Chapter 178

Chapter 178: Servant of the Axe, 78 – The Jarl’s Rage

The bottom of a riverbed is no place to watch the sacking of a camp; I risked swimming to the surface. Even with my ears clogged by water, it was loud.

Not the combat, for there was little of that. The cries, the laments, the curses. The screams of the women and girls taken captive, already more than seven.

Oh, my. If there wasn’t already a rift between the ruling Norvik and the Itinar commoners, this was going to rip that fabric apart. This...

Oh.

This may have been the objective, all along. If there were a freedom seeking element among the herdsfolk, they would have provoked an attack like this. A brutal raid, destructive and ...

“There! That corpse, I want it!”

Was that... HER voice. I so wanted to turn my head...

.....

“Grandmother, it’s too far out in the river.”

Fine, say fine, I’ll get it myself...

“It’s just water, girl. Swim and fetch that.”

“Mother,” a man’s voice came, “there is no time! If they see us, they’ll kill us. Now is time to flee back to your cave, and roll the stone across the entrance.”

“I curse you, fates, to offer me this and take it away. May your own cruelty come back upon you. This is my curse, which I empower with...”

“Mom, let’s GO!”

“THIS is why I hate being with other people! So many useless entanglements, and you always end up losing because of other people’s idiocy and mistakes.”

Hrm. I would gladly have drowned the old woman, mocking her as water filled her lungs. I might have killed the son, supportive of her as he was.

Would I have killed the grand-daughter? No, I don’t think I could have brought myself to do that. I’m a monster, but I’m not that kind of monster.

I would have thought someone would have tried jumping into the river to escape the fire, but they were too busy slipping away into the woods. Some were caught, but over two in three got away.

With subtle motions, I waved myself toward the nearest bank of the river. And then, it was no longer time for subtlety, and I was coughing up water, proceeding upstream along the bank.

A booted foot slammed into my chest, forced me to the ground. It pressed downward on my chest.

“Foul creature! How are you alive, while Thorfyrd is dead?”

But fortune, that is when I coughed up half a lungful of water. Gasping for air followed.

The boot removed itself from my chest.

“Remain clear of my sight for several days.” Olaf Findseth warned, and waved his huscarl past me. “Those tents! They offend our jarl as well.”

I rolled onto my side and coughed. I controlled my breathing, slow deep breaths, even as the encampment caught fire behind me. There were a few tents on the far side, but another team was ransacking and burning those.

Okay, that was enough pretending to be helpless. I took myself back to the river and washed.

I made my way back to the jarl, wondering how long he would remain alive.

“You. Gather wood. We make a cairn for Thorfyrd here, set free his spirit here.”

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“That wood is green. It won’t burn as well.” I told the people working on chopping down the living tree.

Various curses and reasons and other stuff came back. Sorry, Thorfyrd. You deserved better. If it helps, I’m working to make sure all these jerks join you on your side of the afterlife.

The pyre took shape readily. The jarl’s younger brother pronounced one of the female children old enough, slit her throat, and laid her next to Thorfyrd. I am told the marriage they performed there was binding, and having not heard otherwise from the posthumously engaged, I kept my trap shut.

An axe was placed in his right hand, his wife’s into his other. Armor and shield were piled atop him and a helmet set on his head. And then, as the sun rose and I just wrote off the points of sanity and serenity for having missed a day of sleep, the funeral prayers were sung, and the pyre lit.

It stuttered on the green logs, but with enough time they also burned.

Ernhalt screamed first, pulling a hunting arrow from his buttocks. It was enough warning for the others to throw up shields, and for me to cover close enough to the pyre that Boil, Boil didn’t provide enough protection to absorb all the damage.

[Quest goal accomplished! Slay Olaf Findseth. Complete quest to receive quest points.]

The message repeated twice, and there were sounds of melee, even as a second volley of arrows found targets.

They were veterans, but the jarl and his men were... well, men. Even as arrows and crossbow bolts responded to the barrage of archery, the footmen of the clansfolk fell. Not without damaging the warriors, and they took Olvir and Knut with them.

“Everyone who can Flash Step, with me!” Victor called, “Marshal’s Flash Step!”

From beyond where I could see, there was screaming and hollering. The incoming arrow fire diminished significantly.

The jarl’s metal-gloved hand slammed onto my shoulder. “We will need a-frames to return with our dead and wounded. Get on that task.”

Even with the warriors helping when the battle was done, making the a-frames took a while. Nanfi was among the dead by the time we left, and his brother Osvald had passed out. We set out at a forced march, which is quite difficult while dragging a body.

We abandoned any supplies we could not carry. They and the wheelbarrow went into the flames. We left the fire blazing behind us. Weeping and crying women had their wrists lashed to belts or frames, and kept pace under threat of death should they falter.

Is it really just a threat after you see one of your fellows have her head split open?

Being shorter of leg and lower of Might, it wasn’t easy for me, either. I burned up both charges of Sprint, and considered buying a third between the forest and the great hall.

Honestly, it was the children who were the slowest among us. In the end, the women had them clamber onto their shoulders to save their lives.

Mine was the frame bearing Thorfyrd and his wife, partially burned away, but still mostly intact, arrows embedded in the both of them.

Once we were past the line of household huscarl, and only then, did the jarl raise both fists to the sky. “Enough of this. Even if it means swearing off the eating of meat, this cannot be born by mortal man. MY COUSIN IS DEAD; SUMMON EVERY WARRIOR IN THE VILLAGE. Though it take a week, we shall find and eliminate every. Single. Herdsman.”

“Woden Stormfather, hear my oath! Never again am I friend to the herdsfolk! Never again will I choose common blood over the noble blood of Norvik! Let this purge begin, and let all those who will not join us be known forever as enemies! By my life, Woden, I swear it!”

“Brother.” Said Victor.

“No! Look at your cousin. Look upon him, who was their fiercest proponent, loudest among their supporters. Look upon he who loved both commoner and Norvik equally. AND LOOK WHAT THEY HAVE DONE TO HIM! THIS! This is what they do to their supporters!” He swept aside the cloth covering his cousin. “This is what they do to their allies. What hope do the rest of us have? Summon the warriors, for we are again at war.”

During the preparations, I found Madonna by my side. “We got word through our Systems; is this your doing?”

“Theirs.” I said.

“Coward! How many of the deaths we need are you going to let others perform for you?”

“As many as they want. Have you or Kismet found Lady Igrun Sivert? If not, then we must needs move with caution. And, with the way things are going, we must move with speed as well.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because we are running out of other goals of this quest. I cannot help but feel that Igrun is in danger of being killed in captivity unless we free her.”

“Husband?”

“Hrm?”

She took my head into both of her hands, and then slid her nails underneath my scales. Then she clenched, painfully. “WE are in danger of being killed in captivity. Do you KNOW what these crazy Norvik women do rather than be taken prisoner when their men die?”

“Have faith.”

She spit into my face. “I will tell Kismet that you aren’t listening to me. Fine, go be a hero. But know that if it comes time to choose between us, I will live and she will die.”

“I never expected you would consider choosing otherwise.” I said.

“Ugh!” She released my head to wave her hands in frustration, “Like I said, you are not listening.”

“If the Jarl dies, we die. If the Jarl lives, we still may die.” I said. “Does that sum up your concerns?”

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She sighed. “And sometimes, just sometimes, you listen. I’ve repairs to make to gambeson; YOU keep mindful that we’re depending on you.”

“Okay.”

No pressure or anything.

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