Library

CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR VARG

CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR

VARG

V arg ran at Brák Trolls-Bane, swift and silent as the hunting wolf. He saw Iva and Silrie battling with Seier and Galdur-runes, saw a ball of flame engulf Iva, only to be extinguished by an ice-carved rune, saw Iva hurl a rolling wheel of ice at Silrie, who slammed her staff into the ground, red flaming vines snaking out from its base and wrapping themselves around the ice-rune, snaring it, evaporating the ice in a hissing burst of steam.

Taras was bellowing, turning in a slow circle as warriors darted in and out at him, bleeding him with small wounds and darting back out again. Varg knew how those wounds would slow the bull-man, the loss of blood, the damage to muscle and tendon. He had seen Kolskegg do it to a troll that had wandered inside the boundaries of Kolskegg's farm. Brák stepped in behind Taras and slashed his sword across Taras' calf, just as he had done to Einar, Taras bellowing and twisting around, roaring, muscles bunching, veins bulging as he gathered himself to charge, and then another warrior was moving in behind him, jabbing at him with a spear.

Varg hefted his axe and seax and smashed into the ring around Taras, chopped his axe into a man's ribs, heard them crack, saw blood spurt as he ripped the blade free, stumbled on into the next warrior, a dark-haired woman in trapper's furs, Varg burying his seax in her belly, shoving her away and she fell onto her back. Then he was at Taras' side, R?kia, Svik, Edel and ?sa tearing through the rest of Brák's crew.

"Are you all right, big man?" Varg asked Taras.

"Little man wouldn't fight Taras," he said, "kept stabbing Taras from behind." He glowered at Brák over Varg's shoulder. "Cowards," he said.

Behind Taras Iva clapped her hands, stamped one foot and the ground shook, a fissure opening up and Silrie fell into it with a wail. Runes glowed within the fissure. Another shouted word from Iva, and another stamp of her foot, and the ground shifted, the crack closing, earth falling into it, burying Silrie. A wail that became muffled, followed by a choking gasp and then nothing.

Iva walked over to Taras, and he put his head on her shoulder.

Varg turned, faced Brák.

"Brák Trolls-Bane, it is your time to die," Varg said, hefted his axe and seax and stepped towards him.

"Many have tried, lad," Brák smiled, then his mouth twisted in a wicked snarl, his eyes shifting colour, turning completely black and he danced a little on his toes. "None have succeeded." He set his feet with his slim sword in his fist, drew one of the many knives from his belt, long and needle-sharp. "Come on, then, let's see what you've got."

"He has the blood of V?sa the weasel," R?kia shouted out to Varg. "Swift, vicious, cunning."

Varg closed his eyes for a heartbeat, Fr?ya's face filling his head, her screams as Brák pinned her to the tree, as he opened her belly.

The wolf in Varg's blood snarled and Varg allowed it to filter through him, felt the strength and speed ripple through his muscle, a tingling energy, and he stepped slowly towards Brák, saw R?kia, Svik and the others spread in a ring around the huntsman, who looked over his shoulder at Svik behind him.

"Do not worry, you little weasel," Svik said. "We'll not be stabbing you in the back, just here to make sure you don't decide to try and sneak off."

Then Brák was moving, a short-stepped shuffle at Varg, moving left, stabbing with his sword, and Varg swept the blade aside with his hand-axe. Brák pushed right off his back leg, slashed with his knife at Varg's face and Varg leaned back, checked it with his own seax, then Brák was moving around to his left, fast, out of range and back in, stabbing with the sword, straight at Varg's chest. Varg blocked it but stumbled back a step. Brák coming after him, sword stabbing high, blocked, knife stabbing low, up at Varg's groin, slashed away, a spin and Brák was at Varg's side, cracked his sword hilt into Varg's head as Varg swung his hand-axe, slicing Brák's side as Brák was stepping away, cut through leather, a red line welling. Brák brushed the back of his hand across the wound, knuckles coming away red, a twist of his lips. Varg stumbled back a few steps, knees abruptly weak, limbs loose, trying to put some space between them, give his head time to recover from the blow. He shook his head, snarled as Brák came in again, sword and seax a blur and there was a hot line across his forearm, another along the inside of his thigh, just below his brynja . He slashed at Brák with his seax but cut only air, turned as Brák danced away, moving to Varg's left, a heartbeat and Brák was coming back in again, a flurry of blows with sword and knife, Varg stepping back before him, blocking more and more wildly, another line of fire across the back of his hand and he grunted with pain. The wolf in him snapped and growled.

