It was every Viking's hope to die fighting with a weapon in hand, so that their soul may be chosen among the slain by Valkyries with eagle's wings and lifted up to the halls of Valhalla; to feast and fight alongside the chosen slain until Ragnarok remade the world. Victory upon the battlefield was always the most welcomed outcome to anyone, but if it seemed that a warrior was to meet his fate facing down a hated enemy in combat, then the reward of Odin's hall made death seem much less of a tragedy and more of a just reward for dying bravely before the gods.
Herleif couldn't help but wonder, what was it about this volcano that made the Divine Pyre fight just as hard and vicious as any Viking in the face of defeat? The Great Forge had fallen, his warriors having pushed the Pyre Knights back from the walls all the way to the keep and mining tunnel dug into the rock, but still they refused to throw down their weapons. Just like Eitrivatnen, and each riverside fort before it, the Divine Pyre seemed intent on fighting to the very last man.
As he approached the mine on the far side of the forge, he found Judith standing toe to toe with a Raider who fought under his banner, along with number of his other warriors all surrounding her. Even outnumbered though, Judith didn't seem like she would be relenting anytime soon, staring the big man down even though he was a full head taller.
"I told you," he heard Judith say as he got closer, "no one is charging in until I am sure that none of the villagers will be hurt. We are here to save people, not leave behind a village full of corpses."
"Just let us go in, woman," replied the Raider. "We'll make quick work of these nithing troll humpers, then you can sort through whoever is left standing, and your God can sort through the dead. No doubt things will work themselves out in the end," he chuckled, and the warriors behind him all laughed. Judith looked like she had plenty more to say on the matter, but Herleif interrupted before she could.
"Enough!" he called out, waving the Raider and the rest of his warriors off with his shield. "Away with you all. Back to the line. Are we in the midst of a battle or chattering around the loom?" His warriors all looked to him in surprise as he walked up, but respectfully bowed their heads and began to walk off.
"My Jarl," said the Raider, giving Judith one more sideways glance before walking off with the rest.
Judith shook her head but seemed to relax as the warriors left. "Herleif, I am surprised to say this, but thank God that you are here."
"Careful," Herleif warned, giving her a pointed stare as his warriors still trickled past. He would admit, after what they had been through so far Judith was growing on him, but the last thing he needed was to be seen getting too friendly with their Ashfeld allies. Whatever his personal feelings on the matter were, he still had a role to play as Jarl. "What is the problem here?"
Judith took in a breath, then craned her neck to look up and over the Viking shield wall nearby. "The last remnants of the Pyre have taken up a position inside of the mining tunnels. We tried to force them out, but they have a number of villagers with them who were working as forced labor when the attack began. I pulled my Knights back to think of another solution to getting the villagers free when your warriors came wanting to handle things themselves. Now out of all the Jarls you have been the one with the coolest head when dealing with me and my Knights, and for that I thank you. But your warriors still seem to have no qualms over spilling any Ashfeld blood regardless of whether they are the enemy or not."
Herleif narrowed his eyes and surveyed the shield wall, then glanced up at the rock face the forge's keep was embedded in. He didn't bother to comment on her last remarks, not sure yet if being favored above the the other Jarls was a good thing or bad. "Your Knights are in position?" he asked her.
Judith nodded. "Along with a group of women that were being held prisoner. Apparently they were whipped into a frenzy by your warrior Ragna, and took part in getting the gate open. They are a tad roughed up, a bit more weary of a fight now thankfully, but they are still out for blood."
"It is amazing how much we can all fight like so-called savages when our backs are to a wall. You Knights cling to your chivalry, and scratch your heads wondering why the rest of us have no need for it." Herleif said offhandedly, not giving Judith a chance to answer. "Right then. Let us go and deal with your little problem." He gave a nod to Skuld and Judith both, bidding them to follow.
He marched them right to the front of their line, shoving in among his warriors until he could slip his shield in with the rest that made up the wall. Peering over the rim, shield linked with to one to either side, Skuld and Judith behind him with his warriors, and the wide opening of the mine in front, he saw nothing of the Divine Pyre in the stark darkness leading back into the tunnel.
"This fight is over!" Herleif called out, voice echoing against the rock face. He watched the tunnel carefully, searching for any sign of movement. "Lay down your weapons and surrender!"
Another moment passed by in silence, and then slowly, the sound of clanking armor could be heard rising from within the tunnel, rattling metal and shifting feet echoing off the stone walls. Out of the blackness they appeared, like a beast with too many heads to count. Dozens of Pyre Knights and foot soldiers, all that was left of their force and still more than enough to pose a challenge. In that tight space Herleif knew they would hold off his warriors for any number of hours, shields crashing together as no one made any progress against the other. Judith was right, they would have to find another way of dealing with this troublesome stalemate, otherwise it would simply be a slaughter.
