CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE VARG

CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE

VARG

V arg limped away from Brák's corpse, still pinned against the tree, his body slumped upon the nail of his sword.

It is done, Fr?ya. You are avenged. He did not feel the joy he had expected, no rush of euphoria, just a marrow-deep exhaustion, even the wolf in his blood quiet. R?kia and Svik walked with him, Edel and her hound, ?sa and Taras limping alongside them, Iva holding his hand.

A horn blast rang out across the battlefield and they all stopped.

But this battle is not done yet.

A few shared words, gripping hands with Iva and Taras, and then the Seier-witch and bull-man were walking away, towards the forest.

The remainder of the Bloodsworn looked at each other, no words, just held gazes, touched hands, then they were moving across the field, following the flow of warriors and vaesen that were gravitating towards Lik-Rifa and Ulfrir. The roaring maelstrom of the gods fighting, behind it the din of battle, steel clashing, battle cries and screams, and abruptly the snow was parting and it was raging before them. Seier-runes crackled, frost-spiders seethed and scuttled, Sulich led his riders, knots of shield walls clashed, trolls roared, tennúr whirred above them, dropping and tearing flesh from faces, and in front of Varg a wagon exploded into splinters, Rotta smashing into it as he rolled, squealing and thrashing, the jaws of the last stone wolf latched onto his shoulder. Rotta was lashing at the wolf with half a tail, and Skuld was swooping down, slashing at Rotta with a bright-gleaming sword.

Two trolls lumbered out of the sheeting snow, one much larger than the other, huge, yellowed tusks protruding from his lower jaw, and both hefted iron-studded clubs and smashed them down onto the stone wolf.

?sa broke into a run, her shield slung across her back, the others following, Varg and Taras both limping from the wounds Brák had given them. ?sa hurled her spear as she ran, drew her hand-axe and seax without breaking stride, Varg watching her spear punch into the shoulder of the smaller troll, saw it bellow and twist around, snatching at the spear, and then ?sa was upon it, leaping, hacking with her hand-axe, stabbing with her seax, using each blade to climb the troll's thick hide until she was standing on its shoulders. She chopped her hand-axe into the meat of its neck, and stabbed her seax deep into its ear, up to the hilt. The troll roared, spittle spraying as it spasmed and jerked, staggered a few steps and it dropped, ?sa jumping free, rolling and coming back to her feet. She looked at Varg and the others, lifted her hands and grinned, and then the other troll's club smashed down upon her. She disappeared like a squashed tick, an explosion of blood misting in the air.

Svik shouted, Edel roared as her hound charged at the vaesen, R?kia reaching the troll first, sword and hand-axe in her fists. She chopped and slashed at its calf as she ran past it, the troll roaring and swinging his club, then Edel was there, plunging her spear into the troll's thigh, leaving it buried there, ducked the club and drew her sword, slashed at the troll's ankle, while her hound harried at its legs and danced away. Svik and Varg reached the troll, Varg drawing his cleaver and hand-axe, and they spread about the creature, darting in and stabbing, slashing, darting back out.

"Heein will squash you all to gruel," the troll roared as it spun and stamped at them and swung its club.

Varg chopped at the troll's foot with his cleaver, severed a toe, Heein roaring, twisting, and swiping with a huge fist, Varg leaping out of the way, Heein smashing a table to kindling. Varg regained his feet, glimpsed movement from the corner of his eye and saw a handful of frost-spiders scuttling towards him. One reared and leaped at him and he crunched his cleaver into its clustered eyes, the spider dropping, Varg ripping the cleaver free, blue ichor spurting into his face. A pain in his arm and he twisted, saw a frost-spider had snared his mail with its thick-barbed foreleg, was dragging him towards its flexing fangs, glistening with venom. A small creature leaped onto the spider's back, a faunir, its face twisted in a feral snarl, raking its claws into the spider, punching and stabbing hard-nailed fingers into its back. Dark fluid spurted and Varg wrenched himself free. Stumbled back to see a horde of faunir sweeping into the battle, Ulfrir's new-found allies.

What did Ulfrir promise them?

Whatever it was, the faunir were turning the tide of battle. They only attacked Lik-Rifa's vaesen, the frost-spiders, skraeling and trolls, leaving the Tainted, the drengrs and mercenaries and dragon-cultists alone.

A roar behind Varg and he turned, saw Edel slice her sword across the back of the troll's knee, Heein's mouth wide and bellowing with pain.

R?kia ripped ?sa's spear from the troll ?sa had slain, hefting it and she cast it, the spear punching up into Heein's open mouth. The huge troll staggered back, Varg, Svik, R?kia and Edel all darting in. Edel's hound leaped forwards again, savaging Heein's ankle, and the troll toppled to the ground, an explosion of snow, Varg and the others chopping and slicing, blood flowing from a dozen wounds. The troll groaned, whimpered, and died.

A squealing snarl growing abruptly louder and Rotta crashed among them, slammed into the body of the dead troll as the stone wolf flew from his back. Rotta came to his feet, turning to face Varg and the others, bared his yellow incisors at them, took a step towards them, Varg seeing the rat's claws had talons long and curved like Sulich's sabre.

He and the others spread in a half-circle before Rotta.

There was a blast of air from above and two black shapes were dropping from the sky, black wings beating, Grok and Kló's talons outstretched, and in a blur of wings and turbulence they seized Rotta.

"Rotta kill Father-Snaka," the ravens squawked as they lifted him from the ground, their talons cutting into him. Rotta squealed, twisting and writhing in their grip, snapping with his long yellow teeth, but they held onto him and climbed higher, disappearing into the snow.

Varg and the others just stood there, staring up at the sky.

Then a shape came hurtling out of the sky, Rotta falling, spinning, shrieking. He crashed into a cluster of wagons, wood splintering, exploding, and Varg and the others leaped away, threw themselves to the ground, timber spraying above them like hurled spears. Varg climbed to his feet, saw Rotta lying amidst the ruin, still, unmoving, a cloud of scattered snow settling upon him.