Battle Through the Nine Realms - Chapter 42 - Never a Dull Moment (Patreon)

“I’m not sure how we are going to manage when you leave us,” Thorodd stated.  “Already you have two shieldmaidens who were excited about a new toy they found.  Apparently, they were about to kill Lampi because he wouldn’t let them join us returning to Kopanes.”

The tall man grunted as he sat on bags at the back of the last cart on top of the ore.  The ride wasn’t comfortable as every bump jarred from head to toe, but not having to walk for four days was a rare perk in this line of work.

“Seriously, did you have to give that speech last night?  Lampi himself is now ready to sign the moment you raise enough funds for 100 men.”

Chuckling, Einar smiled and patted Thorodd on the back.

“I can tell you want to join too.”

“You bet Odin’s beard I want to join! That’s the problem! Eventually, Bior and the others are going to get upset with you stealing their best men!”

Some of the others had turned to see what the loud conversation was about but, noticing it was nothing more than some hand waving and not a fight, returned to keeping watch of the forest.

“You need to be quiet, or we’re going to get attacked,” Einar said.  “But it doesn’t matter then.  If I take only the best ones, I’m not certain you’ll make it.”

Ducking, Einar almost didn’t avoid the slap that was aimed at his head.

“See, I can't even hit a man without any facial hair.”

Both of them chuckled and watched as the road turned and twisted behind the caravan.

“How many years till you think it will no longer be a dream?”

Einar sighed and did the math again in his head.  Sometimes, it changed for the better, and other times, expenses added years.

“The way you ask, it’s like you want it to happen now.  Besides, I still need another arm tattoo, and the one I want isn’t going to be easy to acquire.  Bior said I’ll need to head to the capital and purchase it there.  Crafters in Kopanes won’t have the materials to make it.”

“What can you be aiming for that a warrior can’t get in the city?”

Winking, Einar shook his head and tapped his temple.  

“I won’t share my plan.  Only six people know, and I trust all of them with that knowledge for a variety of reasons.  If I shared what I’m planning on doing, all it would do is increase the price of what I seek.  After I have it, then I’ll tell you.”

Making the crude hand gesture, Thorodd grunted and shifted toward the edge of the cart.

“Fine, don’t tell me.  Just promise me that when the time comes, you remember the good-looking, blond-haired, massively-built Viking who said nothing when you went to bathe with two shieldmaidens.”

Einar laughed as Thorodd jumped off the cart and then turned, coming back to grab the shield held out for him.

“By the way, Skarf is still pouting about not getting to hear details. Makes me wonder if the rumors are true that he has never known a woman.”

Thorodd’s laugh echoed through the woods, and it was that laugh that brought their first bit of trouble.

***

Two trolls had arrived, finding that the easy meal they had hoped for wasn’t going to happen.  The six Vikings dispatched them quickly with no real injuries.  The long spears provided a way to keep them at bay while Thorodd and Einar attacked from behind with the two-handed axes.

Only their tusks were taken, leaving the rest to rot and draw the attention of others, hopefully buying time between the next fight.

***

“Keep going!” one of the wagon guards shouted.

Einar fired another shot from the back of the cart that bounced and bucked on the dirt road. Eight wolves had appeared from the forest, charging after them, and two had died from the initial barrage of arrows. After that, they split up, flanking the caravan through the trees.  

One had fallen when it left the safety of the woods. Skarf was more skilled than Einar with the bow, and he had put it down with a fantastic shot to its lungs.

“We’re hours from the barrier! The horses can’t keep up this pace!” Thorodd yelled.

“But you need to keep them free from the wolves! Two more and we can walk! Right now, the fight is still in their favor!”

Skarf sat on the back wagon with one of the warriors seated near the horse with a spear.  The wolves were no longer trying to attack the creatures, content to bide their time and see when they might find an opening, especially if the animals wore themselves out.

Minutes passed, and soon, the truth was evident to everyone.  The horses were wheezing, unable to keep this pace any longer as sweat covered their bodies, and the foam was all over the bit in their mouth.

“Slow them down! Be ready!” Thorodd shouted.

As the horses accepted the fact they were no longer going to be whipped and started to slow down, the wolves howled in unison.  

With amazing precision and teamwork, the wolves surrounded the three carts from the forest, one on the left side of each cart and two on the right, taking the gaps between the carts.”

The horses moved almost like a crawl. The five minutes of running had sapped them of all their Strength and had been a horrible decision by the wagon drivers.  Thorodd had wanted them to run the horses, hoping to decrease the number of attackers, but all it had done was expose them to any other threats that came.

“Bows ready! Spearmen, be ready!”

Everyone was in position as the drivers kept the horses moving as a unit, each animal struggling to stay at a walking pace. 

