Long ago, the people of the north, known as the Vesten, lived a very difficult life in a very harsh land. These were good people, and were protected by powerful gods. These gods knew how difficult life in the north was for their followers, so they gave them a culture that they knew would strengthen them to survive. These powerful gods showed them how to fight, and fish, to hunt and farm, and most of all how to rejoice and how to enjoy every breath in a life that could end at any time, swiftly and without warning.
But these gods also lived harsh lives. They had been embroiled in an eternal war with a race of giants. The All-Father had sacrificed one of his eyes to learn how this war would end. And learn he did, of a great battle called Ragnarok, where he and most of his children would die defending the world from this last surge of evil. The fates told Odin that Ragnarok was inevitable and could not be stopped. But the brave gods did not despair and swore their last dying breath to defend the world of man.
But a great change was coming, unforeseen by the fates, which would alter the future of the north men. A new religion was spreading across the world. Its promise of a better life without hardship and struggle quickly won over the Vesten homelands and spread towards their colonies in the west.. These last families that were faithful to the old ways held out for many years, but its tide would eventually engulf them as well.
As the years passed the old ways were slowly lost into story and legend. Without the faith of the majority the old god’s power began to fade, as all divine beings do. And the march of civilization left the gods and their war in the oblivion of myth. But unknown to the children of man growing up under the shield of the new religion, the final war was not stopped. Ragnarok was still coming.
Vestenmennavenjar: Weird Lake Ivethay Island 1658 A.V.
His boots crunched through the snow in a steady rhythm, and clouds of white billowed from his face. Although he had been running for hours he was not winded. He was quite used to this kind of exertion. He halted at a snow dune and peered around at his surroundings. He was not familiar with this part of the wood, but he was still on track with the path the old troll sage set him on. The Keep of Night had to be close by. The youth scooped a hand full of snow and held it for several breaths while the heat from his body quickly melted it. When it was water, he drank and cooled his dry throat. Two more handfuls of snow were rubbed on his bare arms, lest he overheat in this weather. He took time to adjust the fur trimmed skins of his vest, tighten the straps of his boots over his skin pants and set out again at a run.
Three score breaths later he caught sight of the top spire of the black stone keep. He approached in caution and stopped at a large tree to survey the keep. From his vantage point he spotted five hunched over men in shaggy bearskins.
“Wendol '' he mouthed soundlessly. The night god commonly made use of ‘the eaters of the dead’, especially in the realms of man where giants would garner too much attention. There were only five visible and wendol were stupid. He could tell by their gait and posture that they were complacently bored. The warrior made a wide circular arc down to the keep. He silently crept up on the one closest to the keep door and struck him over the head with one fist. The wendol quickly disappeared beneath the snow like a nail driven in mud. The warrior turned to the keep’s large wooden door and grasped the hinges. With a light tug the metal broke like icicles. The young warrior then opened the door, reversed it and slipped inside unnoticed, replacing the door behind him.
The stone of the entry hall was as black inside as it was without. Its features were barren, save for a few torches and a dark stair winding up the outer edge of the tower. He began to climb the tower, the dark stones giving him the feeling of darkness trying to smother him. After the first floor ceiling the stair was marked on both sides with walls. Whatever was in the center of the night tower, it was not accessible from this stair.
The climb seemed to take an eternity. The dark stone made judging the distance to the top practically impossible. Finally, the stair ended at a ceiling with a trap door. He placed his ear to the wood and listened. From the other side came the muffled growls and grunts of more wendol.
This was the only path forward and he had no idea how many wendol awaited him on the other side. It appeared the time of stealth and guile had ended. But just as he was ready to smash open the hatch and attack a faint ringing of a bell caused the wendol to stir. The warrior waited till all the grunting voices faded away and disappeared before he opened the hatch. Inside the room, on a white marble stand, sat his prize, a golden horn. Gjallarhorn, whose sounding will begin Ragnarok. This was his chance, to smash the accursed thing and end the threat of the twilight of the gods forever. He could save the gods and take his place among them forever. Then his godly might would run those slimy, greedy carls from his homeland forever.
He crept into the room and moved carefully to the stand. He slowly raised his fingers to grasp his prize. Suddenly the floor erupted in a shower of stone and scale.
“A lindwyrm!” he cried, as he was thrown back from the horn, the serpent beast between him and his goal. The wyrm snapped at him, venomous fangs seeking purchase on his flesh. it wrapped around his waist coiling over and over to squeeze the life from his bones. He was done for, unless his faithful partner arrived to administer aid to his predicament. “Tara! Help! The lindwyrm is crushing me to death.”
“Airk, I’m cold.” she said, shivering from on top of the rock where she’d been sitting for what seemed an hour.
She looked at the boy with annoyance as he rolled around in the snow, among the scattered stones of the ruins, with a rope wrapped around him. Her ink was getting too thick in the cold to write in her book and she needed to finish her runes before Ivethay ambushed her with another quiz. “Airk, let’s go back. I need to finish this and my ink is almost frozen.
