A Shield of Strength - A Warlord's Saga

by Barbarian2020

Warlord and Jarl, Herleif Bjornson, receives an invitation to raid deep into Ashfeld, but the fires of war obscure the path before him with death and treachery. Upon the war-torn slopes of Mount Ignis, he will make his stand and fight for all that he believes in, and everyone he holds dear. A Warlord is the shield of his people, and he will not fall.

51. Little Battles

The Walled City remained quiet as the days passed after the battle. What life remained within the mountain sprawl was dominated now by the Viking menace, like maggots infesting a corpse.

High among the rising peaks, Mount Ignis slumbered once again while far below, the Viking horde continued its desperate search for the missing vault key. No building, regardless of how burned-out, dilapidated, or merely insignificant, was left unchecked as the Northmen scrounged through the blackened destruction of their own making in hopes of finding the key to their magnificent prize. King Erik had been furious to learn of Osric Ead's death so soon after the city had been taken, and worse yet, that the key remained lost after searching the tower of the High Priest from top to bottom. Now every able-bodied warrior not already set with the task of moving their camp within the city walls, or tending to the wounded and the dead, was looking for the key. They searched in groups through squares and grand villas from one end of the city to the other or worked in shifts moving through entire blocks of shops and warehouses at a time. In the blink of an eye, the collective focus of the horde had switched from seeking honor and battle fame through war to finding a way to secure the city's vast treasure locked within the vault.

The fact that they searched in vain kept Priscilla's heart racing at all hours of the day.

"What about here?" she asked, stepping up to the parapet of the city wall and looking to the ground below. It was a dizzying drop, and the memory of dangling from the high tower's edge to escape Ivar's warriors was still too fresh in her mind to keep her throat from going tight. She tapped her fingers against the crenelations, then stepped back and took a steadying breath.

Coal stepped beside her and nodded his head back to where the rising domes and spires of the Walled City stood stark against the gray sky. "No, we're well within sight of that tower there. We'd be caught for sure."

Priscilla blinked up at the tower, seeing that Coal was right, then nodded. She was wearing just her hood today, and the cool breeze coming over the plain felt good on her face. Her helmet remained back in the square where she and the rest of the Lion Flame had set up camp near Herleif's own warriors, and it was nice not to have to deal with the smell of her own breath and stale sweat all day in exchange for the protection the dark metal helmet gave. For now, at least, she was afforded the rare chance just to walk about town and enjoy the day. Or at least that's how she wanted things to appear.

"We will keep looking then," she said, sparing a glance toward the never-ending swath of scrubland that boarded the mountains to the west.

The camp the Viking horde had set up was all but gone now. Only a few skeletal tent frames remained among a scattered collection of refuse now that the Northmen had fully moved within the city walls. It was unclear just how long the Vikings would be willing to remain here while they searched for the key or tried to open the vault doors another way, but the plan would move forward regardless of that outcome, and so she had to prepare.

They walked together along the walls scoping what defenses the Vikings had set up since the city's fall. Archers were staged on the lookout on most of the towers, searching the horizon for any sign of danger that might appear upon the horizon. The city gate rose like a black monolith against the sky, its entire structure burned by the fire that had raged through the whole battle from the Wu Lin's terrible fire bombs. It had taken nearly two days for the fire to burn itself out, and by then had contributed to most of the smoke that hung in the air, making the entire city smell like some giant roasting pit. The ram used to break down the gates had been left standing in the now empty portal, put under heavy guard, and used as a cumbersome roadblock to control who went in and out of the city by the King's command.

All in all, the burned-out, battle-scarred, heathen-infested city had now fallen into a sense of tense boredom, where the Viking occupiers were torn between their want to revel in such a glorious victory and their need to find the key so that they might claim their treasure and return home. Of the Divine Pyre, both their army of renegade Knights and the desperate masses fooled into worshiping the volcano under the control of the priests, most were being sequestered to be taken back to Valkenheim as slaves. The strong men and healthy young women who would fetch a good price in the flesh markets across the north were constantly watched by Erik's warriors or put to work already serving their new Viking masters. The rest had been put to the sword in the days since the battle was won or sometimes used as target practice for throwing axes or arrows, a sport for the Vikings to pass the time.

Priscilla told herself that there was nothing she could do to save them now, but it had gotten harder to sleep since it became clear that the screams would not stop just because the fighting had come to an end.

