The Wolf Hammer, page 13
part #1 of Odin's Bastard Series
The elves said nothing. Tarl cursed under his breath.
No answers were forthcoming.
“We can still do this,” Yggra said softly.
“They won’t just let us in, will they?” Rikas roared at him. “You idiot.”
I watched them, and Ajax leaned closer, whispering softly like a snake, like a best of conspirators. Ajax loved to gossip. “Rumors have it, that Rikas is hoping to marry Reignhelm. That it has been settled, and Graymoor is the only one trying to push his Naera forth. Rikas has stiff competition.”
Tarl was apparently thinking about the same, for his eyes rested on his daughter, and he was worried the disaster below would hamper his chances.
Yggra looked sick. He was opening his mouth like a landed fish and trying to gather momentum again.
And then I stepped forward.
Eglin was half asleep, watching their fleet and so I kicked him discreetly, and Eglin, as agreed, grinned and stepped forth, to the shock of Yggra. “There is a way, King.”
They stared at him, and all had a disbelieving look on their faces.
He went on, nonetheless. “I agree with my murderous brother that the walls at least should be taken. For all our glory. So that we can siege the castle on top, and not waste time on the walls below. We want the city, the small keep on the walls, and the city to sleep in. If the High King gives my father’s duties to me—”
“He has not yet,” Tarl said.
“If,” said Eglin, “then I must point out that we shall freeze out here. Fall is coming. I know the coast and the sea. I would not have attacked the gates,” he said, to Yggra’s rage, “but now we should fix his mistakes. Aye. I have to agree with Yggra. We will take the walls.”
Gilad and Rikas spun to watch Eglin, and Tarl laughed.
“Spit it out, boy,” said Tarl. “I got no more time for this game between Aten’s princes. Agree with Yggra, indeed. Like confessing to being a half-wit! I—”
“I tell you,” he said. “He might have little guile,” Eglin said brazenly, making Yggra shake in his boots with shame, “but we can send the ships in again.”
Everyone blinked. Rikas finally roared and turned away in disgust. Gilad shook her head.
“This is your plan,” Tarl said softly, a sign of danger. “Just try again? Maybe the jotun went to bed?”
Yggra tried to pull Eglin back, but the boy evaded his grasp.
“Try again and let most sink. Shipwreck the rest where they can see them, below on the beach. Free the bay.”
They watched him like he was mad. “You are on their side?” Tarl wondered. “That’s it? You are?”
“To what end?” demanded one bright-eyed elf, though with curiosity. His eyes were traveling the room.
I felt the chills for their presence. They were like snakes, silent mostly, but ready to bite.
“That’s a costly plan,” Tarl sneered. “And seems to accomplish nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Costly to Aten,” Eglin said. “My brother has already made a costly mistake; we cannot simply abandon the plan. But there is more.”
Yggra sputtered and hissed like a cat.
The elf smiled. Rikas and Gilad were watching the brazen prince curiously.
The boy was shaping up and seemed to be in good spirits, despite having practically helped kill his father the night before.
Tarl smiled but spoke dubiously. “More?” He eyed the rest of us. “He is mad.” He leaned close to Eglin. “You are mad, right? No, I don’t think this will accomplish a thing. But we have little else—”
“And when the ships are gone, men killed,” Eglin said with a wink, “the ones who would do business in the city will know their chance has come. They will again bring in supplies. This very night, I bet. I know smugglers and merchants. Right, Cur?”
Every eye turned my way. I was hulking, tall and powerful, and looked barbaric with a long sword on my side and the helmet on my head.
The elves observed me.
“Why is his head—” Rikas began.
“Mercenary of the east,” Eglin whispered. “Hurt in Lorin. Terrible looking fellow. Let him be. Won’t do good to our appetites to see that ripped nose. Tell them what I have been planning.”
