CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE VARG

CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

VARG

V arg stared about the great hall of Ulfrir, everywhere seething fire and flame and billowing clouds of smoke and ash. The fallen Froa-spirit lay spread across the ground, its body consumed by fire, and looking up at the great tree he saw the inferno crackling up its trunk like fast-growing vines, spreading along the first branches now. He stared up at the roof, where Lik-Rifa had flown, or fled, and glimpsed tiny figures on the stairwell.

"Have we won?" he said to Svik. "Is the dragon beaten? Routed?"

"Routed, yes. Beaten, no. Not until she is dead," Svik said, then he grinned. "But it is a good start. And while she is gone we need to put her war-host in the ground."

They were standing with R?kia and Einar, ?sa and Edel and a handful of the Bloodsworn, cut off from following Glornir and the others up the stairwell by the spreading flames.

"Where shall we start?" Varg asked. The hall was in chaos. Flames were spreading, and clouds of choking smoke were obscuring much of the chamber. Frost-spiders scuttled in and out of the smoke, warbands were formed in small shield walls, both Elvar's mercenaries and Lik-Rifa's. Varg glimpsed the locked shields of Elvar's Battle-Grim, Sighvat at their centre, fighting alongside Jarl Orlyg's warband, pushing a seething mass of skraeling away from the dais and back to the open doors. Ulfrir was beset by trolls and dragon-born, their rune-fire crackling, forming walls of fire in an attempt to herd Ulfrir back to the flames that were consuming the great tree, a swarm of trolls trying to hem the wolf in. A handful of the trolls were clubbing one of the stone wolves, great chunks of rock smashed to powder, the wolf limping, one of its legs shattered, half of it missing.

"There," Svik said, pointing to the stone wolf, and without waiting for an answer Svik was moving through the hall, shield and sword in his fists. Varg followed, automatically going to Svik's left to protect his flank, R?kia moving to Svik's right. The rest of the Bloodsworn followed, spreading like a wedge, and they cut their way across the hall. Varg smashed skraeling to the ground, hacked at frost-spiders as they scuttled at him, punched warriors with his shield, and then they were emerging from a cloud of smoke, the stone wolf fallen to the ground before them, trolls raining blows upon it.

Edel took three quick steps and hurled her spear, Varg seeing it slam into the lower back of a troll as it lifted its club two-handed over its head. It let out a great bellow and staggered back, reaching for the spear in its back, grabbed it and ripped it free. Then Einar was there, the troll swinging its club at him. Einar stepped away, gave the club a glancing blow with his shield, steering it into the ground, and his axe was swinging, chopping into the meat of the troll's wrist, half severing it with his bearded axe. The troll lifted its arm, blood spurting from the wound, its wrist dangling by a strip of skin, and Einar chopped his axe into its knee, wrenched the blade free and the troll swayed and toppled, Einar burying his axe into the back of its neck, ripped the blade free in a spurt of blood.

Two of the trolls turned on them, roaring, one swinging a club, another stabbing at ?sa with a huge spear. She leaped away from it, the spear blade stabbing deep into the ground in an explosion of earth and ?sa leaped onto the spear, wide as a sapling, and ran up its shaft nimble as a goat. Laughing, she leaped from it and stabbed her seax into one of the troll's eyes. It roared and fell backwards, a great cloud of dust rising around it, ?sa landing, striding to the troll and ripping her seax free. The injured stone wolf threw itself at the last troll, knocking it to the ground, and the Bloodsworn surrounded it, stabbing and chopping until it was dead.

A cry behind them, Varg turning, his wolf-ears catching it.

"Refna and the children," he said.

"Where?" Einar said and Varg pointed. Einar broke into a lumbering run, Varg and the others following, swerving around flames, holding their breath as they ran through clouds of smoke. They burst into clean air and Varg saw Refna and the other children. They were being herded from one of the huge corridors that led from the chamber, warriors and skraeling around them, and Varg skidded to a halt, a cold fist clenching around his heart.

Brák Trolls-Bane led them, and he was dragging Refna by her hair, a seax in his fist. Refna was spitting and snarling and screaming for Einar. The wolf in Varg's blood growled, low and menacing, and Varg felt the hairs on his neck stand on end.

Einar roared and ran at them, Varg a few paces behind.

Brák saw Einar coming and stopped, raised his hand to the crew behind him and they stuttered to a halt. Brák held Refna up and put his seax to her throat. Einar skidded to a halt, just ten paces from Brák, Varg halting beside him, Svik, R?kia and the others spreading in a line, snarling at Brák and his crew.

"Let her go," Einar said.

