Annie sat with her legs crossed, leaning against the headboard of her bed.
It was the day after the Royal Army, and Ragnar, had marched. And she felt an emptiness in her chest, like a piece of the puzzle that was her heart was missing.
She held the note he had sent her, reading it over and over. Ragnar's handwriting was bold and he had a dumb habit of adding unneeded flourish to some of the letters… But still she held on to it.
Annie,
I cannot help but convey my greatest apologies for what transpired. There is something wrong with me. It is my belief that the 'Beast' inside me wishes to kill you, as it demonstrated yesterday. I wish to be by your side, always. However, until I am able to control the beast within me, we must stay separated. It is my hope that by the time I return from the War, we can be together and return you to your home.
Love,
Ragnar
When she'd first received it, there had been tear marks in several places.
Life can never be simple for me, or for Ragnar…
Eleanor, Tyr and Nick had been doing their best to keep her company, and Suttungr's wives and children had come to visit several times, but she knew she'd been very cold to them.
Now, she simply sat, and stared down.
Please come back to me Ragnar… I forgive you.
"Do not hesitate, Ragnar!"
Ragnar struck out, a second to late, and Tobias was able to get under his strike. He drove his own strike into Ragnar's gut, then kicked his feet out from under him.
For the fourth or fifth time that day Ragnar ended up on his back, lying in the dirt.
The Army had made camp after nearly an entire day and night of riding. Ragnar's men had been given a spot far away from the spring, in an area with little cover and little materials to create fires from, but none of his men complained. Nor did Ragnar. They simply made due.
We have a purpose.
Tobias stood over Ragnar, and Ragnar could feel Luigi standing somewhere to the side. His master stepped back, and his attention flickered to something happening in the distance.
Opening!
Ragnar lashed out, spinning his entire body, aiming a foot for the side of Tobias knee.
He was gratified to feel himself connect, and to feel Tobias knee pop as it was forced aside.
Then he was on his feet, driving forth his attack. He did not hesitate, his blows falling like rain, elbows, fists and feet flying. Tobias avoided most of them or redirected them, but a hard right cross slammed into his jaw. Ragnar saw that he was in a daze, and went for the kill strike…
His fist stopped just as it brushed Tobias throat.
"Do you yield, Master?"
Tobias actually smiled, the first time he had seen him do so.
"I yield," He said, bowing his head in defeat, "Excellent, Ragnar. You see what happens when you don't hesitate?"
Ragnar nodded, sitting down in the dirt and folding his legs.
"I'm beginning to see, Master," He mopped sweat from his forehead with a towel that Luigi tossed him, then stood, "I think we should call it a day… Two hours with Suttungr and then two hours with you has been quite… tiresome. If we don't meet the Surtr tomorrow then we'll do the same thing."
Tobias nodded, withdrawing to his own tent, Ragnar walked over to the edge of their camp, and looked towards their intended path. Niflheim was another day's ride, along the King's road that wound its way all the way to the north.
"Ragnar," Suttungr's familiar voice sad from behind him, "We've been called to 'planning meeting' with Freyr and the other commanders. It seems though, that we were informed at the very last minute."
Ragnar's eyes flashed with annoyance.
"I have a feeling this campaign is going to be a pain in the ass, Suttungr."
Suttungr nodded.
"Especially with Freyr and MacArthur doing their level best to discredit us and make us look stupid," They both spat on the ground, then laughed, "Well, once battle is joined… They'll need us."
It was Ragnar's turn to nod, before they made their way to the larger camp. The walk gave Suttungr a chance to talk to Ragnar privately that had been sorely needed.
"Listen, Brother," He said, "I wanted to apologize for… all the bad that I've caused in your life. Because I was a moron and blamed you for mother's death. I started a fucking rebellion, and caused all of this!"
He flung his hands into the air, waving them about so they encompassed the entire Army. Ragnar held up a hand before he could speak again.
"Suttungr, I forgive you," Suttungr stopped in his tracks, shocked.
"You forgive me? I tried my level best to kill you! The first time I saw you in years I took out all of my anger on you, cut off your arms! How can you forgive so easily?"