I stepped forth. “The young adeling Eglin has not been idle. He sent men up and down the coast to see what we might find. We found a town. We had scouts last night in a place called the Little Tower, a town not far from here. Ten miles from the coast? Yes. There are ships there, large tubs, filled with fresh supplies. Mostly wine. My men…”
My eyes went to Shian, who smiled demurely.
“…my scout found that the ships are there, waiting for an opportunity to bring wine to Jarl of White Tower. Seems he was caught with low stocks when this siege started. Eglin here rightly thought this might be an opportunity, but this loss of galleys would open it up for them, the bay, the city. Make our loss look terrible. It will make them brazen. We know the smugglers and traders will risk much for profit, and the city will appreciate it. They will know the ship that comes to their chain.”
Tarl’s eyes went to Shian, and Rikas cleared her throat. The King of Vittar smiled. “You think? Or Eglin?”
“Eglin,” I said.
“I say no,” Yggra began. “They are our ships, and—"
Eglin winked. “Of course, Tarl Vittar is our leader in this camp, no matter who is a temporary king of Aten.”
“I am not temporary—”
Eglin was shouting now, “—and much of the glory will go to him.”
The elf nodded slowly, not lost on Tarl.
“It is indeed a great idea,” Rikas said finally, wondering at the young adeling. “How many men will you take? And what will you do?”
Eglin watched me.
“Make sure the crippled galleys only look crippled,” I said. “Prepare to get to the bay, and early morning, late night, we will sail in there. I will go to the tower with the chains, and we will take place. We will blow horns, so you will know to enter.”
They stared at me thoughtfully.
Rikas shivered. “You forget something.”
I tilted my head.
She smiled sweetly, and Gilad finished the thought. “That jotun is in there.”
I nodded. “No, Eglin didn’t forget him. He told me to kill it.”
They stared at me, and then they laughed.
Tarl grinned. “You?”
“I shall kill him,” I said. “Me and my men. And women. We are from the east, after all.”
They went silent.
Rikas nodded. “Well! You don’t say! If you do, you may ask anything of me. Anything! Win the war for my father.”
They didn’t talk to Eglin.
They spoke to me.
I bowed.
Anything.
Yggra looked at me with shock. Tarl nodded at him. “Give the orders, adeling.”
“King!”
Tarl stared at him, and the elves were watching, and so Yggra seemed to deflate like a holed bag.
Yggra turned to go, but Eglin leaned close to his brother, and I heard Elgin whispering, “Next time, I will come for you. You failed.”
“What are you talking about?” Yggra hissed, but the elf snapped his fingers, and fuming, Yggra moved off.
I watched them go, and Borin grinned.
It had all worked perfectly.
I felt the eyes of the elves on my back and wondered when I would finally get caught.
I walked outside to see Yggra speaking to a man with flags, and soon, horns were braying and flags flashing signals to the retreating galleys, and after several repeated orders to the disbelieving admiral, they turned back. Horns were blowing in the sea-walls and what followed, would be a butchery.
I didn’t mind. Yggra was watching Eglin with unbridled hatred.
Eglin too, was watching the losses his countrymen were suffering with surprising passivity.
He was a dangerous boy.
“Cur,” Yggra called out to me. “You are my oathsman. I am your ring-giver. You take your orders—”
“From me,” said Eglin. “I guess we shall soon hear what the High King thinks as well. He made the father a king, after all. He can take the ring away. And he can, and will, give it to me. I have suffered greatly for it.”
I said nothing and felt Yggra struggling not to scream. Then Yggra stalked off with his guards.
I nodded Eglin along, and we all walked for our camp. “Are you sure the man you found in the Little Tower is a good fit?”
“Yes,” she said. “He will do well. He has things to lose in this city.” She smiled at me, her thigh moving enticingly in the slit of her chain.
I tried not to stare at her. I failed.
