Haven Keep (Book 1) (65 page)

The noise grew into the sounds of a pitched battle.  Baiden must not have waited for the Halfen to arrive at Azmark, and laid his ambush for them during the night.  Soren almost wished he were there, but he could hear the sad cries of the children and the softer cries of the women.  This close he could even see some faces of the older boys, who no doubt would be sold as slaves to the mines.  These people needed Von and him more than Baiden did..

The Halfen continued to stare toward the sound, some became curious and began mounting horses.  Soren laid low and put a hand on Von’s shoulder.  There were still too many Halfen guards.  Charging through the unsuspecting ranks of a marching army was one thing, but this was different.  He did not think he and Von were capable of taking on over twenty men apiece, at least not like this. Six or seven apiece maybe, but even then, under the circumstances he did not like the odds.  If they were discovered now they would have no choice but to run.

Soren and Von retreated slowly back into the forest.  They would have to wait until the camp settled down.

“Hey!” a voice shouted.  “Over here!”

Too late.  Someone discovered two of the bodies.

Much of the camp ran to where the first two bodies lay.  Soren remained still as the two sentries Von and he had picked out for their next victims ran past.  Von rose from his hiding position with bow in hand.  Soren’s breath caught.  They would be discovered.

Von drew his bow and let the arrow fly.  The man closest to them fell with an arrow in his neck.  His companion noticed the gurgling sounds coming from his dying friend.  He turned in time to take Von’s second arrow straight in the chest.  He fell, but his cry brought more attention in their direction.  Attention Soren did not want.

Four men came running their way.  Von had minimal cover behind a snow covered tree, but he would be seen soon.  He appeared not to care and nocked another arrow.  Soren had two choices, run or draw his bow as well.  He knew Von was not going to run.

The lead man tumbled in the snow from Von’s arrow strike. Soren drew his bow. Von took aim at his next target.

The Halfen men stopped when they saw their friend fall, their eyes darting, searching the forest.

“We are under attack!” one yelled.  He took Von’s next arrow and fell hard.

Soren loosed, piercing the third Halfen in the chest.

The remaining man turned and ran for camp, but did not make it far.  He too fell to Von’s unrelenting attack.  Others came running to investigate.  Six more fell to Von’s and Soren’s bows before the Halfen men realized their folly.

They now came on horseback, with shields to protect them from the missiles that felled their companions.  They charged hard towards Von, who stood in the open not seeming to care who saw him.

“Von!”  Soren called. “Take cover.  We can fight them in the trees.”

Von looked at Soren and hesitated for a minute.  Still he did not move.  Fifteen men on horseback were running him down, at least half had spears, their long steel tips pointed menacingly in Von’s direction.

Soren sprinted to Von’s aid, but there was no way to get there in time, not even with his speed. 

Von dove behind a tree, knocking a spear aside with his sword.  Isk and Jen sprang from the snow snapping at hamstrings, sending the horses into a panic.  Four riders fell to the earth.  Soren took advantage of the confusion.

He rushed with the speed and strength of a primaeval predator among the Halfen.  Those trying to regain control of their horses he ignored.  Isk and Jen would ensure the horses remained in a fright.

Von jumped to his feet, his sword spinning and flashing.  The trees and the snow made it difficult for the Halfen to press their advantage.  They could only come at Von and Soren a few at a time, but Von was not watching his back as he should.

A large man on a massive mount leveled his foot long spearhead at Von’s back and charged.  Soren leaped through the air taking the man from his saddle, stabbing him in the ribs before they hit the ground.  The horse’s momentum continued forward, crashing into Von, pinning him against the low lying branches of a fir.  Soren came to his rescue, fending off a deadly axe swing aimed at Von’s head.  His counter stroke unhorsed the rider.

Von regained his balance and bounded into the saddle of the riderless horse.  Von held sword in one hand and dagger in the other.  The weapons moved as one.  Anyone who came within the arcing circles of his sword regretted it. 

