CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN VARG

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

VARG

V arg hefted his shield, gritted his teeth and braced himself, the prow of a drakkar looming close. It was brimming with snarling faces spitting curses and wrapped in iron, steel in their fists.

"Come to me, you goat-humping nieings ," Einar bellowed from the prow of the Sea-Wolf .

The air was laced with streaks of red and blue, waves of glowing heat and crackling-cold frost ripping through the air above Varg. Vol and Iva were locked in a Seier- and rune-battle with the rune-wielders of the four remaining drakkars who were attacking in unison. Having seen the fate of the first drakkar , they had circled the Sea-Wolf and Sulich's knarr , attempting to board from four sides and overwhelm their prey. Vol stood close to the mast-hole of the Sea-Wolf , and Iva in a similar position on the deck of the knarr . Varg could not tell exactly what was going on, but it seemed to him that Vol and Iva were hard-pressed defending the Sea-Wolf and Sulich's knarr from rune-spells that were flying thicker in the air than the arrows, the stench of scorched iron and a winter's storm swirling around him. The sea churned with ice, but no drakkars had been consumed or shattered like the first one, only slowed.

Arrows zipped through the air, Varg keeping his shield up. There was a concussive crash as a longship's prow crunched into the Sea-Wolf that shook Varg, nearly threw him from his feet, warriors either side steadying him. Einar bellowed, setting his feet on the top-rail at the prow and swinging his long-axe. It chopped into the raised shield of the other drakkar 's prow-champion, splinters flying, and then Einar was ducking and leaning, a sword hissing through the air where his head had been. The clash of iron, a spray of sparks, Einar yelling and swinging, a scream and an explosion of blood, Einar bellowing his victory as the longship's hull grated down the portside of the Sea-Wolf .

"SHIELD WALL," Glornir bellowed and Varg was moving, forming a line facing the enemy drakkar 's portside hull, his shield raised, overlapping and locking with ?sa's and Edel's, who stood either side of him. He raised his spear high over his shoulder in an underhand grip, ready to stab out between R?kia and Svik, who stood in the front line before him. The attacking longship had fewer oars than the Sea-Wolf and sat lower in the water, making it harder for the enemy to board. The twang and hiss of loosed arrows, all in the shield wall raising their shields, a clatter and thud rippling along the line as arrows struck, then grapple hooks and ropes were hurled up, some snaring, and with a crack the two ships were heaved together.

"FORWARDS," Glornir shouted and the shield wall shuffled forwards almost tight to the top-rail. Varg saw R?kia chopping with an axe at a boarding rope and Svik slicing another with his seax. Another volley of arrows, the Bloodsworn ducking back, and faces appeared over the top-rail, steel-helmed and snarling, spears stabbing up. R?kia hacked one in the face, the clang of steel and spray of blood, a scream, the man falling back, his face a red wound. Varg stabbed his spear at a druzhina woman in a lamellar coat who was half slithering over the rail, hacking with a curved sabre at Svik. She saw the spear coming and threw herself backwards, slipped and disappeared with a squawk back over the rail. There was a push forwards as the surge of warriors trying to clamber onto the Sea-Wolf became stronger, the first line of the Bloodsworn's shield wall chopping, stabbing, hacking, warriors screaming, snarling, dying.

A concussion from the stern of the Sea-Wolf that rippled through the shield wall, Varg feeling it through his boots. A snatched glimpse and he saw another drakkar drawing alongside the Sea-Wolf 's stern, grapple ropes flying over the top-rail.

We are too few to defend all sides , Varg thought. Should some of us go back there?

Even as he thought it Glornir was moving towards the stern, calling a handful of warriors with him. Varg made to move with them and then he heard a cry in front of him, looked to see hands grasping R?kia, a blonde woman with a bearded axe hooked over R?kia's shield rim, her other hand gripping R?kia's axe-wrist. R?kia head-butted the woman, their steel helms clashing, R?kia's nasal bar mashing the blonde woman's lip and she fell backwards. R?kia let out a feral snarl, clambered onto the top-rail and leaped after her, disappearing.

