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FOUR - Longing and Regret

Magnus learns that wounds dont always heal on thier own.

"Wake up you lazy bastard" one of the raiders laughed as he kicked my legs and stirred me from my slumber. I came round slowly at first but soon rallied when I realised where I was and the danger I was in. "The Jarl wants to see you now that you have finished banging your hoar"

I opened my eyes suddenly and found that a pair of warriors stood side by side above me. The raiders large frames thankfully blocked out the sun I knew was hanging low in the sky behind them and they were both shrouded in a ground hugging blanket of mist that had descended on the village whilst I slept. Next to my cold body I could still feel the reassuring warmth of Esja as she also stirred from her troubled sleep.

"Get up Gethir" the man repeated, kicking me again. "And put some clothes on, you're not a fucking amazon".

Suddenly realising I was as naked as the day I was born, and that Esja was similarly non-attired, I tried my best to cover up her body with the remains of her dress and wipe away the thin layer of morning dew which had coated her fur. I clumsily got to my feet in front of them both and took a deep breath of the cool air, nearly reeling as I did so as I suddenly felt terrible. The wound on my shoulder flared with pain and my body felt so weak that I nearly fell to the floor in front of them both. "What about Esja?" I asked, putting on a false display of strength and refusing to be cowed into submission as easily as I had been the night before. Something in my threatening stance must have sparked a survival reflex in the one who had spoken to me because he stepped back slightly and almost drew his sword. "Kiarr will return her to the women. You are coming with me"

Esja sat up slowly with a groan on the ground next to me, pulling the dress around her naked breasts and legs. "You promised that you would free us" she stated groggily.

"We promised you nothing hoar" the warrior's friend called Kiarr replied quickly. "But the Jarl did and that should be enough for the likes of you. So get to your damned feet and put your tatty rags back on. Your family is probably worried about you and I wonder what they will think of you when they realise you spent the night enjoying yourself whilst they thought you were lying in a gutter somewhere or that you were being passed between the men like a cheap tavern wench"

"If you call her a hoar one more time I will rip your head off" I growled dangerously at the warrior and he seemed to be momentarily taken back by my threat but soon rallied.

"We shall see cub" he eventually chuckled back. "But you stand there, bollock naked, without a weapon and you think you can threaten me? You are clearly as crazy as Beinir thinks you are. Now get your clothes on and follow Kofri. The Jarl wants to speak to you"

"And if I refuse?" I spat back.

"Then I will gut you and ..." he looked down at the kneeling form of Esja and then back to me clearly heeding my earlier warning "...your woman""

Esja put her soft paw on my wrist, steadying me. She had always been the more sensible of us both and knew that if I pushed my luck any more it would be death of us all. "Just go Magnus" she told me flatly. "Please..."

Heeding her wishes I pulled on my trousers, fastened my belt and rammed my feet into my boots as quickly as I could in my weakened state. As I changed I was surprised to find that my manhood still burned warmly from my love making with Esja hours before. I was also very aware that both of the warriors watched me intently, clearly not willing to take any chances now that I had been allowed enough sleep to recharge some of my energy. In truth I ached all over from the previous day's physical abuse and my shoulder felt like someone had poured scalding water over it but I was not going to let any of the two bastards in front of me know that was the case. My false health was the only advantage I possessed at that moment and I was intent on exploiting it to its full. "Well?" I exclaimed when I had finished dressing in what clothes I had to hand.

"Follow me lad" the one called Kofri commanded. "And don't even think of trying to run. What the Jarl promised last night still applies and the women will be forfeit if you try and escape"

As I stepped off after the gruff warrior, I looked back over my shoulder at Esja's naked beauty, radiant in the moist cool air. She smiled bravely as she caught my gaze and I wanted nothing more than to run back to her right then and wrap my arms around her, placing myself between my young love and the situation we now found ourselves in.

But as I walked slowly away I think that part of me realised that we would never see each other again. For all I knew at that moment, I was following the one they called Kofri to my death and I was sure that Esja had come to the same conclusion. I knew this because, even in the gloomy morning light, my eyes were keen enough to notice two other details about the scene which put to bed my loves brave charade. The first was that Kiarr's armoured paw had slowly begun to move towards his sword hilt and the second was that tears had started to glisten around Esja's eyes.

I turned to run back but Kofri grabbed my shoulder and manhandled me easily back in the direction of the campfire. I didn't have enough energy in me to resist any further and, to this day, I am ashamed to say that I walked after him into the mist without another look back.

