BTtNR - Book 3 - Chapter 038

The tunnel on the far side of the chamber descended at a steep angle. Stefi led the way, her crystal casting dancing shadows across the rough stone walls. Behind her, Einar kept his axes ready, every sense heightened as they moved deeper into goblin territory.

The smell grew worse with each step. The rot and waste that Bartia had mentioned became overpowering, making several Vikings gag. Einar breathed through his mouth, trying to filter out the worst of it, but the taste was almost as bad as the smell.

"How do they live in this?" Osvif muttered, his voice muffled by the cloth he'd tied across his face.

"They prefer it," Bartia replied from further back in the line. "The worse it smells to us, the more comfortable they feel."

The tunnel twisted and turned, branching off in multiple directions. Stefi never hesitated, her knowledge of these shafts evident in how confidently she navigated. At each intersection they passed, more tracks and signs of goblin presence were visible.

After twenty minutes of descent, the tunnel opened into another chamber. This one was larger than the first, easily a hundred feet across. But unlike the natural cavern before, this space showed evidence of goblin habitation.

Crude structures made from bones and scavenged metal leaned against the walls. Scraps of what might have once been clothing or leather hung from makeshift racks. And everywhere, covering almost every surface, were more bones.

"They've been here a while," Yulgas said quietly, his blue eyes scanning the chamber. "This isn't a temporary nest. This is a colony."

Stefi held up her hand, and the group stopped. The eight-foot-tall dwarf knelt, studying something on the ground. When she looked up, her expression was grim.

"The tracks split here. Some go left toward the ore vein. Others go straight ahead, deeper into their nest."

"How many total?" Einar asked, moving to crouch beside her.

"More than fifty," Stefi replied. "Maybe as many as a hundred. And these..." She pointed to a set of tracks that were larger than the others, each claw mark deeper in the stone. "These are from something bigger. A leader, maybe. Or a war boss."

That's bad. Very bad.

Thorodd moved up beside Einar. "We could split up. Half go for the ore, half clear the nest."

"No," Einar said immediately. "We stay together. Splitting up is exactly what they want us to do."

"So what's the plan?" Avitue asked, her hand resting on her sword's hilt.

Einar studied the chamber, his mind working through options. They needed the ore, but leaving a goblin nest at their backs was suicide. On the other hand, fighting through a hundred goblins in their own territory would cost lives.

"We secure the ore vein first," Einar decided. "Get the miners working. Set up a defensive perimeter. Then we deal with the nest."

"That'll take hours," Yulgas said. "The goblins won't just sit and wait."

"No, they won't," Einar agreed. "Which is why we're going to give them something to think about first."

He turned to Skardi. "Take five warriors. Make noise. Make them think we're a larger force than we are. Draw them toward the ore vein, but don't engage unless you have to. Lead them into our defensive position."

Skardi grinned, his massive frame seeming to swell with anticipation. "Finally, something fun."

"Don't die," Einar added. "Dying would ruin the fun."

"I'll do my best," the giant Viking replied.

As Skardi selected his warriors and moved toward the deeper tunnel, Einar turned to the rest. "Everyone else, we move fast to the ore vein. Yulgas, how long to mine three carts' worth?"

"If we work non-stop? Four hours. Maybe five."

"Then we'd better make sure those are the quietest five hours of our lives," Einar stated.

They moved left, following Stefi through a tunnel that gradually widened. The pick marks on the walls became more numerous here, showing where dwarves had worked the stone centuries ago. Veins of ore glinted in the crystal's light, thin threads of metal running through the rock.

"We're close," Yulgas said, his voice carrying a note of excitement despite the danger.

The tunnel opened into a massive chamber. Unlike the others, this one had been deliberately carved, with the ceiling reinforced by stone pillars. Old mining equipment lay scattered around—carts with broken wheels, picks with shattered handles, coils of rope that had rotted with age.

And along the far wall, visible even in the dim light, was the ore vein. It ran from floor to ceiling, a thick band of dark metal that pulsed with a faint inner glow. Einar had never seen anything like it.

"By the gods," Thorodd breathed. "That's..."

"Dwarven steel," Yulgas finished, his voice almost reverent. "In its rawest form. That vein alone could make weapons for a hundred warriors."

Bartia was already moving toward it, her hammer in hand. "We need to set up the work area. Clear the debris, get the carts positioned."

"Do it," Einar commanded. "Thorodd, set up defensive positions at every entrance to this chamber. I count three tunnels. Block two, defend the third."

"Which one stays open?" Thorodd asked.

"The one Skardi's going to lead the goblins through."

His second-in-command grinned. "You're using him as bait."

"I'm using him as a lure," Einar corrected. "There's a difference."

As his warriors moved to their positions, Einar studied the chamber. It was defensible, but barely. The tunnels were wide enough that goblins could pour through multiple at once. The ceiling was high enough that they couldn't easily prevent climbing attacks. And the scattered equipment provided cover for enemies as much as for his people.

This is going to get messy.

Vidar approached, his expression concerned. "My section is ready, but Einar... if they come from multiple directions at once..."

"Then we fight from multiple directions at once," Einar replied. "That's why I positioned your warriors in the center. You're our reserve. Wherever the line breaks, you plug it."

The pack leader nodded and moved back to his warriors.

Einar walked to where Yulgas and three other dwarves were beginning to work the ore vein. The sound of picks striking stone echoed through the chamber, each strike ringing like a bell.

"How loud is this going to be?" Einar asked.

Yulgas paused mid-swing. "Loud enough that every goblin in these tunnels will know we're here."

"Then we'd better be ready for company."

A whistle echoed from one of the tunnels. Einar recognized it as Skardi's signal. The giant had made contact.

"Positions!" Einar shouted. "They're coming!"

