Ravengard | Chapter 1

The First Raid

I call to mind the kin of etins

which long ago did give me life.

Nine worlds I know, the nine abodes

of the glorious world-tree the ground beneath.

(The Prophecy of the Seeress, St. 2)

My father and my father’s father had a sworn duty to protect the people of clan Ravengard from any and all dangers. They slew bears, wolves, and raiders from other clans.

But neither of them had ever needed to protect their people from the giants.

The two blue and white strikecraft roared through the sky. They flew low over our village. Plasma bolts erupted against the ground, carving their way through the streets. Our two auto-turrets couldn’t get an angle on the first pass. The giants flew away and prepared to come around.

I lowered my rifle. Firing on the strikecraft was useless. My plasma bolts didn’t do any damage. The two auto-turrets—my grandfather named them after Odin’s wolves, Geri and Freki—fired relentlessly at the craft as they zipped through the sky and tore up the ground with their strafing runs. I saw my clansmen lying in the dirt, smoke spewing from their bodies. Ulfric dragged himself across the ground for cover, pulling with his arms and pushing with his remaining leg.

I stayed low and sprinted across the battlefield. Ulfric’s cries were audible now that I was closer to him. I grabbed under his arms and hauled him into the nearest house.

“You’re alright,” I said. “You’ll be fine.”

Ulfric said nothing, and continued groaning in pain and clutching his leg.

The giants’ strikecraft screeched through the air outside. I wondered when they would stop. They’d hit our village enough. We were weak. When were the ground troops arriving?

Probably after Geri and Freki were dead.

I peered through the open doorway as the next strafing run moved across the ground and barely missed Freki. The two guns in front of the clan hall fired away, their plasma beams lit up the sky with their yellow glow. The blue bolts of the giants continued aiming for the turrets and missing by a few feet. It wouldn’t be long before—

Geri blew sky-high. The fireball glowed bright as metal shrapnel flew everywhere. The villagers screamed. Their last line of defense was failing them. Only the gods could stop the giants now.

No. Not the gods. The Jarl.

I marched from the house, my eyes searching the sky. I aimed my weapon up. The screech of strikecraft engines echoed from above the trees. I squinted at the stormy clouds above, searching for movement. There, a strikecraft bearing down on Freki. The turret was busy dealing with the other strikecraft as it drew the gun’s fire away from the attacker. I took careful aim, steadying my weapon and breathing deep.

My lasers flew through the air and slammed into the hull of the giant’s craft. It didn’t do much damage aside from some fresh burn marks on the hull, but it was enough to startle the pilot. The strikecraft pulled away, giving Freki the time he needed to find the target, calculate the lead, and fire.

The craft erupted into flames and dropped like a stone.

The other strikecraft turned tail and flew away from clan Ravengard. Our first defense against giants was a success.

Almost.

I looked around at the village. Children wailed as their mothers held them close, or as they grabbed onto their mothers’ limp hands. Villagers tended to one anothers’ wounds and dowsed fires. Houses crumbled and blazed.

Never had I seen our village suffer such destruction.

“I warned you, Jarl Erik.”

I found Godi Ragnvald Geir hobbling over to me on his feeble legs. His large, augmented eyes glowed yellow. He grabbed onto his walking staff as though it was the only thing holding his aging body up, and I half believed that was true.

“Your time as Jarl of clan Ravengard is filled with destruction,” Ragnvald said. “You can either accept it and hand your title to your brother, or fight it and reap the consequences.”

I stared at the destruction before me. Half our village lay in ruins. Who knew how many dead and injured? Too many, I knew that much. While Ravengard was under the care of my father and my father’s father, there had never been this much destruction and bloodshed.

“I will not allow my people to die,” I said. “Neither will I submit to the whims of the cosmos. I was entrusted to lead, and so shall I lead, come what may.”

Ragnvald sighed and lowered his eyes. “So be it, Jarl Erik.”