Following the path atop the wall, they passed by a group of Ivar's warriors shirking their duties of searching for the key and instead had stolen away to this more quiet section of the city with a keg of ale to share. The Northmen had not even given her and Coal a passing glance as they shared their cups and laughed about who among them had failed to take any heads during the siege. Priscilla briefly wondered if the barbarians had even noticed them or if the sight of two Lion Flame Knights was a common enough occurrence now to no longer warrant any attention. She picked up her pace anyway until the sounds of the warrior's laughter grew quiet behind them.

"What do you think?" asked Coal, nodding up at a tower that rose above them and cast a shadow across their path.

"Mm, perhaps," Priscilla said, stepping in for a closer look.

A crane had been built at the tower's base, stretching outward above a set of large wooden doors set into the stone floor. Clearly, this was a spot where supplies and weapons could be hauled up from the storage rooms below, with the tower acting as a small command post along the long stretches of wall. The crane itself was fixed upon a wheel to rotate freely once it had brought up its load to be deposited where needed. Priscilla looked it over and noted how the neck of the crane had quite the reach to it, so much that if turned around enough upon its wheel, the rope and hook could reach right over the edge of the wall itself.

In a siege, such a thing could prove to be a dangerous liability. Any turncoat secretly placed within the fortress city might be able to lower the rope and allow attackers to climb up the wall without much notice. A small force, not an entire army, but enough to do some damage and make it to the gate. From this spot of the wall, though, the gatehouse was a long way off, and it was hard to imagine anyone fighting through legions of defenders to open the gate without first being caught or killed.

However, if the crane was used as a way to get outside the walls for a quick escape...

"It's quiet," said Coal, looking around to make sure that they were indeed alone. They had walked far to the city's northern end, near where the volcano began to slope upward before them, and the open plain stretched outward to the south and west where the horde had marched from. "Quiet is good."

"Quiet is good," Priscilla nodded. "The question is, will things remain that way?"

She stepped up to the parapet and gazed again at the land below. A few shrubs and large stones dotted the landscape before them, making for good cover if anyone reached the ground. If everything went according to plan and God was generous with his protection, the Viking's attention would be on the city gate when the time came. There was a good chance that this section of the wall would be lightly guarded as a result, if it was guarded at all. Priscilla touched her hand to the pouch holding the Wu Lin formulae on her belt, hoping she could be that lucky.

"This might be it. Or as good as it can get, at least," she said.

Coal leaned against the wall beside her perfectly rigid form with the languid ease of a soldier used to waiting through the quiet before the storm of battle. He sighed and effortlessly gave voice to what they were both thinking, but what Priscilla would prefer to remain unsaid. "Meaning we're one fuck up away from a painful death and fiery damnation, as usual."

"You have such a beautiful way with words. Truly, this war has robbed us of one of the greatest poets of our time."

"Don't I know it," grumbled Coal, his dark curls blowing in the wind as he grinned. "If only my father had urged me to join a bards college instead of teaching me how to break faces with my fists. But maybe I'll have a second chance at life when we make our proper return to civilization. I suppose we'll be rejoining them soon enough, right?"

Priscilla lifted her brows and squinted out toward the horizon, trying not to let Coal paint too vivid of a picture of his sorrowful past in her head. "That is the plan, yes."

Coal gave a soft grunt and a nod, then went quiet. They stood together in blissful silence for a moment, and Priscilla was already wondering what sort of point he was determined to make when he opened his mouth and said, "So, I guess they're out there then, just waiting."

Priscilla looked out across the open plain, squinting against the haze that seemed to permanently hang over the burned city. Slopping hills stood darkly against the vast sky, with the distant horizon remaining unbroken and still even as she scrutinized it for any sign of movement or irregularity. Maybe if she looked hard enough and watched long enough, the flash of metal might catch her eye and make her heart leap into her throat before dropping into her stomach like a stone. For now, though, she saw nothing.

"No, not yet," she whispered at last. "Soon, though. Very soon."

"Think it will all go down how you're imagining it?"

She set her elbows upon the crenelations and rested her chin over her arms as she sighed. "How am I imagining it, Coal?"

Coal shrugged, "The Legion Council honors their word. The Vikings are slaughtered, and the ever gracious Lord-Warden reinstates your legion and welcomes you all back as heroes. I'm sure he's not the kind to take it personally when one of his legions flees across the sea to join forces with Ashfeld's oldest enemy."