Riderless horses crowded the trees, but Soren preferred to stay on his feet.  He utilized his speed better using his own legs.  The Halfen still in their saddles he left to Von.  Soren dashed between the men on the ground.  The snow hampered their movements, but not Soren’s.  He drew on the strength of the vyr, sent himself into a battle frenzy.   He was the  last of the berserkers.  Soren let loose a rage he had only allowed himself to enter a few times in his life, most recently in the vyr’s cavern.  That time it had saved his life.  He counted on it now to do the same.  The berserker’s frenzy overcame him, took control.

Men fell before him, swept down before his might, crushed by his overwhelming strength.

One man remained on horseback for Von to contend with.  Isk and Jenn ravished two more that had been thrown from their panicked horses.

Soren thought it was over then six riders burst through the trees.  He leaped between the riders, taking down one with his sword and a second with his dagger.  The remaining four galloped passed.  They whirled around trying to run Soren down.  The trees prevented them from maneuvering as one.  Soren bounded onto the back of the nearest rider, pulling him to the ground.  The battle rage consumed him.  He fought in a red fury, swinging and striking violently.  He did not know the number of men he had killed, he only knew he sought more.  This must be the rage Von carried inside.  It was the rage of the vyr, greater than the strength of a mere berserker.  It flooded over him, washed through his veins, shot through every part of his body.  He moved with speed and power, feeling no regret, relentless and remorseless.

All fell silent around him, but his blood pounded a violent rhythm in his ears.  His breathing was labored, short, and heavy.  He knew he needed to calm himself, to again grasp hold of reality, but he now felt free...free to do as his primal instincts desired.  There were more enemies at the camp.  He turned and ran.

Von galloped at his side.  Isk and Jen ran behind, snarling and growling the sounds Soren wanted to voice.

A guard left to watch the prisoners yelled from the middle of the camp.  He held a young woman by her throat, his arm choking her tightly.

“Stop or I will start slaughtering these women!” he screamed.

Soren heard the desperation in the man’s voice.  With barely over ten guards remaining there was no way they could hope to keep all of their prisoners.  They would be lucky to escape with their lives.

Von answered the man with another arrow.  The shaft shot from the Haven Keep bow flew straight and true, an impossible shot from horseback buried deep into the man’s eye.

The Halfen men fled, but they could not flee fast enough.  Von let fly his last three shafts, but Soren did not bother with his bow.  The berserkers’s rage burned within him.  He ran the Halfen men down.  He did not know mercy.  All his emotion fed his berserker rage.  He envied Isk and Jen as their jaws snapped down on the men too slow to evade them.  He was a beast ravishing a shepherdless flock.  The Halfen fell before him, helpless to defend themselves. He roared with the rage that fueled his incomprehensible speed, swinging his sword like a club, bashing and cutting.  Again and again.  His battle rage boiled over to an uncontrollable frenzy. The last guard fell.

It was over.

He wanted to howl.   The moon rose above the trees calling him to the hunt.  In the distance he heard a battle raging just as he fought one within himself.  He remembered who he was, but all thought and rationality fled.  He needed them to return before he lost himself.  He must not let the rage take over.  He rarely allowed himself to succumb to a full berserker frenzy. 
He had drawn on the strength of the bear numerous times without entering  full battle rage.  It was always safer to keep some control, but now he had surrendered to the vyr skin.  His new pelt was vastly more powerful, vastly more dangerous.  He must gain mastery again, remember himself.

He fought for control of his breathing and felt his pulse slow.  The heat from his anger began to cool.  He took deep breaths, tried to hold them, let the air out slowly.  He turned and saw Von watching him.

A group of women held to each other tightly.  Children clung to their skirts.  Joyful tears rolled down cheeks, tempered by looks of shocked fear.

More women began to emerge from the tents, wide eyed and hopeful.  They saw their captors lying in their gore and cried out in joy.  Many came to give Von and Soren thanks with hugs and kisses, but none who witnessed how it all had ended approached Soren.