---

The village was eerily quiet as I was led slowly in the direction of the campfire. Unlike a normal morning, there were no men rising from their cots to go out and hunt and the blacksmiths shack was unoccupied and silent. Velkor would always rise just as the sun peeped its head over the horizon to stoke his smelting pits but today they were cold and the sight of my village as silent as the grave sent a shiver of fear running down my spine. Not even the birds which usually heralded daybreak called out their morning fanfares.

As we approached the campfire I was surprised to find that it had reduced itself down to white cinders indicating exactly how hot it had been burning only hours before. The pit still pulsed with heat and was warm enough that it could be felt from some distance. I resisted the temptation to find a bucket of water and douse the embers because I was sure that the raiders would simply leave them to be carried away on the wind, caring little if they then set the forest alight. The ground around the campfire was decorated with the bones of animals, the end of stick loafs of the kind that the village baker produced and discarded empty bottle of wine. It was scene of bestial revelry the likes of which I had never laid eyes on before and the stench of burnt meat, sweat, oil and wine hung in the air around the area like a noxious cloud.

Kofri, my chaperone and guard, was a tiger of only a medium build and moved with a slight limp in he left leg from what I assumed was an old battle wound. He was around middle age, maybe thirty five summers, heavily muscled and had all of the battle scars and dents in his arms and armour that I would expect from a seasoned warrior. I guessed then, correctly as it turned out later, that he was quite often underestimated as a fighter and enjoyed teaching his opponents the errors of their false assumptions.

He turned casually around on more than one occasion to make sure that I was still following him and every time he did so I managed to get a good look for the first time of the armour he wore. It consisted of thousands of dark metal rings connected to each other with such closeness that from a distance it looked like a single piece of sheet metal I had seen our blacksmith work with occasionally. Under the chain I could also see that he wore a thick padded coat, no doubt to soften the burden of wearing such an uncomfortable garment of metal. A conical shaped helmet which had two distinct front plates shaped like an owls eyes, sat tightly on his heavily furred head. Hanging from a strap over his shoulder, the large green round shield he carried bounced as he walked. Secured to his leather belt the warrior carried a menacing looking shortsword and short axe that glinted in the morning sun. "Stop dragging your heels boy and pick up the pace" he warned me as I followed him at a distance.

I ignored him and started to concentrate on the ever increasingly difficult task of putting one foot in front of the other. I was evidently more tired than I had thought. "Are you going to let the women go?" I asked weakly.

He didn't reply at first but when he did his voice was emotionless. "Most already are lad, why do you think the village was so quiet? Aye, we had a bit of fun with them after you left the party to bang your girl but the Jarl won't let us harm the women, just enjoy them". He seemed to think for a minute to himself before adding. "Well at least most of us do, there are some sick bastards like that Efi that view things differently".

"And the men?" I asked after he had finished talking to me. "What about them?"

"Ah, well that's a different matter entirely" Kofri responded. "Most we killed, some surrendered without a fight and some fled into the trees before we could catch them. Those that surrendered were mainly old men, your village elders probably, so we killed them as well. No man should live that old and become so frail you have to ask people to help you shit. It's not right..."

I followed in his wake like a ghoul from the children's tales, stunned into silence by his words. My father, the other village men, the elders and the teenagers that I had grown up and known were lying face down in a river according to Esja and this warrior seemed to care as little about the impact that might have on me as he would stamping on a fly that was annoying him. I tried to find the anger but couldn't, the news was too big and I was simply too numb.

He must have realised I was pondering his words because he seemed to mellow slightly. "In a few minutes you are going to meet the captain properly for the first time lad and if you have any sense in your head you will listen and take some advice from a man that has followed the Jarl for many years" he suddenly called out in the crisp morning air, knowing that I would hear him regardless of how slow I was moving. "Only speak when you're spoken to, show courage and by the god's boy, if you want to keep your head, don't ever lie to him"

"I might just stay silent" I replied petulantly, wishing nothing more at that moment than to be with Esja again, and if at all possible, inside her.

"You could try that" he laughed gruffly. "But if I remember rightly, the tactic didn't work out that well for you last night"

I rubbed my chin at his words and could feel the bruising which was starting to appear. Kofri was right. Silence was probably not the best stance to take right now, especially if I wanted to see Esja again alive. After all, I thought I was going to die last night and the Jarl had showed me a totally unexpected streak of mercy, maybe he wasn't as bad as I believed.

