Even as he spoke, there was commotion from the South Tunnel. ‘The Ravens have made contact,’ someone shouted.
‘Time to play,’ Halvar glared at Punnr and then swung away.
‘I’ll not let this rest, Captain,’ Punnr called after him. ‘You have my oath on that.’
The Wolves were upon Calder before she even realised. One moment she was crouched in the shadows of an empty Calton Road and the next warriors were vaulting over the wall at the rear of Canongate Kirk graveyard. They fell around her like heavy raindrops and gathered under the boughs of the old yew tree.
Brante came beside her and she recognised him despite his iron helm. ‘You okay?’ he whispered.
She nodded. ‘How many are you?’
‘Three litters.’
‘Who leads?’
‘Halvar’s with us. He should be arriving right about now.’ As he spoke, the Housecarl appeared atop the wall and fell deftly among his troops. He saw Calder and slunk over.
‘What’s the position, scout?’
‘The Titans are on the summit of Calton Hill. Thurmond’s up there. They have sentinels posted along the eastern path, but Jacob’s Ladder is clear.’
He swung around to one of his Hersirs. ‘Two to remain here to guide the White Warrior party. Send a third back to bring Asmund’s archers and tell them to cover a likely Titan retreat down the eastern path.’
Calder saw two more figures pull over the wall and recognised them as camera-toting Vigiles. Halvar turned his attention back to her. ‘Lead on.’
The three packs followed her along the road and under the bridge, then took the long ascent of Jacob’s Ladder at a silent run. She brought them to a halt when she reached the top step and peered across Regent Road. Thurmond appeared in the trees opposite and she knew he must have silenced the Titan sentry. He pointed west and Halvar understood.
‘The Sky-Rats will have taken the direct route onto Regent Terrace, through the gardens and straight up, but they’ll have scouts all over that. So we go around.’ He drew his sword and Calder felt the Wolves follow suit. She started to inch forward, but he placed a restraining hand on her. ‘You wait here. Punnr will need you.’
He checked both ways along the road and then loped west, bent double. Behind him streamed the rest of the pack.
They had barely disappeared around the bend when Calder sensed more warriors making the climb behind her. This time it was the Bodyguard. The Shieldmen were heavier on the steps than the fit Wolves and they came towards her breathing hard, but the lead warrior hardly paused as he closed the last few steps. ‘Which way, scout?’
‘West along the road. Then up the slope when you reach the trees.’
He pushed past her without a response and the other figures almost knocked her over as they flowed around her. In the centre, Punnr was carried past by the sheer force of their momentum. He came right next to her and she just had time to reach up and press her helmet to his. ‘Look after yourself.’
Then they were gone and Jacob’s Ladder was empty. She trotted across the road and went in search of Thurmond.
The ascent through the trees was steep and treacherous underfoot, and Punnr’s heart was thudding against his armour by the time he broke out onto the bare summit slopes. His Shieldmen came behind in a ragged procession, sucking in the night air and stooping with hands on knees when they reached him, and he wondered how the Titans could have failed to hear their thundering approach. But his group was coming from the southern slopes and the foe were most likely on the eastern side.
He walked out onto the bare grass without waiting for the Shieldmen to form up around him and peered east across the summit plateau, past the Nelson Monument towards the colonnades of the National Monument of Scotland – the Parthenon of the north – silhouetted in the moonlight.
Titan Hoplites clustered among the columns, black against the starlight, and in their very centre he could see the white armour of Lenore. She was crouched at the base of the fifth column and he thought he spotted the beam of a UV torch. Below and surrounding the Monument was a line of Hoplites and to the left of the Monument were a group of Vigiles who had already ensured the hill was clear of unwanted spectators and identified the best positions to film proceedings. Even as he looked, Halvar’s Wolves broke from the trees nearest the Monument. They drove in a pointed wedge aiming straight at the defence line closest to the group surrounding the White Warrior. Halvar knew his objective. Kill Lenore. Sine missione.
