They walked along the bank, brushing through knee-high yellow grasses and clambering over boulders. The dark waters flowed fearsomely and each time they thought they had found somewhere to leap across, they were forced to reconsider. At last they came to a place where fingers of rock crept out from both banks, catching the water between them and making it broil through the narrower channel. The gap looked jumpable and Gulbrand led the way onto the rocks. He looked back at Punnr and considered his next words. ‘I won’t make it if I’m holding this stuff, so here…’ He drew his sword, reversed it and presented the pommel to Punnr. ‘Take it.’
Punnr accepted and watched as Gulbrand scanned the far side, then jumped hard and hit the far rocks with his leading leg. The momentum carried him on to dry land and he was over. ‘Right,’ he said, turning back and perching as far out as he could. ‘Give me the weapons. Then you can jump.’ The two men stood facing each other from opposite rocks for long seconds, until Gulbrand shrugged. ‘I trust we’re both still honouring our pact. If not, you had ample opportunity to spit me like a pig just moments ago.’
Punnr stepped back and threw both swords, shields and the sack onto the far bank. Then he returned to the leading rock and jumped. There was nothing for it. If he met a sword blade as he landed, then he had miscalculated. He landed heavily, but Gulbrand steadied him, then picked up Punnr’s sword and handed it back to him.
They walked off into the trees. There were no obvious paths now, but the wider spaced mixed woodland gave ample room for them to infiltrate. The sound of the river receded and the ground beneath the trunks became rolling, creating myriad dips. They began to climb and eventually broke out of the trees onto a small windblown summit. They could see the opposite side of the valley which they had spent the morning descending and above them the mixed woodland continued, rising until in the distance there stood the tower.
‘I wonder if anyone’s made it there yet,’ Punnr said.
‘And if so, how many? Let’s go, we need to get there fast.’
Punnr was about to follow when movement caught his eye down by the river. ‘Wait.’ He crouched on the summit, scanning the ground below.
Gulbrand joined him. ‘What is it?’
‘Something over there. About three hundred yards downriver on the far bank.’
They watched intently, but there was no further movement. The land was as empty as they had seen it all day. ‘Your eyes are playing tricks on you.’ Gulbrand began to move.
‘Maybe… No, wait! There!’ A figure detached itself from the trees and loped across the grass. It was cloaked and armed with a spear and shield and it still wore a fur hat despite the warming day, so they couldn’t discern an identity. It moved fast and then disappeared into the trees again. The two watchers sank lower onto the rocky summit. Long seconds dragged by.
‘Who was it?’ Gulbrand whispered.
‘No telling, but if they keep going they’ll find the rocks where we crossed. Does our pact extend to a threesome?’
Gulbrand looked at him. ‘If it’s one of your Thralls, you’ll outnumber me.’
‘And if it’s one of your Perpetuals, I sure won’t feel I’m in good company.’
‘Then I suggest we go now. Head to the tower. Take our chances there.’
‘Wait! Look.’
The figure had appeared again, moving quickly along the far bank, and there was a second one coming from trees behind. Then a third and a fourth and a fifth. All of them armed, cloaked and trotting along the bank, searching for a point to cross.
‘Shit,’ said Gulbrand.
They flattened themselves to the summit and waited to see if the figures would spy the rock fingers. Sure enough, the leading one halted at the place and stooped to inspect the options. Then he waved to the others and they assembled. One stepped forward and dropped onto the rocks to check the span of the river, using the spear shaft to balance. The watchers had a clearer view of their faces.
‘Shit indeed,’ said Punnr. ‘That’s Ulf. I really don’t need that bastard on my tail.’
‘Three of the others are my colleagues – Dagfinn, Havaldr and the woman, Signe. I can’t make out the one in the hat.’
As Gulbrand spoke, the figure they had first seen swiped his hat off and rubbed a hand through his hair. He raised his face to the sky and Punnr caught a glimpse of the bandaging. ‘It’s Erland. The bastard’s got himself in with the Perpetuals. If he’s made a pact with them, then it’s only five Thralls against nine of you.’ He said it without thinking and Gulbrand looked at him.