Einar could see blood on the back of the horse from where it had been struck over and over, and it bothered him to see the animal had been treated like that.

“Left!”

Thorodd’s shout had Einar, Skarf, and one of the Vikings from the fort focused on the movements right at the edge of the trees.  The wolves were showing themselves.

“I’ll keep right!” Einar yelled, seeing that the other two had moved closer when the archers had turned.

Howls came from the right side, and both groups of wolves ducked back under the protection of the thicker trees.

The Viking from the fort fired a shot and missed, quickly replacing the missed arrow with another. 

Every move they made resulted in the wolves responding with howls, alerting the entire forest that there was food nearby.

For the next hour, the game of cat and mouse was played.

***

More howls came from the north, and Einar glanced ahead at Thorodd, who was grimacing.

Packs might fight, but they also might work together and try to bring them down.  Afterward, then, they could see who was strong enough to claim the meal they had procured.

The wolves on the right suddenly dashed backward and crossed the road, almost getting shot by Skarf, who missed when his cart jolted from hitting a rut.

Scanning the forest on the north side, Einar listened as the howling got closer.  Soon, the shapes of four more wolves appeared.

“Four!”

“We don’t have the arrows to waste!” Skarf shouted. “We will run out if we waste them! No more shots if they aren’t within twenty yards!”

His redhead friend was right.  Dozens of arrows had been used up, hitting nothing.  Now, with nine wolves, their choices had just gotten far worse.

Barking and howls rang out from both sides, and one wolf from the five sides pressed toward the wagons, making a move for the back one.  Perhaps it believed that Skarf’s missed shot was a sign the man wasn’t good with a bow, but it learned the hard way when an arrow pierced its stomach, it had made the wrong choice.

It whined and fell back into the trees, quickly falling behind as the wagons continued to press on.

“I’ve got ten arrows!” Skarf called out.

“Seven here!” Einar replied.

“Thirteen!”

Frustration filled his thoughts as Einar tried to consider their options. 

If we surrender a cart and let an animal die, someone could return and gather the ore in a day or two.  Would the wolves allow such a trade?

It pained him that a moment ago, he had been angered at seeing the horse whipped, and now leaving one to die was the first thing he considered.

“I need ideas!” Thorodd shouted above the howls.  “We can’t win like this!”

Sighing, Einar looked at the horse pulling the wagon Skarf was on.

“What if we sacrifice the back wagon and horse? Think they would fight over the one or at least split up?!”

No one said anything, but it was obvious from the look of the driver of the last wagon that the idea wasn’t appreciated.

“Anyone else?” Thorodd finally called out after a few seconds.

No one spoke up, each person knowing there wasn’t a simple solution.

Finally, Thorodd acted on the only real option they had.

“Slow down and draw close!  Be ready to move to the second wagon!”

As the horses began to slow down, the wolves sensed something happening, and their howls grew louder and more frequent.  The horses started to succumb to the fears, and the drivers had to work harder to keep them in check.

Skarf made the quick transition, jumping off the side and bolting from the back wagon, tossing his quiver and bow into the back before scrambling up the side.

A few wolves moved closer, seeing people moving from the safety of the wagons, and each man held their bow ready, poised to take a shot if one got too close.

The Viking warrior from the fort was next, forcing the driver off his seat.  The man protested for a moment before the howls came, and the horse started to react without someone keeping its bit tight.

Frantically, the two men climbed the side, joining the second wagon.

The sound was at a pitched frenzy, both sides laying claim to the meal they sensed was about to be served.

“Go!”

The first two carts started to move away, leaving the horse behind that tried to follow, wanting to stay close for safety.

“Do it,” Einar said.

Skarf pulled back his bow and waited for the shot.  When the moment came, the arrow flew at the horse, striking it through the eye and dropping the majestic creature to the ground.

The yips and howls came, and both packs charged the corpse.

“Don’t fire,” Skarf said as Einar drew back his bow. “Only if they come, we don’t want to draw their attention.”

Sure enough, the wolves began to square off, each one facing down the other, and in a moment, a fight broke out with fur flying, blood spraying, and wails from teeth chewing through flesh.

Both drivers kept the horses moving quickly, putting distance between the carnage they had left behind.

“Oh, the joys of being in a warband,” Skarf said with a sigh. “See the world, save the land, glory for Midgard.  That was your speech last night, right?”

Nodding, Einar frowned but knew there were going to be far worse times ahead.  At some point, death was going to come, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.  Every day, they went out past the barrier, and many knew someone or none of them might return.  

“How many times have you died?”

Groaning, Skarf frowned.

“That’s almost as bad as asking someone their stats.”

“Which, if I recall, you have asked me about 100 times,” Einar replied.

“And I haven’t been told anything from you.”

With the threat of danger seemingly finally over, they took a moment to catch their breath and relax.