Battle Through the Nine Realms - Chapter 45 - Enlisting Aid (Patreon)

Groans came from Skarf as three of the four young warriors approached.  One was a potential shieldmaiden, and the other two were hoping to earn their dreng title soon.  

“Use the shield! Protect Skarf!” Einar shouted as the three arrived.  “Don’t get hit!”

None of them said anything, moving into a standard row of three, three feet or so between each one, spears out.

Einar didn’t care that both men’s spears wavered slightly from the fear they were dealing with.  He was struggling to deal with the situation and the possibility that Skarf might be beyond healing.

Moving a few yards ahead of the group, he set himself, preparing for whatever the troll might do.

Its left arm reared back at fifteen yards and sent the weapon it was holding flying end over end.

The speed at which the tree trunk flew was impossible to track, and it slammed into the shield one of the young Vikings held.

All that was left as the wooden piece of death continued to bounce into the forest was the knees down, still upward for a moment before they tipped over.

Retching came almost a few seconds later, but Einar didn’t have time to worry about the other Vikings.

Taking a few steps, he lunged the moment the creature threw its weapon and he saw it wasn’t coming for him. That momentum Einar had just created the speed and power he needed for this throw.

The spear flew like an arrow, piercing through the troll’s chest, missing the heart he had been aiming for.  A thin thread had appeared, and as he released the spear, it vanished in the air.

Even without the thread to guide the attack, the metal tip pierced its chest, another six inches of the eight-foot-long spear vanishing inside as well.

Roaring in anger and pain, the troll snapped off the wooden shaft and charged at Einar, who was drawing both axes and preparing to engage.

An arrow shot past him, striking the troll in the face, missing anything vital, but the projectile had surprised both Einar and the creature, causing its first swipe with its club to miss completely.

Snapping out of the confusion, Einar’s eyes saw two threads appear, the first time it had ever happened before.

As the troll stumbled past him on his right, the momentum of its swing sending it off course, Einar let his body take over as he followed where they led.  Two right-to-left attacks were set up, aimed at the monster’s knee.  His right hand easily traveled the path before him while his left hand struggled, unable to keep the concentration required to follow both.

One thread blinked out, but the other remained, and Einar used the new-found Strength that flowed through him. The axe Reinn had given him cut through the top of the creature’s knee right as its leg prepared to take a step.

The angle was perfect, slicing down the bone, shaving skin, muscle, and, most importantly, the ligament that held everything together on the inside.

Its leg faltered, and the knee buckled from the lack of stability, sending the creature face-first into the dirt.  As it fell, the log it had been holding onto rolled free, leaving it defenseless for a second.

Einar turned, hacking at the injured leg and severing the Achilles as he had many times before, knowing if it couldn’t stand, it was weaker.

It rolled over, trying to fight back and defend itself, but having lost its weapon, it found out, as many before had, that its claws were not good against Einar’s axes and his aim.

“Spear from behind!”

The troll was twisting and turning, focusing all of its attention on the man with the axes who was carving the flesh from its body.

A spear came from behind, landing a solid blow in its neck, coming halfway through before the troll twisted, ripping a larger hole open and sending a waterfall of blood gushing forth.  It tried to reach the one that had speared it but instead caught the shield of the other Viking that had come up to support, sending him tumbling about four feet.

“Backup!  Let it die!”

They gave the creature space as it flailed around on the ground, unable to stand and hands missing a few fingers trying to stop the blood pouring from its open wound.

Quickly, it succumbed to the loss of blood and fell over, its breathing getting shallow.

[ Rune Experienced Gained ]

The Viking that had been sent flying was getting up, his shield arm hanging down and his shield a few feet away.

A massive grin was on the young girl’s face as she saw the troll no longer taking a breath, knowing she had played a role in defeating it.

“ANOTHER!”

Einar sighed and saw that there was indeed another troll coming.

“Get in position! I need another spear! You!” he shouted while pointing to the boy with an obvious broken arm or shoulder. “Get me another spear! Stay back and find the damn healer!”

***

Panting, Einar held his left arm, wincing as the healer did what she could.

Around him were seven troll bodies, and next to them was the young warrior who ignored his instructions to stay back with a broken arm.  His spear had saved Einar, but it had cost him his life.

Only the future shieldmaiden and the one with the bow remained.

“Skarf?” he asked, watching the healer's eyes.

“He’s done for the day. Three more are out. You’re down to seven, and Thorodd said to join him when I’m done.”

The woman was older and had gray eyes, the first pair she had ever seen.  Her gray hair seemed out of place as she had no wrinkles, but her body was covered in tattoos.  Under her robe and arm sleeves, golden light came as she healed.  Even her face, with the varied lines that made up her tattoo, brightened up the forest a little.

