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Authors: Keith McArdle

Tags: #Fiction, #Men's Adventure

The Forgotten Land (37 page)

BOOK: The Forgotten Land
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“Hold
to your God,” said Thrane, short of breath himself. “Hold on to his strength,
and keep your sword close, you may need it before long.”

“I
can do this!” Henry shouted.

The
spine chilling shrieks of the Badawarks could be heard clearly now. The cave
was within a hundred metres. Steve cursed that they had no ammunition left.
Hefting the pack into a more comfortable position he pushed on, controlling his
breathing and holding the hilt of the sword. He noticed the three other
Australians struggling in the same way. Scott almost tripped over his sword.

“Get
fucked!” he gasped.

Will
and Matt bellowed with laughter.

The
pack made the cave mouth and turned, panting, gasping and sweating to watch
their pursuers. The Badawarks were within half a kilometre now. Steve dropped
his pack and drew his sword.

“The
savages have slowed!” a Varangian called.

It
seemed the Badawarks had slowed to a walk now that they knew they could not
intercept the Varangians before they reached the cave. Olaf called a meeting,
which the Varangians called a Thing.

“It
is certain they will fall upon us during the night,” spoke Olaf. “We may bide
our time here and fight them from the cave, or we can fall upon them in their
camp.”

“We
are outnumbered. If we go out there, we may be overwhelmed and destroyed
entirely,” replied a Varangian.

“We
can make a better defence from here,” agreed Thrane. “Their numbers will be
limited by the width of the cave.”

“And
what if they lay siege to the cave? All it would take is a few days without
water, and we would be finished,” said one.

“We
agreed to accompany Ahmad,” said Olaf. “We agreed to protect him, and to
protect those who carry the crystal so they might find their way back home. If
the savages put us to siege then it will give the newcomers time to depart this
place, and that means our journey has been successful. When we run dry on
water, we put the fight to them, and if Odin wishes, we will defeat them,
otherwise we shall seat ourselves in the hall of heroes.”

“What
if the newcomers return home now?” asked one of the men. “Once they have left,
we can then slink away into the night and the savages would never know!”

“Coward!”
roared Olaf.

Steve
kept his mouth shut, because he had been tempted to ask the same question.

“We
shall stand and fight!” announced Olaf.

“I
am no coward!” Olsen yelled. “I merely wish to see this journey at an end! We
could be gone from here without the Badawark Savages even knowing!”

Thormdall
cut in.

“There
is one other thing to consider,” the Berserker said in a calm voice. “They will
expect us to await their attack. In this way we are giving them time to
organise and execute their plan at a time of their choosing. If we attack, it
will send them into disarray and panic, or at least that is the best we can
hope.”

“The
best we can hope is that we do not all end up maggot food,” called another
warrior from the back of the gathering.

“We
do not need to kill them all,” countered Thormdall. “We just need to kill
several, scatter some, sow some fear and force them to second guess their
confidence. They saw us today, running, panting. They were hunting us like
dogs, and I am sure that is how they think of us. We are wolves in dogs’
clothing and it is time to show them the error of their thinking.”

“What
say you?” asked Olaf.

At
least half the gathering nodded. There was some chuckling from the back where a
private joke was shared.

“Give
me a group,” said Thormdall turning to Olaf. “We will go with nothing but
skinning knives. We will wear no armour, nothing that will make obvious sound.
We cut their bastard throats and when enough of them are awake we cut and run.
They will pursue us, and when they do they will attack the cave at a time of
our choosing. Their blood will be up and all clear thoughts will have
evaporated. We may not kill them all, but if the gods walk with us then we have
the opportunity to deal the Badawarks heavy losses.”

“Very
well,” said Olaf after some thought. “I like the idea, but all who go with
Thormdall will be volunteers. And he will take no more than half our force. If
the plan goes awry then we in the cave can go forth and fight a rear guard
action to protect Thormdall’s withdrawal.”

Within
five minutes Thormdall had chosen his group, and it included Steve and his
soldiers. It was decided that Steve and his soldiers would move forward ahead of
the main group and scout the area. They would find the Badawark camp and
observe them before moving back and leading the main killing group to their
target.

After
several hours had passed the cave was silent, apart from men snoring, muttering
and chuckling softly. Steve gestured his men forward and they spread out
silently, moving slowly.

There
was a quarter moon, which threw enough light to see a short distance, but not
enough that they could keep a safe distance from the Badawark camp. Steve knew
they would be almost upon the enemy before they saw them.

The
soldiers moved slowly and silently. Steve stopped, clicking his tongue softly
to signal the others to do likewise. He could see a dark blob on the sand about
ten metres in front of him. Steve was kneeling now and was sure it was a
Badawark sentry lying on his side. Steve closed his eyes and could hear the man
snoring faintly.

Scott
moved beside Steve and glanced at him.

Steve
nodded. “Make it quick, and make it quiet, the main camp won’t be far from here.”

“Righto,”
Scott replied, unsheathing a small knife one of the Varangians had given him.

Before
anyone could react, Heleena moved away into the night to search for other
sentries.

Steve
held Will back silently, watching Scott move quietly forward. Seconds later he
heard a soft gurgling sound. Scott did not move before he was sure the Badawark
had bled out. In the time it had taken Scott to kill one sentry, Heleena had
returned. She reported there had been three others who had been posted out from
the main Badawark force. All but one was asleep. She killed them soundlessly.

The
small group moved past the corpse towards the main camp. The soldiers could not
quite see the Badawarks, but they could certainly hear them. Some were snoring,
others shifted in the sand seeking a better sleeping position. The soldiers
could also smell the acidic body odour emanating from the Badawark camp.

“Let’s
go get our friends,” said Steve and they quietly withdrew towards the cave.

