Einar’s imagination had failed him. What he had thought the giant would look like and what it did were not close at all.

  This one that was charging after his warrior was easily ten feet taller and had some kind of hanging hides that covered its chest and upper legs. The same kind of material wrapped both feet like moccasins or something like that. Even worse was the pair of trees it carried, each well over fifteen feet long, appearing not to have much damage done to them, almost looking like they were cared for.

  “THOSE ARE STONE TREES!” Bartia shouted. “CAREFUL!”

  Cursing under his breath, Einar waved at Vidar and Thorodd.

  A horn sounded as the taller Viking blew it, signaling Hogni to lead the giant that direction.

  His horse looked ready to fall over, foam dripping from its mouth as it galloped toward the trees and any chance of safety.

  “Be ready!”

  His shout was drowned out by the giant's thundering steps, and Einar waited for the moment to strike.

  Some yelling came from the Vikings in the trees, and Hogni jumped off the horse. Rolling as he landed, he was back on his feet and sprinting toward the place where Thorodd was waiting.

  Each second it took for their archer to reach Thorodd, his lead over the giant was eaten up. Enormous strides covered twenty to thirty yards as the oversized brute gave chase.

  Now is when we need some luck…

  Having prayed all that he could, Einar waited, watching the giant slow down its stride slightly, its head swiveling as it drew closer to the trees. He also watched the pair of Vikings move deeper into it.

  “It’s not going,” Skardi whispered. “Why–”

  Arrows began to assault their foes' faces as four warriors emerged from the trees they were leading the giant toward.

  It howled, holding up an arm to protect its eyes and swung a tree, connecting it against a truck of one that stood forty feet taller.

  A crack echoed through the forest, and the green foliage and countless branches fell.

  Flames washed over the giant face and Einar felt the plan going to shit as Ragna prepared to send another attack at the creature that sensed something was wrong.

  Less than ten seconds passed, and the giant roared as more arrows and another fire bolt came at it. It was tired of this game, charging forward as it lifted up one of its weapons.

  The trees groaned, and a loud pop sounded as the giant pitched forward. The wire set as a trap broke, and they were unable to stop it or trip like they had hoped.

  Still, it made their foe pitch forward slightly, its left foot slamming down into a pit trap, crushing the well-made covering and doing enough damage to appear to make it cry out.

  “NOW!”

  Yells and shouts came as he gave the order, Vikings spilling out from different forest areas.

  Some had bows and arrows, while only a few warriors, they hoped, were strong enough to pierce its skin and carry the poisoned spears.

  With more agility than Einar had expected, the giant kept itself from falling completely, using the weapon in its hand to brace itself. Slipping through another pit they had dug, the giant hoped to catch another part of its body.

  Flames illuminated the creature's black, greasy hair and Einar joined the charge, glancing at where Avitue and her warriors were.

  Bartia was with them, a shout coming from the dwarf as they crossed the opposite side of the road, each ready to attack it from behind.

  Jepi and his men were on the far side of the giant, and the sound of a harpoon being released came, missing the bent-over giant by a few feet, flying under its chest and almost taking out one of Vidar’s men.

  The wayward shot flew into the forest, and a pit began forming in his stomach as the attack they needed to cause real damage was missed entirely.

  A single glance from Thorodd, his hand held up, waiting to hear what order he would give, was cut off as the giant swung its left hand, that large tree slamming into the Vikings that had gotten too close.

  Even over all the noise of battle, the sounds of bodies being crushed could be heard.

  There were three distinct sounds and only time would tell who those three were that had fallen.

  Calling upon his Wyrd, Einar hurled his spear as it was covered in flames, aiming for the thigh that wasn’t protected by the hanging garment.

  It pierced the skin, sinking halfway in and the giant turned, eyes narrowed and roared.

  Rising from where it was kneeling, it stood up, ignoring the spears and arrows that assaulted it, using its weapons for support to get to a spot where it could yank its left foot from the pit.

  A large tree trunk that had been sharpened and hardened with fire stuck out of it.

  It dropped the weapon in its right hand, reached down, and yanked the spike free, throwing it at a trio of Vikings who were preparing to toss their spears at it.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  One was struck, his body cut in half. As the warrior fell over, the red hair and size told Einar it had been Eskil, one of Jepi’s men.

  “I need a spear!”

  He shouted it twice, finding two Vikings coming to him, each holding theirs out.

  Rage flowed through him and Einar hurled one at the giant’s head, wanting to curse as it lifted its right hand, blocking the attack as the metal pierced its palm.

  He pulled back some, throwing another, motioning for more, each one covered in flames.

  The one he sent at its chest barely made it through whatever the hide was that the giant wore.

  Not even with flames? What about–

  A scream cut off his thoughts as the giant spun, dragging its weapon in its left hand along the ground, taking out two of Avitue’s shieldmaidens.

  In the creature’s butt cheek was a spear, barely sticking out, having somehow hit a soft section of skin.

  His wife was shouting, and another woman gave her the spear she carried. Even from this distance and the chaos around him, Einar could see the air she was surrounding the spear with.

