“You four need to stop complaining and lift!”

Bodalf, Geir, Ospak and Skardi said nothing as Thorleif’s black eyes glared at them.

“On three!”

When the call came again, this time the five Viking’s roared as they used their legs, lifting the twelve foot long ballista off the ground and waiting as the next set of men and elves moved in to help.

Blocks were placed again under the weapon and the groans of not having to support the metal frame came from the five.

“It’s solid metal,” Skardi said after he stepped back. “We’re going to complain because this thing weighs more than your head!”

Everyone but Thorleif chuckled and then went silent as the older Viking glared.

“You talk about being big and strong and yet you are wet behind the ears. We should have been done with this one already and yet most of the time was spent complaining about how quickly they could get blocks under this,” the bald headed warrior replied. “Tell me, didn’t your father buy you the runes you have so that you could do these things without crying like a babe off its mothers teat?”

Skardi’s face lost the smirk from a second ago and he bit down on his lips, moving to stand before the shorter warrior.

“Do you wish to say that again? I will–”

“Do nothing,” Osvif shouted as he jogged toward the five. “Stop comparing dick sizes and get to work! We don’t have time for this and Thorleif is right. You should have been done an hour ago.”

The giant’s head snapped at the approach of the one who had given them this task and opened his mouth.

“Don’t,” the shorter one continued. “We don’t have time. Take that rage and use it against what we face. Everyone here knows that bald headed, shriveled up ball sack before you is right because he only speaks when he knows it. If you want to earn those coins Einar has promised, finish the task. Otherwise we’ll be at the back of the line when it comes time to get the runes that are crafted.”

Each man bristled at that last line, chests rising and their heads bobbed for a second.

Glaring at Osvif for just a second, Skardi turned back to Thorleif who was moving to his spot to lift again. Huffing, he moved to the front and grabbed the bars set at the base.

“Fine, let’s get this over with!”

All the workers who had been backing away as the conflict grew, moved toward the ballista again, more blocks ready to add to the growing stack.

“And lift!”

Osvif turned and jogged back to where Einar and Thorodd were waiting, the ballista they had been tasked with already loaded on a cart.

“You did good,” Thorodd said with a chuckle. “Fine leadership.”

“Makes me not want to be a pack leader. Bunch of idiots acting like children who didn’t get the last bit of pudding at the festival.”

Both men chuckled and Einar reached over, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder and giving him a shove.

“Hey now, I remember you pouting a few times. Besides, the worst part about leading is people. They don’t like to listen and obey. If you can find out how to motivate and keep them content most of the time, you’ll be ready to run a kingdom.”

“Please Odin do not curse me like that,” Osvif bemoaned. “I can’t imagine the pain of that kind of responsibility.”

“No… no you can’t. Now then, how many more days till we can go?”

“Three. Most of the equipment is ready, all I’m waiting on is a modified version of the chains they used for these weapons.”

Einar nodded, and motioned to Thorodd.

“You’ll need to ensure we have plenty of food for our travels. This is going to be a large caravan and we’ll have extra horses to pull these things. Find a few more casks of alcohol. We’ll hand some out each night until we are two days away. After that, we’ll go dry. Everyone needs to ensure we are ready for what comes next.”

“Never in my life had I believed I would be doing this,” his second in command stated. “About to take on a beast like this. I pray the gods honor us in ways that we will never be able to imagine.”

As both watched the Viking leave, Einar studied his friend.

“What’s on your mind? I can see the look on your face. Either you have gas or something is bothering you.”

“Fuck you,” Osvif muttured. “You know how much of this falls on me. If this fails everyone will blame me.”

“Not true. At the end of the day, I’ll take the blame.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” his friend replied. “They worship you. No matter what you say, there will always be a part of them that wonders if I was the weakest link. Even when you tell me over and over how they respect what I have helped us do and with all these victories, I’m the one who comes up with the final plans, even if they are your ideas.”

“Do you want me to take over?”

“No. Then what would I do?”

Einar shrugged.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“You could talk to Lyeneru. I heard she was looking for you the other day.”

Rolling his eyes, Osvif shook his head.

“You are an asshole and I know that was you who told her I was interested in her.”

“But you are.”

“Yes I am, but dammit she’s an elf and I’m just a Viking.”

Unable to hold back, Einar laughed and didn’t care who heard or saw him do so.

“You’re a fucking Viking Osvif! One who came up with multiple plans that has resulted in multiple victories. Stop this constant lack of belief in yourself and see what I and everyone else sees! Either man up, realize you have a role in all this and accept the success you’ve had, or find another pack to join. This ‘I have to prove myself’ shit gets old. No one here cares!”

Einar could feel the heat in his cheeks and saw how his only real friend since the day he arrived was frowning at him.

Neither spoke and Einar turned away, watching the five men who were now almost done with the task they should have been done with long ago.

“You’re right,” Osvif replied almost a minute later. “I keep thinking I’m not worthy because I’ve compared myself to you… Compared to those idiots, I’m way better.”

Both men began to chuckle and the tension vanished in a moment.

