Warrior Heroes, page 5
The minutes crept by and Finn, alone for the first time since Arthur’s capture, began to dwell on what might have become of his brother. As hard as he tried to concentrate on the village below, Finn was plagued by visions of Arthur and Brand being tormented by Moldof ’s men. Thorfinna had spoken about Moldof ’s barbaric treatment of her family. What if the same fate had befallen Arthur? The thought twisted Finn’s gut into a knot.
By the time a quarter of an hour or so had passed he was seething. How was he supposed to signal to Hallvard if he didn’t know who Moldof ’s men were? And how would he know that without Thorfinna telling him? She’s as bad as Arthur, he thought, as he stared down at the village. Finn tried to imagine the Professor sitting beside him. He knew what the old man would have said: “Stay where you are old chap and follow orders. You can’t win this one on your own.”
And that was when strong arms grabbed Finn from behind and a rough hand clamped firmly over his mouth to muffle his cries. He kicked and writhed around but was completely powerless to resist as he was dragged backwards. He heard the metallic scrape of a sword being drawn and then someone whispered,
“Not yet. He’s more use alive. For now…”
CHAPTER 9
A cloth was stuffed into Finn’s mouth to gag him, his hands were tied behind his back and a rope was looped around his waist. Then he was turned around and his heart sank as he saw his captors for the first time. Two huge warriors flanked their cruel-looking leader.
“I wonder…” said the leader, running a hand across his black beard and scarred cheek. “Do you know who I am?”
Finn shook his head, wanting to give nothing away.
“Really? My name is Moldof.”
Finn shook his head again.
“A boy sent to do a man’s work,” mused Moldof. “Strange. Two boys tried to attack my ship on my last raid. And now another boy spies on my village. Strange, strange, strange. Perhaps you know my thralls?”
Moldof flashed a quick grin at Finn and waved to one of his men. “Ulf,” said Moldof, never taking his eyes off Finn, “I think our new friend would like to meet the thralls.” One of the warriors laughed and strode back up the hill.
Moldof went on. “Early in the morning my look-outs come to me. They tell me that a strange ship sails in from the sea, ready for battle. When they land, the warriors from the ship creep towards my village, hiding in the trees so that they can attack by surprise. I wonder what it is they want?”
Ulf returned, leading two cloaked figures on a rope.
“Take their hoods off,” said Moldof, still staring at Finn.
Finn knew what he was going to see, but nonetheless as the two hoods were thrown back to reveal two more gagged faces his shoulders sagged. Brand and Arthur stared back at him, looking thoroughly miserable.
“Just as I thought,” said Moldof. “Now, there’s something you should all see.” He grabbed the ropes that led from the boys’ waists and yanked them towards the top of the cliff, bringing them to a stop where Finn and Thorfinna had been waiting, just hidden from the village in the trees.
To Finn’s horror he saw that Hallvard and his men had emerged from hiding. There was still no sign of life in the village and Hallvard had evidently grown tired of waiting. Crouched and alert, Hallvard’s men advanced towards the houses.
“I am Hallvard Forkbeard,” the huge warrior cried. “I seek my son and his captor, Moldof. Show yourself!”
Moldof laughed menacingly.
“Show yourself and fight like a man!” Hallvard called again, banging his shield with his axe.
Moldof stepped forward to the top of the cliff. “Up here!” he yelled and at that moment the doors of several houses burst open and all hell broke loose. Suddenly the village was full of men, roaring terrible war cries.
The boys watched in horror as a savage battle played out in front of them. Screams of fear and pain mixed with bellows of anger as the men fought, brutally attacking each other and showing no mercy.
It was impossible to tell who was winning. There were no uniforms or flags, only huge warriors slaughtering and being slaughtered. But soon enough the balance of power became obvious. Men who Finn did not recognise began to turn and run, pursued by men he did recognise from the ship.
Hallvard turned to look up at the cliff top once more and roared, but the sound died in his throat as Moldof pulled the boys out from the trees and pushed them towards the edge of the cliff.
“Brand!” Hallvard cried, though the shout was swallowed by the groans of the dying. As he stood staring up at his son, his axe and shield fell from his hands. His legs crumpled and he fell to his knees. He did not see the injured man beside him bring out the knife. He did not feel it as it slid into his back. He barely moved as Ragnar speared his assailant.
The three boys stood at the top of the precipice looking down to the lethal rocks at the base of the cliff. Finn looked over at Moldof and saw him grinning insanely as he put his hands around Brand’s neck and lifted him off his feet to dangle over the drop. Brand kicked frantically and Moldof started to laugh again.
The sound was drowned out by a scream of pure rage. Moldof ’s man Ulf staggered forward and toppled over the edge of the cliff with an axe protruding from his back. Moldof dropped Brand who just managed to grab on to a corner of rock and hang precariously from the top of the cliff.
Arthur rushed to help him up. Finn turned as another scream of rage tore through the air. Thorfinna was pulling her sword out of the second man’s stomach as she kicked him to the ground. Her eyes were round with fury, her mouth flecked with foam and she turned to face Moldof who was circling warily, sword drawn.
