CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE ORKA

CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

ORKA

O rka stalked through the battle, a seax in each fist, striking at any who dared come close enough. Skraeling, dragon-cultists, frost-spiders, a troll, all fell before her. Breca was at her right shoulder, S?unn with him, Gunnar and Halja at her left.

Lik-Rifa and Ulfrir loomed out of the swirling snow and darkness, Lik-Rifa half flying, Ulfrir hanging onto her, his jaws clamped in the flesh of her shoulder, dragging her crashing to the ground, tearing up great rents in the earth, snow and mud spraying. She roared and twisted, Ulfrir's jaws ripping free in an explosion of scales and flesh and blood, the wolf rolling, coming to his feet crouched and snarling, Lik-Rifa's razored tail lashing him across the chest, opening up red lines across his fur, throwing him to the ground. Lik-Rifa roaring and leaping after him.

Skuld swept out of the snow-veiled sky, hurled herself at Lik-Rifa's head and Orka saw her reach to her belt, grasp a pair of long-bladded scissors.

"For my mother," Skuld shrieked as she crashed onto Lik-Rifa's head, one hand grasping onto horned scales, the other stabbing the scissors into one of Lik-Rifa's eyes. There was a wild, frenzied roar and Lik-Rifa shook her head, great muscles of her neck bunching and Skuld was hurled into the darkness.

Then Ulfrir was back on his feet, snarling and slavering, blood leaking from the long wound across his chest and he and Lik-Rifa were leaping at each other again.

Orka strode on, searching. Saw Jarl Orlyg and his drengrs locked in a press of shield walls, saw that the warriors striving against him carried grey shields with black ravens upon them, and wore raven-feathers in their hair.

Orka turned towards them.

A handful of frost-spiders appeared scuttling across the snow, ran at Orka and her group, one leaping into the air, hurtling towards her, fangs twitching. It crashed into her, Orka stabbing as they fell together, a flurry of punching blows. Orka slammed into the ground, twisted her head, the frost-spider's fangs biting into the snow where Orka's head had been. Her blades were both buried deep into the abdomen of the spider, her hands and arms pinned by the creature's weight, and the fangs reared back, over Orka, blue-tinged venom dripping from them. Then Breca was screeching and stabbing his short spear into the spider's clustered eyes, ripping the blade out and stabbing again and again, ice-crusted ichor spraying. The spider shuddered and died and Orka pushed it off, dragged her blades free, crouched and wiped both seaxes across the glistening, venom-soaked fangs. She sheathed one of the blades and swept up a hand-axe lying on the ground. Then she was standing and moving on, breaking into a jog as she weaved across the battleground, making her way to Orlyg and his warband. Drew closer and then she saw him.

Drekr.

He was leading a handful of Raven-Feeders, approaching Orlyg's shield wall from the rear. Had his long-axe in his hands, the warriors around him all with shields and spears, axes, swords. With a roar they hit the back of Orlyg's warriors, carved into them.

Panic spread through Orlyg's warriors and Orka broke into a run, saw the wall was bursting apart, Orlyg bellowing orders, Dagrun and a handful of drengrs left about him. Drekr raised his long-axe and swung it down, smashing into Orlyg's shield, carving through it, hurling Orlyg to the ground. Drekr stamped on the shield, ripped his axe blade free and smashed his axe-haft into Dagrun's jaw, hurling him to the ground. He stood over Orlyg, one foot on his shield, pinning him, swung his axe high and chopped down into Orlyg's head.