19. Erik

1000 YEARS AGO

The sun was unrelenting today. The gods were against us. I’d tried to contact Andvari with the Shaman’s mirror, but he hadn’t responded. Did he want us dead? Was this our fucking fate? To cross an entire ocean only to be caught in daylight when the slayers reached us?

We didn’t have much time, each passing moment turning to dust before our eyes. I stood under the sun in the centre of the village, shaded by nothing but a wooden awning, thinking on what was to be done. The stone houses stretched up the hill before us and the people had gathered at its base, anxious as they gazed at our weakened forms. Every time we set foot in the sun, black veins encircled our eyes and our energy rapidly depleted.

The leader of the village, Takoda, stepped toward us: a slim man with a shaven head and red stripes painted across his bare chest. “We will fight with you to the end, dear gods.”

I glanced at the others. Fabian looked willing to fight, but Miles and Clarice seemed unsure. I was torn apart inside, uncertain of what to do. I didn’t want the villagers getting caught up in this. They’d be cut down by the slayers’ immense power. And after all they had done for us, it wouldn’t be right to lead them to their deaths.

“We could turn them?” Fabian suggested in a low tone, so only the four of us could hear.

“No,” I snarled. “We cannot do that to them.”

“But we need an army, Erik,” Fabian urged, and Miles nodded, warming to the idea.

I caught my sister’s eye, my last hope. She wore a dress of blue silk and her golden hair was braided with flowers. “No, Erik’s right. We should leave, get as far away as possible to protect them.”

Relief unfurled in my chest.

“Curse those slayers, I do not want to give up this place,” Fabian snarled.

“Me neither,” Miles agreed. “This is our home now.”

A pit of despair grew in me, surprising me at the attachment I had found to this village. Boredom trailed me everywhere in this world, but at least here there was the beauty of the forest and the winding trails along the peaceful river. There was no need for carnage, no deaths without cause. There was balance between us and the humans, their blood in exchange for our protection. It was as close to harmony as we had ever found.

So no, I didn’t want to leave, but what choice did we have? We had sworn to safeguard these people and guiding the slayers away from them was the only way we could do that.

“Your enemies are our enemies!” Takoda called, lifting the sharp spear in his hand. “We will protect you as you have protected us!”

A cry of assent went up from the villagers, and I spied children watching us from the doorways of their homes, seeming excited by the spectacle.

I sighed, my body riddled with concern. We could not do this to them.

I eyed the forest beyond the village, expecting the slayers to descend upon us at any moment. Their blades would guide them here. They were coming, it was just a matter of time. And I wanted a decision made before that happened.

“We could head into the forest to meet them and fight under the cover of the canopy.” I turned to my siblings. “We can fight on our own terms. And the villagers will not be involved.”

Fabian looked ready to disagree, but Clarice stepped in first. “Yes, we’ll take weapons and hide in the trees. Perhaps we could win with the element of surprise on our side.”

“How will we surprise them? They will sense our presence,” Miles hissed, running his hand into his hair. It was getting long, curling around the nape of his neck like a waterfall of gold.

“Draugr,” Andvari’s voice rolled through the air and power rippled across the land, setting my skin prickling.

The villagers looked around in alarm and my soul shuddered as he appeared among them. The god walked toward us in his brown robes, his grisly hair floating about him and a sense of utter power slipping from him into the atmosphere.

The villagers raised their weapons but I lifted a palm, warning them off.

“Leave him,” I commanded, and they slowly parted, letting him move through the crowd toward us, muttering their fear.

Andvari observed us beneath the awning, coming to a halt just before the four of us where the shade met the sun.

“You need my help,” he purred, seeming to revel in our predicament.

“Yes. What can you do?” I asked, wary of more tricks, more lies, more curses.

Andvari stooped low, picking up four black rocks from the dusty ground. He cast his hand over them and they smoothed out, rounding into shining spheres. A rune appeared upon them that resembled a trident, glittering silver in the light. “The rune of Algiz has altered these stones. They will stop their blades from detecting you. Carry them always. They will help you evade the slayers.” He stepped into the shadow of the awning, passing us one each.

I took the final glossy stone, running my thumb over it, sensing power emanating from the rune of protection that was etched into it.

“A thank you would be polite,” Andvari growled, and the others quickly bowed their heads in subservience, offering their thanks.

Andvari’s eyes slid to me when I remained quiet, unmoving. “Shall I pull it from your ungrateful tongue, Erik Larsen?”

