The Long War 03 - The Red Prince (18 page)

‘The hinges get stuck in the cold,’ he said, showing a rare tact. ‘Let me.’

He put a huge hand against the door and flexed his shoulder, causing a sudden creak as the door inched open. The others approached and within moments both doors were flung open.

‘What is the meaning of this intrusion?’ shouted a voice from within.

Halla stood in the doorway, flanked by warriors and the axe-master of Fredericksand. She had to squint to see through the dark entrance to focus on those seated within and was gratified when she saw barely twenty men in the stone auditorium.

Moving slowly forward, her walking stick announcing her presence with a rhythmic thump, Halla kept her single eye on those within. They were mostly old men, white-bearded and barely awake, but a number of them stood and glared down at the intruders.

‘I am Halla Summer Wolf, lady of Tiergarten. I claim this assembly and these lands in the name of Teardrop and Summer Wolf.’

A moment of silence. Wulfrick stepped forward and the assembled lords of Jarvik exchanged looks.

A green-eyed man, seated in the centre of the stepped auditorium, had not stood up but seemed more alert than most of the lords. He was of advancing years and bore an old red tattoo over his left eye. He glanced either side of him, frowning at the man who had spoken first, and then nodded politely at Halla. ‘I am David, called Emerald Eyes, and I will speak for Jarvik,’ he said in a deep voice.

‘Silence, chain-master,’ roared the other man, who held two throwing-axes in indication that he was in charge of the assembly in the absence of a thain.

‘I am Thran Blood Fist,’ he shouted, ‘and I will speak for Jarvik. By what right do you step on Rowanoco’s Stone?’ He stood defiantly upright and hefted both his axes. ‘Speak!’

Wulfrick smiled at Halla. ‘My lady, would you like me to teach this man some manners?’

She returned the smile but waved away the offer.

‘Lord Blood Fist, you are an axe-master of Jarvik and I don’t wish to shut you up, but I’m not asking for an election. I’m taking your city. It belongs to the house of Ursa no longer.’

Blood Fist held his axes across his chest, but his eyes betrayed conflict. He was considering casting an axe, but was not sure this was worth dying for. He looked at Emerald Eyes, confirming that he would have little support, and then laid both his axes on the marble stone in front of him. ‘I will not shed blood on Rowanoco’s Stone, but I do not recognize your claim to the realm of Ursa. The battle-brothers of Jarvik will not stand for this treachery.’

Wulfrick snorted with derision. ‘You’re short on battle-brothers. We have more. It’s simple.’

‘Don’t be a fool, Thran,’ insisted David Emerald Eyes. ‘This was inevitable.’

‘I remain loyal to Ursa, even if you do not.’

Blood Fist stepped down from his raised seat and spread his arms wide to signal his submission. He stood face to face with Halla, sizing her up, though he kept glancing at the huge figure of Wulfrick.

‘I knew your father, girl. He’d be proud of what you’ve become. A traitor and a rebel.’

Halla’s men tightened their fists around their axes and Wulfrick growled. Just as she was about to retort to the insult, five men entered the assembly from behind the raised seating. They wore the red bear claw of Ursa and hefted glaives. From their chain-mail armour, Halla guessed they were the guards of Rowanoco’s Stone, though they appeared to hesitate at the sight of Halla’s men.

David Emerald Eyes stood and held up his hand . ‘Stand down, there is no fight here.’

Thran did not smile, but his eyes betrayed a new confidence.

‘Wulfrick,’ said Halla quietly, conveying meaning with a serious look.

‘Aye, my lady.’ He moved to stand before the five men of Ursa and held his great axe at the ready. ‘Do you know who I am?’ he asked.

They exchanged glances, but all shook their heads.

‘I am Wulfrick, axe-master of Fredericksand and servant of Teardrop. I have killed men and beast by the thousand and I stand here ready to kill you.’ He paused. ‘Do not give me a reason.’

The show of strength startled the battle-brothers, doubly so as no more of Halla’s men had advanced. The huge axe-master was confident he was more than a match for the five guards. Thran, who had heard of Algenon’s axe-master, now backed away from Halla and approached the raised seats.

‘For the sake of our men, our families and our city, I surrender to you, Lady Summer Wolf.’ He bowed his head in shame.

The man was not a fool and Halla breathed a sigh of relief.

‘You are wise, Lord Blood Fist,’ she said, with a respectful nod.

A whistling sound reached her ears as a signal arrow was fired from Falling Cloud’s position.

‘We have the ballistae and the walls, my lady,’ said one of her men.

