right. The Skeyth wizard was starting to earn his respect with her resilience and stubbornness and Gunder was a War-Blood Rynstar, his daughter’s return would put the man’s mind at ease.
“Perhaps Eira does have some Northman blood in her after all,” he chuckled.
“Ready, my lord?” Drengr asked, bringing him back to their task.
“Yes,” Engier replied. “Let’s move.”
Chapter Ten
OROTAQ TERRITORY
Engier burst through the trees into a small, open meadow covered in grass and flowers. He stopped suddenly, with his hands out in warning to Drengr and Sahar as his eyes roamed the scene of carnage. A massive Orotaq warrior pulled his black sword from Sabjorn’s chest and the wizard fell in the grass. The stillness of death soon followed. The rest of the twenty-strong hunting party and the few warriors who accompanied Brenna lay broken and scattered across the meadow. At first, he thought all of his people were dead, but a light groan and movement from a few feet to his right caught his attention. Jarl Brenna shoved a corpse off of her legs and struggled to her feet using the sword in her left hand as a crutch while her right arm hung useless at an awkward angle. He frowned at the dislocated shoulder, concerned about whether she could still fight.
“To fight them is to die, Engier,” she gasped, and then tossed a small rune bag to Drengr. “Sabjorn won’t need them. These bastards are worse than any berserker I have ever faced. Even the aboriginal skinwalkers from the south aren’t as vicious.”
“Then we shall feast in Valhalla this night, Jarl Brenna.”
“We are no longer in Sokn,” she moaned. Stepping to his side, she faced the four giants with him. “To die here, if this is Utgard, is to be lost in Niflheim forever.”
Engier scoffed, but his focus never left the four giants a short distance away, even when the leader roared at him in a language he didn’t understand and stomped his foot.
“You didn’t take down even one?” Engier whispered in disbelief from the side of his mouth.
“No,” she said, without a trace of shame. It let him know she and her party were the first Northmen to actively engage the Orotaq metal on metal and in full battle, only to get slaughtered. “By Tyr’s blade, I swear, we tried. You yourself might kill one Engier, if it’s a one on one fight. Our blades do hurt them, but they don’t fight like us. They shift and slide back and forth, switching positions. We need to get out of here alive and pass on what we know to the clans.”
Engier only had seconds to decide and a quick study of this new threat helped make up his mind. The giants’ leader was a massive man who not only towered over Engier’s seven feet, but also outweighed him by several hundred pounds. A deep slash wound most likely caused by Brenna’s runed sword crossed the Orotaq leader’s chest and flayed open the big man’s flesh. Blood ran down his stomach and onto his reinforced leather pants, but it didn’t seem to bother him in the least, let alone slow him down. Corded muscle rippled under the pale blue flesh of all four Orotaq while the surface of their skin was covered in ornate symbols that had been applied with a hot iron. Unlike the few brands on the young Orotaq warrior the Skeyth killed upon their arrival, these men were covered from knuckles to neck in raised brand welts. Only the gods knew what the thick scars meant, but it showed him the depth of suffering his new enemy could endure.
“Light them up, Drengr,” Engier whispered.
“No!” Brenna gasped quietly. “Sabjorn’s rune magic had no effect on them before he died.”
“We need a distraction to get out of here, Brenna, if nothing else,” Engier hissed lightly.
“There’s only one way,” she answered and turned to stare at the orange marks covering Drengr’s body and the bloodstone runes in the pouch around his neck.
“You can’t be serious,” the wizard said, as the shock of her suggestion opened his eyes wide.
Engier nodded his agreement. “We’d be sentencing more souls to torment, Brenna.”
“What of our souls?” she asked, wavering on her feet. “What of the souls of all our people these blue bastards will kill when they find our camp? It’s the only way, Engier. We can’t defeat them and we cannot outrun them.”
The giant’s leader barked at them, but Engier didn’t understand the creature’s gruff language and they were quickly running out of time. The entire hunting party had been wiped out by the giant men even though they originally had five times the numbers. Only Brenna remained alive and she was hurt badly, unable to use her strong sword arm.
“My lord?” Drengr replied, his voice layered in disbelief. “After all that we did to stop...”
“Give me another option, Drengr. Now,” Engier commanded.
“I… I can’t, my lord,” he said, before trailing off. “There has to… be… another...”
“Can you count, you wizard shit?” Brenna cursed Drengr’s way, but still managed to keep her voice low. “We’re outnumbered and your normal rune magic doesn’t affect them at all, even if you could cast it. Sabjorn lost his life trying to do the same, when the first runes didn’t work, he tossed his rune bag to me and drew his daggers. What does that tell you?” Drengr shrugged but Brenna carried on speaking. “He knew they were useless, use the bloodstone so that we can retreat and live to fight another day. I will not die here if this is Utgard, wizard.”
Drengr vehemently shook his head. “Those are our people who will rise… There is no other magic for the rune to consume, my lord. I don’t know what will happen, especially to Sabjorn. He could come back as something even worse...”
“I doubt that,” Brenna said softly.
“Drengr,” Engier barked, hating himself for having the final word in what Drengr was about to do. “Use the bloodstone!”