Airk stopped struggling, his fantasy shattered by her unwillingness to play along. He stood up in the snow, letting the rope drop limply to the ground. He dusted the snow from his clothes and looked up at the blonde girl sitting cross legged on one of the largest stones. “Damn it Tara, you used to be fun.” he said, disappointed.
“I am too old for games anymore, Airk.” she sighed.
“You’re only a year older than me.”
“And here you are, twelve and still playing like a silly child.”
Airk stormed over to the stone and grabbed the bottom edge, “I have a destiny to train for!” The boy lifted up on the rock and although he strained, the rock rose and tipped the young girl into the snow.
“Airk Ivethayson,” she screamed, rising out of the snow, “if you’ve ruined my book I’m going to tan your behind!” she began tossing snow to the sides looking for her book. She was indeed mad but displays of his strength still did something to her. That stone had to weigh over a tonne, it would take ten strong men from the village to move it, but he lifted it with ease. She didn’t fear Airk, she couldn’t fear Airk. She didn’t understand what these feelings were but whatever he did to her at times like this, she wasn’t cold anymore.
Airk stood there in awe. Everyone on the island was afraid of Tara, especially when her violet eyes burned in anger. Ivethay told her her eyes were a sign of prophecy. Ever since she was eight Tara had dreams that came to be. The villages on the Island feared her. Everyone loved good news, but when you gave people ill omens they tended to feel you were the one doing it to them. No one talked to Tara anymore. No one was willing to risk bad news anymore. Even Ivethay’s other children never wanted to be near her these past years. Airk and Tara had only each other, they were like siblings, but shared no blood. Ivethay took in children left by the lake shore, when no one else wanted them, or couldn’t take care of them. Foundlings, she called them. Ivethay’s children didn’t always know why they ended up there ultimately, but in Tara’s case it was easy to assume whoever left her there had greatly feared her. Airk feared her too, in a way. He was not afraid of her or her magical eyes, but what he was afraid of was making her disappointed in him. Tara had always been there, when he was sad, when he hurt himself, when he was scared at night. To Arik, her eyes weren’t scary, they were beautiful, warm and welcoming, they were home to him.
“Don’t just stand there like a stone,” she snapped at him, “help me look. This is your fault anyway.”
Snapped out of his thoughts that were deeper than he was used to, Airk plowed through the snow, disappearing under the blanket of white. When he didn’t surface for a minute Tara began to worry. Suddenly the boy exploded from under the snow, the book held aloft in one hand.
Tara grabbed the book out of his hand, immediately turning it upside down, holding it by the two covers to shake the snow out before it melted and caused her ink to run. “Why were you down there so long?” she asked while shaking the book.
Airk held up his other hand clutching the ink bottle. “Had to find your ink.” he panted, trying to regain his breath. The quill was still frozen into the bottle. “At least none of the ink spilled.”
She took the bottle from him as he stood up and wrapped her arms around him letting him bury his face in the front of her coat.. She laid the side of her face on top of his head, and realized her head, which she used to be able to lay flat against the top of his was at an angle now. He was catching up and would probably be taller than her soon. The girl closed her eyes and sighed. However will she ever manage to keep him in line then? After a minute she said softly, “thank you, Airk. Let’s go home and thaw my ink then. It might even still be usable.”
Ten Years Later: Port Town of Soroya, West Coast of Vestenmennavenjar.
Gretta moved gracefully in and out of tables, carrying mugs of mead despite the ample curves on her diminutive frame. She had gotten lots of practice at it, seven years ago her parents put her to work in the tavern at the age of 10. It had gotten too hard on her mother to handle serving at her age, so she managed Gretta and the other two girls her mother hired from the village. After all, Gretta’s two older brothers were certainly not going to work out as waitresses. They had gotten jobs on the docks unloading the ships that brought goods to and from all of Vestenmennavenjar. The same boats that brought sailors into her parent’s tavern, The Mead Maiden. They came to see her, as much as they came to buy drinks, so she dressed for maximum impact. Her fellow barmaids, Holly and Burta were both skinny enough to be boys in dresses. But Gretta had never been svelte, so her mother taught her to accentuate her curves with short, flowy skirts and low dipping tops. She spent a lot of time each morning tying her red hair into complicated and pretty braids. And for all her trouble, the sailors didn't usually even bother to bathe before they came sniffing after her. Her parents had all but served her up to these lusty smelly men on a platter to, as her father said “better the business". So she danced through the tavern with smiles and winks, and the men kept coming back to her family’s business, bringing their Guilders. And Gretta waited for some rich Jarl, a Vesten term for someone of noble birth, to somehow end up at their little Tap house. She would even settle for a rich merchant, known as a Carl. And all they’d have to do is fall for a pretty and plump little redhead and rescue her from her life of booze, catcalls and gropes.