"Because," Ragnar looked back, smiling knowingly, "You ended up allowing me and Annie to escape, and you stopped me from… hurting Annie. And on top of that, we're both outcasts now, the wayward children of Inanna the Queen! But, I think now we have each other, and our loved ones."
Suttungr looked at his younger brother, nearly two decades younger than he was.
And yet he is wise. That is what loneliness and despair will do to a young man…
"We do have each other." He said, nodding.
They walked the rest of the trip in silence, looking straight ahead as most of the men of the Army chose to stop what they were doing and stare at them.
We must pay them no heed, Ragnar thought. Our strength will draw them to us.
A servant stopped them at the front of the tent.
"What business do you have here?"
Suttungr produced the handwritten note that he had received.
"Our brother Freyr has requested us to meet in council with him."
"I know of no such invitation," The servant said, annoyed, then gestured to another servant, "You! Go ask the Prince if these two are supposed to be here!"
Ragnar felt his face heat in anger, being subjected to such an insult!
The other servant returned after a few minutes, and whispered in the ear of the head servant.
"It seems My Prince did command that you council with him, though he chastises you for being late!"
If he says on more thing…
Suttungr grabbed Ragnar by the arm and pulled him into the tent, heading through a second flap into Freyr's planning room.
His brother's tent was illustrious, far past the simplicity that Ragnar enjoyed. Rugs lined the floor, there were murals stretched across the walls, there was even an iron heater in the corner, pumping heat into the tent.
Such wasteful luxury. Does Freyr even know that we're at War?
"Ah, hello Suttungr, Ragnar," He said as they stepped into sight, "I must say, it's bad form to be late to the first war meeting!"
Ragnar held his tongue.
"Well, it seems the servant you sent got lost on the way to deliver your note," Suttungr said civilly, though there was an undercurrent of castigation. "But we are here now, can you please fill us in on what we missed?"
An annoyed mutter ran around the room.
MacArthur, the commanders of his three battalions, and Sigmund stood to one side, while a pair of men that Ragnar didn't know occupied the other side. Freyr stood at the head of the table, so Suttungr and Ragnar squeezed into the area at the foot of the table.
A detailed map of the area surrounding Niflheim, with a large set of markers indicating the current position of the Army. A broad valley, with the river Jormugand flowing down it, crossed through Niflheim, and arced near where the Army was located.
Ragnar noted one thing though, there were no markers indicating any scouts, or any possible enemy movement.
"Freyr, have you not dispatched scouts?" He blurted before he could stop himself. All of the heads at the table turned to him. Freyr's lip twitched.
"As I was saying, before you two interrupted us," Freyr said, his finely manicured nails drumming on the tabletop, "I do not believe we have need of any scouts at the moment, being as we still a day's ride from Niflheim. The Surtr likely do not even know of our presence."
"Are you drunk? Or just stupid?" Ragnar glared across the table at his brother, "The Surtr could even now be planning to attack us! And we would have no way to detect them until it was too late!"
Suttungr laid a hand on his shoulder, as Freyr exploded.
"Our Father the King has designated me commander of this expedition!" He yelled, slamming his fists onto the table, "I give the orders to this Army, not you, Death Prince! If you wish to waste your time patrolling and scouting, so be it! Now leave my tent! You are banned from these meetings!"
Well that went well, Ragnar thought angrily to himself as he stalked out of the tent, Less than three minutes in the tent and I'm already kicked out. That has to be a record or something.
As he was making his way back to his camp, he heard yelling and struggling from a few tent rows over. He put his hood up to cover his face. Investigating the ruckus, he found a trio of men standing above a fourth, with a crowd gathering.
It was Annar.
"Fucking bastard, who said you could use our water," One of them said. He was a huge man, who could likely give Tyr a run for his money in height and weight, he wore the red and gold of Sigmund's men, "There's a tax on any of the Death Prince's men. You want to use our stuff, you gotta pay for it!"
Ragnar felt anger gathering inside him, as they stomped on Annar once again. The crowd grew even more. No one noticed Ragnar, walking about without his cloak or swords on, and with his hood up. He easily infiltrated the crowd, walking through until he stood at the edge of the circle that had formed.
