The Hammer of Thor

  80AD

  The Hammer of Thor

  by Aiki Flinthart

  Amazon Edition

  Copyright Aiki Flinthart 2011

  All rights reserved

  Discover other titles by Aiki Flinthart at: http://aikiflinthart.weebly.com/

  Cover Art by : Jason Seabaugh

  Discover 80AD Book One - The Jewel of Asgard - at Amazon.

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  le of Contents

  80AD

  The Hammer of Thor

  LONG BAIYU

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  EPILOGUE

  A taste of things to come…..

  CHAPTER 1

  80AD Level Two

  The Hammer of Thor.

  LONG BAIYU

  Curled in shadow and huddled against pain, Long Baiyu waited. Where once he had waited in fear; without hope or strength; now he had hope, at least. Hope that his meagre efforts had been rewarded; hope that deliverance was on its way; hope that the reign of terror and power held by his nemesis would soon be over.

  Sometimes, however, a little hope can be almost as painful as none at all.

  The door to his cell flew open, crashing against grey stone. Silhouetted there was the man Baiyu least wished to see: his captor; his enemy; his oldest friend, Feng Zhudai. Raising a heavy head, Baiyu blinked in the feeble candlelight. His gaoler knew better than to bring anything brighter.

  “What do you want?” Baiyu’s voice was hoarse from lack of use; his throat dry; lips cracked with cold.

  For several moments Zhudai simply stood in the doorway, his face hidden in shadow. Candlelight gleamed off rich gold embroidery on his silken robes. The sound of his harsh breathing echoed in the cold stone chamber. Finally, he took a hasty step into the room and lifted the candle. His skin was taut with anger, cheeks hollow, dark eyes fiery with glittering intelligence and barely-hidden rage.

  “What have you done?” Anger snapped through his voice, lashing at his prisoner. Baiyu flinched, blinked again but said nothing. Zhudai made a noise of frustration and stepped closer. Hope surged in Baiyu. He gathered his strength. Did he have enough to defeat his enemy and escape? Only let him come a few paces nearer. Even if he died trying, it would be better than this endless imprisonment. Death would ensure the end of his captor’s plans. Zhudai needed him alive.

  That flicker of hope must have shown in his eyes. His keeper stopped and glared at him before backing away again.

  “Oh no, old friend.” He said more calmly. “You won’t trick me that easily. I have just come to tell you that your little scheme will not work.”

  “What scheme is that?” Baiyu tried hard to sound indifferent but disappointment tightened his throat.

  “I felt your pitiful attempt at magic,” Zhudai sneered. “Felt it and tracked it down. You tried to draw help from another realm but you failed. They have been destroyed. You are still my prisoner and you will not escape. In time, you will be the instrument of my success – whether you agree or not.”

  Baiyu fought his own internal battle. His long incarceration had drained much from him. It was too easy to believe his last strength had failed and the help he had sought was not coming. The dark hole of despair beckoned. A small part of him fought back. He had felt their success. His masters’ words returned to him: he who speaks, does not know; he who knows, does not speak. If Zhudai had killed them then he would not have bothered to ask what Baiyu had done; would not have been so enraged. No, they lived.

  Realising this, Baiyu was tempted to gloat; to throw the logic back in his blood brother’s face but that would be stupid. He who knows, does not speak... No, let Zhudai think he had broken his prisoner at last. Let him become careless in his arrogance. Perhaps that would allow the rescuers he had drawn into this world a chance to succeed again…..

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jade opened her eyes to an uneasy world of greys and blacks; of unidentifiable shapes and soft, sighing sounds. She lay on her stomach, awkwardly sprawled on something cold, slippery and hard. Her right knee ached like she’d knocked it and her right hand stung.

  “Hello?” Her voice seemed muffled. Something cold and wet feathered across her cheek. She touched her face with numb fingers and shivered. “Phoenix?” The darkness eased somewhat. Perhaps her eyes were adjusting. Around her patches of light and shadow shifted and swam. It was difficult to tell where the ground ended and the rest of the world began.

