by Travis Bughi
The group with unarmed individuals was clustered around a single woman, a good decade older than Takeo with short, blonde hair, brown eyes, and a striking resemblance to an old acquaintance of Takeo’s past.
Logic dictated the next course of action.
“Gavin, my left,” Takeo whispered. “Krunk, my right. Nicholas, stay behind me.”
They crept forward, though there was nothing to hide behind in the open street. A few in the group led by the woman noticed the newcomers and either blinked at the sight of Takeo or gasped at the sight of Krunk. This caused a few of the other group to glance over their shoulders and notice the three strangers sneaking up on them. They went to shout, but Takeo dashed forward with the speed of a minotaur, swinging his katana. The first one’s shout was cut short by the blade slicing through his neck, while the next turned just in time to see the blade that ended his life. When those two hit the ground, all hell broke loose.
The woman leading the defenders roared and charged, and her followers mimicked her actions a fraction of a second later.
Krunk’s deep voice was almost drowned out by the combined shouting, but his roar made Takeo’s bones chatter all the same. Krunk swung his sword into the thick crowd of invaders and decimated their forces. Huge, thick cords of muscle tensed and released, ripping the heavy blade through four men at once, tearing their armor to shreds and pouring out a waterfall of blood. Those behind them shouted, but were too slow to turn before the huge arc of Krunk’s swing cleaved their bodies apart, like wheat before a farmer’s scythe.
Not to be outdone, Gavin and Takeo killed two more vikings before the back row turned to meet them. The invaders, surrounded and assaulted on both ends, were already down half their group. The fight was over before it began. The charging defenders made short work of the invaders, and within moments this section of the village was littered with the dead. Not a single enemy was spared.
The woman wasted no time. The moment the last invader died, she shouted at Takeo, “Who in Valhalla are you?”
“My name is Takeo Karaoshi.”
The woman balked, a clear line of recognition passing over her features. She looked to her left and right at her allies, double-checking she’d heard correctly.
“The Takeo?” she asked. “The one who was with my uncle when he died?”
“If your uncle is Kollskegg Ludinson the Sturdy, then yes,” Takeo said with a nod.
“Valkyries take me, this is insane,” the woman stuttered. “Ah! There’s no time! Come on. We must save the rest of my village.”
Takeo nodded again. “I’m right behind you.”
The woman turned to her companions and began barking orders.
“Bolli! Take the injured and head for the hold. Kormakr, you’re with me. Asvard! Take your siblings and fetch the wargs. Round up any stragglers who try to flee the city. If you see any slaves running for it, kill them. Too many have already escaped into the hills.”
“Nicholas, go with Bolli,” Takeo said.
“I’m not that injured,” Nicholas replied.
Takeo turned back to give the other a hard stare. Nicholas met the gaze for only a second before breaking off to follow the injured.
“May I have your name, my lady?” Gavin asked.
“Save the introductions for later, pretty boy,” the woman replied. “My village is burning.”
* * *
“How many are there?” Takeo asked as he, Gavin, and Krunk followed the woman and ten of her companions down the war-torn streets.
“Three groups,” she shouted back, gasping for air as she sprinted. “One for each ship. I think they’re this way.”
They held their breath and dashed through a cloud of black smoke rolling down the road, and the heat baked Takeo like an oven for the fraction of a second it took him to clear it. On the other side, the woman came to a stop and listened. The others halted, too, and tried to take quiet breaths through open mouths.
Nearby, muffled by the number of homes in the way, they heard the clash of steel followed by screams and shouts.
“This way!” the woman yelled, and took off at a mad dash.
Takeo leapt forward and doubled his efforts until he was running side by side with the woman. Over his shoulder, he shouted to Gavin and Krunk, “Pick an ally and stay close to them. We won’t know friend from foe.”
Gavin and Krunk wordlessly obeyed, selecting a viking to follow and running side by side with them.
“Watch over them,” the woman added. “Make sure none of our own strikes our new friends down.”
She glanced at Takeo, and he gave her a nod of thanks, and not a moment too soon. The next corner they turned brought them face to face with the battle their ears had sought. In the narrow streets, chaos reigned.
A mass of humans clogged the road, intertwined in a fury of swinging weapons, screams, and flying blood, among buildings that were already starting to leak smoke through their thatched roofs. One woman butchered a man with an axe while two men held another face down in the red-stained mud. Just beyond them, another woman, blood streaming down her face, fled with a child in her arms. And those were only the few Takeo caught at first glance. Another twenty or thirty more were engaged in equal bouts of brutality, and Takeo heard Gavin gasp at the sight while the others roared in frenzy.
“Charge!” the woman screamed and bolted towards the fighting.
Takeo stuck with her, losing track of all others around him as he barreled headlong into the battle. He could almost feel the chill of death welcoming him home.
The woman selected the two men holding the other down in the mud first, ramming one into the ground with her shoulder and swinging her blade at the other, ripping open his throat. Takeo, a pace behind her, vaulted into the air to slam his katana down into the man who’d been struck to the ground by the woman, piercing his blade through the spine and twisting to bring about a quick death. The man in the mud flung his head and gasped for air, spitting the blood and dirt from his mouth.