"You really think we need you and your pipsqueak of a Prince? The Death Prince, ha! I've heard the little runt can't even control his anger! And that the big nosed she-bitch that he brought back with him left him! Guess he couldn't handle her properly like Eric would!"
So, the servants of the Royal Apartments let that little fact out. Shit.
The crowd chuckled as the man thumped his chest and strutted about the circle.
Ragnar stepped into the circle, forcing himself to unclench his fist.
"You should really watch what you say," He said, letting his voice carry to the huge oaf across the circle, "Especially when your whore of a mother is out there somewhere servicing farm animals."
Ragnar heard maniacal laughter from inside himself.
So, you've learned how to insult someone! The Beast called from its pit within his heart. Now can you back up the insult?
The one that had called himself Eric turned slowly toward Ragnar, his face enraged.
"What did you say, fucker?"
Ragnar smiled.
Good, he's going to be pissed when he charges.
"I said, your mother is a whore who services farm animals," Ragnar gave him a single fingered salute, "What, are you deaf?"
"Do you know who I am," The man said, swelling to his full immense height, "I am Eric the Strong! The best in the whole Guard of Prince Sigmund!"
Well, we shall see if that is true, won't we?
"Well, you really just look like an asshole that enjoys beating people up," Ragnar gestured to the two men who were still hovering above Annar, "I dislike people like you. Now, do I need to call your mother a whore again, or should I start on your pig-fucking father?"
Eric charged, his body lumbering forward.
This is almost too easy.
He dropped, sweeping out with a kick. His foot slammed into Eric's knee, but it was like kicking a tree. Ragnar rolled out of the way, avoiding a powerful, but not very swift, fist. He stood and sent a hard right hook slashing up into the man's head. He staggered, but didn't go down.
The crowd that was still gathering watched in amazement, as if this Eric was particularly skilled.
He's just big. Really, really, really, big!
"Little shit!" He yelled, rubbing his cheek.
Ragnar let out a powerful combination, forcing Eric to retreat, but none of the blows taking him down.
I've got to put him out…
Several kicks pummeled the great man's legs, but still he didn't go down. A backhanded slap from Eric sent Ragnar sprawling though. His hood flapped back onto his shoulders, revealing his features to the crowd.
Ragnar rolled over his shoulder, feeling the intense pain in his shoulder. Eric had likely broken his shoulder.
Eric came on, oblivious to the Prince who stood before him, and swung heavily. Ragnar ducked under the clumsy blow, twisting his body and slamming a knee into the larger man's groin. Then his arm was locked in a choke hold around the man's neck.
Damn, this guy's a little tougher than I thought he'd be!
He felt Eric's throat collapse as he heaved backwards with his arms, felt his hands scrabbling across his face. Ragnar held the choke hold, for a few seconds longer, then released it.
Before Eric could turn around, he threw all of his weight into a single punch that sprawled the larger man out, and left Ragnar's hand steaming.
The crowd was silent, seeing who was standing before them. Then Ragnar heard a few whispers and murmurs throughout the crowd, as he went over to check on Annar. The two other men
"Is that the Death Prince?" "Yeah, he… just beat the shit out of Eric!" "Holy sky, and he was the best that we have!"
Ragnar didn't even acknowledge any of the comments, for he was busy helping Annar up.
"Why did you leave the camp alone? You know the rule, Annar, no Guard is to leave camp alone. Rule of threes remember?"
As soon as he was standing, he bowed deeply to Ragnar.
"I'm so sorry for involving you my Prince," His young voice was full of apology, "It won't happen again."
Ragnar looked at him for a moment, then turned to see Eric's two comrades attempting to drag him away.
"I would have you all listen to me," He called out to the crowd, but he already had their undivided attention, "If ever I hear that you are attempting to draw a 'tax' from my men, for the water that flows in Jormungand, I shall kill those responsible. And if he is your best, then your best is not good enough. Now, good day."
Luigi made quite a show when Ragnar returned, seeing how he had acquired quite a few more bruises, and his clothes were torn.
"Did you get into a fight with someone at the council?"