****

As soon as the fires were dowsed, I called for a clan meeting. But it seemed the call wasn’t necessary. As I entered the clan hall, the table was already half full. As I stepped further inside, the talking and shouting grew quieter. My footsteps echoed off the walls. Everywhere I turned, I saw either eyes look away or glare at me. I met their glares and held my head high, despite the weariness and sorrow in my heart. Signs of weakness were not what these people needed now. They needed a strong leader. A fierce leader. A warrior leader.

“Erik!”

I spun and found Trond marching toward me with arms open wide as his smile. Nothing could dampen that radiant grin.

I embraced my brother.

He patted me on the shoulder and brushed his long hair out of his face. “That was an excellent shot.”

“I didn’t damage the ship. I only gave Freki an opening.”

“Don’t let the compliment go to your head.” He paused, looking me up and down. “I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“And you. How are Eyedis and Arvid?”

“Arvid is ready to march straight into Jotunheim. If he can keep his footing. You know how the boy is. Always has his head in the clouds, doesn’t pay attention to where he’s going. Not to mention his memory. If I had a—“

“Trond, Eyedis,” I said. “How is she?”

Trond paused. His smile softened for a moment, but never wavered. “She’ll be alright. She’s strong. It’s not fatal, thank the gods. She’s more worried about losing her grandmother’s ring than her finger.”

“But they’re both safe?”

“Yes, brother. They’re both safe.”

“Good. You have a strong family. I hope you’re proud of them.”

“Of course, I am,” Trond said. “I’d be prouder if Arvid had his father’s sense of humor rather than his uncle’s. Although, I’m not sure he has yours, either. I don’t think it’s that he doesn’t find my jokes funny. I think it’s that he doesn’t understand them.”

I couldn’t help but grin a little. Count on Trond to bring light to any darkness, no matter how deep. I’m sure he could even make a trip to Helheim sound leisurely.

“I’ll start the meeting, then,” I said.

“Right.”

We both took our spots at the table. I at the head, and Trond on my right. The talking had shrank into whispers and murmurs, now. I drew my pistol and slammed the handle onto the table like a hammer. The crack rang out, and all the voices fell silent.

I fixed my braided beard and folded my large hands in front of me. I could still smell burning wood and the ozone-like scent of discharged plasma weapons. Dust and ash covered me, but now was not the time to wash. We needed to plan.

“Today,” I said, “we faced an unprecedented emergency: an attack from the giants. Never before have we faced such a foe, and I’m very proud to have fought against them with the likes of clan Ravengard. You all did well, and I want you all to be proud of how you acted today.”

One of the older clansmen, Njord, stood from his seat. “There were only two strikecraft, and they took out Geri. Yet you treat this as though it were some kind of victory?”

There was a murmur of agreement.

“What of my dear Sigrun?” said Erna, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ll never hear her songs again. Is that a victory?”

“They’ll be back,” Njord said. “And when they come, there’ll be more. They’ll hunt us down like dogs and slaughter us!”

More agreement, angry yelling, and pounding on the table.

I stood and threw my chair back. “SILENCE!”

The hall fell quiet. I couldn’t even hear the singing of the birds outside. Then again, maybe there were no birds to sing songs.

“I do not call this a victory,” I continued. “I only wished you to know that you did everything you could, and whatever happened could not have been helped. But this is a tragedy. You’re right. It’s possible the giants will come back stronger than before. We need to find a way to hold them back, and we need to figure out what they want. They wouldn’t just kill us for no reason.”

“Yes they would,” Njord said. “They’re savages. Monsters. To them, we’re just animals. This might have been a game they play, and we just ticked them off by shooting down one of their own.”

“What would you have had me do? Stay inside? Hide like a coward? Let the giants fly back and forth, killing more of our people with each run?”

“We could have fled into the woods. We could have hid. Now, they’re coming to kill us and our families. You’ve doomed us, Erik.”

