BTtNR - Book 3 - Chapter 014

Einar felt a different kind of power flowing through him as his wyrd burnt with a purpose.  

In all his life love had been such a hard thing to be open to, knowing the dangers of how one would feel if the ones he cared about got hurt.  Now, seeing Avitue standing there, blood on one of her arms flung out in a spray as her spear whipped around to catch one of the krakus that had attacked her friend drove him to help her. 

Everything Bartia had told him about how a frenzy worked had him concerned for her in a way that was different from his concern for Osvif or any of his warriors.  

Like a bolt of lightning, his feet moved faster, stronger, each step propelling him across the packed road past his fellow Vikings.  

A single glance from those beautiful green eyes met his as he ran toward her. The slightest smile showed as she shouted out to her warriors.

Lines of fire began to spread from his axeheads, each one no thicker than an inch, yet they burned with a blue blaze, extending further from his body as he moved.  Soon each weapon had a flaming whip extending from it over ten feet, and as the last yards vanished between him and the beasts, both arms moved.

Two flaming whips lunged out, each one wrapping around the neck of an unsuspecting krakus, bringing a pained squeal from its throat before the very air was cut off, fire burning through its flesh.

[ Rune Experience Gained ]

[ Rune Experience Gained ]

As Einar dispatched two of the beasts, Avitue and the other women didn’t waste time. They took down the remaining pair, working as a unit that had trained together for a long time. Their spears struck home, ending the lives of the creatures before they could react to the sudden shift in battle.

“Thove?!”

“Hurt, I’ll get her to the wagons… Einar… you did it!”

Avitue’s expression was pure joy to behold. The smile on her lips outshone the stands of red hair matted against her forehead and the grime and carnage splattered against her face.

He nodded and pointed at the carts.

“Take care of her. I need to go.”

Both women with Avitue immediately began working on securing and bandaging Thorve as Einar looked at what was happening around him.

Ragna was sending out small bolts of blue fire, each one sizzling as it flew through the air at the krakus to the south.

With that side slightly covered, the rune caster helping the Vikings trying to retreat to the wagons, he turned and ran toward Thorodd and the others.

That bastard is showing off… I can’t –

Einar stopped his complaining, sensing a shift in his wyrd as his mind wandered to how the older man could control the fire as a ranged attack.

Shifting his mind back to protecting Avitue and his men, he felt the flame temper again and ran toward the conflict before him.

Ospak was down, his bald head looking like it was barely hanging on to his body as a rat tried to drag away its prize.

Hogni was attempting to close the gap with Bodalf but the two were unable to press through the three krakus blocking their way.

Even Skardi struggled against the pressing horde. His left leg looked injured as the giant staggered backward after swinging and blocking with the axe he hefted.

In just moments, the battle had shifted from looking possible and now the truth of what they faced was evident.  They were about to be overrun by creatures with claws and teeth that separated flesh with ease.

A loud shout came from his right and Einar saw Bartia’s hammer popping a creature caught between it and the ground like a pimple.  One had lunged onto her back and the dwarven warrior didn’t flinch as claws found purchase in her chain armor.

Without missing a beat, she reached backward, grabbing the neck of her attacker as she twisted, her hammer swinging in a circle toward another krakus that was running at her.

Like a mother lifting a child, her hand wrenched the passenger on her back off and was launched through the air at another of its kind.

Seeing that she was holding her own, Einar moved into the thick of things with his friends, his flaming blue whips lashing out and slicing through fur, flesh, and bone like a meat cleaver.

Each attack followed a thread that felt thicker than rope. His body twisted, his hips moved, and each step carried him deeper into the fray.

More notifications of kills and experiences flew by, but he didn’t have time to pay attention to them.

Two krakus pulled away from his allies, charging him, a red glow in their eyes as they bounded at him.

Neither made it within five feet as his tendrils of summoned wyrd split them like an axe through would, carving their heads in half and sending their dead bodies into a tumble.

“Collect Ospak! Help the others!” Einar shouted as he assisted Bodalf with a pair of rats.

The fun-loving Viking simply nodded. Gone was his smile, which he often wore; instead, both of his black eyes were transfixed upon the weapons that his leader had present.

“Go!”
Shaking from his stupor, Bodalf moved, joining Hogni as they worked together to put down one more krakus and then set upon the one trying to lay claim to their brethren.

“Thorodd! Retreat!”

The giant brown-haired Viking spun, his entire front side covered in gore.

“What in the gods?”

“GO!” Einar shouted as his whips cut down another pair that were closing in.

“To the carts! Help your brother!” the second in command called out, moving to join Skardi.

As they pulled back, more and more rats descended upon Einar, who was now left alone as he covered their escape.

Bodies began to pile up as the rats encircled him, all trying to find a direction to attack from while dodging the flaming death that came from his weapons.

His body was tired. His wyrd was running low, and a few cuts bled, created from attacks that had managed to land against his leg and back.

Einar could see the pressing horde, the ten-plus krakus that had him cut off from the wagons and the others that were preparing to defend against the horde that was 

I don’t have a choice.

