Rescued by the Berserker

Chapter 1: The Viking Wolf

Knut

"I do not like this place." Leif stood at my side, axe raised, ready to strike an unseen enemy.

I grunted in agreement and frowned at the wilderness, a tangle of overgrown brush and briars. The forest had given way to sandy soil and the few trees were twisted and malformed, their showing roots bleached white.

"There is something wrong with the air," the redheaded warrior continued. "I do not wish to linger."

"Nor do I," I told him. "But we press on until we find the traitors." We'd been tracking three wolves who'd stolen from the pack. The thieves had led us on a merry chase for the past few days and nights and we were tired, travel worn, with fraying tempers.

The wind rattled the trees, a sound like clinking bones.

"What is that scent on the breeze?" Leif raised his head and sniffed. I did the same and we both nearly gagged.

"Something died." I coughed.

"Corpses," Leif agreed. "Rotting meat. No wonder the thieves hid here. No one would go near this place, if they could help it."

"Let's push on." I motioned to the rest of the warriors—a band of twenty men, all heavily armed.

"Listen..." Brokk, a brown-haired brute of a warrior, raised a finger, "do you hear that?"

After a pause, we all heard it as well as he.

"Silence," Leif said. "No birds."

"Rolf has news," Brokk nodded to a large, grey wolf trotting towards us. It leaped on a boulder to address us.

I've scouted ahead, the wolf reported, speaking via the pack bonds into our minds. There is a rocky clearing near the foot of a hill where many draugr are milling about.

"Draugr?" Leif frowned. "I have not heard that word since we left the Northlands."

Rolf shared an image of them with us—thin men with greyish skin and expressionless faces.

They stink. The wolf sneezed. There are many of them and they seem to be guarding a cave. I sense powerful, tainted magic.

"Whatever witch or warlock created these beings, it must make its home inside the cave," Leif guessed.

"Such an evil should be obliterated," another warrior murmured and a few others agreed.

"What do we do, Knut?" Leif asked. "The Alphas expect us to find the thieves."

I weighed my answer. In the Alpha's absence, it was my decision. A part of me screamed to rush into battle, but I would not. I valued the lives of these men and counted them my friends, though I was careful not to let my guard down around them.

The traitors are close, Rolf said. I caught their scent in the woods before I came upon the stinking creatures around the cave.

"We continue our quest," I said. "If our path crosses these creatures, we will fight. Until then, we stay on the trail of the three traitors."

We can stay in the forest and go around the cave, avoiding these draugr.

Motioning to the wolf, I let Rolf lead the way. The rest of the pack followed hard on my heels. We stalked with the stealth of wolves, fanning out in the forest, using our mind link to keep going in the right direction. Our path took us close to the sandy clearing Rolf had seen. Beyond a thin screen of trees were hundreds of sallow faced men, bodies shrunken to almost skin and bone. Whatever mage animated these beings, it did not keep its servants healthy. The men looked like walking corpses.