There was too much agreement at that statement. I sighed and hung my shoulders. If they had no confidence in me, there was nothing I could do about that. Maybe Ragnvald was right. Maybe I needed to step down as Jarl and give Trond my position. I had failed the gods, I had failed Ravengard, and I had failed my father.

“My brother,” Trond said, “risked everything to save you all. When those strikecraft were in the air, raining fire on our village, our Jarl stepped out into the open, becoming an easy target for those monsters, all so he could maybe hit one of the strikecraft, maybe giving Freki an opening, and maybe saving you lot. Are those the actions and choices of a pathetic and cowardly leader, or is that a story that is worthy of being told in the halls of Asgard? If anyone here will bring the attention and the blessings of the gods to us, it will be Jark Erik, the Giant Slayer.”

All eyes turned to me. I wanted to sink into the shadows, but this is what Ravengard needed. A hero. A legend. My eyes met Njord’s, and he turned away from me, sitting back down.

I huffed. “I do not do these things so that I might boast. I do them so that you might live. Together, we will find a way to fight back against these giants. I swear it.”

“But why do they attack us?”

It was Ragnvald, who sat hunched over on the far side of the table. “We do not possess anything they might want. Is Njord right, and this is merely sport for them? Or is there something more? Maybe they see the scattered clans of humanity, believe us weak, and are trying to start Ragnarok at such an opportune time.”

Murmurs spread across the table. I knit my brow and stared at Ragnvald. Everything led to Ragnarok with that man. Ragnarok was always right around the corner. Just a day or two away.

Yet he was right. Who knew the hour of Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods? And if the giants were trying to start it while humanity was scattered and weak, they would have a major advantage against us.

“While this motive is unlikely,” I said, “it must be considered. If the giants are trying to start Ragnarok, why begin with us?”

“Maybe they’re not trying to start it,” Trond said. “Maybe they’re testing us for our strength. Maybe they’re planning a campaign against Midgard to wipe out humanity and give themselves an edge when the Final Battle begins.”

“Possibly, but we can’t know for sure.”

Njord pounded on the table. “What good is trying to figure out why the giants are attacking us? The reality is that they’re here, and they’ve come to kill us. We need to figure out a response.”

“If we learn their motives,” I said, “we may be able to broker a deal with them so that they might get what they want and leave us in peace.”

“A deal? They’re savages. What they want is to wipe us out. We cannot peacefully submit to them, for they are not peaceful.”

Murmurs of agreement.

I pursed my lips. As much as I hated to admit it, I suspected Njord was right. The giants wanted nothing from us but our lives. They wanted to kill humanity, and that began with the clans scattered across Midgard. Once they cleared us out of the way, they’d have a straight shot to Soemd. King Agnar wouldn’t see it coming.

“We can’t let the giants past us,” I said. “We might be small, but it’s up to us to hold the line.”

Njord knit his brow. “For what? To protect the kingdoms? What have they done for us? What do we owe them that we must put ourselves on the line and give our lives to protect them from these giants?”

“Nothing. We owe them nothing.”

The table began speaking again. I saw incredulous looks passed from clansmen to clansmen. Confused squints were shot my direction.

“However,” I began loudly to silence the voices, “when Ragnarok begins—and make no mistake, it will begin—who will you look to for protection? The Final Battle. The battle to end all battles. The end before the new beginning. Does this sound like something clan Ravengard can face alone? Does this sound like something you’re prepared to defend your families against? If we are to survive Ragnarok, we must protect the kingdoms. It’s the only way humanity will endure.”

Njord shook his head. “This is all with the guess that Ragnarok will happen in our lifetime.”

“I do not guess that will happen, nor do I hope. But I would certainly like to be prepared if it comes.”

“My brother is right,” Trond said. “We are small. The kingdoms are strong. We need them on their guard if the giants are trying to start Ragnarok.”

