In the morning, they bathed in the temple's rudimentary facilities, but ate from their own stores, as breakfast was not offered. With some cajoling, Otto convinced a priest to give them a narrow cart for some silver. The priests did not usually buy or sell, but the price Otto offered was very generous̶—because without the cart, Otto knew they would have to leave most of their supplies behind. The fine saddlebags of the reindeer were, with more silver thrown in for good measure, exchanged for more easily carried sacks and shoulder-bags.
The sacrifice of the reindeer was a heavy occasion, but Otto stood impassively with his warriors through it, all of them, even Cori, maintaining a brave face. It was a small mercy that the sacrifice itself was performed by the priests. They had all seen reindeer slaughtered before, though never with such ritual and in such a strange place. When it came to Leif's turn on the altar, Otto forced himself to watch, and regretted it.
More unsettling was the presence of the dogs for all of it, circling around Sigrid as he knelt on his dire fox pelt below the altar. Like Bitty, the other hounds seemed unnaturally drawn to him, and as he chanted prayers, they sat obediently, even as the reindeer screamed and their blood splattered beyond the altar to mist some of the hounds below.
Once all the reindeer had been led in one by one to have their throats cut on the altar, Sigrid said a final round of prayers and turned. He ran his hand across the bloody altar and then flicked drops of blood at the hounds. They broke their silence at once, baying and leaping to their feet.
"The price is paid, and the hounds have the scent of Ursa Magnus not only in their noses but deep within their hearts," said Sigrid. "Go forth and slay the beast, Noll's eye be upon you."
*~*~*
After going down the winding path, the hounds pointed north. They were as eager as Otto had ever seen them, filled with a vigor he'd only witnessed when they were hot on the heels of a beast, close to taking it down. As they traveled, walking briskly to keep up with the impatient dogs and taking turns pulling the cart, Otto worried the hounds might outrun them. But as the day wore on, trekking along the edge of the mountain and towards the next, it was clear that while they were impatient, the hounds' loyalty to their humans had not wavered; they never got far ahead of the group.
"Do you think the agreement with Noll would prevent us from buying new reindeer?" Peder asked as they slowed to ready camp for the night. His tone was only partially joking.
"Even if it doesn’t, we don't have enough gold to buy mounts for all of us," Otto said. As serious or not as Peder may have been, it was better to squash the idea now. Doubtless as their feet grew blistered and their backs weary, more of the group would wonder the same. "And even if we did, we'd have to come across a burg willing to sell us reindeer."
They found a good space to rest near a copse of ash trees, and though it was not late in the evening, Otto judged it better to not push the group too hard. As they settled down, making camp and preparing supper, Otto's anticipation grew even as he went through all the usual motions. It doubled when Lukas offered to take first watch, though he caught Petra casting Britta a knowing smirk. Otto made no response; no budding romance stayed a secret for long, especially when out on the hunt. As long as Otto kept his head and didn't show favoritism, there was no harm to it.
Unless, of course, someone was jealous. As they ate, Rolf made a point of sitting near Otto, talking to him loudly, and it occurred to Otto that that might explain Rolf's crossness. But Otto didn't fret with jealousy; if Lukas had had any affection for Rolf, it would have come out before now. And still, Rolf left Lukas alone after supper, finishing his tasks and heading to his bedroll.
Otto helped Lukas with the fire as the others went to bed. The hounds circled the edges of the camp protectively, and while some curled in upon themselves to drift off, others seemed to find no rest. Petra winked at Otto as she passed him on her way by, and he couldn't help but smile back. She had known Rasmus, and what he had meant to Otto. If she was pleased for Otto to find companionship again, he couldn't be choosing too poorly; he knew she wanted him to find someone worthy.
Wordlessly, once all the others were at rest, everything tended, Otto and Lukas settled down close together, near the welcoming heat of the fire. Otto made the first move, placing an arm around Lukas's shoulders and bringing him in closer. Lukas turned in toward him, one hand gripping Otto's shoulder. His other hand he placed on Otto's knee, triggering a spark of arousal. The warmth of the summer night, of the fire itself, were nothing compared to the desire that burned within him.
