CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR ORKA

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

ORKA

O rka crashed into the gap that Glornir and Thorguna had made in the Raven-Feeder's shield wall, holding her long-axe in both fists, ripping the blade across a belly, rings spraying, blood welling, punched the butt end into a face, mashing lips, knocking teeth out, bursting a nose, and then she was through, spinning. She swung her axe two-handed and chopped it into the back and shoulder of a warrior, carving through his mail, snapping bone, the warrior crying out and falling. Orka ripped the blade free and stumbled on, saw Thorguna on the ground, a spear blade protruding from her back where it had pierced her belly, two corpses lying beneath her with their throats mangled, other dead piled around her.

Beyond Thorguna, Glornir was on the ground, Drekr on top of him. Both were holding Glornir's long-axe, Drekr trying to crush the haft into Glornir's throat, both with their beasts raging through their bodies, eyes blazing, frothing and snarling, muscles bunched in great straining knots. Shouts and screams behind Orka, the Bloodsworn slamming into the Raven-Feeders to reach their chief, heard Vol and Skalk shouting their Galdur- and Seier-spells at each other. Orka righted her balance and ran at Drekr, saw Glornir crunch his knee up into Drekr's groin, Drekr sagging as Glornir twisted, throwing him onto the turf where he rolled, came up onto his feet, pulling a hand-axe from his belt in one fist, seax in the other.

Glornir was on his feet, moving on Drekr, who did not wait for him, striking a flurry of blows, Glornir raising his long-axe and blocking them with the shaft of his axe. A spray of splinters, a crack, and Glornir's axe-haft snapped. Glornir threw the blade at Drekr's head, shrugging his shield from his back and drew his sword. Then Orka shoved past Glornir, her long-axe swinging, a diagonal blow from right to left, chopping down at Drekr. He twisted away, struck Orka's axe blade with his hand-axe, knocking it wide and Orka's momentum carried her on, the axe blade chopping into turf. Drekr lunged with his seax at Orka's belly. She arched her back, Drekr's blade grating on rings, let go of her axe-haft and grabbed Drekr's ring mail, dragged him towards her and bit at his throat, felt flesh tearing, blood bursting into her mouth, heard him scream, shouting unheard words, and then heat was washing through her body, pain a heartbeat behind it and she was hurling herself away, rolling in the turf. Glornir's voice, the clash and grate of steel over her, Glornir's legs planted before her and she was pushing herself up, saw Drekr with blood matting his beard where Orka had bitten him, sluicing down his neck. His eyes were glowing red, Orka realising he had spouted some Seier-spell at her, scalding her.

Glornir and Drekr were trading blows, Glornir's feet set, shield raised, sword slicing out, Drekr moving around him, chopping and stabbing with axe and seax. Orka saw her long-axe and scrambled to it, ripped it out of the turf as another figure ran at Glornir's side, Ilska the Cruel with her sword and shield before her, snarling at Glornir. Orka stepped before her, Ilska twisting and slicing at her, Orka deflecting the blow with the haft of her axe, knocking it wide and slamming her axe blade into Ilska's shield, sending her stumbling to her left. Orka followed, chopping with the blade of her axe, then punching with the haft of the axe, denting and splintering Ilska's shield. Ilska found her balance, set her feet and she was stabbing and slicing at Orka, pushing her back across the turf until Orka was standing back-to-back with Glornir. They stood there, Drekr and Ilska slipping around them, stabbing, chopping, probing, Glornir and Orka blocking and countering, the world shrinking to the edge of steel, rasp of breath, shuffle of feet.

Orka was dimly aware of combat swirling around them, Bloodsworn and Raven-Feeders, frost-spiders and skraeling, the sound of Breca's bear-cub growl, his wolf-cub snarl, the clatter of weapons on shields as Lif and S?unn swirled around him. Vol and Skalk in their duel of runes, flames of frost and fire crackling around them. A snatched glimpse of Skalk staggering, blue flames consuming his Galdur-staff. A crack and it burst apart, splinters exploding, and Skalk was hurled from his feet, raised up into the air, his arms stretching wide. He started screaming. Vol shouted and Skalk convulsed, the sound of bones cracking, and he dropped to the ground, limbs twisted, neck broken.

A frost-spider threw itself at Orka and she twisted, hacked it out of the air with her axe, sent it slamming to the ground in an explosion of dark ichor and fragments of exoskeleton, ducked low under Drekr's axe swing and pushed forwards, punched her axe-haft into his gut, doubling him over, slammed the haft up into his face, sending him reeling back a few steps, tripping over the body of the frost-spider, Orka striding after him, raising her axe.

"NO," Ilska cried, seeing Orka and chopping hard at Glornir, trying to get through him to Drekr's side. Glornir took a step back and to his right, moving between Ilska and Drekr, stabbed low, under Ilska's shield, and she dropped the shield to trap his blade, but he had already pulled it back, a feint, and he stabbed high, into the space her shield had just left, his sword punching into the soft flesh just above the line of Ilska's brynja . A grunt and gasp from her and she staggered back two paces, blood spurting, tried to pull her shield up and sword back, but her strength was failing. Glornir ripped his blade free and slammed his shield into her, sending her sprawling on her back, stepped over her and chopped down, blade hacking into her neck.

"ILSKA," Drekr roared, deflecting Orka's axe as it swung down at his chest, batting it away with his hand-axe, eyes blazing red, new strength in his limbs. He kicked at Orka's legs, sent her staggering back, surged to his feet and threw himself into Orka, lifting her from the ground, both of them flying through the air, crashing down and rolling. Orka lost her axe, punched and snarled and bit at Drekr, rolled free of him and came to her feet, snarling, hands reaching for the seaxes at her belt.

