"My men are fine warriors," Baleron said. "We'll drive them off. I'm sure of it."
"We'll have to sink them," Neko said. "Men, get your arrows ready to set her aflame. We fight."
He turned to Baleron with a look of apprehension. "I hope you're right, my friend. This will be a fight to remember. Finn, wake up. We've got trouble."
"I count at least a dozen men lining up at the rail," Finn said as they all crouched down.
"I can't see a thing," Ivar said.
"I'm still queasy," Alric groaned.
"Baleron," Neko said. "When they show any sign of aggression, signal Freyja and Odhran to open fire. Then we'll follow."
They crouched in silence, hearing only the lapping of the sea against the ship's hull. The dark ship was heading toward them at an angle, its sail full on and filled with wind. A few arrows would take care of it and the secondary sail rolled up beneath it, and then the ship itself could be set aflame.
"They're turning," Hakeem whispered loudly.
Baleron could see that the ship was changing course to head straight toward them. It was then that the moonlight glinted off of several large metal spikes mounted on the front of the ship. They were sharp spikes, capable of crushing through wood.
"They're going to ram us," Baleron said.
He whistled, signaling his archers to open fire. The flaming arrows streaked out over the water almost immediately, puncturing the sail and continuing on toward the deck. The sail burst into flame right away, and Baleron could hear the shouts of the men on board.
"Now!" Neko shouted, standing to pull back his own bow.
His men followed him, and another half dozen flaming arrows lit up the surface of the ocean as they arced toward the dark ship. Odhran and Freyja continued firing, and soon, the dark ship was riddled with small fires.
Then arrows came streaking in.
Everyone ducked as the dark ship returned fire. Though arrows struck the deck, they carried no flame with them; only their sharpened points.
"Hakeem!" Neko shouted. "Turn sharp toward the shore. Get us at an angle."
They began to turn toward the right, putting them at an angle with the quickly approaching enemy. Neko waited for a few moments, until the ship was pointing straight toward shore. Then, he shouted again.
"Back left!"
The ship suddenly lurched over, tilting at such an angle that Baleron could see the waves a bit too close for comfort. As they rounded the turn, he could hear Alric groan. He held on tight, closing his eyes until the ship straightened out.
"Now, to the other side," Neko said.
The crew rushed to the other side of the deck, and Baleron could see that they were parallel to the dark ship and heading in the opposite direction. Odhran and Freyja sent arrow after arrow at it as it began to turn, its sails still aflame. Its deck was dotted with fires, and its crew rushed to put them out. But still the ship came.
"Turn port!" Neko shouted. "Stay along the shore. We may have to melee."
"They have no sails anymore," Ivar said. "Surely we can outrun them."
"The backup may still be functional," Neko said. "Once the main sail has burned out, they'll raise it and be back in business."
"Odhran! Freyja!" Baleron shouted. "Fire at the auxiliary sail!"
"Let's get to the aft," Neko said, drawing his sword.
They rushed to the aft of the ship, ready for any attacks from the rear. Finn's bow was out, and he carried the bucket of pitch in the other hand. Hakeem mounted the torch on the railing, and everyone with a bow readied their arrows.
"Try and hit the mounts that hold the spikes," Baleron said. "They'll smash through this ship like paper."
Everyone picked up a bow and began firing at the enemy ship. Most of their arrows bounced off the hull and fizzled out in the water, but a few struck home, splattering the flaming pitch onto the wood around them. Odhran and Freyja's arrows continued to pummel the mast just as the main sail was cut loose and the auxiliary sail was raised.
"Damn it," Neko cursed. "It's made of leather."
The enemy ship was picking up speed, coming closer and closer as it crashed over the rising waves. There was a storm coming in, and the waters were getting rough. Neko turned toward the stern, judging their course as they bounced over wave after wave.
"Hakeem, let's head closer to the shore. You know where the rocks are. They do not."
"Right," Hakeem replied, taking the rudder.