"It was not as if I had much choice at the time, but yes, I expect him to honor our agreement," Priscilla said tersely and then side-eyed Coal next to her. "And for the record, this is your legion as well, so you better hope he does not go back on his word."

"A man of his word, is he? You know that for a fact?" Coal asked her, and she shot him a dirty look that said he was stepping onto dangerous ground. He grinned at her like she had just shared a funny joke instead and continued without fear. "From what I've heard told, you were set to become his right-hand in ruling all of Ashfeld, but that didn't stop him from playing you and Elise Allard like a couple of puppets dancing on strings. He sure as fuck cut your strings without a second thought. You really think a conscript like me has a chance staying with you lot once all your chivalry and honor is rightfully restored?"

"If you do not like the plan, then you are more than welcome to come up with a better one."

"Maybe Judith has the right idea after all. Maybe we would be better off trying to make a new home for ourselves in the north at this point. At least they don't want to throw me in a hole or send me off to battle after battle until it's finally my time to meet the Almighty. Well, Herleif doesn't want to see me thrown in a hole. Can't say the same for you, though."

Priscilla lifted her head and rubbed at her temples. "So let me get this straight. After all that we have accomplished, and even after we have come so far to fixing what the Pyre ruined, now you want to just throw it all away and actually try our chances with the Vikings?"

"As opposed to what," Coal shot back, and he fixed her with a hard look that she found impossible to turn away from, "actually believing that Judith will thank you when you finally tell her what you've done?"

Her next breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she felt a hot flush of fear starting in the pit of her stomach and rising to her face. "I will make her see reason," she said with quiet menace. "She has to, or there will be no mercy for any of us."

Coal appeared indifferent to her determination as he turned to look out across the plain. "If you say so. I'm here because I wasn't given a choice. The rest of you, though... Judith believes in what she is doing; that much is clear. Why are you fighting so hard to work against that?"

"Because this is our home!" Priscilla shouted, finally losing herself to the anger welling inside her. She rounded on Coal, blinking away the hot sting of tears from her eyes as she grabbed her finger at him like he was a direct threat to everything she had achieved all these long months on the run.

Baring her teeth, she let all the emotion she had so carefully kept locked away and let it loose with heart-racing fervor. "You may think yourself to be the only one here who did not have a choice or was only doing as you were commanded, but do not believe for an instant that you are alone in losing everything that mattered in your life! The Lion Flame gave me a home when I had none. Judith took me in when I was made a pariah at court, and when I thought I could sink no further, it was because of this legion that I was given purpose again. And you expect me to just forget all of that and turn my back on what we had here? Judith and the rest may not be able to see past their anger toward the Council, but my judgment remains unclouded! I refuse to let this legion be written off as worthless traitors and its reputation left tarnished in the annals of history. Everyone else may have lost their minds right alongside the Pyre, but I have been the only one working to get us back to where we belong, and I will be damned by God and all his angels before I stop now!"

Her voice echoed off into the distance, perhaps attracting unwanted attention and bringing all of her efforts to a bitter end, or perhaps not. This was a city of heathens and ghosts now, and neither seemed interested in a small, young Knight losing herself to unimaginable guilt and secrecy.

Coal shifted awkwardly against the parapet, looking at her, down at his feet, up to the sky, and back to her. He licked his lips, looked about to say something, then sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair before letting his eyes roam again.

"Fuck!" Priscilla hissed, finding his silence almost as annoying as his constant questions, if not worse. "I am not an idiot, Coal; I know how fucking fragile this plan was, to begin with. I have more challenges to overcome than guarantees that anything I do will matter, but I have no choice but to try. We have come this far and survived, so please, stop making me question what little hope I am still holding onto. It has never done me any good, but right now, it is all I have," she bit off her last two words at Coal like they might inflict the same pain he had caused her, "Just stop."

Coal gave a loud swallow and set his jaw. He thumped a closed fist against the wall and waited another moment before finally speaking again.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice tight and his eyes dark. "I guess the idea of starting somewhere new sounded pretty good the more I thought about it. Not much for me to look forward to if we succeed, you know? Can't really see myself getting off the leash just because I helped hand over a few important notes to the Council, but... I understand. You had something here before it all went to shit, and you want that back. I get it. I just hope you don't end up hurt if things don't turn out how you want them to. Maybe that's what I'm holding onto right now."

Priscilla ground her teeth and spoke without thought. "It is not goodwill and kind sentiment I need from you, Coal. I just need you to do as you are told."

