Berserker: Forsaken World Series

By Korie Massey

As a child, Leon is found on the beach in the kingdom of West Axum after his fathers failed raiding attempt. Sold into slavery and trained as a gladiator, he has become the champion of the city of Navio.

With dreams of freedom and living a peaceful life with his lover, he finds himself in the deadliest fight of his life. His forbidden love has not gone unnoticed and will trigger a series of events that will throw the kingdom into chaos.

His people are descended from the god slayer and his invincible berserkers who massacred the gods three thousand years ago.

Leon has to fight an internal struggle as his ancestors magic flows through his veins.

What price will he and the ones he cares for have to pay for their freedom?

Fear and pain may accompany death, but it is desire that shepherds its certainty.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris NZ
• Release date: Oct 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781499099775

Korie Massey

Korie massey grew up in Dannevirke a small town on the east coast of New Zealand. Forever day dreaming he has been creating stories his entire life. From poetry to songs for his heavy metal band as a teenager writing has been his life long passion.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

‘DEATH IS ONLY the beginning,’ Leon whispered to himself as he scraped his oil stone down his gladius, sharpening the blade. The arena above him rumbled like an earthquake with the weight of 40,000 people in the stands above the stone gladiator chambers.

He could hear the roar of the crowd in excitement, which obviously meant one of the gladiators had spilled the blood of the other on the sands.

‘Don’t be scared, Leon. I’ve seen you overcome greater odds than this,’ said Commander Felix.

Leon looked up into the commander’s green eyes. A scar ran down the left side of his face. The man was the most fearsome one Leon had ever met, yet he was one of the few soldiers of West Axum who even acknowledged a slave by his name.

‘I’m not scared, Commander. But I am prepared to die this day,’ Leon replied, standing to his feet.

He was a head taller than the large soldier standing before him. It reminded him of when he was younger. Felix would tower over him and threaten to lock him in the cells when Leon and his friends got into mischief, as kids do.

‘Two more, Leon, and you’re free. You can do this. You’re the most talented gladiator I’ve ever seen,’ Felix said, looking him directly in the eyes.

Leon looked down at his feet at his leather sandals. ‘That’s why I’m so anxious. I know they will do all they can to prevent my freedom. When was the last time you ever heard of a slave winning his freedom, Commander?’ Leon asked.

Felix grabbed each of Leon’s shoulders in his large strong hands.

‘You have managed to do the impossible every time, Leon, from when you first washed ashore to this kingdom. Every time I think, This is it—this kid is not going to make it this time, you manage to pull it off. Were you not from the savage lands, you would be the finest soldier in the kingdom.’

The crowd erupted in applause. The fight was over. Leon could hear the muffled sound of the king, announcing the victor of the match. It was Leon’s turn to fight.

‘Thanks, Felix. Your confidence in me gives me strength,’ Leon replied.

The iron gates to the chamber opened, and in strutted one of Leon’s best friends, Angus. He was covered in blood head to toe. Angus was a short, stocky man with the brightest red hair and the fieriest temper Leon had ever known.

‘Another one for our ludus, Commander,’ Angus said, acknowledging Felix as he sat down on the stone bench and removed his damaged breastplate.

‘The fucker almost killed me. Thank the gods he was too weak to drive his spear into my armour,’ Angus said in his booming, obnoxious voice as he slapped Leon on the back.

‘No match for the might of a Skara Brae, aye, brother?’ Leon said cheerfully. His anxiety was lifting to see one of his oldest friends still alive.

‘Nothing’s a match for the Skara Brae. Even those fierce beasts from East Axum can’t strike me down,’ Angus said, laughing.

All of a sudden, they heard the crowd chanting. ‘Varangian, Varangian, Varangian!’ was all they could hear. The crowd was stomping their feet to a beat that made the chamber rumble, and dust fell down around them from the wooden ceiling above.

‘They call your name, Leon. The love of the crowd is what will win you your freedom,’ Felix said, motioning Leon to follow him to the wrought-iron gates leading out to the centre of the arena.

