The young Duke could not be sure of many things, however, and he was simply hoping that the gods would smile on him again when he stepped off the ship and onto the land of his forefathers. He was not sure what to expect upon arrival, and he was not sure how his own people would react to his coming.

What would Aezubah say? Would the people believe him when he revealed himself? Would they accept him as their Duke? Would Aezubah accept him back after all the years of absence? Too many questions troubled the young man and brought sorrow into his heart.

Captain Aldhu approached the young Northerner with a cigar again placed in the corner of his mouth. He said nothing at first, simply leaned against the side of the ship in the same manner as Iskald did and stared out to the horizon. Neither man said anything for a while, waiting for the other to strike up the conversation.

The relations between the Nekryans and the black-haired Northern giant had remained tense throughout the journey. For the sailors, the young man was an intruder, an alien, an unfamiliar entity, someone who belonged to the land and should never have stepped onto their deck, especially not in the manner that he did. Having literally grown up aboard a ship, these men looked upon Iskald with a great deal of dislike. He was, to them, someone who had no relationship with the sea and should not, therefore, be among them.

Adding to the matter was the fact that the young intruder claimed, though quietly enough, to be a Lyonese Wolf. The animosity between Nekrya and the Estate of Lyons was not forgotten, not even in this time of war, not even when crises faced both lands.

Hatred between theses two nations went far back, further back than anyone could ever remember, further back than the history written down on ancient papyrus scrolls. The hatred was bred into them, fed to them with the milk of their mothers. And although Iskald seemed to be unmoved by the presence of the Nekryans, their attitude towards him was different.

The young man often spotted their evil, menacing glares, their feverish eyes filled with loathing, and he was sure that was it not for the fact that he kept his guard throughout the entire trip, sleeping with eyes wide open and never allowing anyone to step behind him, one of the sailors would have by now stuck a blade between his ribs.

The crew never approached him or talked to him and he did not seek their company either. Only Aldhu sometimes came to exchange a few words, but he too kept his distance, recalling very well the feeling of Iskald’s cold blade when it pressed against his throat. The young man liked it better that way, anyway. He kept to himself, though he never lost sight of anyone on the ship and he always, always kept his heavy Surathian sword near him.

This time, however, when Aldhu approached him, Iskald decided to abandon the usual silent and cautious manner with which he treated the Nekryans, and spoke first:

“Who do you think waits for us in Hvoxx now? The Vikings or Aezubah?”

Aldhu sighed and a thick cloud of smoke escaped his mouth.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Believe me, though, that although I don’t feel much sympathy for you and your kin, I wish that you would hold Hvoxx as long as possible. No one knows what the Vikings intend to do after they defeat your Estate, where they will next turn their greedy, bloodthirsty hands. They sent no word to Nekrya or any of the other Southern Kingdoms and many people, myself included, fear that they will cross the ocean and invade us. Hell, I wish they’d burn!”

He spat over the side of the ship with disgust.

“You don’t think Hvoxx will hold?” Iskald asked.

“No, I don’t,” there was no hesitation in Aldhu’s voice. “I think that we’re probably heading straight to our deaths, ’cause Hvoxx might already be gone.”

“Then why go?”

“I got my orders,” the Nekryan shrugged. “I don’t back out once the deal is made, it’s not part of the job.”

They watched in silence as a pair of large white sharks surfaced near the ship and swam along side it. Their large fins stood tall above the water as they neared the side of the ship with menace.

“There is some hope, though, that Aezubah is still in Hvoxx,” Aldhu said after a few moments of silence.

“How’s that?” Iskald looked up. Though he wanted to believe that Aezubah still held the Vikings in check, his hope faded as the Northern coast drew near and he needed something more to hold on to now.

“Well, from what I know of that Aezubah fellow, he seems to be pretty clever. Think about it: first he gathered all his troops so that the Vikings wouldn’t crush them all separately, and barricaded himself in Hvoxx, having burned and destroyed everything around him for leagues on.

“Then he sent for help. To us he only sent for a shipment of weapons and armor, but he probably asked other Kingdoms for help as well. The Izmattic Isles are near and you can be sure he requested troops. If he wants all that he asked for, he needs to secure safe passage for the ships, and the only place to do that is in Hvoxx. He needs to be there if he is to have any hope of defeating the Vikings.”

