Holga’s van beat their terrifying war drums and screamed their terrifying war-cry as they stormed the battlements of the enemy’s camp. Within the hour they had figured out that the camp was only lightly guarded and within the next, they had chased the few men into the forests beyond. Holga’s warband, formed from the many border tribes of the Woods of the Wolves(1), had taken over the Athenian outpost that had halted their frontiers, since the old times, at the edge of the swamp.
They were hardy woodsmen, but they were untested in battle. However, within a few days, they had destroyed a royal palace, looted several riverbank villages, defeated professional Athenian soldiers, and captured an Athenian outpost camp. All of Holga’s seven chieftains had joined this expedition and all 7 of them had looted to their heart’s content. The sight of the goods, slaves, and prisoners marching lifted the morale and spirit of everyone in the warband - everyone but Holga’s Shaman.
Holga’s Shaman, the only woman in the warband of 3000, seemed at unease. A tall beautiful woman with golden hair yet drab clothes, she commanded fear from every man in the warband. She rode a giant wolf decorated with skulls of humans and the executioner’s blade. What was most noticeable about her, though, was the mark of a ram’s skull through her chest above her barely covered breasts. She rode up to the warchief, who was eating a breakfast of pig’s leg and bread and said, “Warchief Holda! Remember, our objective. The first child born under the gaze of the Northern Star at the year of the Shepherd must die. Lest my prophecy come true, and doom come to our father’s bloodline. The men are fat with loot and drunk on victory. What will you do?”
Holga continued eating and with a scoff he said, “We have won every time we’ve met the enemy. What fear do I have of these weaklings? You can rest easy.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
He looked at a man, crouched over some maps, and said, “Inga, tell the shaman of our plans.”
When he stood up, Inga stood a head above anyone else except the warchief and the shaman. Holda’s half-brother, and commander of the van, got off his maps and knelt before the shaman. He said, “Shaman Freja, we need to consolidate our men from the marshes. Seems there are fortifications up that hill. We will let the men rest up for tonight. We have only lost some 400 men so far, but many were injured from the fighting last night. At first light tomorrow we will assault their hill and break into the central plains. Per your instructions we will kill every child we find along the way to their cities. You must understand how important loot is to keep the loyalty of the chieftains. They are looking forward to looting the Athenians who have taxed them for so many years.”
As her wolf chomped on the pig bones Holda tossed at her, Freja said, “See that it is done. The blood of a child is dense with magic. Now, the blood of the child of prophecy has power enough to make us rulers of the known world. I will perform another ritual tonight to consult the gods. Send me the prisoners.”
Inga replied, “As you wish.”
The success of their attacks had come with frighting ease yet none but the shaman considered it odd. As Sturmaz, her mount, sniffed and started digging into the hay, Freja saw the dark slime. Then Freja, who had a scowl over herself all morning, smiled a wicked smile.
---Preview of the Next Chapter---
The trap is laid and the scene is set. The barbarian forces have pushed through the Snakemouth valley ambush and are chasing Alketas and his men. Exhausted, he has no choice but to make a last stand with his final companions - will this be the end of Alketas the Strong? Find out on the next chapter of From Fire and Blood ch7 - Alketas’ Attack!
-----Notes -----
1. Woods of the Wolves - Eastern Forests/Woodlands