The Wolf Hammer, page 11
part #1 of Odin's Bastard Series
I lost my sword. He had too.
We scrambled on to our feet.
He pulled a dagger.
The dagger came down, and I caught it with my forearm. I kept the blade in check and slammed my gauntlet fist into his grinning face.
His jaw broke.
Teeth flew in an arch and scatted across the deck.
He scrambled away, but I grasped forward and caught him by the crotch. I squeezed and yanked mercilessly. He yelped. I found his hand still armed with a dagger and aimed it at his throat.
The blade went through him. He howled, spat, and died slowly on the blade.
I heard a sound.
On top, I saw a man, a third man, looking down in shock.
He hesitated, I struggled to get up, and he disappeared, in an instant. Then I heard a crash and a muffled scream.
I struggled to my feet, cursed my sore jaw, and managed to find my sword. Then I climbed ladders from the pit and got up.
I found Elgin, shaking near the doorway to the cabin, pulling on his pants.
I found Shian, her spear in the third man’s back, her smile ferocious, as she stood there, blooded and bare with the chain-mail heaped around her hips. Her leather tunic was in the cabin’s bed.
I looked at the two.
She had gone further than I had suggested.
It was not my business. And still…
Shian acted well. She didn’t look very happy at seeing me there. “Were you,” she said, “spying on us?”
I waved my hands around the corpses. “I didn’t even know where you were. Borin was just looking for you. I was—"
“Saving me?” she asked. “Thank you. They were going to murder him!”
She looked at Elgin and then at me.
Elgin leaned against a wall and panted with fear. “They were.”
She smiled, and I felt my anger dissipating. She stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder, speaking what we had agreed on, her breasts pressing into my arm. “I think this was Yggra’s doing,” she said with a worried voice.
“Or someone else’s?” Eglin said, his eyes round with fear. “She saved my life. As did you, Captain.”
He was frowning too.
He was hopelessly in love with her.
I saw the javelin had shattered the bed where Eglin had sat.
“I had a hand at that,” I said as I pulled Shian to my side. “Aye. You owe us your life. And of course, this was Yggra. He is terrified of you.”
Shian nodded. “It is so.”
The act had been good. I was still upset at her.
And I could only stare at her beautiful face, and the bared breasts and I struggled with the urge to keep her safe.
My…own.
No. That was impossible
I turned to Eglin. “Looks like your brother has taken a step he cannot take back.”
Eglin looked pale and nodded.
“I think,” I said softly, speaking to him frankly, “that your father will not make you a king.”
He nodded. “I know. It is wrong, but he has decided long ago on us. Yggra is his firstborn, and he loves him best. Perhaps he loves none other. Our mother died years ago.”
I stepped to him and leaned close. “What sort of a man are you, Eglin? I thought at first that you were a piss-pants boy-lover. But you were brave, and you are not crying now.”
He straightened his back. “I don’t know yet. But I suspect I am no piss-pant, nor a boy-lover, as you saw…”
His eyes went to Shian, and I snapped my fingers. “Concentrate. Forget her. I have been thinking, boy. We have staked our future on you. So, I think you should carry a certain ring. The one with a red gem.”
He nodded. “Father is years from dying, though.”
“You do not have years,” I said, and nodded at the bodies. “See?”
He was silent, thinking.
“I say,” I told him, “that we go this very night on a trip. You need to speak with your father about this incident.”
“It won’t matter to him,” he whispered. “He’ll still choose Yggra. He knows, but—”
“I am telling you should do this, boy,” I said. “Listen. It is time to choose. Will you die?”
He shook his head. “Never. No.”
“Never is too extreme a position in this matter. But I know what you mean. In that case,” I said plainly, “you must come to terms with some harsh truths. You will be a kinslayer, for Yggra must ultimately fall. He is beyond redemption. To do that, you need to be a beast. You must be his enemy. And what do we do with our enemies, boy?”
“We kill them,” he whispered.
“Yggra has to die,” I said. “But it has to take place after he no longer is a threat to you, and none remember him. You can get all that is his. But only if you dare step further than most men would. And we? We will all be rich, and in the end, you will help us regain our lands.” I eyed him, and he stared at me with surprising coolness. “Will you listen?”
He nodded.
And I told him what I planned.
When I was done, he sat down on the deck and thought for a long while.
It was a good sign. I could see the struggle, but there was one, and soon, I saw he sincerely didn’t wish to die, but to reach for the stars, and so, he decided.
He finally squinted up at me. He nodded. “Tyr help me,” he whispered.
“The gods don’t care,” I said. “We will deal with the details. You will do as we say, and in the end, you will not regret it. Just be patient. First, we go and do a terrible deed. Then we shall seek to do more. In the end, I shall speak to Yggra in private, and we shall let you know what more is needed.”
“More and more,” he said. “I wonder where it will end. And you would speak with Yggra, eh? Before he dies? Why? Who are you?” Eglin asked. “Shian seems to fear you. Or for you. I am not sure which. I’d almost prefer the former.”
She shook her head at me and murmured, sensing my unhappiness. “Trust me. I’ll handle it. He is just a boy.”