Vikings rushed to their assigned spots. Shields locked together. Weapons came up. The miners kept working, their picks never slowing despite the approaching danger.

The sound came first. Screeching, high-pitched and grating, echoing through the tunnels. Then the skittering of claws on stone, dozens of them, moving fast.

Einar moved to the main tunnel entrance, the one they'd left unblocked. Thorodd stood beside him, his massive frame a wall of muscle and armor.

"Here they come," Thorodd said calmly.

The darkness in the tunnel seemed to writhe. Then shapes began to emerge. Small, twisted forms that moved with unnatural speed came toward them. Goblins poured into the chamber, their yellow eyes glowing in the dim light.

They were smaller than Einar had expected, perhaps four feet tall, but what they lacked in size, they made up for in numbers. Dozens spilled through the tunnel entrance, their clawed hands gripping crude weapons—jagged daggers, broken swords, clubs studded with nails.

Behind them came Skardi and his warriors, running at full speed. The giant Viking's laugh echoed over the goblin screeches.

"Thought you might want some company!" Skardi bellowed as he and his group burst past the first line of goblins that were running toward the sound of mining.

The goblins followed, their attention now locked on the fleeing Vikings. They never saw the trap until it was too late.

"Now!" Einar roared.

The shield wall at the tunnel entrance shifted, opening gaps just wide enough for spears to thrust through. Vikings struck with practiced precision, their weapons finding goblin flesh. The creatures screamed and died, but more kept coming, trampling their own dead in their eagerness to reach their prey.

Einar stepped forward, his axes already moving. The first goblin that reached him died before it could raise its weapon, his blade taking its head cleanly. The second lasted only marginally longer, his other axe crushing its skull with a single blow.

But there were too many.

For every goblin that fell, two more took its place. They climbed over their dead, using the bodies as stepping stones to reach higher. Some tried to scale the walls, their claws finding purchase in tiny cracks.

"Ceiling!" someone shouted.

Einar looked up. Goblins were dropping from above, having climbed along the tunnel ceiling to bypass the shield wall. They fell among the Vikings, their daggers finding gaps in armor.

A warrior screamed as a goblin landed on his back, its blade driving down toward his neck. Avitue was there in an instant, her sword taking the creature's arm off before it could strike.

The chamber descended into chaos.

Goblins seemed to be everywhere. The defensive positions held, but barely. Vikings fought in tight groups, covering each other as the creatures swarmed from multiple directions.

Einar moved through the battle, his axes never stopping. Fire erupted along the blades as he channeled wyrd into them, the flames making the goblins shriek and recoil. Beside him, Thorodd was a force of nature, his hammer crushing skulls with each swing.

A goblin larger than the others emerged from the tunnel. This one stood nearly six feet tall, its body covered in scars. It carried a weapon that had clearly been taken from a dwarf—a war hammer that glowed with runic power.

The goblin war boss.

It locked eyes with Einar across the chamber. Then it roared, a sound that made the other goblins redouble their attacks.

"That one's mine!" Einar shouted, pointing at the war boss.

He pushed through the horde of bodies, cutting down goblins as he moved. The war boss waited for him, its lips pulling back to reveal rows of needle-sharp teeth.

They met in the center of the chamber, weapons clashing with a sound like thunder. The war boss was stronger than it had any right to be. Each blow from its hammer sent shockwaves up Einar's arms.

They circled each other, trading strikes. The war boss was fast, faster than the stone trolls they'd fought before. It used its smaller size as an advantage, ducking under Einar's swings and striking at his legs.

One blow got through, catching Einar's thigh. Pain exploded through his leg, and he stumbled. The war boss saw its opening and lunged.

Einar dropped low, letting the hammer pass over his head. As the war boss committed to its attack, he drove both axes up, catching the creature under its ribcage.

The war boss staggered back, black blood pouring from the wounds. But it wasn't done. With a snarl, it swung its hammer in a wide arc, forcing Einar to jump back.

They're tougher than they look.

The war boss charged, its hammer raised high. Einar waited, timing his move. At the last instant, he sidestepped, letting the hammer crash into the stone floor. While the war boss was off-balance, Einar struck.

His first axe took the creature's weapon arm at the elbow. His second took its head.

The war boss fell, and with it, the fighting spirit of the remaining goblins broke. The creatures that had been pressing forward suddenly turned and fled, scrambling back into the tunnels.

"Let them go!" Einar commanded as some Vikings moved to pursue. "Stay in position!"

The chamber fell silent except for the heavy breathing of warriors and the steady ring of picks against stone as the miners continued their work.

Einar looked around. They'd held. The defensive positions were battered but intact. He could see several warriors being tended by healers, their wounds ranging from minor cuts to serious gashes.

"Casualties?" he asked.

"Two dead," Thorodd reported, his voice grim. "Five seriously wounded. Another dozen with minor injuries."

Not bad, considering. But not good either.

"Get the dead ready for transport back," Einar said. "We'll revive them once we're out of here. Healers, do what you can for the wounded. Everyone else, reinforce the barricades. They'll be back."

Yulgas approached, his face streaked with dust and sweat. "We've barely started on the ore. This is going to take hours."

"Then we hold for hours," Einar replied simply.

He looked at the tunnel where the goblins had fled. Somewhere in that darkness, they were regrouping. Planning their next attack. And when they came again, they'd be ready for the Vikings' tactics.

This is far from over.

Einar moved to the ore vein, watching the dwarves work. Each strike of their picks sent sparks flying, and slowly, chunks of raw ore began to pile at their feet.

They had come for metal. They had come to prove Vikings could adapt and overcome.

Now they just had to survive long enough to finish the job.

He tightened his grip on his axes and turned back toward the tunnel entrance.

Whatever came next, they'd be ready.