There was a moment when the scene could have been one of the tableaus etched in silver along the tunnels of Valhalla and forever frozen in time. Like their ancient forebears, the Titans defended their Parthenon, bronze shields and helmets alive in the moonlight, while the Viking mass hurled itself towards them, their swords high and their cloaks billowing.
Then the moment passed and all hell broke loose. Although fifty yards of ground still lay between the opposing sides, the excitement was too much for the Wolves and a war cry broke from their lips. At the same instant Titan orders sent the Hoplites into retreat. They had the Asset and this wasn’t the time to meet iron with iron. The White Warrior vanished and her entire group disappeared the other side of the Monument. The single defence line broke as well, sweeping back over the summit of the hill, and the Wolves on their tails bayed in delight at the sight of lightly armoured backs to pierce. It was a dangerous decision by the Titan command: withdraw too slowly and the Wolves could slash them down at will; but gain the wooded eastern slopes and they would no doubt reach the cover of their own archers and it would be the Horde who had to check their headlong charge.
The Shieldmen joined Punnr and the leader yelled at him. ‘Go, go, go!’ He was right. Already the Wolves were disappearing over the rim of the hill and even the Vigiles were following with their cameras, having not seen the approach of Punnr’s group. For a few precious moments the Monument was empty. Punnr ran between them, covered by their shields.
As they reached the base of the Monument, it became apparent that it was higher than it seemed. Punnr dropped his shield and had to use both hands to pull himself up onto the massive stone base from which twelve columns sprouted. The Bodyguard remained below as he ran to the fifth column and crouched on the spot where he had seen Lenore do the same. He took his UV torch and shone it up and down the column, gasping with relief as he saw words reveal themselves.
DISTANCE
I am first and last of the seven, though there lie fourteen leagues between.
You will find me on the fifth of the disgraceful twelve
Throttled by gunpowder in the old Kirk
You will find me where the lion’s mouth drips
He recited the two clues feverishly to himself. Why hadn’t he brought something to record them on? He must commit them to memory without error. Just as he thought he had them, there was a hoarse yell of warning from one of the Shieldmen and he spun around. Titans were bounding between the columns. Not many. No more than fifteen. But they came at lethal speed, shortswords glinting, and even though the colour of their cloaks was impossible to determine in the night, Punnr knew instinctively that they were the Sacred Band, the Titan elite.
He stumbled back along the Monument, ready to drop into the defensive circle of his Bodyguard, but he realised with dismay that they were falling back. The Titans themselves were leaping down and running across the grass towards the fleeing Vikings. Punnr watched open-mouthed. The Shieldmen were the huge hand-picked warriors of the central shieldwall. Every fibre of their being should have been screaming back a challenge to the smaller Titans, stamping their boots into the mud and shouting in defiance that they wouldn’t retreat one single step. But instead they were running for the trees, leaving their White Warrior alone on the Monument and shining like a beacon in the moonlight.
Punnr looked around him in panic and decided the treeline to the south was closest. He had the clues and the Asset. The Titans had disappeared in pursuit of the Shieldmen. Calder’s scouts and Asmund’s a
rchers would be lining his route back. All he had to do was get to the trees and he would soon be in Valhalla once more. His mind made up, he was just about to jump when he sensed another presence behind him. Jerking around, he saw her striding soundlessly through the columns towards him, sword in hand. He knew it was the Captain of the Band. The one Sveinn would give anything to count in his ranks.
Punnr was frozen to the spot, watching his fate come towards him with long hair shimmering in the light of the moon. He drew his sword and only then remembered he had left his shield below. He braced for the strike of her blade, but instead her booted leg came up and hammered into his stomach, driving him from the Monument. He fell like a stone to the grass below and lay stunned as the breath was driven from his lungs. He forced himself to his feet and tried to raise his sword again, but she was already at him. The pommel of her sword crashed into his helmet, then her shield punched him in the chest, sending him spiralling backwards. He had never been hit so hard, not even by the likes of Halvar.
He steadied himself and brought his sword up to parry the next strike. Their blades clashed and his entire arm buckled with the blow. Her sword came again, whipping against the other side of his helmet. He tried to stay upright, but it was no good. His head was spinning and his heels found no purchase on the muddy grass. He felt himself falling onto his back and his sword fell from his hand. The stars winked at him. The colonnades stood black and timeless. She reared over him and he knew this plumed and faceless soldier brought his death.
