The air is thick with the clamor of iron and the shouts of warriors, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting long shadows over the churned ground. The smell of sweat and blood mingles with the damp earth beneath Vili's feet as he stands on the fringes of the throng gathered before the outermost wall of the fortress. Kjotve himself emerges from the shadowy innards of the fortress as his men chant his name, torchlight illuminating the beastly man. Vili listens to Kjotve postulate his impending victory and searches the crowd for Hytham or Basim. He has not seen the latter since they disembarked and the former since they spoke earlier. Their disagreement has left a lingering ache in Vili's chest and a troubled heaviness in his mind. He fears what Hytham may do.
Vili returns his attention to Eivor as she steps forward and challenges Kjotve to holmgang. The fool accepts the challenge and declares he can defeat Eivor with his bare hands, leaving his dual axes cleaved to a wooden post. Vili moves with the crowd of onlookers, simultaneously watching Eivor fight viciously while still seeking out familiar white robes in the shadows.
He smirks as Kjotve is forced to take up his weapons once more. Eivor is far more prepared for this fight than their previous encounter and Vili knows how cunning in battle Eivor can be, something Kjotve is witnessing first hand. The amusement is quickly wiped away as Kjotve charges Eivor and throws them both over the edge of a pit.
Vili rushes to the precipice with the other warriors, their armored bodies obscuring his view. Shoving his way forward, he sees Eivor is still on the ground, a grimace of pain etched across her face and her ankle askew. Kjotve stalks towards her at a sedated pace, confident in her imminent demise.
Heart thrumming to the rhythm of the chants around him, Vili searches for a viable way to aid Eivor without interfering. For a moment the world is washed in greys, blues, and reds then a flicker of gold-blue catches his eye. Blinking, Vili sees Hytham standing a few paces away, cloaked in the penumbra cast by the onlookers. A chill runs down Vili's spine as sees the tension in Hytham's stance, the subtle shift in his posture, muscles coiling tightly. He knows what his friend is about to do and pushes his way through the crowd to Hytham's side. Vili's breath catches in his throat as he sees Kjotve turning towards them.
"Hytham, wait!" Vili hisses as he reaches out, fingers straining to grasp Hytham's tunic. The fabric slips through his fingers like a lifeline cut loose and Vili feels a surge of fear. In a heartbeat Hytham is leaping from the edge, not realizing Kjotve will see him, and not knowing that Eivor's instincts will betray him.
"Hytham!" Eivor's voice rings out, a cry of shock and disbelief.
It serves as a warning to Kjotve. The brute of a man moves in the blink of an eye, grabbing Hytham as he descends and uses the momentum to swing him towards the unforgiving rock walls of the pit. The sound of wood cracking and Hytham's agonized cry cut through the air as he crashes into a supply crate, wood splintering around him. Vili's heart clenches as he sees Hytham crumple to the cold ground amidst the debris.
"Kjotve!" Eivor shouts, "Face me and let us end this!"
Vili watches as she forces herself to her feet, eyes blazing with equal parts fury and pain. Kjotve turns to her with a snarl, rolling his shoulders, and stalks towards her. Vili's eyes widen as he sees Hytham regain his footing, unsteady though no less determined, and surges towards Kjotve. His hidden blade strikes true, piercing through the thick clothing and into Kjotve's side under the ribs. It is not a killing blow.
With a guttural yell, Kjotve twists around and grabs Hytham, throwing him to the ground, and drives his boot down with such force it elicits a scream from Hytham. Kjotve picks Hytham up by the neck, lifting him effortlessly, and silencing his cries. Vili's focus narrows to a needlepoint.
"You think you can deceive me, Wolfkissed?" Kjotve snarls, shaking Hytham for emphasis, "Brining this whelp to fight your battles?"
Before Eivor can respond, Vili moves. Throwing a knife aimed for Kjotve's arm, Vili leaps into the pit between Kjotve and Eivor, and rolls from his shoulder to his feet. The knife finds its mark in the flesh of Kjotve's forearm, and he instinctively loosens his grasp on Hytham. Vili throws two more knives in quick succession before drawing his scimitar and charges towards Kjotve with a battle cry.
He would rather his polearm axe, or really anything bigger than the sword he wields, but it will have to do. The two knives have found their target, lodging in Kjotve's side. The beastly man roars as he rips the knives from his flesh and barrels towards Vili, war axe hoisted high. Vili ducks under the arc of the axe and slashes Kjotve's exposed side before rolling away from the next attack. His back is to Hytham now and he can faintly hear his friend coughing and retching through the din of cheering and Kjotve's wild yells.
Beyond Kjotve, Vili can see Eivor reclaiming her battle axe and shield, staggering towards them. The momentary distraction gives Kjotve an opening to swing his axe into a high slash and Vili scarcely moves in time to avoid a devastating blow. The very tip of the axe blade still catches him high on the cheek, jerking his head to side with its momentum. Vili's head snaps the other way as Kjotve backhand slashes through the air and nicks the other side of his face. With a bellow, Kjotve kicks Vili in the stomach, sending him sprawling.