They'd bared themselves emotionally, and now, Otto didn't want to wait any longer to make it physical. He wanted to see Lukas naked again, but not in the chaste environment of the sauna. Otto wanted to strip Lukas naked right here, to run his hands along every inch of tight muscle and skin, to consummate the passion that had been building within him since they had first met. He'd felt so bare under Lukas's gaze, stripped of pretense and posturing by Lukas's straightforward words, that it only seemed right to bare their bodies as well now.
But for the moment, they gazed at each other, hands squeezing flesh and muscles, slowly moving in closer. Otto could smell the spicy masculine scent of Lukas tinged with the remnants of clean soap, could appreciate up close his sharp and defined brow, his immaculately trimmed beard, the faint scar trailing out from under it. The tension in the air hung heavy, as if neither of them wanted to break the closeness of this moment, breathing in the other's presence, feeling each other's warmth, finally looking at each other with their misconceptions and wonderings cast aside.
Lukas leaned forward, collapsing the gap that remained between them, and kissed Otto. Desire shot through Otto's body as he hungrily accepted Lukas's lips, not a light peck but a needy, consuming thing. Otto grabbed the back of Lukas's head, twining his fingers into Lukas's soft hair and keeping him close.
Lukas's hand slid up Otto's thigh, and Otto probed Lukas's mouth with his tongue. Lukas pushed back with his own tongue, slick heat as they kissed messily, their tongues touching and twining like some dance of battle, seeking ever more but finding themselves evenly matched. Otto's other hand slid from Lukas's shoulder to his side, along the rough cloth of his tunic and down to his hip to clutch him right above his belt.
Their kiss fought on, hands roaming over each other's bodies, but neither yet moving to disrobe the other. It was after long minutes that Lukas pulled his lips away, breathing heavily.
"Even with Noll's blessing, I have no illusions about the difficulty of our quest," Lukas said. "One or both of us may not make it back to Thunderhill."
"I know," Otto replied. If Ursa Magnus was slain, that was ultimately what mattered, but even if it could be done, it would likely come at the price of many of their lives. "What better reason to take the opportunity we do have to live to the fullest? If we die, may it be with no regrets."
Lukas smirked. "And what about my duty to watch?"
"We'll certainly be keeping ourselves awake this way," Otto replied with a grin. "And some of the hounds are still patrolling. If there's trouble, we'll pull up our trousers and be ready to rouse the others in no time."
Lukas needed no more convincing. He dove back into the kiss, enveloping Otto's mouth with his own while grasping at the fastenings of Otto's armor. They pulled at each other's shirt laces until they reluctantly relinquished their kiss to more quickly undress. Once they were both stripped down to trousers and boots alone, Otto stepped away to pull Lukas's nearby bedroll closer. He unrolled it as Lukas pulled off his boots and socks, then sat upon one end of it to take off his own footwear.
Otto had nearly forgotten the excitement of passion outside at night, coupling under the midnight sun. There was a small voyeuristic thrill to it as well. Some amount of discretion was expected; more than once Otto had been in a party with young warriors who in their lust thought they could begin groping each other while others were still eating dinner or talking around the fire, and had been met with jeers and empty drinking horns thrown at them. But once most were settled in their bedrolls, the only unspoken rule was to not make so much noise that they would disrupt the others' sleep. And given how loud some of their companions snored, that would require a great bit of noise.
Now down to only trousers, Otto felt silly. What else was he waiting for? He stripped off his trousers and undergarments, and Lukas did likewise. Once all their utterly unnecessary clothes were discarded, Otto took hold of Lukas and pushed him down against the bedroll. He'd wanted to admire Lukas's body, but more than that, he wanted to feel Lukas's naked form against his own. Lukas kissed him fiercely, pressing his body against Otto's.