‘There is only one whose love gives me strength and motivation, Commander,’ Leon said with steely determination as he followed him.

‘You’ve always been ambitious, Leon, the slave who married the king’s daughter!’ Angus called out to him, laughing hysterically.

Pulling the middle finger at Angus, Leon replied, ‘Can you hear them call for the champion, brother? I get closer to my goals with every fight.’

‘Your desires for royal pussy will be the death of us, Leon!’ Angus yelled out as Leon went farther down the stone tunnel.

‘Are all Skara Brae as vulgar as you?’ Leon called back.

‘I have sixteen siblings, brother,’ Angus replied with his head thrown back in laughter.

‘That explains a lot,’ Leon said, laughing.

‘She will be watching today,’ Felix said as they walked to the gates.

‘I know. I was with her yesterday,’ Leon replied. The crowd was getting impatient with anticipation of their champion.

‘You tread dangerous waters, my friend. If anyone found out about you two, it would mean execution for you,’ the commander said sternly.

‘I would gladly suffer the consequences,’ Leon said with a smile as he held up his two gladiuses.

The trumpets rang throughout the arena. The commander threw open the wrought-iron gates. In front of them, the sands of the arena were stained with blood. And around the outside ring of the arena stood over a hundred soldiers in black leather armour and black capes. On their helmets were black crests.

Leon stepped out onto the sands, and the crowd erupted with excitement. ‘Varangian, Varangian!’ He looked up and around the arena. It was the largest crowd he had ever seen at the games.

From business owners to lowly house servants, every seat was filled. There were women in the crowd who exposed their breasts, screaming out to him offers of sexual favours if God was to bless him with victory. He saw soldiers amongst the crowd, wearing brown leather armour with red tunics underneath. Even their attention was solely on him.

If he were an inexperienced fighter, the sight and noise would easily have overwhelmed him. But he wasn’t inexperienced. He had trained with gladiators at the ludus since he was 6 years old. He had fought in every arena in Navio and surrounding cities and towns, building his reputation as the fiercest killer to ever grace the sands of the arena. He may have been a slave, but in that moment, he was the nearest thing to a god to these people who enslaved him.

These people once craved to see his blood. Now they craved to see him spill blood.

‘Leon, Leon, Leon!’ they chanted.

He had grown used to his slave name. No one would call him by his real name here. To them, it was a heathen name given to him from a godless people.

He looked up into the blue sky. The sun was directly overhead, indicating it was midday. The heat was unbearable. It seemed it hadn’t rained for months. The air was arid, and even though he had spent twenty years living in Navio, he still hadn’t acclimatised to the heat.

Being from an ice-covered land, his white skin wasn’t meant for such prolonged exposure to the sun. He could feel his skin start to redden. The people of Axum were naturally tanned—unlike Leon, who would burn and then have his skin peel off.

Leon adjusted the strap to his single breastplate of armour and kneeled and dropped his swords to the ground. He gathered the sand in his hands and rubbed them together.

‘Why do you do that for every fight?’ the commander asked him.

‘Palma non sine pulvere,’ Leon replied.

‘The old tongue. What does that mean?’ Felix asked.

‘The lion’s palms are not without the dust of the arena,’ Leon said, gripping his two short swords as he stood.

‘Quite fitting, seeing as you are named as the lion,’ the commander said.

‘It gives me grip when my palms are sweating so much,’ Leon said, raising an arm with his sword high in the air. The crowd chanted louder than before, ‘Varangian, Varangian!’

Leon looked to the king’s platform up high and saw many important people in white and purple robes. They were the consuls and military leaders of the kingdom. In the centre sat the king of West Axum. To his right was a man Leon could only assume was the king of East Axum because he knew today was a celebration of peace between the two countries held annually since the civil war.

