The Wolf Hammer, page 8
part #1 of Odin's Bastard Series
Her smile made me briefly happy.
She spotted me and the standard, held up by a hapless young warrior. She crashed past Borin, ignored his questions, and stopped next to me.
“News!” she panted and grinned, as she was trying to catch her breath. I fidgeted impatiently, for I knew she had spent much of her time in the ranks, seeking information on Aten’s fires, making friends so very quickly amidst the Drowned Men and the Oath Makers, always accessible with new people.
Men mostly.
Fang’s words came to my mind. I pushed them away and squinted at her. “I have some fungus between my toes. And I’m hungry again. I got nothing else, Shian.”
“I have news, but I see you are in a sour mood,” she tittered. “Want to hear of it?”
“Spit it out,” I said. “This helmet is killing me. And the fur is stinky and wet. And I feel like we are getting nowhere.”
She shook her head. “The enemy has stopped.”
“Oh?” I wondered.
“Thousand to two, they were going to retreat to the White Tower,” she said. “They sent Yggra word that they would negotiate in the morning.”
I walked on, and she was grinning.
“Yggra,” I said, “is going to want to negotiate, no? He doesn’t like battles, eh?”
“Well guessed. Eglin said,” she murmured with a wink, “Yggra wants to force them to surrender. That he is not actually too keen on having a wee bit of a battle.”
“Eglin said,” I murmured. “You have now been speaking with him.”
She nodded. “When that Captain Lug allows, I have. A word here, the word there. He is a frustrated boy.” She winked. “He thinks Yggra is the very root of evil. He might be right.”
“I don’t understand this White Tower business,” I said. “They helped Father in war. Relatives to Graymoor, yes, but why not just surrender? They will be starved out in the end. They must know this.”
“Elgin told me just now what he thinks,” she said. I felt a stab of annoyance with the mention of his name. “I know Naergoth, the High King’s dog, wants it to surrender, wants to get there right now, yesterday, and expects them not to surrender.” She leaned closer. “The elf thinks that city, which was fighting with us in Lorin, is harboring wounded Hardhands. Barrac has sworn to make manure out of the High King’s guts.”
I hummed. “I like this Barrac.”
“He is a malformed bastard,” she said. “Rarely seen. Honorable, though. It is clear.”
We walked on, and she gave me meaningful glances.
“Why would Captain Arn keep retreating for White Tower,” I wondered, “for weeks, only to negotiate before they get there?”
She shrugged. I felt she was testing me.
“Yggra hopes for glory,” I said. “And his crown. And still, it seems he is the uncertain type and is facing competition from Eglin. He wants to be the king. He needs to prove himself.”
She nodded. “He was in Lorin, carrying messages between their right and center. He has hopes for the crown. It is clear. Eglin is out of favor, and as the lapdog and favorite jarl of Reignhelm, Gar Atenguard, their father, hopes Yggra will serve the great king too. Nothing matters to Yggra more than to please his father and the High King. Gar himself has left the High King, I hear.”
“Oh?”
She nodded. “He is joining Yggra here, tomorrow morning, with few thousand men. He is riding back and forth between the High King and us, to see where we are with this pursuit, to make sure the High King will be safe and will have a proper camp, and so on. As I said—lapdog. He is going to see the commencement of the siege and will meet the High King again before they enter the siege together.”
Borin was near now, grinning. “Word here and there, eh? Eglin is singing like a bird.”
She smiled. “He is a very nice boy.”
I ignored another stab of…something. I walked on.
Then I spoke. “Yggra doesn’t like us.”
“Nobody likes Yggra,” Shian said. “Except his father.”
“And if we would have a true sponsor in the enemy camp,” I said. “Someone grateful and tied to us… I wonder if we could…yes.”
“Go ahead,” Shian said. “I am waiting.”
“She has an idea, doesn’t she?” Borin said. “Devious like a squirrel, our Shian. She is wondering if there is any squirrel in you, though.”
