Battle Through the Nine Realms - Chapter 8 - A Foe Like No Other (Patreon)

A little over an hour of running ended with a sight no one had wanted to find.  

One of the farms used to have a handful of animals.  The pen that had held them was gone. Blood and bits of flesh, and a large pile of crap, was all that remained.  Worse yet was the footprint Magnus finally got to see.

It was three feet long and about a foot wide, letting him figure out for himself just how large the thing must be.

“We’re fools for being out here,” one of the men stated as the group of nine waited on Reinn and his squad.  “Our weapons won’t do much against one of those.”

Murmurs and grumbles took place from the men.

“It’s not about us. We’re fodder, so they can kill it,” Thorketil stated. “Just keep the boys back. Let the warriors do their job.  If we die, we’ll be fine. A day from now, we’ll be back at the village stone and paid for our sacrifice. I’m here for my family just like the rest of you.”

Magnus watched as the men nodded and stared at the ground, kicking the dark dirt with their feet.

I need to find out just what happens when they die. I figured they would resurrect, but are they reborn in town? What happens to their clothes and weapons?

The concept of magic and how it worked almost made Magnus’s brain hurt.  He was a man who understood the importance of the rifle and the caliber needed to shoot a mile shot.  There were tons of optics to choose from, and the glass selected mattered just as much.  He had learned to figure out the wind and drift with a pencil and paper, yet trying to understand how a system of magic worked seemed impossible at the moment.

Thora… I need to lean on her… Hopefully, she can give me what I’m lacking.

“Einar! It’s time to go!”

Valgard’s voice got his attention more than his own name.  The man’s gruff tone was almost always there and had already been firmly planted as something to pay attention to.

“We’re going to stay in pairs and get closer.  The trail is recent, so hopefully, we will find it soon.  If we’re lucky, it might be laying down somewhere, taking a nap after eating so much.”

Magnus frowned, seeing how Valgard’s beard kept moving, a sign his cheek muscles were tightening over and over.

“And if it’s not?” Magnus asked.

Snorting, the older man shook his head and then pointed at Reinn and the other two men with him. “You stay back. Let me and the other men fight.  I’ve still got a few more deaths in me before I’m completely useless.”

A whistle announced they were moving out, and the sun started getting closer to its warning that in three hours, they would have to deal with dusk and then nighttime.  He had already learned a troll could see better at night than during the daytime.

***

Everyone was silent, thankful for the wind blowing east and not north, as they saw the shape of the troll against a tree.  It appeared to be asleep in the shade.  It had taken almost forty-five minutes till the one scouting ahead saw it and came back, informing Reinn.  The horses were left behind, not wanting to risk them to the troll.  Valgard and one of the other men were with Hrein, a unit of a warrior that had stayed near Reinn the entire trip.  He carried a massive two-handed axe that made Magnus think of Vikings on a show he had watched.  His red hair blazed in the sun, casting a very large presence among the others. They had the task of the west side.

Brennor, Thorketil, and one other man had the task of going to the far north side and circling around the troll while three farmers took the south side.

That left him, Osvif, Guat, and Reinn in a group responsible for the west side.

“Don’t screw this up,” Guat said, glaring at Magnus and Osvif through his narrowed eyes.

A hand came and thumped the bully on the head, and Magnus fought the urge to laugh, watching him rub the spot where Reinn had hit him.

“Shut it,” he growled. “We don’t have time for petty stuff. You three watch my sides and back. Don’t be foolish.”

With that said, their Lendmann motioned to the north group, which went east. Everyone was staying low and not saying a word.

Magnus watched as the groups worked together, considering the tactics they were using. Against a troll or any large creature in this world, surrounding it seemed like a good tactic, but the weakest side would cause a problem.  

The south side, with the three farmers, each using axes and shields, provided the break point against a creature with intelligence.  From what Osvif said earlier, trolls weren’t stupid.

As the group to the north and west were in position, Reinn motioned for him and the two other boys to follow.  Osvif had a pitchfork while Guat not only wore leather armor, carried a much nicer-looking shield with metal reinforcements, but also had what appeared to be a newer axe.

Reinn was holding a long spear and a shield but also had an axe hanging on his hip.  

It’s hard to hate someone because their kid is an asshole when you see they are prepared for a fight like this.

Magnus watched and mimicked Reinn's movements, studying how the large man carried the weapons he wasn’t used to. 

As they got in position, a growl came from the tree about fifty yards away from them.  

“For Odin!” Reinn shouted, knowing that the troll had woken up, smelling their group as the wind blew across.

All four groups came racing toward the troll, who stood up and turned in a circle to see the incoming collection of men.

Its shoulders were massive and thick, muscular arms hung down to its knee, and sharp claws were on each of its fingers.  The longer snout for its mouth had tusks and teeth showing with a closed mouth, but when it roared at them, a bundle of yellowish teeth presented themselves, ready to tear flesh apart.  Worse was the brown skin that covered it, patchy in some areas.

Magnus would have sworn the ground shook as the creature stomped about, turning and lunging toward the group to the north.