"Now, why would I do that?" Brák said. He was narrow-featured, a sharp nose and a scraggly beard, his skin weathered as bark. He wore leather, fur and mail, a necklace of troll tusks around his neck, a slim sword at his weapons belt, and Varg saw a multitude of seaxes and knives upon him, some hanging on his belt, more strapped to arms and legs.

"It will go better for you if you do," Einar growled.

"Ah, do not be making threats at me, big man. I've fought bigger than you and lived to tell the tale." He brushed the blade of his seax across the tusks on his necklace. "They do not call me Trolls-Bane for nothing." His gaze swept those with Einar, settling upon Varg. He smiled.

"Now there's an angry man, if ever I saw one," he said. "What did I do, kill your mother?"

"My sister," Varg said, a grating growl.

"Ah, well, I'd like to say I'm sorry, but I'm not. This is Vigrie, after all, and I'm sure your sister deserved it."

Varg took a pace forwards, and Brák put his seax back to Refna's throat, held a fistful of her hair in his other fist. Refna's eyes flickered green, her mouth twisting in a snarl and her hands grasped up, Varg seeing the nails grow long and dark as she raked Brák's hand and wrist, blood welling. He cried out and let go, stabbed with his seax. Refna dropped to the ground and rolled away, came up on crouched legs, hands curled into claws.

"I'll gut you for that, you little troll-shite," Brák snarled. Then Einar was roaring and running, Varg, Svik, R?kia and the rest of the Bloodsworn a pace behind him.

Brák danced away from Einar's axe swing, sliced with his seax, drawing a red line across Einar's forearm, then stepped away, calmly drew his slim sword.

Varg charged, shield and hand-axe in his fists, saw two skraeling running at him, twisted and took a hammering blow on his shield, pushed the skraeling away, ducked the second's hacking blow at his head and chopped his hand-axe into the skraeling's belly, ripped the blade left to right, spilling the creature's intestines in a steaming heap. Glimpsed R?kia, Edel and ?sa locked in combat with Brák's crew. Einar and Svik were attacking Brák, Tainted warriors and skraeling spreading wide around them, a handful of them circling Svik, moving him away from Einar.

They fight like wolves separating an elk from the herd.

Einar roared and swung at Brák, a flurry of blows, axe swing, shield rim, backswing with the axe, punch with the shield boss, Brák retreating, stepping away, Einar's blows hissing past him. Brák struck back, short, fast blows with sword and seax, grating on Einar's shield, stabbing under, slipping around the rim and Einar shuffled back, blocking, grunting, chopped with his axe as Brák moved in, but then Brák was stepping away, a shuffle of feet to place him behind Einar, slashing his sword across Einar's calf, the big warrior crying out, stumbling.

"NO," Varg yelled, saw Svik hacking his way out of the ring around him, heard R?kia' s snarl, and he was running.

There was a blur of movement to his left, an impact on his shield, and he stumbled, falling to one knee, a spear stabbing at his neck. He dropped to the ground, lost his grip on his shield, rolled away, came up in a snarling crouch, axe in one hand, his other reaching for his cleaver.

A dozen warriors spread before Varg, R?kia, Edel and ?sa, cutting them off from Einar and Svik. Two men led them, coming at Varg, one dark-haired and bearded, gripping shield and spear, the other with lank fair hair, shield and sword in his fists.

"It feels like I have travelled the whole world to find you, Varg Kolskegg's-thrall," Leif Kolskeggson said. Another dozen warriors came from behind Leif and Sterkur and hurled themselves at the Bloodsworn, all holding shields with a golden eye upon them.

"I do not know you well," Sterkur said, "but I hate you already for the dance you have led me." Leif and Sterkur stepped wide around him, one to Varg's left, one to his right. The rest of Sterkur's crew were spreading around R?kia, Edel and ?sa, and beyond them Varg glimpsed Einar limping after Brák, who stepped away from him, just out of range. Then he was lunging in, stabbing beneath Einar's shield. Einar slammed his shield rim down onto Brák's sword, trapping it, punched the shield boss into Brák's body, hurling him to the ground and Einar was stepping after him, raising his axe. Another warrior behind Einar stabbed a spear into the meat of his leg, Einar roaring, twisting as he fell and hacking at the warrior, burying his axe in the man's side, ripped his axe out in a spray of rings and blood even as he fell to one knee. Brák was back on his feet and dancing swiftly in as Einar turned to face him, stabbed his sword over the top rim of Einar's shield, the slim blade plunging deep into Einar's throat, the tip bursting out from the back of Einar's neck, dark blood welling. Svik's wild scream, R?kia's savage howl.

"Get out of my way," Varg snarled and ran at Sterkur.