“I remember you, girl,” he sneered. “I remember your parents also.”
Thorfinna seemed not to hear him. It was as if she were possessed. She flew at him, sword swinging, smashing blows down on him that seemed impossibly powerful for someone her size. Surprised, Moldof was driven backwards to the cliff. Thofinna lunged with the edge of her shield and caught Moldof square in the mouth. He staggered a short step backwards, catching his heel and beginning to topple. He dropped his sword and groaned.
Letting out one final terrible scream, Thorfinna drove her sword into Moldof ’s chest and let go. With a look of shock, Moldof fell backwards off the cliff and plunged down to the rocks below.
Thorfinna stared down at his motionless body and snarled. Then she picked up the sword Moldof had dropped and turned to the boys. Each of them flinched as she stepped towards them, still wide-eyed with rage. She sliced through the ropes that tied them and threw Moldof ’s sword to the ground at Brand’s feet. Her face full of fury. Thorfinna turned and rushed back towards the path.
The boys removed their gags. Finn and Arthur stared at one another, pale and shaking their heads.
“We’re still alive,” said Finn
“We were saved by a girl,” said Arthur.
“And she is a berserker,” said Brand, stooping down to pick up the sword. He looked at it fondly.
“Blood Hunter,” he breathed. “Arthur, Finn, with me. We must join the battle!” Before they had taken a step Ragnar burst from the trees and grabbed Brand’s arm.
“It is over, the victory is ours but you must come now. Your father has fallen. He does not have long to live.”
RAIDERS AND BERSERKERS
To start with, the point of raiding was simply for a group of men in one boat to steal as much treasure as possible in the summer and then get back home to the farm. In fact the word Viking probably means pirate in Norse, the Viking’s own language. These raids became known and feared all over Europe because the Vikings fought so fiercely.
Then they got more organised. They began to sail boats up rivers and attack whole cities, from York to Paris. They would attack and kill anyone who got in their way and take control of the city. They would steal whatever they could find. Then they would speak to the most powerful ruler nearby and ask for huge payments of gold and silver in return for leaving the city. People were so afraid of Viking warriors that they usually paid up.
The most feared of all Viking warriors were the berserkers. They wore bearskins or wolfskins instead of armour. Before going into battle they entered an eye-rolling, mouth-foaming frenzy and did crazy things like biting chunks out of their shields. Witnesses said that they fought with superhuman strength and did not feel pain from sword edges or fire.
Some say that berserkers are Odin’s own warriors and that he gives them this superhuman strength.
CHAPTER 10
Ragnar led the boys down to the village where the ground was strewn with the bodies of dying men who had been silenced forever. All of Moldof ’s men had either fled or been killed, while several of Hallvard’s men lay dead also and the rest were clustered around their fallen leader. They stepped aside as Ragnar and the boys approached.
“Father,” cried Brand, rushing forward and kneeling at Hallvard’s side. “This is my fault. If I had not…”
Hallvard held up a hand to silence him.
“My son,” he began, weakly. “We should be rejoicing.”
“How can I rejoice when you lie dying?” Brand sobbed.
“I die on the battlefield, victorious,” said Hallvard. “I die with honour and I die knowing that Valhalla awaits. I die knowing that my son carries my sword, Blood Hunter, and I die knowing that my family are saved. You will join me one day, boy but first you must become a great warrior.” He paused, breathing very heavily now. “Promise me three things, son,” he went on.
“Anything father.”
“Look after your mother, Brand. You are the head of the family now.”
“Of course I will father,” said Brand tearfully.
“Look after Blood Hunter,” Hallvard continued. “That sword has brought many great victories to me and my father before me. Use it well.”
“Yes father.”
“And the last thing…” here Hallvard tried to sit up, but he groaned and collapsed backwards with a moan. He lay silent for a few moments, breathing heavily and gathering his remaining strength.
“My time is nearly come, Brand,” Hallvard resumed. “The last thing you must promise me is this: Thorfinna must be set free for she is no thrall. It was she who led us to you and it was she who killed Moldof. Free her Brand.”
“I will father.”
“Master!” Thorfinna had joined the group unnoticed. The wild frenzy had left her face. She looked utterly exhausted as she knelt down beside Brand.
“Ah, here she is,” whispered Hallvard. “And Odin’s boys, where are they?”
Finn and Arthur stepped forward.
“You have all fought bravely, like true warriors. You have helped me to save my son and my honour. And because of you I die happy and ready for Valhalla. My thanks could never be enough. I will be waiting for all of you.” Hallvard reached up and grasped Brand’s hand, smiled, and closed his eyes.
Brand remained at his father’s side, holding his hand. “Feast well in Valhalla Hallvard Forkbeard,” he whispered, choking back tears. “You will be honoured there for all time.”
When he stood to address the group he seemed to have aged a decade.
“My thanks to all you men who fought so bravely alongside my father. I hope that when it is needed I will lead you to many more victories.” He pointed Blood Hunter to the sky and threw his head back. “Odin, hear me! Give me the courage to honour Hallvard in battle. Give me the strength to wield his sword and bring these men victory in his name and yours. Give me the wisdom to lead as he did!” Brand lowered the sword and his voice wavered as he went on. “But for now we must take his body back to my mother.”