Ulf had stood back as one of the others prepared to jump first. ‘So what are we going to do?’ Gulbrand asked.
Punnr was silent for a few seconds, watching the man make it successfully to the near bank. ‘That depends on where your loyalties lie. You can wait here and join up with them. The six of you would make a pretty powerful force, almost certainly a winning number. But you’d have to let me go right now.’
Gulbrand studied the figures below. Three were across and Ulf was preparing to jump. ‘I’ve already said Ulf is a snake. I’ll take my chances with you.’
‘Then we’d better get out of here bloody fast.’
They crawled backwards until they were hidden and were about to dash up the hill, when a disturbance to their left arrested their movement. Another figure broke out onto the summit and drew up sharply when he saw them, levelling his spear. He wore no cloak and he was breathing heavily.
It was Brante.
He looked haggard and for several seconds he barely seemed to recognise Punnr. The three men faced each other.
‘Brante, it’s me!’ Punnr took a step towards his friend. The tall man’s eyes saw him properly for the first time and he gave a relieved sigh, but he kept his spear pointing at Gulbrand.
‘Hail, Punnr. I knew you’d still be standing.’
‘Are you alone?’
‘Aye. Have been for a long time. But then I saw those bastards on the other side and I’ve been tracking them from above.’ He looked at Gulbrand. The Perpetual hadn’t moved and still had his weapon pointed at Brante. ‘Why are you with this one?’
‘We’ve been together since the start,’ Punnr said. ‘We haven’t seen anyone until just now.’
‘Don’t trust him. He’s a filthy Perpetual.’
Punnr took a step towards Brante and held out a calming hand. ‘Gulbrand’s okay. He trusts Ulf even less than we do. I have a pact with him.’
‘Don’t trust any words of his,’ Brante hissed. ‘They’re all out to get us. They already knew about the weapons caches, must have been told in advance. And their only game-plan is to stick all of us Thralls through the guts the first chance they get!’
‘No, you’re wrong.’
‘Listen Punnr, his mates are just minutes away. Watch how worthless your pact is once they get here. Two against six? I don’t fancy our chances. We have to finish him here before the others arrive.’
Punnr glanced back at Gulbrand and realised he was retreating, eyes still on Brante and sword held level. ‘Where are you going, you fool?’
‘I’ll take my chances alone. Your friend doesn’t like me. Sorry, Punnr. It was good while it lasted, but from now on I’m doing it alone.’
‘Wait!’
‘Let him go,’ said Brante.
Gulbrand backed to the trees, turned and headed into the woodland, still carrying the sack of provisions. Punnr watched his cloaked figure recede and disappear over a rise.
He sighed. ‘Bloody hell, Brante. We’d have been better with three. We could have formed a shieldwall like we practised in the hall. Knocked Ulf and his friends about a bit.’
Brante leaned on his spear shaft. ‘Don’t you get it? Half of us are expected to die out here and the Perpetuals have known the score all along. Sine Missione. Without Mercy. They’ll stop at nothing to eliminate us six first, then turn on each other if they have to.’
There was no time to say more. Punnr walked back to the crest and looked down to
wards the river crossing. It was empty. The pack must be over and working its way up through the trees towards them. ‘Erland’s with them.’
‘I know. The little lump of goat shit! Well, I’ve taken care of one already.’
Punnr looked at the tall man. ‘Really?’
‘I had to, otherwise I’d have this spear in the ribs.’
‘So you’ve made your first kill for the Pantheon.’
‘Fuck the Pantheon. I made my first kill to stop myself being gutted and left as a carcass for the crows. And if Ulf and his companions find us, the carrion feeders will have a bloody feast.’
Together they ran up the hill and vanished into the arms of the trees.
Calder had lain in the juniper bushes for thirty minutes after she had witnessed Hertha’s death, too petrified to move. But as the time stretched out and the forest around remained undisturbed, her fear subsided and a new feeling crept into her gut. Her mind kept replaying the image of Einar leaning over Hertha’s body and the way he had been yanking at the sword to release it, as though she was nothing more than a hog run to ground.