Propping himself up on his elbows, Otto rutted against Lukas, the hot stiffness of Lukas's cock rubbing against his own. Lukas dug his nails into Otto's shoulder as he gave a stifled moan, bucking his hips up in an attempt to get more friction. Otto moved his kisses down to Lukas's jaw, down past the edge of his beard to nibble at his neck. Lukas's noises grew louder, and Otto's cock felt hard as stone. Lukas had been so stoic, so unreachable, for so long, and now that his layers were parting like a blossoming flower in the morning, Otto couldn't get enough of it.
Otto shifted back up, prying Lukas's hand away from his shoulder and fending off Lukas's attempts to keep their tight embrace. Lukas's efforts stopped as soon as Otto slid down the bedroll, and Lukas let out a desperate groan when Otto pressed his lips to Lukas's cock.
Otto opened his mouth and took the head of the cock into his mouth. Lukas was long and rigid, slightly curved, and not too thick. Otto slid his lips down farther, taking in Lukas's masculine scent and tasting the saltiness of his skin. Lukas rocked his hips gently, desperate for as much stimulation as possible, as Otto bobbed his head up and down. Though out of practice, Otto swallowed Lukas to the hilt, pulling back and taking him in again, over and over. The heady rush of Lukas's taste and scent, Lukas's lustful noises, the culmination of desire that had been building for weeks, was enough that Otto's own cock ached desperately, his arousal almost too much to take.
Lukas, too, seemed to be relishing in the release of pent-up longing, raising his hips again and again, more and more wildly. Otto nearly gagged, and pressed a hand against his hip to hold him steady. Otto lapped at the head of Lukas's cock as he continued, speeding up his motions to match the desperation with which Lukas had bucked up against him, until Lukas shuddered, his cock twitching, and spilled his seed into Otto's mouth.
Lukas rested for a moment as Otto moved back up to lie beside him, on his side. As Lukas's breathing evened again, Lukas shifted and pulled Otto into the center of the bedroll. Lukas moved down, taking his time in a way Otto hadn't, running his hands along Otto's chest, his belly, down the sides of his hips. Otto grunted impatiently, and Lukas assented, positioning himself over Otto's legs and leaning down to suck on his cock.
Otto couldn't help but groan with pleasure. Lukas moved skillfully and quickly with his tongue and mouth, and it took little time at all before Otto was brought to the brink and, clutching at Lukas's hair, looking down at his handsome new lover, climaxed.
In his drowsiness, Otto contemplated staying right there until morning. But Lukas was already rising and collecting his clothes. Even if Otto wanted to collapse, Lukas still had the rest of his watch to finish. So Otto too reluctantly dressed himself, and headed to his own bedroll. Neither said anything, but when Otto turned to go, Lukas pulled him in for one last, quick kiss, before letting him go get his rest.
*~*~*
Days passed with blisters and spirits alike worsening. Though none dared to say it, Otto could tell there was some doubt as to the accuracy of the hounds' new scent trail. They came across no signs of Ursa, and neither the village nor the camp of nomads they passed reported sightings.
But they had come this far, and though Elov complained about his aching feet, Peder complained about his turns pulling the cart, and Rolf complained about everything, the party kept on steadily. The weather, at least, favored them, with a spell of dry, temperate breezes and intermittent cloud cover that only once broke into a short-lasting rain. They kept along near the edge of the mountain range, where vegetation was hearty yet wildlife was relatively sparse. The archers hunted well as they could, rabbit most nights and deer on one luckier occasion, but their supplies of suet cake and jerky were running low.
Otto began to feel the edge of exhaustion creeping into his days as he put off going to sleep each night to spend time with Lukas. Neither had much energy for long conversations, but Otto was still intoxicated from the heady rush of lust, and so each night he or Lukas would take first watch and spend it naked together.
On the fifth day, just as Otto himself was beginning to wonder if they would ever catch up with Ursa Magnus, they saw another village in the distance, the edges of its walls visible and part of it obscured by the mountain, right in the direction the dogs were leading them. As they approached, the hounds grew more eager, and as evening turned to night, they would not settle but instead howled. Viggo attempted to calm them, but though he stopped their baying, they stalked and sprinted restlessly around camp, watching the village in the distance.