Nodding, Einar watched as the two support personnel gathered the weapons that had been stacking behind him into a barrel and carried them to where the others were waiting.

“You know the rumors about you?”

Her voice caught him off guard, and Einar saw her looking at him. The tattoos were starting to lose their golden light, and his arm felt almost normal.

“I’m afraid to ask what those are,” he replied. “I’m assuming you’re going to tell me?”

She smiled and slowly shook her head.

“No… those two watched you face down troll after troll and asked for their help.  They know they are weak compared to you and those creatures. Yet they overcame their fears and trusted in you.  Even when they made mistakes, you didn’t berate. You corrected and encouraged.  Both of them will sing the praise of Einar Sibbison and how he trained them to be warriors.”

A weight pressed upon his shoulders as he considered what she had said.  Every Hersir knew the pain of leadership and the weight of it.  He had known it with his team.  When a decision had to be made, it came down to him.  Options and discussion were sometimes possible, but many times, it was just reacting to what happened and trusting the training he had done.  

“I’ll try to make sure I live up to that heavy burden.”

She laughed, and her voice sounded nothing like it had before.  It was light and gentle.

“Do not become crushed under it.  Continue what you are doing.  Surround yourselves with Vikings who hear the same call and drive this filth from our lands.  We need more Einar’s in our kingdom.”

With that, she reached up and patted his face, ignoring the blood that had dried on it. She turned and moved quickly to join the main group.

“Odin, you’re a sneaky rat bastard,” he muttered to himself. “Going to get me in trouble with everyone if I’m not careful.”

***

“Group one is still fighting to the south,” Thorodd informed him and the rest as they drank some water and ate a quick snack.  “Pack two is helping them, and we are going to absorb the fourth group into ours.  Five men are down from four, and I believe last I heard, six total between groups one and two.”

Some of the men grunted, but none said a word.  Each of them knew the cost of this job.

“Once they get here, we will continue pushing out.  There will be a few more last attempts to find where these packs are coming from.  Close to 100 trolls have died if the average is right for all groups.  That means either we are in for a lot worse, or we should be nearing the end.”

“I’m not sure it could get much worse,” Luit muttered as he looked at his shield brother Hallad.

“You know, that's like asking Loki to break your weapon or shield while you’re fighting,” Thorodd said, earning a few chuckles from the others as Luit frowned.

“We have at least six more hours of fighting left.  Be smart, and don’t make stupid mistakes.  We can’t afford anyone else to get injured.”

Everyone sat in silence, taking a minute to rest and eat until the remaining five from group four made it over to them.

Once things were organized and discussed, Einar found himself partnered with Luit and Hallad.  Luit was a skilled spearman and considered by many in the warband to be in the top five with the weapon, a fact proven by how he and Hallad had survived so well. The dark-haired man wasn’t any taller than Einar and even a little less muscular, but every pound of muscle was hardened from years of fighting.

Hallad was a few inches taller and looked like someone had made him swallow a tree.  He was round, but his Endurance and Strength were respected by all.  Hitting him with an attack often did nothing, and the shields he used had more metal bracing, allowing him to survive the blows of the trolls.  He wasn’t fast, but no one wanted to get hit by him either.

“So, what do you call that style of haircut?” Einar asked, pointing at the brown mohawk the taller Viking sported.

“It’s my cock feathers,” he replied with a gruff voice. “You should come with Luit and me when we go drinking. I color it sometimes just for fun.”

Frowning, Luit shook his head slowly behind his friend, where only Einar could see.

“Perhaps I will.”

A groan came from behind Hallad, and the man turned to see his shorter friend glaring at him.

“Please don’t make me go again.  If I have to hear you cluck like a chicken once more—”

“It’s a rooster, and I crow!”

Both men started to argue, and Einar looked at Thorodd, who was smiling way more than he should have been.

That bastard! He knew how bad this group was going to get!

A whistle came, and each group of three spread out, leaving about twenty yards between them and their support group.

“I see you got some pups,” Luit said, motioning to the two who had fought with him during the first round.

“I’ll take them anytime,” Einar replied.  “Like a fool, I don’t know their names, but the shieldmaiden killed two, and the other bought me more time than I can tell you with his precision with a bow.”

Hallad scoffed and looked back at the group behind them, each carrying a barrel of weapons in their arms except the one with about twelve spears on his shoulder.

“What warrior uses a bow?”

“One that knows sometimes you don’t need to get hit to prove you’re a man,” Einar said.  “Don’t forget that not everyone here gets as many meals as you do.”

Luit roared with laughter, and a whistle from the middle cut the man off, forgetting the need to stay quiet at the moment.

“Okay, I changed my mind.  He can come when we go drinking just because I’ll have someone with me to make fun of you.”

Turning his shield upside down so his hand was visible, Hallad made a great effort to make sure both Einar and Luit saw his hand gesture.