The Long War 01 - The Black Guard (52 page)

‘The
Sea Wolf
is overburdened and cannot move swiftly, therefore we must ready ourselves for further attack,’ she said to the assembled axe-masters. No one mentioned the Krakens, but all knew they were what she was referring to.

‘What of the betrayer?’ asked Rexel angrily.

‘Time to hunt down Rulag Ursa is a luxury we do not have, Falling Cloud. His day will come. For now we must focus on keeping ourselves and our men alive.’

Halla was trying not to think too deeply, but to let her instinct come to the fore. She knew what to do, but had always been afraid of doing it for fear of appearing inadequate. However, as she looked into the thick fog around her ship and saw no sign of land or of other ships, she knew that someone had to take charge, and Wulfrick was still silently praying over Algenon’s body. Borrin was dead and could no longer lend his voice to her instructions, leaving her alone and in command.

‘Those benches are overcrowded. No more than four men to an oar. See to it at once,’ she said to a minor axe-master, who instantly moved to carry out her orders.

‘You,’ she pointed to a man of the Deep Cross, ‘set a fast stroke at the fore, enough to get us moving quickly.’

‘Rexel, make a check of weapons and armour… and move the injured aft.’

‘At once, my lady,’ Falling Cloud replied formally.

Halla was glad of his assistance as it encouraged the lesser axe-masters to comply with her orders with equal alacrity, and within a few minutes some semblance of order was restored. Halla didn’t want to admit that orders and activity were ways to distract the men from thoughts of the horn of the deep and the blind, mindless Krakens of the Fjorlan Sea.

As the
Sea Wolf
began to pick up speed and to move in the direction of Kalall’s Deep, Halla turned her attention back to Wulfrick. The axe-master of Fredericksand was sitting next to his lord’s body with a look of despair on his face. Halla offered him her hand.

‘Would you like assistance in standing up, Master Wulfrick?’ she asked.

He slowly cast his eyes upwards to glare at her. ‘I can stand,’ he said softly, pulling himself up, leaning on his huge axe. ‘You seem to have found your balls, young Halla.’ There was little humour in his words, however.

‘Should I be insulted at your comparing me to a man?’ she asked, with a similar absence of humour.

‘Don’t take it personally. You’ve done well.’ Wulfrick nodded with tacit approval, composing himself. ‘How far from land would you say we are?’

‘That’s not the important question, Wulfrick. The important question is how far from a
landing
are we… we saw cliffs on either side as we came into the channel. There was no low ground or beach that I could see.’

Before Wulfrick could say anything more a sound was heard from behind the
Sea Wolf
. It started as a low rumble, accompanied by rushing water, and began to rise in pitch to something akin to a throaty whine, echoing through the fog. The sailors paused in their rowing, and the sound felt louder without the noise of oars breaking the water.

‘Who told you to stop fucking rowing?’ roared Wulfrick, instantly making every man resume his duty.

The sound of displaced water continued from behind the
Sea Wolf
and Halla peered into the fog looking for signs of pursuit. She gasped as a shape darted across her field of vision, appearing and disappearing within a second, the fog rendering the movement indistinct. Then came another sound, deeper and more resounding – it seemed to be coming from all around the ship and the huddled men of Ranen looked close to panic as Falling Cloud ran among them, slapping backs and urging them to continue rowing. Halla felt her breathing quicken as she stared into the fog behind the vessel. A roar sounded from somewhere, a terrifying sound that no human mouth could make, growing from a grumbling murmur to a primal sound of anger.

Wulfrick had a look of stern defiance on his face as he came to stand next to Halla. ‘Rowanoco save us,’ he said, as both of them saw a huge shape rear up into the fog behind them.

The shape was taller by half than the mast of the ship and wider than the banks of oars. Halla was thankful for the obscuring fog, but the sound penetrated deeply into the minds of all the Ranen – a sound that none could ignore and none would forget. It was a growl, as if a beast had been awoken from its slumber, and it continued to grow louder and louder until a single greenish tentacle, the size of a broad tree trunk, swung sharply downwards, smashing into the rear of the
Sea Wolf
, feet from where Halla and Wulfrick were standing.

Shouts erupted from the oarsmen. Wulfrick continued to mouth prayers to Rowanoco as he pulled Halla against the railing and away from the splintered deck where the Kraken had struck.