“Time for us to get away from this shit hole,” Brenna moaned.
Again the Orotaq leader shouted and this time he followed it with a challenge by bashing his massive black sword against the heavy shield on his left arm. Engier snorted through a wide smile at the giant and stomped back. Such a childish tactic would never intimidate a pre-Bloodborne temja, let alone a blooded Northman warrior of his experience. Clearly taking offense, the Orotaq leader roared at him again.
“Tyr’s bloody blades, Drengr. Now!” Brenna yelled.
“You heard her,” Engier shouted, as he prepared to retreat. “Do it.”
The wizard shrugged his shoulders in disgust and cursed. “Dammit. Gods forgive me,” he spat, and broke the small bloodstone runes in his hand before tossing the pieces onto the corpses of their slain brothers and sisters to his left and right. No longer able to manipulate the magic within the runes, freeing the magic within was all Drengr could do, before watching helplessly as they activated and nothing happened. The smoky red magic flowed from the runes slowly and curled around the area where they landed, but ignored the dead on the ground.
“Do something, Drengr,” Engier snarled as the Orotaq warriors laughed and spread out, working their way closer in a half circle.
Two of the Orotaq warriors stepped over the dead Northmen hunters while Drengr raised his arms and released the red magic coursing through his body. It snaked out, sizzling and sparking its way across the dead bodies where it mixed with the magic from the runes, creating a familiar insidious red mist that reacted with the dead bodies the instant it made contact. Crackling with renewed energy, it spread outwards from the broken runes, invading the dead flesh of those Engier had known and fought beside or against for years. The red magic spread, racing u
nder their skin and across their bodies and only a single second passed before the dead began to stir from their deathly slumber. The four Orotaq warriors moved forward, beginning their attack, but quickly stopped in their tracks when the men they had fought and killed minutes before slowly rose underneath them, still wielding the weapons they held in their hands when they died.
To Engier’s surprise, Sabjorn rose along with the others, but while the others attacked, the undead wizard just stood there with a confused look on his pale face.
The giant leader roared again and tossed one of the raised dead aside before stepping back in panic. The other Orotaq warrior followed. Engier winked at the big man when they were forced to halt their attack and deal with the undead.
“Daemon!” the Orotaq leader roared, prompting his men to attack.
“That much I did understand,” Engier said. “Let’s go.” He slid an arm around Brenna’s waist to help her and she groaned in agony but said nothing. “We’ll return to claim our fallen after these beasts have left.”
Sabjorn turned his way and Engier thought for a second that he saw intelligence or recognition within his dead eyes, but when the wizard offered him a quick bow, he realized the necromancer might have returned from the dead in the same manner as Drengr. Whether it was him or not, Sabjorn spun back towards the Orotaq and unleashed an onslaught of red magic.
Not hesitating to see what happened for even a single moment, Engier used the distraction to drag Brenna into the forest. He could hear Drengr and Sahar following after him. The raised dead, free of any control, attacked the closest living beings—the four Orotaq warriors. Sabjorn was the exception and when the snap and sizzle of rune magic erupted behind him, Engier understood beyond a doubt that a lot more than just an animated body rose with Sabjorn. The sounds of battle and more magic raged behind him and Engier moved through the forest to the cave system his people had been using to access the mainland from the briar forest. The sounds of the fighting slowly faded behind him and he sighed with relief when they exited the caves on the far side of the hills.
The Orotaq must have been unable to figure out how to put the walking dead down for good because they didn’t follow. A pang of cold guilt ripped through his belly at the desecration of his own people, but bizarre times called for strange sacrifices and he promised himself to do all he could to recover his men and women in order give them the burial rights they deserved, especially Sabjorn. The traitor turned savior deserved at least that much.
Only once it was safe to do so.
BRIAR CAMP
“Do you think they’ll find us, Engier?” Brenna asked. She groaned in pain and settled down beside him at the eastern watch site. The healers had spent more than an hour putting her shoulder back in place and patching her up. Her right arm rested easily in a sling while propped up on her knee as she made herself comfortable and leaned back against a tree trunk.
“You should be resting, not on watch.”
“So should you,” she said, her voice stern. “How long has it been since you’ve slept now? Three days?”
“I grabbed an hour here and there and a little after we got back. I’ll rest properly when I know our people are safe,” he said.
“As will I,” she sighed. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
Engier shook his head, she was persistent if nothing else. “If they find the caves, then yes, they will find us. This briar forest is the only place of note for miles.”
“Any tracker or scout with a short hair of Loki’s intellect will be able to follow the trail we left.”
He nodded his agreement, but was interrupted by someone crashing through the woods behind him.
“My lord?”
Engier turned to see Hamay less than ten feet away, bent at the waist, panting.
“How can I help you, Housekarl?” he asked.
“Two of the cave scouts are returning with a prisoner.”
“What?” Brenna snapped. “How is that possible? Two of ours cannot possibly handle one of the giants, especially alive.”
“The prisoner is not a giant, my lords,” Hamay said, his breath returning. “It looks like the necromancer, Sabjorn. They should arrive at the southern watch post shortly, my lords. Sahar and Drengr sent me to relieve you.”
