by J D Franx
“We have retreated as far as we can without giving up the fortress, and because of the peninsula behind us, there is no worry of attack from our rear, but the necromancer’s forward line is awful tight because of it,” Jarl Brenna reminded them. “I wouldn’t count on many of your missive scouts getting through. At least it means the rebels cannot get their hands on the block of bloodstone unless we fail. We will stand our ground here, even if it means we don’t get reinforcements. We do not want to be fighting the dead inside the mine.”
Engier nodded his agreement. “A few stones the size of my thumb has allowed them to raise hundreds of corpses each. The block we protect is the size of a mule cart. Losing it to these rebels would be catastrophic for all of Sokn.”
“That is why the other clans march day and night to get here, my lord,” Hamay Nordstrom answered as he climbed off the ladder onto the rampart. “We merely need to delay the battle if possible.”
“You have information about their arrival then, Housekarl?” Engier asked.
Hamay bowed to the Jarls. The Housekarl was a highly respected position. As one of Engier’s best warriors and his right hand, Hamay oversaw all of Clan War-Blood’s affairs including acting as overseer for the Temja, clan War-Blood’s young warriors-to-be. Hamay quickly stood before he answered. “Two scouts made it through the rebel’s forward line...”
“Only two?” Engier asked in disbelief.
“Yes, my lord. The first from one of the mountain clans, they have already arrived with fifty men, and will remain hidden within the slopes of the western hills outside the valley, moving closer would reveal their presence and prompt an attack from the rebels. The other scout is from Thane Rollik. He leads close to fifty Riddari horsemen and has agreed to attack from the valley’s eastern lowlands should he arrive in time. The messenger says they are still a few hours away though.”
“That is still good to hear,” Jarl Brenna said. “We only need another hundred men on the western flank in order to surround the rebels from three sides. The Riddari clans can lead the charge and grind the undead into the dirt under the hooves of their war horses, hopefully they arrive in time.”
“Last we heard, the Sea Lords might be here by then also, but they are coming from the south,” Hamay offered, earning a nod from Jarl Brenna.
“Good,” she replied. “Send three of our fastest outriders to intercept the Lords and steer them more to the west. Inform them of the new battle strategy. One should get through.” Even though he was Engier’s right hand man, he bowed and in turn received an immediate nod of approval from Engier before leaving.
“With the ability to attack from two sides, we do have the military advantage, even if it is only just,” Drengr mumbled. “They still outnumber us better than three to one with the forces we currently have.”
“True,” Engier agreed. “And I would back any Northman warrior against a shambling dead man even if two on one. We cannot rely on the Sea Lords or the Riddari, and the walking dead cannot use runed weapons. Besides, all the Rynstar have been accounted for so they will not be making any more runes for the rebels, bloodstone or otherwise. They have to be nearly out of the rune stones they stole from the school at Kastali Fortress by now. The High King’s court wizards put up a serious fight against the rebels in the outer courtyard during the attack so I doubt they acquired a lot of runestones from Savingar.”
“Thank Tyr’s bloody blades and pray you’re right. The damage they’ve done with the little they’ve had...”
“I know, Brenna,” Engier agreed.
“I cannot imagine the chaos they will create should they get their hands on the stone we protect,” Drengr offered.
“Then perhaps you should continue trying to find a way to destroy it,” Brenna snapped.
“I will do so,” Drengr said, and bowed. “Jarls.”
Engier watched the wizard leave and wondered if their friendship would ever be the same. Drengr was an Ama Taugr wizard, he just happened to be a member of the War-Blood clan as well. He had no doubt where the wizard’s loyalty lied, but nevertheless, he knew Drengr struggled with the idea of destroying the bloodstone and that he might have to face his fellow wizards on the battlefield.
“Magic,” Engier spat. “More trouble than it’s bastard worth.”
Jarl Brenna snorted. “Something to be discussed at the next council of Jarls without doubt. Preferably before the moot when we vote for a new High King.”
“Agreed,” he said.
Brenna bumped him gently and pointed forward across the valley. “But for now,” she said. “It looks like our rebels want to talk.”
