Viking Tales Part. 5

All four of them stood completely motionless. They could hear something upstairs coming toward them at an alarming pace. The sound it made was similar to a dog running on hardwood floors, its claws scraping across the wood. Each in turn stared at the other, and then burst into motion. Everyone was running around frantically, bumping into each other, trying to decide what to do and where to go; everyone that is except Groan. He simply stood there, stoically.

"We have to run"Kazi screamed. Fear evident in her eyes. She wrapped her arm around the sorcerer's waist and lifted him to his feet. He rapped his other arm around her shoulder for added support. "Run? Run where?" Harkamus asked. "Anywhere but here." She replied. "We have to buy time for him to regain his strength so he can get us out of here."

"Think, damn you, think" Harkamus whispered to himself. Panic started to set in.  Harkamus knew his life depended on his ability to get a grip on the situation. If they didn't act together all was lost. He knew they had to put distance between themselves and whatever was going to come bursting down the stairs at them. For the first time in his life he felt fear. It was something he couldn't explain. He had faced death many times on the battlefield and had never wavered, but there was something about this man that terrified him. He could only rationalize that the man had cast some sort of spell on him at their first meeting. While he stood there contemplating the situation, precious seconds ticked away. The clawing sound grew nearer with every passing moment. Both Kazi and Ying were staring at him, expecting orders.

"Give me the hand axe."

Harkamus turned, at these words, to stare at Groan.

"I'll stall him here.  I can buy you time to get away.  Take the girl and the wizard and run out to the garden.  You can hide there until the wizard recovers."  Holding out his hand, Groan waited for Hakamus to give him the axe.

Confused Harkamus looked at the old man doubting his sanity.  He said, "I can't let you do that old one."

Confusion etched on his worried face.

"Damn it boy give me the axe." Groan roared. "I'm too old to go running from things, and ill just slow you down. I can buy you the precious seconds you need." The old man stared straight at Harkamus.

In Harkamus' eyes, the old man grew to enormous proportions. No longer was he the old, weak drunk that Harkamus had first encountered in the storage room. He was a Viking again. The perpetual haze that had covered his eyes was gone, he stood back straight, and tall. Groan leaned close to Harkamus; sorrow briefly crossed his old eyes.

"Don't deny me this honor lad." He whispered. "My time has come, it does for us all. I can hear the Valkeries singing to me. I'm bound for Valhalla."

Harkamus jerked the axe from his belt and handed it to the old man. For a brief moment they clasped wrists, the salute of one warrior to another.  Harkamus turned from Groan and approached the other two, he held back tears of pride for the old man.

"Come, we have to go now." Harkamus ordered. He left the dining hall and reentered the kitchen. Kazi and Ying followed behind. Ying stopped her right at the dining room doorway. He turned his head back towards Groan and said something in a language unfamiliar to the old Viking.

"What was that?" Groan asked.

Kazi looked at him, a crooked smile bent up the side of her lips. "He said don't look in his eyes." With that, the three remaining companions left the room.

Groan turned his back to the parting companions, facing the direction the noises coming from. He could hear the sounds much clearer now. It was, as if, whatever was coming was right in the next room. Suddenly, the wall just to the left of where the sorcerer had been shackled burst apart. Huge chunks of plaster and wood were thrown all over the room. Groan ducked behind the table for cover. As the dust cleared, he adjusted his grip on the hand axe with his lone right arm. The creature that stood in the opening was awesome to behold. He could tell that whatever this was now, it was at one time Lord McNeil. The arms of the creature were basically human, but they had elongated to odd proportions. The fingertips came to razor sharp points, and hung to his knees. His legs were bent at odd angles, resembling the hind legs of a wolf or dog. But it was his head that was truly horrifying. What had once been a handsome man was now replaced with what could best be described as a demon. His nose was flat and slanted upwards like a bat. Ridges of skin overlapped his forehead, further darkening the pits of his eyes. His ears were pointed, with tufts of hair covering them. His mouth was huge. It covered his face from ear to ear, and was full of razor sharp teeth. Two oversized canine teeth jutted from his upper lip, causing lacerations on his lower lip.