To the side of each king sat the queens, wearing exquisite gowns only royalty could afford. Leon looked to the side of the West Axum queen, and his heart skipped a beat. Time seemed to slow down as he gazed at her. There she was, the most beautiful woman in the world—a jewel more radiant than the moon with her long straight light-brown hair. She wore a stunning emerald-green gown. Her eyes locked on to his, and she gave a slight smile of acknowledgement.

CHAPTER 2

J ULIA LOOKED OUT into the arena, and there he stood in its centre. His bright blue eyes had locked on to hers for the briefest of moments. She felt butterflies in her stomach. She was excited seeing her lover standing there with his muscular tattooed arm holding up his sword to the roaring crowd.

They loved him, but not as much as she did. The excitement of seeing him was mixed with the fear of him dying in this godforsaken arena.

His blond hair and blue eyes stood out amongst everyone else; he was the only one of his kind in Axum. The raiders always fought to the death, so none were ever captured as slaves.

She saw Leon drop his sword; as her father stood up, the whole crowd went quiet.

‘People of Navio, we have our champion!’ her father called out to the crowd, which erupted in cheers and whistles. A few soldiers waved their arms downwards to signal for them to be quiet.

‘For the final event, we have something special for you all!’ he yelled again, grinning back to his advisors and to the king of East Axum as the crowd roared again. Julia saw the two gates to the left and right of the arena open. In came three men from each gate. The three on the left looked identical, almost like soldiers, and they wore chain mail and had a short sword each.

To the right came three men even larger than Leon. One had a long trident spear and a net, and the only armour he had was a sleeve on this right arm and a large full-face helmet. One man had a helmet that covered his nose and the sides of his cheeks. On top of the helmet was a red plume. He had a large metal shield and a short double-edged sword. The third had a rounded golden helmet, golden chest plates, and a sword that was curved almost like a scythe.

‘Here we have the best men from the kingdom of East Axum!’ the king bellowed out to the crowd. The crowd didn’t cheer this time; they were shocked, as was Julia. She looked down to see Leon’s reaction; he didn’t seem fazed. He looked as confident as ever.

‘It’s unfair!’ screamed one of the spectators; the crowd all chimed in with him. The soldiers waved them to be silent again.

‘People of Navio, our champion has been undefeated in countless battles. We felt he needed a real challenge and that the people of Navio needed a great show,’ the king called to the crowd with a smirk on his face.

The crowd still stayed silent. Julia heard Lucius, the king of East Axum, laugh.

‘I think you’ll be in the market for a new champion, Julius, perhaps the savage with the red hair.’ He laughed. Julia wanted to scream at the man; the thought crossed her mind to use her guard’s sword to stab him. But when she looked out to Leon’s face, he was staring at her, and he nodded subtly, so she cooled herself and watched intently.

‘It’s like they forget he’s a slave,’ Julia heard a man behind her say; she looked back and saw it was her father’s cousin Acilinus. He was a short, fat, balding man; and he had always given Julia the creeps. She had heard of his sexual perversions, and the way he looked at her always made her feel uneasy.

Acilinus had just been promoted to lieutenant of the city guard, and not from skill or service, she thought to herself; it was merely because he was the queen’s cousin.

‘He’s won the hearts of the people!’ Julia snapped as she gave him an angry look.

Acilinus gave her that creepy look that made her skin crawl, and his mouth smiled into that deviant grin he always made when he didn’t like what someone had to say.

‘He’s a slave from the most savage part of the world, raider scum. We should’ve had him killed when he first washed up onshore while his heathen kin were raiding our lands,’ her mother snapped back.

‘I agree. That savage has been nothing but trouble from what I’ve seen and heard around the city,’ Acilinus replied; he was always greasing up to her parents.

Julia remembered when she first met Leon. Her parents had taken her to visit the local ludi; and there he was, 10 years of age, training with fully grown men with as much ferocity as any of the hardened gladiators. Her father had laughed at the little blond Varangian as he was knocked to the ground. He had asked the lanista to give them a show to test the young raider’s skills he had learned in his time in Navio. The lanista paired him with a large dark islander and handed them both wooden training swords, but her father had insisted on them fighting with steel.