As they steered back to the right, the enemy ship picked up speed, turning with them. They were close enough for everyone to see the warriors onboard. They lined up along either side of the deck, readying their bows and preparing to crash together. Baleron drew his blade, watching as Ivar and Alric dropped their bows and drew their own weapons. Finn picked up the bucket of pitch, and Baleron knew he was preparing to throw it aboard the enemy ship once it was close enough.
"Get ready," Neko said. "We will fire a volley of arrows first, then follow."
"We're boarding them?" Alric asked, evidently distracted from his nausea.
"That's right," Neko said, grinning. "They'll never expect that."
Before the two ships crashed together, the dark ship suddenly veered toward their right, picking up speed and running parallel to them. Neko rushed to the railing, growling in anger as he saw the contraption mounted to the side of the ship. It was a large grapple mounted upon a metal pole.
"They're going to grapple us," Neko said. "Fire now!"
Those with bows fired more arrows at the ship, some of them striking her crew, and others hitting the hull, spreading more flame. The grapple was suddenly let loose just as both ships crashed over a large wave. It caught the edge of Neko's ship, burying its spikes into the deck. The enemy ship's crew began to mount the grapple, dodging the arrows from above and below.
"Don't let them board!" Neko shouted.
Though arrows streaked at them, the enemy crew began crossing the grapple's pole. Ivar and Alric took either side of the claws, ready for the pirates who approached. Other enemies tossed smaller grappling hooks onto the ship and tied off the lines. Neko's crew fired at them, attempting to take them down before they could tie off completely. But still, their lines tightened and they began coming hand over hand.
"To hell with it," Ivar shouted, jumping onto the grapple.
Alric followed, and Baleron glanced at Neko and they both shrugged. "You said board them," Baleron shouted. "Let's board them!"
"That sail is leather," Odhran said, strapping his bow to his back.
"What are you doing?" Freyja asked, firing another arrow into the large sail.
"I'm going to cut it loose."
"Wait," Freyja said, grabbing him by the arm as he climbed up onto the railing of the crow's nest. "Are you insane?"
"Maybe," Odhran said.
He looked toward the other ship's mast, watching it sway back and forth as the ship went over the waves. It was too far to reach by jumping, but the cross beam that held up the sail was within reach. He could jump onto it and cut the sail loose quite easily.
As long as he didn't miss.
Before Freyja could stop him, he focused upon the crossbeam, jumping out with all of his strength. He could hear her protest as he sailed through the air, and curse just as he caught his target. He looked back at her, seeing her shaking her head and go back to firing down. Odhran drew his sword, grabbing onto the beam with his other hand and slashing at the sail's tethers. The corner came loose, and he threw his leg over the beam to help drag himself along.
When he reached the mast, he saw that the sail was pulled up by a pulley with the very rope that was now tied to the ship's aft. He could cut that rope and drop the sail in one fell swoop. He laughed, climbing onto the crossbeam and grabbing onto the mast. He began hacking at the thick rope, cutting through it in just a few strikes. The sail fell immediately, flowing in the wind as it spread itself over the back of the ship's deck.
Then, arrows began streaking upward. He pulled
himself closer to the mast, looking down at the scene below. His friends were on board, working their blades in perfect harmony. He could see Ivar spinning and twirling, cutting down enemy after enemy. He could only laugh as he began sliding down.
Though he was assaulted by arrows, the archers were soon overtaken by his friends, and he let himself slide faster. He focused on his targets; the ropes that were tethering the two ships together. Each of them was guarded by a crewman with a blade, who were in turn guarded by other swordsmen. There seemed to be several dozen men on board, but his friends were faring well.
He dropped among a crowd of unsuspecting crewmen, immediately cutting one down just as the others turned on him. Odhran went into a spin, slashing out and cutting down two more. Through the haze he could hear Ivar's singing and shouting, and soon met him face to face. The Northman gave him a strange look as they caught each other's gaze, but laughed and went back to work.
Odhran climbed onto the nearby railing, leaping onto the captain's cabin and heading toward the ship's fore. Several of the crew were waiting for him when he jumped down onto the other side, but they were cut down by Finn and Alric as they came spinning in. Odhran rushed past them, shouting at them over the chaos.