“The Izmattic Islands are half-way between Nekrya and Lyons. He would have his response by now. Besides, do you think that they would care to send troops?”

“Everyone must care now, because this is turning into everybody’s problem. You must remember that if Lyons falls to the Vikings, the Izmattians may be next.”

“What about the Viking fleet? You think they’d allow the Izmattians, or anyone else bringing aid, even to come near Hvoxx? They must have completely isolated the Lyonese coast by now.”

“The last news I heard was that the Viking fleet had not yet made its way down from the Northern Ice Fields. They’re having some trouble, rumor is, getting their ships across. Besides, even if they managed to get a few of them down to Lyons, your fleet isn’t all that bad either, ain’t that right? A little smaller, but just as good. You never had much trouble crossing the ocean to visit us, right?”

Iskald smiled quietly, but said nothing to the sly remark.

“Let’s hope they’re doing a good job of keeping the Vikings away from the coast of Lyons,” he said instead.

“Let’s hope,” Aldhu chucked the last bit of the cigar into the water. “Because if they’re not, then we’re in deep shit,” he finished bluntly walked away leaving Iskald again alone with his depressing thoughts.

* * *

All the uncertainties as to who was in control of Hvoxx and the coast of Lyons were dismissed within a few short days. As soon as the Omen entered the waters of the Estate, the crew spotted a ship on the horizon. It was a patrol ship from Lyons, keeping an eye on the coast and on any ship that came near.

Aldhu breathed easier when he saw several dozen Wolves on board the approaching vessel, though he was far from admitting it. Iskald, on the other hand, was excited, though he hardly showed it and seemed completely calm to the Nekryans.

He waited by the side of the ship like a marble, motionless giant statue, as the Lyonese vessel drew near, slowly circling the small transport ship before finally approaching its side. The Wolves hooked the Nekryan ship and brought it closer, then threw several ropes overboard for the Nekryan crew to bind the ships together.

The sails were lowered, and the two vessels floated on the calm waters of the Azmattic Ocean. The Nekryan sailors and the Lyonese warriors stared silently at one another, with dislike clearly written on their solemn faces. The grim faces of the Wolves made the Nekryan sailors nervous and anxious to be on their way.

A young dark-haired warrior jumped over the side of the ships with grace and ease, and stood before the Nekryans, looking them straight in the eye with a great deal of strength and audacity. The Southern sailors, feeling completely out of the water and on foreign territory, took a step back before this man whose appearance alone was enough to intimidate them.

But to Iskald, the man appeared to be nothing more than a typical Lyonese Wolf: tall, powerful and armed to his teeth. His eyes, the color of the clearest blue steel, pierced the men before him. Several dozen similar-looking Wolves stood on the ship behind him, keeping their weapons ready.

The Nekryan sailors stared at them uneasily, but their eyes often shifted towards Iskald who stood at the back of their ship. There was tremendous resemblance between the young intruder who had invited himself to come along on the journey and the warriors before them. One would have to be blind not to see that they must have been all born and reared in the same land.

“Who is the Captain of this vessel?” the Lyonese warrior asked in a clear voice, stepping to the middle of the deck.

“I am,” Aldhu moved in front of his men.

The Northerner looked him over from head to toe with a stern gaze.

“This is a Nekryan merchant ship?”

“Yes.”

“What shipment are you carrying and on whose request?”

“Weapons and armor for General Aezubah.”

The face of the Lyonese warrior changed slowly from grim to cheerful. He smiled and patted the Nekryan captain on the back. “Aezubah will be pleased.”

“Is he still in Hvoxx?” Iskald stepped up.

The Wolf gave him a long hard stare and though he had noticed him before, he took another moment to look him over. Then, without answering his question, he asked: “You’re Lyonese?”

“Yes.”

“Coming back from the South for the war?”

“Yes,” Iskald kept his answers short.

“Hm.” the warrior gave him another keen stare. “You look like you have a strong arm and your sword looks heavy enough. But can you use it?”

“No worse than others,” Iskald smiled lightly.

“Then you might be useful. As to your question, yes, of course Aezubah is in Hvoxx. Where else would he be?”

“We thought he might have moved the army out into the field.”

“There’s too many of those horned sons-of -bitches for us to stand a chance against them on a battlefield. We’re locked in Hvoxx for now, guarding the coast and gathering our strength.”