Von appeared embarrassed and more than a little exhausted.  He walked slowly to Soren.

“Are you well?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Soren insisted.  “I am okay.”  He felt he was trying to convince himself, trying to make himself believe nothing had gone wrong.

“Are you sure?”  The concern in Von’s voice was impossible to mask.

“There is a reason why there are no longer berserkers in the north.”  Soren explained.  “Many lost themselves to the battle rage and others were persecuted out of fear.”  He tried to calm his breathing.  “A berserker must learn to draw on the strength of the bear without losing himself to the rage.”  He looked into Von’s eyes and saw understanding.  “The vyr is even more powerful, even harder to control.”

Von nodded. “Just be careful,” he said, “I need you.”

That was the most emotion Soren had ever seen Von display, other than his anger.

“Von,” Soren counseled.  “You must also be careful.  You carry an anger inside yourself as well.  A rage that rivals that of the berserker.  Do not let it rule you.”

Soren saw that anger flash across Von’s eyes and in an instant it was gone.

“I know,” Von admitted, his shoulders slumped under an invisible weight.  “I have this consuming hatred for the Horde.”  He paused, stared at the ground.  “And the Halfen have only helped their cause.  So has everyone else who refuses to fight along side us.  The treason is unforgivable.”

“Remember you have others to share this burden with you.”  He put a hand on Von’s shoulder.  “Your brother is alive to mete out justice as he sees fit.  You must help
him
.  Remember you have Baiden as well.”

Von smiled wryly.  “Don’t think I have forgotten about you, Kaiden and Yaris either.”

“I wouldn’t expect you too.”

“Sirs?” a quiet voice interrupted.

Soren turned and saw a pretty woman of middle years, her blond hair framing a thin face with blue eyes full of hope.  She looked up at Von and him.

“Sirs?” she asked.  “Are we safe?”

“You are safe,” Von assured her, “and free to return home.”

“Some of us no longer have homes,” said another woman with dark golden curls.  “We have no where to go.”

“You can go to Azmark if you like.”  Von sounded unsure of himself.  “I’m confident Lord Baiden will take care of you all,” he offered.

Soren could tell that wasn’t enough for most of these women.  Many of them had lost husbands and older children.   They were now widows, left to take care of their little ones on their own.  Some of the young girls must have lost their entire families.  Many looked terrified, frightened to be left alone in this forest.

“You have saved us and we owe you our debt,” the first woman said.   “But we still need your help.  The army of the Halfen is still near by.  If they come back this way...”  She tried to fight back tears and for the first time Soren noticed her torn dress.

“Baiden will deal with the Halfen,” Soren said.  He wished again he was there to help in the fight.  If the tide of battle began to go the wrong way he and Von might have been just enough to push it back, but then these women would still be in Halfen hands.  He could not be everywhere.  He should remember the advice he had just given Von.  There were other people to help him.  “We have done what we can for you.”

The woman tried to look strong, and she did when compared to the others behind her who appeared abandoned all over again.

Von took her gently by the hand.  “What is your name?”

“Gaila,” she answered timidly.

“Gaila,” he said softly, “my name is Beovon and this is Soren.”

Soren was surprised  Von used his full name.

“We will stay with you this night,” Von said.  “In the morning you can return home or travel to Azmark, or go wherever you like.”

It was better than nothing, but Soren could see she wanted more by the way she nodded.  Her eyes remained lowered, welling with tears.

Soren was not sure if he liked it.  They would definitely not be at Stone Abbey in time now.  He was about to protest then saw the look of sympathy in Von’s eyes and the look of gratitude in the eyes of the former captives.  Most of the children still clung to their mother’s skirts, but they could see they were safer now.

What Von said next surprised Soren even more.  He spoke loud enough for all to hear.

“We will not leave you until we know the threat from the Halfen army has been dealt with.”  He turned back to Gaila.  “Is that better?”

“Yes,” she said through watery eyes. “Thank you.”