CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX ORKA

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX

ORKA

O rka ran at Drekr, a silent thrown spear through the battle that raged about her, just the drum of her feet and rasp of her breathing in her head. Drekr was standing over Orlyg's corpse, ripping his long-axe out of the jarl's shattered skull. Beyond him Orka saw the scuttling movement of frost-spiders in the treeline, a swarm of them surging onto the battlefield from the forest.

Were they scattered after Snaka's destruction of the hall? Only just finding their way back here? Orka thought. Wherever they were from, there were many of them.

Dagrun, Orlyg's son, staggered to his feet, spitting blood from his split lip, where Drekr had smashed his axe-haft into his mouth. He swayed, saw his father on the ground and cried out, hefted his sword and shield and moved towards Drekr. All about them Raven-Feeders were slaughtering the last of Orlyg's drengrs , just a handful of them still fighting, most of those Tainted who had sworn their oaths to Orlyg after Elvar had set them free.

Drekr saw Dagrun coming at him and hefted his long-axe.

Orka spun past Dagrun, slashing her hand-axe at Drekr's face. He saw her and took a step back, grunted as he blocked Orka's blow on the haft of his axe, splinters flying, and Orka was running past him, skidding, burying her seax into the belly of a Raven-Feeder who was chopping at her with a hand-axe, grabbing onto him and turning with him, ripped her seax free as she pushed him into Drekr, who was raising his axe to strike at Orka. The impact knocked Drekr stumbling back. He righted himself, cast the dying Raven-Feeder aside and stalked towards Orka. Behind him the Bloodsworn with Orka hit the Raven-Feeders, Gunnar, Halja and S?unn. Steel clashed and warriors screamed.

"This is your end," Drekr growled at Orka.

"If you cannot bite, you should not show your teeth," Orka snarled back at him, raised her axe high and held the seax low.

He swung his axe and Orka moved, stepping inside his swing, chopped with her hand-axe at his neck, Drekr twisting so that the blow hacked into his shoulder, burst rings apart and Drekr grunted. She stabbed with the seax, the blade grating on Drekr's brynja , but the mail held. Drekr let one hand drop from his axe and he grabbed a fistful of Orka's brynja , dragged her towards him, his eyes flickering red, teeth growing long and sharp, and she realised he intended to rip her flesh. She went with it, smashed the nasal bar of her helm into his face, mashed his upper lip and mouth to pulp and he grunted again, stumbled back, spitting blood, swung his axe, a weak blow merely intended to push her away, give him a moment to recover.

Orka twisted away from the axe swing and stepped after him, swung her hand-axe as Drekr unsteadily shuffled back, hefted the haft of his long-axe two-handed and hooked the beard of her blade, heaved his axe back and ripped her blade from her hands, sent it spinning through the air. Orka came at him, slashing with the seax, a strike across his chest, backswing across his arm and she stepped in, punched the hilt into his face, sent him stumbling back again. She looked at him, nodded to herself, and stepped away, then slowly drew the second seax from its scabbard at her belt.

"I have travelled a long way to return these to you," she said.

"Your husband kept them warm for me," he told her, blood flecking his lips, dripping into his black beard.

"My Thorkel was a better man than you could ever hope to be. And I know you did not fight him fair, had help." She looked into his eyes, saw that her suspicion was true. "Even then, he gave you those scars to remember him by," Orka said. "You should not have come to my steading. If you had not, you would still have your two sisters, and your own life, which I am about to take." He opened his mouth to answer her, but she was already stepping forwards, stabbing and slashing, Drekr holding his axe two-handed, blocking and striking with blade and haft, a flurry of blows given and taken. Orka ducked a swing of Drekr's blade and stepped in close, wrapped her arms around him, hooked a leg behind his and pushed, sending Drekr crashing to the ground. She went with him, sat upon his chest, one seax pressed to his throat, the other blade tip hovering over his eye. Drekr froze, blinked. A flick of Orka's wrist and then she was rising, stepping agilely away.

Drekr rose slowly, scowling at her, and frowning, confused. He spat blood on the snow. A trickle of blood ran down his cheek, a cut under his eye. He stepped towards Orka, and she took a step back. He frowned at her and took another step towards her, and she took another step back.

"What are you doing?" he said.

"Waiting," Orka replied.

"For w … w … what?" he stuttered.

"For the poison to work," she said.

Drekr took another step towards her and staggered, his legs heavy, his movements slow, ponderous. He took another step and swayed. His axe dropped from his fists. Orka saw his muscles twitching, but it was all he could do to remain standing.

"Breca," Orka called, and Breca stepped forwards with S?unn at his shoulder.

"Here," Orka said, holding out one of the seaxes to him.

"What have you done?" he asked her.

"There was frost-spider venom on the blade I used to cut his cheek," Orka said. "Do you remember the serpents on the Sea-Wolf . The mother serpent and her young?"

"Aye, Mama, I do," Breca said.

"You remember how she taught them to hunt, to kill?"

"Yes."

"I will teach you now." She led Breca behind Drekr, who was trembling, using all his strength and will to stay standing. As they came close to him his fingers twitched, a muscle in his arm. "At the back of the leg, above the knee, there is muscle. If you slice that a person will drop like a puppet with their strings cut. Here," she said, touching the back of Drekr's leg. "You do it."

Breca stepped forwards and slashed the seax across Drekr's hamstring. He grunted and collapsed.

"Good," Orka said. "If you had an axe, the quickest kill is a blow to the head. But with a sharp blade there are three places. You must strike here," she touched the pulse at her throat, "here", a finger to her heart, "or here", and she pressed on the artery in her groin. "Drekr is wearing mail, so the heart is protected. The artery in the groin is harder to find, so we shall choose the throat." She hefted the seax in her fist, squatted down before Drekr and touched the point to his neck. "And you," she said, and Breca raised the seax and touched it to Drekr's throat, alongside hers. Drekr was staring at them, his body shivering, lips moving, eyes glaring.

"For Thorkel," Orka breathed, holding Drekr's gaze, and pushed the blade into his neck, blood pulsing out, sluggish with venom.

"For Papa," Breca said, and pressed on the blade, watched it slide deep into Drekr's flesh.