Born a Monster

Chapter 177

Chapter 177: Servant of the Axe, 77 – Wooden Arrows

The warband consisted of the Jarl, his relatives, his thanes, and all the huscarl serving the relatives and thanes, for a total of twenty three warriors of mixed and varied weapons, all clad in steel over gambeson, with leather being optional.

Thorfyrd and I got to lug around the packs, and take turns on the worst of the wheelbarrows.

“Do you know what we’re hunting?” Thorfyrd asked me. “Is it the Fenris wolf?”

It was Victor Findseth who answered him. “Today, we hunt men. Last night, men from the Eiflund clan reported seeing the Fenris, and lured our jarl into foul ambush. Today, in the sight of the gods, we’re finding their damn tents and setting them on fire. Since they hit us with seven arrows, we’re taking seven of their women back with us. That should be fair.”

“Well, why not all of them?” Thorfyrd asked.

“Do you like meat on your table?”

“I don’t eat at the tables, yet.”

.....

Victor sighed. “Because most meat comes from the hunters, who are part of Eiflund clan. Much of the mutton? Those shepherds are Eiflund clan. They killed none of us, so we shall kill none of them. This isn’t about the killing, it’s about making sure they know to never try such tricks again.”

It was not so simple, for the Eiflunders had driven their sheep into the wood, and would engage in hit and run tactics, in teams of three and four. Their arrows were made entirely of wood, with fire-hardened points. They just shattered on the household’s armor.

There were uses of Flash Step, but always the clansfolk jumped over or under some piece of scrub, or a low branch, or slid down some defile. Pursuit was slowed by these obstacles, and the hand cart was not adequate for the terrain.

“Hurry up, we’re falling behind.” Thorfyrd said.

“Do you want to push the cart?”

“It keeps getting gunk in the wheel when I push it.”

It got gunk, meaning a mix of mud and leaves, whenever either of us pushed it.

There came a sound of metal on metal, and a barely human scream, prolonged and in pain.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Our chance to catch up.” I said. “Sounded like a bear trap.”

In irony, it was a wolf trap, and had already been removed from Olaf’s leg. His shin bled from both sides, but not quickly. I noticed the brown rust on the trap’s jaws, even as his men pulled off his boot, applied herbal bandages, wrapped the foot in cotton bandages, and put it back into the boot.

“Make for the river.” Sigmund said. “We camp in the forest tonight. You.” He pointed at me, “Gather firewood. I want enough of a blaze to illuminate any potential attackers.”

Sure, the wood axe was still in the green part of the condition meter. While they threw blankets onto the ground, I gathered wood from a dead tree, recently fallen by the river bank. They quickly had a fire going.

Dinner was whatever we had brought from the long house, which for Thorwyrd and I was nothing. I had built up enough biomass points to do without; Thorwyrd was whining until the first attack.

#

At the first attack, I got to see the clansfolk tactics up close. Their arrows were released at distance, many of them stopped by branches as they arced upward or downward. Their arrows weren’t aimed well, but rather seemed to be just carelessly in the area of the household warriors.

I rubbed my eyes, even as the warriors were lighting torches and heading off into the woods with torch and weapon to seek enemies. “Thorwyrd, what are you doing?”

“I’m searching for scraps of food. You get none.”

“That’s fair.” I said, rolling over. Someone walked up to me. A dark-haired someone. I sat up, yawned loudly.

They stuffed someone’s dirty shirt down into my mouth, and tied it in place with a leather strap. I sighted even as the woolen blanket went over my head.

“Help! Help!” Thorwyrd screamed, and began running. Someone had a faster movement rate than he did; I don’t think he even made it out of the camp.

“Light the firewood and throw their blankets into the edges of either fire.”

And then they carried us off into the night. How did they move with such speed and surety in the dead of night?

The point of Envy gain was negated by my Sin Armor. Dang it! I knew there were things that could penetrate it... no, no, focus. Being taken hostage.

Again.

Okay, I was now going to be in a camp controlled by the enemies of the man I wanted to kill. That was a good thing, right?

Or, given the type of arrows they were using, were they even trying to harm him at all?

Well, I would find out when I got to their camp. In the meantime, I could just... sleep.

They woke me by throwing cold water into my face. They had me seated with my back to either a large sapling, or a small tree. My arms and legs were unbound. Amateurs.

I smacked my lips together, and yawned.

[You have taken eight points of bludgeoning damage. After armor, two points of damage have been received. 16/30 health points remain.]

“Er? Ow? I mean... yes, yes, I’m awake.”

“Mouthy little shit.” Said the blonde with the club.

“Do you remember me?” said another, brown of hair and eye, and pale of skin.

“You were one on the hunt for the Fenris Wolf with Jacob Hoyland’s crew.” I said.

“Harek Bassus. You’ll want to remember that name, for I am the next jarl of this island. I am going to enjoy taking your women nightly, and maybe you as well.”

“I don’t think you understand what’s coming.”

“Oh, enough torture, and I’m sure you’ll tell me ALL the details I want to know.”

“Hah! Promise me you’ll kill them, and I’ll tell you everything I know about their statistics, skills, and abilities.”

“Tell me why I should believe a word of that.”

“Because I’m on two separate quests that require his death, and that of his cousin Olaf, and his brother Victor.”

#

He wanted details, and so I provided them. Not Igrun Sivert’s name, that would have endangered her needlessly. And I said nothing about Blackfur being female or having pups.

“And the gods speak to you, do they?”

“Not normally, no. They speak to the bear spirit known as Pongo, and he speaks to me.”

“Start torturing the other one.” Harek said. “This one is clearly insane.”

“At least get my information! Compare it to what he tells you.”

“Gag it. Gag it and drown it in the river. It’s insane, nothing of what it could say is of any significance to the rebellion.”

Rebellion? That implied an organization, resources, and some manner of procedures and a grand plan.

“I’d like to join your rebellion.” I said.

“Why is this thing not gagged and drowning already?”

They had nooses that ran through bamboo poles, which they fastened around my neck, and then two people held me underwater in the river.

Sigh. Amphibian. Lungs.

Oh, I thrashed. Frantic at first, and then slowing, and then... nothing. And nothing, and more nothing.

And by the gods, they waited almost two minutes before the nooses loosened, and they let me slowly drift downstream.

Slowly, and slowly... no blinking. Ugh. Playing dead was just BORING. And, at the lazy speed the river pushed me, it seemed that their camp just went on FOREVER.

Wait... This was the entire tent city. The entirety of the rural herders and hunters.

Men, women, children, herd dogs... everybody.

Not that they’d been the most affluent members of society, but what made an entire people rise up together in rebellion? Especially against armored warriors?

I don’t mean that sarcastically; I genuinely wanted to know. I thought if I could understand that emotion, that force, I could avoid ever ending up helpless again.

Because I think I understood the what of their plan; keep the warriors off balance, tired, and keep them from resting, and eventually they’d run out of either sanity or serenity, and be that much easier to kill.

And I could understand why, in a culture that killed families, they’d want as many of the household warriors together that they could manage. The more they killed out here, the fewer there would be defending the great hall when they attacked it.

And, if they could extinguish the Findseth family line, they might have a strong claim to making clan Eiflund the new ruling bloodline. At least for the time it took the city folk to summon their own army, led by their own ruler-candidate.

And so on, and so on... Or maybe they HAD put together their support network, and knew exactly what they were doing.

But I thought it unlikely, even before the first flames became visible from upstream.

#

Extract of belladonna, applied half an hour before they needed it. There is an infusion process, but that doesn’t belong here.