Three black armored figures stepped forward from the rest. A Peacekeeper, a Lawbringer and a Warden bearing the golden phoenix of their illegitimate legion upon their tabards and capes. From them the Warden stepped out alone, shoulders straight and head held high as he lifted his longsword in challenge to the horde who had come to before him. "Come and take them, barbarian! We are not afraid of the likes of you!"
The man was brave, Herleif had to admit. Foolish, but brave, so he broke away from the shield wall and stepped out between the two lines to meet the Warden, Judith and Skuld following after without having to be asked. "What is your name, Knight? Tell me so I might raise a horn to you as we celebrate our victory this night."
The Warden took half a step back, not out of fear, but more so in disgust as he looked Herleif up and down. "What a disgrace! As if I would never dishonor my name by giving it to a faithless bastard such as you."
Herleif narrowed his eyes and gave an unamused snort of laughter. "Then you will die nameless, with no one to care for your passing as your body lays rotting beneath the sun. Are you truly ready to die this day?"
The Warden thumped his gauntleted hand against his chest. "Gladly! There is no greater reward than laying down one's life for the glory of God's holy mountain! Our lives are insignificant in the face of its purity and splendor." There was a wave of movement from the Pyre line behind him, the Lawbringer and some Knights thumping their fists upon shields and armor in agreement. But some, such as the Peacekeeper who simply watched on in silence, did not appear to agree so fervently.
Herleif saw this, and began to wonder just how much fight was left in the Pyre now. After all, what were these people but tyrants and oppressors, preying on their own people for power and wealth. The kind of people who would stab another in the back and consider it a fair fight if it meant victory came easy. "How benevolent your God is to give you this chance then," he called out to the Warden, but made sure that his voice carried to every Pyre Knight before him. "And do the rest of you feel the same? Are you all so desperate to lay down your lives for a mere mountain on this one man's word?"
The Warden stepped forward again, fists clenched tight in anger. "You think that your blasphemous words will frighten us, you soulless-"
"I will see your head cut from your shoulders and placed on a pike upon the ramparts before we leave this place, you putrid lump of troll shit," Herleif interrupted with a growl. "And the rest of you! By Hel, Fenrir and mighty Jormungandr, I swear that any man or woman here that does not throw down their weapons now will decorate the walls of this fortress with their corpse come sundown!"
The Warden took a wary glance back over his shoulder, hearing the clatter of armor as his fellow Knights began to mutter among themselves. He turned back to Herleif, pointing with his sword as he called out in as mighty a voice as he could muster. "We are not afraid of savages like you!" He braced his feet, squared his shoulders and brought up his sword to attack. "If you wish for a fight, then face me and I will send you to Hell myself!"
To either side of him, Judith and Skuld each brought up their weapons and prepared for a face off against the Pyre Warden, but Herleif waved them down, still glaring at the man. He squeezed his fingers around the smooth leather grip of his sword, and gave the Pyre Knight a smile as he stepped forward. His sword swung up and knocked against the boss of his shield, a dull metal clap that was suddenly echoed tenfold by his warriors as they beat their weapons upon their shields. The clap repeated, sounding off the sheer cliff rising above them, only to crash back down loud enough to make the Warden's armor rattle.
Herleif stopped a few paces away from the man, thumping his sword to his chest in salute. The Warden did not return the gesture, and they stared at each other for a moment longer as the Vikings of Bilrost beat out their call to battle and the Pyre Knights watching on in grim silence. Then it began.
Herleif saw the attack coming as the Warden lunged forward to swing his longsword in a wide arc, hoping to catch any dodge he made and end the fight quickly. But Herleif remained steady with his feet firmly planted, bringing up his shield and weathered the blow that crashed against him, feeling the sword strike against the leather and wood. He struck out immediately, stabbing at the Warden and taking him in the side. The man stumbled back, protected by his armor, but wary of charging in again as Herleif remained covered by his shield.
They began to circle one another, placing each foot carefully, neither taking their eyes off of the other. The world around them fell away, leaving just this strangely intimate moment where only they existed. Nothing else mattered. Only the other's sword, and their skill.