‘Row for all you’re worth, you troll-fuckers… row for Fjorlan… for Ranen and for Algenon…’ Wulfrick was wide-eyed, but he was thinking clearly.

They both leant over the rear of the
Sea Wolf
to look at the immense black shape undulating and writhing within the dense fog.

Then a momentary break in the mist gave them a glimpse of the creature. All at once and whole they saw the Kraken that pursued them. It was larger than any ship and rose, as a column of flesh, up from the ocean to move quickly forwards by an unseen means of locomotion. It appeared, to Halla’s eyes, to have only a vague physical form and to comprise a pulpy mass of greenish-black ooze, with gummy, toothless mouths and sickly green tentacles appearing and disappearing within its gelatinous body. The oarsmen, all of whom were looking back, screamed in abject horror as the Kraken roared. Several men lost their senses upon seeing the beast and dived overboard to their deaths in the freezing water. Several more clasped their hands to their heads and screamed as if the beast had entered their minds.

Halla turned away and pulled Wulfrick down after her. They sat, their backs to the railing, looking at two hundred Ranen sailors with madness in their eyes.

‘Don’t look at it,’ shouted Wulfrick, but his words were largely useless as the men were unable to tear their eyes from the horror that pursued them.

Falling Cloud was standing in the middle of the deck, following the erratic movements of the Kraken until the fog once more began to engulf the creature. Whether it was Ithqas or Aqas, Halla didn’t know, but whichever of the blind, mindless Krakens chased them, it was far removed from the stories she’d been told as a child. There was nothing exciting or awe-inspiring about the beast, only primal terror.

Then another sound arose from in front of the ship and two huge tentacles, dripping with black slime, slammed on to the deck and sent a dozen or more Ranen into the water. The second Kraken was in front of them and the
Sea Wolf
was swiftly moving towards its destruction between the two mindless beasts. The ship was holed and water began to shoot up in a plume from the middle of the deck.

Halla held tightly on to Wulfrick and they looked deep into each other’s eyes as the ship began to list and the sound of splintered wood signalled that the
Sea Wolf
was stricken.

She was glad the fog hid the approach of the Krakens as Wulfrick roughly grabbed her and jumped overboard, holding her in his arms. She felt the icy water fill her mouth and pull the breath from her lungs before she blacked out.

* * *

Halla awoke slowly. Her single eye opened by degrees and she saw a bright, glaring sky. She was numb with cold and could feel nothing below her neck as she blinked quickly and turned her head. She lay on a rocky beach with snow and driftwood all around her, her legs resting within the slowly rolling wash of the sea. It must have been freezing cold but she could barely feel it, and her breathing was shallow and caused a grating sensation in her throat. Halla could hear moaning and the sounds of discomfort coming from nearby. On both sides of her were other survivors of the dragon fleet, washed up on a rugged coast somewhere in the south lands of Ranen.

There was no longer any fog and she could see across the low, featureless expanse of the ocean, where there was no landmark in view. She began to move slowly, first her fingers and then her hands, gradually flexing her arms to relieve the stiffness. She reached to her hip and was gratified to feel that her axe was still at her side. With enormous effort she placed both hands on the rocky ground and pushed herself up into a seated position.

A fresh breeze hit her face and she closed her eye and breathed in deeply before opening it and looking around. The rocky coast stretched as far as she could see in both directions, and along the length of the beach lay smashed wood and broken bodies. Axe-heads, ripped chain mail, planks of wood with splintered edges and, near to where Halla lay, she could see the huge figure of Wulfrick lying spreadeagled across the rocks, still adorned in his smelly troll-hide armour. Just past the motionless axe-master of Fredericksand, Halla could see several battle-brothers of Tiergarten, her men from the destroyed
Sea Wolf
. Some were moving, but most were mangled into grotesque shapes and clearly dead. More worrying were those who were alive but who sat staring blankly out to sea with deranged and bloodshot eyes. The sight of the blind, mindless Krakens had robbed many of her men of their sanity, and Halla was thankful that she at least felt clear-headed.

Falling Cloud was sitting upright several feet away, with his head in his hands. He was shivering violently and looked to have a large wooden splinter stuck through his shin. The man was unaware of the wound and Halla hoped his mind had been strong enough to weather the sight of the Krakens.

