CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT ORKA

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

ORKA

"S tay behind me," Orka breathed to Breca. "And whatever happens, stay close to me."

She was standing with Breca and her crew in the prow close to Orlyg, his handpicked drengrs and Tainted about him.

"Yes, Mama," Breca said. He was holding a shield too big for him and wearing an iron nasal helm, also too big for him, that Orka had padded with linen and wool and adjusted the leather strap so that it would not fall over his eyes as soon as he started moving. Both had been taken from warriors who had died of their wounds on Orlyg's longship since the escape from Rotta and his warband. Orka had asked Jarl Orlyg for them and he had added their worth to his tally stick, Orka's debt with him climbing, which had set a hard scowl across her face.

Better more debt than Breca dead , she had told herself through her scowl.

Although Breca was big for his age, she had not been able to find a brynja that would come close to fitting him, and so he was wrapped in his woollen tunic and strips of leather and fur, and he gripped a hand-axe in one fist and wore a small seax at his belt, more an eating knife than anything else.

"Breca, fetch us water," Orka said. "Best to drink now. Nothing gives a thirst like battle."

Breca nodded and scurried away.

Orka looked at Gunnar, Halja, S?unn and Lif, all of them hard-faced.

"Lif, S?unn, you have two tasks in this battle. To stay alive, and to keep Breca safe."

"Aye," Lif and S?unn nodded together.

"And us, chief?" Halja said.

"Kill your enemies," Orka snarled.

Halja smiled and Gunnar grunted.

Breca returned with the water and poured cups for them all.

Orlyg's drakkar was rowing hard, a seething mass of longships ahead of them. The sea around the drakkars was churning with ice, bodies and bloody froth, the sky above them turned to crackling lines of frost and fire by rune-magic. Orka could hear the screams and smell the blood. It had not been hard to convince Orlyg to attack the drakkars . As soon as human eyes could see the ships Orka had gone to him and told him that one was the Sea-Wolf , the famed longship of the Bloodsworn, and that they were outnumbered.

"Ha, a chance to have the Bloodsworn in my debt. I am liking this voyage more and more," he had boomed.

Orlyg had raised the sail but because of the crosswind they had been forced to tack out to sea, zigzagging their way across to the sea battle, so it had taken much longer than Orka had hoped, and all the while she and her small crew had stood alongside Orlyg and his guards in the prow and stared, Halja carefully letting her eagle filter through her, sharpening her eyesight. She had told them of the four drakkars that circled and closed on the Sea-Wolf and the trading knarr it was moored to, and they had seen for themselves the Seier- and rune-magic that was scarring the sky. Now they were closer, and all could see what was happening. Icy rune-spells were being cast and hurled at the drakkars , some of them intercepted by runes of fire, exploding in the sky in bursts of frost and flame, while some of the ice-cast spells hit the drakkars , frost spreading like vines, but then red runes would envelop the frost, melting it, the flames hissing and sizzling, fire and ice consuming each other.

Orlyg had yelled orders and the sail had been furled on his drakkar , the oars taken from racks and dipped, and they were cutting through the last few hundred paces to the battle.

"The other ship needs the most help," Orlyg said grimly, "but I want the Sea-Wolf in my debt, not some fat sow of a knarr ."

"The Bloodsworn are fighting with that knarr , fighting for that knarr ," Gunnar pointed out, "so helping the knarr will be the same as helping the Bloodsworn."

Orlyg frowned. "Well, you are Bloodsworn, so as long as you remind your chief of those words when I have saved them, I am happy to go where we are needed."

"I will," Gunnar said.

Orlyg cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled an order to the warrior on the steering oar, their direction shifting towards the drakkar that was boarding the knarr 's stern. They skimmed by a longship boarding the Sea-Wolf , Orka glimpsing a line of the Bloodsworn forming against the raiders, Glornir standing with a handful about him. She saw druzhina in lamellar plate drawing bows, arrows flying at the Bloodsworn.

Gunnar Prow leaped onto the top-rail of Orlyg's ship, set his feet and hurled his spear. It pierced a druzhina who was drawing and aiming at Glornir, hurling the warrior to the ground.

"BLOODSWORN," Gunnar yelled, punching his shield into the air, screaming across the distance to where the Sea-Wolf was being attacked. "BLOODSWORN", and Halja leaped up beside him, cast her spear, too, taking a druzhina in the chest as many of them turned, confusion and shock sweeping them. Warriors on the Sea-Wolf let out an answering roar, "BLOODSWORN, BLOODSWORN". They thumped weapons on shields and broke into a run at the boarding party.

