BTtNR - Book 2 - 032 - Entering the Beastkins Domain (Patreon)

“Remember, move silently, stay in my patch and watch your steps.  Ten yards between everyone.”

Hogni’s instructions were met with nothing but a bob of heads as the pack set out with Varitan into the woods, slightly away from the road.

In front, their best archer traveled behind Thorleif, who had a reputation for being skilled in the woods.  Geir was in the back with his bow and Skardi, the larger man not being the most quiet when it came to moving through the woods.

Einar and Thorve were in the middle while the rest were arranged per Osvif’s recommendations.

Cloth strips were tied around their armor and weapons, trying to minimize the sound as they moved.

This stuff smells so weird… one would think I would be used to it by now.

Before him, Bodalf was bent low, moving quickly along the trail their leaders were setting.  Two long swaths of black blood ran down the man’s armor and Einar knew he had the same done on him.

Only one jar left… Part of me would pray to run into more but with all the shit we’re dealing with, I don’t want another thing to worry about.

Lost in his thoughts, he listened to the forest as it came alive in the morning.

Sunlight didn’t reach in the woods yet as it had just begun to turn the skies into an orange and red painting.  

Birds called out and insects responded with their own noise, almost taunting the hunters above to come and try to find them.

***

“Traps. We need to shift direction.”

Einar gave a thumbs up as Bodalf pulled his cupped hands from his ear, having whispered as quietly as possible.  Turning, he mimicked the action, telling Thorve the problem ahead before returning his attention to the trio that were deciding the best option for them all.

The hairs on Einar’s neck rose.

“Incoming!”

Hogni’s cry had everyone react at the same time, shields coming up as the Vikings shifted.

Stones impacted a few seconds later against his shield, and the sound of their healer crying out caused his heart to miss a few beats.

Turning, he saw the woman on the ground behind him, holding her arm, which was bent wrong as she grimaced, runes lighting up.

“Thorve! Protect her!”

He moved and saw their healer biting her lip, eyes locked on him.

“This… will… take me a bit,” she got out before a scream escaped her lips.

“I got her!” Ospak exclaimed as he moved to join Varitan, who was standing next to Thorve.

Both men had their shields out and were bent down, protecting the two sides.

Shouts came and Einar turned to see what was unfolding.

There in the trees, about thirty yards away, were a dozen dark brown catkins with slings, sending rocks in their direction with exceptional aim.

The slight buzz of their spinning had been the sound that had made his neck hairs stand up.

Arrows struck a few as another volley came and the Vikings moved to engage.

“Dont!” Osvif shouted. “There are probably traps! We’re probably in a box! Fall back a few hundred yards!”

“Boldalf cover me!”

The warrior moved and took Einar’s outstretched shield, another rock clanging off the newer ones they had gotten from the elfs.  

Drawing the bow on his back, he cursed inside, not wanting to fight like this but seeing they had no choice.

Letting an arrow go, it sped at his target who tried to dodge, almost making it but took the arrow to its shoulder instead of its chest.

Blood came, and red eyes glared at him with hate.

Arrows and rocks were traded and in less than five minutes the catkins were gone, some dead, the others having run back into the forest, vanishing quickly.

“Form up! Gather together!”

All of them moved quickly, watching their steps and built a turtle shell as they watched Thorve continue healing herself. She was sweating and it appeared her arm was at least in the right position.

“How long till you are fine?” Varitan asked as he glanced over and under the shields that protected them.

“Five minutes.  It’s harder to heal myself.  I… I should have been prepared.”

“Bah,” Einar replied. “We got caught.  I’m not sure how as I know we all still stink.”

Turning to where Osvif was, Einar waited for a report.

“Perhaps their noses are not confused by our scent? Regardless, there are traps ahead of us.  We need to make it to the road and take it instead.”

“That’s a death trap,” Varitan argued.  “The trees are thick and right against the road. We would be defenseless.”

“This isn’t our woods and when things become nighttime, we will be at a disadvantage,” the red headed Viking replied. “We can run, keep up a pace and try to stay ahead.  Staying here means death, and a slow one at that.”

“Can we carry you?” Einar asked their healer.

“You can… I will manage.  Sorry to be the one who slows us down.”

Snorting, he gave a smile, doing his best to soften his expression.

“You carry us, it is our turn to carry you.”

“Thorodd, you’re up.  Show this healer how strong you are.”

A slight rush of red color hit the Viking’s face but he nodded and stored his shield on his back, moving from the circle that drew closer, sealing up the opening in a moment.

With care he picked up their healer in his arms and smiled.

“Oh how I’m going to tease you about this.”

Frowning, the older woman shook her head.

“Gods, perhaps I should have let that rock hit my head…”

A few chuckled, and then Einar gave a grunt that silenced them all.

“Osvif, Hogni and Thorleif. Lead us back the way we came and find the road.  We need to move fast.  Stealth is good but we can’t depend on this blood to do anything. Now move!”

Like a damn breaking, everyone moved in a moment, flowing back in the direction they had come, shields prepared as they followed the trio tasked with getting them out alive.

***

No one was breathing hard even though they had been running non stop for the last twenty minutes.  It had taken time for the trio to set a path, checking everywhere and ensuring no one would set off something that might kill them or injure everyone else.