“That my friend you are… Now then, some of us have things to do beyond giving a whining bitch a kick in their ass.”

***

“That’s a lot of spears,” Hogni said as he tightened up the last rope holding the weapons down. “Do you expect us to use this many?”

Einar tucked the end he had tied off in the satchel and fastened it shut.

“Yes… those tips are designed for this creature. Nothing else is going to do much against it. Slashing attacks won’t work and we’re not planning on charging it with a war hammer as that’s not going to draw blood. You, Geir and Bodalf are going to have a large role in this fight. Each of these spears needs to penetrate the scales and make it bleed. This isn’t a battle won in a single moment.”

“You mean you’re not going to kill it for us?”

Scoffing, Einar could see the smirk on Hogni’s face as he tucked the rope into the pouch on his side of the cart.

“Perhaps, but eventually the rest of you have to do something.”

“That takes all the fun out of this. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a few last things to finish up on my list.”

Letting the Viking go, Einar moved along the line of wagons, each one getting checked over and the last items to be added strapped down.

“Make sure that’s tighter!’

Approaching the middle wagon with a single ballista tied down in it, he watched as Varitan gave directions to the elves that were helping.

“Ahh Einar, glad you made it. Did you see the chains Salihn provided?”

“I did. They look like they should hold but there is only about forty or fifty yards in total length. That doesn’t give us a lot of room to play with.”

“According to Osvif, we aren’t going to have a chance if the beast doesn’t get that close,” the elf replied, turning his attention away for a moment.

“I said, tighter! You can’t have that kind of slack!”

Both men watched as the workers obeyed the instructions, using pulleys and brakes to get the ropes how Varitan wanted.

“Lyeneru is in the front, working with Thorodd and getting things prepared there. She said you were okay with the list of what Shael wants from the corpse.”

No but I don’t have the power yet to argue for everything…

“It will work. For now, we’ll just focus on pulling this task off and trying to not die in the process.”

“Though this would be a good death.”

Laughing, Einar nodded and slapped his friend before moving off for one last stop in the caravan.

“Thorve, please stop frowning at me like that.”

“You’re a bastard! I understand why this decision is made but still, you’re a bastard for making me stay back so far. You do realize how much growth I will be missing out on from not being closer.”

“And you also realize that if this shit goes south, we’ll all die and you’re the only one who can bring us back.”

Snorting, their healer nodded as she crossed her arms tightly.

“Still… I feel like I’m the one being punished.”

“Blame the gods, not me. Now then, how many healers do we have?”

“Two… I tried for another but I couldn’t get any more. Even with the number of elves joining us, they are very hesitant to commit their healers to this fight.”

She paused and glanced around them before leaning closer and whispering.

“They are impressed and amazed with how the last quest went, but if I’m honest, I think most of the elves believe they are going to die.”

Grunting, Einar had heard that rumor but ignored it.

“And your thoughts?”

Thorve bit her lip as she grimaced.

“I’ll live… the rest of you… only the gods can know. What you’re facing… no Viking has fought in so long. Even a giant would be easier if I’m honest. At least they wouldn’t be able to fly away.”

“And yet you still complain about being held back.”

“I’m a Viking. We don’t run from fights. But yes, eventually you’re going to need another healer and when that time comes, you better not put them in charge or I promise to always heal you last.”

He chuckled as she scowled at him.

“I’ll see what I can do. Now then, if you are good, I’m ready to set out. We’re only going to get half a day to travel with how long this is taking.”

“Don’t hurry to this fate,” Thorve warned him. “The fight will come and us getting there half a day earlier isn’t going to make things better. The boon is gone. We all, including yourself, get tired now. Do not forget that as I can see the bags under your eyes from staying up late every night and pushing yourself with your training.”

“You know I have no choice about it,” he replied. “If I can’t control and call upon that power everytime there is a need, what's the point of having it?”

“Listen to me and for once, please remember what I am saying as it appears you have already forgotten. The woman who taught you how to practice your wyrd use told you that lightning is impossible for most to control. Your fire ability has grown. Without fail it is there and it is powerful. Inside everyone is a fire and you have tapped into that flame.

“Lightning isn’t like that. That element is something that only gods can control. Tell me, does Thor walk around with a frown on his face all the time, shouting and yelling?”

Shaking his head, Einar already knew what she was going to say again.

“That’s right. He is one of the most fun loving gods, but he also has a passion for war. When that moment comes that passion and joy turns into a different kind of fury. His power isn’t based on how angry he gets. It’s who he is. You cannot try to control this power with pure rage alone.”

Gone was her frown and frustration from where Einar had told her she would not be allowed near the fighting. Now tight lips and a pained expression was there.

“Remember, Odin chose you to gather us all. It takes time to become the warrior you will be. In the meantime help shape the warriors beside you. Not every foe needs to die by your hands or we will lose if a battle comes and you are not there.”

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Einar nodded.

“You’re right. Thank you for the wisdom once more.”

She smiled and patted his arm.

“This means I can be near the fight?”

“Not a chance,” he replied.