“This man is helpless with drink and dice,” she said. “Cannot resist. So, I know all there is to know about him. He is a pilot in the White Tower, and he travels to the towns on trade routes to guide ships through the waters. Often smugglers. Knows the city and the ways under it. He can get us in. A clever plan. But I am not surprised. I knew you had it in you.”
She looked at the gauntlet on my hand. She hesitated and touched it.
I thought of my wife, and still didn’t stop her from holding my hand. “Your skin healed?” she murmured, looking down.
I nodded. “It is better. The fires don’t really burn me, though my skin is raw. I really don’t know…you and…"
“I know,” she said. “We’ll speak later.” She squeezed my hand and touched my chin, and I felt calm roll over me.
She led me off, and I let her hold my hand, confused, and knowing I desired her.
My wife seemed suddenly to be seas away.
I was ashamed and also happy.
Ajax was scratching his chin as we came to our horses where forty chosen men waited. The windy beach was a miserable place to camp in, ships or no ships, and dead things that died in the beach stanched up the air. Ajax nodded behind us, and I turned to see Eglin standing near. I watched him as he approached, and he hesitated and then shook his head. “I will come, of course. Yggra will blame me for everything from now on, and I shall need to keep away from him, or he will have me killed, and—”
“Yes,” I snarled. “But I cannot promise you shall live. You have done well so far.”
His eyes were on Shian’s hand on mine.
Then he looked down. “I will be a good king.”
“You will find a good wife,” I told him and knew I had marked Shian as mine, rather than his.
Borin laughed and jumped on a horse.
We mounted up, and Shian was hovering near me. We met each other’s eyes. “You think this will work?”
“It will work,” she whispered. “Trust yourself. But remember, it is not likely any of us survive. The Exiles will be terrible foes, no matter if we have a king in our pocket now.”
“We will do well,” I said. “Does Eglin know who I am, yet?”
“He guesses,” she whispered. “And I asked him about that night your mother died. You should talk to him about your mother. He doesn’t know much, but he knows something.”
I grunted. “Yes.”
“The Jotun,” she said.
I looked at her.
“You’ll need the hammer for the Jotun,” she told me quietly. “If we get that far. Please be careful. Don’t let the enemy see you. It is likely there will be that fire again. The elves must not see any of that.”
I nodded.
I gazed at her as she mounted.
Ajax, I could understand. He hoped his luck carried him to power and old age, laced with riches in a kingdom for our people.
Borin, he wanted coin. Immediately. And to fight. Possibly with me. And something else.
I grinned. It was possible I didn’t understand him, after all.
Shian was an enigma, and I hoped, and feared, what her request would be. She had said she didn’t think she could get hers. That it wasn’t likely.
“How will we convince the pilot?” I asked her. “You said he had a weakness?”
“We will find something precious to hold on to,” she said, and I smiled, for she gave me hope. “He has a family in White Tower, and one secret one in this town, in the Little Tower. He has a daughter there.”
How did she find out a secret like that, so fast?
I hesitated, but she rode out, the men followed, Eglin with them, and so we rode out to the land without Yggra’s blessings, and by nightfall, we came to Little Tower, a fishing community with trader warehouses. There, we took over a ship called Lucky Bastard.
We sank the rest.
***
The ship lurched as it was running over waves. The captain, an old hand with a grizzly beard, was staring ahead lifelessly. His head, twisted around, was leaning on the mast, and the crew that survived only had to watch the captain’s corpse, half hidden under a blanket near the mast, to understand the risks of making noise at the wrong time.
The pilot, an older man with a limp, was standing near the tiller in the aft cabin, with Borin guiding the ship.
His eyes were gleaming with fear, and I was walking back and forth on the deck, huddled in a hooded cape. Shian kept her eyes downcast, and the pilot’s visited hers, whenever they could.
They found hope in her, even though she had led us to him.
The woman sitting below deck would be our prisoner for the time being.
His daughter.
I ignored the pang in my conscience and was surprised I had one. I shifted the covered hammer in my back and walked to look at the spur of the dark rocks above us, lit by the half-covered moons.
