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  Chapter Eighteen - Anna’s Army

  One moment Anna was standing alone in the grove between the other children at the temple door and Gurthrunn, who was now surrounded by dark elves. The next second an army had appeared all about her, an army of the warrior women of the gods: an army of Valkyries. Each one was taller than most men in Anna’s village and powerfully built, wearing chain armour and bearing fearsome-looking axes or swords, and shields.

  ‘So this is what Kendra once looked like,’ thought Anna, as one of the women, with long, almost silvery hair, stepped forward and stared at her.

  “I am Lydia, Chieftain of the Valkyries. Who, mortal child, are you that you dare to summon us with that horn?”

  “My name is Anna. I do not have time to explain. There are dark elves here,” she pointed at the svartálfar that were even now backing away from the new arrivals. “See there. That is not all. One of you, a Valkyrie named Kendra, is their leader.”

  “Kendra? She is here?”

  Anna nodded. “She is after this horn - Heimdall’s horn. But I found it and blew it and that is how you are here.”

  The warrior woman studied Anna for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “Kendra is our sister,” she said at last.

  Anna felt her heart sinking. Had she called yet more allies to fight alongside the sorceress? If so there were all doomed.

  “She is indeed our sister,” Lydia said, “or was, but she betrayed us and the gods. She took service with the trickster god and fled Asgard with other faithless ones and many treasures. She is no longer one of us.”

  “So, will you help us?” Anna asked.

  The Valkyrie bowed her head. “You blew the horn. It only calls for one who it deems a champion. We answer the call. My sisters and I stand ready to go where you lead. We will fight who you fight and strive for your victory. What is your command, champion?”

  Anna’s legs were trembling with relief and it took her a moment to recover from hearing this powerful warrior woman refer to her as ‘champion’. Then she heard villagers screaming, their cries for help carrying up to the grove. She had to act right now. “Follow me, we attack the elves and Kendra and save my people,” she shouted, turning to run down the path, her seax at the ready.

  The Valkyries followed her and behind them came Lar, Wilburh, Hild and Ellette. Anna reached Gurthrunn, who was struggling back onto his feet. Giving him a quick smile, she took up position at the dwarf warrior’s side and then, with an army of Valkyries coming up behind her, Anna led the charge against the dark elves. Taking one look at Anna’s army, they turned as one and fled down the hill.

  Whooping, Anna chased them, running along the tree-lined path and down to the village where Kendra, with lightning still spitting from her hands and storm clouds swirling over her head, was screaming at the dark elves to turn and fight. Intimidated by the sorceress, they did as she commanded, holding up their weapons and snarling at the approaching enemy.

  “Gurthrunn, Lydia: attack Kendra,” Anna shouted. “Send some of your sisters with me. My friends and I are going to save our people.” Without looking back to see if her command was being obeyed, Anna ran on southwards, heading for the open field beyond the wheat strips where she and her companions had hidden from Iden.

  The villagers had fled back towards the woods, but the svartálfar were faster and had cut them off. Now, one hundred of the vicious dark elves had surrounded them and were swarming around, snarling and threatening the thirty adults with their spears and swords. The villagers were mostly farmers and craftsman; few were warriors. Those who were - like Meccus the blacksmith - were swinging blades and hammers or threatening the elves with slings and bows. But they were vastly outnumbered and as the dark elves closed in on them the villagers were doomed.

  Or would have been were it not for Anna, who now led her friends and a dozen Valkyrie on a rescue attempt.

  “Heoruflá æledfýr!” shouted Wilburh, who seemed to have forgotten his exhaustion and got his strength back. His hands shot forth bolts of blazing fire, which incinerated half a dozen elves. Lar, standing tall despite his wound, wielded his bow and without waiting to see if his first arrow had scored a hit, reloaded and sent another one into the enemy. Ellette and Hild were circling off to the left, their slings whirling above their heads, pelting stones at the vile creatures. Then the Valkyries arrived with their swords and Anna with her seax and the hand-to-hand fighting began.

  Anna jumped forward to stab at an elf that had been threatening one of the old folk, but she was forced to retreat again as three svartálfar lunged at her, their curved blades cutting through the air where she had been standing just moments before. One of the Valkyries appeared at Anna’s side and struck two of these attackers down with her sword and Anna advanced once more.

  So the battle raged on, full of movement and fury, back and forth, cut and thrust, stab and parry. Anna’s ears rang with the crash of steel on steel, the screaming and shouting of the fighters, the twang of bowstring, the whirring of arrows and whirling of slings, and over it all, the boom of Wilburh’s magic.

