It was at the battle of Raviksmot that I discovered I was a berzerker.
Since Raviksmot was on our side of the Tryaka mountains, the king of Mengradrin at the time, Ivak the fourth, decided to attack the town before winter, thus making sure that the Javikians would have to come through the passes again in the spring to continue the campaign. It was a reasonably good plan, I suppose, though being in the base ranks of the army I had little to say in the matter. Vad Kyrix of Javikiadrin had captured Raviksmot in the summer, in a surprise attack that left us in Mengradrin to curse him for an oathbreaker, having dishonoured the truce of three years before.
We sailed from Sundergar, my friend Nazak and I, when the leaves were just beginning to lose their green colour, and by the time we had rounded the cape and landed to join the army, the leaves had mostly fallen from the trees. It seemed at that point that all the world had become cold and damp, no matter how one tried to warm himself by the fire. That time every year the lands are covered in fog; the misty forests of Urndrin are known for such. The boiling sea is not called that because it actually boils, though in rough weather there is enough foam on the sea to make one think so. But over the sea hangs an almost-perpetual mist, that only breaks up in the late spring and early summer, and in the autumn that mist becomes a fog so thick you can barely see the hand in front of your face.
And yes, I did say Urndrin. That land of barbarians and brutes is where I am from, and nothing anyone has ever said has made me ashamed of it. I know that men in other lands spit and curse when they speak of us; we come in our ships to reive and plunder where we can and when we can, from the coast of Segesthes to the edge of Turismond, and even to the coast of Evir in northern Vallia. Foreigners hate us because we burn and plunder and take slaves. But those men buy slaves from aragorn, Katakis and others; these men are no better than us in my estimation; rather they are less, since what we did out of need they do out of greed.
On all of Kregen, no land is colder or more forbidding than Urndrin; the word Urndrin means simply north-land. We pride ourselves on being close to the Ice floes of Sicce here; in the spring and summer huge islands of ice can be seen floating by on the Boiling Sea, like behemoths, glowing in the light of the two suns with a sort of silver-blue glare; they wander southward, only to explode once they reach the tropics.
In the winter, Urndrin is covered with a thick blanket of snow; when the air is still my homeland has a quiet and serene beauty, though when the wind blows the frost can tear the flesh from your bones. Most of the creatures that live in Urndrin have a thick coat of fur to keep them form the cold. Us apims, however, or humans, as you would call us, have no such protection, and have to improvise.
Traders from many nations come to Urndrin for the thick pelts of animals that live here, and many Urndrinners make a fair living hunting and trapping. But Urndrin is a land of warriors, and hunting, though a useful skill, takes a back seat to acts of valor and skill at arms. We of Urndrin live at the edge of the world, and must fight to keep all that we have.
This time we were fighting against the ambitions of the evil King Sortvar of Javikiadrin, who wished to become king of all Urndrin. Javikiadrin is the nation that lies just to the east of my homeland of Mengradrin, and is inland of us, though they can still reach the sea via the Bay of Daggers.
We all knew what servitude to Sortvar would mean; inevitably slavery for most of the men, and the women would be divided up among the conquerors. Sortvar had made it clear that he would have little mercy for those who resisted him, and we had all heard of the horrors that had happened when he conquered the tiny kingdom of Beltana, up in the mountains. Now it was our turn, and we weren't going to hand him our kingdom without a fight.
Our army gathered in the town of Shivkheim, a port on the sea of daggers. We of Mengradrin, I can say without exaggeration, are the finest shipbuilders of Urndrin, and no other nation has more longships than us. Thus it made sense to gather at the nearest port, and from there prepare to march inland. By the time Nazak and I arrived, the army was almost twenty thousand strong, and everyone judged that we could not be defeated. We knew that Vad Kyrix awaited us in Raviksmot, but we expected that whatever preparations he might have made would come to naught before this force we had gathered.
After all, we had heard that Vad Kyrix had taken the town with only eight thousand men, and now that the snows had come to the mountains, no army would come through the pass to reinforce him. Likewise, we had heard that he had burned the town's wallhouse down, so he could not retreat into the town for a siege.
I had been anxious to leave my home behind me, and when the call went out for volunteers I was happy to enlist, having just come of age, and I left the villiage of my home for Sundergar without regret. Nazak, a friend since childhood, came with me, and excited at the possibility of adventure we set out with light hearts.
I had taken my father's war axe and shield, and had left without telling him, or even saying remberee. I felt a twinge of guilt at the choleric wrath my father would spew forth, as I knew the rest of my family would suffer my father's rage in my place. But I had had enough of my father's temper, and so I kicked the dust of my villiage off my shoes, and left.
Sundergar is not a town I will describe in detail right now, save to say that it was a typical modest-sized Urndrinner town,, and the square in front of Alledur hall was actually paved with flagstones. The Sundergari thought they were quite grand. We drilled incessantly, both in that square and in the fields outside, and our Deldar, one Jortyg the Breaker, promised us he'd make warriors out of us if it killed us. I had to admit, though, that I had a hard time figuring out what marching in place and performing fancy little maneuvers in a group had to do with being warriors.
