Bloodaxe

by James Tallett

  So we had the feast, and then I got chewed out. Foreign warriors, risk of assassination, coup, uncouth manners at the dinner table, all the usual claptrap you hear when you bring home a horde of berserkers. You’d think Mum had to clean the floors around here or something. She had servants for that. And by the looks of things, a nice looking toy or two to keep the bed warm. Or was it three?

  Once the family argument was over and Mum had told me how proud she was to see me turning into a proper King, she then went right back into Queen Mother mode, and started badgering me about getting a wife. I had women. Rather too many of them, in fact. But not a wife. And she wanted grandkids, and an heir to the throne.

  Who was I going to marry though? None of the women caught my eye that way. They weren’t vicious and conniving enough. Oh, not like the Earl’s old wife, who by the way was doing just fine with Sven, but someone who can run a kingdom, a spy network, manage disputes, and generally let me get about the business of killing as many people as I wanted. Someone like dear old Mum, but a lot younger and a little less related to me. Cousin, maybe. Keeps it in the family tree, and stops all those nasty disputes about which branch should inherit.

  Unfortunately, anyone who was my cousin in this day and age had died at Trond, and my previous cousins, well, I’d rather lost touch with them over the ensuing centuries. Plus, they were peasants. Bit low down the social ladder for a king to marry. We don’t do the whole “love” thing.

  The only other nobles around were either ones I’d created myself, or the ones I was about to attack and depose. And I think that if I married someone then killed their brother, it might not make the marital bed all that welcoming. The only appropriate royalty that didn’t have a permanent grudge against me was the demons, and I didn’t really like the idea of waking up one night to find my wife trying to chew my head off. If I’m going to be killed, I’ll let a human do it.

  So I told Mum that she got to play matchmaker, and if she could find someone who could fit into my busy schedule of ruling, conquering, and feasting, then I’d give her a once over. Or maybe a twice over if she was really cute. Somehow, this didn’t please her all that much, and I ended up with the business end of her rapier poking me in the stomach. And a long lecture about the nature of kingship and responsibility to my kingdom’s people. It sounded like she was actually trying to turn me into one of those stuffy, preaching, always caring about the common man nobles.

  The common man needs to be kept happy enough that he can farm, fight, and won’t betray me. Beyond that, I don’t care if he sodomizes sheep for fun. If his idea of spiritual welfare is to do jumping jacks every time he sees a cloud shaped like a horse’s head, more power to him. I told the Queen Mother this in no uncertain terms, and she glared, then gave me a stiff whack on the rump with the flat of the blade and stormed out. Always good to know I have her support.

  The result of all that arguing and talking was no bride for me, not now, and not for the next couple years. I’m going to skip over the boring bits in the middle, until the age of about twenty one. Well, there’s one not-boring bit in there, and I’ll get to that in a second. But most of what happened over the next couple years was me wenching and ruling, making sure the kingdom was growing nice and stable and solidifying relationships with Finehair and Baron Brathwait, who was bright enough to know that if he renounced me, he’d become chum in the water. And Finehair turned out to be the same kind of boring, stolid, successful manager he was a councillor. If there was ever a crisis, he wouldn’t be imaginative, but it’d probably work all the same.

  You’ll notice I didn’t mention Sithgurd in the solidifying relationships part of those years. See, Sithgurd decided he was going to try his hand at being a solo king. One without a feudal overlord. One without me breathing down his neck. He did this by sending a few men to try and kill me off before I got wind of anything, but they were acting kind of funny as soon as they got here so I just got them drunk and then asked them why they’d come to Rudvic. Since their next step was to try and kill me, I got the point. Well, they got the points. I got information.

  Sithgurd in rebellion. That was a pity. I’d known he was a bright kind of guy, but I thought it was intelligent brightness, not too-big-for-his-britches brightness. Oh well, there’s always a cleverer than thou type in every kingdom. And since last time that little son of a bitch was my son, and he actually killed me, I have a healthy dislike of the type. I tend to kill them on sight.