Vili grunts as the back of his head hits the hard ground, splotches of colored light obscuring his vision momentarily. Instincts scream at him and Vili rolls to the side, narrowly missing the blade of Kjotve's axe as it grinds into the earth. Eivor's shield slams into Kjotve's back, causing him to stagger, and giving Vili the opportunity to scramble to his feet, putting several paces between them. Kjotve growls and flings Eivor's shield back at her. She deftly dodges despite her injured ankle and yells in defiance before charging Kjotve.
Blinking to clear his vision, Vili stumbles forward, intending to rush Kjotve and give Eivor the opening she needs to end this. Belatedly he notices how close they have moved to where Hytham is still prone on the ground. Vili is horrified as Kjotve grabs Hytham by the ankle and flings him into the air towards Eivor. She dives to the side to avoid being caught under his weight and can hardly spare Hytham a fleeting glance before rolling out of the way of Kjotve's axe.
Vili is caught off guard as Kjotve suddenly switches his focus to heave a corpse into the air, and Vili is not quick enough to avoid it. The impact rushes the air from his lungs and pins him beneath the dead weight. Vili's head spins as he crawls out from under the lifeless body, but not before Kjotve has reached him and lashes out with a giant paw to clutch around Vili's face like a fleshly cage.
Kjotve's fingers dig into Vili's skin as he is dragged to his knees, pain and desperation obscuring his vision. Vili slashes out with his hidden blade, cutting along Kjotve's forearm and digging into the meat of Kjotve's bicep, ripping through the sinew. The towering brute shouts in anger and tightens his grip until Vili is sure it will crush his skull.
Vili cries out as the back of his head is thrown into unyielding rock and his vision blooms into white stars. Kjotve pulls him forward with intent to deliver the final blow when a rush of movement catches his eye. Eivor leaps onto Kjotve's broad shoulders and haphazardly buries her blade into the man's neck.
The end of the holmgang is swift and brutal.
Eivor's blade burrows deep into the vulnerable flesh with a wet squelch, blood coming forth like a geyser. Kjotve staggers back, losing his grip on Vili and chokes out a curse. Vili seizes the moment to roll away from the collapsing giant and hurries to his feet. His and Eivor's harsh breaths fill the pit for a moment as Kjotve's life blood leeches into the ground. The ensuing cacophony of cheers and chants as Eivor stands victorious is deafening in Vili's ringing ears.
"Vili!" Eivor's voice cuts through his skull, eliciting a gasp.
"You arse-stick, are you alright?" She asks a bit quieter as she carefully kneels beside him. He did not even realize he had fallen to his knees.
"I will live." Vili's voice comes out in a choked rasp. He turns and spits out the bloodied saliva cloying against his tongue.
"Hytham?" Eivor inquires, eyes wide as she peers around him. Vili follows her line of sight to where Hytham lays unmoving.
"I have him." Vili winces as the words scratch his dry throat. Helping each other to their feet, their eyes meet briefly and Vili nods in reassurance before staggering away towards Hytham. Behind him, Eivor's voice calls out as she confronts Gorm Kjotvesson, cowardly watching from within the fortress. The ringing in Vili's ears crescendos and the rest of the battle around him is quickly tuned out, his focus solely on Hytham.
"Hytham," Vili croaks, sinking to his knees beside his friend, "You best be alive, fíflan*."
As he moves to roll Hytham onto his back, Vili is overtaken by a surge of vertigo and squeezes his eyes tightly, swallowing thickly against the bile in the back of his throat. Prying his eyes open, he is met with ashy skin and dark hair blurring in and out of focus. With shaky hands, he fumbles to find a pulse, weak but there. Relief washes over Vili, heavy and numbing, and he pushes himself upright.
Shouts accompany the ringing in his ears, distant and distorted, and Vili feels his mouth draw into a frown. He needs to asses Hytham's injuries, needs to see what is broken, if there is an internal wound- but the radiating pain in the back of his head is all consuming without the heat of battle to fuel him. Figures move in and out of his periphery, shadowy and hazy. He blinks to clear his vision, and suddenly Basim is there, face stricken, the most emotion Vili has ever seen on the man's face, and it makes his stomach flip. Basim's lips move, forming words that he cannot quite grasp.
"... needtomove… stre-… quick… ly. Vili?"
The ground seems to open into a dark maw as Vili tries to stand, knees buckling under him. Strong arms brace him and Vili leans into them, confused as to why he cannot walk on his own. He is guided away, steps short and wavering. Basim's voice hums wordlessly in his ear and Vili strains himself to understand what is being said.
"Iwil-… n-…head… wound…"
Sounds merge into a dull roar, the world settling into a slow, disorienting dance that Vili groans against. Vili's mind begins to drift, searching for solitude in the confusion, tethered only by the need to remain upright. Basim's presence is a steady anchor, his voice a comfort despite Vili's lack of understanding. His surroundings dramatically shift into indistinct shapes and colors, a cyclone of motion that does not cease even when he shuts his eyes. He feels himself being lowered onto something narrow and rough, the coldness of the earth seeping through. A heavy darkness presses in on Vili and the last thing he hears is Basim's voice murmuring,
"... I have you…"
A/N: * Old Norse, fíflan = fool
I was disappointed that the Kjotve fight was brief and didn't have the emotional impact it should've had. But, I think I've fixed that, at least, for this story. (ya know, by making it worse for all the characters! whump-ity, bump-ity, friends :))