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Ragnar gave a snort. "Like Hell!" he said. "I'll need to see for myself what we are up against, and I'm no horse holder."
"This is our land." Ted spoke up.
"And I'm not one of your people." Ragnar tapped the steel topspike of his axe on Emiel's chest. "And I'm supposed to be keeping you safe."
"Well I'm not watching the damn horses." said Ted petulantly.
* * *
The three had dropped to hands and knees as they neared the once abandoned freehold. They lowered themselves to their stomachs when they passed the timbers of the flattened rail fence which had surrounded the yard, encircling the house and barn.
From where they lay, the front and side of the house were visible. A stone chimney ran up the side of the house, firelight winked from between mortarless stones as well as from splits in the shutter of a nearby window.
The fog had begun to lift and the light appeared as through a dim haze and made the details of the house indistinct. They would have to move closer.
Halfway to the house, the collapsed and rotting boards of a wagon, overturned during the hasty flight of the freeholders, provided questionable cover from any watching eyes, but the three of them settled themselves behind it as best they could and kept a watch of their own. The smoke of the fire appeared as a thicker haze among the thinning fog, rising from the darker blot of the chimney. The smell of the roasting meat was overpowering. It rose and spread not only from the chimney, but from between the loose boards of the house itself. Ragnar involuntarily licked his lips and his stomach growled in answer.
"Shhh.." Emiel hissed from beside him.
The sudden scream from the house made all three of them flinch.
The sound was a long, drawn-out wail of pain and despair which went on and on, then ended abruptly. Then came a barking laugh from several voices. Then silence.
"They do not sound friendly." Ted spoke in a whisper.
"Well," asked Ragnar, "are we going to lie out here all night"
"Shh.." Emiel said again, and gestured for them to remain quiet. Then looking at the pair he turned his head away from the house and snapped, "We wait."
Ragnar would have liked to protest. He could not stand inaction though he recognized the need for patience before battle, waiting for the right time to attack.
He did not have to wait long.
The house remained quiet only a short while, then a literal roar of anger exploded from inside. There was a loudly barked reply, then another roar and a chorus of highly pitched screeching.
The wall of the house gave a shudder, something large and heavy had slammed against it from the inside. Then a cacophony of screams, roars of anger and pain, the crunch of wood being splintered, the sharp clank of metal on metal and the ring of weapons clashing.
The howl of some enraged beast escaped the house and the front door was flung open. The light of the fire outlined the doorway, an orangish square along the black oblong of the house. Then a sack-like bundle flew through the door and landed on the stairs leading up to the porch. It rolled, and as it did so, outflung limbs flailed about but could not stop its course. When the body came to rest it lay in a motionless heap, once again a dark featureless sack but of bones and flesh.
The screams, clashes and shouts had not abated, but two tall and lanky figures blocked the light from the door as they rushed outside. There was a brief tangle as both attempted to push through the doorway first, but one used a long arm to shove the other back then stumbled out onto the porch. The unobstructed light from the doorway illuminated the stumbling figure. Tall, painfully thin, covered in a spikey matted fur, standing on its feet like a man but with the muzzle and fanged mouth of some feral canine.
"Gnolls!" Ragnar said as he would say a curse. Clutching his axe he began to rise from his crouch but Emiel put a surprisingly strong hand on his shoulder. The wave of red anger which had clouded his eyes had passed and he kept himself still, holding the berserk rage back while watching what transpired.
The first gnoll had steadied itself and was jumping from the porch to the ground disdaining the stairs. The second gnoll had regained its feet and was out the door when a thick line of darkness came across the opening from inside and connected with the back of its head. There was a sound like a melon being dropped from a wagon and the gnoll's body somersaulted forward. It landed on its back, its padded and hairy feet pointing toward the three watchers, its body convulsing.
The light from the doorway was suddenly obscured completely as if the fire had been extinguished, like a candleflame between finger and thumb. Something moved through the door, contorting to force its bulk through the human-sized gap. As it edged its way forward, the gnoll jumped to the ground and landed but badly.
The ground had frozen with the setting of the sun, but it was a wet and misty night. Padded feet had met the slick, hard ground and found no purchase. The gnoll fell painfully on its side. It tried to push itself from the ground, but one arm seemed not to work.
As the brutish shape separated itself from the doorway and walked out onto the porch, its head reaching the roof, but no neck and a huge barrel of a body, the gnoll whined in fear but managed to rise.
The steps of the porch collapsed beneath the ponderous weight of the ogre, but the creature seemed unphased. The gnoll simply stood there watching. Its one arm dangling uselessly. It whined like an injured hound struck by a passing wagon, awaiting the coming of death.
The ogre laughed an ugly bark of a laugh. It stood within arms reach of the whining gnoll and reached out with a huge club, the end wrapped in thick bands of iron forming a crude mace. Touching the head of the mace to the gnoll's chest the ogre gave a slight push and the gnoll swayed on its feet. The whine had ceased but the gnoll's body shook with uncontrolled fear.
Once again there came that ugly laugh, then the ogre brought the mace up above his shoulder and prepared to strike the gnoll like a farmer driving a rail into the ground with a hammer.
Its was then that the rage took control of Ragnar.
"Yaarrrggghhh!" he roared and in a single smooth movement sprang to his feet and launched himself toward the ogre.
"Ragnar!" Emiel cried out.
"You idiot!" Ted joined in.
* * *
(To Be Continued)