Sure enough, as Engier glanced back out across the valley, the Ama Taugr rebels moved to the front of the shuffling mass of walking dead. The first of the four wizards carried a flag inscribed with the symbol of peace. The three offset triangles on the unbroken line was one of the symbols known throughout Sokn as the universal sign to speak during times of war, especially when scrawled on a flag of white cloth. Even the indigenous peoples of the south acknowledged it. He had hoped for the crossed spears instead. It meant all would be allowed to leave the parlay unhindered. Without it, there were no promises if talks broke down.
“Well,” Engier said as the Ama Tagur rebels advanced to within a half mile of the fortress and then stopped, while leaving all of the walking dead behind. “I guess we go talk with the wizards before we fight. I’ll get Hamay to find Drengr and send him to meet the rebels, then bring ten of my high guard to the front gate.”
“Have him roust the same number of my own guard,” Jarl Brenna said. “If it’s a trick and these wizards want a fight then our high guard will get us back inside the fortress with the most lives intact.”
Engier nodded his approval and waved at one of the rampart guards to notify Hamay, she quickly slid down the ladder, out of sight. The clan’s heavily armored high guardsmen wore solid plate armor and would fight to the death in order to protect their Jarls. They were big, strong men, even compared to Engier’s large frame, and all were fanatically loyal.
“A moment?”
“Of course, Jarl Brenna,” Engier replied.
“I know we are going to try stalling the battle, but if we do, have you considered ghostwalking the rebels tonight? You carry the hooked blade, as do I and many of my scouts.”
“Entering an enemy camp and killing everyone in their sleep is a battle tactic reserved only for invading foreign armies or for those clans or individuals who do not respect the Northmen ways of life or war,” he explained.
“You mean like taela Ama Taugr wizards who have rebelled against the Skall Council like spoiled little shits?” she hissed.
“It would make a point wouldn’t it?” he asked, scratching his beard in thought.
“A damn clear point in my opinion,” she stated.
“Perhaps it will be worth considering,” he said. “Let’s see if we can convince them to hold off attacking for a night. If possible, I’d rather fight once we have more numbers, or they have less.”
“Very well.”
“Shall we go, Jarl Brenna?” he asked holding his hand out towards the rampart ladder. “The traitors walked the road to parley without guards or living dead, so I do not believe it to be a trick. Drengr can ascertain the likelihood of treachery, he will arrive ahead of us.”
“After you,” she said. “But if it all goes to shit down there, don’t die too easily, Jarl Engier. I’d hate for the Valkyries to pass you by.” She laughed and a slight bow was all he received before Brenna disappeared down the ladder.
SOUTHEASTERN PLAINS OF AUSTAIN
“Jarl Engier, Jarl Brenna,” Drengr said. “May I present Sabjorn Toll. He speaks for the Ama Taugr leading this undead army.”
Engier snorted when the weasel-nosed man stepped forward. An instant dislike of the older wizard overwhelmed him. From his high ponytail of mousy black hair to his scarred hands and wrinkled, beady eyes, every part of the wizard emanated mistrust.
“Jarl Engier,” Sabjorn said, offering a bow. “I am disappointed to see you here, but not surprised. The clans would only unite under your leadership.”
Jarl Brenna scoffed and twisted the handle on her sword. “Disappointed because you must face Sokn’s best warriors on the battlefield, coward? After your treachery at Savingar Castle? What did you expect, wizard? A welcome party and a celebratory banquet?”
“Jarl Brenna, always quick with the tongue,” Sabjorn chided. “I am disappointed because I would hate to take the lives of such warriors.”
“Watch yourself, taela,” Brenna snapped. “Or my blade will have your tongue right now and we can get on with the reason we are here.”
Engier raised his hand to calm her down. “Speak your peace, wizard, if there are no terms to delay battle then we can commence with war.”
“So hasty and so quick to fight. There does not have to be a war, Jarl Engier,” he answered. “Surrender the stone of blood and we will leave peacefully, taking the dead with us.”
