Ivar crouched low as he kept his gaze fixed on the elk grazing on the slightly snow-covered grass and branches not far from him. After carefully judging the distance, he decided to move closer. Slowly and cautiously, he crept forward, taking care not to make a sound. Only when he felt he was close enough did he finally stop. Taking the bow from his back, he nocked an arrow and slowly rose from his crouched position. He brought the bow up and aimed.
The world seemed to narrow around him. There was only the elk. Less than three seconds after drawing the string, he released it. The arrow leapt from the bowstring with a sharp twang and streaked across the clearing. A heartbeat later, it struck. The sharpened bone tip punched cleanly into the elk's eye.
The beast jerked violently and staggered backward. Its legs kicked wildly as it collapsed into the snow. The elk twitched once. Then again. And again. Gradually, the movements weakened until they finally ceased altogether. Only then did Ivar let out a slow breath.
This was already the third game he had brought down today and the twenty-fifth over the course of the past fortnight since he had begun his hunting spree. Since he could not find enough weapons to properly arm the growing number of warriors in his band, he had decided to focus on bows for the time being.
That, however, brought its own problems. Bows required sinew for their strings, and arrows required feathers for their fletching. Since those materials were in constant demand, Ivar had taken it upon himself to hunt personally whenever he had the time. Fortunately, the forest north of their settlement was rich with game, providing both food and the materials they desperately needed.
He looked back and signaled to the companions following behind him. They immediately understood and rose from their crouched positions before making their way toward him. Once they were close enough, Ivar gestured toward the fallen elk and ordered, "This'll be the last one fer the day. Carry this to the others, and let's head back."
"Aye."
"Aye."
His companions immediately moved toward the elk without complaint. In fact, they seemed excited, knowing they would almost certainly be eating meat again later that night.
Ivar waited while they cut the antlers, tied the animal's legs and secured it to a long wooden pole for carrying. Once they were finished and had lifted the elk between them, he let them pass before falling in behind them.
It did not take long for the group to reach their resting place, where several other hunters stood guard over the two game he had brought down earlier, hares and birds.
"Let's rest fer a moment before we head back," Ivar said.
The hunters readily agreed. They had been moving through the forest since morning, and no one was eager to carry three large animals all the way back to the settlement without a short break.
As soon as Ivar sat down, Hilde walked over and settled beside him.
"This forest seems t' be teemin' with life," she remarked while glancing toward the pile of game they had accumulated. "Just look at all we've hunted today."
Ivar nodded before taking a drink from his waterskin.
"Aye," he agreed. "We're really lucky t' have found this place."
"Are ye still goin' huntin' on the morrow?" Hilde asked.
Ivar thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. "Nay. I'll start preparin' t' send the crow back t' his ice wall."
Hilde frowned when she heard that and could not help asking again, "Ye sure 'bout sendin' him back? Won't the crows come ridin' out from their castle and attack ye the moment ye get near? Sounds dangerous."
Ivar shook his head.
"Already decided on it. Don't worry. I'll be extra careful." He paused before adding, "Just imagine what we might be able t' exchange him fer. Hens that lay eggs. Goats fer milk. I would've preferred gettin' weapons from 'em, but we both know that's impossible. So I'll settle fer food and livestock instead."
Truthfully, he would have preferred sending a letter to the crow's lord father and demanding a proper ransom. That would likely earn him far more than anything the Night's Watch could offer. The problem was time. It would take far too long for a message to travel south and even longer for a response to arrive. On top of that, he was not entirely certain the crow's father would actually pay. The Night's Watch, however, would almost certainly reward anyone who returned one of their own alive. On that, he hoped so.
"If ye say so..." Hilde muttered.
After a brief pause, she asked, "Can I come with ye? I want t' see the ice wall."
Ivar glanced at her. Seeing the eagerness in her eyes, he let out a resigned sigh before answering. "Aye. I suppose so."
"Thank ye."
"No problem. Been planning t' have a few accompany me and th' crow anyway."
Ivar looked toward the sun, which was already beginning to sink below the horizon. The shadows between the trees were growing longer with every passing moment. Raising his voice so everyone could hear, he called out, "Let's head home. The sun's startin' t' disappear, and we still have leagues we need t' walk."
"Aye."
"Aye."
His companions sighed at the order but obeyed nonetheless. No one wanted to be left behind in the forest after dark.
Hilde rose from beside him as he stood.
Once Ivar saw that everyone was ready, he took the lead. This time, he walked at the front of the group so he could spot any danger ahead and warn the others before they stumbled into it.
They had not traveled more than a few leagues through the forest when Ivar suddenly sensed something and stopped. Without hesitation, he raised a clenched fist, and his companions immediately halted not far behind him.