‘Rexel Falling Cloud, axe-master of Hammerfall,’ she called out, spitting out salt water as she did so.

He looked up hesitantly, and Halla saw tears frozen on his cheeks and his eyes reddened and half closed. He rubbed his face and turned to the axe-maiden.

‘My… lady,’ he responded with weariness. ‘I am alive. I am alive.’

‘Yes, you are alive, and I need your help,’ she said loudly, before pointing weakly to his wound. ‘That needs seeing to.’

Falling Cloud looked down and registered the wound for the first time. ‘Yes, though it doesn’t hurt,’ he said. ‘The water is cold, but it has stopped the bleeding.’ His eyes had a faraway look, but Halla was glad to see he could still think clearly.

‘We need to see who is alive and who is dead, and where in the name of Rowanoco we’ve ended up.’ She craned her neck round to look inland.

The coastline was rocky for a way up the beach and ended in a series of low cliffs, topped with snow-covered trees.

‘Is this Hammerfall?’ she asked the axe-master.

‘No, my lady, there’d be more snow. We’re further south,’ he replied, shaking his head and trying to get his bearings. ‘And there are no cliffs like that on Samnia, so we’re on the mainland somewhere.’

Men lying on the rocks around them now registered the conversation and a few of them sat up, wincing in pain as they became aware of their wounds through the cold.

‘I’m freezing my fucking balls off… and where’s my fucking axe?’ shouted Wulfrick, without moving.

‘Master Wulfrick. Still alive, I see,’ responded Halla with a gratified smile.

The huge axe-master of Fredericksand turned his head and said clearly, ‘Someone tell me where I am and where is the person I should be killing.’

Falling Cloud let a slight laugh escape his lips and for a moment his head felt clearer. ‘I think we’re south of Hammerfall, maybe on the coast of Wraith land.’

‘And my axe?’ Wulfrick asked, still not moving his enormous body from the rocks.

‘Master Wulfrick, your axe is not currently of primary importance. Please pull yourself together,’ Halla responded, making no particular effort to be gentle.

He looked hurt for a moment and swung round to sit up, facing Falling Cloud and the axe-maiden. ‘I’m together. It takes more than a few tentacles to get the better of me.’

* * *

Barely two hundred of the Ranen had survived the initial attack, the Krakens and the subsequent shipwreck. More had perhaps washed up on other coasts, or had managed to flee before the horn was blown, but Halla tried not to think about them. The situation could not be changed by hoping for a thain or two to appear over the hills, and she knew that if none did, she was in charge. Most of those who had gathered on the beach had been washed ashore from other ships and had not had to witness the Krakens – though the main topic of conversation while the men of Fjorlan were carrying out the orders Halla gave them was of tentacles and terror. Of her own men fewer than twenty were still alive, and she found herself giving orders to men from Fredericksand, Hammerfall and the Deep Cross.

Falling Cloud’s injury was not bad and he fashioned a rudimentary splint that enabled him to walk across the rocks with relative ease. Halla thought him quieter and more solemn than he had been, but at least he was being helpful as he moved among the bodies looking for survivors. Wulfrick didn’t move more than a few feet from where he’d washed up and remained deep in thought for some time before he joined the rest.

Halla issued many orders to the battle-brothers around her and didn’t give more than a cursory acknowledgement when they were carried out. Then she just found other things for the men to do, and they seemed happy enough to be moving with purpose. A rough shelter was fashioned to protect against the cold wind, the bodies were assembled in several pyres, and she sent men to scout further inland. The various injuries were being tended to, but every few minutes Halla heard another dying Ranen offer a final prayer to Rowanoco.

A dozen or more Ranen had lost their minds at the sight of the Krakens and they sat in a rough circle, just inside the wash. None of them had spoken and they had ignored numerous shouts from the others. Halla had decided to leave them be for now; if they couldn’t be roused when the time came to move, she’d count them among the lost.

The hours passed quickly and now the sun was beginning to fall in the sky, causing the temperature to drop sharply. Close to a hundred shivering Ranen huddled in the shell of a hull, dragged further inland and propped up to form a rudimentary windbreak. Other small groups of survivors were similarly sheltered along the beach. The body of Algenon Teardrop had not been found and Wulfrick was wandering the surf looking for his lord, refusing calls to come out of the weather and warm himself by the large fire they had now managed to light within the shelter.