CHAPTER THIRTY ORKA

CHAPTER THIRTY

ORKA

O rka groaned, pushed herself up from the deck of the Sea-Wolf , searching for Breca. He was close beside her, face down on the deck.

"Breca," she wheezed, the air hot in her lungs.

"Mama," Breca groaned.

Orka rose to one knee, saw that where Vol had stood flames still crackled amidst the steam, glimmers of red and gold, blue and white, and slowly the wind tore at the steam, shredding it to tatters and sweeping it away. Vol was standing there, her rune-shield buckled, cracked in places, but intact, her feet set, arms at her side, head hanging. She looked up, a white-blue balefire lit in her eyes.

"Hamar af ís, brjóttu hann, reipi af ís, mylja hann," she cried out, and two ice-glowing rune-shields appeared, one shifting into the shape of a hammer, rising up and crashing into the first rune-wielder's red-shields. They rippled and buckled, the man stopping, words pouring from his mouth in a gasped chant. His shield flickered, red runes dim and guttering, then flared bright again. The second ice-rune sped towards the second rune-wielder, becoming tendrils of ice that whipped at the druzhina guarding him, sent them leaping away, wrapped around one, frost spreading across his body, crystallising, tightening, crushing, and he burst apart in an explosion of ice-shards. The other tendrils hit the rune-wielder's red shield, steam hissing as the strands curled and coiled around the dome of runes like vines around an ancient wall. The red runes began to crumble, cracks and fissures opening as frost spread through them and the rune-wielder cried out a new spell, panic lacing his voice.

Orka saw the cracks and holes appear in the rune-wielder's shield, snatched up a spear on the decking and hurled it, saw it fly through a gap made by the coils of ice in the rune-shield. It struck the rune-wielder in the shoulder, spinning him. His rune-shield flickered, wavered, disappeared for a moment as he crashed back into an oar-chest. With a scream he ripped the spear from his shoulder, began chanting, even as Vol began a new song.

Before either of them could finish their spells, a shadow fell across the deck of the Sea-Wolf . There was a squawking from up above, a great wind beating Orka back to the ground, and she looked up, saw two giant ravens swooping from the sky, talons extended. One of them grabbed the rune-wielder and in a turbulence of wings dragged him screaming into the air. Orka heard his voice chanting, saw runes crackle into existence around him as the first raven climbed higher in looping spirals above the Sea-Wolf . The second raven swept in with its talons extended, grabbing his limbs and then the two ravens were flying apart, a wet ripping sound and the crackle of bones breaking. Screams filtered down to them, rising higher in pitch and abruptly ending. Blood spattered onto the deck of the Sea-Wolf . A thud as a severed arm hit the timber.

Vol turned and looked to the first rune-wielder, who was frantically repairing the cracks in his shield from the ice-hammer and was chanting, deep and low, more flaming runes flickering before him.

Vol began to walk towards him, singing her keening song as she went.

"Sjóvindur blása, sjóstormur og úei sópa tessum logum í burtu," Vol growled, and with a wave of her hands a great wind hissed across the deck of the Sea-Wolf , tearing at the new runes. A wave rose up over the deck and crashed down upon the rune-wielder, his rune-shield of flames hissing, fissures rippling through it, the man within staggering back, crying out as his rune-shield was swept away. He stood there a startled moment, then raised his hands, incomprehensible words pouring from his mouth in a panicked gush.

"Binddu munninn, bindeu ?kkla hans," another voice called out, Orka looking to see the short-haired woman who had been casting her Seier-spells on the knarr climbing onto the Sea-Wolf , blue-ice glimmering around her fists. The bull-like black warrior loomed at her shoulder, Sulich, Orlyg and a knot of warriors following them. Orka heard the clatter of oars, looked beyond Sulich and his crew, and saw the last drakkar limping away from the knarr , heading south.

"Binddu munninn, bindeu ?kkla hans," the short-haired woman said again, and a clustered weave of frost-vines snaked out from her blue-glowing hands, slithering across the deck and wrapping around the rune-wielder's ankles, hoisting him into the air, other vines snaking down binding his arms to his torso, spiralling onto his neck, wrapping around his throat and mouth and gently squeezing. He squawked and gasped, words muffled, then he was silent. The runes that had been sparking to life guttered and died like a snuffed candle.

Vol looked to the short-haired woman.

"Iva," she said, gave her a nod of thanks and walked towards the captured man, her rune-shield crackling and melting away. She sang softly, a high, piercing sound ululating from her lips as she approached him, came to stand before him as he dangled helplessly, twisting gently in the breeze.

Orka became aware of a sound behind her, turned to see the sea churning, a rippling wake appearing as something approached beneath the waves, as it drew nearer hints of a serpentine body undulating through the flotsam that floated around the Sea-Wolf . It was close to the Sea-Wolf now, close to where Orka stood. She put a hand onto Breca's shoulder, moving him away from the top-rail, hefting her long-axe, and a reptilian head was breaching the waves, rearing high to peer onto the deck of the Sea-Wolf , water cascading from a scaled head, mouth opening to reveal rows of razored teeth.