Herleif rushed forward, but waited just long enough for the Warden to dodge sideways before catching him with a quick headbutt. The Warden stumbled, and Herleif pressed the attack. He stabbed, slashed and stabbed again, forcing the Warden back beneath a fury of blows that had their swords striking together in a matter of moments. Taking a step back, the Warden tried to land a bash with his shoulder, but Herleif didn't give him a chance. He slashed his sword at the Warden's face, putting a stop to the man's attack before it could begin and striking with another of his own. This time however the Warden parried his sword and swiftly took advantage of the opening he created to put Herleif on the back foot with two lighting quick strikes.
The Warden pressed his advantage, but came on too strong, too quickly. Perhaps he wanted to impress his God, or just didn't want to be made a fool of in front of the rest of his fanatical companions; but Herleif took in a breath as he dodged and blocked, watching for any mistake his opponent might make. When he saw it, a brief moment where the Warden exposed an opening on the back swing, he was ready.
Stepping in close, he blocked with his shield and shoved the Warden's longsword away, leaving him completely open. Herleif whipped up his sword and slashed it down across the Warden's neck, sending blood and broken chainmail into the air. The Warden fell to his knees, having no other choice but to try and grab onto Herleif to stay upright, only to have the shield rim slam into his head with an echoing ring. Herleif didn't let up, pummeling the Warden with his shield again and again, until the wounded man fell back dazed and limp. Dark blood seeped from under the man's helmet, no doubt bubbling from split lips and a shattered nose from Herleif's relentless assault. Standing over the fallen Warden, Herleif revealed the full devastation of the man's broken face as he removed the black helmet, tossing it away along with the mail coif he wore before taking him by the hair.
There was no hesitation, no mercy as Herleif lifted his sword and swung it into the man's neck. The hacks were heavy and brutal, the blood flowing free and hot over his hands as his sword blade made its way through the Warden's neck one cut at a time. With a devastating final cleave he pulled the head free, hefting it in his palm to look down at those empty, lifeless eyes, wondering what salvation a volcano could offer the Warden now. Turning his back on the line of Pyre Knights watching, he took the head and carelessly tossed it back to his own warriors.
"For the pike!" he roared, earning a mighty cheer from the shield wall, and a warrior stepped out of the line to pick up the severed head as it rolled across the ground. He lifted it up like a trophy, drawing forth another cheer before disappearing again behind the shields. Blood still hot on his hands, Herleif turned back to face the remaining Lawbringer and Peacekeeper who stood deathly silent in the wake of their companions defeat. Again he beat his red stained sword against his shield, and again his warriors echoed it with a sound like Thor's thunder.
The Lawbringer gave a glance to the woman next to him, then lifted his poleaxe and called out in a less than confident voice. "Divine Pyre! Find your courage and prepare to show these dogs the wrath of God's fire!" A few calls came up from the Pyre line in answer, but not many.
The Peacekeeper remained still, holding her dagger and sword loose in her hands, simply staring at Herleif. He stared back, wondering what she was thinking. He didn't have to wait long to find out.
Somehow he wasn't surprised as she calmly stepped in close to the Lawbringer and slipped her dagger up under his armor to stab him in his side. The Lawbringer gave out a sharp cry, clearly very much surprised by this sudden turn, and stumbled weakly as he tried to get away. The Peacekeeper stayed on him, dagger stabbing in and out of his gut now and splattering the ground with dark blood.
Throughout the line of Pyre Knights, more soldiers began turning on each other, following the Peacekeeper's example as pained screams and calls of surprise echoed within the tunnel. Conquerors bludgeoned proud Lawbringers to the ground with their flails and heater shields, while Wardens betrayed each other just like the oaths they had once sworn. Soldiers stabbed those beside them in the back with their swords while they were distracted, and the desperate cries of those who tried to flee from attackers who they had thought were allies were cut silent by swift blades. Herleif stood in grim silence, watching as the Pyre line dwindled to just those desperate enough to escape death at any cost. The Peacekeeper stood over the still body of the Lawbringer now, blood dripping from the fist that gripped her dagger. She stepped over the dead man and walked towards Herleif, stopping just a few paces away, unbothered by the slaughter going on behind her, and tossed her blades down at his feet.
"I never cared about the damn mountain, but they gave us a choice," she said, sounding neither apologetic or upset. "Worship, or die. Not much of a choice at all, if you ask me. What would you have done?"
Herleif gave her a small smile, stepping closer and touching the point of his sword just under her chin. "I would have taken up my sword, and died."
The Peacekeeper lifted her chin against his blade, her hands slowly coming up in surrender. Behind her other Pyre Knights stepped forward and threw down their weapons, raising their hands as well. And just like that the battle was over for good.