  She gathered her feet beneath her and staggered upright. Shaking, she pulled the hood of her cloak up and tucked half-frozen fingers into her armpits to warm them. Her backpack slipped off her shoulder, dragging at her arm. As she took an uncertain step, her foot kicked something long and wooden: her quarterstaff. Snatching it up, she tried to feel more secure.

  Was she alone here? Wherever this was, it certainly wasn’t home. She tried to hold back a rising sense of betrayal. She’d been so certain that finishing Level One would catapult her home again. It hadn’t. This wasn’t her England. In fact, it probably wasn’t England at all.

  A wolf howled: distant; mournful; eerie. Definitely not England. Sharp, fitful breezes stung her eyes. Jade blinked and scrubbed a hand over her face, trying to hold back bitter tears of disappointment. She just wanted to go home.

  For the hundredth time in the last five days, she wished she’d never turned her father’s computer on; never been drawn into this bizarre digital world; wished that she was home again in her warm house with her six annoying sisters. She missed her father; her own, warm, comfortable bed - and hot showers!

  Roaming the 80AD world sounded awesome - when she was watching her avatar on a flat screen from the comfort of her father’s study. Living it was a whole different thing. Her scared thirteen year old mind was trapped inside the digital body and memories of a seventeen year old half-elf in a strange time and place. She’d been nuts to think living the adventures she’d always read about in books would be romantic and exciting. Right now, the most awesome thing she could think of to see would be the giant golden arches of a MacDonalds restaurant - or her very own bathroom.

  The ground crunched as she stamped her feet to warm them. More cold, fluffy stuff fell on her face and Jade at last realised what it was: snow. A wolf howled again, closer; a primeval sound that echoed strangely and made the hairs on the back of her neck rise up. Dark forms around her resolved into trees. She was in a snowy, dark forest somewhere. Well, that didn’t help much. How could it be snowing at night when it had been a clear spring dawn in the ancient Britain they had just left?

  The last thing she remembered was jumping through the portal from Stonehenge in a desperate attempt to escape a horde of Roman soldiers and their ambitious governor, Agricola. She’d thought the portal was going to get her home but it must have brought her to Level Two of the game, instead. If that was right then home was still a long way off – four more Levels, in fact.

  So, if she was on Level Two, where were Phoenix and the others?

  A low moan to her left sent her in that direction, feeling her way carefully. A dark lump in the snow moaned again. Her hands touched leather and steel.

/>   “Phoenix?” He moaned again. “Phoenix!” She dropped to her knees. He lay face down in the snow, his skin cold, pulse a bare thread. She ran her hands over him, using her Spellweaver skills to try and sense injuries. He had fought the Romans until the last to give the rest a chance to get through the portal. Had he been wounded?

  Her seeking fingers touched wood. She gasped in horror. Two arrows protruded from his back, very close to his heart by the feel of them. Her instinct was to yank them out but hesitating, she took her hand away. She had fought the Romans with as much magic as she could. If she pulled them out now, she didn’t have the strength to Heal such deep wounds quickly. He would die. His only chance was if they could find shelter and warmth. She needed food and her herbs to replenish enough strength to save him.

  She needed help. Where were the others?

  “Oh, my head!” A voice behind made her turn.

  “Marcus!” She hurried over, slipping in the deepening snow. Strong hands grasped hers. Jade sobbed in relief, clutching at them like a lifeline. “Are you ok?”

  “Yes - just a headache bad enough to kill a god. Where are we?” The Roman boy sounded pained.

  Another, smaller figure joined them. “Somewhere dark, wet and way too cold,” it said, helpfully.

  “Brynn!” She hugged him, feeling how thin and small he was beneath his patched clothes. “Where’s Truda?”

  “I’m here,” the young redheaded girl piped up. “It’s awful cold here.” She wrapped her too-big druid cloak tighter about herself. A flurry of wind and snow snatched the hood off her face. In the gloom, her big blue eyes were dark holes in a white oval.

