Fearless Warrior: Isaacson Trilogy Book Two

17

Not even a full hour passed before the first notes of danger drifted to them. A flurry of birds left their warm perches within the treetops, the first sign things were not as they should be. The air grew unnaturally still, as though the mountain itself held its breath in anticipation of the destruction about to be unleashed.

The hairs on Esmund's neck and arms rose in warning seconds before he picked up the faint click of someone cocking a rifle at least seventy yards behind them. He kicked Barnaby into a faster pace and curled around Elsie, using his body as a shield against the bullet that soon whistled through the air dangerously close to his left ear.

Hoofbeats sounded as loud as thunder behind them, growing increasingly louder until Father's animalistic roar cut them off. Gunnar's soon joined father's, followed by a bloodcurdling scream. There was no question as to whether Gunnar and father had berserked; the problem lay in whether or not Esmund and Ulric should rush to their aid or wait.

Ulric decided for them. "You two stay here with the women; I'll ensure they're not in danger."

Esmund and Nora nodded their agreement and reined to a stop.

"Do you think it was the McCreedy's?" Elsie silently asked.

"I don't know."

His answer seemed to satisfy her before her next question rang through his mind.

"What do we do if it wasn't?"

He looked down at her upturned face and gave her a reassuring smile, "You do not need to worry. I promise to keep you safe."

She shook her head, "It's not myself I'm worried about, but your family."

Esmund fiddled with the reins and looked away. It was touching she would be concerned for his father and Gunnar, whom she barely knew. Emotion tightened his throat and made speaking difficult, so he thought instead, "Ulric will be back any minute."

However, time dragged on well past the length it should have taken for Ulric or the others to return. Elsie shifted in the saddle as she tried to peer around Esmund's shoulder, but he gently tucked her back against the cover his body provided.

"Shouldn't he be back by now?"

Esmund purposefully kept his mind blank, a feat in itself since every nerve in his body screamed for him to race to his family's aid. Something was wrong. He could feel it as surely as he felt the weighty object slam into the back of his head in the next breath.

Blood ran down his back and soaked his shirt, but before he was able to turn and catch a glimpse of his attacker, another heavy object crashed against his skull, causing him to slump forward.

His body grew sluggish and failed to respond to his commands to move. Elsie screamed and struggled to keep him in the saddle, but she couldn't support his full weight for longer than a minute.

Screams filled the air around him as he fell. The snow-covered ground rose to meet him and welcomed him into its cold embrace so hard he bit his tongue and drew blood. Air refused to fill his lungs, no matter how desperately he tried to gasp in a breath.

The last thing he saw before the world went black was Elsie's terrified, tear-streaked face pleading for him not to die as she pressed a berry between his lips.

The bitter tang of baneberry juice burned its way down Esmund's throat. Muscles bulged and grew as the full effect of the berry took hold and unleashed his Berserker. His head wound healed, and his senses sharpened.

When he opened his eyes, the colors of his surroundings muted to varying shades of gray—all except for a short figure standing in the shadow of the forest, glowing as though consumed by white-hot flames.