Then Orlyg's ship was sweeping past the Sea-Wolf and carving towards the prow of the drakkar boarding the knarr 's stern. It was almost empty of warriors, most of them having already boarded and attacking the knarr's crew. Only a dozen or so remained and they ringed a dark-cloaked woman, shaven-haired, an iron collar about her neck. She had her arms raised, muscles trembling as if she carried a great weight, and runes of red flame flickered in the air before her, leaping in incandescent arcs over the trading knarr , where they were met with gouts of blue-frosted runes exploding in bursts of competing elements.

"READY," Orlyg bellowed as he leaped onto the prow's top-rail, his white beard and fox-fur cloak whipped by the wind, salt spray in his face. He laughed. Looked at the rune-wielder in the drakkar . "G?sta," he shouted, "some work for you", and the Galdurman drew close to the top-rail, muttering incomprehensibly as flames began to flicker around the tip of his staff.

Orka turned and knelt, cupped Breca's cheeks in her palms and pulled him close.

"I was Bloodsworn, once, and your father, too," she whispered fiercely to him. "We broke our oaths to them, to Gunnar and Halja, to all on the Sea-Wolf , so that we could raise you in peace." She paused, felt as if a fist had clenched about her heart as she thought on how that had turned out: Thorkel dead and in the ground, her son now in the midst of battle and nowhere near as prepared as she needed him to be. "But the Bloodsworn are kin to me, still. They are our family, still, and that is why we fight. Not for wealth or fair-fame, but to keep each other alive. Do you understand me?"

"Aye, Mama, they are like our pack." She could see the fear in him, smell it rolling off him in waves. But the battle-lust was there, too, she could see it in the amber flicker in his eyes.

"I've a mind to tell you to stay here, to hide among the barrels and not move until I come and find you, but I do not think you would listen to me."

"I'm fighting," he snarled.

"I know you are," she said. "Stay close, stay behind me, stay alive." She rested her forehead against his, wrapped her arms around him and felt him hug her fiercely. Then she was standing, turning, pulling a grey n?lbinding cap from where it was threaded through her belt and slipping it over her head, unbuckling the nasal helm and pulling it on, buckling it tight under her chin. She slapped her head, checking the fit, then lifted the long-axe she had taken during her escape from Rotta's warband. Looked at Lif and S?unn, Gunnar and Halja, looked into each one's eyes and nodded, liking what she saw.

A crunch as Orlyg's drakkar ploughed into the longship that was moored to the knarr 's stern, timber grating and creaking as the ships clashed together. Iron hooks were thrown, dragged back, snaring on the top-rail, and the two ships crunched together closer. Jarl Orlyg was leaping before the hooks were thrown, hurling himself onto the drakkar , Dagrun and their oathsworn following them, G?sta with them. The sound of steel on steel, the crackle of rune-fire, voices raised chanting, screams.

Orka stepped up onto the top-rail, taking a fistful of Breca's tunic and hauling him up with her, leaped over onto the enemy ship, landed with a thump and bend of her legs, Breca stumbling beside her.

"Remember, stay behind me," Orka snarled at Breca and then she was moving, Gunnar and Halja leaping onto the deck and spreading to either side of Orka, shields raised, Lif and S?unn behind, flanking Breca.

Orlyg and Dagrun fought on the deck, already trading blows with druzhina , G?sta behind them, standing with some of Orlyg's drengrs about him, runes kindling in the air before his staff.

"Nett af loga, binda og brenna, brenna og mjúka," G?sta chanted and the runes shifted, flew through the air, turning into a hot-glowing net that fell upon two of the rune-wielders' guards, drawing tight, constricting about them. The stench of metal burning, then wool and flesh hissing, screams rising in pitch as the two warriors collapsed, bucking and writhing . The rune-wielder staggered, glancing at the fallen guards, now little more than two piles of melted metal and scorched, seared flesh. The rune-spells that were spread around her like a shield flickered and faded for a moment and Dagrun cast a spear, the blade punching into the woman's belly and sending her crashing back into the top-rail, tumbling over and disappearing with a scream and a splash.

Close by, Jarl Orlyg was chopping at the last of the guards, a fair-haired warrior in a coat of mail. He fell, an axe raised to fend off Orlyg's blows, but the old jarl stabbed below it, his blade punching through ring mail into the warrior's belly. His úlfhéenar , Tjorvi, stepped in and finished the man with an axe blow to the head.

Orka and her crew swept past Orlyg, speeding to the top-rail of this drakkar , and in heartbeats they were up and over, thumping onto the deck of the knarr .