She rose from her spot in the bushes and followed the river back to the clearing. Einar was gone. Only Hertha’s body remained sprawled several yards from the bridge. Calder stood respectfully next to her and looked at the face which had smiled and flushed throughout their training. She hadn’t deserved to die like this. Calder wondered whether to do anything with the body, but knew she could never dig a hole in the hard ground. Then she remembered the camera on the end of the bridge. It was pointing straight at her and with a surge of anger she swore she wouldn’t entertain them by trying to move Hertha. So in the end she said a few simple words of farewell and then stepped away to look around the clearing.
What she saw held her gaze and in that second it determined her next plan. Einar had left the longbow and quiver. With the two swords, shield and provisions sack, he must have decided he already had enough to carry. He was a fool. At the very least, he should have hidden them. She picked up the bow and ran her finger down the string and along the curve of the arm. She had never held one before. She positioned herself and tried to pull back on it. The string was incredibly taut. She could barely bring it halfway back towards her ear. She took an arrow, fitted it clumsily and aimed at the tree about fifteen feet away. She drew the bow as best she could and let go. The arrow hit the tree with a resounding thud and pierced the bark enough to remain hanging.
Calder looked again at the bow. She knew she could never hope to use the weapon proficiently without training, but this first shot had shown her that if a target was close enough, the arrow could do damage. She pulled the strap of the quiver over her head, yanked the arrow from the tree and returned it to the quiver. There was a tiny pencil thin track leading off into the woods. She took one last look back at Hertha, held a single finger up towards the camera, then ran up the path.
It took her twenty minutes to catch sight of his cloaked figure. He carried the shield and one sword and had the other tucked in his belt. She followed cautiously until he disappeared over a rise, then she ran headlong up the path until she too reached the rise. Checking over it, she saw he was still walking ahead, but now closer. She knew she needed to get within fifteen feet, but didn’t dare follow further on the path. He only needed to turn and she would be spotted. In a full-on attack, she doubted her rudimentary archery would be any match for his own charge. So she slunk into the bushes on one side. The deciduous trees were winter bare, but there were plenty of scraggy bushes and clumps of long yellow grass growing between the trunks, and the rising ground was still broken by little dips and bumps. She ran uphill. Her months of fitness training were paying off. Her heart beat firmly, but her breathing was regular and contained. She felt strong now. A hunter.
He was looking from side to side and once he turned and checked back down the tiny path. She threw herself to her knees and waited motionless. If he had seen her, he showed no sign. The ground steepened and he began to lean into the climb, less able to look around. He reached a stony section and the rocks were like natural steps taking him upwards. She could see that once he reached the top of these the land flattened again and it would take him from view. So she angled her run in towards the path, timing it to reach the rock steps just as he disappeared over the brow. She drew an arrow from her quiver, fitted it as best she could, then padded lightly and rapidly to the top of the steps. As soon as she reached the top, he came into full view. He was still walking away from her, but she had made up so much ground that he was only twenty feet ahead. She took three steps forward, braced, positioned and took aim, pulling back on the bowstring with all her remaining strength.
She must have stepped on something, or perhaps he simply sensed a new presence in that lonely place, for he swung around. She loosed the arrow in the split second before he could bring his shield across to cover him. Its flight had little power, but it hit him in the stomach and he doubled over, dropping the sword and grabbing at the shaft in front of him, then sank to his knees and looked back up at her with astonishment. She could see that the iron head of the arrow had pierced his flesh.
She lowered the bow. He was still kneeling, pawing at the shaft, staring at her and starting to make small mewing noises. All her anger drained away, replaced by horror at her actions. She stumbled backwards and fled down the rocky steps.
It was minutes before she forced herself to stop and bent double retching. What had she done? He was no more than a boy! She closed her eyes and forced deep breaths. The forest air was cool and damp in her lungs, like that of a cave’s when there seems a deeper undertone, a lower octave, to the very oxygen.