Focusing his enhanced eyesight on the trees ahead, he narrowed his gaze. He was certain he had seen movement just moments ago. Then his nose caught a scent carried by the wind. People. Several of them. Hidden among the trees in front of them.
He did not know who they were or what they wanted, but his years of living in this place had taught him that strangers lying in wait rarely meant anything good. He was proven right a moment later. Several figures suddenly emerged from their concealment and raised their bows. Ivar's eyes widened slightly at the sight of so many arrows pointed in their direction.
"DOWN!" he roared.
His companions, already alert the moment he had signaled them to stop, immediately threw themselves to the ground.
The next instant, arrows rained down upon them.
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
Shafts buried themselves into trees, snow, and the carcasses of the game they had been carrying.
"Agh!"
Several cries rang out from behind him. Some of his companions had been hit, but Ivar did not waste time checking who. In the middle of an ambush, stopping to worry about the wounded would only create more wounded.
"Move!" he barked. "Get behind the trees! The enemy's in front o' us!"
The moment the order left his mouth, he sprinted toward the nearest cover. Sliding behind a thick tree trunk, he quickly slung his bow from his shoulder and nocked an arrow. Another volley hissed through the forest. The moment it ended, Ivar leaned out from behind the tree. His eyes immediately found a target, and he released.
The arrow flew straight and true. A cry of pain echoed from among the attackers.
Without pausing, he grabbed another arrow. A fresh volley came from the enemy line, forcing him back behind the tree. The moment the arrows stopped, he leaned out again and fired almost instantly after spotting another target. Another cry rang out from the forest ahead.
Around him, his companions had begun firing back as well, but Ivar quickly noticed that most of them were simply shooting blindly toward the enemy's position. He resisted the urge to curse. Training could only do so much. Most of them had never fought in a real battle before, and fear was making them loose arrows at shadows instead of targets.
Then he heard movement again and quickly stepped out from cover. But before he could loose his arrow, he saw one already flying toward him. Ivar immediately dropped back behind the tree. The shaft sliced through the air where his head had been only a heartbeat earlier before slamming into the trunk behind him.
The enemy had archers who knew what they were doing, he realized. That thought alone made his expression harden.
Without another moment's hesitation, he dropped his bow and quiver and drew the sword that had accompanied him for years. He had decided to end this quickly and bring the fight into a melee.
Before charging the enemy position, however, he barked out a command. "Hilde!"
A moment later, her voice answered from behind cover. "What?!"
"Stop shootin' blindly!" he shouted loudly enough for all of his companions, and probably their enemies as well, to hear. But he did not care. "Make sure ye know who yer target is before ye loose an arrow!"
Then he added, "I'm goin' where the enemies are hidin'. If a single arrow comes at me from this direction, every one o' ye will be gettin' somethin' from me after this fight."
"What?!" Hilde shouted back. "Are ye insane?!"
"Just do what I said!"
Without waiting for a reply, Ivar burst from cover and dashed toward the enemy positions.
As he ran, the sword in his hand shimmered faintly. He silently channeled qi into the blade, reinforcing it with durability and sharpness, the only enhancements he could currently bestow upon his weapons after reaching level three in his cultivation, much to his disappointment. A pale glow briefly traced along the edge before fading from sight.
At least, from everyone else's perspective.
The last time he had checked, he was the only one capable of seeing the qi coating his weapon. Which was just as well. The fewer questions he had to answer about his abilities, the better.
He evaded several arrows along the way, ducking, sidestepping, and occasionally throwing himself to one side before continuing his charge. To the ambushers, it must have looked as though he somehow knew where every arrow would land before it was even loosed.
It did not take long before he reached the first of his surprised enemies.
The man barely had time to register how Ivar had crossed the distance so quickly. His eyes widened in shock, and his mouth opened as if to shout a warning.
Ivar gave him no chance. His sword swept through the man as easily as a knife through soft butter.
The ambusher's body split into two halves.
Before the corpse had even hit the ground, Ivar was already moving.
The next enemy stood only a few paces away. The man stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers, frozen between drawing another arrow and fleeing.
Again, Ivar did not waste a single moment. His sword flashed and blood sprayed across the snow.
The second man collapsed before he could even scream.
Ivar continued forward without slowing, charging deeper into the enemy line like a shadow cat loosed among sheep.
The third man managed to swing his sword at him, but Ivar effortlessly sidestepped the attack before cutting off the man's head in a single motion. Without pausing, he moved toward his next target.
Before he could reach his fourth victim, however, an arrow suddenly whistled toward him. He twisted aside just in time. The shaft flashed past his face and buried itself in a tree behind him. Ivar cursed and immediately looked toward the source of the shot.
The archer had already nocked another arrow. A woman.
And not just any woman. Even from this distance, he could tell she knew exactly what she was doing and an expert at that.