The door opened once more and Gretta felt her heart pound. Airk had to duck to get in the doorway and then he stood there in his leather pants and boots, bare chested with his vest open, she imagined just to tease her. Braided red hair like hers to his shoulders and his beard trimmed neat and short. Gretta was willing to bet he bathed regularly too. The blonde lady that entered behind him was only a head shorter and was, disappointingly, always with him. The cold air whipping past her partially bare thighs from the door opening spurred her out of her fantasies and she hurried to the bar to get drinks for them. The pair had been coming here for the last month and Gretta certainly remembered what Airk liked, so he didn’t need to order as far as she was concerned. She had taken the opportunity on several occasions to chat them up and found they were from Ivethay Island, miles inland on Weird lake. And apparently the lovely blonde with him was his sister, or something like it, so her dreams still floated on high hopes.
Gretta set the tray down on their table, interrupting some conversation about a meeting. She managed to set the heavy tray with three tankards of her father’s honey mead down with only a soft thunk. Gretta looked at the blonde girl and stifled the shiver her strange violet eyes gave the barmaid, “we got shipment of wine in from Castille today Miss Tara, If you would prefer it to the mead.” She stood up straight with her hands clasped in front of her, respectfully. “I just remember you asking about wine when you first arrived and we had not restocked.”
Tara smiled at her warmly, “Thank you Gretta, but the mead is fine today. I think I’ve seemed to have developed a taste for your father’s brew” and she passed the barmaid four Guilders.
She controls the money, thought Gretta, wishing she could be a strong independent woman like her, not beholden to her family like a servant. She glanced embarrassingly at Airk and realized if she wanted him to take her, she had to try to be one as well. She steeled herself to try once again to work her charms on him. Gretta slipped quickly onto his lap, taking hold of one of his dozens of tiny braids and twirled it around her finger. She laid her head on his chest and sighed, “oh Mister Airk, would you please take me away from this horrible life.” She looked up at him and fluttered her eyes, “our children will be so beautiful,” she sighed, indicating their shared hair color. It was brazzen and forward, and she was basically throwing herself at him to talk of her bearing him children. But she was desperate, and she had no idea how long they would still be in her village if they were talking about meetings.
Airk smiled down at the soft little girl. He looked over at Tara to see her stern expression and the smile faded away in a blink of an eye. He turned a soft gaze to the bar girl, “Gretta, you are surely the most adorable girl I have ever met, and would be a prize wife for even a king.” He picked her up off his lap effortlessly and set her back on the tavern floor. He still had to look down from a seated position to take in her lovely blue eyes as he put forth an apologetic tone. “But the places where we travel are filled with dangers known and unknown, and I couldn’t drag you along, placing a beauty of your worth in peril. I could never live thinking I was risking your safety.”
Gretta pouted with her bottom lip and nodded, returning to her duties. When she had departed and Airk had turned back to the table Tara was still eyeing him. Her arms were folded and she wore the same expression she did when he had made a mess.
“I will never understand why women continue to throw themselves at an oaf like you.” she shook her head, tossing her long blonde braid back and forth across her back. “Though I understand even less why you continue to turn them away.”
“My heart is not mine to give.” he grinned at her, prompting a groan from Tara.
“Anyway, I have information on a Vaticine priest on the hunt for a divine artifact.”
“And how does this concern us?”
“The artifact in question,” she said, “is a horn.”
"Gjallarhorn?" He whispered.
"The priest claimed it was the Horn of the Prophet he was after. Capable of summoning angels from heaven or the next Prophet, or something." She explained with a wave of her hand. "He was not looking for sailors because he contracted a pirate captain named Thomas Bellacourt and his three ships. Bellacourt’s crew is fixed so I couldn't get us on the manifest. They are getting ready to set sail from Costa for Montaigne to pick up a journal that leads to the horn."
"So we need to find a boat we can use to follow them." Added Airk.
She gave him a hard stare, "thank you Airk, I hadn't considered that," she added sarcastically.
Airk sighed and cast his eyes down at the table. "Sorry, no of course you thought of that already." He looked up with feigned sheepishness and attempted a smile. She simply returned a cold stare. "Fine, I assume you have a plan already, then."
"There is a Carl in Vendel, we can try to get him to finance a pursuit. But we'll have to convince him it's worth it."
Airk groaned, "we don't need the help of one of those greedy bastards."
Tara sat back and crossed her arms again, "yes I know you hate them. I'm well aware you consider them to be encouraging our people to cowardly ways that don't involve facing down armies and dying a good death so you can sit your ass in a hall and drink yourself stupider with our ancestors for eternity. But, we are almost out of money and they have it in spades. We do need their help."
A yelp from Gretta pulled their attention from the debate. It seemed one of the sailors had seen her on Airk's lap and decided to pull her onto his in some drunken sense of fairness. The small redhead struggled and swatted at the man attempting to extricate herself from his clutches.
"Come on love, I gots a bunch more coin if you gots more than drinks for me." He slurred, chuckling at the cleverness of his own joke. His five friends at the table guffawed loudly at the struggling barmaid whose face was becoming as red as her locks.