"Yes and no," Ragnar said, not meeting his Guardian's gaze, "I may, may have called Freyr an idiot and a drunk and gotten kicked out of the meetings… But the bruises and such are because I found a group of Sigmund's men terrorizing Annar."
Luigi looked at the younger guard, who did his best to disappear.
"Do not hold him accountable," Ragnar defended him, "He did nothing except try to get some water. And Eric the Strong and his lackey's tried to get a 'tax' from him. You know what I did already, don't you, Luigi?"
"That bastard Eric… I can see him doing something that stupid," Luigi said, scratching his head, "But, damn it Ragnar, you need to be at those planning meetings. Any day now we could meet the Surtr, and now you have to rely on Suttungr for information… Oh, hell."
Suttungr was walking up to the tent, a strange smile hovering on his lips.
"They kicked me out too," He called as he approached, stopping near the other trio, "I called MacArthur a moron. Can you believe he wants to just rush into Niflheim and sit there," Suttungr pitched his voice in a comical version of MacArthur's drawl, "'Oi, we'll just charge in and be sitting there before they can even do anything about it'. I couldn't stop myself."
Ragnar looked at his older brother for a moment, and then began to laugh, a chuckle that turned into bellowing laughter. Suttungr laughed right along with him. Luigi looked at the two of them and threw his hands up in the air.
They're too much alike for their own good.
Why did I come here again?
Annie had finally allowed her guardians to drag her outside of the apartments, from which she'd steadfastly refused to leave the past four days. She'd usually just sit in her room, looking out the window towards the road that the Army had left on.
But finally Tyr had stormed in and told her to get ready, 'you're not lying around on your fanny for one more second!'. His wounds were still healing, for Annie had chosen not to teach them how to prioritize as she did with Ragnar.
Maybe I should…
Now, Eleanor, Tyr, Nick and Suttungr's family sat in a crowded theater, watching as a man played a strange instrument that Annie had never seen before, huge. With hundreds of white and black teeth. His hands moved across the teeth, producing noises that grated against her senses. Eleanor, who was seated beside her, seemed to enjoy it though, tapping along with the tune.
"Comeon, Annie, don't they have harpsichords where you're from?"
Annie looked up, noticing everyone at the large table was looking at her. She looked down at the plate or nearly untouched food in front of her…
"No… my people don't have a lot of music…"
"Well that's sad," Little Fredrik said from down at the end of the table, even as he shoveled a spoonful of food into his ravenous little gullet, "What do you do for fun than?"
Annie looked down, unwanted memories flashing through her mind. Then she looked up, feeling embarrassed with all of them staring at her.
"Well, it was different throughout the lands where I lived. I lived alone with my father for most of my life… We didn't socialize a lot outside of Raion."
Her only friends had been Reiner, Bertoldt, Berik and a few other children. They'd grown further apart as her father had increased her training.
"Sounds boring, Aunt Annie!" Fredrik said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, "At least you have us now!"
His words struck her, and she felt a warmth that she hadn't felt in the days since she'd seen Ragnar reawaken.
I do have them… And they're good people. Just like Ragnar…
Ragnar felt disgust swell up inside him as he led the entirety of his guard down a winding side road, towards a still burning village. If Ragnar's maps were right, then it had been a small mining town that had provided Niflheim with the needed ore for its great forges. But now it was simply a billowing firestorm that lit up the night.
"Luigi, have you sighted anything of interest?"
His Guardian was next to him, a spyglass trained unmoving on the village.
"The village isn't totally engulfed yet," He said, his voice low, almost a growl, "But it's going to be in a few minutes. There's a homestead a half kilometer to the west, closer to the mountains, I count at least three Jotunn bumming around. Two in the fifteen meter class and one in the ten meter. They don't look wild. Maybe a dozen men are doing something in and around the house… It doesn't look good."
Ragnar squinted, trying to see what Luigi was seeing, but gave up. Instead, he spurred his horse ahead to where Suttungr was leading the guards.
"Suttungr, looks like we've caught a group of raiders, finally."
The Royal Army, helmed by Freyr, had flailed about in the area around Niflheim, unable to bring the Surtr to battle. After a dozen men had been killed in a well-executed ambush, for no losses from the Surtr, his brother had finally given into reason and began to send out patrols.