“For war?”

“What else? The moment will come, brother, when we will come out of Hvoxx with song on our lips and we will destroy the Vikings. But we must be patient for now.”

“What’s the situation then?” Aldhu hesitated a question. “We’ve been journeying for a long time, and no one in the South knows what’s going on for sure. We’re eager to hear the news.”

“They fear us, those horned pigs!” the Northern warrior spat with disdain. “But they have us locked up in place, there’s just too many of them. All we can do for now is hold Hvoxx, gather troops and supplies, and prepare for a final battle.”

“What about their fleet?”

“They have a few ships,” the Wolf snickered. “But most of their fleet is locked in the ice up North and won’t be down here any time soon, at least not until spring. They can move their army over ice, but they won’t budge those vessels!”

Iskald smiled upon hearing the good news. “And the Izmattians?” he asked.

“They sent food, weapons, warriors. Good fellows, they hate the Vikings, and tear them to pieces. They have some good-eyed bowmen; we used them to kill a few of the Viking officers. They’re scared to walk alone now.”

“Any larger battles?”

“A few. Twice they tried to end it all with one swift strike, moving down all their forces, but we stopped them each time. They went back decimated. We’re well entrenched, and they barely have any horses. They learned, though, and now they sit quiet, waiting.”

“For what?”

“Their Council is sending their main bati and war chief, Irvinn, down from Biyack with more men. They’re waiting for him before doing anything more. For now all we do is round up their smaller hordes. We hunt them in the woods.”

“How big is our army?”

“Some fifteen thousand footmen, five thousand Wolves, plus another several thousand men on horses. Couple of hundred Izmattians, a legion of bowmen, several larger militia groups, highlanders; altogether, I’d say, about thirty thousand men.”

“What about the Vikings?”

“Last reports spoke of something like two to two hundred and twenty thousand men.”

“Sounds hopeless,” Aldhu said.

“Doesn’t it, though?” the Lyonese warrior laughed. “But don’t worry, brother, we’ll break them.”

“How can you fight against such odds?” Aldhu shook his head. “Biyack was no match, what can you do? It’s hopeless, we will all die under the Viking boot.”

“Have faith, brother!” the young warrior patted him on the back again. “What is Biyack today? Nothing but a relic, a mere shadow of its the ancient days of glory. We are the future, brother! Had the Vikings not broken its back, we would have soon done so! We are the future!” he shouted again, turning around to face his men. “And under Aezubah, we will grow powerful, we will rid the North of those horned bastards and we will take Lyons into a whole new era, not as a province or a Estate, but as a Kingdom!”

The Lyonese shouted back in unison, raising their weapons high up in the air, their swords flashing in the afternoon sun, and for a brief moment it looked as if a lightning had struck the ship and danced on the tips of their blades.

It is difficult to imagine what went on in Iskald’s heart in that very moment, when he looked around and saw himself surrounded by these solemn, honest faces, the people among whom he was raised. It had been a long, long time since he last saw these faces around him and now he just felt like crying out in joy. And once he heard their cheerful cries and shouts, he wanted to shout with them, and finally, finally, it reached him that he had come home.

“Can I come with you?” he asked the leader of the Wolves when the cries died and the man was readying to leave.

“We can’t take you, brother, I’m sorry. We’re not going back to shore just yet, we have orders. If you really want to fight the Vikings, you must go to Hvoxx, go to the palace, and sign up, register with one of the generals. Stay on the Omen and before six days are over, you will see the coast of Lyons.”

Having said that, the Lyonese warrior waved farewell and sprang over the sides of the ships once more, landing softly on the deck of his own vessel. The Nekryans quickly unhooked the ropes and untied the lines, releasing the two ships from each other, and within a few moments the two vessels drifted apart far enough for them to raise their sails and to go each its own way.

It was not long before the Lyonese ship disappeared behind the horizon while Omen, under a full set of sails, carried the Nekryans and Iskald closer and closer to the shore of Lyons.

Aldhu lit another one of his cigars and slowly walked over to where Iskald stood with his eyes still fixed on that spot on the horizon where the Lyonese vessel vanished

“You must be glad to be back,” the Nekryan said.

Iskald said nothing and only nodded his head in silence.

Proceed to Chapter 12...

Copyright © 2008 by Slawomir Rapala