The
 attacking  force  moved  quietly.  The  main
 Badawark encampment was still asleep as they approached. With knives in
hands the Varangians went forth to deliver their grim retribution. Steve had a
wickedly curved hunting knife that Thormdall had given him. The weapon was
razor sharp. He knelt over his first victim and sliced through his throat where
he thought the larynx should be and then knelt on the man’s chest as the
Badawark began struggled. As the struggles became weaker, Steve stood up and
moved on. His next victim was lying on his stomach, snoring loudly, his acrid
body odour forcing Steve to stifle a cough. Placing a foot on either side of
the man’s body, Steve leaned down over the victim and sliced through the back
of the Badawark’s neck. When he hit bone he sawed the knife back and forth
until he had cut through the spinal cord at the base of his skull. The man was
dead within seconds.

He
knelt over the next Badawark warrior. The man’s eyes flicked open and he came
up swinging, his fist cannoning into Steve’s left temple. Instinct took over as
Steve hammered his fist into the man’s face again and again until all movement
stopped. Then he cut the man’s throat and moved on.

The
Badawark camp was silent for almost five minutes as the Varangians moved
amongst them, killing as silently as wraiths. A piercing scream broke the
silence, rousing the remaining Badawarks.

The
Varangians, unarmoured and carrying only small knives, found themselves
fighting off fully armed Badawarks. They began to flee.

“Back!”
roared Thormdall. “Back!”

“To
us!” called Olaf, who was waiting with his men at the cave mouth. “To us!” The
fleeing Varangians followed the sound of his voice.

The
once silent night was now full of shouting, cursing and screaming. A small
group of Varangians were surrounded and slaughtered. Steve sprinted towards
Olaf’s voice, fear tearing into his heart as the war cries and shrieks of the
Badawarks began to close on them.

“To
us!” Olaf bellowed into the moonlit darkness.

“Run
hard!”

“Don’t
need to tell me twice,” Matt gasped.

Steve
grinned. The dark cave was in sight now and the entrance just visible in the
half moon light.

A
small group of Varangians dropped back, turning on the Badawark tide. They fell
amongst the chasing enemy with a ferocity that Odin would be proud of. They were
killed within seconds but took some Badawarks with them. Their sacrifice was
enough to give the fleeing force time to make the cave. Olaf’s warriors had now
established a shield wall across the cave mouth, and as the fleeing Varangians
approached the wall peeled back to let them through.

The
shield wall was remade quickly as the last man ran through.

“Odin!”
shouted Olaf as the Badawark charge approached.

“Odin!”
roared the Varangians in the shield wall, their reply echoing off the cave
walls in a deafening crescendo.

The
Badawarks hammered into the shield wall with ferocity, but their charge was
halted as sharp swords appeared from both above and below the shields. Blades
either pierced throats, hammered into faces and skulls, or cut deep into
Badawark calves or half-severed feet. Varangians standing in the second rank
clasped their great axes.

Heleena
was standing in the depths of the cave releasing arrows into the enemy mass
with precision. She had not collected even half a quiver of arrows from the longship
battle, but she was making each arrow count with incredible effect.

“I
see you!” roared Thormdall, pointing his sword at the distant Kadark , with his
arms folded across his dark robed body. “I shall end you,” he shouted.

Thormdall
charged forward in a wrath of bloody fury, his sword a blur of grey as he
struck out at the Badawark ranks. The Berserker battled his way through the
force like a knife through butter until he was standing toe to toe with the
Kadark. Pain shot through his skull again like a burning knife, but Thormdall
took a step forward until he was towering over the Kadark. Clamping a hand
around his enemy’s throat, his hand simply closed on empty cloth. The Kadark
laughed and Thormdall’s agony intensified until he was brought to his knees.
The Kadark withdrew and with it went Thormdall’s pain. The Berseker clambered
groggily to his feet staring at the distant Kadark.

“I
shall end you,” he vowed.

Turning
away with a snarl, Thormdall made his way to the cave. The Varangians peeled
back to make way for him.

The
shield wall stood fast, hammering swords upon shields and shouting insults and
challenges. Several warriors in the wall had fallen during the Badawark
assault, but they had been dragged from the fray and men standing behind had
moved forward to take their place.

Matt
was working furiously on wounded Varangians. Many of them were so badly wounded
that they bled out within a matter of minutes. He had, however, managed to
stabilise several of them.

After
a brief lull, the Badawarks charged again. They fought with ferocity, anger and
passion, which was enough to overcome enemies they were used to fighting. The
Varangians, they knew now, fought with equal anger and ferocity, but they also
fought with discipline. The cave meant it was impossible to overcome the
Varangians.

With
this knowledge the Badawarks fell back in dismay. The Badawark dead were kicked
and shoved from the cave mouth to make more room for the Varangians to move.
The Badawarks left in defeat, but the Varangians knew that would not be the
last they saw of them.

As
morning touched the Eastern sky, they saw a second Badawark force smeared the
horizon. This group was much larger than the first and closing on their
position fast. The next attack would be larger, more ferocious and far more
difficult to repel. With this sobering thought, the Varangians went forth to
bury their dead.

“You
should leave now. Our enemy will return, but now is the time for you to make
your move,” Thormdall told Steve. Thormdall’s face was covered in blood and
small chucks of flesh were scattered throughout his hair.

“We
can’t leave you in the lurch, mate,” said Steve.

The
other soldiers nodded.

“You
must realise that the next Badawark force will be far greater, and much more
difficult to defeat. If you and your warriors are killed, then our journey is
for nothing.” Thormdall handed Steve the necklace he wore. “This is Thor’s
symbol, it is myollneer, Thor’s hammer. Take it, and let it bring you luck in
times of darkness.”

BOOK: The Forgotten Land
4.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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