"Sir, I'll have you know just because the drinks are for sale does not mean that I am!" Spat the barmaid.
Airk stood up quickly, sending his chair across the floor. "Airk no!" Gritted Tara through her teeth in quite an unquiet whisper. "Airk she can handle herself." But he was already crossing the room. To make things worse she had seen this fight last night.
Gretta had managed to remove herself from the man's lap by the time Airk reached the table but his ire was already up. He stepped between her and the rowdy sailors, “it appears she does not appreciate your advances, maybe you should let her be.”
The man stood and looked Airk up and down, “just because you’re big don’t mean you can get in my way, pretty boy. Mayhaps you need to be gifted some manners.”
The half inebriated man pulled back for a swing that Airk caught easily and used it to toss the offensive man across the tavern to the door. Rapidly sobering at that sight, his compatriots rose from their seats. Grasping his chair, one of the men swung it at Airk, prompting the large man to raise his forearm to block and the chair shattered across the muscled arm. Airk grasped the startled man by his collar in one hand and hurled him over at the man bearing down on him from his other side. The two men’s heads collided with a loud crack and they crumpled to the floor. An elbow from Airk left a third man out for the rest of the fight when the first man returned from the entryway to leap onto Airk’s back. Airk reached up to grab the man by the back of his vest and flip him hard down onto his table. The table gave way with a crunch as he punched through the shattered table and he hit the floor unconscious. The fifth man, having seen enough, attempted a run for the door only to catch a forearm to the throat and be slammed to the floor as well. The last man fished out his pistol and prepared to level it at Airk only to find an ax blade under his chin.
“Now this was just a friendly brawl,” flowed the beautiful voice of the blonde woman behind him, he could see the flash of violet eyes as she stepped around into his view from his side and his blood ran cold, “you go pulling weapons out and you are just begging to turn it into a bloodbath.” Tara eyed Airk nervously, she never found out if he was bulletproof, but she was unwilling to risk trying that fact out now. Luckily, the sharp ax blade at his throat was able to reason with the man and he dropped the flintlock. Tara snapped her arm as she rotated the ax in her hand smacking the flat back of the ax against his head. He crumpled like the rest of them.
Airk was wearing a broad, toothy grin when Tara stomped over to him to reach up and grasp his ear between two fingers and her thumb. He winced as she pulled his head closer to her level and began to drag him toward the door. “I told you not to cause trouble. I said we had to stay away from attention.” she said through gritted teeth. She tossed her coin pouch to Gretta as they passed, “I’m so sorry Gretta. That should pay for the damages.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
She continued berating Airk as she hauled him outside, leaving a confused barmaid wiggling her fingers in goodbye and mumbling, “It's ok miss Tara, and thank you mister Airk.”
Tara drug Airk out into the snow covered square and no less than fifty paces away from the door to the tavern before she let go. She turned to look at him furious, “you just had to have a fight. You couldn’t go a day without punching something. Was that even about protecting Gretta, or giving you your daily tussle? Considering she had gotten away from him before you got there I’m thinking the latter!”
Airk knew not to try to interject into her pauses, short as they were, and let her yell her anger out. “Yes, it was about Gretta,” he said calmly and slowly, when she had stopped for a breath. “Just because she got out of his hands doesn’t mean he won’t try it again. They needed a lesson.”
“And did you stop to consider what your ‘lesson' cost us?'' She countered “That was the last of our money! I had to pay for the damages you did. Not them, you!” she yelled with a demonstrative shove on his chest that did no more than scoot her back a foot from him.
She turned away so as not to have to look at him as she knew he was trying to give her his puppy dog eyes she knew worked too well on her. She paced back and forth in the compacted snow of the town square, when she heard him trying again to be helpful, “We could barter passage. We both know how to sail and you can offer the sled trick.”
She stopped pacing and looked at him finally to see the look on his face begging for approval. “You want me to do the rune trick I used on our childhood sled on an entire sailing ship?” she sighed and held the bridge of her nose. “I’m not sure I can even do that, Airk.”
“I am,” he said, trying to be reassuring, “you can do anything, you’re amazing.” he tried to wrap his arms around her only to have her wave her arms frantically, trying to bat him away.
“Fine,” she relented, “let’s find a ship sailing to Vendel as soon as possible.”
They found a ship headed to Vendel and it was supposed to be leaving within the hour but was behind schedule in loading the cargo. They met her captain in a nearby bar trying to take the sting out from his ruined schedule with a little rum. Tara was able to barter passage based on not only Arik completing the loading, but on her being able to let them get there by morning instead of in a week. The captain, who introduced himself as John Heratio, laughed at her boast, “Missy, I’ll take that bet because I’d love to see that, either of those feats.” his good natured face narrowed, “But if ya can’t,” his gaze was obviously taking in her beauty, “then you will be personally serving me my… meals the whole journey.”
Airk stood up, as the pause in his counter offer was a little too suggestive for his taste, but Tara’s hand on his stomach got him to sit back down before he ended the good captain. “Captain Heratio, you have a deal.” Tara smiled back.