He decided then and there that she would be his next target. First, however, the fourth man. He reached him moments later.
The unfortunate ambusher suffered the same fate as the others. This time, Ivar gutted the man before continuing his charge toward the master archer positioned near the rear of their line.
Several more arrows flew at him along the way. He evaded each one. A few desperate warriors also attempted to intercept him with their bronze swords, but he paid them little attention. They were obstacles, nothing more. His focus remained fixed on the archer who had nearly put an arrow through his skull.
Before long, he reached her.
The woman had already abandoned any hope of escape. She simply stood there with her bow lowered, staring at him with resignation etched across her face.
Ivar studied her for a brief moment. She was beautiful, he had to admit. Unfortunately for her, she had also come closer than anyone else to killing him. That alone sealed her fate. Ivar swung his sword. Her head rolled across the snow with her eyes still open.
After that, the rest of the fight ended quickly.
Without their best archer, the remaining ambushers broke apart. Ivar cut down those who continued resisting and deliberately spared a handful of others, merely wounding them so he could question them later.
By the time he reached the last surviving enemy, the man was trembling so violently that he could barely stand.
Ivar did not even need to kill him. His shadowcats had finally returned from their own hunt.
"Arghh…"
The unfortunate man managed one terrified scream before the beasts pounced.
Moments later, there was nothing left worth looking at.
Only then did Ivar turn back toward his companions. They had finally caught up and now stood staring at him in stunned silence.
Ivar looked down at himself. His furs were soaked with blood. Blood dripped from his sword. Severed bodies and wounded prisoners littered the forest behind him.
He looked back at his companions and quickly counted their numbers. Everyone was accounted for, aside from a few who had suffered arrow wounds, likely the same ones who had cried out during the ambush earlier. Fortunately, they were all still standing. That alone was enough to make him relax slightly.
Raising an eyebrow at the strange looks they were giving him, Ivar finally asked, "What?"
It was Hilde who snapped out of her stupor first.
"Nothin'. Just..." She shook her head, unable to find the right words. "Really. Nothin'." After a moment, she cleared her throat and asked, "What d' we do now?"
Ivar glanced around the battlefield before answering.
"Question the wounded. Find out why they attacked us and where they came from. After that, clean this place up. Bury the dead where no one's likely t' find 'em. I don't want anyone comin' after us lookin' fer revenge."
Hilde nodded and turned toward the others standing beside her, many of whom were still staring silently at the carnage spread throughout the forest.
"What're ye lot waitin' fer?" she barked. "Do as Ivar said! Orik! Start diggin' a pit!"
The hunters snapped out their stupor at her outburst and immediately sprang into action.
Ivar watched them for a few moments before turning away and making his way toward a nearby stream.
When he arrived, he removed his blood-soaked furs and began washing himself thoroughly. He took his time, scrubbing away the blood that clung to his skin and hair.
Before long, his beast companions appeared and joined him at the stream. Rather than drinking quietly, they immediately began splashing water everywhere.
Ivar could only shake his head at their antics before returning his attention to his furs. They were stained dark with blood and took far longer to clean than he would have liked.
By the time he was finished with his fur, Hilde had arrived.
"We're almost finished," she reported.
Ivar glanced up from the stream. "What'd they say?"
Hilde folded her arms. "They'd been trackin' us since this mornin'. Said the game in their huntin' grounds had become scarcer than usual. Eventually, they figured out we were the reason after seeing us from a distance and decided t' ambush us."
She paused briefly before continuing. "And they're from the Thenns."
Ivar's hands stopped moving. So that explains the bronze weapons, he thought.
After a moment of silence, he resumed washing the blood from his furs before replying, "Make sure the scene's cleaned thoroughly. I don't want anythin' left behind that could point back at us. And make sure our companions keep their mouths shut once we're back in the settlement."
He glanced toward Hilde. "The last thing I want is the Thenns thinkin' we slaughtered a group o' their hunters."
Hilde nodded in understanding. "Aye."
"If possible," Ivar continued, "I'd rather have the Thenns as trade partners than enemies. More specifically, I'd like access t' their bronze weapons."
At that, Hilde's expression brightened slightly. She understood exactly why. Their band was growing faster than they could properly equip it. Every new recruit meant another warrior who needed a weapon, and bronze was far superior to the crude bone, stone, and scavenged weapons many of their people currently carried.
"Aye," she agreed. "That'd solve quite a few problems."
"It would," Ivar replied.
Hilde looked back toward the forest where the others were finishing their work. "Then I'll head back first and make sure everythin's done properly."
"Mmm." Ivar nodded. "Don't take too long. It'll be dark soon."
"Aye." With that, Hilde turned and left.
Ivar watched her disappear among the trees before returning his attention to the stream. For a few moments, he remained silent, listening to the sound of the water flowing past before continuing to wash his body this time.