“Give us one night to consider your request?” Engier asked.
“No,” Sabjorn said, shaking his head. “One night means several more clans arrive and our victory may not be as assured as it is now. Your messenger scouts are not getting through my forward line, Jarl Engier.”
“You’re awful confident of that,” Drengr suggested.
The rebel wizard smirked back. “You cannot communicate with your reinforcements, and we outnumber you, three to one, or better,” he said confidently. “Though it is getting hard to tell exactly how many dead men are tethered to our magic now when new undead soldiers rise without our command. The magic just does it on its own. Remarkable, really.” The necromancer shook his head as if slightly puzzled by his own words, but quickly added, “Just surrender the stone,” he said.
“That is not an option,” Engier said, spitting at the wizard’s feet.
“And giving you another night to reinforce your position while you wait for reinforcements is not an option either,” one of the other rebel wizards said.
“You’ve raised half the souls of Niflheim with the little you have,” Engier growled. “No more will come your way, so if that is all you’ve come to bargain with, then leave and prepare your mockeries of Northmen warriors. They will not save you from a true Northman’s blade.”
“You would have Sokn lose its two most powerful clans just to keep the bloodstone from our hands, Jarl Engier? You’re outnumbered and the bulk of both your armies are a week away. You can’t have more than two hundred men between you including your high guard, and I doubt the battle-lacking population of the mine will tip the balance in your favor, even should they be brave enough to pick up a spear and fight. Are you sure you can win when we merely want to continue to study the stone’s new properties in peace? I can promise you that even though we now have the knowledge to do so, we will not cut the large block to make individual runes that could raise thousands… hundreds of thousands of undead. We mean no harm to the clans and certainly not to the people of Sokn.”
Engier nodded when Drengr glanced his way in the hope his wizard could get through to his own kind.
“Sabjorn,” Drengr began. “You speak of only study, yet you killed the High King and his family with this pestilence the bloodstone produces. The traces of it are seeping into every living thing in this valley, just look at the area around your camp. Everything has died. We are taught to preserve the grace of Freyja’s beauty. The Earth-mother is weeping for what you have done.”
“The gods are long past concerning themselves with the happenings of mortals, brother,” Sabjorn replied. “Most Northman no longer worship Odin and Freyja. Tyr has taken the throne of Asgard as our people have come to worship war far more than anything else.”
“Sacrilege...” Jarl Brenna snarled, but Sabjorn quickly interrupted her.
“Is it?” the wizard barked back. “How many years of peace have you known, Jarl Brenna? You have been Jarl for only ten years, and you inherited nothing but war from your father. Before we caught your attention, you and Jarl Engier were at each other’s throats over the Dragon’s Breath opal mines at the feet of Freyja’s Grace. You fought over stones in a mountain and now you only unite to fight against us over stones from the earth. Should you defeat our army here today you would return to your own wars where more sons and daughters of Sokn will die for the glory of the war god. It is time this changed. Sokn and our way of life must change.”
Drengr gasped. “You speak dangerous words, brother.”
“Perhaps,” Sabjorn agreed. “But the ancient writings at the Skall tell of a time when war did not dominate Northman life. The school built for our kind has many such writings.”
“Careful, brother,” Drengr said, repeating his warning.
Jarl Brenna stepped forward. Clearly having heard enough, she grabbed Sabjorn by his collar. “You speak with a traitor’s tongue, wizard! The dark times should be left in the past.”
“Why?” Sabjorn asked. “Because the Skeyth—magic users—ruled Sokn? Because there was peace and prosperity for all Northmen, whether slave, serf, wizard, or noble? This world, our world, it knew peace for hundreds of generations under the Skeyth.”
“No,” Drengr spat. “You speak of peace during that time, but you must also speak of the Rune Wars if you do so. There is a damn good reason why the Skeyth no longer rule and why they do not leave their exile from the heights of Freyja’s Grace, Sabjorn. The Rune Wars nearly destroyed Sokn and everything we are as a people.”