‘Agape! No!’
The blow didn’t come. He still breathed. He recognised the voice that had restrained her and he forced his head to one side. Halvar was standing silhouetted between the columns. He was alone and his sword and shield were both lowered. He didn’t rush to Punnr’s defence. He simply stood and watched the Titan captain. Punnr forced himself onto his elbows and stared through his helm’s eyeholes at his would-be assassin.
She was motionless, looking back at Halvar, her sword still held for the strike. Then she broke the spell, bent down and roughly tugged Punnr’s helmet from his head. He gasped and stared back at the featureless bronze visage. She was studying him. Debating with herself. Then she straightened, turned to Halvar once more, raised her sword in salute to him and swept away into the night.
XXXI
The two warriors hurtled down Jacob’s Ladder. The Valhalla scouts had already pulled back and the Wolves were heading towards the Palace, nipping at the heels of the retreating Titans.
Halvar was furious. ‘What a total balls-up! Every stupid bastard thinks someone else is doing their job for them. So I’m left to bring you back. Bunch of headless dog turds!’ Despite his anger, he remained aware enough to grab Punnr and pull him into the shadows when they reached the road. ‘Whoa, laddie. Slow down. You’re still glowing like a Christmas fairy. Our lot might be witless morons, but I wouldn’t like to bet against the Titans leaving a sting in their wake.’
They jogged back to the yew tree more cautiously, hoisted themselves into the graveyard and began to dodge between the headstones. Punnr’s mind could barely keep up with the changing situation. One moment he had been certain of his own death, the next he was running behind a man he thought he knew, but one who had, over the course of a single night, insinuated himself into Punnr’s most precious memory of his sister and then averted Punnr’s imminent death by seemingly influencing the Captain of the Sacred Band.
Stubbornly, he stopped halfway through the graveyard and waited until Halvar realised and turned back. ‘What are you doing, you prick? We aren’t out of this mess yet.’
‘What happened back there?’
‘What happened?’ Halvar was advancing angrily upon him. ‘I’ll tell you what damn well happened. Bjarke’s Bodyguard fled like squeaky-arsed schoolgirls at the first sign of the foe.’
‘I mean what happened with Agape? She listened to you. The Titan’s most feared warrior took one look at you – and then at me – and let us be.’
‘We’re not going into that here! Move forward, Thegn, that’s an order.’
‘I’m not taking another bloody step until you start explaining.’
Halvar raised his sword. ‘I’m warning you, Thegn, keep moving. I’m returning you to the South Gate.’
In response, Punnr lowered his shield and stood on the spot. He looked at the other man more calmly. ‘Do you know my sister, Halvar? Don’t lie to me.’
Halvar cursed beneath his helmet and aimed a hefty kick at one of the headstones. He stood with his back to Punnr, his weapon clenched and his shoulders heaving. ‘Yes,’ he admitted, finally.
Punnr stepped towards him. ‘Is she alive?’
It seemed forever before Halvar answered. ‘I think so.’
‘Where is she?’
‘I don’t know.’
Punnr grabbed his shoulder and pulled him round. ‘Tell me straight!’
Halvar didn’t resist. The two men stood looking at each other through their helmets. ‘Your sister left the Pantheon.’
‘Left? What’s that supposed to mean? When did she leave?’
‘Towards the end of the last Blood Season, just before the Grand Battle.’
‘Where did she go?’
‘No one knows.’
‘What do you mean, Halvar? Stop talking in bloody riddles. If you don’t know where she is, how do you know she’s alive?’
‘She contacted me to say she was well. To say she would be okay.’
Punnr stared at him, trying to assimilate the answers. ‘Why would she get in touch with you? Why not me, her own brother? Why you?’
Halvar took a slow breath. ‘Because we were close.’
‘Close? What the hell’s close mean?’
‘Lovers.’