The wolf in his blood howled and, without thought, Varg was moving, shouldering his way forwards into the front line, all notions of following Glornir to the portside to form a new shield wall gone from his head. He scrambled onto the top-rail and stood there, blocked a spear thrust with his shield and saw R?kia below him in a tangle of bodies on the drakkar 's deck, her shield raised, snarling and lashing out with her bearded axe. A druzhina warrior was behind her, raising their sabre high. Varg hefted his spear and threw it, saw it punch into the back of the warrior and hurled him to the ground. With a wolf-growl he leaped, crashing into bodies, all of them falling, Varg hitting the deck, a sharp pain in his ankle but he ignored it, heaved himself up, blocked an axe swing with his shield, felt the blow shiver up his arm and reached for his seax. Felt something grip his shield and drag it down. Instinctively he ducked and air hissed as a sword stabbed at his face. He ripped his seax from its scabbard and slashed over the top rim of his shield, sliced through flesh and heard a scream, saw a warrior reeling away, blood spurting from her cheek, the pressure on his shield abruptly gone. He moved forwards, slammed his shield boss into the head of someone slashing at R?kia's back, saw them stagger and fall, slashed his seax across another's hamstring, their leg giving way and they collapsed, Varg stamping on their throat and then the warriors behind R?kia were gone and he was pushing in next to her, locking his shield with hers. They stood there a moment, Varg heaving breath into his burning lungs, snarling at the warriors before him and R?kia. Thirty, maybe more.

Thuds behind him, Svik stepping up on his left, locking his shield over Varg's, ?sa moving to the other side of R?kia, Edel there, too, and their line was close to filling the drakkar 's deck, from oar-chest to oar-chest. More of the Bloodsworn were leaping onto the longship, a pressure of weight behind Varg as they joined the shield wall, forming a second row, and a third.

"Forwards," R?kia snarled, and they were moving, Varg feeling the wolf in his blood straining, snapping and snarling with the need to kill and tear. He allowed it to flood his veins, filling his muscles with strength, his limbs with speed, but kept enough control to not leap from the shield wall in search of blood.

They faced a mixture of warriors, some druzhina in their lamellar coats, curved sabres and slim-hafted axes, and others that looked like warriors from Vigrie with brynjas and round shields. They came to the front and began to lock shields. Arrows fizzed through the air, one slamming into R?kia's shield from the druzhina behind the forming shield wall, another grazing Varg's shoulder.

"DOUBLE TIME," R?kia yelled, and they sped forwards, smashing into the shield wall forming in front of them a few moments before it was ready. Varg ducked his shoulder behind his shield, set his feet and shoved hard, all along the front row with him doing the same, all stabbing high and low above or below their shield rims. Warriors screamed and snarled, a blow struck Varg's shield as the enemy rallied, but the Bloodsworn's weight and momentum were too great, and the enemy shield wall buckled and broke. A man slipped and fell before Varg and R?kia chopped down at him as they trampled over him, a scream cut short, and then they were among the enemy, stabbing, chopping. A druzhina woman stood and faced Varg, a shield and sabre in her fists. Varg blocked her overhead swing with his seax and punched his shield into her, rocking her backwards, swept on and stabbed high over her shield rim into her throat. She fell gurgling, blood gouting down her chest. Others were turning, trying to escape from the Bloodsworn's inexorable onslaught. Svik chopped his sword into the back of a man's neck, ?sa laughing as she hacked people down with her hand-axe, Edel moving forward relentlessly, her hound leaping and bringing a fleeing woman down, Edel finishing her with a thrust from her sword. Warriors started leaping over the top-rail into the sea, panic sweeping them, and then Varg was standing still, his chest heaving, dead all around them, blood pooling on the deck.

"Come back and fight, you nieings ," ?sa was shouting, turning in a slow circle, looking for fresh foes. Varg looked around, the deck of the drakkar clear except for the dead or dying. He saw that the rune-wielder of this drakkar had boarded the Sea-Wolf close to the prow, a cluster of druzhina about him. He was waging a rune-battle with Vol, Einar and a handful of the Bloodsworn locked in combat with the druzhina .