“She will be proud that he died in battle to save you, Brand,” said Ragnar softly, seeing the anguish on the boy’s face.
Brand nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to overtake him. “My father’s final wish is one we can honour immediately. Thorfinna, who fought with the strength of ten men, you have brought honour to your family by killing the murderer who slew your mother and father. My father’s dying wish was that you should be freed and this shall be done at once. You may return with me and live in freedom as part of my family, or you may follow your own path. What do you choose?
Thorfinna looked around at the bodies covering the ground. She looked up at the houses in the village she had once called home and turned back to Brand.
“I will stay by your side,” she said. “But on one condition.”
“Name it,” said Brand and Thorfinna smiled for the first time since Moldof ’s attack in the night.
“You will take me with you whenever you go raiding.”
“Then it is decided,” said Brand. “After your performance this morning I would have you fight alongside me as soon as any man.”
The other men nodded approvingly.
“And what of Odin’s boys,” Brand went on. “What will you do now? Your warning saved us all and you too are welcome to stay with us.”
Arthur and Finn looked at one another and smiled.
“I think we have done what we came here to do,” said Arthur.
“Odin has many uses for us and we will make our own way from here,” Finn added. “We are never able to stay in one place for long.”
“I thought that might be your answer,” said Brand. “It has been an honour to fight at your side. May Odin continue to grant you the wisdom and courage you brought with you. Now men,” he continued. “We must take the bodies back home.”
While the group set about their grim task, Thorfinna came over to Finn and touched his arm.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“What for?” Finn asked.
“Brand is right. Without your warning we would all have died. Instead most of us live, and I have kept my oath to avenge the murder of my family.”
“And you are now a free woman, as promised,” said Arthur.
“Thank you both,” she said again, and then turned to follow the men as they carried their dead back to the boat, ready to set to sea once more.
Finn and Arthur looked at one another. They knew their job was done. Thorfinna had been freed, Blood Hunter had been returned to its rightful owner and Hallvard’s spirit had begun the journey to Valhalla.
Looking around them they became aware of a thickening sea mist. The white vapour swirled gracefully around them until they could no longer see one another. As the mist slowly cleared, Finn and Arthur began to make out the familiar shapes and smells of the Professor’s study. Standing tall and imposing as ever, the huge figure of Hallvard’s ghost faded with the mist until it had vanished completely.
WARRIOR HEROES
The Knight’s Enemies
Benjamin Hulme-Cross
Forced to travel back in time by the terrifying ghost of Sir William Malory, can brothers Arthur and Finn prevent the death of his daughter and stop the castle falling? Will the boys escape after being captured and imprisoned, succeed in changing the course of history and make it back to the present?
£4.99
9781472904393
Extract from
WARRIOR HEROES
The Knight’s Enemies
Arthur became aware of a steady far-away roar, like that of the sea heard from a distance. His mind reached out towards the sound and it grew louder but though he blinked his eyes against the darkness, he could still see nothing. Gradually he began to make out more sounds intermingled with the roar. They were shouts, he realised, though they still sounded distant. Where am I? He wondered, noticing for the first time how cold he was. The air around him began to move and he had the strange sensation that he was falling backwards.
Shadowy figures in front of a shimmering light appeared in front of him. It was only as his mouth filled with icy water that he realised he was looking up at the sky. I’m underwater, he thought calmly. And then he was awake. Terrified, he thrashed around in the water. His foot struck something hard and he kicked up towards daylight.
Chest burning, he shot up through the water and gulped in a huge, spluttering lungful of air as he broke the surface. He twisted around to the sound of shouting and saw that he was in a fast-flowing river. A steep, rocky bank was slipping quickly by in a blur of green.
“Quick boy!” someone yelled.
The water spun Arthur around as it whisked him along and he saw to his horror that he was fast approaching a water mill. Its giant paddles churned slowly through water that swirled and bubbled ominously. He kicked and thrashed towards the bank and his hand brushed against a stone. It was worn smooth by the river and he slid inexorably on.
“Help!” he cried, swallowing mouthfuls of icy water as the paddles churned closer and closer.
“Here boy! You only have one chance.” A man was sprinting along the bank next to Arthur and was soon ahead of him – in between him and the mill. The man reached down and held a long staff over the water. Arthur bobbed towards the staff, twisting desperately to position himself and a moment later he had it in both hands. His head dipped below the water as the current tugged him round. One hand slipped off the staff and as he felt the other beginning to slide he heard the creak of the mill and closed his eyes.
First published 2014 by A & C Black
An imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
50 Bedford Square, London, WC1B 3DP
www.bloomsbury.com
Bloomsbury is a registered trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
PB 9781472904492
ePUB 9781472907851
ePDF 9781472907868
This electronic edition published in 2014 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
Copyright © 2014 A & C Black
Text copyright © Benjamin Hulme-Cross
Illustration copyright © Angelo Rinaldi
Additional Illustrations © Shutterstock