The crew on the dock had only loaded half the cargo and supplies when they arrived. As they walked up to the ship they noticed six familiar faces battered, bruised and not too happy. Tara shot Airk an accusatory glance and whispered, “Great.” She stopped him with a hand on his stomach and said in low tones, “just get the ship loaded, I have to mark the mast.” and at that she turned and walked up the gangplank past the unhappy men without glancing at them.
Airk turned the other way toward the dock and the angry eyes followed him. “We needs to make him pay, don’t we Cutter?” whispered one of the men to the sailor that had manhandled Gretta.
“No, Joey,” Cutter said, keeping Joey from going after Airk with a hand on his shoulder. “We don't need no trouble from the Quartermaster. We wait till we’re at sea and we get Borick to take care of him.” This incited a roll of laughter from the group of battered men.
Airk strode up to the already loaded platt and grabbed a guide rope hanging from the side of it. The red haired man then strode up the gangplank, rope in hand and pulled the load to him, which usually took four to five men to move, until it was over the cargo hatch. Airk dropped down into the hold as it was being lowered and pushed the entire load over to where it was to be unloaded. But instead of moving each barrel, box and crate off one by one, Airk tipped the platt up toward the wall and shoved the whole load off the wooden square with one hand. In the space of three minutes Airk had done thirty minutes worth of work. Airk made another four load trips after that, and between him and the three loads from the crews on the other hoist the ship was loaded within the hour.
Tara had finished marking the Stort Merke Rune for Time on the ship’s main mast while everyone was watching Airk load the ship practically on his own. She now stood next to the awestruck captain as Airk finished his last load. “If I hadn’t seen it myself,” he gasped.
“My brother has a unique strength, always has. Now, that’s half our wager, Captain.” she smiled at him. “Do you wish to concede now and avoid further embarrassment?”
John Heratio looked at the blonde lady with scrutiny, “nay, fair lady. Loading a ship fast is one thing, but going from Soroya to Vendel in one day is a whole ‘nother thing.” he winked at the blonde, “and I look forward to seeing your beautiful face serving me for the next week.”
The pit of Tara’s stomach soured. She had to pull off this trick with the rune or she was at the mercy of the captain. She was confident she could handle him if he decided serving him meant more than waitressing, but she was genuinely afraid of what Airk would do if he found out the man had attempted anything. She did not want to swim the rest of the way to Vendel if Airk decided to take it out on the whole ship.
The ship cast off and raised its first sail, maneuvering out of port toward the open sea. as they hit open water the captain barked the order for full sail and the crew bounced into action. Sails unfurled and ropes were tied off, and the Divine Wench cut through the waves at her full speed, its figurehead of a busty serving wench swimming through the split waves like a mermaid. If Tara didn’t know better she would swear the carving bore more than a passing resemblance to Gretta.
“ So missy,” the captain chuckled as he approached the bow where she and Airk watched the progress of the ship, “we are officially underway and you have twenty four hours to get us the week long trip to Vendel or you and I will be getting well acquainted over the next six days.”
Airk whispered in her ear, “you can do this Tara,” as she walked to the aft castle and turned to face the main mast. The blonde girl took a deep inhale and pulled her ax off of her back. She reached into her pouch on her skirts and pulled out a tiny clay tablet with the Liete Merke for her time rune and the rune for her name carved on it. She palmed the tablet in her left hand and grasped the ax over her head, Tara lined up the mast and flung the ax, and just as the blade dug into the wood cleaving the rune in two, she snapped the tablet in her hand activating the runes simultaneously. As the magic of the rune spread, the ship lurched, the sun slowed down in the sky and the shoreline of Vestenmennavenjar sped by faster than any sailor on board had ever seen. Just as the next coastal town came into view off the port bow it was fading away from the stern.
“Damn!” Cursed the captain, realizing he just lost his bet and possibly any chance at his reward.
The crew went about their work, which proved harder than usual as they tended to sometimes get their gaze lost in the blurring sea and shoreline as they traveled. Mr Blake, the Quartermaster kept snapping at sailors that gawked too long at the passing scenery and keeping them on task. As night set they were already a third of the way to their port and Tara was still standing on the steps to the forecastle. As the chill air whipped by her from the Wench’s fast travel, she felt a blanket wrap itself around her. she nearly jumped from fright just before she recognized the strong arms of Airk through the cloth. “You should lie down and get some rest.”
“I can’t,” she whispered back, feeling the exhaustion trying to sap her will to keep from just falling back into his arms and blissfully closing her eyes. “I have to maintain the rune’s energy or the Liete Merke will activate and we will have lost half the ship’s speed for the rest of the trip. You know the runes demand a balance.”
“You require balancing too.” he whispered softly. “Here.” he said as he sat down on the stairs, lifting her wrapped body up and setting her on his lap. He held her arm up toward the mast, letting some of the ache drainaway from holding it stiff this whole time. “I am sorry I caused this mess, and that I am putting you through this strain to fix it.”