The wizard jerked himself free of Brenna’s grasp and shook his head. “In the hundreds of years since then, the Jarls have done far worse, to our people and to our young, whether Northmen or Ama Taugr. They have led us nowhere but down the path of war,” he argued. “Think about it Drengr Stone-Wise. You yourself would never cast a single rune, never use your natural gifts, if you were not in the service of a Jarl who is more of a warlord than a ruler. You are one of the very few Ama Taugr allowed to freely do what we do best. Sokn needs to change, before we destroy ourselves.”
“So that is your plan then?” Drengr asked, clearly stunned by Sabjorn’s words. Engier frowned at the tension in his wizard’s voice but held his tongue as the man continued. “To raise an army of dead, only to force Sokn to its knees under your rule?”
Sabjorn nodded. “I am not interested in being High King, but it is an option we are willing to explore if necessary. The large block of bloodstone can be marked with runes that will change it into a... a kind of forge, if you will. One that will not just create limitless numbers of undead soldiers, but may also prolong life, cure diseases. And if not, at least it will create a disposable army and provide us with a means to end the current hierarchy,” he said. “It will be a far better end than watching the Jarls tear Sokn apart over who will become the next high king. Because I assure you, brother, that is what comes next regardless of Engier War-Blood’s popularity. The ice clans will put forth their ancient claim to the high throne.”
Engier scoffed at the asinine remark. “You will address me directly while I am standing in front of you, wizard, and I assure you that the men and women from the northern ice shelves will never bend the knee to a wizard,” he barked. “The southern clans will also call for unity and then they will grind every wizard into dust at the first sign of a full Ama Taugr rebellion. You will die or be forced to kill all of Sokn’s people, and you will be left to rule over absolutely nothing and no one.”
Sabjorn replied with a crooked smile. “Don’t fool yourself, Jarl Engier, the common people care not who rules over them. Certainly not enough to fight back as you claim. Which leaves only the clans’ warriors. And yes, we will fight willingly, even if it means rebuilding our society in the process.”
“No,” Jarl Brenna growled as her sword rasped from its sheath. “You will not!” Without warning, she swung at the wizard’s head. He ducked easily and stepped back to the snap of breaking runes. Engier stepped in front of Brenna with his shield
raised as the wizard tossed the broken runes at her feet. An explosion of bright white light lit up the area but immediately subsided without doing any harm and Engier knew instantly that Drengr had countered and collapsed the explosion with his own set of runes.
Blinking the glare from his eyes, he lunged forward with his shield but quickly stopped short when he saw the bright swirls of blood red magic surging from the broken runes lining the knuckles of the four rebel wizards. The ground shook under his feet and he glanced down in time to see a skeletal hand burst from the earth.
“Retreat!” Drengr shouted. “There are dead in the ground below us, it’s a trap.”
“It wasn’t meant to be a trap, Brother Drengr,” Sabjorn yelled over the hiss of rune magic. “But the Jarls will never see reason through parlay and so, we must force them to see it.” With one last crack of broken bloodstone, the rebels tossed more runes on to the ground.
A dark red mist permeated the soil and grass at Engier’s feet as more earth stirred over the waking corpses buried below. Both Engier and Brenna’s high guard acted immediately, closing around the Jarls, while leaving them room to fight as the group backed away from the remains of at least a dozen undead bodies rising from the dirt. The walking corpses steamed in the cool morning air and Engier roared before rushing ahead with his high guardsmen.
He slammed into an animated skeleton, pushing at it with his shield. The skeleton shattered under the tremendous blow and he swung his axe at a corpse with more rotting flesh than not. The hot blade sizzled when it struck the dead man’s chest. Engier planted his feet and tore the blade up through the creature’s skull. Seared by the runes forged into his axe, the scent of fried, rotting flesh hit his nostrils and he growled, ripping the blade free in time to see their superior numbers had already won the fight.
Jarl Brenna slashed at the last raised corpse. Her double swords flashed repeatedly until the rotting body fell, unable to move without limbs. Engier wiped the dark ash from his own blade with a heavy cloth as Brenna’s razor-runed weapons pierced the dead man’s skull and the creature finally quit moving.