Ragnarok Rising: Desolation: Book Five of the Ragnarok Rising Saga

by D. A. Roberts

  He stared at me with a confused look on his face for a long moment before answering me in a much quieter tone.

  “Strange,” he said, after a long pause. “That the one-eyed warrior would not recognize the Bringer of Fire. I am the spark that will make this world burn. I am the fire that will melt the ice forever. I am the doom of the Nine Worlds. I! AM! SURTR!”

  His voice had grown steadily stronger as he spoke until he was practically screaming the final words. All of the Eldjötnar took up the chant, repeating his name with almost religious intensity. I could hear swords beating against armor and shields. They continued their fanatical fervor until Surtr raised his hands into the air and swiftly brought them down to his sides. Instantly, the crowd went silent. The only sound that you could hear was the distant calling of numerous Shriekers that had heard the chanting and took up their own call.

  I knew that nothing I could do would top that so I decided to go a different route. I had little doubt that it was going to piss him off, but that was exactly the effect I was going for. Instead of introducing myself and trying to top his loud tumultuous response, I casually put away my XVR and grounded the tip of the spear. Then, slowly and mockingly, I began to clap. I also gave him my best completely unimpressed look. It must have worked because I could see the fury rolling off of him in waves.

  “You dare mock me!” he bellowed.

  “I'm sorry,” I replied, condescendingly. “Was I supposed to be cowering in terror? Should we try it again?”

  Surtr reached for the immense blade that he had strapped across his back. Just as his fingers were closing on the hilt, Fornjot the Destroyer stepped forward.

  “My Lord, if I may,” he said, his deep voice breaking the tension.

  “This had better be good, Fornjot,” snarled Surtr.

  “If you strike him down here, the battle will undoubtedly be over,” he said, glancing at me. “But if you put them in the pit and let them die there, all eyes will see it happen and the word will spread like wildfire.”

  “That is good,” said Surtr, a dark smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Take them to the pit.”

  I had the distinct feeling that I knew exactly what the “pit” was. While I wasn’t exactly looking forward to fighting in an arena against the Gods only knew how many opponents, the alternative was to stand our ground and die here. I glanced around at the others and saw reflected in their eyes that they were willing to back whatever play I made. I had to decide quickly, but honestly, the decision was already made for me. I would take the pit and give us a fighting chance to survive.

  “What are the stakes?” I asked, glaring at Surtr.

  “What?” he asked, turning back to me with a perplexed look on his face.

  “Your terms,” I said. “We won’t just waltz into the pit for your amusement. What happens if we win?”

  “You won’t,” he replied with a sneer on his ruddy face.

  “I’ve heard that before,” I replied. “Put your best warriors against my best. When we win, I get to face you. One on one. No interference.”

  The gigantic warrior began to chuckle, which grew into a belly laugh that doubled him over. He apparently found the thought of facing me amusing. I just hoped that he continued to underestimate me. It had been the downfall of more than one enemy. I also hoped that I could back up my claim. The Eldjötnar would be the most dangerous adversaries that any of us had ever faced.

  When Surtr had finished laughing, he stood back up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Shaking his head, he turned back to face me. Although there was still an amused look on his face, the smile faded from his lips. I was happy that he found all of this amusing, because the more he laughed, the madder I got.

  “Very well, Grant,” he said, nodding. “I will choose three of my best warriors. They will go against you, the one with the hammer and the Hrimthurssar traitor.”

  Bergelmir bristled at being called a traitor and Snake just smiled broadly. He’d been looking forward to testing himself against one of the Eldjötnar since this had all began. Bridgett seemed offended that she hadn’t been selected to fight, but Spec-4 just shook her head and gave me a look that said she thought I was insane. I noticed that Surtr looked at Spec-4 with an odd expression on his face, but said nothing.

  “No,” I replied, anger rising in my tone.

  “What?!” he bellowed, clearly shocked that I didn't simply obey his every word.