  Holy shit! She–

  Wanting to praise and celebrate her success, that moment vanished as Bartia tackled her, the two of them rolling as the trunk came around, almost taking Avitue’s head off.

  Even though the giant was tall, injured and struggling to use its left foot, the creature moved fast enough that everyone was starting to realize that getting within twenty or thirty yards was asking to get killed. It was quick enough to take that single step and swing, the added length of its weapon having surprised another pair of Vikings at its speed.

  A horn sounded from across the road, and Einar glanced in that direction, seeing Osvif waving at him.

  The other ballista…

  Nodding and waving, Einar started shouting.

  “PUSH AND LURE IT! TO THE OTHER SIDE!”

  Yells came from all over and he moved to where Avitue was, preparing to throw another spear.

  She was covered in sweat, dirt caked to her skin from the tumble on the road with Bartia.

  Her attack flew faster than his and he wanted to complain, but Einar didn’t care who killed this thing. It just needed to die.

  The giant roared as her attack caught it in the thigh, sinking two-thirds in.

  “How many more?”

  “Three? Maybe four!”

  Grunting, he nodded and drew back the one he held, took a few steps and hurled it at their foe.

  Its eyes somehow tracked it and the wooden trunk deflected it, sending the spear off to the side, flames still covering it.

  “You need to lure this! I can’t!” Einar shouted at his wife.

  A single nod of her head was all she gave him, turning and ordering the women around her who began moving into position, spears ready.

  “You’re going to let her be bait?”

  Skardi’s voice caught him off guard, knowing the larger Viking had been near him but not expecting that question.

  “Right now, only she can make these things pierce like that. You’ve seen it deflecting my attacks. Got a better idea?”

  The warrior grunted, shaking his head.

  “I’ll go tell Thorodd and the others. You keep her safe.”

  Einar took the spear Skardi held out to him and moved to flank the giant, watching as it took steps toward his wife and the shield maidens. Another spear had pierced the same leg.

  It might bleed out, or it might not…

  Each step it took was difficult and strained. It used its left weapon like a crutch to help offset the weight on its foot.

  Einar sent a flaming spear at it when it did that, striking its arm near the elbow.

  Together, he and Avitue led it closer to where Osvif was.

  A horn sounded from behind, and glancing back, he saw his friend waving from the wagon with the ballista set in the back, aimed in their direction.

  Twenty more feet should put it in range, anything else and–

  Movement caught Einar’s vision from the side and he spotted the tree the giant had been holding in its right hand flying through the air at Bartia.

  The dwarf stood there, unable to move in time.

  She groaned as her body snapped to the side, the log clipping her just slightly and sending her rolling.

  A cloud of dirt washed over her and along the road.

  Avitue was panting, having dropped to her knees, one hand held outward.

  She… did it!

  Einar knew his wife had tapped into that thread which helped activate their ability to draw upon the wyrd within them. She had sent some kind of wind wall or something that had slammed into Bartia just enough to move her from taking a direct blow from the log that had tumbled end over end into the forest.

  A roar came, followed by a howl and Einar turned, seeing the harpoon sticking out of the giant’s throat.

  “It’s falling!”

  He didn’t hesitate, seeing the giant starting to wobble and drop, not sure who had yelled out the warning, racing to where Aviteu was, knowing she wouldn’t be able to dodge the falling mound of flesh in time.

  [ Rune Empower ]

  His body surged with the power of every stat doubling and his wife let out a cry as he yanked her from the ground.

  A popping sound came and he knew he had probably pulled her shoulder out of the socket but he didn’t care, sensing the mass of the giant almost upon them.

  They made it just a few more strides before the ground shook and dust went out in ever direction.

  Slowing down, Einar got a better hold on Avitue and set her on the ground, looking her over.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m alive… thank you,” she replied, wincing a little as she raised a hand, brushing his cheek. “You… moved so fast.”

  “And you shot wind from your hands! You saved Bartia!”

  Both of them turned to look at where the dwarven woman was, seeing her sitting up, blood soaking through her right side, and an arm that looked like it had been crushed between a hammer and an anvil.

  “I… I didn’t want her to die,” Avitue whispered. “She’s a friend. A warrior and I felt it. Inside me. That rage you talk about, which makes you do what you do. One moment all of my power was there. It took everything but… I did it.”

  Wiping some of the caked-on dirt off her forehead, Einar nodded and kissed the slightly cleaner skin.

  “You did and for that, someone will have to create a song for how you saved a dwarven woman by farting in her direction.”

  Avitue laughed and winced as the vibration shook her arm, which hung by her side.

  “I’m going to make you pay for doing this,” she stated. “Husbands aren’t supposed to hurt their wives like this.”

  Rising to his feet, Einar nodded and stepped back, seeing some of the shield maidens had come to assist.

  “Reports! I need to know who died and I need someone to heal our dwarven friend!”

  Vikings moved, and those who worked the caravan flooded out from the forest, everyone coming to do what the leader of these packs had called for.

  “And prepare a bonfire!” Eniar shouted. “We offer sacrifices to our gods!”