  Jade grabbed Marcus’ hand and hauled him upright. “Phoenix has been hurt. We need to find shelter or he’s going to die.”

  “Show me,” Marcus ordered.

  She led them to their fallen friend. Marcus felt his pulse for a long moment.

  He shook his head, barely visible in the dim light. “It’s too late, Jade. His heart has stopped. He’s gone. Phoenix is dead.”

  “No!” Shoving him aside she dropped to the cold ground. Her hands shook with fear and cold as she felt Phoenix’s jugular. Nothing. Leaning down, she placed her ear against his back, listening hard for breath or heart sounds. Still nothing.

  “No,” she whispered again. Yanking the arrows out, she put her fingertips to the wounds. There was no bleeding.

  Marcus was right. His heart had stopped.

  She shoved Phoenix over onto his back, trying to remember her CPR classes from school. Laying her hands over his heart, she pushed down as hard as she could, over and over, counting aloud. One, two three. One two three. Tears dripped down her cheeks and froze into little icicles on her chin. Every once in awhile, she stopped to force a breath into his cold lips or to feel for a pulse. The others stood around in awkward, breathless silence; not really understanding her actions.

  Pump; pump; pump.

  Nothing.

  Again.

  Still nothing.

  “Live, you idiot! Breathe!” she yelled finally, thumping his chest in frustration. “You can’t die on me now, Phoenix! You can’t leave me here alone!”

  A warm hand covered hers. She looked up blearily into Marcus’ grim face.

  “He’s gone, Jade.” The Roman murmured, his eyes dark with pain. “Even if you started his heart again, he would just bleed to death if you can’t heal him. Can you?”

  Numbly, she shook her head.

  She slumped, covering her face, unable to believe it. “He can’t be dead, Marcus. He can’t be. What am I going to do? If he’s gone then I can’t go home, either. I…I…” she ran out of words as her throat closed up with tears and disbelief.

  Marcus drew her to her feet and held her. Brynn and Truda gathered close, adding their small bodies to the warmth and shared sorrow.

  “He died a warrior’s death. It will be alright,” Marcus said at last, stroking her hair.

  Jade blinked, brushing freezing tears from her cheeks. How could he say that? A warrior’s death? What was the use of that? Dead was dead. It wouldn’t be alright. He didn’t understand. Phoenix was a real person, like her. What had happened to his body in the real world? What would happen to her now? Her only connection to her world was gone. She would be stuck here forever. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. She was already supposed to be home. What was she going to do? How could she survive this place on her own? What about her real life? What about her family and Phoenix’s?

  With Phoenix gone there was no way she could stop Feng Zhudai and save both worlds. This world and her own would be destroyed if Zhudai succeeded in his ultimate plan. They had been drawn here together. They were supposed to stop Zhudai – together. It wasn’t supposed to be like this!

  Fresh tears burned her cold cheeks. She turned from Marcus to stare blindly into the dark forest, feeling helpless and very young. Without Phoenix, it just couldn’t be done. Zhudai would win. She would die here too and never see her father again.

  “Jade,” Marcus spoke again, gently. “I know this is tough but we need your help. If we don’t get out of this cold we’ll all die. The wind and snow are picking up. We need to get into shelter. Can you see any nearby?”

  Taking a long, slow breath, she tried to get hold of herself. Here, it wasn’t possible to curl up in a ball of misery and hide like she did at home. People depended on her here. Marcus was right, she couldn’t let them down. They were all she had now. Pushing aside grief for later, she extended her half-Elven senses to penetrate the gloom.

  “There,” she pointed off to the left. “I think there’s a little hut through the trees.”

  Brynn looked toward it, shoulders hunched and face turned from the freshening winds. “I’ll go check it out.”

  A wolf called. Its desolate cry was answered by another, somewhere very close. Truda pressed herself into Jade’s leg.

