The ettin let out another horrible wail as it staggered and crumpled on the ground.
Skyre smiled proudly.
They had won.
A deep tremor raced beneath his feet, but he glanced not down, but to the treetops. The birds chittering above fled from their branches as a roar bellowed out—this one coming from behind them.
The men stilled, fingers tight on their hilts. The ground shook again, vibrating up their legs and the pines bowed as between them rushed a titanic creature, twice the size of the one they’d just subdued.
Skyre’s mouth was filled with dirt and beside him Cían choked out, “Sire, I think—”
“I ken’ih,” Skyre hissed. “It has a godsdamned mother.”
They could do nothing but jump away as the great ettin plowed through. Upon seeing the younger, it let out an anguished cry and spun. Its hollow eyes locked on the men.
With a massive hand, it lashed out, grabbing up one of the warriors—a farmer’s son from the midlands named Aiken. With a violent swing, she hurled him aside. A loudsnap!sounded as he collided with a bole and slumped against the tree.
She had no weapon, and needed none, as she tore into them with gargantuan fists, ripping up dirt and grass as she went, making the ground a battlefield in itself.
Eirn scrambled up a nearby pine, perching upon a high branch. He aimed his bow and emptied his quiver into the side of her throat. One ofher two heads watched him, and with another roar she grasped the pine, shaking it till its needles rained down. Eirn clung to his branch as the trunk splintered underneath.
Skyre rushed in, rolling behind her and drove his blade into her heel. The forest rang with her screech and she kicked the Vaich aside. Skyre spat blood into the dirt, barely having time to shake his vision into focus before Maran cried out, “Sire!”
A shadow was over him and he rolled aside as the great ettin stomped down where he had lain.
The men regrouped, recreating their previous tactic of striking low. Their iron cracked against the creature’s strong skin.
The ettin threw herself at the warband. Cían leapt up upon her hand, hacking at her wrist. Eirn, still clinging to his branch, let go, dropping onto her shoulder. Her left head bit out at him and he fisted her dirty grey hair, dangling free as he swiped at her neck.
Skyre scanned the area, settling on the crooked pine now hanging precariously overhead.
“Maran!” he shouted and the larger man stopped his pursuit, following the Vaich’s gaze to the splintered trunk. They raced for the tree, positioning themselves at the hinge. “Mind the wood, lest you skewer yourself!” Skyre said and together, they started to push.
The others, seeing their plan, charged in as further distraction. The ettin swiped at them, sending Torin’s blade flying, and scooping Cían up in its hand. Its tongue lolled out as it brought the prince to its mouth and Skyre grit his teeth.
“Push!” he shouted. Maran grunted beside him. Their muscles strained against the effort.
The tree groaned and swayed.
The sound of wood cracking echoed in his ear. Maran stepped back, gathering his bearings, and surged forwards like a rampaging auroch. He hit the tree hard. The force shuddered the pine and reverberated through Skyre’s arms. The weight shifted and the two stood back as the trunk broke at the stump.
The warband scattered as the tree crashed down, the ettin caught beneath like the fall of a blade. Both tree and beast toppled with a ferocious quake that echoed over the mountain. Skyre jogged over, pulling Cían free from her grasp and the men gathered at its head.
“Is it…?” Cían panted, out of breath.
“Suppose it isn’t.” Skyre gazed down at its stinking mouth and thrust his sword in. The men followed suit, till its veins were bared and its chest ceased to rise.
“Well,” he said, “let’s hope she wasnae married.”
The group was battered, bruised and bloodied, but they had lived, and the creatures were dead.
They gathered round Aiken, lying in the brush where he’d fallen. He was breathing hard, and Skyre asked, “Is anything broken?”
“Not sure I can move my legs,” said the man.
“And that’s nae the worst of it.” Eirn pointed to the emerald lush beneath him. “Pusmoss.”
“Cré ma nighm!” Skyre growled. Eerie bumps had already begun to form on Aiken’s skin.