It was blood and chaos, bodies on the deck, draped over sea-chests, blood slick on the timber. Wicker palisades partially covered tethered horses that stamped and reared in a pen along the centre of the wide deck. Some of them were dead, pierced with arrows, others screaming and desperately shying. The battle had passed them, Orka seeing the backs of druzhina further along the deck, those at the rear with arrows nocked, loosing over the heads of their comrades, or standing on sea-chests to get clearer shots at the knarr 's defenders, who were gathered in a knot at the centre of the deck. They were circled around a short-haired woman who stood with her arms raised. She was singing, blue frost-runes flickering above her. Close to her a huge, black-skinned warrior in mail and helm was bellowing, grabbing druzhina and hurling them overboard into the sea. He was pierced with many arrows. Orka glimpsed Sulich close to them, dressed in his horse-hair helm and lamellar plate, a sabre and a round, black-painted and blood-spattered shield in his fists. More druzhina were boarding from the bow, where another drakkar was moored. A glance to her left and Orka saw the Sea-Wolf was tied to the knarr , the combat on her deck focused on the stern of the ship, apart from Vol, who was standing near the prow, casting her own Seier-spells against the rune-wielders of the longships. Einar Half-Troll and a handful of the Bloodsworn were with her, hard pressed by druzhina who had boarded from a longship moored at the bow of the Sea-Wolf .

"Where to, chief?" Halja asked.

"Sulich first," Orka grunted and they were moving, speeding silently along the deck, past the horses, only the thud of their feet, but the druzhina could not hear that over the din of battle. They struck the rear ranks of archers in a storm of steel, cut a dozen down in heartbeats, Orka swinging her long-axe in two-handed blows, Gunnar and Halja stabbing and chopping, S?unn and Lif cutting into those that turned on their flanks. Orka glanced back and saw Breca trying to push past S?unn to get at the druzhina , but she stepped in front of him, fast as a snake, and stabbed her spear above the rim of a shield, in and out of the warrior's mouth, blade returning red and dripping.

A screaming face lunged at Orka, a woman in a horse-hair helm, curved sword in one fist, slim hand-axe in the other. Orka blocked the sabre's chop with her axe-haft, swayed left and felt the druzhina 's axe blade hiss past her cheek, the blade pinging off her helm in a fountain of sparks. She struck diagonally down the druzhina 's body with her axe head, a spray of lamellar plates and blood welled, the woman grunting and knocked stumbling back. Orka followed her, swung her axe high, two-handed, and she cut down, hacked through the wrist of the woman as she raised her sword, the axe blade carving on, chopping into the meat between neck and shoulder, sending the woman crashing to the ground. With a heave of her wrists, she wrenched the axe blade free and howled a battle cry.

The snap of bowstrings and Halja stepped in front of Orka, three arrows thumping into her raised shield. Gunnar ran at the archers, barrelled into them, all of them falling, rolling. Orka and Halja rushed to them, Orka hacking, Halja stabbing with her sword. Breca slipped between them and smashed his shield into the face of a druzhina trying to rise, chopped his axe through a beard into mouth and chin, ripped it free, and Halja's sword finished off the druzhina .

The remaining druzhina realised they had enemies ahead and behind and Orka could feel the panic spread through them like sickness. Many of them were turning, trying to form a shield wall against this new threat, and then Orlyg and his crew were scrambling onto the knarr , running and howling towards them with their white-painted wolf-shields, Tainted warriors snarling, growling, howling as they ran, and the druzhina broke. Orka and her pack fell upon them like slaughter-wolves, cutting, hacking, chopping, blood flying, death screams ringing out. Orlyg and his crew followed, driving a wedge through their enemies, and in heartbeats they were dead, dying or running, though they had nowhere to go.

A dark-haired druzhina came at Orka in a blur, a glimpse of long moustaches tied with silver wire, a mouth drawn in a snarl, sabre darting over the top- rim of a black shield.

Orka swept the first blow away with her axe, stepped back a pace, defending against adder-hissing blows. Then Gunnar was leaping between them.

"Sulich," he cried, "stop, stop."

Sulich froze, looked at Gunnar, then at Orka. He lowered his sabre.

Halja was there then, gripping Sulich's wrist and grinning.

"Well met," Sulich said, "well met." He sucked in a breath, smiled. "Your timing," he drew in another ragged breath, "is very good."

"This is Jarl Orlyg," Orka said, gesturing to the white-haired jarl as he drew near to them. His face was blood-spattered. "Orlyg, this is Sulich of the Bloodsworn."

"Well met, Sulich of the Bloodsworn," Orlyg said. "I am glad to help you."

"We have more enemies to kill yet," Sulich said, and pointed. His warriors had been pushed into a central knot by the crews of two drakkars . Orka and Orlyg had cleared one crew, but the other remained, battle raging only a dozen or so paces away.

"Well, what are we waiting for," Orlyg said with a grin.