“Like usual,” she said sarcastically, but it was only half-hearted. she laid her head on his chest, though it was dangerous to get too comfortable lest she fall asleep.
“We really have to stay up all night then?” he asked.
“Yes, I do at least.” she said, with almost a chuckle, “at least I won’t dream tonight.”
“Then I am up all night too. I’ll not take advantage in a sleep you are denied.” he kissed the top of her head lightly, and although she knew it was dangerous not to discourage his affections, she could not bring herself to complain over it tonight.
Below deck a group of men had gathered to discuss the two strangers aboard. Six of them had tangled with the pair before and were more than happy to add kindling to the bonfire of unrest.
"I tell you its sorcery," inserted Cutter, "it's not somethin' decent sailors ought to be party to. We need them off this ship before somethin' occult lands on our heads."
"How? You seen what he can do, and I can't even fathom what it is she has done to the ship."
"Easy," smiled Cutter, "we already have grievance, we have him defend their honor, and then Borick takes care of him for us."
The men grunted and chuckled in agreement, looking over their shoulders at a large figure looming at the back of the hold.
The night crew kept the unnaturally fast ship on course over the night and by day break they were rapidly closing on Hoppe Channel and the Port of Vendel. The day crew were repairing to take charge and were amazed at how a trip they usually took a week to travel was already complete.
When the day crew were in place Captain Horatio barked, “prepare to drop to half sail!”
“No!” yelled Tara. “If we slow we break the rune’s Stoat and the Liete takes over. We need to get as close to port as possible because the ship will only move at half her speed for the rest of the day afterward, no matter how strong the wind blows.”
“We can’t take the Channel at this speed, the rocks will tear us to shreds if we try,” argued the captain.
"Keep the ship at full sail," said Airk, "leave the rocks to me." And he headed to the bow of the ship. He passed a young boy in the crew and stopped. "Come with me."
"Airk, what are you planning?" Asked Tara, to deaf ears.
The boy was just learning to sail, but he was quick and eager. As they made it to the front, Airk turned to the boy. "What's your name, lad?"
"Yofer, sir." Said the boy.
"Yofer, climb up in the rigging and call out to me which side the rocks are on." Said Airk as he uncoiled one of the ropes on a block and tackle.
"Where will you be?" Asked the boy as Airk wrapped the rope around one hand and leapt over the railing. As soon as Airk jumped off the boat the Yofer scuttled into the fore rigging.
Airk hung by the arm in the rope a few feet above the waterline, his feet braced against the side of the boat. The captain peered over the side to see the big man dangling as the rocks of the Channel sped at the ship. "Your brother is going to get himself smashed." He said to Tara.
"Stupid oalf, you better be careful." She muttered struggling to maintain the rune's effect on the ship.
"Port!" Yelled Yofer.
Airk watched the rock jutting out of the waves as it rapidly closed on the bow. At the last moment he pushed his feet out to the rock, braced his back on the ship and shoved with his legs. The bow of the ship rose out of the water and pitched to the right. As the rock receded away from the ship Airk spun his feet back to the wood letting the front of the ship crash bak i to the sea in time to hear Yofer yell, "starboard."
Airk ran across the ship’s hull to the opposite side just as the next stone hurtled at the bow. Airk swung out to the rock with his knees bent, and when the wood of the hull ran into his back, he pushed with all his might. Again the ship’s bow rose, pivoted and fell back into the surf. Everyone on the ship was thrown to the left and grabbed whatever they could for purchase and Tara nearly lost contact on the rune. Again and again Yofer called out the positions and Airk moved the ship away from the rocks. The crew were being shaken around like a frog in a hatbox and Cutter had had enough. He positioned himself on the stair behind Tara and when the next jolt from the leveraged ship rocked the boat he used the shake up as an excuse to bump into the soft maiden, knocking her from the stairs. The ship slowed with a sudden jerk and everything onboard was thrown toward the bow. Tara grabbed the handrail and rolled over top of it, letting Cutter fly sprawled out and land on the deck face first.
The blonde Maiden stalked over to Cutter and put a boot in his side. “Idiot, your clumsiness cost us our speed.” She then strode over to the mast and retrieved her ax, racking into the holder on her back behind her small shield. She stepped up next to the captain, “I’m sorry Captain Horatio, we have to move at a snail’s pace now. The rune must now extract its price.”
The captain looked out at the approaching port. They were at full sail but the ship moved as if the sea only had a mild breeze to give them. Even the tide at this time of day should be moving them in faster than they were traveling. “It's fine, Missy.” he said, straightening his coat and hat. “You still gave us days ahead of our schedule, a few hours doesn’t negate our bet.” He put out his hand to let the Vesten maiden shake and seal their wager.
She had won and Vendel was a mere hours away. The priest would still be leaving Costa behind him. She hurried to the bow to check on Airk and found him already on deck making his way to her. she had barely made it to him when exhaustion pulled her legs out from under her. He caught her in his arms and scooped her up.
