However, his words hold little to no comfort. The Healer begins muttering more prayers to the Briny God for Avina’s protection.
Once they are away from the encampment, Sigvid turns a cocky grin on Avina, who angrily adjusts her saddle. “Care to share?” He raises an eyebrow.
“No.” Her firmness takes him so aback that the battalion is already trotting off into the mid-afternoon sunlight when he realizes she refuses to answer his question.
“What was the argument?”
She mumbles under her breath but still does not answer.
He drops the inquiry as their troops approach the cliffside overlooking the vast fjord. Between many dissenters in the Salt Army returning to Sigvid, the might of his Drengr, and the sheer numbers in Avina’s Timber force, Thrain’s force of ten thousand warriors faces its final battle.
He plans a grand victory celebration, followed by a trial for his brother’s misdeeds.
“Where are they?” Slode pipes up beside him as they confront an empty field.
“Calder!” Sigvid hollers, riding ahead of the calvary. “Plot east,” he lowers his voice, “keep your wits about.”
Tension fills the air as they restlessly await word on the position of their brothers in the Salt Army. The sun has hardly ascended further into the sky when the pounding of hooves jolts the group back to Calder’s return.
The young man is known for his coolness under pressure, so even Sigvid is shaken that Calder looks like he has seen a ghost.
“Briny God, boy, what did you see?” Kar barks atop his horse.
“Thrain’s Army.” Calder pants. “Twice the size of ours.” He shakes his head before addressing Sigvid directly. “Drauger.”
“What a load of horseshit! Think you’re funny?” Kar scolds.
Slode and Grim exchange an uncertain glance while Avina dismounts and places her hand on Sigvid’s shoulder.
“What does this mean?” She whispers.
Twenty winters ago, his father refused to comment after Thrain received his strange Sacred Stone ability. Only recently did Sigvid learnas to why. A coded section in his father’s journal revealed that the voice of the god who pronounced his brother’s power was not the Briny God. The voice was smooth, almost haughty. Then his brother summoned a fucking Ulv from the Abyss. An accomplishment one could only complete usingseidrfrom the Abyss.
Guardians have extensive knowledge of Treland and the gods. Sigvid understood that only someone with abilities directly tied to the Abyss can summon a creature dwelling there. At one time, their country had three patron gods, and a whopping ten deities graced the continent.
The decline is quite drastic, considering the six gods ruling the pantheon now.
Why this occurred or why an ancient god resurfaced to help Thrain take the throne is unknown.
“This is not a good sign, my little one.” He squeezes her hand and addresses his most trusted Drengr–Kar, Slode, Grim, and Avina. “Calder’s report is accurate. I believe my dear brother summoned this force from the Abyss.”
“What in all that is holy?” Grim shouts, stroking his textured locks.
Kar lights his pipe. “When I thought I had seen it all. Thord owes me a damn horn of ale when we meet in the Depths.”
Slode and Avina remain speechless, each preferring quiet reflection before adding their voice to the bunch.
Sigvid strokes his beard in thought. “If we kill my ass of a brother, that should send his drauger army back to the Abyss.”
“We are still down to twenty-five thousand men, Sig. If this drauger army is twice that…,” Slode shakes his head, “shit, there is no way we come out victorious.”
“Drauger can be defeated,” Avina adds. “But we can bypass this war. Sigvid, you know he needs me. Let me go to Thrain. I can save your lives and negotiate the protection of our people. We risk too much entering this battle.”
Over my dead body.
“I will not allow you to see that fuck head by yourself, and my brother will not negotiate. Not anymore.” He lights his pipe as he paces. “We need him to engage me in single combat. That way, I can kill him without losing all of our army in a single swipe.”
We do not know the strength of a fucking drauger.