“That bastard refuses to die, doesn’t he?” Engier said as he stared at Brenna, but only got a shrug in return. “I saw him rise after Drengr threw the bloodstone and used that red magic, he seemed different from the others. Like he came back with his mind in tact.”
“Sabjorn was the only magic user among all the men and women we lost,” Brenna offered. “Perhaps that is why."
“It seems possible and holds to the theory Davur and I discussed back on the mountain. All right,” he sighed, turning to Hamay. “Take over here. We’ll make sure a runner is sent to you.”
“Of course, my lord,” he said, switching places.
Engier and Brenna rushed to the southern watch site as quickly as the briars and her injuries would allow. They stopped at the scout command tent long enough to send a runner out to Hamay and then they carried on to the south watch. The short delay caused them to arrive several minutes after the scouts returned with Sabjorn in tow. The man and woman from Brenna’s clan had taken no chances and tied a noose around the wizard’s neck in order to lead him back. Bound with his hands behind his back and a rag across his mouth, an eighteen-inch length of rope between the hobbles on Sabjorn’s feet allowed him to walk with a shuffle, but he couldn’t run. A heavy cloak covering most of his body rode on his shoulders.
“You made it,” Drengr said greeting them as they arrived. “Good, because you must see this.” He nodded at the scouts and they removed the ex-rebel’s heavy cloak. Sabjorn’s body was covered in bright red veins identical to Drengr.
“Unbelievable,” Engier whispered in awe. More murmurs and whispers buzzed among the watch guards and scouts as several men and women breathed a prayer to whichever god they worshiped most. Engier was no exception, but he offered prayers and curses to only one god.
“Bastard Tyr,” he muttered. “Are you purposely trying to make my life a living hell?”
“Freyja’s saggy tits,” Brenna cursed, and turned to Drengr. “As if one freak wizard wasn’t enough... You made more?”
“I told you I couldn’t predict what would happen,” he said.
“Perhaps he can tell us,” Engier said and stepped forward to lift the wizard’s chin and remove the gag. The wound caused by the Orotaq sword had closed, but it wept blood and plasma from the raw edges still far from fully healed.
“What happened? You were dead, that giant’s sword practically cut you in half.” Sabjorn’s whole body shook and it took a bit of effort to force him to look up. “What happened?” Engier repeated.
The wizard shook his head, but it only seemed to trigger more muscle spasms across his body. “I know... don’t not,” he said, coughing. “I felt the embrace of darkness… of death. But then... magic roared into me. I opened my eyes... You were helping Brenna, others from the hunting party rose... so I fought again... Then… Darkness again... And I woke again... Alone. I had nowhere else to go...” The body tremors grew more intense and he collapsed unconscious without saying another word.
“Get him to a healer,” Brenna said. Her command broached no argument. “Keep him under a minimum three-man guard.”
Engier pointed at Drengr. “Do not leave his side unless Brenna or I call you. At any sign that he’s aggressive, you put a dagger through his eye and into his brain.”
“Is that the same order you gave after it happened to me?” Drengr asked calmly.
Engier frowned and held his gaze. “No.”
“I gave that order,” Brenna said.
Drengr bowed and led the way as several clan warriors carried Sabjorn to the healers.
“You,” Brenna said, motioning to one of the scouts who returned with the wizard. “Any movement from those beasts?”
The scout n
odded. “It looks like they have called their people back to the swamps from all over. Runners have been going back and forth for days, returning with larger and larger numbers. Perhaps they were raid parties or large hunting groups out for more than a day, or perhaps reinforcements from other villages. If they do come our way, we’ll know in enough time to prepare for a retreat or to make a final stand. If my men haven’t already, we will also recover the bodies of those who fell as soon as I return to the caves. You have our word, Jarl Engier, Jarl Brenna. We will bring our dead home to rest.”
“Thank you,” Engier said, getting a bow in return.
“Stand our ground or retreat?” Brenna prompted.
“Retreat across miles of mud?” he asked.
“The builders have done a fair job with the road,” she said. “Most of the way has been built up and logs set in the mud to dry. It can be done.”
“Or we stay and die in a land that is not ours?” he asked, rhetorically.
“If we retreat...” Brenna began, but was interrupted by Drengr as he rushed back to them with Eira at his side.
“My lords,” he gasped, motioning with his head for them to come closer. “A moment?”
“What is it?” Brenna inquired.
Engier leaned in as Drengr began. “Sabjorn was mumbling about killing one of the four Orotaq back at where the hunters ran into them.”
“We already know they can be killed,” Brenna said with a snort.
“It’s not that,” Eira said butting in.
“Then what?” Engier barked, though he didn’t intend to. The lack of sleep was getting to him. “My apologies,” he quickly offered.
“It’s all right,” Eira said. “I understand. I’m the last person you’d want to speak to but you must know what I was told about the Orotaq by Giera and the others before they left me for dead.”
“Something useful, I hope,” Brenna said.
“Perhaps,” the Skeyth woman said. “The Orotaq rule this part of the new world. This is all their territory and they defend it aggressively from all encroachments.”
