Runebinder

One: Crimson Falling-2

“Hakon!” The boy jumped back in a panic at the sound and fell into the snow dropping his bow and arrow. Without looking up he scrambled for his meager weapon when a friendly shadow emerged. His father stood over him with Knut standing just behind. “What did you do?” His father questioned sternly. Hakon shook his head frantically from side to side.

“Nothing, Father. I swear it,” he squealed. “I heard a scream after I lost you in the wood. I found Hund just laying here.” Tunn came running out from the bushes and rushed to his furry companion. He licked Hund's face several times perhaps to rouse him from his eternal rest but his once playful brother did not rise. Pulling back from his fallen comrade's face, he stepped towards the wounds and sniffed them deeply. Suddenly the hound became frightened and Tunn backed up quickly, whimpering like a coward with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. He began to cough and wheeze until a sickness came over him and he vomited against the snow. Eirik was perplexed as he had never seen his dog act in such a manner. Tunn most of all was an accomplished tracker and hunter; what would cause him such sickness?

“What in the gods is wrong with him?” Knut asked, but Eirik did not reply. He just stood there and then looked about the forest floor. “Father? What is it?”

“I don't know,” replied Eirik. He knelt next to his hound and carefully pulled back the torn ragged fur from the wound exposing the awful sight. “By the gods!” he exclaimed. “I've never seen anything like it.”

“Was it a wolf or a bear?” Knut asked. His father shook his head slowly.

“No, son. No. Take a look for yourself.” Eirik put down his bow and pointed with his hand while he held the mangled and bloodied fur up from the beast's flesh. “Have you ever seen a wolf or a bear do this? Have you ever seen anything do this?” Hund's innards were gone; the stomach, the heart, the guts, the liver, not even a trace of them, gone. The dog was no more than an empty husk with all the meat and skin left behind to freeze and harden in the icy air.

“Why waste good meat? What kind of animal would do such a thing?” Hakon asked nervously.

“I do not know.” Eirik put the fur down with a disgusted look and brushed his hand along Hund's snout caressing his fallen friend. “Poor little beast. How many screams did you hear? Did it sound like a fight? Was there a struggle?” The boy Hakon shook his head tensely.

“No, Father. The wind began to blow and I heard a scream. A terrible one, and then, nothing.” Eirik quickly stood to his feet gazing at the ground all around his sons and then lifted his head upward scanning between the trees and the horizon. His face was stern now, hard as a stone. What little softness Eirik High-Stone had for his fallen hound he now concealed beneath a rough exterior.

“No tracks…” he murmured. “Not a single damn track anywhere. How could there be no tracks?” Knut stepped forward and investigated all around as his father had.

“How could there be no tracks? That's impossible. Father? Everything leaves a track. Does it not?” Eirik had been an accomplished hunter all his life. Even Knut had successfully tracked and killed every kind of large beast that wandered these woods, but neither could explain what they had seen this day. Hakon's heart beat faster as worry washed over him again, his teeth clenched, his throat tightened and joints began to ache. For the first time in a long time the hunters of his family were nervous. Never in all his life had they shown an ounce of fear; now they were rank with it. Eirik's heart became cold and he knew within his heart that the hunters, were now the hunted. “Father? What shall we do?” Knut pressed anxiously for an answer.

“Steady, boys.” Eirik said, gritting his teeth together. “Knut, get Hund up on your shoulders and carry him home, he deserves a proper burial. Hakon, you lead the way. Take it nice and slow. I will watch our backs.” Their father's directions made them wary of what may still be out there, of what may still be watching, lurking in the shadows.

“What is it, Father? Please, tell us,” asked Hakon. Eirik continued to gaze about the wood but there was nothing there to tell him of the creature that occupied the forest this day. No tracks, no ruts or tears at the bark in the trees, no broken branches. It was as if a ghost or spirit had killed his dog, eaten its insides and merely vanished into thin air never to be seen again.

“Come on, boys. Get to it. We need to get back to the village. Slowly and quietly now.” Knut did as he was commanded and lifted the emptied husk of Hund while Tunn circled impatiently around him. The beast's body fell lightly on Knut's broad shoulders. Hakon made ready his arrow once more and gradually trudged forward through the snow. Though they did their best to remain quiet, the frost would betray their every movement. With each step, the ice crunched and cracked beneath foot. Eirik kept a wary eye to the rear watching every twig, branch, and leaf within sight. The hovel was not far but to the boy Hakon, each carefully planned step seemed like an eternity in the creeping shadows of the forest. His mind began to race with thoughts of towering Jotunn; massive giants so large that their legs looked like tree trunks as the rest of their body hid amongst the dense foliage above. Or perhaps it was a terrifying dragon that had swooped down from the sky, lifted their hound into the air with spear like claws and devoured his guts before throwing the dog's bloodless carcass back down to the ground.