A distant rumble, and a heartbeat later Orka felt the ground shift beneath her and staggered. A pressure, inside her head. Another rumble, louder, followed by a stronger tremor, all left standing on the hilltop stumbling and swaying, combatants parting, searching for the source of the tremors. The pressure inside her head growing, like a wind rising, hissing. Another rumble, louder, the ground shuddering. A tearing sound and a crack opened in the earth between Orka and Drekr.

She staggered away, shaking her head, saw others about her doing the same. Looked around, stared into the distance. Narrowed her eyes. Something was wrong with the Boneback Mountains. They were … moving, great avalanches of snow rolling down the towering slopes, huge eruptions of snow and ice exploding, rising high as the clouds.

The wind inside her head became a howling gale, an almost discernible voice swirling within it.

"Snaka," Vol hissed, and Orka looked to the north-west, to Snakavik. Blinked, grimaced and shook her head.

The skull of Snaka was shifting, moving, a cloud of dust rising around it. And an amber light flickered and blazed in those long empty sockets.

"No," Orka breathed. "What has Lik-Rifa done?" As she stared the skull rose from the rock and sea, no longer the grey-white of old bones, new scales growing, spreading, rippling across the contours of the skull, grey and green, the jaws rising up, teeth long and glinting, gums showing pink with fresh blood, a blue-black tongue flickering out. The serpent twisted its head left and right, thick muscles on a sinuous neck flexing, rippling as dread Snaka rose from his long death, and a wordless voice roared in Orka's head, loud and fierce as a winter storm.

Snaka looked down at the fjord before him, glowering at one of the fleets from Iskidan as it sailed into the fjord. He stretched his mouth wide, revealing teeth as thick and long as the trees of the Iron Wood, his black tongue flickering out. The rock and earth of the mountain, hundreds of years and layers of sediment that had settled about Snaka's bones, began to fall away from him like water flowing from a dog emerging from a stream. A huge, roaring crash as the weight of a mountain smashed into the fjord of Snakavik, a wall of water rising up, exploding away from Snaka and sweeping the fleet up and away like leaves, crashing down on the longships and crushing them, smashing them, and in a few heartbeats the fleet was gone.

All along the line of the Bonebacks the mountains were rippling and heaving, snow and rock sliding in great jagged sheets, huge clouds of earth erupting into the air, and Orka saw the ground rippling and tremoring like someone shaking a rug, undulating across the land of Vigrie in an ever-growing roar.

Snaka rose up higher, his great head blocking the sun, huge, razored scales spreading wide upon his skull and flowing into knotted ridges upon his back. He reared, tall as the sky, and then dived, head crashing into the sea before him, his long, sinuous body slithering into the ocean, the water exploding, another great wave forming, rearing high and sweeping out into the great-green, storming along the coast of Vigrie, submerging it. And Orka saw the silhouette of Lik-Rifa flying in the air, following the line of the coast. Snaka's head emerged from the sea in a great burst of water, salt spray sparkling in the sun, another fleet of Iskidan's longships hurled into the air and smashed to splintered flotsam. Lik-Rifa flew to Snaka's head, swirled around it, and then she was flying inland, across land, back towards Wolfdales.

And Snaka followed her, his body slithering out of the sea and undulating across the land, tearing up forests, crushing hills in his passage.

Orka put a hand to her head, squeezed it, trying to shake free the storm that was Snaka, his presence like wasps in her thought-cage, like the weight of the deep ocean pressing down upon her.

Through the fog she realised one thing.

Lik-Rifa is bringing him here.

The ground beneath Orka's feet was shuddering now, throwing people from their feet, great rents opening up, clumps of rock and earth falling away, tumbling into the chamber below them. Orka looked around, searching for Breca, saw Glornir grimacing, sheathing his sword and stumbling to Vol, grabbing her wrist and pulling her with him. A flash of movement to Orka's right and she saw Drekr was on his feet, snarling, axe raised, running in a swaying stumble at her, the rumble of Snaka's rising masking his approach. Orka tried to turn and pull a seax from her belt, but the world was moving, bucking and heaving. A shape swept down out of the sky, small and hairless, Vesli, teeth bared in a snarl, long-fingered hands and claws reaching. She crashed into Drekr's head and wrapped her arms around him, claws raking at his flesh, teeth biting into his head. Drekr cried out, stumbling away and he was falling, rolling down the hill with Vesli still clinging to him, disappearing.

"BLOODSWORN," Glornir cried out, the bear in his voice roaring loud as Snaka's approach. "WITH ME," he bellowed and set off at a lumbering, drunk-swaying run across the hilltop. Orka saw Breca with Lif and S?unn, the three of them trying to reach her and Orka stumbled to them, swept Breca up in her arms and they were all following Glornir, zigzagging across the hill, huge tears and holes opening up in the ground and falling, spinning away into the vastness of the chamber beneath them. Glornir had stopped, Orka reaching him and seeing that he stood at the edge of a great cliff, the River Falinn far below. Halja skidded to a halt beside them, looked over the edge and grinned.

"Wolves behind, a cliff ahead," she said.

"JUMP," Glornir shouted and then he was leaping from the cliff, hand in hand with Vol.

Orka looked at Breca, squeezed him tight.

"I love you with all that I am," she snarled, and leaped from the cliff with Breca in her arms.