Raising his shield, the warriors behind him let loose a triumphant cry and came out from behind their wall of shields to claim their prize. For a moment those Pyre Knights that remained wavered and stepped back, frightfully wondering if they had made a mistake by trusting in the mercy of a savage enemy. But whatever escape they had hoped for in the face so many northern warriors quickly evaporated as each had their hands pulled behind their back and bound with rope. The Peacekeeper was roughly tugged away from the tip of Herleif's sword, and he watched as she gave in to the inevitable and was made a prisoner just like the rest.
Judith and Skuld stepped up next to him, watching as the Pyre Knights were gathered together and herded towards one of the big cages that had been used to imprison the people of Cinder Mill. "That was well played," Judith said.
"How many defeats could you stand before your faith finally began to waver?" Herleif asked her, taking a cloth that Skuld offered up to clean his hands and sword.
"I have suffered many defeats over this past year, and more than I would care to admit before that." Judith answered. "My faith still holds strong."
Herleif gave her a sideways glance, seeing how strong Judith really was for a woman in her position. Perhaps a bit too strong. "So it does. Get them into the cages!" he commanded his warriors. "Stockpile their weapons and see that no one steps out of line until we depart this place!"
Judith looked from him and over to the line of prisoners and back. "It will be difficult to bring them all to the Walled City with us. Quite a number to keep an eye on, and I doubt that the Pyre commanders will be willing to give a ransom for any of this lot," she remarked.
"I mean to take them back to Bilrost." Herleif said without looking up from wiping down his sword. "They will not be ransomed. I shall return home with them as thralls."
Judith was quiet for a moment before she spoke. "You mean slaves?"
Now Herleif caught her with a sideways glance. "Aye. Or would you rather that we simply slaughter them all here like cattle?"
Again Judith said nothing, but she looked up at the many black armored figures packed tightly into the cage and lingered there. "But... they surrendered. Letting them yield only to take them as slaves seems horribly-"
"I am glad that you have managed to keep your faith after all these years, Commander. I truly am," Herleif interrupted, turning on her as he tossed the cloth back to Skuld who also stared Judith down with those stormy blue eyes. "Likewise, I too keep the faith and traditions of my people close to my heart. I admit, at times I cannot help but question what fate might have in store for me and my people," his eyes shifted warily over to Skuld for a moment, who only glanced at him briefly before looking back at Judith, "but I have never forgotten who I am or where I come from." He stepped in close and clapped his hand onto Judith's arm as he spoke quietly. "These are strange times, and it is odd to think that I can trust you to fight bravely by my side. But do not forget, this is a raid. When we leave these shores to return home, we do so richer than when we arrived."
Judith dipped her head, attempting to pull her arm back from his hand, but he didn't let go. "Herleif, I..."
"If you truly wish to come with us back to Valkenheim when this is all over, then my advice is this. Give up being a Knight. You honor yourself by holding onto your virtues, but it will find you no favor now. I care not for which god you worship, our many or your one, but if you intend to live with us, then be prepared to live like us. Do not think to bring Ashfeld with you when you settle in the north." He turned and saw that in Judith's absence, Marcelo had taken it upon himself to lead the gathered Lion Flame Knights into the tunnel and rescue the villagers kept within. "Your people will be safe from the likes of us, as is our deal," he continued, "but I was not aware that the Pyre were part of that arrangement, unless you wish to renegotiate the terms? I am sure that the other Jarls and I could come up with something we want in return for their miserable lives."
"Their lives are of no consequence to me," Judith said quickly, finally pulling her arm free from his grasp. "This is not easy for me, Herleif. I know that whatever happens here, history will not remember me fondly. I will be called a traitor, and a heretic even by those whose faith I do share, but there is no going back to change what has been done. I am not a Viking, nor will I ever truly be one. I can say nothing for what may happen once this war is done, but far be it from me to tell a Jarl what to do on his raid. Take what is yours, I simply voice my opinion as my honor compels me."
Herleif was not so certain that Judith was as fine to let things go as she let on, but he was happy to let her have her say if it meant bringing this argument to a close. "Good. I am glad we could see eye to eye on this."
Over at the mouth of the tunnel, his warriors were stepping carefully among the bodies of the slain Pyre Knights, removing helmets and taking blades to their necks to claim their heads. He hadn't even given the order, and still they all worked to see his promise of setting the heads on pikes upon the ramparts fulfilled without complaint. It was brutal work, but it was their way. Just like it had been the way of the Pyre to decorate the road to Cinder Mill with the hanged bodies of those that had resisted them. Just like it had been Judith's way to feel sorry for an enthralled enemy she would have gladly cut down herself in pitched combat. Just as he had to put on a grim face and tear down a woman he ultimately respected all to retain his authority as Jarl.
Sometimes you just had to play the part that you were given.