The Seeress

Chapter Thirty-Two

Cuthbert stood at the keep, seeing the men carrying their weapons for war. Already, a few of the men were reported to have passed away due to starvation. His desperation clouded his mind, and it impaired his vision to lead. Clearly, the recruits weren't ready for war.

"There aren't enough men," John said from behind. "Have you started recruiting already? I must say it is not enough,"

"I have recruited every man within a hundred miles beyond Broncaster already," Cuthbert replied. "I am taking your word into account. And you should be grateful that you and your son are still alive, most other commanders would hang you instead," 

John heard the barking of the lieutenant as he took fault in a recruit's parry. John took solace that Edwin was too weak to fight. For he would not stand a chance. "You would not hang your old friend, would you?" John asked. 

"Don't take your chances," Cuthbert said. "Even without your help, we can still hold the line,"

"And yet we are only a thousand and five hundred, and that the fact that I am grateful. Any man, regardless whether they have a love for the Crown, would join either way to save their families." John replied, unfazed by Cuthbert's warning. He saw the men already using newly forged swords at dummies. Admirable, but he had seen better swordsmanship during the Great War. And he was sure that each of them at best, could only kill one Nord before he could fall. And John estimated that there were four thousand men for the rebelling tribes of Nordlund. The walls could only keep them so much from harm.

"And I have sent a rider to request reinforcements," Cuthbert added, as the men passing by bowed their heads in respect. John remembered that he had such treatment when he was young. "Even the Crown of Westhaven would understand how severe our predicament is,"

"And how long would they come," John said. "Considering that the capital is three weeks away on horseback and that the army would march to Broncaster in two months, would Broncaster still stand? Even in two weeks, already the food would start to be depleted. And knowing them, they want us to starve enough to make easier prey,"

Cuthbert did not look at him in the eyes, wanting to distract his mind from his men's training. Even then, he could still see their error, mistakes that the Nordic warriors and especially berserkers, can easily exploit. "We will have to make up for it," Cuthbert answered after a moment's pause.

"If they get worse and there is no hope for these walls... we will have to abandon this place, and may God help us to leave for Skoravik," John said, knowing well that the words he said were all too right for him. But as he spoke, his son still barely recovered from his starvation. He knew that he was terribly weak to even walk to Skoravik. If Broncaster falls, he would not weep much in leaving it. The boat to Volmeria still awaits him and his son should the castle fall.

"Do not be so unfair on our men," Cuthbert said. "Some of them, I have trained personally for this very moment, others can be good warriors"

"If we give them the time... that our enemies will not," John answered. "And have they seen the blood pouring out of their own kin in battle? Have they heard the wailing and seen the corpses that surround them? Do not tell me whether they are ready or not, for we shall see when they look at the enemy's eye,"

John looked at the men training another time. Several of them were either boys whose voices started to deepen or old men who claimed to have fought in the Great War. They will have to suffice, John thought as his mind dwelled on a better memory. In a far greener land. 

...

Harold awoke in the dark; he saw the outside of the tent becoming brighter. Although he made sure to sleep far away from the army, he could hear chanting and the drums beating. He came outside to see men carrying heavy weaponry. The chanting and the sounds of drums banging in the distance became more intense, and the fire brimmed in the middle. Harold saw Knut at the centre emitting a chant in a language he could not understand. And the large men whose bodies were like beasts screamed pain. 

The drums stopped, as Harold saw with the fire in the distance a large posturing man with a large boar strapped at his head. He raised in both hands a shield that nearly covers his face, as his mouth viciously bites it and he tears away the wooden texture. Harold then saw him break apart the shield with his bare hands, as they all gave a collective roar of terror. 

Harold knew that kind of man, a berserker whose wild desire can only be satisfied by war. He saw how a berserker can fold a man in half, and can even fight whilst every part of his body bled. Western blood on his hands. Knut, bare-chested and goat blood spilt at his body, yelled as Harold saw a slender woman coming to the fray. Agnetha no less, here to bless the warriors as they bowed before her and in extension, their gods. 

"Warriors of Odin, here you shall be blest before you spill thy enemy's blood," Agnetha spoke as she raised her arms. "And if neither you shall live,  your bodies shall be taken to the gates of Valhalla, where the spirits of your forefathers shall welcome you,"

Agnetha slowly whispered as one by one, each warrior felt his soul hardened and skin filled with iron. The pupils in their eyes were gone, as blood poured from them. "Every blow dealt to you, only half of its fangs slither through your flesh," Agnetha spoke as the warriors all stopped at a heartbeat. Harold's heart shivered as he saw so many bodies rising up to block the fire at the centre. 

Knut bowed his head, as Agnetha slowly walked toward her brother. At her hand carried a bowl, and Harold saw that it smeared her hand with blood. Rubbing into Knut's forehead, Agnetha said the words 'Go forth, riders of Odin' as the men stood up in unison and raised their weapons. They both chanted as Agnetha's shrill voice could be heard over them. 

'Valkyries take heed!
For they shall fall before you!"

The fire blistered as Harold saw the warriors rise next to her. He saw the woman whom he protected, turn into an unstoppable force of death. The fire pervaded their senses as they all yelled in glory. 

"Rise, warriors of Odin! For you, all will be accepted at Valhalla!" Agnetha said as she gave a kiss on her brother's cheek. "Now... the gods will witness you free your people, from the chains of Westhaven. Now you will flood their homes and chambers with their own blood. And with their blood, you will harvest the newborns to a greater era."

"Such is the god's will," Knut said. "And you will bear witness too, sister. May our father see that you have grown," He said as Agnetha pulled a knife, and slowly slit his hands. Knut did not flinch or cry, as the pain had lessened from her magic. 

"Now go forth, and avenge our father," Agnetha whispered to his ear, as another warrior raised the blade for him. Recognizing the runes of the sword, Knut pulled it from its sheath in its glory and yelled "Now we will retake our lands!".

Harold watched, as the bands of madmen formed together themselves as an army, for they marched out of the gate. Knut came as he towered over Harold with his stature. "Harold, almost every Nord I know does not want you to live..." Knut said. "But my sister does. And since she respects you, I shall assign you as a guard to her,"

Harold relaxed his guard, seeing as the new Jarl had not chosen to kill him. His muscle tensed as he knew he had to bow before him. "Insolent Westerner, the Jarl orders you, you respect him!" another warrior shouted as Knut raised his hand at him. 

"I... will take heed," Harold said, as he bowed before the Jarl. As the latter raised his hand, Harold could feel his father's disappointment seething to him. seeing how h s patience has worn thin. He felt his father whispering, his disappoint ent seething to his soul. Harold grasped the Jarl's hand, looked at its palm with repressed anger, and kissed it. 

"Now... you swear allegiance to Nordlund," Knut said as H rold struggled to let go. "In return, I will ensure that some of your people will be spared so that they will help me in rebuilding this nation," 

"Such is your will,  I  am humbled... by your mercy..." Harold said to his new sire. "And all I ask is that you allow those who can be loyal to you to be spared,"

"That depends on how willing to s rve they will be," Knut said as he shifted his pupils elsewhere to his men. Already they were clad in armour, and in spirit, they will welcome Valhalla if need be. 

"Who knows... should you fall in battle, I pray th t you will go to Valhalla," Knut said, as Harold strug led to smile at him. "Let it be known, that you choose freedom for our kin. And I will make sure that your service will not go unrewarded." And the Jarl blessed him for his loyalty.