[ Blessed Healing ]

By the time he took a new breath, everything began to feel better. The sensation of energy and strength washed through him as the aches and pains disappeared. Even his wyrd felt like it could hold on, not wavering as it had.

Grinning, he raced toward the horde of krakus that blocked his path towards his friends.

Threads ran from his weapons to each creature and a dance began where he twisted and moved, arms flinging forward, fiery whips snapping out and searing through bones and flesh when it connected.

Noise was all around him and yet it was like Einar was in a peaceful place.

Death came to each creature foolish enough to attack. Their leap became a sentence they couldn’t escape as his new tool to fight with met the beast mid-air, ending its life in a moment.

Every step he took brought him closer to the carts, and each stride was another krakus that wouldn’t disappear into the trees.

He could see the fire bolt coming from Osvif's land nearby. It did not do as much damage as Ragna or his spells did, but it was enough to cause the creature it struck to suffer, unable to move or dodge his attack when he drew near.

The beasts' cacophony of cries was a song of praise to the gods above. Each sound was punctuated with the knowledge that there would be growth, the constant flow of experience into Odin's runes, which Odin had designed for all Vikings.

One notification caught his eye and the way his body moved faster and struck harder told him what had happened.

[ Rune Leveled Increased ]

Laughing like a maniac the leader of this pack, let his voice carry out across the ground.

Above the din of battle, he couldn’t help but feel unstoppable.  

Nothing here was a threat at this moment. Each beast was simply a stepping stone to becoming stronger and, hopefully, becoming what Odin had wanted him to be.

I shall become the Einherjar!

Fueled by that idea, Einar turned away from the carts, wading back into the mass of black bodies with claws and teeth, picking off the creatures that had decided to feast upon the corpse of their fallen kind.

Time went on and for a moment, there was nothing but the sounds of his laughter.

Einar was doing what he had been chosen to do.

***

“Hold still, you fool! Thorve was right!”

Wincing, Einar nodded as Kojala’s runes glowed and she finished healing him enough that he wouldn’t bleed out.

“How is she doing?”

“She will live… and she is a fool… just like you,” groaned the older woman. Her brown eyes were almost hidden by how fiercely she was scrunching her face.  The white hair that was in a topknot fell over her bent head. “She is out there healing those who need it… not caring how much it will hurt tomorrow or the day after. Yet… she is alive because of your wife and those women. Thorve would have died had those brave warriors not stopped in to kill the ones that had attacked her.”

“That’s why I tell you never to leave the carts,” Einar replied as he studied the wound the woman had just healed on his thigh.  New, pink flesh showed the gash he had gained by an all assault of the krakus.  His ability had run out, and when it did, his wyrd bottomed out.

That moment had been close. Most of the beasts had been dead, but the few that had remained sensed the change and came at one.  

Inspecting his shoulder, the new flesh that ran from his shoulder to his elbow on his right side left no doubt how close that fight had been.

“Do not be stupid. Rest. I need to go help the others,” Kojala said as she stood up and groaned, stretching her back.

After she left, Einar moved to the bench where over a dozen other Vikings sat, each of them drinking and eating after being healed.

Next to them was Bartia who ripped off a chunk of jerky from the piece she held in her hand, giving him a peculiar stare.

“Einar!”

The sound of his name being chanted twice filled the carts, and he nodded at Jepi who looked like the Viking had been ridden hard and hung out wet.

“How are your men?”

“Six warriors, counting myself, are alive thanks to you. I… I didn’t know how dangerous keeping that meat would be.  They set upon us like–”

“It’s okay,” Einar said as he sat beside the pack leader. “I had Bartia to keep me alive from that mistake.  I’m just glad at least you and two wagons survived.”

The broad-shouldered warrior nodded, his red hair braids bouncing with each move of his head.

“We are grateful for that… I lost some of my servants as well… And the horses… they died so fast but provided us the time we needed to escape.”

“There was a time that I had to make the same decision,” he replied. “Never an easy choice.  Still, the fact you managed to keep going for as long as you did is a testament to your leadership skill.”

Einar saw the older warrior’s face lighten slightly, the weight of leadership easy to see upon his heavy expression.

“I am grateful, though, that you waited for us. Had you been much further ahead, I have no doubt we’d not have made it at all.”

“Don’t think me yet,” Einar replied, pointing at Bartia, who was still frowning. “Apparently, we’ll have to make it one more night and she doesn’t feel it’s going to be an easy one.”

Every Viking at the table turned to look at the dwarf, who started scowling.

“Bah, if I wanted this many men to look at me, I’d be taking my pants off. Sleep while you can. Tonight may be worse than today.”

A few men groaned but said nothing as Bartia stood and moved away from the table.

“Is she serious?” Vidar asked quietly.

“She hasn’t told a joke yet, so most likely, we’re in for a night as well.  Get your warriors to sleep.  Avitue and her shield maidens are already resting as they offered to take first watch.”

“Bah! I should have thought of that!” exclaimed Jepi. “Blame it on my lack of sleep.”

“Don’t worry, there will be plenty of time to sleep when you're dead,” Einar replied, patting the warrior’s shoulder as he stood up. “Now then, I’m going to go check on a few more things. Joys of being in charge.”