“Get up!” the woman screamed and hoisted the man up. “Get up. Go!”
She wrenched a hammer out of one of the dead men’s hands and shoved it into the sputtering man’s arms.
“Fight. Go!” she yelled and pushed him into the battle.
Takeo turned at the sound of war cries to see two vikings, bathed in armor, sweat, and blood, charging him down. Behind them lay the bloodied corpse of the woman and child he’d seen earlier.
Takeo leaned back as if to run, then pounced forward to meet their charge just before they reached him. He ducked under their swings while his katana tore open one of them from thigh to neck, showering the air with blood, dropping the man to the ground with a solid thud.
The other viking skidded and turned around just quick enough to parry Takeo’s first thrust and die by the second, the katana piercing his lungs. Takeo drew up as close as a lover. He rammed the katana in to the hilt, then twisted and yanked out the blade, letting the invader collapse to the ground. Less than a pace away, Kollskegg’s niece glanced at Takeo with a brief look of awe and respect before bolting back into the fray.
Takeo paused as he caught the sight of a purple monster cleaving into the enemy with his massive blade. Krunk was roaring like the beast he looked, spit flying from his lips. Both villagers and invaders had somehow realized by now whose side he was on, and the defenders had pulled away while the enemy had surrounded him four strong. Krunk was sweeping his blade back and forth as fast as he could, as if he were trying to keep them at bay rather than take any of them out. They were beginning to circle him now, and his swings grew wider, opening up his defenses.
Takeo bent his knees to charge, but stopped when Gavin bolted in from nowhere, ramming into the back of one of the invaders with his shield and propelling that viking straight into the ogre’s greatsword. The viking yelped one futile second before a blade as heavy as himself sent his head flying into one of the burning buildings. The body thudded to the ground, and Krunk swung the blade back i
n the other direction without a pause.
Meanwhile, Gavin had moved on, swinging his longsword at the next viking to distract him and then ramming his shield, edge first, into the man’s face, his nose shattering in a plume of blood. The viking gargled in pain, then gasped as Gavin’s sword pierced his heart.
Another viking made the fatal mistake of turning to watch it happen. Krunk’s blade took him in the side of the head, the blow so devastating the man spun three times before falling dead. The last one turned to run, but found a throng of villagers blocking his way.
He died screaming.
Chapter 16
The invaders had attacked in three groups, one from each of three ships. One had attached a grappling hook to a section of the wall, one had defended the hook from being cut, and the other had used their ship to tear the wall down.
It had been a clever tactic, really, one to be admired for its ingenuity. However, the invaders had stopped cooperating from there on out, and when they entered the town, it was as three separate forces. An ill-advised strategy, because Takeo’s and the villager’s combined forces were more than enough to overpower each group on its own. By the time they had found the third group, the invaders were already fleeing back to their ship with what loot they could carry. The woman leading the defenders chose to let them go, saying she would need the men should another attack come.
Things in The North were truly that bad.
“My name is Valdis Lidunson,” said the woman, introducing herself as they watched the last of the invaders flee down the wide river. “I am my father’s eldest daughter.”
Takeo introduced Gavin, Krunk, and Nicholas, even though Nicholas wasn’t there. Valdis acknowledged them only briefly before barking orders to her people.
Bucket lines were made to put out the fires. Scouts were sent out to find people who were either hiding in their homes or had fled to the hills. Teams were made to begin clearing the streets: removing the dead, tending the wounded, and stripping the invaders. There was also grieving to do, and Valdis was no exception. Those clearing away the rubble found one of her sisters. She’d bled out from a gut wound, her hand clenched bone-white around a warhammer.
“Dear Ulferior,” Valdis cooed over her sister, stroking her cold cheek. “I’ll see you in Valhalla.”
Takeo and the others decided that their presence was no longer needed and left in search of Nicholas. They found him in the shadow of a large hall surrounded by an ever increasing throng of injured men, women, and children.
“We won the day?” Nicholas asked.
“As a dwarf would say,” Takeo began, “aye.”
“I’m glad you’re here, then,” Nicholas continued, lowering his voice. “I’ve been getting some odd looks, what with being a stranger and all. That one over there, Bolli, explained I was a friend, but most seemed unconvinced. I’ve been keeping my back to the wall, just to be sure. I think the sooner we’re introduced to Lidun, the better.”
“We might have to wait awhile for that,” Gavin whispered. “One of Lidun’s daughters was killed. That woman we fought with was her sister.”
“Damn,” Nicholas sighed. “Losing a sibling is never easy, even when you’re a viking. Even when you’re expecting it.”
They were all correct. Neither Lidun, Valdis, nor any of Lidun’s other relatives returned until late in the afternoon. A somber mood had fallen over the village, as was expected of a place just assaulted, and with it came distrust and hostility towards the four foreigners. It made for a long day, what with the strange and interested glances darting their way. Despite this, Krunk wanted to help, but Takeo told him it’d be better to just stay out of the way.
The animosity was limited to those who had not seen Takeo, Gavin, and Krunk in combat, though.
