The Verdant Prince

Chapter 8: Broken Tools

I was first to arrive on the battle front of our squadron. In front of us lay the battlefield, crowded with many bodies already.

The once golden wall and rocky drop off of Asgard was a shattered hole in the wall. Blue and gray skinned half Jotun barbarians poured through the hole, one after the other the line seeming to never end. They wore crude armor of stone and cheap bronze, their faces tattooed with their own illegible languages and pictures.

The vanguard of six held their ground, slashing away at them and taking them to their knees with ease. I scanned the crowd to see they had formed a line- a barrier to prevent them from breaking through. It would have worked better if the half-bloods weren't increasing their numbers and slipping past the six. Asmund lie on the far left of the line and I set my sights on him.

I slid off of Bjorn and unsheathed my dual handed daggers. I ran to meet the stray barbarian. He swung his icy rock bat at me. He was fairly slow and as I dodged I sliced his throat with ease. I cringed slightly as his cool blood slid down my hand, making it slick. I sprinted to join the ranks- wiping my right hand on my leg.

"Do you have them evacuated?" I shouted over the angry grunts and hollers of the barbarians, I leaned slightly into Asmund so he could hear me better. Asmund jerked his arm up quickly to a gray colored man- his eyes dark with blood rage. The half Jotun suddenly fell to his knees clutching his throat before he began coughing and spitting up shrapnel.

"Well that's new," I jested lightly. Asmund's lips curled up slightly as he blasted a few other forms away.

"First time actually doing it- tada," he said sarcastically. "And yes, everyone from this district is evacuated. We thought if they were to break at all they would break in the west." He said. I glanced back out to the front to see more and more bodies dropping and arrows flying, most likely from Gelka and Tove. I sighed in relief- that means our squadron had caught up to us. I glanced around to find no Thor or Loki and nodded to myself. They were most likely heading back to the palace to prepare further.

Slowly the half-bloods numbers dwindled until there were no more of them. The shattered hole in the wall blowing a chilly breeze to us. The only sound now was the panting between the warriors, the occasional groan of near death barbarians, and the hollow whistle against the broken wall.

"Is everyone all right?" Tove asked, his voice hoarse as if he had been yelling. He tucked his ebony lined bow around his shoulder and back. His ocean blue eyes darting between everyone. He was a good confident archer in our group that towered over most people with broad shoulders but he was truthfully the softest. He would cry in joy if he heard a new child had been born. He had the most gentle heart of us all.

"Ur has a cut in his arm but otherwise I think everyone is alright." Sif's voice broke the awkward silence. Tove nodded and made his way over to Ur who rolled his eyes and yanked his arm away from the warriors who came to poke and prod at it.

The few who weren't interested in Ur's arm wandered amongst the fallen barbarians. Asmund and I walked together, occasionally kicking a few of them to see if they had a reaction- if they did we drove a blade through their necks. There was no point in letting them suffer here if they would suffer more in Helheim.

Asmund turned to the right to inspect a homely looking pile of barbarians- arrows buried in their chests and stomachs painfully deep. I turned opposite of him, walking closer to the edge of Asgard.

A sickly curiosity washed over me and leaned my head in the shattered hole of Asgard and listened.

Shuffling.

Clinking.

Soft murmurs.

A sudden horrid realization washed over me.