I hesitated and saw Borin coming, his eyes in slits. He watched us, and then Eglin, tensely. “Well? What’s going on here?”
Eglin rubbed his face and looked like a man who just lost his soul.
In a way, he had.
He nodded. “I agreed to their suggestions.”
I turned to Shian. “We’ll get to work. I have work to do. You have your part. Borin, get Elgin ready. And get us Lug.”
Eglin smiled. “You had not told Borin what is taking place. And how would he know Lug is down there?”
He was too clever for his own good. Or I was too foolish.
“Borin is a brute,” I told him. “He’ll be filled in. Now he shall just do as he is told. Borin?”
He smiled and hopped down, and I pulled Shian away with me, to a cabin where they had been. I closed the door on Eglin.
She smiled and stood close to me. “I will handle him. He is smart, as you noticed.” She stepped closer. “So. You and Borin, and him. And I shall ride and find us a way to the city, eh?”
“We need to get to the city. He needs to be a miracle maker. But we can do it. We’ll drive Yggra up the wall until we have him where we want him, and the rest too. We need the city. That keep.”
She clasped my arm and squeezed. “I agree. And you know, I will deal with it. Take care of our adeling here. And take care of you.”
“I should not let you go alone,” I said. “Take a man or two.”
“Worry not, love,” she said with a bright smile, and hesitated at the word. “Sorry. I know I should not…”
“I don’t…” I whispered. “I think it is only because I barely remember my wife’s voice. See?”
She took my hand, held it, and leaned close. She put a hand on my face and guided my hand on her chest, and there I kept the hand. She put her forehead on my chin, and gently pushed me on the bed.
She sat over me, the chainmail clinking, and leaned to kiss my cheek, my neck. The helmet she removed and looked deep into my eyes. And I moved my hand and brushed it across her erect nipple. She breathed a sigh of joy, and pushed her hand between us, and worked her way under my chain, into my pants, and I felt relief, joy, and that it was somehow, in some way, not wrong.
She found my manhood, and it was erect, ready, and with desperate hurry, she worked it free, looking at it as she moved and tugged at it, and then, she sat over me.
She had no pants.
She was warm, and wet, and pleasing, and I entered her, slowly, very slowly, and she moved on me, twitching, panting softly, and she pressed me back to the wall, stretching me to fully enjoy herself. It was as silent as it might be with chainmailed warriors, and it was pleasing, then brilliant, and for a moment, just for a moment, I felt I remembered what my wife had felt like, and I let myself fully into the world of pleasure.
I held her, I kissed her and pulled her on me, as I moved hard and also with care, noting her needs, and in the end, I came inside her with furious joy, and she laughed, trembling and shaking, sweaty and surprised as she was weak over me. She pulled me to her, and caressed me, as I was inside her. We were both sated, and I returned to the world of shame again, her juices and mine mixing in my lap.
She whispered to me, “Poor Lug. He thought he was saving Elgin.”
“Poor us all,” I said.
She leaned forward and kissed my cheek and got up. She began dressing. She found her tunic, and belt. She also found her loincloth and tied it on.
She had not had it with Eglin.
I rubbed my face and wondered how complicated things suddenly were.
We were committed.
I feared my heart was too.
Had I always been such a bad husband?
***
That night, we rode with the adeling.
He had a severe look on his face, the sort when you know you won’t sleep well again, unless you change course, and still, you know that course is set. The step over the precipice was something he had wanted to take all his life—to be all he had never been—but he was still reluctant.
He was intelligent and knew what was at stake.
A crown. His soul. His life.
He could get the crown.
But then he would have to deal with us for the rest of his life.
He was thinking about it, and very aware of how he would have none to protect him from us, except the favors he could do as a king.
He thought we would be asking for gold and position, for help to regain our land.
He suspected we would want more.
I would. He was right.
We passed troops on the road, men riding errands and bringing messages, and we saluted every officer as Eglin spoke with them, showing them his signet, seeking the exact place where Gar would meet the High King.
Then, after hours, we followed their instructions to a tavern called the Sleepy Warthog, the low-roofed, sprawling inn on the Ram’s Road.
The inn was alive, even in the middle of the night.
No traveler could possibly relax, for a king was there, and another was coming, and people were there to meet both. Wagons and supplies were passing and being tallied. Borin grunted, as he watched it.
“Busier,” I said, “than some whorehouses you love.”
He nodded and looked at Eglin. “Do you know any such houses?”
The prince blushed. “No,” he said, with a shivering voice.
Borin was trying to relax the prince, with little success.
Eglin was staring at a building to the side—a beautiful, whitewashed, and walled construction with a red roof—and there stood two Aten’s guards.
“He will wish to know,” Elgin said softly, “why I am here. So I will tell him of Lug.”
“You will tell him of the murder attempt,” I told him. “That you no longer trust your guards.”
He shook his head, white of face. “What if Lug had not done this?”
“If he had not,” I lied him, “we would not be here. This is Yggra’s fault. We are simply striking back.”
Did he suspect we had set Lug up?
Possibly.
He didn’t show it.
“What if Father had not gone to meet with the High King?” he asked.
