Lorik (The Lorik Trilogy) (21 page)

The raider jumped, raising one knee and then kicking out with the other leg. Stone spun to the side and was about to step toward the raider when he saw the flash of metal in the man’s unwounded hand. It was a small utility knife, but it would have been enough to wound Stone if he hadn’t jumped back just in time. Then, almost as if his legs had collapsed, he dropped low, then dove at the outlaw’s leg, stabbing down with his knife with a hammer-like blow that slammed the blade into the raider’s groin.

Stone felt the blade grind against the man’s pelvic bone as the outlaw shrieked and fell back. The knife was nearly pulled out of his grasp, but the brass knuckle guard helped him maintain his grip. He was pulled forward as the blade wrenched free, and at that same moment the other raider lumbered forward with his club. He brought the blunt weapon down onto Stone’s upper arm, just below the shoulder. The blow knocked the young warrior down onto the rough floor but didn’t break any bones. Stone kicked out and tripped the raider just as Thuryk charged into the room, bellowing like a raging bull.

For an instant Stone and the raider with the club looked up, dumbfounded by the battle cry, but Lorik had already worked his big axe free and was turning to meet the infamous raider’s charge. Lorik was a big man, but Thuryk was a giant. He was easily a head taller than Lorik, with wide shoulders and thick arms. His chest was bare and broad, but not rounded like Lorik’s. His muscles showed like fibrous armor that was crisscrossed with old scars. The raider had no hair on the top of his head, but it grew like a thick hedge around his ears and the back of his skull.

He had a two-handed broadsword in his hands, and he wielded it as easily as a child would a toy. His eyes swept across the room, realizing in an instant that he faced his assailant alone. Thuryk was a killer, but he had grown accustomed to killing when the odds were greatly in his favor. His first blow was savage, but his heart was not in it. Lorik held his axe with one hand at the bottom of the handle, and one by the haft just under the head. He brought the heavy weapon up and caught Thuryk’s sword on the thick steel axehead. Sparks flew and Thuryk swore, but he struck again, this time swinging his weapon low at Lorik’s feet.

Stone and the raider who had attacked him watched transfixed at the fight between the teamster and the outlaw. They were both incredible physical specimens, like otherworldly beings battling in the soft red glow of the fire. Lorik’s battle axe was dull gray, a tool of death as severe as the Grim Reaper’s sickle. Thuryk’s sword was polished until it was as bright as a mirror, flashing in the red glow from the fire. Lorik danced back, light on his feet for such a big man. His heavy boots thumped on the wooden floor, as Thuryk’s sword whistled through the air.

Then Lorik went on the offensive, swinging the massive axe with just one hand in a level arc. The outlaw raised his sword, but the axe had too much momentum. Sparks flew again as Thuryk was driven back. Lorik followed his attack by spinning around and swinging the axe up over his head, intending to smash it down and cleave Thuryk’s skull, but the outlaw flicked his blade up, forcing Lorik to jump to the side. The axe crashed into a table, smashing a hole in the tabletop.

Both men pulled back, each taking a moment to catch his breath. Sweat was streaming down Lorik’s face. His simple cotton shirt was soaked with sweat. He ran the back of his left hand across his brow and strengthened his grip on his axe.

Then Thuryk charged forward again, thrusting his sword straight out in front of him, trying to run Lorik through. But the teamster deflected the blade to one side and lowered his shoulder. The collision seemed to shake the inn, but neither man was moved. It was like watching two bighorn sheep charging into one another. They both pulled back for a moment and then slammed together again, shoulder to shoulder, both men straining. Then, as if the earth was tilting out of kilter, Thuryk was pushed back. The outlaw’s eyes widened in surprise, and he drew back his fist and struck out at Lorik, who was still leaning into his opponent. The haymaker could have ended the fight, but Lorik saw it coming and raised his axe, which he was still holding with two hands. The axehead came up broadside in front of the outlaw’s massive fist. The impact pushed Lorik back a few steps, but it also caused Thuryk to cry out in pain. His hand was bruised at best, but probably broken. He shook his hand, hoping to relieve the pain.