  So I called up Sven. Partly I just wanted to chat, but I also had an idea or two that he might be useful for. He was really happy when he bounced into the room. Apparently he’d just had a giant row with his missus and stormed off in a huff, and kept telling me how she was a real corker and would keep going until she was ninety on bile alone. I think the poor fool was totally in love. There’s no sense in demons.

  We had a nice conversation over mead, and when I finally got around to asking for a favour, he said he’d have to look into the rules, but he thought it would work. Of course it would work, I planned it. I’m the brightest guy in Rudvic, right up until the day my own son skewers me on a spear.

  Two days later, in the middle of the evening feast, there’s a giant howling and knocking on the doors to the great hall, and everyone gets this worried look in their faces. I have the doors thrown open, and in walks a very angry looking Sithgurd, being poked along by Sven. Apparently he wasn’t too happy about being grabbed by a demon and carried through the air in a chariot of ice. Well, next time he wants to whine about something like that, he shouldn’t try and overthrow my rule.

  I had the space cleared in the middle of the feasting tables. Sithgurd caught on to what was happening pretty quickly, especially when I walked into the middle of the floor and unlimbered my greataxe. The betrayer used sword and shield, like any shifty little bastard would.

  We circled at first, prancing around like a pair of dancing children. Until he lunged, swift as a serpent. Nearly caught me too. He might be a bastard but he’s damn good with a sword. Damn good isn’t great though. And I’m great with an axe.

  A couple parries later, and we circled some more. I could hear bets being placed in the back, and shouted I’d put fifty gold coin on me winning. My own men jeered at me for that, so I increased it to five hundred. That they cheered. I’m a legend, and I’ve got to stay that way.

  The next engagement the little prick actually nicked my arm. Not badly, I was wearing chainmail, but enough to split a few links and draw blood. So the gamblers upped the odds, and in response I threw down a thousand gold on me.

  This kept going on for a little while, him nicking me, the odds getting longer and longer as I looked tired and didn’t hit Sithgurd, and me throwing down my entire treasury on this one fight. Hell, why not. If I die, it’s not like I’m around to enjoy it, and it’d leave Sithgurd without a royal penny to stand on.

  The betrayer lunged, a flick from the elbow, and it sure looked like he had me. Right up until the point I slipped past it, threw a tankard of mead into his face, kicked him in the groin, and beheaded him, all before he’d collapsed. Poor dumb bastard. He never learned he was being toyed with. Although I have to admit one or two of those scratches weren’t intentional. Bit too close for comfort there.

  I had Sven carry his body back, along with a message for his earldom. They sent earth to signify their allegiance to me. I also had some of his warriors come visit for a time so I could keep my eye on them. Nothing too untoward there, but I made sure that when the next war came, they were right in the front ranks. Better safe than sorry.

  And the next war was a doozy. The last remaining Duke, Baron and Earl all decided to have a nice big party on my front door. Before I could gather the troops. Well, before they thought I could gather the troops. I had to let them down a bit with that. You see, they assumed that I was going to campaign in the late spring, because it would take time to get all of the troops to Rudvic. And they thought that if they killed me, the kingdom of Rudvic would collapse. />
  Now, I’m not so sure about that. I had left specific instructions with all of the minor nobles that Finehair was my heir, until I produced one. Although that might occur rather sooner than anticipated. You see, before I get to the tale of this great battle, I should probably wander off and tell you how my marital career was going.

  Mum had been completely incapable of finding me a suitable wife. I knew this would be the case, because either I was at war with the suitable people, or I’d killed their husbands, and either situation isn’t going to make for much romance. Now, there was the baron who I had replaced on the throne, but unfortunately for me, his daughter was already married. Well, had been married. To the Earl Sithgurd had replaced. Yes, the one that had overthrown the baron. His wife’s father. That was a rather interesting family dynamic I had no interest in inserting myself into, and she was the only mildly eligible lady around.

  So I had to look further afield. A lot further. The Queen Mother even sent messengers over the seas to hunt for suitable brides, but apparently the tales of war had gotten there first, and that put people off. Not too many dads want to send their lovely daughters into a war zone.