After cleaning the battlefield and making sure no trace of the ambush remained behind, the group resumed their journey. The wounded had their injuries wrapped as best as they could manage, while the others took turns helping carry the game they had hunted earlier. Despite the attack, their spirits remained surprisingly high. Three elk and several smaller animals, including birds would provide enough food for days, and none of them had died during the ambush. In their place and world, that alone was reason enough to be grateful about.
They traveled south through the forest until the trees gradually began thinning. Before long, the scent of salt carried by the sea breeze reached them, and the coastline came into view once more. The waters stretched endlessly to the east beneath a sky painted orange and gold by the setting sun. Here and there, chunks of ice drifted along the shore while seabirds circled overhead, searching for fish.
The journey remained quiet for the most part. Several of the hunters occasionally spoke about the ambush, wondering why the Thenns had come so far from their own lands, while others discussed how much meat they would be eating that night. Ivar listened to the conversations without joining them. His thoughts remained fixed on the Thenns, their bronze weapons, and the possibility of future trade. As long as they won't find out about what happened earlier.
By the time they reached the mouth of the river, darkness was beginning to creep across the land.
The abandoned settlement still stood where it had before. Burned huts and collapsed tents cast long shadows beneath the fading light, while the cold sea wind whistled through the empty camp. Seeing the place again reminded Ivar of the women who had nearly shot him when he had approached under a white fur and asked a few simple questions.
He snorted softly at the memory and quickly pushed it aside. There was no point dwelling on it now. Instead, he looked around for the reason he had chosen this route instead of heading directly back to their settlement. It did not take long for him to spot the person he was looking for.
Before he could call out, however, Hilde beat him to it. "Oi! Haldor!"
The young man turned his head at the sound of his name.
The moment Hilde got a good look at him, she burst out laughing. "Gods, ye still look like shit!"
Even Ivar chuckled lightly at the sight. It seemed the sun still had its effects despite the cold. Haldor's face was noticeably sunburned after spending nearly a fortnight by the sea, and the reddened skin only made him look more miserable than he already did.
The sight was hardly surprising. Ivar had assigned Haldor and Torren to the abandoned settlement as lookouts, keeping watch over the eastern coast for any signs of approaching ships. More specifically, pirate ships. Which for him was a treasure trove of supplies if they could capture one in the future, he hoped.
Unfortunately, keeping watch over the sea day after day meant enduring the wind, the salt, and the glare of the sun reflecting endlessly off the water. Judging by Haldor's appearance, the sea had won most of those battles.
Still, a small part of Ivar believed Haldor deserved it. Every time he remembered the ridiculous rumors the young man had spread around the camp before, he felt the urge to punch him all over again. But he held it in and simply walked over instead.
"Still no ships?" he asked.
Haldor shook his head in resignation as he stood up. "Nay. Ye sure there're ships comin' here? I've been watchin' fer almost a fortnight and still haven't seen a single one."
"Aye," Ivar replied. "The people who lived here said they were attacked by ships before. If they came once, they'll likely come again."
His gaze swept across the abandoned settlement before he asked, "Where's Torren?"
"Already left." Haldor pointed vaguely south. "He watches the sea until the sun reaches the middle o' the sky. Then I take over until sunset."
"Mmm." Ivar nodded. "Come. Let's head home. Ye can continue watchin' the sea on the morrow."
Haldor grimaced immediately. "Can't ye assign Ulf, Hilde, or someone else instead?"
"I heard that!" Hilde shouted from behind Ivar. And several of the hunters laughed.
Ivar merely shook his head. "Nay. This is yer assignment until I say otherwise."
Then he turned and began walking away. After a few steps, he glanced back and added a warning. "And don't ye dare abandon this post. If I find out ye did, ye'll be gettin' a beatin' from me."
Haldor groaned loudly but followed nonetheless. After catching up with the others, he finally noticed that some of them were injured and that they had returned with an impressive haul from the hunt. That at least brought a smile to his face as he thought about the meat they would be eating for dinner. His earlier complaints were quickly forgotten as he chatted with the hunters.
The group soon left the abandoned settlement behind and made their way west along the riverbank. The sky had darkened considerably by then, and the first stars were beginning to appear overhead.
As they drew closer to their settlement, signs of life became more frequent. Ivar spotted several of their people still checking the fish traps they had set along the river despite the fading light. Others were hauling baskets filled with fish back toward the valley.
Watching them, Ivar felt a measure of relief. At least food was no longer their greatest concern. The river was generous, the forest was full of game, and their hunters had become increasingly skilled at taking advantage of both.
Their greatest problem now was weapons. And he intended to solve that problem soon. He hoped.
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A/N: Please don't forget to rate and review the story after reading. And if you want to read ahead. You know where to look.