The air might have frozen around them for how her words stabbed into Coal like ice. Priscilla saw in that instant how his face fell and then hardened against cruel indifference, and she knew then the damage in him that she had wrought with words rather than blades.

"Right," muttered Coal, still working on hiding his feelings behind one of his grins. "You hold the leash now, just as Elise intended. I won't forget again."

Priscilla bit down on her lip and struggled to control the turmoil of her mind, wanting all at once to tell Coal where he could stick his imaginary leash and beg his forgiveness at the same time.

"What about Gunnar, though? How does he fit into this grand plan of yours now?"

Was that a jab of his own? An attempt to hurt her back with what he knew was a weakness she did not know how to handle? Almost certainly, and she couldn't help but admire his ruthless instinct to fight back rather than obediently come to heel. Even as a Conqueror, the Mothers of the Sisterhood would have undoubtedly been impressed.

Priscilla sighed, letting her face fall into her hands. "Gunnar is a choice," she muttered as she rubbed at her eyes, "one that I will make when the time comes."

Coal gave a snort of laughter. "Sure. You just focus on how to reclaim your own home. I'm sure Gunnar will be just fine when it's time for him and the heathens to return north. If he gets the chance..."

That comment sent all thoughts of apology fleeing from Priscilla's mind. Being at odds with the one person in this whole city who was meant to be helping her was enough of a setback, and she did not need thoughts of Gunnar making things more muddled. Might it be something she wanted, however? That sort of thinking only made her even angrier, and she turned to take out her frustration on Coal when another voice made her jump in surprise after being alone with the Conqueror for so long.

"If I had spotted two Knights skulking about on their own a month ago, I would have suspected them of being up to no good!" echoed Gunnar's booming voice as he ascended a set of stairs leading down from the wall to the street below. Even without looking, Priscilla could hear his smile as he caught them alone yet again. "Luckily, you have been found out by someone who knows better."

"Has the time come?" Coal asked under his breath. "Better make a decision, quick."

Priscilla closed her eyes and sighed, taking a moment to say a quiet prayer before she turned and faced the persistent, well-meaning, and utterly troublesome Raider. "Please, God, why can it not be me who sneaks up on these northern brutes for once? Why?"

Gunnar finished climbing the steps and approached. He was without his helmet, and his long hair was loose about his shoulders, and he cradled his great axe in one arm as he stepped up and clapped a friendly hand on Coal's pauldron. Coal patted his arm, but it was a half-hearted gesture, and when Gunnar gave Priscilla a warm smile, she could only give him a tight-lipped grin in return. She was not unhappy to see him, as they had not yet had the chance to speak much after what had happened down in the tunnel during the siege, but she was not sure if she was ready to face him with everything else weighing on her mind just now.

"I have been looking for you. Heard you shouting from down the way," Gunnar said.

Priscilla's heart skipped a beat, wondering how much of their argument he had overheard. Gunnar may have been privy to Apollyon's armor not being held within the vault as promised, but there was still more to the plan that he was not aware of, and for now, at least, she wanted to keep it that way. Whatever feelings of passion that were slowly beginning to grow between them since this journey began, she did not know if it was something she intended to carry to the very end of her ordeal or beyond.

Thankfully, Gunnar's next words put her at ease for the time being, as he looked at her in all earnest and gently asked, "Are you two alright?"

A breath slipped slowly between her lips, and she glanced at Coal for a moment. The Conqueror met her eyes but then just as quickly looked down to his feet. "Yes," she said finally, "everything is fine."

Gunnar nodded but squinted suspiciously between her and Coal. "If you say so. Erik still has us searching for the second key, and Herleif wanted me to give the tower where Osric was shouting his little speeches another look. I said I would, but something tells me I'd have better luck finding Odin's missing eye in that tower before I come across the key."

His eyes fell solely on her, and Priscilla bristled under the stern gaze, knowing he had the right of it but feeling the need to deflect suspicion anyway. She had not told him anything of what happened after the battle, of where she had gone as Erik led the Vikings to the city vault with the key taken off of Kazamir, but here he stood, making jokes as if he had been by her side the entire way up the tower. No doubt he would have been if she had asked. Secrecy was her goal here, however, and even having him say such things for only the wind to hear on this deserted section of the wall made her chest go tight.

"Why would I know anything about a second key?" she asked him. Gunnar looked at her in surprise and then glanced at Coal. She rounded on the Conqueror in a heartbeat, her words hissing between her teeth. "What did you tell him?"