  Now this is taking place right up until about nine months before this big battle. So, last summer. I’m out of options, Mum is despairing of me ever getting a wife and having kids, and who would pop up but none other than Sven. I’d talked to him about my problem once or twice, but, well, he’s a demon. It’s not like he was going to find me someone or anything.

  Turns out I was wrong. Sven did find me someone, and she’s really cute, once you get past the scales. Once again, demonic name, which I can’t pronounce, so we’ve agreed that her name is Guthfrith. Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue for late night poetry, but it’s something we both can say, which is good. Nice to be able to communicate.

  You might have noticed I said ‘scales’. Yes, my girlfriend is a snake demon. Nice legs though. The snake part is mostly her skin, teeth, and tongue. Quite a talented tongue, actually. There are some things where her being a snake is a decided advantage. And she’s got a cunning mind to back it all up. I handed her my spy network when she arrived, she started talking to Sven, and we were off, getting more information than I knew possible.

  I’m not a total idiot, so I was badgering Sven about why he’d been able to turn up with Guthfrith. I mean, c’mon, demons are always going to want something out of this. Sven said it was a favour to a friend. Of course, he didn’t say which friend. Probably not me, in other words. But I decided to give Guthfrith a trial run, although it was a bit odd trying to figure out where to take a demoness on a date.

  Turned out she liked me rowing her on a nearby lake. A bit too refined and romantic for me. I preferred taking my women instead of wooing them, but since this one had fangs, that wasn’t the best idea. Also oddly, she ate the same food we did, and didn’t ask for a large mouse or anything. I was half expecting to find her one day with a rat between her teeth. Of course, when I mentioned it to her she just said she did that in private. Lovely.

  The person who got the biggest shock out of all this, aside from me of course, was dear old Mum. She’d gone from not being able to find a single eligible noblewoman to having one delivered on her doorstep by a demon. And the noblewoman was a demon. I think if it had been anyone else’s mother, she’d have had a heart attack. Mum being my mother, she decided to drag me down into the practice arena and see how many times she could poke me with a rapier.

  Judging by the number of injuries I had afterwards, she’d been very unhappy. And she still was, since she lit into me in no uncertain terms every night after feast for the next week. Given her volume at these times, I’m sure that not only did Guthfrith and the castle know what Mum’s opinions were, but the whole of bloody Rudvic did too.

  Finally, I had to tell Mum to stuff it, and to go back to running the kingdom. Mum took care of all the agricultural and economic things, like taxes. I put Guthfrith in charge of espionage and foreign policy, although that last one was pretty easy, since Rudvic was at war with everyone.

  Now, nine months later, I’m beginning to think Guthfrith is worth settling down with, although I’m sure I’d get plenty of odd looks from the peasants. And there’s always the possibility of a nasty succession war, but as I’ll be dead one way or another, that’s not much of my concern.

  Talking of dead people, the Duke, Baron, and Earl with whom I was at war had decided to have a nice big conference over the winter and get their soldiers together and come attack me right at the spring thaw. The only problem was, Guthfrith had somehow heard of this. So I called in a few friends. Sithgurd’s replacement, Baron Brathwait, and Finehair. Along with the people of Rudvic and Trond. And I had all of these lovely people hiding in the woods near my castle.

  So, after the upstart nobles settled in and started the siege, I had all of my friends encircle them and charge, right as I did the same thing. Along with my demoness girlfriend, who is almost as good with a sword as I am with an axe. And doesn’t wear much clothing in battle, although to be fair, her skin is mostly armour anyway.

  It was very distracting, so after the first problem or two, I clubbed her upside the head with my axe and had a couple soldiers carry her to the rear. I’d be in for an awful argument later, but better than being killed now.

  My biggest problem out of the way, I charged back into the fray, where the men from Sithgurd’s earldom were doing a wonderful job of getting themselves killed on the front lines. Always great when you see a plan working out so nicely.

  Finehair and Baron Brathwait cleaned up the opposing Baron quite swiftly, and I took the people of Trond and Rudvic straight down the rebel Duke’s throat. In my particular case, it was also through his throat. With my axe. Which was all gory and crimson. Like the rest of me. A little of which was mine, but mostly other people who’d stood in my way.

