Chapter 9

The silence that filled the hall at the discovery of Levir's treachery was worrying. The morale of the men was plummeting and if I didn't act, it would become crippling. But what were my options? No, nothing has changed. We still have the advantage. I don't see Aela so she must be hidden and waiting for a sign. I still had Gentle and Gunnar with me, and they were ferocious in combat. Their savagery alone should put the bandits on the back foot. Ivar, he can cast a few spells. And we still have some villagers left. Nothing has changed.

The real question is whether I will be able to save Jaren. The man has grown on me and I'd rather not see him die. If worse comes to worst, I'll just use my thu'um to add enough chaos for him to escape. That's the best I can do, it'll have to be enough. I looked over my shoulder towards Gentle and Gunnar and nodded. They grinned a bloodthirsty grin. No doubt glad that I wouldn't change my plans, that they could still run wild.

Donning my helmet, I took a deep breath to center myself. Once that was done, I pushed open the door with Floki, Sceolang, Gentle and Gunnar fanning out beside me. The bandits appeared shocked by our appearance. I noticed one of them even took an involuntary step back. Good to know that not all of them were hardened warriors.

Their leader, looking nonplussed, slightly loosened his grip on his sword. This drew his blade away from Jaren's neck. This was an opportunity. They are mentally unstable at the moment. I can't allow them to recover, I must push forward.

"You speak of decency, since when have vermin, who's only capable of bullying the weak, have the gall to speak of such things?" My words were spoken harshly and coldly, lashing out at all those present. Collectively, they all looked indignant. That was good, let's push a bit more.

"I had imagined, expected even, more than this rabble." I raised my sword and waved it in their vicinity, clearly showing my contempt.

"What about you, Gentle? What do you think of this sorry excuse for men?" I asked in disappointment. Gentle, never one to miss an opportunity to break an opponent mentally as much physically replied.

"Ha, it'd be a miracle if there was a cock between them! No, maybe the real bandits sent these whore's sons here to warm us up a bit. I wonder though, if the bandits sent these bastards here, who's going to keep them warm at night after they're dead!?"

I had to fight the urge to laugh. Gentle had a colorful view of the world. Even the villagers who were near a mental breakdown chuckled at the insults. And judging by the faces of the bandits, they were on the verge of outright charging.

"I agree. Just look at the company they keep. Even a whore needs to vent every once in a while. Our good friend Levir over there is a perfect outlet for such frustrations. He's quick to fucking bend over and spread cheeks it seems." I added as much venom as I could muster.

The traitor seemed to flinch, as if I slapped him. As we spoke, I scanned the area, looking for any sign of Aela. Eventually I spotted her atop the roof of one building, to the rear of the bandits. We locked eyes, and she nodded while drawing an arrow and taking aim.

"Shut the fuck up! You seem to have forgotten that your outnumb- gack!"

The bandit leader roared his outrage. Unfortunately for him, Aela is an excellent shot. Before he could even finish, an arrow penetrated the back of his skull and came out his mouth. He made a gurgling sound, and blood bubbled from his mouth. Like a puppet with its strings cut, the leader dropped to the ground, dead. The death was so sudden that the other bandits seemed unable to process what just happened. Jaren, to his credit, only took a moment before he got up and ran towards us.

His actions broke the spell that hung over the others. But before they could make any decision, we charged. Gentle, Gunnar, and I roared a battle cry filled with untold savagery. It washed over the bandits and gave us that extra few seconds as we closed on them.

"Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Floki and Sceolang were the first. They leapt on an unlucky man and dragged him to the floor. He screamed as their powerful jaws clamped down on flesh. Once they had him in their grasp, a sickening crunch could be heard mixed in with his pitiful screams. They pulled and shook violently, tearing chunks off the man. Ripping through hide and flesh alike, as if peeling the meat from the bone of a well-made steak. Floki, having had enough of the man, went for the throat and ripped out the source of her irritation, silencing the man for good.

"Come, taste the smile of my axe!" Gentle yelled, bearing down on a frightened man. The man raised his sword in his defence. That was his last mistake. Gentle's axe collided with his sword, knocking it aside and burying itself in the man's shoulder. The axe bit into the man's shoulder and eviscerated him. Blood and bile pooled at the man's feet. He was too shocked to scream, just staring wide eyed at his entrails hanging from his exposed abdomen. Gentle, not paying the man any heed, charged towards his next victim.