R?kia stood with one boot on a fallen warrior's shoulder, wrenching her hand-axe from his chest. Svik was close by, a trickle of blood under one eye. Probably not his. He nodded to Varg.

"Still alive then, No-Sense," he said. "Good."

The sound of Glornir's voice bellowing dragged their eyes back to the Sea-Wolf . Without a word they were all running back along the deck, Edel reaching the Sea-Wolf first and leaping up and over the top-rail, her hound following in an effortless bound. Varg followed next, slithered over the top-rail and landed between two oar-chests. He looked around, trying to make sense of the carnage. The three longships left were all around the Sea-Wolf and knarr , looking like most of their crews had boarded, as battle raged wherever Varg looked. The decks of the Sea-Wolf and Sulich's knarr were a chaotic melee, and Varg could hear Taras' bull-like roaring. Vol and Iva's voices ebbed and flowed in the din, blue and red spells slicing through the air above the battle, but they looked drained. Varg glimpsed figures on the other drakkars standing with arms upraised, guttural voices chanting, red runes thick around them. Einar still stood in the prow of the Sea-Wolf , trading blows with a thick-muscled woman wielding a sword and hand-axe. As Varg looked she hooked the haft of Einar's long-axe and dragged him off balance, slashed with her sword across Einar's chest. Sparks and ring mail shattered, blood seeping, and Einar roared, staggered back and dropped from the top-rail to the deck, stumbled to one knee. She leaped after him, hacking and stabbing, kicked him in the ribs. Svik was heading to his aid when he slowed. Varg watched as a small, dark figure dropped from the Sea-Wolf 's prow onto Einar's attacker. A fair-haired child. She wrapped her hands around the head of the prow-champion and dragged her backwards, then leaned back and Varg saw it was Refna Strong-Hands. She opened her mouth wide, revealing sharp-growing teeth, and bit down into the neck of the prow-champion. Other children appeared from the shadows, leaping onto the warrior, wrapping around her arms and legs, dragging her screaming to the deck.

There was a bellow from the stern of the Sea-Wolf and Varg saw Glornir, fighting alone against what seemed to be an entire longship's crew as they boarded the Sea-Wolf . Glornir swung his long-axe in great looping arcs, blood spraying in the wake of every stroke. The enemy swarmed around him. His long-axe took a man's arm off at the elbow, two more warriors coming at him from left and right and he swivelled, blocked a sword cut with the haft of his axe, took a blow from a woman with a hand-axe on the shield slung across his back, crunched the butt of his long-axe into the swordsman's chin, sent him crumpling to the floor, spun around to face the warrior behind him and slashed diagonally with his axe-blade, opening up a wound across her chest, sent her stumbling away in a mist of blood. But more were coming, leaping onto Glornir, grabbing him, stabbing at him and he was disappearing from view, smothered by their numbers. Varg ran, heard a wolf-howl scream and realised it was him, was dimly aware that others were following him. His foot slipped in blood that sluiced the deck and he crashed into an oar-chest, righted himself, carried on. He was thirty paces from Glornir, ducked an axe swing and slashed his seax across a throat, shouldered the warrior out of his way, twenty paces away, punched his shield boss into a snarling face that came at him out of nowhere, saw the man reel away, teeth shattered, nose and lips mashed to bloody pulp, ten paces from the heaving mound of bodies where Glornir had stood. It looked like he had been crushed to the ground, smothered by a wave of flesh and iron. Behind Varg he heard R?kia's snarling howl.

There was a deafening roar and bodies were exploding from where Glornir had been, warriors flying through the air in all directions. A woman crashed into Varg, sending him reeling and falling to the deck. He lost his grip on his shield, rolled, grabbed an oar-rack and heaved himself back to his feet, seax in one fist, his other hand reaching for the cleaver at his belt. He came up slashing and snarling, sent a druzhina falling away with blood jetting from a red wound in his throat, heard a deep-rumbling roar that vibrated through his chest, stood and stared for a moment, trying to understand.