“I know,” I said. “Tell me, do we have men who know the land?”
Borin grunted.
“What is between Captain Arn and us?” I asked.
Borin grinned. “A ravine. High bridge.”
“It might be damaged,” I said. “And they are fixing it this night, hoping to make sure we are not going to attack.”
“A bold suggestion,” said Borin. “I wish I could give you a nut, our sweet, royal squirrel. I have two, but I think you don’t like them hairy.”
I turned away from Borin in disgust and looked at Shian. “I think we shall do a bit of soldiering on our own. We could give Eglin a hand, no? He, after all, objected to this standing around negotiating part and wanted to attack. His father might be surprised. Yggra too.” I winked. “The High King might like a man so bold. Would make Yggra worried, careless, and Eglin a rising star in the Atenguard family. That sounds like a lot of opportunities for us to exploit, eh?”
She smiled, whooped, and crushed me with a hug.
She quickly pushed away and seemed ashamed. “You do have a good grasp of the obvious. I have found men who know the land, the troops could use some fighting, and as it happens, Eglin is cursing Yggra for being timid. That Lug is a problem, watching him all the time, but he falls asleep soon after Eglin retires to his tent. Eglin, too, thinks the enemy is trying to steal away this night. We can make him a hero.”
She seemed so happy.
I got a brief stab of pleasure from her radiant smile and joy, and flashed her a smile back, which seemed to shock her. “I like that,” she said. “Even if you feel robbed of your memories, I think you had many good ones. A mulish bastard would not smile so beautifully.”
“How does he feel about our aid?” I asked her, trying to hide my delight.
I was a fool.
An absolute fool.
“He thinks we want the full payment we are rightly due, so he understands our interest in him,” she told me. “He also likes me.”
It bothered me.
It shouldn’t, but it did.
A fool. A married fool.
“Get Eglin to our camp at nightfall, after Lug has passed out,” Ajax said, who had walked behind, unseen. He gave her a bottle of something green. “Try to get Lug to drink that. It should make sure he won’t wake up fast. I used to slip such to the drinks of travelers. Makes them easier to rob. And, Borin, tell your men to make the camp as usual. We don’t need to look suspicious, eh?”
***
The adeling was creeping along next to me. I mostly ignored him, but Shian remained close to him. They had smuggled him away from the captain, who was apparently in deep slumber outside Elgin’s tent.
He had balls, I had to admit it.
Striding to the night with an army made up of their recent enemies?
He was desperate and filled with anger.
I turned to look at him, and he nodded at me. “We will do well,” I told him.
He smiled uncertainly and said nothing.
Shian had managed it, and at midnight, when the Grudge Breakers had the guard duty, we had silently raised ourselves and marched off to the night, with no ceremony, leaving just guards in place.
We marched fast, through cold streams and dark meadows, and two men on mules guided us. They were local peasants, both of whom looked the sort of men who found battlefields after the battle and looted to their heart’s content. They could very well be Arn’s men too, but Shian had told me they were not, and I felt compelled to believe her.
I was marching with my eyes to the dark woods beyond, and after two hours of marching, we suddenly turned north.
We passed a small wood plagued with rotting trees and a sickening stench. Then our men were rushing back to us from the dark with one of the scouts and were soon whispering to Ajax. He was nodding and turned to us. Spears swinging, men were creeping along now, spreading out to the left as Borin was guiding them.
I knew then that we had been right.
The enemy was at a bridge which would take them over the ravine that was sure to be close by, and they were repairing the damage.
I pushed Elgin along. “Lord. You will stay with my standard, in the middle, in the fourth rank,” I said. “Near me. Don’t think of heroics. No unreasonable demands for duels and for Odin’s sake, do not accept any. If you see a priest hopping about before their shield walls, by Tyr’s balls you tell me, so we can kill that one. See one, dead or alive, you tell me.”
“Dead or alive, so we can kill him fast?” Eglin asked mischievously, his voice shaking.
“Yes,” I growled, and Borin laughed roughly.