Groan knew he should be scared. Hell, he should be downright terrified, but he wasn't. A calm like he had never felt came over him. He felt young again, and for the first time in over a decade clear headed. He knew his doom was here, and he reveled in it. Groan let out a roar and charged the creature. Screaming a reply to the challenge, the creature also charged. Both of them leapt simultaneously and met in midair. Groans axe slammed hard into the creatures shoulder, imbedding itself haft deep in its flesh. The combatants both crashed to the hard tiled floor, and rolled back and forth. The two men became as one, man and monster tangled together in a macabre dance of death. The creature's claws raked down Groans back and sides, and opened him up to the bone. Blood and sweat sprayed in all directions as they crashed into the dining room table?s legs. The table crashed down on top of them, then was thrown off as they continued their roll.

Groan was losing blood at an alarming rate, but he failed to notice. He was truly alive for the first time in many years. He jerked the axe from the creature's shoulder and slammed it home once again. The small axe was devastating. Somehow in their turmoil Groan had gained the mounted position and was now straddling the creature, its back to the ground. Ripping the axe free, he pounded it into the creature's head and shoulder region time and again. Lord McNeil continue to rake the Viking with his deadly claws, struggling to throw the wild man off of him. Time and again the small weapon came up and back down. Both men were covered head to toe in blood and gore.

Groan heard the call loudly now. Standing all around him, covered in a thin layer of fog, were his brothers and clansmen who had passed on before him. They all cheered his heroic deeds, and the sacrifices he had made. They smashed their axes into their shields in a salute to honor him. His grip on the axe slipped, and the weapon clanged onto the tile floor. In one swift motion, the creature below him brought his vicious claws to bear. With one quick stroke, he cut the old Viking open from ear to ear. Blood sprayed the floor in front of them, and Groan collapsed to the ground. Slowly the old, one-armed Viking stood. He looked down at his body that was now barely twitching. Both the creature and his body slowly faded from view. The men all around him solidified, and was no longer the intangible ghosts they were before. One lone man stepped forward from the crowd. His armor was made of pure gold. His long white beard lay against his breastplate, and one of his eyes had a black patch over it. Groan recognized him immediately

"Lord Odin!" Groan gasped.

The large figure clasped him on the back. "Its about time you joined us friend. You have been sorely missed. Tell us of your adventures, we have plenty of time."

Lord McNeil pulled himself up to a standing position. His right arm hung limply to his side, barely connected by a strip of flesh and muscle. The bone had been totally torn away from his shoulder socket, and the splinters floated around in the blood pooling down his side. His neck and head had several ugly lacerations, and he was losing blood from these as well. Never, since his transformation from human to vampire, had he come so close to being destroyed. He had totally underestimated the old Viking, and now he was paying for it. He knew what he had to do. Slowly he kneeled next to the old man, bent his head to meet the corpse's neck. He drank from the man's blood as fast as possible. The blood of the dead tended to go bad quickly, and he had to regain some strength fast.

He sat up from his meal, feeling the strength slowly flowing back into his body. He let the transformation slip from him, reverting him back to his human shape. Normally this process was seamless, but with the extensive damage done to him, it was not the case this time. The bones in his arm and shoulder melded together as he reverted, and caused excruciating pain. A primal scream erupted from him, and he collapsed to the floor. He was whole again, and would quickly recover, but he had lost precious time. He had to get the sorcerer back and fast, or all was lost.

Although physically exhausted, he still had the full power of his necromantic might. The words of power came to him, and flowed from his lips. He would stop them and bring that blasted magic user back to him, or he would kill them all. Either way, he would win.

Harkamus, Kazi, and Ying stumbled across the manor houses lawn. Harkamus constantly scanned the area for the garden that Groan had mentioned. He hoped to find trees or some such to shelter them. From somewhere deep within the house a scream tore through the night. The sound was so primal they all froze where they stood. Kazi turned to look back at the house, still supporting Ying on one shoulder. "Don't look back." Harkamus growled. "Don't ever look back."