  “I don’t like wolves,” she whispered.

  Jade closed her eyes, listening to the shadowy forest. “They’re closing in on us; a pack of ten. They’re starving and desperate or they’d never come near humans. Marcus, we have to get to that hut fast.” She looked at him then down at Phoenix’s still form. “But Phoenix ….. we… we can’t leave him here. Help me lift him. Brynn, stay with us.”

  Marcus handed Phoenix’s sword to Brynn. The boy grasped it gingerly, struggling to hold its weight up. Marcus sheathed his own weapon and bent down. With a grunt of effort, he picked Phoenix’s body up in a fireman’s carry over his shoulders.

  “Let’s go. I can’t carry him far,” he groaned. “He must weigh three hundred libra!”

  Jade snatched up Phoenix’s backpack and slung it over her shoulder, staring into the darkness around them. She pushed Truda in front of her. Brynn lead the way, sword raised as high as he could lift it.

  A low-pitched, snarling rose from the shadows to their right, making the hairs on the back of Jade’s neck tingle. Truda whimpered. Another snarl came from the left. A ghostly, grey shape drifted through the trees, pacing, watching. A second appeared; a third. They slipped closer; ever closer.

  “Faster, Marcus,” Jade urged.

  “Which way,” he panted.

  “A bit to your left,” she instructed. “About another twenty or so paces.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw movement: a huge she-wolf springing from behind. With a cry of warning Jade spun, swinging her quarterstaff in a defensive arc. The tip connected solidly with exposed canine ribs. The wolf yelped, twisted in midair to snap at the staff then landed and backed away with a snarl.

  Another wolf rushed, snapping at her heels. She jabbed backwards, catching it across the sensitive nose. It yipped and retreated. Snarling and biting at each other the dogs closed ranks, keeping apace with the humans as they ran.

  She reached within herself, searching for reserves of magic she could use against them to buy some time. There were none. She had exhausted herself escaping from the Romans and helping the druids at Stonehenge
. It was a miracle she even stayed on her feet.

  “Almost there!” Brynn called, catching hold of Truda’s hand as the child stumbled in the snow.

  Marcus staggered to the door of the hut and pushed at it with a foot. It was locked.

  “I’ll have to break it down.”

  “Then we won’t be able to close it again. Move over,” Brynn shouldered the Roman, completely failing to shift him. Marcus stepped aside, lowering Phoenix to the cold ground. The boy-thief crouched down, peering closely at the door.

  “Give me a second and I’ll get this open.”

  “Marcus!” Jade tried to watch all the wolves at once as they slowly closed in on their intended victims. Together, she and Marcus faced the hungry canines with nothing more than a staff and a sword between them. Jade handed Truda her knife and shoved her behind.

  “Watch over Phoenix and protect Brynn.”

  Trembling, the girl nodded, edging backward until she almost stumbled over Phoenix’s prone form.

  The wolfpack sidled nearer.

  Jade stood shoulder to shoulder with Marcus and faced the animals with frozen fingers and a racing heart. Was this it? Would they all die here in the freezing snow, torn to pieces by wild animals?

  Behind the main pack a single, huge male wolf sat back on its haunches and watched. Jade found her gaze inexplicably drawn to the animal. There was something intelligent, almost regal, about its bearing. In a jet black pelt its eyes were a startling clear, pale grey. It turned them on her. Its jaw dropped, pink tongue lolling out and, just for a second, she had the strangest feeling it laughed at her.

  The wind picked up, wailing like a banshee through the treetops. It flung snow in their faces, blinding and cold. The temperature dropped. Jade blinked away the snowflakes and the sense of connection with the black wolf dissipated.

  Growling, a closer animal launched itself. She brought her staff around, cracking it across the muzzle. With a yip of pain, it landed awkwardly and scampered backward. Three more crept in, heads down, muscular shoulders rippling as they looked for a way past the weapons. Marcus jabbed at one, wounding it on the shoulder; it paused then kept coming.