“Stay close to me, sweetie,” Shian said, and I had to admit Eglin was butter on bread when she spoke.
It bothered me.
I wasn’t sure why.
My wife was a courageous one, an honorable one, a sweet lady of great heart.
She was part of the reason why I was there, for Odin, for our nation.
But I couldn’t remember her touch or voice.
I pushed Shian out of my mind.
Then I saw the ravine as I came out of the woods, in the light of the moons.
It was full and dark, and on the far side, the woods were thick and tall.
The troops spread right with military precision, even in the dark, making as little noise as they could. The chain jingled gently, spears clattering on metal, and shields banging together, but still, it all seemed strangely silent.
The men and women were making a long wall with four ranks.
A mile away, a sea of moving light could be seen.
There, a thousand men, more, were carrying wood forth to fix a shadowy bridge. I saw part of it had fallen down to the ravine Carpenters worked away, swarming on and over it like ants. Before the entrance to that bridge, I saw a lit rank of riders in elegant crimson capes, the rebel captains of the White Tower. Around them, swarmed hundreds of their men, helping the work, unarmed.
They were bound to have guards in the fields and around the camp.
They were going to escape, but that didn’t seem likely. Not now.
I looked at the bridge and wondered how it had broken. Had the rains, or some bandits, harmed it?
It seemed like terrible luck for Arn.
But it was excellent luck for us.
I watched Ajax.
He noticed and ran to me, tilting his head, the crest bobbling and the armored right arm gleaming as he pulled me close.
“So, we go in?” he asked.
“We go in there,” I said harshly, “and we kill the lot.”
“The best plan I ever heard,” he answered with a grin. “Seems you remember what you are, an adeling. Worthless sods, but yes, the plan is solid. I’ll add to it. We’ll march up until they hear us. The second and third ranks will plant spears, pull out their crossbows, and we’ll whittle away at the foe. Then we charge. Remember the commands, or should I help you?”
“We are after that captain,” I said, ignoring his doubt. “Arn. See him?”
“Like a fully clothed harlot in a whorehouse,” Borin rumbled.
“He is fixated with whores,” Ajax apologized. “Must have something to do with his mother.”
“Shut your mouth, egg-boiler,” Borin growled.
“My mother had a farm,” Ajax helpfully told me. “I did boil eggs a lot. Made me smarter than most, the eggs, my mother always said.”
“Your father was ashamed of you,” Borin rumbled.
Ajax twitched but spoke to me nonetheless. “Now, in we go, and then we simply kill.”
“Send out skirmishers to kill guards,” I said. “If we are lucky, we get really close. Don’t let that one escape.”
Ajax smiled. “Aye, of course.”
They turned to take control of the company, and I watched Shian, who pushed the standard bearer off and grasped the pole. She maneuvered close to me in the press of men. Elgin was leaning over my shoulder, crinkling his nose at my stench.
“Were you in Lorin?” I asked him. “Or in any other battle?”
He shook his head. “No. Yggra wouldn’t let me near a battle. He doesn’t let me anywhere, lest I might show my abilities.”
I nodded. He was very open about his misfortunes, even onto a mercenary.
“I will get you your pay,” he said. “And more. Shian is right. One has to take chances. A step.”
And what a step it would be. He’d soon be running.
Or dead.
“Good. We’ll take the pay. Now. Move us along, Shian.”
The standard shook in the near total darkness, and slowly the company standards answered, whispered commands were given, and the troop began walking forth.
I held my longsword over my shoulder and took comfort in its cold steel.
We marched and endured rabbit holes, the occasional missteps, and went ahead with our jostling, jingling, shoving trek. The milling mass of men before the bridge slowly became more apparent, and louder.
“What is it like?” Eglin asked.
We advanced further.
Shian elbowed me. “He asked you.”
“Me?” I said. “It was…”
I couldn’t really remember.
I was going to say terrible.
Then, for some reason I couldn’t understand, it felt like a lie.