Otto slept poorly, too aware of the hounds pacing and feeling too tired to rest well. He woke on his own in the early dawn, feeling like he hadn't slept much at all. He lay for a few minutes, trying to halfheartedly to fall back asleep. A nudge at his shoulder made him open up his eyes; Bitty was nosing at him. When he sat up, she ran to the edge of camp, looking down at the village. From here, Otto couldn't see much as he rose, but later as everyone else was rising and dressing, he caught sight of some winged creature in the distance swooping up from the village—too large to be any mundane bird.
As they rounded the curve of the mountain and could better see the village, Otto's stomach sank. There were clearly damaged buildings, and no sign of people working in the fields. Even before they reached the village, the aura of death hung heavy in the air. Much of the village's weak walls, barely high enough to deter normal-sized bears and wolves, had been trampled. The air stank of death, livestock and human alike.
The hounds were growing agitated, and Otto growing more apprehensive. He had no doubt this was the work of Ursa Magnus.
"Poor souls," Cori murmured as they began to pass through the outlying fields. The sun was shining down on them cheerily despite the ugliness they knew awaited them. The rye was golden and rapeseed resplendent with its yellow blossoms, harvest-ready, and yet the fields were eerily empty of any harvesters.
"The attack must've come at night," Lukas said. "There are no bodies in the fields, nothing on the edges of town that we can see."
"Even with someone on watch, they would've stood no chance," said Viggo grimly. "At least during the day, some might've fled on their reindeer."
"Some may still have escaped," Cori said, but there was little hope in her voice.
As they walked around the perimeter of the town, their hopes continued to sink. The gate was still closed, suggesting none had tried, much less managed, to flee. Creepy cawing from inside confirmed Otto's suspicion of carrion-eaters. He pulled out his weapon, all the better to be ready to meet them, and the others followed suit.
"Foolish villagers, trying to fight a great monster," Rolf said disdainfully as they walked back from the gate toward the breach in the wall. Cori looked sick, and Kennet threw Rolf a cold look.
"They've already paid for any such foolishness with their lives," said Lukas. "And you of all people should think that standing to fight against the odds is the brave thing to do."
"I'll hear no ill words spoken against those slaughtered by this monster," Otto said firmly. "We will search for survivors and provisions, without pointless speculation about their exact circumstances, and be gone from this place before evening."
They climbed over the broken, pitiful palisade and into the grisly scene. Rotting flesh assaulted Otto's nose, and inhuman screams broke out a little distance away, a squabble between the carrion-eaters. The party hung behind the nearest house, assessing the surroundings and trying to avoid the monsters' attention as long as possible. There were bloody remnants of bodies down toward the gate, possibly reindeer as well as human, though they were so mangled it was hard to tell. The village itself looked relatively new judging by the state of the construction and its small size, but little of it was unscathed. Particularly unsettling were the caved-in thatch roofs, as if Ursa had reached inside.
"The carrion-eaters won't leave us in peace if we tread too close," Otto said. "And it sounds like there's at least a few of them, possibly a whole flock. Before we search the village, we need to deal with them. Peder, Viggo, and Kennet, come with me and the hounds, we'll go around from the left. Lukas, Rolf, and Hertha, go around from the right, by the gate. Britta and Petra, follow but hang back, ready to fire on any who start to fly at us. Same for you Elov. Cori, keep close to Britta and Petra."
The carrion-eaters had flocked by the town stables, more bones than meat left on the remains of at least a dozen bodies. There were six carrion-eaters, two of which had been sparring each other with their talons over a larger carcass—a reindeer. All their beady eyes turned to Otto and his companions as they approached, their spat forgotten. Bitty growled, and the hounds' hackles rose as they stalked toward the monsters. Otto saw Lukas, Rolf, and Hertha moving in quietly from the other direction, so he did his best to keep the carrion-eaters' attention.
"Begone, foul creatures!" Otto cried, holding his sword up defensively as he approached.