“So, we warn them,” Njord said. “We tell them what happened and ask for their protection. They might even tell the gods of our plight and send a protector. Perhaps they send us Thor.”

Erna, still grasping the bloodied dress of her daughter, looked up at Njord with a fierce fire behind those teary eyes. “The gods? When have the gods ever cared about us? We must defend ourselves. We cannot rely on the Vanir or the Aesir to protect us. None come to protect but our own warriors.”

“What of the Valkyrie?” I asked. “Did three of their warrior maidens not fight alongside my father’s father against that raider party when all our other warriors were sick and injured? Did they not choose my father’s father for Valhalla? We were blessed that Odin would send his warriors to us. The gods favor us.”

“If that happened, then yes, I’d say the gods favor us,” Erna said. “But we still have nothing to go on but your father’s word.”

“What of my grandfather’s body? Where has it gone if not into the possession of the Valkyrie?”

“Eaten in the wild, I presume.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. “I suppose you’re right about one thing. If the gods do not come or send protectors, we must be ready to fight for ourselves.”

“How?” Njord said. “You saw what they did with not but two strikecraft. We’re defenseless against the giants. Clansmen we’ve fought. Beasts we’ve fought. But those monsters? We cannot take them on.”

“You’re right. We cannot. That is why we need a weapon.”

Trond shot me a look. “A weapon?”

“Yes. One that can rival even the technology of the giants. One made by the great smiths.”

Trond laughed a little, hope flashing in his eyes that I had finally picked up his sense of humor. “Surely, you jest.”

“No, I do not. I will journey to Nidavellir. I will ask the dwarfs for help in forging a weapon to protect us.”

“With what money? Brother, you can’t expect them to agree to this.”

“What choice do we have?”

“We can ask the kingdoms for help. King Agnar is nearby. He’ll send some of his forces to help protect us from the giants. His soldiers will keep them at bay. It’s in the best interest of the Soemd Kingdom, just as it is our best interest.”

“That’s if he believes our story.”

“He would doubt the great Jarl Erik?”

I couldn’t help but grin at that one. “Ravengard is one of the many small clans. Why should the giants attack us? He would think we’re lying so we can bolster our forces, maybe to help fight a rival clan. I will ask, but I doubt he will help us.”

Trond nodded. “Then it is to Nidavellir.”

“But who will lead us while you’re gone?” Njord asked. “Surely not this hunter, who knows not more than how to skin a rabbit.”

I glared at him. “You watch your tongue, you—“

“Please,” Trond said. “I know how to skin a squirrel, too.”

The table chuckled a little, but not Njord, whose gaze was as hard as ever.

Trond put his hands on his hips. “But no, not me. I plan to travel with our Jarl, if that is his wish.”

I looked at my brother, and he smiled back at me. A hunter in a small human clan traveling the cosmos. I suppose it wasn’t much more absurd as the leader of said small human clan venturing out onto the branches of Ygddrasil. Besides, I could use the company. Maybe his friendly personality could persuade King Agnar to help us, and our journey would end before it began.

I nodded to Trond. “It is my wish that you would go with me.”

A chair scraped across the wooden floor, and Ragnvald stood, leaning heavily on his staff. “I’m coming, too. You’ll need the wisdom of a godi on such a journey, not to mention my knowledge of the cosmos and of the gods.”

“Very well,” I said. “I ask that the rest of you stay and look out for one another. Rebuild the houses, tend to the fields, and care for the wounded. Trond, is he ready?”

Trond smiled and bowed slightly. “He is.”

I looked over the table. “My nephew, Arvid, will lead you while we are gone.”

The table groaned and complained.

Njord bared his teeth. “That oaf? You’ve got to be joking.”

“Arvid is not an oaf,” I said. “He might have two left feet, but his mind is as sharp as ever. He’ll make a fine leader, of that I’m sure. Besides, since he is third in line to Jarl after my brother, I’m sure it will be good practice for him.”