Bolli, an older man with a large bald spot and dried, wrinkled skin, was the first to approach them. His smile was genuine as he shook each of their hands firmly.
“I don’t know what brought you to our doorstep this morning, but thank the valkyries. For a moment, I thought you were more of them, but when I saw this big one here cleave four of them in two, I knew for sure you were einherjar, sent straight from the gates of Valhalla to save us. I have no doubts you’re who you say you are. Takeo Karaoshi, it’s a real pleasure to finally meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Takeo said, conscious of the lie, but bowing all the same.
A few others, those who’d seen them fighting, came forth to lay down praise for the impeccable and unbelievable timing. Takeo readily agreed, feeling a tug of fate that their nearly year-long travel just so happened to land them at this place, on this day. With each person who came forward to thank them, the hostile stares and whispers lessened, and when the time came to eat, they were served water and potatoes along with the rest.
But Takeo was distracted by the sight of four creatures. Mounted by vikings, they walked through the village, hauling carts that were being loaded with dead, wounded, or debris. The creatures had to be wargs, because they could be nothing else.
The beasts had four legs each and were just large enough for one or two vikings to sit on their backs. They had thick fur all along their bodies, which ranged in both color and pattern from solid brown to patches of white, black, and yellow. Despite their size, they appeared slim and pointed, as if poised to dart forward through a headwind. Their heads, mounted on straight necks, ended in long snouts where pink tongues rolled out of panting mouths. Their eyes were so red that they nearly glowed, and their ears were pointed triangles with tufts of fur sticking out.
Altogether, Takeo had seen more terrifying creatures than these. Most importantly, though, it wasn’t until the fourth warg walked by that Takeo thought of sharing this moment with Emily.
Huh, he smiled and looked to the ground. Perhaps I’ll be okay after all.
When Valdis finally returned, she was accompanied by an old man who could have been Takeo’s grandfather. His head was either shaved or totally bald, but he made up for that with a glorious grey beard that stretched down to his waist. Despite being out in what Takeo considered to be decent weather, the man wore a heavy, fur-lined coat, which seemed to bear down on his tall figure. One look at his hard gaze told Takeo this was the man they sought.
Takeo stood and bowed low and deep. Gavin awkwardly mimicked the same, and then Krunk followed even less gracefully. Nicholas alone stood tall and proud, raising his chin.
Whether or not any of this made a difference, Takeo could not immediately tell. He lost sight of Lidun Ludinson the moment the old man stepped forward to embrace him in a massive hug.
* * *
“Were it not for you four, I might be burying more than one daughter today,” Lidun Ludinson said as they joined him for dinner in his great hall. “I want you to know that I am grateful for your assistance, even if I do not appear so. Ulferior was a wonderful woman, full of spirit and . . . and joy.”
Lidun’s words caught in his throat as he picked over his quickly prepared lukewarm stew. He had made some apologies about the food, seeing as so many of the kitchen slaves had taken the opportunity to run off in the chaos. Lidun swore he would see the lot of them hanged, and Takeo had to deliver a swift kick to Gavin’s shin to prevent the knight from rising in protest.
Slavery is a way of life here, Gavin, Takeo tried to say with his eyes. Be mindful of that.
As for Lidun’s lack of appetite, this surprised no one. Takeo did his best to look sympathetic and understanding as silence fell over their meager meal.
In the end, Valdis took up her father’s duty and addressed Takeo and his companions.
“I have six siblings, all sisters,” she said, the sorrow in her voice hidden under a mask of obligation. “Ulferior was the second oldest, but let me introduce you to the others. This is Thorbjorb, Yrr, Yngvildr, and Otkatla.”
Those four nodded to the newcomers, who nodded in return.
“I still can’t believe you arrived when you did,” Valdis said. “I would be s
uspicious of such timing had I not seen you kill so many of them. How is it you came to us now? And why?”
Takeo did his best to explain briefly that they were headed to Juatwa. They were only looking for a place to stay and rest their weary feet. Fate, it seemed, had taken care of the timing.
“I’m in debt to you all,” Lidun said. “You can stay as long as you like.”
“A week should do,” Takeo replied. “And thank you very much.”
“Can I ask why none of you are named Lidun?” Nicholas asked. “It’s viking tradition to be named after your parents, but none of your names are even close to Lidun.”
There was a pause before answering as everyone had a mouthful of food. Lidun might have lost his appetite, but the others at the table were digging into their meals, Takeo included. It’d been a long time since he’d had food of any warmth besides the leftover, burnt-to-crisp remains of a dragon attack. A glance to his left showed that Gavin, Nicholas, and Krunk were in agreement as they gobbled down their stew while also trying to appear mindful of the mourning in the air.
If they were failing in that attempt, Lidun and his daughters had grace enough not to be offended.
“You can thank my uncle for that,” Valdis finally answered. “My father doesn’t like to admit it, but he and the rest of the family have always envied Koll’s strength and fame. My father thought it odd that the youngest of his brothers, the only one to be given a non-Ludinson sounding name, rose to the height of viking legend. My father was—or rather is—superstitious and thought maybe there was power in a name after all.