  To begin with, the elves had been taken by surprise by Anna’s charge and she and her companions had made headway into the horde of svartálfar that swarmed around the villagers. But the elves quickly recovered and they outnumbered Anna’s army two to one: it was eighty elves against forty humans and Valkyries. The fighting now got really tough: two Valkyries were soon killed and a villager also died. Then the dark elf-king’s blade cut into Meccus’s shoulder and he fell injured to the ground. Without his strong arm to keep them away the elves surged towards the villagers again and two more men were soon badly hurt. Lar had now run out of arrows, Hild’s sling had snapped and Wilburh’s magic was clearly exhausting him again because he was slumped down on his knees.

  Anna stared across the battlefield, her heart sinking. It was clear that the tide was turning and with numbers in their favour the elves would soon overwhelm and kill them all.

  “Now is the moment, champion, the moment when you win the battle,” the horn’s voice sang in her mind.

  “What do you mean? What must I do?” Anna asked.

  “That is up to you. Upon a champion’s action a battle can turn.”

  “You are a big help!” Anna snapped, her gaze caught by the sight of the dark elf-king, who towered above his warriors. In the midst of the battle, he was spinning round to launch himself at two Valkyries, his huge sword a blur as it whirled around his head. “He is a mighty warrior,” Anna murmured under her breath, “he could win the battle for the elves all by himself.” Then, suddenly, she knew what she had to do.

  The dark elf-king was powerful and mighty indeed, but Anna had one advantage: she was faster and smaller. She moved around to the left of the pair of Valkyries who were fighting the king. The elf flicked a glance at her, took in her small knife and the fact that she was only a child and dismissed her with hardly even a sneer, turning his gaze back to his enemies.

  This was what Anna had hoped for: that the elf warrior would take her as a ‘mere girl’. She waited for him to slash at one of the Valkyries and then ran forward, lunging with her blade, not at the body of the elf, protected as it was by his chain armour, but at his arm. With a grunt of effort she stabbed her seax into his forearm, burying it almost to the hilt.

  The elven king roared out in pain and dropped his sword. He just had time to glare at Anna with astonishment, before the Valkyries took advantage of his defencelessness to leap in and finish him with their own blades.

  As the dark elf-king fell dead at Anna’s feet, the effect on the svartálfar army was immediate. They took one look at Anna and the Valkyries standing over their king’s body and let out a deep wail. Next, with a clattering noise, their spears and knives fell to the ground. Finally, they turned and ran, scattering in all directions.

  In awed silence, for a moment the villagers watched the elves running away and then Meccus, who had dragged himself back onto his feet and was stood cradling his inj
ured arm, started cheering and the villagers all joined in.

  Anna lifted her hands to stop the celebrations. “The battle is not over yet,” she shouted. “Get back to the village!” With that command she turned to run back towards the headman’s hall. Behind her the villagers obeyed her orders without question and followed.

  “That was impressive,” Lar said, running beside his sister. “What you did there was very brave Anna - very smart, mind you, but very dangerous all the same.”

  “The horn gave me the idea really.”

  “Oh no I did not. That was all your idea. The idea of a champion,” the horn said to her. Anna looked sideways at Lar to see if he had heard it, for the horn’s voice sounded so loud to her, but he seemed not to have done and she concluded that it spoke only into her head, like a thought. “That’s right,” it said, “and I can read your thoughts too!”

  Anna had no time to think about this, for now they had reached the village green, only to find that the battle with Kendra’s army was all but over. A few clumps of elves were still fighting the Valkyries, but soon these were dead or fleeing. Anna looked around for the sorceress, but could not see her, nor could she spot Gurthrunn. Then she saw that Lydia was kneeling beside Nerian, who still lay motionless on the ground.

  “Papa!” she screamed and set off at a run. Her brother overtook her and reached Lydia first, flinging himself to his knees to examine their father.

  “Is he...?” Anna asked as Lar bent over Nerian, “... dead?”

  Lar leaned closer so that he could hear if their father was breathing. A look of relief came over his face. “He is still breathing, but it is weak. Kendra’s lightning bolts must have stunned him, but as far as I can see his wounds are not mortal. He is not dead, Anna, praise the gods!”

  Letting out the breath she had been holding, Anna looked around for Hild. She was standing nearby and came running in answer to Anna’s beckoning wave. “Hild, look after my father, will you?” The younger girl nodded and before Anna had finished speaking was kneeling over the village leader, studying his wounds.

  “Where is Gurthrunn and where is Kendra?” Anna asked Lydia.

  The Valkyrie leader hesitated before answering. “My sister struck the dweorgar down and then fled with him before we could catch her.”

  “That is terrible news,” Lar said, getting to his feet.

  “Indeed it is terrible,” Lydia replied, “but not just for Gurthrunn. He had hold of the Brisingamen, which means she has it now!”