“Hurry up, Hakon,” Knut urged, annoyed. “At this pace, it'll take us all of Sol's journey to get home.”

“Quiet yourself, son!” Eirik replied fiercely. “Stop here, take a knee.” Without hesitation, the boys dropped down in the snow with their father. Hakon turned his head back towards Eirik.

“What do you see, Father?” Knut gazed at his father briefly but kept a wary eye elsewhere fearing what my sneak up on them.

“Shut your mouths. Keep your eyes forward,” he ordered, voice low. “We are not alone…”

“What do you mean?” Knut asked. Eirik was slow to give any answer for the thing he knew to be true would ice the heart of the boys and perhaps rob them of their courage. However, he thought twice of it and now felt it best to let them know what he felt deep in his bones.

“Boys, I want you to stay calm. No matter what happens, keep your wits about you. Do you understand?”

“Father?” Hakon asked nervously.

“We are being hunted…” Knut's face became hard and angry as he slowly lifted his head and gazed at his surroundings. With Hund on his shoulders he was blind to his sides and felt vulnerable as if a beast would flank him without a moment's notice. Hakon raised his bow and nervously aimed his iron tipped arrow in all directions.

“Steady yourself, boy,” Eirik commanded of his youngest born. “You may only get one shot.”

“What is it?” Hakon's mind continued to race as his heart beat relentlessly in his chest. If only he could know what predator they faced, then perhaps he could muster the courage to steel his nerves and take on the foe head on. The unknown was frightening to Hakon, more frightening than a pack of wolves or even a Jotunn.

“I don't know. I can't see anything, but I know it's there. I can feel it in my bones. The winds are fowl with death and decay, the trees shudder in fear. Not even the birds bathe in the light of Sol. Can you not hear the silence? Can you not feel the unnatural stillness?” A rush of air passed above Eirik from his right to left shoulder. He strained his eyes to the tree tops above and yet saw nothing but the canopy and the cracks between them. Whiffs of snow fell lightly from limbs above that had been disturbed. Up and down each trunk Eirik gazed with the focus of a hawk and still, he saw nothing. Sweat began to trickle down between the hairs of his beard and fear slowly crept into his every bone and muscle.

“Where is it?” Knut whispered.

“Run,” Eirik said quietly.

“What?” asked Hakon in disbelief.

“Run!” Eirik leapt forward and pushed Knut ahead. Hakon lowered his bow and made a break for it between the trees and through the ice dusted ferns fast as a snow hare. As they sprinted ahead an ominous sound grew to the rear ever so closely behind them. It was not that of wolf or bear racing through the sleet. It was something different entirely, something not of the woods, something unnatural. As if the air itself was chasing them from behind. The sound began as a faint echo and then grew to a sharp whistle that pierced the ears as they ran with all their might.

Ahead, a brightly lit clearing showed itself, and a familiar sight of small cottages greeted their fear-stricken eyes. “Go, keep running!” Eirik fearfully urged. Hakon heard a branch snap behind him and looked back to see his brother Knut laying face first in the mud. Without hesitation he turned to aid his brother. “No!” protested Eirik. “Keep running, son. I'll help him.” Eirik lifted his son to his feet and Knut bent down to pick up Hund. “No, leave him!” The whistle grew louder and louder, cracking tree limbs and tearing at bark. Leaves, branches and dirt flew upward from behind and the whole forest sounded as if it was about to come crashing down on them. Hakon made it to the clearing just outside their village and turned raising his bow with trembling arms.

“Father!” the boy cried out. Eirik and Knut had fallen back some ways. Knut injured his leg and limped ahead as his father pulled him forward. The whistle grew to a roar, like the sound of a heavy rain from a thunderstorm falling furiously atop sacrificial stones. Eirik yelled towards Hakon but the boy heard nothing, only the howl, only the noise in the void. At last they reached the clearing and turned standing next to the boy with his arrow drawn. Knut fell heavy to the ground writhing in pain but his cries were drowned out entirely. Eirik raised his hunting bow next to Hakon's and quickly drew the full weight.

“Loose!” his father commanded. Eirik and Hakon released their bow strings and two iron-tipped arrows flew into the void of the forest. The noise and wind rose up as a wall of leaves, snow, and dirt rushing towards them with an angry howl. The trio closed their eyes and turned their heads away as they braced for the deafening sound to overcome them. Suddenly the chaos pressed hard against the edge of the clearing and rushed violently upward into the sky. The noise faded from a roar to a whistle, to a howl, and then to nothing; complete silence. Moments later a flock of ravens in the tree tops cried loudly and their black masses flew high into the sky and away from the forest towards the jagged mountains in the distance. Hakon took several steps behind his father and Knut fearing the noise would return to somehow do unto them as it had done to Hund. Tunn was standing even further behind the men and barked furiously at the dark woods. “Get up,” Eirik commanded of Knut. His son stood and with the help of his father began to hobble back to the village.