The nearest carrion-eater screamed and flapped her wings at them menacingly, a clear message of leave my food alone. The others followed suit in a cacophony of cries. Otto slowed his pace but didn't stop, keeping the carrion-eaters' attention as the other two teams came in closer, their footsteps unheard over the carrion-eaters' noise.
"Fight me or flee!" Otto cried.
Despite the sad state of their feast, the carrion-eaters were loath to give up the dregs, and with only four humans and some dogs in sight, they refused to yield. The nearest carrion-eater launched herself toward the men, the others jeering in excitement.
Otto was ready, meeting the creature's talons with his sword before she could claw his face. Peder and Viggo closed in from either side, with Viggo catching the creature's right wing with his sword before she could fly further upward. The hounds rushed at the other carrion-eaters, leaping over corpses and driving the squawking beasts into flight, as the archers began to fire and Lukas, Rolf, and Hertha rushed into the fray.
The resulting battle was quick and bloody. Within minutes, three of the carrion-eaters fell to arrow, sword, and ax, one to the dogs after her wing was injured, and the other two fled while they still could. Hertha fell to an ugly eye injury, her helmet knocked askew.
Cori treated Hertha's eye and the other scratches while Otto led the search through the village. Of the three cellars in the village, two were empty, and the entrance around the third had been partially collapsed, marred by giant scratches in the dirt where Ursa had tried to dig in. Judging by the streaks of blood on the cellar floor, he had succeeded.
Everyone was grim as they swept the largely ruined stores for anything useful. There wasn’t much: a clutch of arrows, a pouch of dried venison, a slab of suet. Most of what remained unspoiled wasn't useful for being on the road, like heavy sacks of grain. Otto felt unclean, sorting through the belongings of the dead, but there was nothing to be done. He said a silent prayer when they left the village, wanting to put some distance between themselves and the carnage before stopping for the night.
May their souls rest in honor.
*~*~*
After leaving the village, even the hounds seemed uneasy. Instead of leading the party farther north, as Otto expected, they veered sharply toward the nearby mountain. Past some rocky outcroppings, the group came across a hot spring, and though it was still early evening, Otto elected to stop there for the night. The spring was a welcome chance to rid themselves of the grimy feeling inevitable with being on the road and much worsened by the village encounter.
Half the group took a dip in the spring while the other half began setting up camp. Otto surveyed the area around camp along the side of the mountain, Lukas walking along the flowering grass fields on the other side. Otto picked a patch of sorrel he came across, and Lukas returned with wild onions. The cooking would be up to the first group, as the others took their turn in the spring.
"We're getting close to Ursa Magnus," Lukas said, breaking the companionable silence as they soaked in the hot water.
"What makes you say that?" Britta asked.
Lukas shrugged, looking over toward the mountain. "I just have a sense," he replied. "The dogs have been getting more worked up, leading us toward this mountain. The carrion-eaters aren't far behind Ursa, and they clean up pretty quickly. I don't think the village was more than two days dead, at most."
"So Ursa's likely in this very mountain," said Otto.
"I'm not a betting man, but if I were…"
"If Ursa Magnus is deep in his cave, how are we supposed to slay him?" Elov asked. "He'll be on his home turf, and we don't even have torches."
"That's why we brought you along, isn't it?" Otto said, grinning at the dour Elov. "We can fashion some rudimentary torches out of supplies around here, and you can provide us with our main beacon of light. As for home turf advantage, if he's staying this close to his home, that bodes well as to his state. He'd still be rampaging across half of Tegland if he felt at his best. Instead he's going after smaller settlements."
"For all we know, he might've massacred Frostwood," said Elov, referring to the burg settled near the upper Obsidian Mountains.
"Nothing we can do about that, either way," said Petra. "Onward it is."
"If Ursa doesn't eat us in our sleep," Elov muttered.
"If your faith in us is so weak, you're welcome to walk back to Thunderhill," Otto said, his smile not wavering.
Elov, to his credit, said no more.