Book 7. Chapter 17: Force multiplier
Elderly Odin could easily die from a strike that would only annoy a younger Odin. Roark had been skilled enough to disable the old Odin commander without killing him, but it still required him and his team to methodically beat down all of Yill's command staff, so that he could precisely incapacitate Yill himself without distractions that would risk the old raven's life.
It had been a mess. Blood and feathers lay just about everywhere inside the command center, along with a few wounded of his own soldiers tending to their broken bones. But they'd pulled it off without anyone outside the tower noticing.
“The success chance of this is near zero.” Yill spoke, nets keeping the old commander tied down. “You are a fool Roark, and you’ve been sent here for nothing.”
“I was sent here to serve my people, same as you were.” Roark's beak clicked, answering without much emotion. He didn’t hate Yill, rather the contrary. But both Odin here knew that Roark was the council’s right hand wing, sent to balance out any potential insurgency. That was the deal struck between the Víkingr and the council for this outpost to remain free as Septimus needed it to.
And when the time came, no amount of friendship or respect between him and his commander would prevent him from following through on his orders.
The Gungnir were specifically trained to fight other Odin, they knew the art of bone-snapping with all thirteen different weapons their ranks used. But Hersir were Hersir, and of all the Hersir active in Odin lands, the deadlanders were known to be the most insane of all. They’d fought in this tower like feral animals, and continued to fight long past the point they should have simply surrendered. Most were unconscious now, tightly bound near their commander.
Yill hadn’t been a fool. The moment Roark had returned after a private conference with the high council, the commander seemed to just know the time had come, and ordered his soldiers to attack before Roark could utter the same order. Yill even had a team dispatched to the power cells already, caught mid-attempt to smuggle them out of Roark’s hands in advance.
But deadland soldiers were trained to handle explosives and heavy machinery. They were military specialized against the infestation. Gungnir were military specialized in beating down rogue Odin. Even with a surprise attack, the result was never in doubt.
“How long do we have?” Roark asked his second in command.