“We would have found some other way,” I growled. “I am clever, boy. I look like an idiot, dirty and greasy, but I am no fool. I use my wits, son. We are with you. And you are with us, and we can make you a king. This is the plan, for all our sakes. You go in there, and you will complain to your father, demanding justice. He’ll send you away. Everyone will know about it. Everyone will know your brother tried to murder you. And when your father dies, they will think it was Yggra.” I winked. “Especially when Lug’s body will be found in the camp, dead, with your father’s ring. He did, after all, have a terrible argument with your father. And everyone will know you were here, telling him about a murder attempt against you. Make sure Gar’s men know of this.”
He shook his head. “You are oddly lucky and clever and seem to stumble along on a trail that would get most anyone hanged in less than few minutes. You must want your land back a great deal.”
“I don’t feel lucky,” I told him. “And you are right. I want some things very badly. Ask no more for now.”
“Why are you making me the king?” he asked anyway. “Shian said you are not an ordinary man, and that rewards you expect are unusual.”
“They are,” I answered. “Riches, for some. Land back, too. And something for me.”
He watched us as we dismounted. He hesitated and followed suit. “Where,” he wondered, “do I go after?”
“Come back here and wait,” I said. “Until late, if you need be. If things go wrong, run. Keep our horses ready.”
He watched us, then the hall, and spat. “My father will have guards with him. Elven guards. One. Maybe two?”
“That is the part we must deal with,” I said.
“He never cared for me, anyway. Always on Yggra’s side,” he said, shaking. “But don’t let him suffer.”
“He’s got it coming,” Borin said, eyes twinkling. “Forget him.”
He nodded.
The boy was doomed.
In many ways.
I opened a sack and pulled out long, black, hooded tunics. I pulled out daggers and swords, which Borin and I shifted into our belts, hidden. I pulled out a crossbow, and Borin took it, somehow hiding it in his tunic as well. I left my own sword on the horse, and drew my hood up, removing the helmet. Elgin was curious, I felt it, but I ignored him, and made sure all the gear was on the horse. Then I walked forward to the tavern. I turned to look at him.
Eglin sighed, and he squared his shoulders, muttering, no doubt cursing that he wasn’t drunk, and rehearsing words of dismay as he skipped along.
He walked forth and flashed his signet, needlessly, to the guards who knew him. He pushed through the doorway, and we went with him, never stopped by anyone. We came to the great central hall, where fires burned, and men were slinking from one shadow to another, servants and tired guests and guards.
The soldiers were there, guarding him, exhausted, eating on the tables, thirty of them.
There was no sign of so much as a single elf.
Elgin nodded at us, making an imperious motion so that we would stay in the hall.
He walked forth and found an older man, a castellan of his father’s, and they spoke at length. The man, full of sympathy, pointed Elgin towards a room at the end of the hall, near the shadows.
Borin and I walked after Elgin, and we saw, past pillars and a grand hallway, a pair of doors. The castellan went with Eglin and knocked. There was a single guard on the doorway. Gar Atenguard’s face darkened as he opened the door. He was dressed in a robe, and servants were leaving it with empty platters, from another door beyond our sight to the left.
An elf, seated near the middle of the room, was staring with bright, yellow eyes, sword bared.
Eglin went in, gesturing wildly. We walked slowly, stopping to sample at a plate of meats.
The boar’s juices were soon running down our chins. We studied the groups of men who were speaking calmly in their tables—a motley crew of Aten’s guards and some visitors, men, come to talk to Gar. Few men were guarding the lot, and most seemed on the verge of sleep, stalking the darker corners.
I watched a doorway to the side, where servants were leaving the hall. I guessed there was a servant’s area in the corner, a kitchen and cellars, and I wagered it would be connected to the king’s room too.
Borin was eyeing that way as well. He was nodding and humming, and then, looking around, he picked up a large plate from the table. “I’ve noticed you are fortunate. Uncommonly lucky. I hope that luck lasts.”
“We make our own,” I said. “Let’s load it up.”
He stood there, eyes gleaming. He winked, and I hesitated, and began lifting empty mugs to the platter, and lifted bones and scraps on it as well.
I pushed back the hood and tried to quell the panic of being in public without my helmet.
I pushed Borin to the next table, where we were soon picking up used plates and mugs to fill it up.
Then we turned towards the doorway, as we heard Eglin’s voice echoing with anger.
We marched on, looking grave and tired, and dodged inside.
We found a large room where fires burned lazily, cauldrons were bubbling, and a large man was cutting up meat and vegetables. Beyond the room, a path led towards the main hall of the outer tavern, a surprisingly long way from this side-building. On that corridor, a soldier stood before a doorway.
“You two,” growled a cook. “Help out with the meats. One of you to the cellar for more mead. The Red Heart, not the good stuff, mind you.”
I tried to skip downstairs, but Borin virtually rushed before me, shoving me aside, and ran that way, while winking. He was nodding down, and I frowned. He made a brief throat cut motion, and then he skipped down the stairs.
I went to the cook, who nodded at a filthy slab of wood with a cleaver, and there was a thick chunk of meats next to it.
He tossed me a large knife.