  “You think this shit is funny?” I asked, my anger growing by the second. “Alright, motherfucker. You and me in the pit. No one else.”

  “Why would I do that?” he asked, mockingly.

  “Well, I suppose you could show everyone here that you're afraid to face me,” I said, shrugging. “I guess it's your call. Fight me or hide behind your warriors like a bitch.”

  “You dare…,” he roared, starting to reach for me.

  He stopped when the big XVR reappeared in my hand, pointed directly at his eye.

  “What's it gonna be, asshole?” I asked, the gun never wavering.

  “Very well, Grant,” he said, his voice menacing and low. “We will face each other in the arena. I will tear your heart out and show it to you while it still beats.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, fuck-head,” I said, shrugging. “We'll find out in the ring.”

  “Indeed we shall.”

  “Let’s get this over with,” I said. “Bring it on.”

  Surtr turned and strode away while the other Eldjötnar began to escort us towards a large cleared area surrounded by train cars. Undoubtedly, that was the pit that they had spoken of. We walked single file towards the arena, but the big warrior Fornjot fell into step beside me. He began speaking to me, but kept his voice so low that I had to strain to hear his words. Whatever he was going to tell me, it was clear that he didn’t want the others to overhear.

  “I hope that you are as good as the tales that I have heard,” he said, glancing down at me. “Both your world and my own may depend on it.”

  I turned to look at him, a perplexed expression on my face. I couldn’t understand if he was merely making a statement or if he might genuinely be hoping that I defeated Surtr.

  “What did you say?” I asked, keeping my voice down.

  “Do not fail, Grant,” he said softly. “If you do, all is lost. Surtr will be undefeatable.”

  When we reached the pit, I could see that they were already beginning to gather there. The Eldjötnar were taking up positions on top of the rail cars and on crudely built bleachers that looked to be constructed out of railroad ties and rails. Surtr was taking his place on a raised dais that overlooked the entire arena. The fighting floor was massive. It was close to fifty yards long and thirty yards wide. The floor had been covered with sand, probably to absorb blood and other fluids that would be spilled there. I could see dozens of discolored spots, indicating that the arena had seen quite a bit of use.

  We were guided down a set of stairs and into a waiting area. There waiting for us was a female warrior with her long black hair pulled back into a thick pony tail. She didn’t look even remotely friendly and showed no sign of any sense of humor. I doubted that she would appreciate my smart-assed comments in any way, at all. Not that it would stop me.

  “Which one of you is Grant?” she asked without preamble.

  “I am,” I replied, smiling. “Am I supposed to fight you?”

  She looked at me like I was an insect and ignored my comment.

  “Whoa, tough crowd,” I said, chuckling.

  “I do not think she finds you amusing,” said Bergelmir.

  “I don’t think she finds anything amusing,” I replied, shrugging.

  In lieu of a comment, she merely glared darkly at us and walked away. She headed out through a gate and shut it behind her, leaving all of us alone. Even our escorts had gone back up the stairs to get a good seat to watch the fight.

  “Listen up,” I said, after I was sure that we were alone. “I’ve got a plan.”r />
  “Here we go, again,” muttered Spec-4.

  “Look,” I began, “there’s a good chance that I can’t beat this big bastard. Just in case I don’t, I want you all to be ready to get out of here.”

  “I do not think that they will just let us walk away,” replied Bergelmir. “What is it that you have in mind?”

  “I want you to slip away from the arena while all eyes are on me and Surtr,” I said, nodding grimly at them. “Get to Griff and the other survivors. If you can get them out and armed, then you have a shot at getting out of here.”

  “I doubt that we can bust our way outta here with the few guns we have and a bunch of freed slaves,” said Snake, frowning. “We’re going to need a lot more than that.”

  “What do we do with them once we have them free?” asked Spec-4.

  “Get them moving,” I said. “Griff can lead them once they’re free. Tell him where to find the camp and get them out of here. If I fall facing Surtr, then it’s up to you to shut this machine down and stop them.”