The lanista reluctantly agreed and handed Leon a short sword he could barely lift; and the large islander, who didn’t speak their language, looked confused as to why he would be fighting a small boy with a real blade.

The islander played around with Leon, but with encouragement from Julia’s father, Leon took it seriously as he had spent four years of his life training with these men.

Leon caught the islander across the leg with his blade. The islander reflexively lashed back with his blade, catching Leon across the chest, cutting him deep; and he fell on the ground in a pool of blood. The islander looked shocked and was saying sorry over and over. Leon was bleeding profusely. Julia rushed forward and ripped off a part of her robe to put on the wound to slow the bleeding. It was then Leon looked into her eyes, and she saw his amazingly deep blue eyes; she fell in love in that moment. Her mother clipped her around the ears and rebuked her for getting the heathen’s filthy, diseased blood on her.

Julia looked out to Leon standing in the centre of the sand-covered arena; he still bore the scar on his chest.

‘King Lucius has provided his three best personal guards to challenge our champion, and the other three are soldiers from across the world!’ her father yelled to the crowd.

‘One was a soldier from Mitanni.’ The soldier with the scythe and golden helmet raised his arm.

‘One from Meroe.’ The soldier with the red plume raised his sword in the air.

‘And the champion of Histria.’ The one with the trident stood still.

‘Each of these is the most formidable men from their corners of the world, and now they fight our champion!’ he screamed with excitement; the crowd roared with regained enthusiasm.

‘These six men will fight the champion of West Axum, the Varangian! The savage from the west! Leoninus, the lion of Navio! The BERSERKER!’ He screamed the last word.

Most of the crowd roared with excitement; some who were cheering went quiet with shock when they heard that last word.

Julia looked out to Leon; he hadn’t raised his arms, and the six men had circled around him. There he stood, defying the odds as he always had. Her father sat down and was receiving pats on the back from his advisors.

‘Why did you have to say that word, Julius?’ Julia’s mother asked angrily.

‘For effect, my dear,’ he replied.

‘He isn’t really one of those things, is he?’ she asked fearfully.

‘If he was a berserker, my dear, I would’ve had his head removed from his body the moment that heathen washed up on our shores,’ her father said.

‘Stop saying that word!’ her mother responded, becoming agitated with anxiety.

‘The berserkers haven’t been seen for a millennium, Marcella. There’s nothing to worry about. There’s no proof they even existed,’ King Lucius said reassuringly.

‘Those things came with the god slayer and brought our world into the Dark Ages,’ her mother said timidly.

‘It’s a myth, my dear. There has been and always will be one god. Those godless heathens brought darkness to our land and destroyed those in our land who worshipped the false gods, and that allowed us to reach to the light of the one true god,’ her father said, repeating the same words she had learned from the priests.

‘Other magic still exists in this world, Julius. Don’t be so quick to disregard them as myth,’ her mother argued.

Julia tried to remember the old poem warning of such monsters she had heard at church.

‘Yes, I have seen real magic, my dear. But it is nothing like the legends of the berserkers. They are merely a story to remind us to keep those heathens away from our shores, and all magic is an abomination in the eyes of God,’ her father said reassuringly, putting his arm around her shoulder.

‘Yet here is one of those raiders in our kingdom, loved by all those who have seen him fight. His legend grows. He is idolised, and it troubles me, Julius,’ her mother said, looking directly at Leon.

‘Irrespective of their origin, gladiators offer spectators an example of Axum’s martial ethics. And in fighting or dying well, they can inspire admiration and popular acclaim. They are celebrated in high and low art, and their value as entertainers is what gives them the admiration of the crowd. That is it, my dear,’ her father said sternly.

‘Let’s just pray to God he dies well then,’ her mother responded, looking furious. Julia’s heart sunk to her stomach as her mother said this. She didn’t feel love towards her mother anymore since she found out about the sick and twisted things her mother had been doing to slaves. She had seen the heads on pikes outside of the palace and had always assumed it was thieves or enemies of the crown, but after she had heard the rumours, she went to find out for herself what her cruel mother had been doing.