"Wraaaaaaaagh"

Gunnar roared as he hacked into his foe. Sword sliced flesh while axe chopped through bone. His arms were a blur as they swung with reckless abandon. He finished the man with a swing of his axe that savagely hacked off his lower jaw. Blood covered Gunnar's face and beard, giving his already unpleasant visage a demonic appearance. For what else could he be compared to but a demon? There was no grace or coordination in his movements, only ferocious intent.

I took all this in an instant as I came upon my first foe. The man had an axe that he held in one hand. I held the tip of my sword pointed at his face and took advantage of my reach. I took a step towards him, feigning a wild swing. He took that chance to dive into me, but I expected that. I quickly thrust my sword into his neck, driving it deep. His flesh parted before my blade with ease.

Before I knew it, two more men approached. I withdrew my blade, but I wasn't fast enough as one man lunged and cut me on my arm. But now he was exposed, too close to put up his guard. I gripped the handle of my sword with both hands and struck him in the face with my crossguard. With a crunch and broken teeth flying out, his head snapped back. He took two steps back, following the momentum of his head, leaving his entire body exposed to me.

Before I could strike, the other man thrust his sword. I backpedaled and paired his thrust and punched him in the face with my free hand. The blow was hard, and sure to have resulted in a broken nose, but the man kept his sword up, preventing me from advancing.

The other man finally recovered and pressed me from the other side. They sought to split my attention, creating an opening that one of them could capitalize on. These two seemed to have some understanding of combat, but the real threat was the second man. I tried to position myself to keep both of them in front of me. Every move I made they were quick to react, where one covered the other advanced. This was combat, and although my life could end at the slightest mistake, my blood sang in excitement.

A rush of adrenaline I haven't ever experienced before left me in a state of hyper focus. Every move was to set up another, a feint to lead to another, to possibly lead to an opening. Move, parry, riposte, parry, counter riposte. We danced a dance of death, this bloody field our stage, the gods our audience. I felt alive; I felt like a true Nord!

The first man slipped, and I feigned a lung drawing the second in. As he stepped forward, I swung my sword and as our blades clashed his sword wobbled and he fought to keep it in his hands. That was all the time I needed before I laid into the first man.

I attacked quickly, giving him no time to counter and as our blades clashed, I noticed a faint layer of frost cover his blade. Paying no further heed to the odd phenomenon, I made my finishing blow and sunk my blade into his heart.

Not sparing the dead man a second thought, I withdrew my sword and faced the second man. We stared at each other for a moment, our guards up, waiting for the other to act. I held my sword high above my head, ready to strike downward and hopefully overpower him. But then I quickly cast that tactic to the side. This man had some skill with a sword and as he was smaller, he was most likely faster, or quicker.

Taking a chance, I turned my wrist, keeping the handle in the same top position, but now instead of my sword tip pointing towards the sky, it now pointed downward towards him. The surrounding sounds seemed to disappear, and I eyed him up and down. I took a small step forward, and he took a step back. He maneuvered around, trying to look for an opening.

Losing patience, he slashed towards my head. Our blades met and our bodies came to a stop for a mere moment. In that instant, when our blades clashed, I made a quick rotation of my wrist. My sword spun around him, ending up on his unguarded and exposed left side. My blade struck his neck, and the moment I made contact, I drove my blade deep. The man fell to the ground, eyes wide in disbelief. He no doubt thought a man of my stature incapable of such complex maneuvers. That was his mistake, and now he lays dead in the snow.

I looked up and examined my surroundings. The fight was nearing its end. Gentle and Gunnar had just finished a man each, leaving two survivors. They stood side by side with their swords shaking. Suddenly one of them dropped to the ground, dead, with an arrow sticking out his neck. The last man looked on in shock and disbelief. He dropped his sword to the ground and put his hands in the air in surrender.

"I- I surrender! You win, just don't kill me!" he yelled, fear dripping from his voice.

I walked over to the man and stood a pace away. Looking down at him with a pleasant smile, I spoke in an amiable tone.

"I understand. We don't want to kill you. I want us to be friends, the others, they didn't want to be our friends. But I have a feeling that you're different in a way that they weren't. And I look forward to deepening our bond as friends. When we're done, I'll know everything there is to know about you. And do you know why? Because you'll tell me everything, so we can be staunch friends. I, can't, wait." The man dropped to his knees and convulsed. I terrified him. Good.