“Why have you come?”
“The hounds are loose. They have come upon your scent.” His spectral hand swept the room, motioning first to Devin, and then to Hilde. “Flee now, but beware the roan that has shorn its coat.”
“Arndt?”
Hilde’s questioning voice cut through the gloom. Bard looked to her as she clambered up from the floor, and then back to the warrior spirit only to find he was no longer there. Only the barest scent of grave dirt remained in the wraith’s stead.
Hilde pawed at the space where Arndt had just been, fingers stirring empty air. “Was he truly…?” The question was devoured by the bestial roar that set the night to trembling.
“Merciless Hel,” Devin muttered as he came to stand alongside Bard and Hilde. “What was that?”
“We need to leave.” Bard retrieved his ax and went to unbar the door.
“No,” Hilde called out. “We can’t just—”
But Bard had no ears for her. When the dead warned of doom, those who wished to live heeded their words. He shucked the bar free of the door and yanked it open, charging outside, ax leading the way. Only the empty village greeted him, but there was no mistaking the corruption that wormed its way amidst the darkness. It set his skin afire.
Another guttural roar thundered, this one nearer than the last. Whatever Haakon had loosed would be upon them soon. The sound faded, and he heard Hilde’s and Devin’s shuffled motions over the last of it as they followed him, their reluctance nipped in the tail. He spun about, his companions but a blur to his side, and instinct made his choice for him. Bard sprinted for the trees.
Though the darkness crowded about, the stars lent him their sight. He cut straight across the grassy terrain, doing nothing to hide his presence from whatever witchery dogged his heels. Neither stealth nor subterfuge would serve him now. His companions followed where he led, their huffed breaths keeping pace.
They reached the line of trees just as something crashed at their backs. Wood splintered like shattered bones and stones clattered, heavy thumps sounding as they rained down from the force of the blow that had demolished the hut they’d only just fled. The ground shook beneath Bard’s feet, but it did nothing to slow his headlong flight. He barreled through the clustered trees, branches and leaves slashing at his face, each fresh sting spurring him on.
“This way,” Hilde called as she darted past, her long legs slicing away at Bard’s lead. She ducked low and veered left, and Bard turned after her. He heard Devin do the same just behind.
Trees whipped past as they ran, humus crunching beneath their boots. Whatever hounded them stayed the course, malevolent shrieks peppering their spines with sharpened knives of terror. Branches snapped in discordant rhythm as the creature entered the woods.
Bard set his eyes on the back of Hilde’s head, her blonde hair a beacon in the darkness, and matched his pace to hers as best he could. She ran as if Fenrir himself chased after them, and that was not far from the mark.
“Lindvurm!” someone yelled, and Bard glanced back at the outline of the enormous monster, for it was indeed a lindvurm of sorts, a massive serpentine shadow that parted the trees and crushed the undergrowth as it came slithering and grunting.
Bard turned to keep running but before he could spot Hilde, or spy where Devin was behind him, he collided with something that gave way with a howl of pain – albeit a howl from a human throat. They both hit the hard ground, and Bard found himself sprawled alongside a man in mail who wore the sign of King Harald Bluetooth on his coat. The man spared him a brief glance, then looked agape at the lindvurm as it came on. He left his sword and helm among the leaves and scrambled to his feet.
“Wait,” Bard growled, fetching his ax and clambering upright, but the man dashed into the darkness of the woods.
Bard cast about, noticing more of Bluetooth’s raiders fleeing in the same direction. Toward the sea. Had they been coming this way to join the battle? Perhaps decamped here at the coming of early night due to the völur’s accursed fog? Mayhap the sea was closer than he thought, and mayhap Bluetooth’s ships awaited.
A scream grabbed Bard’s attention before he could sort his thoughts, and he looked to see a warrior snatched within the massive lindvurm’s jaws. The man’s howls were cut off as the monster’s snout snapped shut. It swallowed the warrior down, tossing its head back, and shafts of white moonlight illuminated the beast. Atop its snake-like coils swiveled the head of a dragon and a spiky mane of bleached spines. The bulk of the monster was seemingly made from a motley transgression of slain nidhoggr, patched in spots with rivulets of grave dirt, while here and there jutted the moldy bones of the long-dead, as well as much fresher, battle-fallen corpses.
Bard started as something gripped his shoulder, raising his ax before seeing Hilde and Devin standing there.
“What are you doing?” Hilde looked at him as if he were a fool.
“Bluetooth’s men…”
“Aye,” Devin hissed. “Let’s move!” He jerked his head toward the men fleeing northward, or at least Bard believed so.
“Get down!” Hilde suddenly yelled, shoving Bard.
“Too late. It’s spotted us,” said Devin. “Go!”
The lindvurm, glaring at them from two nacreous pairs of eyes atop its scaly skull, barked a croaking howl. Chewed up corpse-meat dropped from its maw as it slid toward them, snapping saplings and scrub beneath its daunting bulk.
Bard was yanked backward as the lindvurm’s maw clacked shut where he’d only just stood. He felt the air of its passage, a fetid stench hammering against his nose. Hilde’s hand was a vice about his wrist while she tugged at him, pulling him along with her, but Bard knew it to be futile. In close, the vurm was just too quick to be outrun, too powerful to be faced down. If there was to be any hope, it lay in wit, not brawn.
“Separate,” Bard shouted as he shook Hilde free and shoved her aside. “Find a way to get behind it, out of its line of sight.”
Hilde stumbled, hesitant, but Devin seemed to see the sense in his words. The warrior bolted between two large trees that had grown clustered together, leaving his companions to stare down the monster.
Bard gave the creature no time to choose between him and Hilde. He snatched the sword left behind by Bluetooth’s man and hurled it at the beast. It rang out against the lindvurm’s skull, bouncing harmlessly aside, but it had done its duty. Hilde was forgotten as the vurm reared up and loosed a fearsome roar, its blood-red gaze latching onto Bard with flash fires of fury burning inside. Ragged claws tore at the trees that separated them, clearing the way.
But Bard was already gone. The moment its attention was solely on him, he had run. For any of them to survive, he needed the lindvurm’s focus. He stomped and screamed and struck out at the trees as he fled. His breath scorched his throat at every exhalation while he pushed on, the monster tearing up the ground between them. Though every footfall was a minor victory, it would be on him soon, and he envisioned much more than a momentary reprieve.
Then, just ahead, an unfortunate hope appeared.
Huddled in the trees, steel helms poking up from the ground like rigid mushrooms, cowered dozens of King Bluetooth’s soldiers. Their eyes went wide upon seeing him leading the vurm in their direction. Curses rang out and chaos took hold, the warriors scrambling from the path as Bard plotted a course through the trees. There was no avoiding them, scattering as they had. He growled and dug his boots into the soft earth to turn away from the men. He’d hoped to find a ravine or someplace he could duck into and hide as the creature stormed past, not sacrifice his allied king’s own liegemen.