  “What happens if you win?” asked Bridgett.

  “Then I still want you to shut down that machine and free the others,” I replied. “I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

  “There is one problem with that plan,” interjected Bergelmir.

  “What's that?” I asked, turning towards him.

  “They must have been building this for months,” he explained. “In order to power it, they would have to tap a massive power source. I do not see any large power sources around here.”

  “So what did they use?” asked Spec-4.

  “It is highly likely that they have used a magma tap,” said Bergelmir. “By drilling deep into the molten core, they use the heat and pressure to create the massive amount of energy that they would need to power the device.”

  “A magma tap?” asked Snake. “Is that anything like a geothermal tap?”

  “Similar,” said Bergelmir. “Only much bigger.”

  “So, if we blow it up,” I said, frowning, “what's going to happen?”

  “Most likely, it will be a volcanic event on an unprecedented scale,” explained Bergelmir. “This entire area would become unstable and the eruption would cover much of the city.”

  “So, if we don't blow it up,” said Spec-4, “then how do we shut it down?”

  “I do not know,” replied Bergelmir. “I only know what the device is. I have never actually seen one used.”

  “So, basically,” I said, shrugging, “we play it by ear. Shut it down if you can, blow it if you have to. We can't let them open the Bifrost.”

  “What if we have to blow it?” asked Spec-4.

  “Then we'd better not stick around to watch the fireworks,” I replied. “If destroying it is our only option, we need to find a fast way out of the area.”

  “We could steal some of their horses,” said Bergelmir. “They are not like the Vargr. You should be able to ride them without problems.”

  “Well, I'd prefer a Humvee,” I said, grinning, “but I won't turn anything down, at this point.”

  Behind us, the gate began to rumble open again. The female warrior was returning and her demeanor hadn't changed any. In fact, she somehow looked less friendly than the last time we had seen her.

  “You will remain here,” she said, gesturing at me. “The others are to go to the observation area. Surtr wishes for them to bear witness to your death.”

  “Is that so,” I replied, crossing my arms across my chest. “I think I have other plans, if you don't mind. I'm only too happy to make Surtr eat those words.”

  That, she found funny. She began to chuckle and smile.

  “Why does everyone find the thought of me beating Surtr amusing?” I asked, glancing around.

  “Because no one has ever done it before,” said Bergelmir. “Be cautious and understand that this is the most deadly foe you have ever faced. Even falling to his blade will be the tales of legend.”

  “And if I win?”

  “Then that would indeed be worthy of song,” said Bergelmir, smiling.

  He extended his hand and I grasped his forearm in a warrior's embrace.

  “Die well, my brother,” he said solemnly.

  “Fuck that,” interjected Snake. “You go out there and kick that motherfucker's ass.”

  Snake didn't bother with a handshake. He wrapped his arms around me and nearly crushed my ribs. After he sat me back on the ground, he turned and headed for the stairs. Spec-4 only nodded at me with a sad look on her face. She didn't need to say anything. Her eyes said it all. Bridgett just smiled and waved.

  “You can do this, Wylie,” she said, heading up the stairs.

  I watched them all until they were out of sight, then turned back to the big warrior. I fully expected her to be surly and brooding, but I was shocked to see her looking at me with a mixture of respect and surprise.

  “Something wrong?” I asked her.

  “Not at all,” she replied. “It speaks well of a warrior to have the respect of his brothers.”

  “They have mine, as well. We've all bled beside each other, on many occasions.”

  “Do you really think that you can defeat Surtr?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

  “We're about to find out,” I said, shrugging.

  “Indeed,” she said.

  Gesturing towards the gate, she indicated that it was time for me to go. Reluctantly, I began to walk towards it. I felt like a condemned man on the way to the gallows. Despite my bravado, I wasn't sure I could beat Surtr. I smiled darkly as the gate opened, revealing the interior of the arena. With a resigned sigh, I began slowly walking into the pit.

  “Fight well, Grant,” said the woman.