Glornir stood in the stern of the deck, an empty space around him. His long-axe was gone, his shield, too, but he was grabbing warriors barehanded and ripping them apart, tearing limbs, bones cracking, ripping with long-taloned claws, grabbing and pulling bodies close to tear at them with his teeth, hurling them away when they stopped screaming, became limp.

An arrow punched into Glornir's shoulder, sank deep, though he hardly seemed to feel it, just growled and swatted at it, snapping the shaft.

More druzhina had clambered over the stern of the Sea-Wolf and they hesitated upon seeing Glornir, forming a loose half-circle around him. Varg saw some of them were reaching for the bows in cases at their hips.

"CHIEF," Edel roared, and she was leaping forwards, shield in her fist, her hound with her. R?kia hurled her hand-axe, was moving before it smacked into a druzhina 's face with a sound like wet wood splitting. Varg moved a heartbeat later, and he heard ?sa yelling behind him. They swept around Glornir like the tide around a boulder, Edel's shield raised before Glornir, the rattle-slap of arrows punching into the wood, then R?kia, ?sa and Varg were among the druzhina , slashing, stabbing. Varg struck out with his seax and opened a wound just above a druzhina 's knee, saw them stumble and collapse as the leg buckled, chopped down into a face with his cleaver, ripped it free in a mist of blood and teeth, ducked and turned, hacked through an upraised bow, wood splintering, on into the chest of another warrior, dented lamellar plates, the sound of ribs cracking, kicked out with one foot and knocked the staggering warrior to the ground. A crunch at the back of his head, stars exploding and Varg was reeling, the world sloughing away, sound abruptly muted, everything merging, and he was turning, trying to raise his weapons. Pain in his knees and he realised he had fallen to the deck, put a hand down to steady himself but it slipped away in a pool of blood. He fell forwards, rolled onto his back, white lights before his eyes, looked up and saw arcs of red and blue tracing lines of fire and ice above him.

A man stood over him, mail-clad and black-bearded, raising the axe that had already dented the back of Varg's helmet. Varg kicked out and caught the man's knee, made him sway, put his other foot straight up into the man's stones. He wheezed and crumpled, falling on top of Varg, the axe hissing past Varg's ear and chopping deep into the deck. Varg wrapped his arms around the man and dragged him close, the wolf in his blood snarling.

Rend, rip, tear , Varg told the wolf, and distantly he heard the man screaming.

He did not know how long he had been there, but slowly he became aware that the warrior upon him was limp and still. The stink of blood was thick in Varg's nostrils, the taste of it cloying and sweet in his throat.

Abruptly the warrior on top of him was moving and Varg scrambled to find his weapons, looked up and saw R?kia standing over him, heaving the dead man away.

"On your feet, No-Sense, this is no time to be resting," she snarled and offered her hand. He took it and heaved himself up, saw his seax and cleaver close by and swept them up. Varg swayed, his head thumping, felt his stomach lurch and vomited bile.

"No time for that," R?kia said, putting a hand to his back and steadying him. There was a lull in the battle around him, Glornir and a handful of the Bloodsworn standing amidst a carpet of the dead. More warriors were still coming from the drakkar that was boarding at the Sea-Wolf 's stern, but they were slower, more hesitant, and many of them were stringing the bows at their hips and nocking arrows. Varg looked for his shield but could not see it. He glanced to Sulich's ship, saw that the other two drakkar were moored to it at prow and stern, and that Sulich and his warriors were being crushed into the centre of the deck from overwhelming numbers. He glimpsed Taras hoist a warrior over his head and hurl him overboard.

"Ready, No-Sense," R?kia said to him, slapping his shoulder, and he saw that the enemy were coming in a new wave over the top-rail, spearmen first, archers behind.

" Nieing cowards," R?kia snarled, trying to cover Varg and herself with her shield from the arrows which began to buzz and whip through the air.

Varg raised his weapons and set his feet. Saw something that drew his eye to the sea beyond the enemy drakkar , something moving. He blinked blood and sweat, cuffed his eyes to clear them.

Another drakkar , rowing hard and coming straight at the Sea-Wolf .

R?kia saw it, too.

"We'll make a song for the skálds to sing of us," she snarled.