“Terrible,” Shian said. “You’ll piss your pants. If you don’t die.”
“What?”
“The men will lift shields high to guard us, and will guard each other,” I said, “and then we will push to the foe. They will push back, and our second and third rankers, see? All tall, powerful men and women with longer spears, will push the weapons to their second and third rankers, and all the time someone is trying to hack you with an ax, sword, cudgel or even a stone. Arrows, javelins, and slingshots will fall all over the place, and men will be trying to flank us, to get behind us, to rape us with their swords.”
“I don’t think that would be—”
“No,” I said. “But it happens. We march forth, and push and push, stab and hack until they break, and then we will rape them. We’ll curl around them, jump on them, stomp over them, and finally, we shall see if any will be spared. And you just remember to watch your nuts, boy, for the wounded will be swinging daggers and broken spears at the balls, hoping to hurt us. Some are not actually dead, and as they will be thick as bones in a butcher yard, we’ll be walking on them.”
“What?”
“Just follow,” I said, and felt a tingle of excitement as the army drew in, and then, finally, there was a challenge, and a scream.
I saw our men bolting out of the darkness, one with a bloodied spear, gesturing wildly.
Up ahead, the captain and his men were staring at us in the darkness.
Borin growled. Ajax too.
The men began marching hard.
“To aaaaarms!” called out a man on a horse, a captain. “Arms, ranks!”
They were so close, so very close, a thousand men. As one, it seemed, they rushed for piles of shields and spears.
We marched on, then we ran. I growled an order. “Stop. Kneel. Fire at them, on command.”
The ranks stopped, haphazardly banging into each other, men jostling for space. Men in the second and third ranks planted spears upright next to them and pulled out crossbows from hooks on their backs.
Bolts gleaming dully. The masses of men lifted the weapons, and I could see from the enemy faces that they saw our dark forms fully and knew what was coming.
“Fire!” Ajax roared.
“Do it!” Borin said.
“Fire,” I whispered.
The bolts tore out. The strange, bloodcurdling sound of the terrible weapons in flight filled the air, and then it was replaced with the sounds of men terribly injured and dying.
The stream of men, almost like a panicked river of flesh, who had been rushing for weapons, writhed with pain. I saw the dark things in their flesh, especially where the bone had stopped the flight of a bolt, and they had not buried themselves in flesh and torsos. The cords in the crossbows were not as strong as they should have been, for nothing truly stayed dry in the rainy marches, but what I saw was more than enough to break most of their hopes.
Hundreds of men were thrown down to scream and bleed, another hundred were still and silent. Many of the captains around Arn were dead, falling from the saddles.
The great captain himself was hanging onto his, as a horse hit by many bolts threw him down and fell after.
“Spears, rush forward,” Ajax yelled, and there was no need for a standard to convey the order forth.
I roared like a dragon. “Kill them!” and it carried over, electrifying men.
The crossbows were either dropped or slung on hooks in the men’s backs, spears were picked up. Like a wave, chanting, the Hardhand warriors, the Grudge Breakers made for the great mass of foe.
We all ran, screaming, in a cumbersome mass of shield-wall.
And I was elated.
I felt immense joy, a world without a doubt, without worries, but one of the simple goals; survival.
It was the Hardhand rage, the anger that I had learned of in the battle.
In Lorin?
Before?
Then a volley of arrows rattled against us, javelins tore at the ranks, and I had no more time to think about it as a man to my right fell in a tangle of arms, and I nearly fell with him. The enemy—screaming wordlessly in a confused mass, many without shield—were right there, right before us, some running to receive us, but they were brutally trampled and smashed by shields. Then we crashed into them.
And over.
We bowled down the enemy, the shields of the first rank pushing men into ruin, many of our men falling with the impact as well and then dying with spears and axes in their necks. The confusion was terrible. We smashed and, pushed at each other, panted in the awful, clawing press, with Shian at my back, pushing me with her body, and Elgin crying in horror near us.