Though Ragnar had been elated that his brother had made a sensible decision, he truly disliked how he went about it. Ragnar's men were forced to patrol an area that experienced the greatest number of attacks, while the Royal Army sat back near Niflheim.
Ragnar knew his men didn't mind… they wanted to meet the Surtr, but with their main source of support twenty kilometers away, Ragnar didn't want to get stuck in too deeply.
Which was why for a week he'd been unable to bring the Surtr to battle.
But now they've decided to linger over their kill for a little too long… And it's going to cost them!
"Yeah, I heard Luigi," Suttungr said as Ragnar came up abreast of him, "The odds seem favorable for us, but we must be cautious."
"What're you thinking for a plan of attack?"
Suttungr scratched the stubble that had begun to accumulate on his face. Ragnar's face was in need of a shave too.
"Two teams, I'll take a dozen men and you have the rest. My group will feint towards them, then you catch them as they follow us."
Ragnar nodded, and signaled for the rest of his men to gather around.
He explained the plan, while Luigi kept an eye on the enemy, and split them up into their teams. Then they rode to within a quarter mile of the homestead before dismounting. Suttungr had taken his group in even closer.
"It should be any second now…"
The night lit up as several members of Suttungr's team dismounted and transformed, their horses having been training to run on away from the explosions.
Using the backlight from the burning village, Ragnar watched though Luigi's spyglass as he lay upon the crest of a small hill, barely large enough to conceal his team. Suttungr's great horned form slammed forward into one of the titans, as another seven or eight of the Surtr transformed.
They struggled for a few moments, Suttungr slamming out one of his great fists. The steaming corpse of a Jotunn collapsed, and Suttungr began his 'retreat'.
"Here they come!" Ragnar yelled to his men, who began to spread out, fifteen meter intervals so they had room to transform.
Suttungr's form jumped over their position, immediately turning about to confront the enemy. The rest of his team did the same. Then the Surtr stormed over them. Ragnar looked up as a massive foot glided overhead.
"Now!"
Ragnar bit down on his hand, and felt the intoxicating feeling of pure power as the flesh of his Jotunn wrapped him. He felt its nerves lashing themselves to his body, the heat that the armor he wore only increased.
But there was one thing he didn't feel.
I am still here, fool!
The beast called from the pit. It didn't try to wrestle control from him though, for which Ragnar was thankful.
At the sudden appearance of the second team, the Surtr panicked and tried to flee. But Ragnar and Luigi's team wouldn't allow that. They were trapped between Suttungr manifested a pair of swords and reengaged, his team following him as he whirled his massive body.
Ragnar clutched a Surtr's head, and wrenched it off, before slamming one of his lower fists down upon the exposed man.
Well, that was over quickly.
Where a dozen Surtr had stood were only the rapidly desiccating corpses of their Jotunn. While the triumphant men of Ragnar's guard stood about.
Ragnar tore himself free of his Jotunn, hopping off as it slid to the ground. His men did the same. Then he whistled, and waited a moment. A thundering of hooves, and then his horse was there, and he was climbing into its saddle. He flicked the reins, looking about for Luigi.
Luigi rode past him, already heading towards the homestead.
"That was well done!" Luigi called, "The timing was almost perfect, and surprise was total!"
"Yeah, it was," Ragnar said, as he followed, "Did we lose anyone?"
Luigi shook his head, and Ragnar felt himself relax. The thunder of charging horses precluded anymore conversation, as the rest of the guard caught up to them. They bore down upon the few remaining Surtr, who looked completely exhausted. Then additional movement caught his eye.
What are all these women doing here…?
The beast peeked its head out of its pit, and he felt its rage trickling into him.
You know what the Surtr are doing… They are taking their spoils of war. Kill them!
"Surround them," Ragnar ordered, stamping the beast back, taking several deep breaths to calm himself.
He dismounted, and began walking towards the homestead. When he was within a dozen meters of the house, someone called out to him. A man in the brown cloak of a high ranking Surtr stood with a young girl, maybe thirteen or fourteen. Her red hair was ragged, and she was bruised and bleeding in several spots. Her dress was also torn...