Then Lorik swung the axe at Thuryk’s hip. The outlaw parried with his sword, it was a reflex born out of years of fighting, but few weapons were as formidable as the teamster’s axe. The sword stopped the axe, but pivoted up and dug a searing gash in the outlaw’s leg. Thuryk was now in a fit of rage. He began hacking wildly with his sword. Lorik dodged most of the blows, conserving his strength. And then the tide of the battle turned abruptly. Lorik was holding his axe at the bottom of the handle with one hand and the other near the axehead. It was a defensive posture, but the teamster had been waiting for his opportunity to arrive. It came from a massive, overhead blow, which Lorik caught on the top of the axehead. Lorik twisted the axe, spinning on one foot so that the sword was caught between the curved points of the axe head. It only held for a moment, but that was all the teamster needed. In the same spinning motion he raised his foot and used his momentum to smash his boot down on Thuryk’s knee.

The infamous raider’s leg buckled, and he screamed in agony as his leg hyperextended and the tendons snapped. His leg stretched out as he limped back on his good knee and used his free hand to balance his body. Sweat stood out on his forehead as he composed himself, holding the massive sword out in front of his body to ward off another attack. But now the sword trembled, and the raider’s jaw clenched in pain and hatred.

“Throw down your weapon,” Lorik said angrily. “Your men are gone. Your time here is finished.”

“Never,” said Thuryk.

“Don’t be a fool.”

Thuryk spit in defiance.

Then, the raider who had been attacking Stone suddenly rose up and rushed forward. Lorik took a step back to defend himself, but the raider wasn’t rushing toward the teamster. He was rushing at Thuryk. He batted the big outlaw’s massive sword aside with his club and ran headlong into the wounded raider. Thuryk fell back, screaming in pain as his leg twisted across the wooden floor. He dropped his sword and heaved his fellow outlaw over his head. The raider flipped over and crashed onto a table, smashing it to kindling.

Thuryk was reaching for his sword again when Lorik’s axe came down. It severed the infamous outlaw’s arm just below the elbow. The axe buried into the wooden floor and held fast. Thuryk passed out, and his compatriot-turned-enemy looked up, baffled.

“Get out,” Lorik said menacingly.

The man ran limping from the inn. Stone got up slowly. His arm was throbbing in pain, and he must have had a look of disbelief on his face.

“What?” Lorik said. “You said to come running when I heard noise. I didn’t know I was going to be fighting all of Thuryk’s men by myself.”

“Hey, I was here the whole time,” Stone said, but he couldn’t keep the humor out of his voice.

“What were you doing, watching? I could have been killed,” Lorik said. His tone was severe, but his eyes were sparkling with suppressed laughter.

“Not today you couldn’t,” Stone said. “Today you fought like a legendary warrior. They’ll write songs about you and that axe.”

“I need a drink,” Lorik said. “And a long, long nap.”

They both laughed, and then Stone went upstairs and unlocked all the rooms. The townsfolk were both relieved that their captivity was over and a little timid. The carnage in the common room made most of them uneasy, but the sun was rising so they went out into the cool morning air to celebrate. Stone’s arm was deeply bruised, so he was little help in removing the dead bodies from the inn, but Lorik helped the innkeeper drag the dead raiders outside. Then he joined Stone on a low bench outside the inn and was given a mug of cool ale.

“Have you seen Griff?” Lorik asked.

“No, not since he got me out of the room upstairs.”

“You think he’s still around?”

“I don’t know. He has skills, even if they are nefarious skills.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Lorik said. “We couldn’t have done this without him.”

“No, we couldn’t have. I hope he’s well, wherever he is.”

“I have a feeling we’ll see him again.”

Chapter 13

Stone kept watch while Lorik slept. It was a hot day, but they were given use of a shaded rooftop to rest. The townsfolk were mostly elderly people and children, but the innkeeper was a jovial man, and his wife stayed busy preparing food for everyone. The threat of more raiders returning to Pallsen was very real, so after the initial celebration, almost everyone returned to the inn to help clean up the mess. Floors were scrubbed, bedsheets washed, and broken furniture was removed. It would take time for the town to get back into shape, but for now everyone seemed happy that Thuryk, who had died of his wounds, could no longer hurt them.