  In one particularly brilliant case, I’d actually managed to behead someone in a single stroke and then kick their head into the face of my next opponent. Poor fool had such a moment of shock he never saw me kick him in the groin. I beheaded that one too. I wanted to see if I could repeat the trick, but nope, not this battle. Still, it was a hell of a sweet move. I had a tapestry made to commemorate it.

  Once the leading nobles died, most of their forces decided that they’d like to run away. The only problem with running away when you’re surrounded is that there’s no way out. So we slaughtered them. All of them. Except for those who collapsed from wounds. Those we saved. Remember, I honour the brave and slay the cowardly.

  After that, it was mopping up time. I send Finehair and Baron Brathwait to take care of whatever forces remained at the castles of the fallen nobility, and I went back to see how Guthfrith was doing.

  She was very lively. So lively, in fact, that she tried to jump across the room and bite me through my armour. Always nice to have a warm welcome.

  Once she calmed down, I got treated to a very long rant, but since most of it was in demonic, it was more a matter of trying to look like I was paying attention and nodding at the appropriate moments. I think I missed a few though, since she was still furious hours later.

  That being said, Guthfrith did drag me to bed, and we found out just how compatible demons and humans really are. Maybe she’s like Sven, except instead of falling in love when shouted at, she gets randy when she shouts. If so, this is going to make for a very interesting marriage.

  As you might imagine, things got a little bit dull after I’d conquered all the noble fiefs that had made up Rudvic. I tried my hand at a bit of overseas raiding, but there’s only so much bouncing up and down I could take, and two weeks of plundering was just not worth all the puking over the side. So I left it to others.

  Turned out Finehair was very good at it, so he became the naval commander of Rudvic. Made us a small mountain of gold and silver with his raiding. Annoyed those overseas kingdoms enough that they tried a counter-attack once or twice, but after seeing me thundering across a batt
lefield they’d go home. Mostly in coffins.

  Mum turned out to be a very good administrator and Queen Mother, and she had the rest of the nobles frightened and eating out of her hand until the end of her days. Which still haven’t arrived. And probably won’t long after I’m gone. At this rate, I’m going to have to change her title to Eternal Queen Mother.

  Although perhaps it could be Eternal Queen Grandmother. Yes, there are little half-human, half-demons running around the castle at Rudvic. Five of them, so far. Guthfrith turned out to be a wonderful wife and mother, although she’s a bit feisty sometimes. Hasn’t tried to bite my head off though. And she makes a damn fine spy chief. Been helping out Finehair with the raids.

  As for me, good old King Bloodaxe? Well, Rudvic is steaming along just fine under my watch. I’m making sure that this time, no children of mine lead a revolt against me. And despite the seasickness, I still raid once in a while. Got to get all covered in blood while in a berserker frenzy every now and then.

  I’m getting a little older, and turning towards statecraft rather than warrior skill more often. But I still have a trick up my sleeve, oh yes. Rebuilding Rudvic was the start. You soft little pretty boys on the mainland better shape up, because I’m coming for you. Me and a thousand boats full of my closest friends. Damn right I am.

  King Bloodaxe and his rocking party ain’t done yet.

  The End

  We hope you’ve enjoyed this Deepwood Publishing story. As part of our mission to give readers the best of up and coming fantasy and science fiction, the following pages contain a glimpse into Tarranau, the first full length novel from James Tallett and Deepwood Publishing.

  Tale of the Apprentice

  Tarranau sat upon the cliffs, looking into the clear blue sky, matched at the edge of the horizon by a darker sea. Ocean and heavens blurred into one grey-blue mass as the ocean mist softened the view and removed all hard lines until it became one seamless whole, air and water together. Below him, the sound of waves crashing into and over the rocks of the seashore provided background music to his relaxations and contemplations. It was the end of the day and one of his favourite moments: waving goodbye to the departing sun as it slipped below the horizon, the glowing rays reaching out through the low lying mist. Molten gold running across the water to greet him, a last warm caress before the darkness of night fell over the island.