CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT ORKA

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

ORKA

O rka fought with her two seaxes. They were both red to the hilts. She ducked beneath the sweep of a skraeling's long arm, snarled as she came back up and slashed one of the blades at the creature's thigh, flesh parting, blood streaming, sent it stumbling backwards, crashing into Halja, who slammed her shield into the vaesen and sent it tumbling off the walkway, falling to the ground where the warriors waiting in reserve at the gate pierced it with a dozen spears.

Two more skraeling before her on the walkway, their backs to her, raking claws and hacking at Breca. He took a blow on his shield and stumbled back a pace, set his feet and jabbed at the vaesen with his spear. One swept the spear away and lunged at Breca. As Orka charged she saw Vesli sweep down from above and wrap her claws around the head of one of the skraeling, biting and ripping with her long-taloned nails. The skraeling shrieked, staggered and fell from the wall. Orka took two, three steps, and leaped, crashing into the second skraeling, the two of them falling to the floor, rolling, snarling, biting. Orka twisted and heaved herself on top of the creature and stabbed with both blades, a flurry of blows, blood flying in arcs. She growled and snarled, stabbed again and again and again, slowly realised the skraeling was no longer struggling, limbs flopping. Realised Breca had been stabbing it with his spear, too, his lips drawn back in a snarl. She rose, blood- spattered, breathing hard, saw a face loom at the wall, a socketed helm and red beard. She stabbed, a seax grating along the socket guard of the helm and into red-beard's eye. A rising shriek cut short, and he was falling away, Orka pulling her seax free. She stabbed both seaxes into the timber of the wall and swept up her long-axe, which she had laid down, the fighting too close for long-axe work. Setting the top curve of the axe blade against the strut of the ladder she pushed, felt it move back away from the wall, bent her back to it, but the weight of bodies climbing the ladder was too great and she reached a sticking point, grunted and strained, every sinew bulging. Her feet began to slip, and she was sliding back. Breca grabbed the axe and heaved, too, but still they were sliding backwards. A shadow behind Orka, someone else grasping the haft of her axe and she stopped sliding. A snatched glance over her shoulder and she saw Einar Half-Troll there.

"Together," he said, and all three of them pushed at the blade, sent the ladder toppling back. It teetered a moment in the air, standing upright, then Orka, Einar and Breca shoved again and the ladder was falling away from the wall, screams echoing up.

"My thanks, Half-Troll," Orka grunted.

"You're welcome," Einar said, then went back to restocking the pile of boulders on the walkway. He was able to carry twice as many as any other warrior, so the task had fallen to him.

All along the walkway above the gates battle raged, Orka seeing Elvar fighting with shield and sword, Grend beside her hacking a shield apart with his hand-axe, timber spraying, the warrior behind it half over the wall, one leg still on the ladder. Grend chopped again, his axe smashing through the splintered shield and into the arm of the warrior holding it, ripped his axe free and slashed it across the warrior's face, dented the man's helm, scraped along it and carved a bloody line across cheek and through his nose. A scream and the warrior toppled backwards. Berserkirs around Elvar hacked at two skraeling that had made it over the wall, carving them to pieces.

A lull in the combat, a hesitation from those heaving the ladders against the wall and scrambling up them, and Orka glanced over the palisade, saw the dead piled in heaps before the gates. More warriors carrying ladders were stepping onto the bridge, beyond them mercenary warbands were moving into position, shields lining up. In the eaves of the forest Orka saw huge shadows gathering, twenty, thirty trolls, more, growling, gnashing their teeth and yellowed tusks, spears thick as saplings and clubs banded with iron in their fists. And behind them Orka saw the scuttling, angular movement of frost-spiders, scores of them spreading out from the treeline into the pale day.

"Be ready," Elvar yelled, and all along the wall warriors reset themselves. Glornir stood with Sulich and ?sa, all of them blood-spattered. Sulich had sheathed his bow and had a sabre in one fist, a slim-handled axe in the other.

A rush of movement on the riverbank to Orka's left, beyond the bridge, more rafts being launched. Crowded with drengrs , skraeling and mercenaries, and Orka saw creatures emerging from the water on this side of the river, a line of black-scuttling, segmented creatures, curved tails and stings arching over their backs.

"WARE SPERTUS," Orka cried, ripping her seaxes out of the timber where she had stabbed them and pointing one of her blades.

The cry was taken up, and arrows fizzed and buzzed as the spertus swept up the riverbank and down the other side, into the ditch. Some of them opened their shells and wings spread wide, lifting them into the air. Arrows punched into them, black blood flowing, and many fell crashing to the ground, others pinned to the earth as they scuttled up the embankment. But there were too many and soon scores of them were reaching the embankment wall. Spears stabbed down, slicing into them, but many of the spertus were scrambling over the wall in a flurry of wings and barbed limbs. Then the screaming began.

Warriors walked towards the bridge carrying more ladders, Orka seeing the mercenary bands moving forwards, trolls and frost-spiders following them, and far to her left rafts were skidding onto the nearside riverbank, warriors and skraeling leaping into the shallows and clambering ashore. They ran forwards, up a gentle slope and down into the ditch, disappearing and reappearing again, clambering up the embankment. A handful of arrows flitted down at them, spears stabbing, some falling, and then they were at the wall and heaving themselves over. On the palisade Orka saw black clouds of spertus poison floating in the wind, saw the creatures scuttling, flying, their black stings stabbing, and corpses lay heaped upon the walkway. The resistance on the embankment was fraying, close to breaking.

A thunderous roar drew her eyes and Orka saw the warriors on the bridge parting, a handful of trolls lumbering forwards, bellowing as they came. They all gripped huge, thick-shafted spears or wickedly curved axes, and threw them as they ran. Some hissed over the gate wall, a Berserkir skewered by a spear and hurled from the walkway. Many of the spears and axes thudded deep into the timber of the gates and wall. Orka heard a warrior near to her laughing, mocking the trolls' poor aim, but then the trolls were at the wall, leaping, grabbing hold of the axe and spear shafts and hauling themselves up, roaring as they came. Warriors around Orka stabbed down with spears and swords, dropped rocks, chopped with axes, a troll crying out and falling away, squashing people as he hit the bridge, but others heaved themselves tumbling over the wall, falling onto the walkway and lashing out, sending warriors flying, falling, toppling back into the courtyard behind the gates. And behind the trolls came a swarm of tennúr, whirring out from the Iron Wood and falling upon the defenders of the wall, slashing and raking at faces with their long-taloned hands. Orka cut one from the air with a seax in a spray of blood, turned and stabbed her seax deep into the meat of a troll's thigh, heard it bellow in pain as she ripped the blade free, saw Vesli skewer another tennúr with her small spear. More ladders crashed against the wall, warriors scrambling up them and throwing themselves onto the palisade.

Screams drifted across to her and she saw warriors from the embankment walls falling back, shield walls forming in knots, black clouds of spertus poison hanging in the air.

"The wall is breached," Orka shouted. She looked along the line on the gate-wall and saw trolls, warriors and tennúr everywhere. Kneeling, she wiped her seax blades clean on a corpse's tunic, sheathed them and gripped her long-axe.

"FALL BACK," Elvar bellowed.