I could spot a fire, small and barely perceptible, up there.
The pilot spoke softly. “I know the waters well. I guide ships here all the time, and often at night.”
“Smugglers and pirates, and traders by day,” Borin stated sourly. He hated ships.
“Aye,” the pilot said. “That is what I do. The jarl pays me. Others do as well.”
“Well, I suppose you deserve this then,” Borin said happily. “You know what will follow if you should find yourself struggling with your conscience?”
He nodded. “I will subdue it.”
Shian had done her work well. He was the perfect choice.
“There will be wreckage before the sea-gates,” I told him.
“I heard,” he whispered. “I know. The bay is very deep. There are no dead ships to hamper our way in. Only archers. Please. I need to understand what you expect of me.”
“The chains,” I said. “As explained. How does one lower them, and where?”
“I told her,” he said weakly.
“Tell me,” I snarled.
“There is a landing just inside the gates,” he spoke tiredly. “Where they come aboard to inspect ships. That gate is always locked, save for us pilots. They expect the captain and the pilot to go inside and to present their cargo manifest. Even now, no doubt. There, you also pay taxes. High taxes, normally, but now, they would pay us. The wine goes to the jarl.”
“To the jarl, no,” Ajax said. “It will stay with the Grudge Breakers. But there it is. And inside?”
“Stairways up to the next level where it connects with the walls, and another after that to the roof. The chains are controlled down below. You take stairs down from the first room. No doors inside.”
“Sounds about right,” Borin grunted. “Need we know more?”
“When can I get my daughter back?” he whispered.
“When the city is taken,” I said. “And after I am done with you.”
“This night, then,” he whispered.
“The whole city,” I said. “You will have a single task afterward.”
He thought about complaining, about denying us the request.
I watched him, and he blanched and nodded. “Very well.”
“Tell me, man, what way might a smuggler get up to the castle?” I asked him casually. “Make sure you tell me the truth. You’ll be using it.”
He hesitated and spoke, and I spent time listening to him talking about the undercity of the White Tower, while he was guiding Borin past rocks and danger.
Soon, the sleek merchant ship rounded the rocky peninsula and bore down on the White Tower. There, we would have to fight hard to survive.
Against a jotun.
I touched the hammer and prayed to the gods for help, but we had no choice.
Shian had made us an ally in Eglin.
I would need to make allies of my own.
Borin tossed the captain’s corpse overboard.
***
We watched the sea-walls and the tower high above us and saw dozens of archers looking down. They were not precisely alarmed, as they watched our cloaked figures lounging on the deck, the ship barely moving. The sails had been lowered, and now oars, one bank of them were in the water, and the rowers were singing softly, as the pilot claimed they often did.
They knew he was coming, and I, pretending to be the captain, stood near the pilot. The officer who was watching down from above was actually grinning.
“You missed a great performance today, Petro,” he called down.
“Petro,” the pilot said softly, “is the captain.”
I nodded and waved back.
The officer frowned for a moment, and then heard the clink of bottled wine, as a fortuitous wave rocked the boat, and he smiled down gleefully. “We’ll pay you siege-gold, but perhaps you can forget a few cases of wine here with us…”
I laughed, loud enough for him to hear, and nodded.
He was watching our men still, then the sea beyond us, where Aten’s remaining ships would be put to water, slowly, silently.
“Any trouble from Aten, or the High King?” the officer asked.
“We could discuss that later?” the pilot said. “Makes me nervous about being down here. There are bound to be the dead haunting the waves, but not the living. I tell you that. They are gutted. The spirits will be swimming here. They’ll be upset, no?”
“They will be!” he roared. “The fools tried to get to the chain twice! The first time was costly. Second? They have four available ships left, most beached as the crews nearly mutinied.” He hesitated and then nodded. “Chain Master! Lower the thing and then raise the beast as they pass. I am not talking about your cock!”