The rooftop was flat and afforded a good view of the inn and the town market. Lorik slept with his longbow and arrows close to hand. If more raiders did ride into town, the plan was for Stone to confront the outlaws while Lorik covered him from the rooftop. It was a simple plan, but they were counting on the raiders’ desire to take control of Thuryk’s raiding ship to outweigh their desire for revenge. What plunder they may have taken would be lost, since the raiders no longer had to share it with their fallen leader. But hopefully the word would spread quickly enough, and the townspeople who had been forced to raid with the outlaws would be free to return to their homes.

The innkeeper brought up fresh bread, fruit, cheese, ale, and smoked pheasant. Stone didn’t wake Lorik to eat. He was counting on getting some rest of his own when Roran made it to town with the wagon. His eyes felt gritty and his muscles ached, especially his shoulder, which had turned a dark purple where the raider had struck him with the wooden club. But Stone had dealt with injuries before, some much worse than a deep bruise. Lorik’s stomach was in need of stitches, but he’d had to settle for poultice and fresh bandages. One of the women they had rescued was busy patching up the teamster’s shirt.

In the early afternoon Roran arrived. Stone woke Lorik, who got up without a complaint and went to see about his wagon and cargo. Stone fell asleep, and it was late before Lorik came back to wake him up.

“Time for supper,” he told Stone. “They’ve got a room ready for you at the inn. No sense sleeping outdoors if you don’t have to.”

“Oh, God,” Stone said as he slowly sat up. “I hurt all over. I haven’t been this sore since I was thrown off my horse a few years back.”

“You’re lucky that raider clubbed your shoulder instead of your skull. I’ve seen men lose their senses after a blow to the head.”

“Me, too,” Stone agreed. “Anything exciting happen while I was asleep?”

“We unloaded the wagon,” Lorik said. “And Griff showed up again. He had gone off and hidden in an empty workshop, then fell asleep before finding out how we fared. It’s good to know someone’s got your back,” Lorik said sarcastically.

They climbed down from the rooftop and made their way across the market square. Twilight had faded into night, and the stars sparkled in the night sky. When they had neared the inn, Lorik stopped.

“I need to give you a little warning,” he said. “The townsfolk here are planning on asking you to stay.”

“What?”

“They know they’re not prepared if another outlaw comes along. They want someone to stay in town who can fight for them. A constable of sorts.”

“Why me?” Stone asked.

“Well, I could say lack of options, but the truth is you’re an experienced fighter. You planned our attack last night.”

“Not by myself,” Stone argued. “In fact, a lot of it was your idea. You did most of the fighting, too. Why aren’t they asking you?”

“They already have, but I turned them down.”

“So why are you telling me this now?”

“I just thought you’d want to have time to think about things.”

“There isn’t much to think about,” Stone said. “I know I’m still new to our partnership, but I don’t have any intentions of backing out now. Are you trying to hint that I should?”

“No, not at all. I was hoping you’d feel that way, but I didn’t want you to feel pressured either.”

“Let’s get some food,” Stone said. “When are we heading south again?”

“Tomorrow,” Lorik said. They continued walking. “I’ve made arrangements for the rice to be stored here until we come back. I was thinking that, on the next trip, we could take the Mascogee out as well as the marsh schooner. There’s lumber at the mill, but no one to trade with. Roran offered to go out and witness what we take. Then we can settle up once we deliver the rice to Yorick Shire.”

“Sounds good to me,” Stone said.

They ate a hearty meal and spent some time with the locals before turning in for the night. They each had a room on the second floor, and the night passed without incident. At dawn both men rose and washed from the small basins in their rooms. When they came downstairs, the innkeeper had a hot breakfast waiting on them.

“Are you sure we can’t convince at least one of you to stay?” he asked.

“No, you’ll be fine,” Lorik said. “I doubt Thuryk’s raiders will give you any trouble. We’ve cut the head off the snake, and they’ll be busy fighting each other. None of them have the audacity to try and hold an entire town.”