"Follow me!" he said. "We have to cut the ships loose."
He charged the nearest guard, spinning low as the giant scimitar came slashing at neck level. He thrust upward into the man's gut, withdrew and spun as he stood to face the next guard. He slashed left then right, missing the first strike but catching his target on the second. The man fell away and Odhran chopped at the tether, cutting it loose with one slash.
"We'll still have the grapple to deal with," Alric shouted.
"Neko will take care of that," Odhran shouted back.
The guards rushed them, and Odhran took out one before chopping the next tether loose. He dropped to one knee when another enemy came at him with a wild swing, blocking it and finishing him off with a downward slash. Alric rushed past him, taking out another with a spinning stab to the throat.
It was then that the door of the cabin opened, and a large, dark man with a wolf-like helmet came through. Odhran stopped, eyeing the man as he looked menacingly at the chaotic mess. From his size and demeanor, Odhran could only guess that he was the captain.
Things were about to get worse.
Ivar jumped down from the cabin onto the deck, ducking a charging man and hacking backwards as he passed. He spun and stood, both axes ready, when he noticed the large man emerge from the cabin door. He clapped his axes together to get the man's attention, and he got it.
The captain pointed his curved blade at Ivar and howled into the night. Though obscured by the smoke of the many fires, he still looked like a demon in his gear. But Ivar laughed, taunting him with another clap of his axes. The captain charged, crisscrossing his scimitar like lightning as he closed the gap.
Ivar blocked the first attack, jumping to the man's flank and swiping his left axe around. The scimitar was there to block, and then came again in a swift neck-level slash. Ivar jumped back, slamming into another enemy. He turned and grabbed the man, kicking him toward the giant captain, who simply knocked him out of the way.
"Well, you're a big one," Ivar said, walking sideways into the thicker smoke. "Let's see how quick you really are."
Ivar charged, both axes spinning diagonally in a flurry of steel. The scimitar was there with every strike, though, and Ivar changed direction and back-slashed with one axe. He felt the blade connect with something. He couldn't be sure it was flesh, and the captain didn't flinch or cry out. But he turned and charged, knocking his own helmet off of his head as he came.
Ivar ducked, rolling to the side as the scimitar came down point first. He rose up at the man's flank and swiped across, missing the man by inches. But then the captain froze, reaching over his shoulder in agony, dropping the scimitar to the deck. Ivar charged as the man turned, and before embedding his axe in the captain's skull, he saw an arrow protruding from his back.
When the captain fell, Odhran was there, staring at Ivar in surprise. They both looked up at the crow's nest of Neko's ship, seeing Freyja firing more arrows into the chaos. They laughed and rushed to the cabin. Odhran grabbed a bottle that was nearby, shook it and shattered it against the cabin wall. The liquor inside spread over the wood and onto the deck. Ivar grabbed a nearby lantern and crashed it against the wood, setting the oil and the liquor aflame.
"It's a waste of good whiskey," Odhran said, taking a swig from another bottle and tossing it into the cabin. "Never mind. That was really bad."
Ivar laughed and grabbed a sash from a nearby corpse, touched it to the flames, then threw it inside the cabin. They nodded to each other and stood back as the interior went up in flames.
"Nice job," Alric said as he joined them.
Baleron appeared atop the cabin, calling down to them. "Get back to the ship," he said. "This one's going down."
"Come aboard lads!" Neko shouted to everyone as they crossed the grapple. "Archers, keep them covered!"
Through a haze of smoke and arrows, the knights managed to cross, and jumped down onto the deck. Neko's men kept firing at the pirates as they attempted to flee their burning ship, dropping them into the dark waters below. Hakeem, a large man with the strength of an ox, began pushing upward on the grapple, tearing it loose and lifting it above his head. The men crossing it fell off, and Hakeem laughed out loud at their plight.