After a couple of weeks we could form up in a line relatively quickly and without anyone tripping and knocking everyone else over. This was only accomplished because our chief problem, Zirk, who was even younger than I, was held in place by Jortyg standing on his foot most of the time. Whatever the case, our hikdar decided that we were ready, and so we shipped out.
Our villiage was inland, so Nazak and I didn't know a lot about sailing as compared to most of the people we were with, but we could pull an oar with the rest of them, so we left the thinking to them and just pulled when they told us. I did learn that when the weather was foggy, the sailors used a variety of means to determine where the shore was, one of which was to read the way the waves struck the hull. Apparently this could tell you both the depth of the water and distance to shore. I would not learn until much later how that was done.
Shivkheim was a rowdy affair. By the time we arrived a large army camp had been set up on the west side of the brook, and the town stood on the east. We discovered that the town had been closed to soldiers for over a month, thanks to a few violent incidents between townsfolk and soldiers. So the army camp had become a sort of shantytown, with mess halls, ale tents, brothel tents, gambling tents, and all manner of merchants' stalls, all strewn about haphazardly on streets of mud. Nazak and I, and a few others from our Audo got into a fair bit of mischief there, though I will save that story for later.
Dozens of longships were pulled up on the sandy strand of the brook as it emptied into the bay, and that number kept growing, as did the size of our camp. By the time we were ready to leave, the camp was larger than the town of Shivkheim, and I wondered just how nervous those stony-faced guards were that the disgruntled members of the army might try something.
So, full of confidence we set out for Raviksmot, ready to send those Javikians packing for home. The air was crisp and clear, but with that crisp coldness that promises that the snows are on their way, while the twin suns shone down blearily. We were in good spirits, and sung songs as we marched.
But the fog returned on the second day, and an eerie silence fell over the army. As we marched we spoke in whispers, as if a thousand eyes were watching us. Fortunately the road was easy to follow, and we made fair time, though we tended to bunch close together. No one wanted to be left behind in this weather; we had all heard stories like the ones my great-uncle used to tell, about strange creatures stealing people away in the fog.
On the third day it began to rain, a sort of miserable, cold rain that chilled to the bone. My furs became soaked, and the woolens underneath as well. We lit bonfires that night and huddled around them desperately. I imagine that if Vad Kyrix came upon us that night we would not have been able to lift our weapons to fight back.
The rain continued on the fourth day, and we trudged along in the mud, trying to keep dry and warm, and not really succeeding. Many of us carried their shields above their heads, leaning them on their shoulders, trying to keep the rain off. But an Urndrinner shield is a heavy affair, and those men could not keep their shields up for as long as it rained.
In the afternoon we passed though a small village, and the King ordered a halt; we would quarter here for the night, where there were at least roofs to shield us from the rain. Those of us that could fit crammed into the houses trying to get out of the rain, letting the original inhabitants fend for themselves. Sadly, the Sundergar contingent was closer to the rear of the column than the front, and there was no space left in any of the houses. Nazak and I, along with a few of our friends, slept that night in a chicken coop, and were grateful for the shelter.
The rain continued on the next day, though not as hard as it had, and we trudged along in near silence. Though I was traveling in lands I had never before seen, most of the time my eyes looked toward the ground, careful not to trip and fall into the mud. It is truly astonishing just how much mud 20,000 men can make by marching. I felt like I was covered in it; I had become some sort of mud-creature, a loathsome, cold, wet, miserable thing that knew nothing of warmth or dryness or the sky. Nazak woke me with a shake from this reverie when the halt was called; I hadn't noticed. In fact I was astonished that the day was finished.
That night, our Deldars and Hikdars went around the campfires, trying to encourage us. It helped that a quantity of ale was available that night, enough that everyone could have a couple of tankards full. That brought us a little bit of cheer and some warmth to our bones. We were told we would reach Raviksmot tomorrow, and tomorrow would be the fight.
That night, the sky cleared, and the wan starlight of a night of Notor Zan enfolded us. The air became crisp, and cold, almost brittle; and just before midnight, the northern lights, which we call the Veils of Zantarina, began their stately dance across the sky. Lavender, green, and blue, the veils of Zantarina wended their way across the sky like some enchanter's dream, teasing us with the secret mysteries of the night, rippling with that hypnotic ethereal wind; as if some great truth were about to be revealed, but instead, the Veils faded away back into the outer darkness from whence they came.
In Urndrin there are seers who make their living interpreting these Veils, scrying their future within the Veils of the Lady of the Night. They are called the Oracles of Sharina the Stargazer, and we had three of them accompanying our army. I don't know what their opinion was of the night's omens, though I heard from some of the other swods that the three had disagreed on the Veils' meaning. Well, from what I knew of the Oracles, that was typical. Whatever they prophesied, however, didn't halt the progress of the army the next morning.
Chapter 1: Sygar and I make the Pappatu
Chapter 2: Language Lessons
Chapter 3: A Long Way from Home
Chapter 4: The Road to Raviksmot
Chapter 5: The Battle of the Barrels
Chapter 6: Wrangling
Chapter 7: Saved by the Bell
Chapter 8: I am Invited to Dinner