I warred with the defiant streak in me but felt the pleading stares of my siblings around me.

“Thank you,” I bit out, dipping my head.

“A gift will suffice.” Andvari turned toward the villagers, lifting a finger and pointing at a child hugging her mother’s legs. “A gift in blood.”

Ice crept through the corners of my chest as the god beckoned the child closer and she was forced to move toward him. Her mother ran to catch her, but Andvari knocked her to the ground, making fear crash through my flesh.

The villagers were forced aside by the god’s almighty power, allowing the young child to reach Andvari. Screams pitched through the air, the horrified wails of the child’s mother puncturing my ears while the other villagers bayed for mercy.

Andvari approached the child, taking a glinting silver knife from within his robes.

“No,” I snarled, stepping forward to the very edge of the shadows.

“A fine sacrifice,” the god growled and the villagers cried out her name in desperation.

“Lisi! We love you, Lisi! Come back to us!”

My fangs prickled with rage and I steeled myself, storming out into the sun, its burning rays cutting a path through my body and weakening my muscles. I squinted against the blazing light, the sting of the sun’s beams like acid against my skin as I moved in front of the little girl, stopping Andvari from approaching.

“No blood will be spilled here,” I demanded. “These are good people. They will not be hurt for the sake of us heathens.”

“But I must have a gift,” Andvari chuckled, not seeming bothered by the stand I was making.

A man ran forward from the crowd, raising a bone blade to his throat. “I offer myself as sacrifice!”

“No!” I bellowed, but I was too late as the man slashed his own knife across his jugular and blood poured down his naked chest. He hit the ground and the child’s mother ran to him, falling to her knees and crying out as he gargled, choking to death.

I bared my fangs, lowering down to take hold of the child’s shoulders and pushing her back toward the crowd. Her mother reached for her, gathering the little girl into her arms, rocking back and forth as she wept.

“That will do, I suppose.” Andvari grinned then twisted sharply away from me, vanishing into thin air.

“Forgive us!” Clarice called to the people and the leader bowed his head, signalling that he did.

“We will leave to intercept the slayers,” Fabian called to them. “Bring us your weapons!”

The villagers hurried forward, laying hatchets, clubs, bows and spears at our feet, muttering prayers of luck and war. I had my own obsidian blade at my hip, but I picked up a hatchet, weighing it in my palm and mentally preparing for what was to come. I tucked Andvari’s rune stone into my pocket, wishing someone hadn’t had to die for it. But every gift of the god was always paid for in blood, one way or another.

“To the trees,” I ordered my family as they finished arming themselves and we took off through the village, a cheer going up as we headed toward the forest.

“We will protect you!” Miles called to them, and they cheered our names, praising us like saints instead of the sinners we were.

As I slipped into the darkness between the boughs, the sun slipped from my skin and my strength fast returned. I glanced back at the village, praying we would come back. That we would finish the slayers at last and be able to continue our lives here. I made a silent promise to myself that if we won, I would try to enjoy the world once more. I would spend time with the people, attend their feasts and celebrations. I would be more than just a predator, I would attempt to be a man again.

We moved further into the dark forest, the sounds of birds and small mammals chirruping around us. Soon, we arrived in a clearing not too far from the sea and spread out around it, working to conceal ourselves. If the slayers were coming, they would surely take the easiest route. And this was it.

I scaled a nearby tree, crawling onto a thick branch which hung above the clearing. Clarice slipped into the covering of the leaves on a large tree across from me. When she fell still, she was invisible, the foliage concealing her entirely.

Fabian and Miles were soon hidden too, and we fell deathly quiet, waiting. I remained as rigid as the branch I clung to, moulding myself to its shape, my gaze pinned on the ground below.

The first sign of movement was a group of monkeys swinging through the branches. I was so still that one perched on my back for several moments before heading on to join its companions.

I strained my ears, then tensed as something large shifted through the undergrowth below. A huge boar appeared, grunting as it trotted across the clearing.

“Oh hello, Magnar,” Clarice whispered on the breeze and a chuckle escaped my throat.

The minutes merged into an hour, and I started to wonder if we had made a wrong assumption. Perhaps the slayers wouldn’t come this way. Perhaps they had forged a path through the swamp to the south. Or they might have headed that way first before circling back. But this area was the direct route to the village from the sea. If they had sensed our presence before, they would certainly be heading in this direction.

Doubts pricked my gut as I wondered how many might be moving toward us. We’d had to run from them before, but I wasn’t prepared to flee again. I was no coward. And at least this time we would have an advantage. Death would descend on them before they knew what was happening.