‘Let’s hope young Rexel was met by equally wise men.’ Halla directed her words at Thran. ‘Your walls are ours.’ Another signal arrow from the centre of the town. ‘As is your chapel.’

‘I bet Oleff found a way to get his axe wet,’ joked Wulfrick. He held his great axe in one hand and pointed it at the armed battle-brothers of Ursa. ‘Drop. Your. Weapons.’

A word from behind told her that Heinrich, Lullaby and two dozen of her company were approaching the assembly as arranged. The reinforcements were not needed but she was glad of the extra support.

‘Do as they say,’ commanded Thran. ‘We will not throw our lives away.’

David Emerald Eyes allowed himself a thin smile, reflecting his allegiance to the city rather than to its Ursa rulers. He stepped down from the seating and bowed his head to Halla.

‘And now I will speak for Jarvik,’ he said, as battle-brothers flooded into the assembly and a tingle of pride travelled up Halla’s spine.

* * *

Halla was tired. She had risen early and her chest ached. The strength in her arms, tested by permanently leaning on her walking stick, was beginning to wane and as she walked along the southern battlements of Jarvik she desperately needed to sleep.

Wulfrick, Rexel Falling Cloud and David Emerald Eyes accompanied her. Her men had met little resistance. Aside from a small fight at the chapel of Rowanoco, the city was now theirs. Thran Blood Fist and a handful of others were being guarded in the assembly and those who wished to join Halla’s company were being organized by Oleff Hard Head. Several hundred men and women had greeted them with enthusiasm, shaking their hands and thanking them for deposing Rulag Ursa. This in itself assured Halla that she had done the right thing.

‘It’s a shame you can’t stay,’ said David, stopping at a ballistae turret. ‘This city needs some leadership.’

‘Jarvik was never our destination... just a necessary stop,’ replied Halla, struggling to keep her mind alert.

Falling Cloud pointed to a broken limb on the huge ballistae. ‘They fouled the artillery for some reason.’

‘Maybe they thought we were an invading army,’ quipped Wulfrick. ‘Halla, how long do we remain here? The Bear’s Mouth beckons.’

Emerald Eyes shook his head and frowned. ‘More death, my lady? You don’t need to leave. Keep Jarvik strong and fight Rulag here.’

‘And abandon Hammerfall?’ replied Halla, glancing at Falling Cloud. ‘We saw first-hand what Grammah Black Eyes was doing to the cloud-men.’

‘A lot of your people agree,’ said Wulfrick. ‘Our company gets larger and I have not had a proper battle since my thain was killed.’

Halla rubbed her eye to relieve her tiredness and tried to smile at David. ‘I’m sorry, but Fjorlan needs us to fight, not to wait. We take loyal men from Jarvik, we kill Grammah Black Eyes, we take loyal men from Hammerfall... and we fight Rulag at Tiergarten.’

Wulfrick smiled. ‘Where sits Alahan Teardrop.’

‘He lives?’ asked Emerald Eyes with incredulity.

‘He killed Kalag Ursa,’ replied the axe-master with pride. ‘Make no mistake, David, we are not beaten.’

Falling Cloud, who had the most invested in seeing Hammerfall freed, stood next to Halla and nodded. ‘If we can muster the cloud-men, we have an army. If we can get to Tiergarten, we have a thain.’

‘I understand,’ said David. ‘But I’m an old man and I want some peace.’

Halla laughed at this, causing the men to look at her in confusion. ‘Peace is hard won, it seems. You will have little, I’m afraid, if you are to be Jarvik’s lord.’

‘I’m a chain-master, not a thain.’

‘Would you prefer I invest Thran with the lordship of your city?’ Halla knew there were many logistical problems in leaving Jarvik, but she had no doubt that David was the right man to lead the city. ‘You don’t need to pledge your allegiance, just rule fairly.’

‘If you lose, my lady, Rulag will kill anyone here who didn’t fight you.’

David was a wise man and he made a good point. All she could think of to say was, ‘We won’t lose.’

He let a pained laugh escape his lips. ‘Confidence is admirable, but I have already done enough to be killed... should you lose.’

Wulfrick and Falling Cloud looked at him. ‘We won’t lose,’ they repeated.

Emerald Eyes shook his head and puffed out his cheeks, the expression of a tired old man who knows he can’t win. ‘Very well. I will trust in blind optimism.’

‘Trust in Rowanoco,’ replied Wulfrick. ‘The Ice Giant doesn’t want a troll cunt like Ursa ruling Fjorlan.’

‘Unfortunately, the Earth Shaker won’t be joining your army, master Wulfrick, so I fail to see how he can help. You have no priests.’