Coal scoffed but didn't meet her eye. "Nothing he didn't deserve to know. Maybe you should have been more specific with your orders to keep quiet, my Lady." Priscilla pulled back her lips to spit curses at the apparent disdain with which he said 'my Lady,' but Gunnar spoke first.

"Do not blame him. I saw you were missing after the battle and grew concerned, so I asked," Gunnar said, then gestured at the bandage wrapped around her arm, the one covering the scar Osric Ead had given her in the tower. "What happened?"

She crossed her arms and shrugged, not one to give information up freely just because she was asked. "Nothing. Personal business."

"Another blood feud, eh?" he grinned. Setting down his axe, he stepped beside her and leaned over the wall, the wind fluttering his long hair about his face. He bit at his lip in the way he did whenever he was truly concerned, and Priscilla could feel her cheeks heating up despite her agitation with him as he looked her up and down and quietly asked, "Were you the one who killed the High Priest?"

Now she refused to respond at all, pressing her lips tightly together and her eyes fixed out on the horizon rather than meet his deep sea-blue gaze. For some reason, as if any of it might actually matter, she did not want to hear him go on about how the Vikings had intended to use Osric as a blood sacrifice or that it had been foolish of her to go off alone. Who was he to tell her off over taking a life that was as good as owed to her? Him, Gunnar the Bear, with all of his boasting and talk of saga tales and legends? He did not have the right to say such things to her. No one had the right to tell her that what she did in that tower was wrong, not after she had witnessed firsthand the death and torment brought about by that bastard's lies.

However, Gunnar said something else entirely. Instead of berating her or speaking as if she had stolen something that was not hers to take, he simply put a gentle hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She flinched at his warmth, her dark eyes snapping to him in wonder and suspicion. He really did have such a comforting touch for such big, rough hands.

"That is good," he said to her, grinning earnestly. "I'm glad it was you. A fitting end to a mighty saga, if you ask me."

Priscilla's mouth went dry, and her cheeks flushed. Of all the people she had ever met in her life, despite all those who had abandoned her when she had needed them the most, she did not know why it was this savage from the north who always seemed to stand with her now. It hardly made any sense to her. They didn't belong together, but it seemed that fate, or God, had other ideas, and who was she to complain? If Gunnar wanted to stay by her side when no one else would, maybe she would be happier having him there after all.

It almost didn't seem fair. Gunnar, after all, had never been part of her plan.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Her eyes lingered on him, taking in the hard lines of his face, his heavyset brow, and the sparkle in his eyes. The way the corner of his lips curved up into that gentle grin beneath his beard, and may God strike her down where she stood if her heart did not skip a beat within her chest.

For his part, Gunnar said nothing more, telling her all she needed to know with his vibrant eyes instead. That did nothing to help relieve the heat blooming in Priscilla's cheeks. She cleared her throat and, telling herself that it was better to keep an eye on Gunnar rather than let him wander up and down the tower searching in vain, asked him, "Would you care for some company on your search?"

Gunnar's brows rose in surprise, but his smile grew all the warmer. "If you're offering, I would be glad of it."

She told herself again that it was just to make sure he didn't find himself wandering into any trouble. Better to keep him close rather than leave any loose ends when she was so close to completing the quest. But still, the day was young, the sun was shining, and the threat of gratuitous violence was a fading possibility for the time being. It may not be such a bad thing to spend some time with Gunnar away from the rest of his kin now that the opportunity had presented itself.

"I suppose I could make the time," she smiled at him and dared to touch a hand to his muscled arm as she turned away from the wall.

Now it was Gunnar's rugged face that flushed pink, and she could not deny herself the barest sense of satisfaction to see it. She should have known better. Most likely, whatever this was between them would only end in tragedy one way or another. The path she walked would surely take her away from him eventually but for now...

The deathly quiet of the tunnel crept back from the dark corners of her mind. Nothing but dirt. Dirt and dust covered the spot where Gunnar had just been.

Priscilla suppressed a shiver and, surprisingly enough, found comfort in the sound of Gunnar's footsteps following behind her. She ignored Coal's sideways glance as she passed him by, letting him decide for himself if he would come along or not. She didn't feel much like tugging on his leash at the moment. From the dark frown on his face, it was clear that he was still grumpy with what she had said, and in all honesty, she couldn't blame him. Perhaps she should apologize to him, but not now.

Sometimes, a warrior had to pick and choose which battles they fought. Even the little ones.