They trudged through the yard, scanning the distance for any place to hide. Looming ahead of them was a solid wall of foliage. It looked like a wall made completely of Ivy. Half running, half limping their way there, they stopped just short of the structure. "What in the Hel is this?" asked the massive Viking.

"It's a topiary you dullard!" Ying responded.

"A what?" he exclaimed.

Kazi stepped between the two men. She feared a confrontation was brewing, and that was the last thing they needed right now. "It's a maze made out of bushes. Rich people have them around their homes to add to the flavor of the house. What it is for us is a place to hide. There is only one entrance and one exit, and those will be easy to defend while the sorcerer rests." Her soothing voice seemed to calm the situation. "Always the diplomat!" She thought to herself.

As they stood there contemplating which direction to follow the wall of leaves, the ground beneath their feet gave a low rumble. The earth all around them came alive with activity. All of Lord McNeil's victims were buried in shallow graves around the manor house, and they now rose, forced by his dark Necromancy to walk again. Hundreds of bodies, in varying stages of decay, came shambling out of their graves. Some had fragments of their armor still intact, and some had rusty weapons. Harkamus grabbed Kazi's wrist and took off to the left.

Corpses rose up in front of them, only to be smashed down by the huge Viking and his mighty hammer. Wave after wave of the undead threw themselves at the companions. Skeletal hands reached through the earth to grasp their ankles. Zombies jumped onto the Vikings back, just to be hefted high into the air, then ceremoniously heaved into their comrades. After several intense minutes of combat, the group finally broke through the edge of the undead horde, and easily outdistanced them. They finally reached the edge of the Topiary Garden, and entered the front of the maze. They made their way as quick as they could through the rows of bushes, often times having to backtrack to find the correct path. They finally made it to what must have been the center of the garden. There was a small stone bench set near a wall, and a small fountain in the center. Kazi let Ying rest on the bench and then approached Harkamus.

"You go back the way we came in, and ill continue down the path. We can fight them one at a time if we block the entrances. That should buy him enough time to gather his wits." She nodded her head in Ying's direction with the last comment. "That is a sound plan." Harkamus replied. "But you have no weapon?"

Kazi gave him that sardonic little smirk of hers, and said, "I am a weapon big man. Don't you worry about me." Kazi patted him on the shoulder, a sign of affection that he wasn't quite use to. Harkamus grin widened, then he turned and ran off the direction they originally entered. Harkamus almost reached the entrance when a thought struck him like a slap to the face. He recalled his conversation with Kazi this very night. She had told him that the sorcerer had tried to speak with her, and she couldn't understand him. Yet in the dining hall she understood perfectly what Ying had yelled to Groan as they left. She had also mentioned something about being trained in the Far East. The home of the Huns! Harkamus almost collapsed. He staggered backwards, leaning against the grassy wall. His mind was reeling. Why? Why would she pretend not to understand?

Quickly his confusion turned to anger. Pushing himself away from the wall, Harkamus started back towards the center of the garden. As he turned the last corner, the entire area was bathed in a soft blue light. In the middle of the open area stood the sorcerer, his tattoos glowing, steam pouring from his hands. Kazi Wren had herself wrapped around him like a concubine to a Sultan. The sight of this stunned Harkamus, and he hesitated his advance.

"I told you I would kill you barbarian." Ying laughed. "And some deaths are worse than others." The two traitors bodies shimmered in the nimbus of energy. Harkamus felt like someone had drove a sword through his gut. Kazi tilted her head, laying it against Ying's chest. "As I said lover, a girl's got to do what it takes to survive."

Harkamus roared and leapt for them. His hammer came crashing down one second too late. Both of them vanished in a puff of smoke. The only sound to be heard was the distance moans and shuffled feet of the legion of undead soldiers trying to find their way into the maze. The big Viking stared at the spot where his "companions" use to be. Slowly he turned and approached the bench. He lowered his considerable bulk onto the bench and sunk his head into his hands. After what seemed to be an eternity, he slowly stood, and exited the maze.

Harkamus adjusted his grip on Bjorentead, and faced the house. The undead horde turned from the grass wall and slowly shambled towards him.

"Ahh well." He sighed, "It's going to be a long night."

The End.