Brennor held out his spear, putting it against the edge of his shield, and prepared for the assault.  The two men with him managed to get into position, holding up their shields and shouting as they waved axes in the air.

The stench of rotten flesh and foul body odor hit Magnus as they changed their position, getting closer as the other two groups came to help.

A massive fist came down, slamming into the dirt of the field, sending grain heads scattering.  

Brennor thrust out his spear, but the sharp, heavy tip didn’t seem to penetrate the skin on the troll’s arm from Magnus’s perspective.  The creature swung again, this time with its left hand, and slammed into the shield of the man beside Brennor.

Like a rag doll, the farmer who had been struck was sent flying backward and into the tall stalks of grain.  

Magnus knew that most likely, if the man was alive, every bone in his arms and chest had to be shattered.  

Brennor thrust again, this time his spear catching the edge of the troll’s stomach, causing it to roar as it swung for the larger man again.

Reinn yelled, as did Hrein, both men attacking from the sides, trying to cause damage and help their fellow Vikings out.

Mangus could see that Reinn’s thrust had speed and power behind it, catching the troll in the back, sinking almost half the length of the nine-inch metal head.

As their Lendmann struck, Hrein swung his axe at the beast like a baseball bat sliced into the creature’s right hip. The sound of metal hitting bone would have been heard if not for all the shouting and yelling.

Whirling on its feet faster than Magnus could believe, the troll’s arms flailed outward, the right one catching Hrein in the arm, sending him and the massive axe flying to the south.

The troll didn't stop its momentum, coming around at Reinn, who had pulled back and managed to yank his spear out of harm’s way in time to prevent getting hit by the attack.

Brennor drove his spear into the troll’s back, yet Magnus couldn’t see what had happened other than the troll charging the three men holding the south.

They stood there, shields held high and weapons ready, but before they could even try to get an attack, two of them were pulverized by downward attacks and flattened underneath their broken shields.

Every part of his body wanted to freeze.  The power the troll was capable of was beyond anything Magnus’s mind could or wanted to believe.  Against it, what chance did he really have?  What chance did the group as a whole have?

Reinn and Brennor didn’t stop their attacks, both men continuing to thrust their spears out, inflicting damage that seemed insignificant.  Blood was flowing from the troll’s wounds, and the gash on its right hit caused it to move slightly slower, but none of it did anything to turn the tide of this fight.

Magnus watched as Valgard came in, holding his axe in his right hand.  The troll had turned, its attention directed at the two men creating holes in its side and back.

The axe sliced through the air, cleaving another hit to the same area Hrein had struck earlier.  It seemed to do enough damage to warrant a swing of an arm from the beast in Valgard’s direction.

Somehow, the older man ducked down and under the swing, rolling along the crushed grains and back to where the other Viking farmer stood, doing nothing more than holding his shield.

“Attack, you cowards!” Reinn shouted, trying to spur the other men on.  The loss of Hrein was leaving a big gap in his plans.

Glancing at Guat and Osvif, both boys stood there, not moving and afraid to get closer.  If it crushed men as easily as that, they had no hope.

Not waiting, Magnus knew what needed to be done.

He tossed down his axe and sprinted to the south, earning a shout from Guat and a curse from Reinn.  

The sounds of the battle were horrible to hear.  Bones crunched when the man next to Valgard had been too slow, taking a giant fist to his shield, sending the man tumbling.  The man had almost rolled into Magnus as he made his way to where Hrein lay.

Grunting and gasping came from the Viking lying in the field of grains.  Blood was coming out of his mouth, and Magnus realized an arm had been torn completely out of socket, most likely only held on by the man’s armor.

Glancing around the tall grains, he spotted the ones that were knocked down nearby and ran over to them.  There on the ground was the massive axe Hrein had used.

Grabbing it with both hands, Magnus lifted it up.  It weighed more than he thought it would, but this wasn’t the time to complain.  Every second counted, and if he was going to help, he had to move now.

Running back at the troll with the axe held high and over his right shoulder, Magnus saw Valgard getting up from another roll, somehow dodging another strike.

The man’s eyes went wide, and he frowned but said nothing, giving a simple nod at Magnus.

Without hesitating, the man who had treated him like a bastard charged the troll again, yelling and shouting while coming at it with his weapon ready.

Reinn noticed the change in Valgard and, spying on Magnus’s approach, also moved accordingly.  Whatever damage Magnus was going to do, it had to be allowed to hit.  

His mind raced as the axe in his hand started its approach.  He was still eight feet from his target, using his hips and his entire body.  Chopping trees as a kid had taught him how to put in all his weight and power.  Watching Hrein’s attack had shown him the way he needed to swing the weapon.  

A lifetime of shooting and knowing where to aim played out in this moment.  He wasn’t strong or tall enough to take off the troll’s head. Even if he hit the same spot Hrein had, the odds of it doing any more damage were minimal.  His eyes tracked the spot he felt would be best.

It didn’t need to be perfect.  It just needed to connect.