She opened her eyes.
Two hundred yards below, a cloaked figure was looking up at her. It was another one of the Perpetuals and he held a shield and spear slung across his shoulder. Then two more emerged from the trees behind him and she realised another two shadows loomed at the edges of the track. She reached for her Odin clasp and undid it, letting her cloak drop to the ground. Its warmth was of no consequence now and it would hinder her. She took a single long breath and exhaled slowly. Now girl, run like the wind. She spun on her heel and leapt uphill. Even as she did, she heard an excited howl below and the yip of other voices joining the call, something between hyenas and chimps, the primeval sound of pursuit.
She rose onto her toes and let her legs pound in short fast steps up the incline. She was confident she had the endurance to make this a long chase, but she didn’t know if she had the pace. She reached the rocky steps and took them two at a time. With a shock she reached Einar again. He lay unmoving on the grass. She rushed to him and looked into his face, then with a small cry, she tore on.
As she reached a bend, she risked a quick glance back. The five figures were just coming over the rise and they let out a combined yell as they came across Einar. One of them gave him a testing kick. As she ran into the bend, she saw them do the one thing she feared most. They split. The middle figure threw out his arms to right and left, and she saw his companions break into two pairs and disappear either side of him, while he continued rampaging towards her.
She reached another steep rocky section which then levelled out onto a shelf. From this she was able to see out over the trees below, back down to the river and the opposite side of the valley. She wondered whether the other Thralls still lived. Perhaps she was alone in this vast landscape, with no hope and nowhere to run from this pack who had her scent. She was tiring now. Her pace was becoming laboured and even her terror couldn’t keep her from slowing to a walk.
Looking up the hill, she realised the tower was much closer. She could even see a camera high on it, pointing down towards her. The day was dying. Dusk was approaching. What should she do? If she headed to the tower, they would find her in minutes. She walked to the edge of the shelf and peered down. The man on the path was still climbing fast, approaching the steeper ascent below the shelf. With a sinking heart she saw it was Ulf. There would be no reas
oning with him.
And then it struck her that they would all have to return to the path to ascend onto the shelf because it was the only way up. Even as her brain mapped this out, she saw a figure in the woods come towards the rock face and curve back towards Ulf on the path. Then the second one appeared and did the same. They bounded away to her right, back to the path. There would be a few precious seconds when they were all hidden from view as they climbed the rocky section and then they would be on the shelf with her. She leaned over the edge and studied the terrain. She had just one chance or they would hound her all the way to the tower and there would be no escape.
She thrust the bow over her head, dropped to a crouch and swung her legs out over the void. Then she turned on her stomach, explored with her feet until they found purchase and eased herself over the edge. The rock was damp, slippery and loose. Feeling with her boots and scrabbling with her fingers for holds, she took herself lower. She peeked down and grimaced as her right leg sought a niche. For terrifying seconds she could find nothing and thought she would lose her grip, but then her boot caught in a cleft and gingerly she took the weight. It held and she moved her left leg down to the spot she was seeking. Over eons a great branch from the nearest tree had extended its embrace towards the rock, pushing into it and then caressed its way along the face. She placed her foot onto the branch, shifted her weight and then froze still as a voice spoke above her.
‘No sign, but she must still be on the path. It’s the only route.’
If they looked over, they would have her. But they kept running.
She waited until she knew they were gone, then worked her way along the branch to the trunk. Thankfully there were enough lower branches for her to grab and make a clumsy descent. She landed heavily and pain licked up her spine, but she was down and she was away from them. She looked around. She didn’t dare return to the path, so she must head across the slope below the shelf and work her way through the trees. She set off at a cautious run, heart still in her mouth, not quite believing she had fooled them, and then there was a whoop and she jerked to a halt and looked upwards to see Ulf watching her a hundred yards above. Frantically she threw herself across the hillside, but this time they had the advantage of height and they came tearing through the trees.
The Wolf Mile Page 15