  For the life of me, I couldn't understand why it seemed that some of the Eldjötnar were almost hoping that I could defeat Surtr. Then again, if he was their leader because no one dared to challenge him, then I would imagine that there would be any number of people who would love to see him fall. I guess it made as much sense as anything else that I could think of.

  Above me, the beating of enormous drums began as soon as I entered the arena. Although I couldn't see the drummers, I could literally feel the bass in the air as the boom echoed out its slow cadence. Part of me felt like it was a funeral march being prepared for me. That there was no hope of me coming out of this alive. I could almost feel myself giving into the fear when a thought occurred to me and I began to smile.

  Suddenly I realized, that no matter the outcome of this fight, I had already won. I mean, here I was, just a Corrections Officer from the Midwest, about to fight one of the most powerful warriors who ever lived. It was humbling and encouraging at the same time. I mean, if this didn't get the Gods' attention, then nothing I ever did was going to. The thought also occurred to me that I didn't have to defeat Surtr. I just had to buy the others enough time to free the slaves and sabotage the Bifrost.

  With that realization, the pressure was gone. I didn't have to win. I just had to make that big son-of-a-bitch earn it. If I fell, I was going to make damned certain that bastard remembered my name for many years to come. If I was really lucky, I might just take him down with me. I could live with that, too. That was just as good as winning and better than I could hope to achieve. At least it gave me a goal.

  When the drums were reaching a crescendo, a gate opened on the far side of the arena. Surtr walked through it like he was at the head of a conquering army. Striding in like he had already won really pissed me off. If I accomplished nothing else, I hoped that it was to knock the smug look off of that asshole's face.

  His armor was gleaming black plate with red chain-mail beneath the plates. He carried an enormous two-handed sword in his right hand like it didn't weigh an ounce. The blade had to be close to eight feet long. To say that he had the advantage of reach on me was the understatement of the century. Across his back was the handle of what appeared to be a massive double bladed battle-axe. The head looked to be wider than my chest.

/>   His open-faced helm was built very similar to a samurai helmet, with overlapping plates that ran down the back of his neck. In fact, his face seemed to be the only spot on him that wasn't covered with heavy armor. Scoring a hit and penetrating those plates was going to be a tremendous challenge. My mind was already running through different scenarios, desperately searching for anything that might help me get through that armor. Unfortunately, nothing was coming to mind.

  Bringing that massive sword up with both hands, he gave me a mocking salute and began striding towards me. I didn't return the salute. I didn't see the point. Why waste the gesture? I could hear the leather of his gauntlets creaking as he tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword and brought it around into an attack position. Although he wasn't advancing as fast as I expected, I could see that he intended to get this over as quickly as possible. He wanted to send a message to everyone who was witnessing this battle. A loud and clear message that Surtr was unstoppable.

  I grounded the tip of my spear and left it standing within easy reach. Then, with a smooth motion, I drew both of my swords. Amusement twinkled in his eyes as I brought my swords up into a defensive guard position. Shifting my weight, I prepared to dodge his first attack. I knew that swinging a sword that big was going to take him off balance. If I could get inside his reach while he was recovering from his swing, I might just be able to do some damage before he cut me in half.

  Moves and counter-moves began to fly through my head at almost light-speed. I tried to predict his first attack, based on his stance and the way he was holding the sword. Inside, I could feel my heart begin to race and beat almost in synch with the thunderous cacophony of the massive drums. From deep down inside, the fire began to rise. The bloodlust burned its way through to the surface and the battle-rage emerged. Suddenly, all fear, doubt and hesitation were gone. It was no longer the time for reflection. It was the time for battle. It was time for victory or death.

  I think even Surtr was astonished when I didn't wait for his attack. Instead, I bellowed forth a massive battle-cry and charged right for him. I could see his shock register in his eyes. He just couldn't seem to fathom that someone might not be afraid of him. He swung the gigantic blade at my midsection, intending to cut me in half before I could land a single blow. The problem was, I had already seen that coming.