Let me rip and tear and rend him , the wolf snarled.

No , Varg told the wolf.

He is controlling this, fighting his way , Varg thought. Remember the pugil ring . And then he was moving, stepping after Brák rather than waiting for him, using his axe and seax like fists, stabbing at Brák to keep him off balance, stop him from setting his feet, then stepping to left or right, shuffling in quickly, striking in flurries with axe and seax, matching Brák's speed, both of them blocking, countering, block, strike, strike, block, counter-strike, another flurry and they both stepped away, both breathing heavily. Varg felt a red line of pain pulse across his lower leg, another across his cheek. Brák was panting, a cut across one side of his neck, but he was moving back in, swirling around Varg, sword grating across Varg's shoulder, brynja rings spraying, another line of fire across Varg's hand and he dropped his axe, Brák disappearing and Varg was falling to his knee, something wrong with his left leg. He looked up and saw Brák standing over him, his sword pointing at Varg's throat. Brák smiled and lunged.

Now , Varg told his wolf, and fresh strength and speed flooded him. He swayed to his left, the sword grazing his neck, stabbed with his seax and punched it through Brák's foot, felt the blade grate between bone and on, out the other side and into the ground. Heard Brák scream as Varg let go of the seax and launched himself from the ground, using his right leg, his empty hand grabbing Brák's knife hand at the wrist, a savage wrench and he felt bones crack, Brák dropping the knife, Varg's other hand wrapping around Brák's waist, pulling him close, his jaws opening, teeth growing, bit down around Brák's cheek and jaw. Blood spurted into his mouth, Brák screeching, flailing, trying to stab Varg with his sword but Varg was too close, Brák cracking the pommel into Varg's head, but the red rage was on him, and he hardly felt the blow, biting and ripping and tearing. He opened his mouth, releasing Brák, pushed him away, grabbed the hilt of Brák's sword as he did and ripped it from his grip. Spat out a lump of flesh and blood as Brák stumbled back, fell to his knees, hands clutching at his jaw and cheek, blood pulsing between his fingers. Varg strode after him and grabbed his necklace of troll tusks, hauled him half standing and dragged him across the ground, Varg limping towards the treeline. He heard R?kia, Svik and the others following.

He reached the trees and slammed Brák against the first trunk, knocking the wind from him.

"For Fr?ya," he snarled in Brák's face and stabbed Brák's sword into his belly, felt it punch through skin and muscle, felt it slide across the spine and on, out the other side, pierced deep into the trunk of the tree. He stepped back.

Brák screamed and writhed, one hand going to the sword, but he could not reach the hilt, sliced his hand on the blade.

R?kia put two fingers to her lips and whistled.

The rustle and crackle of footsteps on snow, and figures emerged from the shadows, five, eight, ten, more of them. Children. Seaxes glinted in their hands.

Refna Strong-Hands stepped out of the shadows and looked at R?kia.

R?kia looked at Varg. "You are not the only one who is owed vengeance."

Varg nodded.

"Do it," she said, and Refna turned towards Brák, who was whining with pain, taking short, gasping breaths.

"For Einar," Refna said, stepped forwards and she buried her seax to the hilt in Brák's waist. He screamed, high and loud.

The next child stepped forwards, slashed at Brák, then the next, and the next, and Varg watched. He felt R?kia's and Svik's presence.

"Well fought," Svik said to him.

"They are avenged," R?kia said.

Varg dropped to his knees and wept.

Comments

0 Comments
Best Newest

Contents
Settings
  • T
  • T
  • T
  • T
Font

Welcome to FullEpub

Create or log into your account to access terrific novels and protect your data

Don’t Have an account?
Click above to create an account.

lf you continue, you are agreeing to the
Terms Of Use and Privacy Policy.