The admission stopped Punnr dead and his questions perished in his throat. Finally, he found his voice again. ‘Is that why you’re in the photo?’
‘Yes. It was a proud day.’
‘But it was four years ago and she only disappeared in March. You’ve been lovers for four years?’
‘Almost five.’ Halvar sheathed his sword. ‘I knew it was you from the moment you removed your blindfold in the vault on your first night. She used to show me photographs of you on her phone all the time and I even saw you through the windows of your flat one night when I escorted her home. By god, you surprised me when you walked into that vault. The Pantheon never recruits siblings, so I still ask myself what the hell you’re doing here.’ With this, Halvar remembered their current predicament and slapped Punnr on the arm. ‘I’ve answered your questions. Now we go!’
‘What? No. Wait.’
‘Not another word, Thegn. Follow me!’
Punnr ran after the receding figure. They hurdled the graveyard gates and checked carefully before dashing across the Mile and dropping through the alleys towards Cowgate and South Tunnel. Five years. Punnr tried to make sense of it as they ran. Morgan was Halvar’s lover for five years and she never said a word to me?
Another question came to him. ‘If those four soldiers at the Agonium Martiale were being awarded their freedom after ten years in the Pantheon, how was Morgan allowed to leave earlier and midway through a Blood Season?’
‘That,’ said Halvar over his shoulder, ‘is something I too dearly need to know.’
Valhalla was in uproar. A mass of warriors swirled around the Throne Room, shouting and demanding news. Men squared up to one another. There were shoves. Scuffles broke out. Fortunately weapons had already been deposited in the Armouries to be cleaned and oiled by the Schola youngsters. Sveinn sat on his throne and Radspakr stood by the stairs leading up to the Council Chamber. Their eyes met.
Calder struggled through the mob and pushed her way to Brante. The Wolves had chased the Titans from Calton Hill towards Holyrood and so, left on the southern flanks, she and the rest of the scouts had retreated from their positions unchallenged and bounded back to the stronghold.
‘What’s happening?’ she yelled in Br
ante’s ear.
‘The bastards are claiming Punnr’s fallen.’
Calder blinked at him and the tumult seemed to recede around her. ‘Punnr? What are you saying?’
‘His Bodyguard. They’re back and they say they had to endure a fighting retreat against the Titan Sacred Band, but they couldn’t get to Punnr. The last they saw of him, he was under the sword of the foe.’
She turned and looked towards the epicentre of the raised voices and only then saw the leader of the Bodyguards jabbing a finger at an angry line of Wolves. More Hammer Shieldmen were crowding behind him and pushing against the Wolf brigades. Her arms went limp and cold. Brante was yelling next to her, red with anger. She tried to make sense of everything, not daring to believe that the short moment when Punnr had run past her at the top of Jacob’s Ladder might be the final time she saw him alive.
The scuffles were becoming too hostile and finally Sveinn rose from his throne. He remained calm, but his jaw was clenched beneath his silver beard. He raised a hand and gradually, despite the bad blood in the room, the noise dissipated and heads turned to him.
‘My warriors, I understand your frustration. We had the foe in flight and if it is true that our White Warrior has been felled, then it is a bitter blow indeed. As I speak, the Vigiles are confirming whether he is dead or wounded. Either way, we will be unable to claim the remaining Assets. But we must not turn on each other. The best plans always lie scattered the moment contact with the enemy is made, for warfare is ever in the hands of the gods. What’s done is done. It was the foe who struck down our Warrior, so it is our duty now to focus our anger upon their heads. Two more Raids remain and we will dedicate ourselves to stopping the Sky-Rats and to the destruction of their own White Warrior. We will have our vengeance! This I swear by mighty Odin!’
He spoke well and the sound of assent swelled the assorted ranks. They shouted their support and swore their mutual vengeance on the Sky-Gods. Sveinn held up a hand to silence them so that he could continue, but as the noise dropped in the Throne Room cries could still be heard in the South Tunnel. Heads began to turn. Calder strained to see over the shoulders of the warriors around her. Sveinn himself looked to the tunnel, unused to being interrupted.
The Wolf Mile Page 26