The man called out again, as Ragnar came into the lamplight. He had a knife pressed against the girl's throat. His men were hanging back
"Stay where you are! Do not come any closer or this girl dies!"
Ragnar continued walking, though he slowed his pace.
"Stop, I said!" The Surtr called, pressing the knife even harder. Blood wept from the girl's neck. Her face, which had until that point been slack, tightened and contorted with pain.
"I shall not stop," Ragnar said, "You shall release the girl, now."
"Why the hell should I! You'll kill me as soon as I let go of her!"
Ragnar smiled.
"Would you rather die quickly, or would you rather I flay you alive?"
Damn the beast… He said, feeling its miasma permeating his soul, a dark feeling that kept spreading.
"I'd prefer not to die at all!" The man said. Ragnar watched, his muscles coiling, knowing that the Surtr was about to make a mistake. "Fuck you!"
The knife came away from the girl's neck, pointing towards Ragnar, who had burst forward the final few feet. His hands came away from his waist with his two knives, slashing the man's knife hand off.
The Surtr screamed then, releasing the girl. Ragnar shouldered her aside as he stepped forward, the knife in his left hand reaching out to bury itself in the man's throat, while the other slashed across his abdomen. The screaming came to a sudden halt as Ragnar took the man's head off, his right hand slashing back through his neck.
Ragnar tensed, feeling someone touch his leg, and went to throw himself to the side. But he caught a flash of red hair in his peripheral vision, and halted his movement. The young girl was holding onto his leg, crying and thanking him. Relaxing, he sheathed his knives and patted the girl on the head.
It was then that he looked up. His men had taken his movement as a signal, and all of the remaining Surtr, except for two, were lying dead on the ground. Luigi was standing near a cluster of two, wiping his blades on a piece of cloth torn from a Surtr's uniform.
Ragnar reached down and did his best to pry the young girl from his leg.
"Comeon, comeon, you gotta let go…" He said, tugging on one of her tiny little arms, "I need to take care of some things. Beth, could you help me! Take care of her please!"
Beth, short and squat, but with a motherly spirit belying her total ruthlessness in combat, came over and coaxed the girl to let Ragnar go.
"Thank you, now," Ragnar bent down onto one knee, "What happened?"
The girl looked up, green eyes still bathed in tears.
"The… those men showed up yesterday," She began, looking towards the two Surtr that remained, "They came in as Jotunn… The local guards tried to stop them, but they… they couldn't do anything against them!"
Ragnar listened, feeling his anger swelling.
"What happened after they killed the guards, young miss?"
She reached up and held her left arm with her right hand, her face going completely blank.
"They…" She shuddered, "They… killed all of the men and children… then they rounded up all of the woman and…and…and…"
Ragnar held up a hand, knowing exactly where her tale would end up. He wanted to hear none of it.
"I am sorry we could not get here faster," He took her hand in his, "But you are safe now, I give you my word as Ragnar, the Death Prince."
The girl's eyes flashed up, staring into Ragnar's face.
"Y- You're a Prince?"
Ragnar stood, straightening his cloak where it had caught on his armor.
"Yes, I am Prince Ragnar, Seventh Prince of Jotunheim. Now, I have some business to take care of."
As he walked away, he didn't get to see the girl stare after him and mouth his title.
Ragnar headed towards the two captive Surtr, who were looking stonily at him as he approached.
"Where is the main force of the Surtr?" He said bluntly, coming to stand in front of the older looking man.
The old man spit in his face, and began to curse him.
Luigi slammed a booted foot into the man's jaw, snapping his neck to the side. The old man huddled on the ground, spitting out several teeth.
"We'll never tell you anything!" The younger one yelled, Ragnar thought they almost looked like father and son…
Threaten the son, and the father shall surely yield! The beast called to him.
No, we are not animals. He chastised.
Ragnar stood, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his face.
"Get these two in irons," He called to his men, "Take whatever you can from the homestead, and make sure the woman are taken care of. We'll set up camp for the rest of the night, and ride out in the morning!"
His guards set to their work, while Ragnar looked up at stars.
Annie, I hope you're okay. I'll be back with you soon enough.
But he knew in his heart that he may not see her for quite some time.