I stilled as Magnar’s dark head appeared between the shrubs, cutting a silent path toward the clearing. Anger rose in my blood and a lust for his death consumed me.

I am tired of being hunted. You shouldn’t have followed us, slayer.

He moved silently into the clearing, hovering on the edge of it as he raised one of his golden blades as if trying to sense our presence. He frowned, sweeping the sword through the air before lowering it, evidently assuming he was safe. The stones worked, and the slayers would never detect us again.

I waited with a ripple of anticipation spreading through me, letting my instincts take over. I was a predator, born to kill. And though spilling more blood didn’t appeal to me, I knew we had to end the slayers or they would never stop hunting us. They were a threat to our new way of life. Our home. And I refused to allow anyone to take that from my family again.

Magnar strode further into the clearing and I rose silently onto my knees, taking the hatchet from my hip. As he stepped beneath the branch where I was hiding, I gritted my teeth and launched my attack.

Energy surged through me as I fell from the tree, raising the hatchet above my head and silently descending for the kill. Magnar looked up at the last second, his sword knocking my weapon aside and I collided with him, bringing us both to the forest floor. I raised my arm with a yell of fury, readying my weapon to kill him.

“How?” he gasped in horror.

I brought my arm down to cleave him apart, but he grabbed my wrist, turning his head at the last second so the hatchet barely grazed his ear and sliced deep into the earth.

His fist connected with my jaw and my head whipped backwards as I was thrown off of him into the dirt. Clarice dove from the trees as Magnar regained his feet, drawing his second sword with a feral growl.

Fabian sped at him from behind, throwing a kick against his back.

Magnar stumbled forward, slashing his swords through the air to keep Clarice away as she tried to grab him.

I bared my fangs, stalking around him as he swung his blades to keep us at bay.

“Devils! How have you hidden your presence from me?” he boomed.

Miles darted into view beside Fabian, aiming his bow at Magnar’s head. He loosed the arrow and Magnar whipped his sword sideways to knock it from the air. I dove on him, taking the advantage of his distraction as I grabbed hold of his head and yanked sideways, ready to break his neck.

Magnar bellowed, reaching behind his head and launching me over his shoulder with force.

I gained my feet, turning back to him with a snarl, but he came at me with rage scorching in his eyes.

“Magnar!” someone shouted beyond the trees and in moments, the slayers descended on us.

Fabian, Miles and Clarice darted into the undergrowth to intercept them, leaving me alone with Magnar Elioson.

He slashed his blades at me in two heavy strikes, but I avoided the blows, dancing between their deadly edges so he never landed a hit.

With a rush of agility, I got between them, ramming my fist into his ribs. He growled as something cracked, slashing his swords at me again. I leapt over his head, turning fast and throwing my weight into his back so he stumbled forward. He swept around just as quickly, keeping upright as he brought a golden blade towards my heart. I snatched his wrist, twisting hard and he gasped in pain as the bone broke, dropping the sword to the ground. I kicked it away, but the moment cost me too much as he stabbed his other sword into my side. I cried out in horror as the searing pain ricocheted through my body. He ripped it out and I hit the ground, clutching the gaping wound above my hip.

“How did you evade our swords?” he demanded, standing over me and holding his blade above my heart.

“The gods help you as they help us,” I hissed.

He considered that, lifting the sword higher, readying to finish me, and I raised my chin to face my end.

Clarice crashed into him so hard that the two of them slammed against a tree and broke the trunk in two.

I got to my feet, wincing as I moved, cursing myself for this failure.

Miles ran to my side, throwing my arm over his shoulder as he helped me move, the metal of the slayer blade causing me an agony untold. “There’s too many of them. We have to run.”

“No,” I growled, determined to end this today.

“Don’t be a fool, brother,” Miles begged, and I noticed a deep gash on his arm, dripping blood.

Clarice shrieked as Magnar sliced deeply into her leg and fear found me for my sister. But she sprang away from him, running to meet us, limping as she moved.

“Go!” Fabian roared, tearing through the trees with a slayer’s head swinging from his fist. He tossed it at Magnar’s feet, stalling him in his tracks, a sharp grief pooling in his eyes.

“Run!” Fabian yelled and he and Miles dragged me into their arms before speeding off into the trees.

Magnar’s voice followed us, his yell full of grief and rage. “Your deaths are mine! Run and hide but I will find you and cut out your monstrous hearts if it’s the last thing I ever do!”