“Put me down, I’m fine.” She argued weakly.
“No, you are not,” he said. “We have a few hours till we make port. You can sleep till we dock.” he carried her to the cabin the Captain had assigned her, which she hadn't even seen yet. Yofer held open the door for them and closed it after standing guard outside like a soldier. Airk set her on the bed and removed her boots and coat. He laid a ship’s blanket over her before turning to remove his vest. before she could close her eyes she saw the red marks and purple blotches on his back. She sat bolt upright, sleep forgotten, “You big oaf, you did get yourself hurt.” She slid off the bed and poured water from a pitcher into a basin. She grabbed the basin and a rag and made him sit on the bed. Tara sat behind him and soothed the scrapes and bruises with the cold cloth.
“I’m fine Tara.” he protested.
She smacked him hard on the back causing him to wince and suck in. “That doesn’t sound fine to me.”
“I meant I'll be fine.” He countered. “all this will be gone by tomorrow.”
She continued to soothe his back, “thank you, by the way. For getting us through the rocks.”
“Anything for my Shield Maiden.” he said with a big smile back at her.
“I’m not your Shield Maiden, we have sworn no oaths.” she retorted with a half smile.
“You may not have,” he said softly, “but I have made plenty to you.”
“Airk, Why?” she said, tossing the rag into the bowl. and setting it on the table next to the bed. “Why do you not just pick one of the hundred maidens that fawn over you wherever we go? They wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.”
He took her chin in his hands, “None of them are you.”
She slapped his hand away, “off the bed.” she waved him from the mattress. “You wanted me to sleep, I’m going to sleep. Get off.”
He got up, covered her once again and sat down in the chair next to the bed. She turned to face the wall away from him, where he would not see her smile, because he chose her once again over any woman on Theah.
The Captain felt like the crew were two steps from a mutiny. “What has sperned this on?” he asked. “We are in Vendel almost a week ahead of our charter. That is all profit for us.”
Up front of the crowd was Cutter. “You brought us here so expediently with sorcery. Sorcery is bad luck, every sailor knows that. Using it always brings something dark and occult down on your head. Already we move at a snail's pace in high wind at full sail. How much more will we suffer for blasphemous methodology?”
John Heratio sighed, ”what would calm your nerves about the method we arrived at our destination?”
"A duel. To satisfy, if they belong." Cutter smiled that slimy smile of his. "The big man against our righteous champion. And after we have disposed of him, his sister, well we can surely find some uses for her afterward, I'm sure."
"You mean to use Borick on him, don't you?" Horatio's stomach turned. Borick was a monster, sure he could move cargo like no one he knew. Well, no one till he met Airk. But the few fights he knew the Ussaran had been in were vicious. He delighted in disfiguring, maiming and permanently injuring his opponents. John remembered the only time he had ventured down to the room, at the stern where Borick slept. He never took shore leave. In fact he seemed to never leave the hold. He just spent his free time catching the rats. The captain was sickened by what Borick did to the rats he caught. "You're a sick bastard, Cutter." The tone was the sound of Horatio conceding, reluctantly.
She had been asleep only an hour, with thankfully no dreams he could tell, when the knock came. Airk cracked the cabin door to see the captain standing there with his hat in his hands.
"We have a bit of a situation." He said with visible trepidation.
"He can come in." Said Tara, without turning over. "They're coming for you."
The captain slipped in the room and Airk closed the door. "I am so sorry. I have no problem with you all, personally but the crew is in a fever over what you've done. They say it's sorcery. And they won't bide being a part of blasphemy. Another member of the crew has been stirring them up."
"It's the man from the tavern," said Tara, sitting up now and putting her boots back on. "The one who accosted Gretta."
"Cutter," added captain John. "He has a way of getting under people's skin."
Tara shot a glare at Airk reminding him that he had set this in motion. "They plan on making you fight." She said, garnering a stare of amazement from the captain.
"Well," chuckled Airk, "no worries then."
"The man they have you set to face, Borick, is a sadist, a peculiar kind of killer." Horatio couldn't face them as he delivered this news. "He's from the barrens of Ussura, and he's a monster."
"I can be a bit of a monster too." Said Airk, just before getting an ineffectual punch in the arm from Tara.
"You'll be what I tell you. You are Airk Ivethayson, and I say you're a hero, not a monster, not a killer. Am I clear?"
"Yes ma'am." He said stoically.
"I have just come from the meeting with the crew." said the captain, nervously. "How do you already know about this?"
"I dreamed it, just now" said Tara, sadly. "And there's no stopping it now."
They all left the cabin, even though Horatio tried to get Tara to stay behind. He told her below deck was no place for a lady, and he couldn't guarantee her safety amongst the crew in such tight quarters. She refused and simply took Airk's arm, and walked with him to the stairs that led down to the hold. The entire off shift crew were gathered around the edges of the hold. As much cargo as possible had been shifted to make an area down here for the fight. Cutter stood inside the ring as they broke through the gathered crowd.