He was right. Halla’s company contained only an novice of the Order of the Hammer. To go into battle without a priest was considered not just a bad omen but presumptuous. Without the Order it was impossible to know whether Rowanoco approved their actions.

‘Old Father Brindon Crowe,’ said Halla after a second. ‘He sits in Tiergarten with the high thain. We will talk to him before we leave your city.’

David narrowed his eyes. ‘Our cloud-stone went missing some weeks ago.’

‘That’s because I stole it,’ replied Falling Cloud, with a mischievous smirk.

‘I hate to say it, David,’ began Wulfrick, ‘but the cloud-stone was the reason we came here. It was a bonus to snatch Jarvik from under Rulag’s nose.’

The chain-master shook his head again, this time slowly and with evident frustration. ‘So, we’re just a by-product? Has the crest of Jarvik fallen so far?’

Halla rubbed her eye and prevented Falling Cloud’s response. ‘David, this is not the time. Fjorlan is what matters, not Tiergarten, Fredericksand or Jarvik.’

The sound of running feet and Oleff Hard Head bounded up the nearby steps to join them on the battlements. He was out of breath and his axe was held firmly in his fist.

‘Easy, man,’ said Wulfrick. ‘You’re too old to be running around.’

Oleff panted and leant on his knees. ‘We have a problem, Halla.’

‘Another one?’ she replied.

‘Afraid so,’ he said between laboured breaths. ‘To the north, an enclave of Low Kasters who don’t like being told what to do.’

‘Ah, yes,’ said David. ‘I expected trouble from them.’

Halla and Wulfrick both glared at him, the axe-maiden wearily and the axe-master with frustration.

‘Why are men of the Low Kast in Jarvik?’ she asked.

David smiled thinly, perhaps realizing that he should have warned them. ‘Rulag used to say that they’re the best hunters and trackers in all of Ranen. And they have a way with trolls. He conspired to use them as his ranger corps. During the winters it’s rather hard to keep larders stocked and the trolls at bay. They have a knack for finding food and grain in any weather.’

‘How did he persuade them?’ asked Wulfrick. ‘The berserkers of Varorg are not easy to sway. As Oleff said, they don’t like being told what to do.’

‘He killed their chieftain and all of his family.’ It was said plainly. ‘The way I understand it, if a clan has no hereditary leadership, they pledge themselves to someone of strength.’

‘Rulag? He was the best they could find?’ queried Falling Cloud.

David shrugged. ‘They had just seen him massacre their leader and his entire family. That certainly says strength to me.’

‘Will this be a problem?’ asked Halla, barely mustering the energy to listen to the response.

‘I should expect so, yes,’ replied David. ‘They’re not loyal as such, but they respect strength. I suppose you need to show equal or greater strength... prove you’re more worthy than Rulag Ursa.’

‘How many of them?’ asked Wulfrick.

Emerald Eyes considered the question. ‘Hard to tell, they come and go as they please. I’d say that thirty or so actually make their homes in Jarvik. They bed down in an old cattle shed against the northern wall. The place stinks of troll piss, but it keeps them away from the rest of our people and stops them randomly butchering the populace.’

Halla knew little about the berserker clans of the Low Kast. They came from the wildest area of Fjorlan, a place not easily travelled. Despite this, the men of that land had a terrifying reputation and a highly honoured place among the faithful of Rowanoco. They called the Ice Giant by the name of Varorg, for reasons she was unclear about, and her father had told her a hundred stories about grotesquely deformed men frothing at the mouth and revelling in bloody combat.

‘We could just kill them,’ muttered Falling Cloud. ‘If they don’t behave, I mean.’

‘Sounds reasonable, if a bit aggressive,’ said Wulfrick. He turned to Oleff. ‘Did you speak to them?’

‘No, but they beat up a couple of our men who tried. They’ve barricaded themselves into the cattle shed.’ The chain-master panted a few times and caught his breath. ‘Some fellow called Rorg said he’ll only speak to our leader.’

Halla and Wulfrick looked at David.

‘Rorg?’ she asked.

‘I know the man,’ he replied. ‘He’s called the Defiler. You probably don’t want to know why.’

Halla leant heavily on her walking stick. Her chest hurt, her leg ached and her body felt as if it needed a few days’ sleep.

Breathing heavily, she heard Wulfrick and David arguing about the berserkers. Their raised voices were distant and the words flowed into a muddle of sounds. The axe-maiden would never admit that she needed rest – the previous few weeks while she was fighting off the Gorlan venom had been enough – but Halla, strong as she was, needed to sleep.