Erna raised an eyebrow at me. “You ought to have a child, Erik. I don’t want to be stuck with Arvid as leader after this journey kills you.”

Trond crossed his arms. “If you think Erik can have a child that quick, then I’m not sure you understand human biology very well.”

“I will have no more ill talk of Arvid,” I said. “He will lead you while I am gone, and that is final. My brother and I leave first thing tomorrow. You’re all dismissed.”

With more grumbling and the scraping of chairs against the ground, the people of clan Ravengard left the clan hall. I picked my chair up from where I’d thrown it, placed it back at the head of the table, and sat with my chin resting on my fist. The clan was restless, and I couldn’t blame them. After such an attack, I was restless, too. They were probably frustrated that they had nothing to do while my brother and I voyaged among the stars. We had a destination. They were being made to wait here until we returned. It was unfair to them.

Trond had stayed sitting with crossed arms. His blond hair flowed over his shoulders. “They are anxious. Do you think leaving Arvid to lead them is wise?”

“You ask me now? You said he was ready.”

“I don’t doubt his abilities, but I doubt the people’s allegiance. They won’t stand for it. They think him a fool.”

“And you?”

“Of course not. He’s the smartest man I’ve ever known, save for father.”

I nodded. “If only I had father’s wisdom to guide me now.”

“That wouldn’t be of much help. Not even he faced giants.”

“Thank you for your encouragement.”

Trond grinned. “Hey, you made a joke.”

“I could use some humor now.”

“No problem. That’s my strong suit.”

“So says you. Eyedis tells me otherwise.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Trond says. “She just has her moods.”

“Shouldn’t you go spend the night with her before our voyage?”

“Not when you seem as troubled as you do.”

I grinned. “Thank you, brother. But you can go. Send my love.”

“Erik, are you sure—?”

“I’m fine, Trond,” I said. “Go.”

Trond stood and gave a slight bow. It didn’t matter how many times I told him I was his brother first and his Jarl second, he insisted on showing his allegiance to my leadership as a clansman.

The hall was silent now. The bickering, groaning, and complaining were gone. Father had warned me about that. When in leadership, people will always have something to say about you. That doesn’t mean you’re not doing what’s best for them. It only means they hold you to a higher standard, as well they should.

I stood and marched out of the hall, returning to my house nearby. The wooden door creaked open. I undid my belt and set it on the table, leaving my pistol behind. There was already a lantern on. I had left it on in case he needed to get up to get some water or relieve himself. But I was sure he was in bed now.

“Father?”

I stepped into his room, and sure enough, the man who once towered over me, battling beasts with his bulky arms, who had once shown me his wisdom as a Jarl and taught me how to lead our clan, lay graying before me, pale, thin, and weak. His breaths were labored. He wheezed with every inhale. His dark eyes stared blankly at the ceiling above.

I sat by his bed. “Father, I’m here.”

He struggled to speak. “How did… the meeting… go?”

“Well enough. Trond and I are to depart for Soemd. If we cannot enlist the help of the king, then we make for Nidavellir, where we will ask the dwarfs to forge a weapon for us.”

“When will… the giants… return?”

“I don’t know, Father.”

“You understand… that they will be back?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Then you are wise.”

I grabbed his skeletal hand, his fingers so cold. “I doubt my wisdom of late, Father.”

“Oh? What… troubles you?”

“We’ve never fought giants before. We don’t know when they will return. Each day Trond and I are gone may spell doom for our clan. We may have nothing to return to. You might… I can’t lose you.”

Old Jarl Ingolf, with all his effort, turned his pale face to look at me. “I am already lost, whether it be by giants or age.”

“Then it should be by giants, so the Valkyrie might choose you for Valhalla. You’ve earned your spot among Odin’s warriors.”

“It is not your place to judge who has earned Valhalla and who hasn’t,” Ingolf said. “If it is my fate to die of old age, then it is my fate.”

“But we can change it. We can give you an end you deserve.”