As the road came into view, a few roars sounded behind them in the forest and the men moved quickly.

“How far?”

“At this pace? Five hours? Maybe six?” Varitan replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Honestly, Einar, I’m not sure this is the best plan.  We’ll be running into their den with no idea what lies before us.”

The sound of barks, yips and other animal noises from the direction they had come cut off the discussion.

“We don’t have a choice.  Failure isn’t an option.”

***

“Hold still!” Thorve exclaimed as she placed her hands on Ospak’s head.  Blood flowed from the claws that had raked his scalp, slicing through the leather cap.

“It burns!”

“And I had a broken arm and cried less, now silent!”

Two dozen beastkin lay dead on the road.  Einar was moving through them with Thorodd and Geir, studying the carnage.

“I’ll be fine,” Geir told the pair. “A simple cloth will stop the bleeding. For now Thorve needs to conserve her Wyrd and my injury is minor.”

Their second in command grunted and tapped his left quad where a matching piece of cloth was wrapped a few times, blood staining the tan material. 

“He’s right. We need to move if we’re going.  None of us are tired, just a few scratches.  Still those bearkin were far worse than I imagined.”
Einar nodded, having witnessed the man go toe to toe with a nine foot tall bear, each of them slashing at the other. 

“I’m just glad we upgraded these shields. Those wooden ones would have never survived these things.”

“Three minutes and we go!” Einar called out as he nodded. “We have to move!”

Varitan jogged from where he had been tying a few bandages and placing some herbs on two of the other injured warriors.

“What is your plan? I mean seriously, we cannot hope to fight an entire village!”

It had been a while since he had seen such concern on his Elven friend's face and Einar wished his answer could be better.

“I have no idea.”

“What? What do you mean no idea?!”

Shushing the elf whose fists were clenching and unclenching, it didn’t take a lot of perception to see he was panicking slightly.

“Freyr gave us this boon. He set us on this path.  Whatever we’re supposed to do has to be there,” Einar replied as he stood tall and spoke loud enough that everyone could hear. “I doubt he would want us to slaughter every beastkin which means something has to be in their village or den or whatever that will possibly solve all this.  If you’re scared, I won’t think less if you run back–”

“I’m not going to run away.” The tone was like gravel across stone as the elf warrior locked eyes. “Never call me a coward.”

Einar sighed and shook his head.

“I’m not calling you a coward. I know that for you, death is permanent.  For us, it’s temporary.  I cannot promise you won’t die and as such, if you need to protect yourself, then go. None here will think you a coward for that.”

Only the sounds of the wind and the forest came as the two stood there, a foot apart.

“Compare dick sizes later,” Thorve called out, causing a few men to chuckle. “This baby is fine enough to move and neither of you are dumb enough to think anyone can run back alone.  So let’s move.”

Einar knew he was frowning, upset that Varitan was right but also that his friend didn’t seem to trust the very god that gave them this task.

“Forgive me if I dishonored you. I never want to do that to you.”

The tension in the elf’s cheeks lessened and he gave a quick nod, still standing there, unwilling to back down.

“You heard our healer,” Thorodd called out. “Get your gear and let’s move. Stay in formation!”

Einar moved to join the rest, leaving the elf there as the victor of their standoff.

***

“Protect Thorve!”

Thorodd’s shout rang out as the pack of thirty different beastkins assaulted at the same time their formation.

Catkins, wolfkins, and bearkins were moving as one.  

The seven catkins had their slings spinning, fist-sized rocks moving with ease. 

Wolfkins charged on all four legs before lunging as they always did, timing their attack with the larger beastkin who would stand up and use their size to swipe at the closest Viking.

Anger and frustration was beginning to fill Einar but his wyrd wasn’t going to be able to keep up with his need, especially if they had another hour or two of running.  

Instead, he fought against the desire to try to call upon the lightning, wanting to use the power Thor had given him.  

His bones seemed to yearn and ache for that which had cut down the troll with such ease but the cost had been beyond what he felt was possible now.

Instead fire coated his axe and a trio of wolfkins shifted to come at him as one, seeing the flaming blade.

“Skardi! Prepare for plan D!”

The sound of a shield hitting the dirt wasn’t heard, but the roar that came from their tallest viking was as he pulled the dane axe off his back.

“Say when!”

“On me, shift now!”

The vikings closed the gap as Skardi shifted to the center of the circle, moving to where Einar had called him and prepared for the call. The ones on the side of their leader took two steps the other direction, adding just a little more space.

All three wolfkin moved with a little more speed, closing the distance in a heartbeat, and all of them lunged as one.

“Now!”

Einar forced himself to the ground, dropping down, shield up as Skardi took two steps forward and swung.

His axe cleaved through the three, slicing the half the head off the first one completely, taking off the middle wolfkin’s head at its neck, and drove the blade through the last one’s collarbone, burying it a foot and knocking it to the side.

The momentum of the three were halted as they crashed into Skardi who roared again, yanking his axe free and delivering the killing blow to the third.

In just a second, Einar was back on his feet, his fire axe leaving a trail of embers as he moved outside the circle with the giant in tow.

“For Odin and Freyr!”

All the men roared, the sound of claws against metal ringing out as chaos, blood and death became the only things on the menu.