Ivar and Alric joined him, lifting the grapple away and finally pushing off, letting it fall and slam into the hull of the burning ship. Neko put his foot on the rail and laughed casually as the two ships separated, the enemies screaming, shouting, and jumping overboard as their doom became apparent.
"Goodbye," he shouted. "I hope you can swim. It's not that far to shore."
His crew burst out in laughter, firing a few more arrows for good measure. Neko turned to look at his new friends, impressed with their battle skills. Finn was there with them, holding his fist in the air as they all watched the ship sink. It would be a good night for celebration, he realized. They would celebrate their victory, their new friendship, and the forging of a new alliance. At that moment, Neko realized something he had never considered before.
He would be happy to join these men in their quest to overthrow the king.
Chapter Thirteen
Liam and Wulfgar carried newly cut timbers to the cave entrance to be transported to the wall. Though Liam could only carry a few at a time, Wulfgar, being a rather large Northman—even by Northman standards—carried a dozen at a time, chuckling at Liam every time the two passed each other.
Liam's other sons assisted in the transport, tying the timbers together in larger bundles to be dragged through the cave by several donkeys tethered to a sled. In the space of a few hours, the two men had carried enough wood for another day's worth of construction. Thankfully, the mill workers were skilled in making smooth cuts.
"I think it's time for a break," Liam said, exhausted.
"That sounds good," Wulfgar replied, dropping his bundle onto the sled. "I could use a mead."
"It's only midday, at the latest," Liam said.
Wulfgar shrugged, staring at him blankly. Liam could only laugh.
"Fine," he said. "Let's get some mead. We'll put your new longhouse to use."
The two men wandered over to the new construction, impressed by the skill of the workers who had built it in less than two days. It was complete with a large oaken door, a fire pit, and a stone chimney that was already spewing smoke. Two banners hung outside the door, marking the united tribes of the Northmen and Highlanders, and the mutual kingship of Wulfgar and Caillain.
It was a beautiful sight, with an even more beautiful meaning.
"It looks like the men have already started," Liam said, noticing the men sitting inside beyond the open door.
"Bastards," Wulfgar shouted as they approached. "Starting without your king."
The men inside laughed, raising t
heir mugs as the two men entered. There were Northmen and Highlanders alike, all sitting together enjoying their midday spirits. The smell of roasted pork filled the longhouse, and the laughter of children could be heard outside the windows.
Liam sat down at the table near Wulfgar's chair, taking a mug as it was passed to him. He noticed Svengaar and Skulgrid sitting together farther down, engrossed in a conversation. Across from him was another Northman and a Highland woman enjoying each other's company.
Wulfgar slammed his mug on the table, getting everyone's attention. He then lifted his mug, grinning as everyone settled down.
"Men," he said. "For many years we have been at each other's doorstep, neither friends nor enemies. Now, our people have united for a common cause, and to that we drink."
"Here, here!" Liam said, raising his mug. "To friendship."
"One other thing," Wulfgar added. "I think it is high time to bring the rest of the tribes south to join us. I have already sent a messenger to Ronja, Igrid's shieldmaiden, and he has departed this morning. When the rest of them arrive, we will have plenty of room for them, and they will have swords to add to our forces."
"Who is this Ronja?" Caillain asked. Liam hadn't noticed him before.
"As I said, she is Igrid's—well, she was Igrid's shieldmaiden. She shall retain that title when she arrives, and she will be my shieldmaiden, if Svengaar so allows her."
"Of course," Svengaar said. "You are the king. You choose your own."
Wulfgar raised his mug, nodding at Svengaar. "Then it is settled. I will have her as my shieldmaiden if she chooses. And you need not worry, any of you. Those women are as tough and skilled as they come. Though she is not of my tribe, I've seen Ronja in battle. She could take just about any man."
"Except for you, of course," Svengaar said, prompting a roar of laughter.
"Of course," Wulfgar replied with a smile.
"I will be glad to see the women and children of Hamish's tribe," Caillain said. "I hope they fare well in your lands."
"They are being well taken care of," Wulfgar said. "Ronja and her girls are fully capable of defending the lands."
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