"Friends," began Cutter, already in full showman form, "we are here today to pass judgment on these outsiders accused of bringing sorcery into our midst."
"Gardr isn't sorcery, it is a gift from the gods." Said Tara calmly, but firmly enough to be heard over the din.
"And that, be heresy little miss, and blasphemy is just as bad." Smiled Cutter. "They will get the chance to defend themselves in honorable combat against our holy champion, Borick."
The man that stepped out from behind the crowd was even taller than Airk and he was broader too. Borick was covered in tattoos of holy Vasticine symbols. Tara remembered many of them from the churches in the larger towns. The man smiled menacingly.
Airk removed his fur lined vest, turned to hand it to his sister and kissed Tara on top of her hair, resulting in her usual 'stop it' look. "I have this."
"You had better." She whispered.
Cutter scuttled out of the way as the two giants made their way to the middle of the cleared out hold. Airk flexed his fists prompting a creaking sound from the bindings on his arms. He wrapped from his knuckles to his mid forearms in the cording Vesten wrapped the handles of heavy weapons. Thick and strong enough to stop a sword cut. He readied his hands in a boxer's position, "not too late to put this to an end before one of us regrets it." He quipped.
Borick swung hard in response but Airk blocked it with ease, jabbing the Ussaran twice in the abbs. The giant seemed to not even feel it. So surprised was Airk that Borick swun a left around and connected with his jaw. Airk's ears rang, and the Vesten stumbled back for the first time in his life.
"When he starts losing we need to get you to your cabin and lock the door." Said the captain in low tones.
"We appreciate your concern, Captain," was Tara’s reply, "but Airk has never lost a fight in his life. Not even against the bear."
"There is always a first." Horatio added, then asked, "Wait, a bear?"
Tara smiled, "were playing on the far shore of Weird Lake once when Airk was fifteen. A polar bear stumbled across us and thought we'd make a good meal."
"And he beat a bear," he watched her nod, not taking her eyes off the fight, "at only fifteen! Crap."
Airk pounded on the bigger man, but only succeeded in scoring body blows or hitting his arms that protected his head. It never took this long to finish a fight. Tara noticed Borick's arms and body were starting to show signs of bruising, yet he seemed to not be favoring any spot when he moved or swung.
"Shit," she swore. "He doesn't feel pain. That's why he can fight like he does." She yelled to Airk, "stop hitting the body, he can't feel pain, you oaf."
Just then Borick lunged. He grabbed Airk's arm and quickly twisted it behind his back. The Ussuran wrapped a meaty hand around the front of Airk's neck and bore down on him. Airk was forced onto one knee and the giant squeezed trying to crush his neck.
The roaring crowd went silent as Tara strode into the circle, walking right up to the struggling men. She looked Airk in the eye and said calmly, "I didn't give you permission to lose, did I?"
"No….ma'am!" He groaned, fighting for air.
She turned and walked away, saying over her shoulder, "if you die, you know what they will do to me."
Borick was almost giddy at almost breaking the big Vesten when he felt the vibration. A low growl erupted from the red haired man and rose in volume until it was a booming roar. Blue in the face, Airk pushed himself back up to his feet, the roar still echoing from a chest that should be breathless. Airk kicked the side of Borick's left shin and drove his elbow back into the man's chest. Shin bones snapped like twigs and ribs shattered like glass. Airk then dropped back into a crouch, letting the giant's leg give way and drop the Ussaran onto Airk's back. Airk pushed up with inhuman might and launched himself and the giant five feet off the floor. Grabbing Borick and flipping him underneath himself as they fell, Airk drove down on him with all his might as they hit. The wood floor let off a crack like a musket shot as reinforced beams and planking shattered under the impact sending both men into the bilge space below. Borick hit the exposed keel with the center of his back as Airk still drove down on him with all his strength. When Airk stood, Borick's back was curved in reverse and his eyes darted about, confused as to why he couldn't move.
Still seething, Airk leapt back up to the hold level and locked eyes on Cutter. He was attempting to flee, but the crowd barred his escape. Airk was on him in two strides. He lifted the man up by his neck, slammed his back into the outer hull and pulled back his right arm, fist clenched.
He felt Tara’s hand on his bicep, "Airk, no." She said softly, and the rage drained from him. While Airk still held the man against the wall, Tara turned to him and stated, "I have seen your death Mr. Cutter, and although it is not today, it is by his hand." She indicated Airk with a toss of her head. "Now this is your one chance to alter this course your life is on and prevent it, but you must give up this vendetta and walk away or he will not leave enough for your kin to claim when next we meet."
Tara turned and walked away, when her hand left Airk's arm he released Cutter, letting him drop to the floor curled into a quivering ball and smelling of piss.
He caught up to her on the deck staring out over the bow at the approaching city. He started to wrap his arms around her but she caught his wrists and put them back to his sides.
"What is our next leg on this journey?" He asked, a defeated tone sounding in his voice from her rebuff.
She looked out at the city, "we have to find a Castilian."