Kofri led me down the long, wide tree lined path for the five hundred yards it took to reach the patchy heaths that the forest gave out to. As we walked, the trees became less numerous and ground underneath my boots much sandier the closer we approached the beach. With every slow step from my aching legs I spent the time to observe the trees and thick vegetation which surrounded my village and suddenly understood how we were caught totally unaware by the raiders attack. Whilst they provided excellent shelter from the frequent and powerful tropical storms our lands encountered, the oak trees and thick vegetation also hemmed us in and provided the perfect cover for any approaching vessel to beach the shore totally unnoticed. How the elders of the village had never seen the critical flaw in their choice of location when they chose to build a village I will never know.

Kofri reached the rocky path which led us down to the beach a long time before I did and he turned to face me again, tapping his foot on the ground whilst he waited impatiently for me to catch up. When I finally reached him and looked down onto the shaled beach my eyes saw the massive and menacing form of the raider's ship for first time. At least thirty yards long from bow to stern and six yards wide, it sat half submerged in the surf, looking as much out of place on the shale as if a whale had beached in its place. Around thirty thick benches spanned the width of the vessel and I could see dozens of oars lay neatly down the centre line, flanking a large thick mast which was probably wide enough for my paws not to touch each other if I wrapped my arms around it. Held in place against the pull of the surf by numerous long and thick lines of rope pegged into the shore it was at the same time the most awe inspiring and dreadful sight I had even seen. A handful of armoured raiders milled around the vessel, some loading various cargo with the aid of a thick plank gang plank that reached from the beach to the lip of the ships rail whilst others gathered the vessels massive blood-red square sail.

"Remember what I said lad" Kofri warned me after letting me drink in my fill of the sight. "Or you will be crow food before the sun has reached its midday cycle. Do you understand me?"

I didn't hear him at first, so focused was I on the ship and its armed crew as they busied themselves.

"I said do you understand me?" he growled dangerously, bringing me to my senses again.

"I understand you Kofri" I responded flatly.

That seemed to satisfy him enough for the moment and he span round to face the ship once again, grunting as he did so. "Ho there!" Kofri bellowed and I was surprised to find that his voice echoed from the trees and rocks which surrounded the sandy cove. I had spent many an afternoon idly fishing the waters here but never knew that you could throw your voice from them.

A few of the busy figures stopped and turned in our direction, looking for the source of the shout. When the first of them had spotted us he raised his hand in recognition and shouted back. "Ho Kofri, get your ass down here and sort your sea chest out. We are rearranging the seating."

Kofri grunted again, a sound I would eventually learn meant that he was happy, and beckoned me to follow him. "What your footing here lad or you will break your damned neck and then the Jarl will probably cut off my balls".

I nodded to my guide and followed him down the path slowly, wincing as my legs struggled to keep me on my feet. My whole body was aching and it felt a lot like I was coming down with a fever of some kind but I gritted my teeth against the pain and took my time, judging each of the stones with more care than I ever had before. When we reached the bottom of the rocky path I had to stop for a rest and spit some of the dry blood and salt that crusted my teeth and lips to the sand. My chest and head ached badly. "Get up lad" Kofri said as he noticed I wasn't following. "Get up and keep on walking or I will beat you so hard that you will beg me to stop"

Wiping as much of the dripping saliva from my maw with a bloody forearm I took a deep breath and stood back up to my full height, immediately feeling dizzy as I did so. I continued walking for a few more paces and the felt so light headed that my left knee gave out below me and I stumbled.

Kofri stamped back over to my position and was about to deliver a stinging back hand blow to my head when he must have finally noticed my glazed expression and, to my surprise, instead of hitting me he put one of his heavy paws on my shoulder and hoisted me to my feet with as little trouble as if I were a small child. Placing his left arm around my back and resting my right arm over his shoulder he began to carry me another two hundred paces towards the moored vessel and its crew. "Someone give me a hand here!" he shouted.

I helped him as much as I could but by that point I could barely use my legs at all. Most of the strength had seemed to flee my body and despite being able to think clearly I just couldn't move. Every part of my legs, chest, arms and heart seemed to be burning like a raging forest fire.