“My son, Ragnvald has already told me that the Norns gave him foresight into my future. I am to pass here on this bed of old age. I will not be in Valhalla.”

I crammed down the sudden well of emotions, forcing them back. “We shall see, father.”

“Ragnvald said your time as Jarl would be full of destruction.”

I paused, staring at my father. “Are you saying that I should step down as Jarl? That Trond should take my place?”

“No,” Ingolf said. “I’m only saying that this was meant to be, just as you were meant to be Jarl. Things that must happen happen. You must trust that. Do you understand, my son?”

“I understand, but I do not accept. I will find a way to stop the giants. I will save our clan. You have my word.”

“Then it is your word against the gods’.”

****

I stared over my shoulder at the houses that made our village. No, it wasn’t the houses. It was the people living inside them. They were the village. Without them, there would be no clan Ravengard. And if I failed, there also would be no clan Ravengard.

Past the villagers watching Trond and I, I spied my house with my father inside. The great Jarl Ingolf was probably sleeping, his eyes closed in peaceful rest. Would he remain when I came back, or would he be offered up on a pyre?

“He’ll be alright,” Trond said. “Eyedis will look after him.”

My gaze remained on the house. “I have no doubt that she will do a great job. But I do not know if his age can be cured by mortals.”

“What, are you going to take the Fruit of Life itself from Asgard? He’ll be here when we get back. You’ll see.”

“He grows weaker by the hour. Old age doesn’t suit him.”

“I agree. And speaking of age, where is that blasted godi?”

Ragnvald was taking far too long to prepare. I half suspected that he delayed our journey intentionally. To what purpose, I do not know. But who can predict the plans of one who believes he knows the future?

Finally, Ragnvald emerged with Arvid walking alongside him, carrying Ragnvald’s travel case. Ragnvald hobbled towards our waiting landspeeder as it hovered above the overturned ground, the engines whining softly as they idled.

“I am here, my friends,” Ragnvald said.

Trond adjusted himself in the driver’s seat. “It’s about time. Did it take longer to relieve yourself than you expected?”

“Enough jokes, young hunter. It’s time we were off.”

“It’s been time. But I guess you predicted we would leave later, huh?”

The old man glowered as he climbed into the speeder. “Drive, Trond.”

“As you wish.”

Eyedis, her auburn hair blowing in the breeze, placed her uninjured hand on Trond’s face and smiled. “Come back to me in one piece, alright?”

Trond scoffed. “You’re one to talk.”

Eyedis smiled and rolled her eyes. “Hey, I’m not the one gallivanting across the stars. Be careful. I’ll make your favorite dinner when you get back.”

“A lot of everything?”

“A lot of everything.”

“I love you.”

Arvid came close to Trond and stared at his father. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Trond grinned. “Of course, you can. Tell him, Erik.”

“I wouldn’t have chosen you if I didn’t trust you,” I said. “You’ll do a good job of taking care of our people. I’m sure of it.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You will.”

“I don’t want to let you down. You or my father.”

Trond pulled his son close and rubbed the top of his skull. “Oh, Arvid. As long as you do your best and consult your grandfather when you have questions, you can’t let us down.”

Arvid wrinkled his nose. “Grandfather? Isn’t he… you know, old?”

“That’s exactly why you should consult him,” Trond said. “He’s seen more days than you or I. He’s the wisest of the village. If anyone has answers for you, it’s him. Just don’t bother him too often. He naps a lot.”

Arvid snickered.

Trond nodded. “Right. I suppose that’s us off, then. We’ll be back before you can spell Jotunheim.”

Trond looked at me. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

“I must warn you,” Ragnvald said from the back, “this task may prove too much for us to handle. You know what I think the best course of action is.”

“I do,” I said. “But I will not have fate rule over my life.”

“It already does.”

I ignored him. “To Soemd, brother.”

“To Soemd.”

He threw the throttle, and the land speeder shot forward.

---

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