"Sjávarorm," Orka called out, pushing Breca back and setting her feet, raising her long-axe.

"Let it be," Vol called out and Orka held back her axe swing, stepped away instead.

The sea serpent's head reared above the top-rail, as big as a wagon, staring at Orka with unblinking eyes, then focusing on Vol as she returned to her keening song. The creature's head swayed over the top-rail and lowered onto the deck with a meaty slap, its thick-scaled body slithering out of the sea and onto the deck. As it rippled past Orka she saw that other, smaller, black-scaled serpents were clinging to its body, each as long as a good ash spear, looking like thick woven braids of rope upon her trunk.

A mother with her young , Orka realised.

Vol continued to sing as the serpent approached her, putting out a hand and stroking the creature's head as it reached her. It slithered around the dangling man, head rearing, tongue flickering to caress him. His eyes bulged and he let out a muffled scream.

"You should not have come against the Bloodsworn," Vol said, "should not have slain my friends", and she gave a flick of her hand. The serpent reared high on its muscled trunk and opened its jaws wide, engulfed the man from head to waist. Iva muttered something and the frost-vines around his ankles shattered, releasing him. He fell, his legs dangling from the serpent's mouth, but she did not eat him in one gulp as Orka expected. Instead, she spat the man's body onto the deck, then twisted her head to look back at the young clustered upon her back and hissed at them. They detached themselves from her body and slipped onto the deck, squirming around. One found a pool of blood, its tongue flickering out and it began to drink, sucking and slurping. The adult serpent gently nudged the young serpent away from the blood and towards the man on the deck, who was squirming and wriggling, his arms still wrapped tight to his torso, his mouth still bound with the vines of ice. She slithered around her young, herding them towards the man on the deck, then reared back and darted forwards, faster than Orka thought possible, mouth open, fangs bared, her mouth closing about the man's torso, but she did not bite, her fangs just grazing him. Then she drew back and hissed at her young.

"What is she doing?" Breca whispered.

"She is teaching her young to hunt, like me teaching you to fight," Orka breathed, finding herself smiling. "A mother preparing her children for the world we all live in. See," and as she spoke the young serpents squirmed around the man, letting their tongues flicker upon him. Then one reared back and lunged forwards, bit into the man's thigh. He kicked and spasmed, his eyes bulging, veins and tendons standing thick in his neck as he strained, but the serpent's fangs had sunk deep, and it clung to him. Then the other serpents were darting in, hissing and biting, the man's muffled screams seeping through the ice that bound his mouth, blood leaking and smearing the deck from myriad wounds. All the young serpents joined the attack except one, which slithered up to Vol and coiled around her feet. She looked down at it and smiled. Then the mother serpent was gently grabbing the man's torso and dragging him towards the Sea-Wolf 's top-rail, her young all still attached to him, leaving a trail of blood across the deck. She reared over the rail and dropped the man into the sea, Orka looking and seeing the young serpents dragging his body beneath the waves. The mother serpent looked back at Vol and the one young serpent that remained at Vol's feet. It hissed at Vol and with a creak and groan of timber it was rippling over the top-rail and diving into the sea; with a splash and ripple of white foam it was gone. The serpent at Vol's feet coiled around her ankles and began to spiral up one leg, reached her waist and slithered around it, latched onto Vol's forearm, and coiled around it. Vol stroked its head with her free hand.

A silence fell over the Sea-Wolf , just the slapping of waves against the hull and the hiss of the wind. Then shadows were rippling across the deck and there was a flapping of wings as the two ravens descended, spiralling downwards. A storm of wind rocked Orka on her feet as the ravens landed, one on the prow and one on the top-rail. The one on the rail looked down at the sea where the serpent had disappeared.

"Grok glad the big snake is gone," the raven squawked.

"Snakes taste good, but Kló not trust the big ones," the other raven croaked. "They bite back." Then she began to preen her feathers.

A flutter of wings and Vesli appeared, the bag at her belt stuffed to overflowing with fresh teeth, blood-smeared and with slivers of flesh still dangling. She flew to Breca and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight.

"Vesli missed master Breca," she squeaked, "Vesli worried for him."

"I have missed you, too," Breca said, stroking the tennúr's head.

Vesli fluttered back and alighted upon Breca's shield rim. She looked around, at Gunnar and Halja, Lif and S?unn. "Where Vesli's friend, Spert?" Vesli asked.

Breca's lip trembled, and a fat tear slid down his cheek and he just shook his head.

Vesli's face crinkled and tears welled in her big eyes.

"No," she wailed.

Jarl Orlyg looked from the weeping Vesli to the two giant ravens preening themselves to the young serpent coiled around Vol's forearm.

"Strange company you Bloodsworn keep," he said.