Two of the figures broke away from the milling throng and ran to our position. At first they must have thought I was attacking Kofri because they came with swords drawn and clear intent on their faces to put me down right there and then. When they approached close enough to see what has actually happening though they sheathed their weapons and gripped my shoulders roughly, lifting my weight from Kofri who staggered free with a grunt. A couple more painful steps and we reached the side of their vessel where thrust me down sharply to the floor. "Ovden!" Kofri shouted when he joined us. "Come and see to the berserkir. He looks like shit. And someone else get the Jarl!"

I heard some heavy thuds on wood and guessed that one of the men that had been on-board the ship was called Ovden and when he leapt down to the sand and stood in front of me I recognised the smell first and the voice second. It was the same warrior that I had puked on the night before and who had prodded my head injury so roughly I had nearly passed out again. Even now, in the cool morning sea breeze, I could still smell the choking miasma of incense and blood which seemed to precede him. Ovden wasn't wearing any armour or helmet but even if had been it was clear that he was one of the smaller raiders, smaller still than Kofri. Unlike Kofri however, Ovden sported the longest beard I have ever seen and piercing, intelligent blue eyes which peered out from behind a heavily furred brow.

It was clear that despite his apparent health, Ovden was an old man; easily as old as the elders of my village if not older. But that is where the similarities ended. Whilst the elders of my village had carried their age like heavy chains binding them to the earth, Ovden carried his like a feather and his sprightly step was strange to watch in such an aged body.

He glared at me for a few, uncomfortable seconds and then leant forward to look at the wound on my forehead, clutching my chin and using it to rock my head in all directions to get a better inspection. Seemingly satisfied that all was in order he then took out his belt knife and cut away the strip of cloth that Esja had used to bind my wound. As soon as the makeshift bandage dropped away and he could see the cut clearly he stood up and ordered one of the warriors standing nearby to collect his equipment. The warrior jogged up the gangplank and disappeared from my sight.

"What's wrong with Gethir?" a voice boomed out from the opposite side of the vessel and my heart froze as I recognised the captain's voice from the night before. "I knew we shouldn't have let him have her all night, the bitch has worn him out!"

The men stood around me laughed at their captains words. All except Ovden who simply stared at me, eyes burrowing into my own. Such was the glares ferocity that it made me shiver and I can only liken it to being watched by an eagle. "His wound is inflamed" the old man finally exclaimed. "He is running a fever, that's all my lord".

"Let me see!" the captain growled and I could hear his footsteps on the pebbled beach as they approached to my left round the bow of the ship. The two warriors who had helped carry me then hoisted me to my feet and braced my back against their vessels thick wooden planked side, pinning me in place so that even if I did have any ideas of making an attack on their leader, which I can assure you was in my mind if not my body, it would be impossible.

I growled as threateningly as I could as the leader approached, his movement forcing the audience which had now gathered to part before him like waves around a prow. As the giant finally broke through the crowd and stepped forward to stand next to Ovden, whatever defiance I had left in me simply evaporated and I was silenced.

Standing directly in front of me stood the most frightening individual I had even laid eyes upon. Clad in black armour from head to toe and easily a foot taller than the rest of his crew I had yet seen, the captain projected a sense of barely constrained murderous intent and my bowled knotted just at the site of him. On his head sat a black great helm with large and lethal looking horns projecting out and upwards, giving him the appearance more like a charging bull than a tiger. The helmet had protective eye plates similar to the one that Kofri wore but instead of owl eyes the leaders were shaped like a scowling tigers. Below the helmet, a large but well-trimmed bushy beard, tied into three separate strands with thick black twine hid a good proportion of his upper armour from my view. Intricate inlaid gold patterns adorned his armour all over and tucked into his belt casually, the captain carried a large one handed battle axe, its head stained with the dark brown of dried blood.

The captain inspected the wound from a distance and dismissed it off hand. "It's just a flesh wound Gethir" the giant laughed as he looked down at me. "Nothing that should stop a demi-god such as yourself!" His words brought more laughter from the crew and even Ovden this time. "Ovden will stitch you up and before long you will be right as rain, which is a good thing for me and a shit thing for you"

"Why?" I asked groggily.

"Because thanks to your handiwork boy I now have a spare oar, and oars need strong arms to use them" The giant exclaimed and before I could respond he slowly raised his massive paws to his helmet and lifted it from his head, the sun instantly lighting up his dark features and revealing his face. I think I must have jumped with fright because the captain laughed at my discomfort as I finally saw him properly for the first time.

It was me.