She saw one day when Acilinus brought some children and their mothers to the forest out the back of the palace, and several of the women were looking dishevelled, obviously from Acilinus having his perverted fun with them beforehand. Julia hid behind a stone pillar and heard Acilinus tell the women and children that they were free to leave, but they had to run, or they would be executed immediately. The slaves ran as fast as they could into the woods, and then her mother and Acilinus took off after them with a pack of hounds and their horses. It didn’t take long for them to arrive back with the corpses and heads of the slave mothers and their children. It had sickened her that her own mother had revelled in this disgusting game, but it didn’t surprise Julia as she had heard the rumours, and her mother had been cruel to her the majority of her life.

Julia tore herself away from the horrible memory as her father gave a wave to the trumpeters, and they sounded their horns, signalling for the fight to commence.

CHAPTER 3

C AUGHT OFF GUARD by the king calling him a berserker, Leon didn’t notice when the horns rang out across the stadium; it was only when the six men slowly approached him that he snapped out of his trance. Each of these men was more formidable than any Leon had ever fought.

Leon felt the rage building inside him; he suppressed it and held one sword out facing towards one of the soldiers and the other one in close for defence.

With a scream, the man from Mitanni rushed him, swinging his curved blade towards Leon’s head. Leon ducked, and two of the soldiers attacked him at the same time. Leon used his left sword to deflect one sword and the right to deflect the other; the ring of steel was loud in his ears as he sidestepped and retreated backwards.

‘Vali.’ The voice sounded familiar to him. Leon looked around and quickly sidestepped the thrust of a spear coming at him.

‘Give in to the rage, Vali.’ Once again, Leon looked around; he couldn’t recognise the voice, but it sounded so familiar as if he had heard that voice his whole life.

The anxiety was building rapidly as he sidestepped, ducked, and deflected oncoming attacks from the six men; he was quickly feeling fatigued.

‘It’s building up inside you, Vali. Release it and see your true strength.’

This time, the voice had distracted him as the tip of a sword just missed his face and scraped down his chest plate and left a light cut down his stomach.

The whole crowd gasped in unison at his near miss. Leon stumbled back and fell on the sand, and he rolled to the left as the large man from Histria stabbed his spear down at him. He pushed himself up with difficulty as he still had a gladius in each hand. As he came up, he took an armoured boot to the side of his face, sending him sprawling back to the ground.

‘You’re going to die if this continues, Vali. Release it,’ the menacing voice echoed in his mind.

‘I’m going to die if you keep distracting me,’ Leon said out loud. One of the soldiers looked at him confusingly as he went to kick Leon again; this time, Leon was ready for him, and he kicked the knee of the supporting leg of the soldier. The soldier hit the ground hard with a clang of his chain mail.

Leon heard the crowd roar with excitement as he leapt to his feet and tried to go on the offensive, lunging towards the man from Meroe with the big red plume on his helmet. The man parried his attack and hit him hard in the face with his shield. The man was a highly skilled warrior, not a gladiator, Leon quickly realised.

He could feel his heart beating faster; the rage deep down inside him was coming to a boil, yet he felt exhausted as he realised the men were playing with him.

‘Release the hate, Vali. Stop holding back. Unleash it!’ The voice was right about one thing—the hatred he felt was building up in him. It had always been there, nagging away—the feelings of hopelessness and being sold into slavery after being separated from his people. The horrible treatment from people in Axum; they despised slaves and even more so despised his race in particular.

The steel net hit him hard, making him step back; he felt tangled in the net as he tried to throw it off. His sword in his right hand caught in one of the squares. The resistance of the net was wearing him down more. A sword thrust came through the net from the man with the red plume; this time, he couldn’t evade the attack.

The sword cut deep past his ribcage; it stung intensely. He saw his blood cover the blade, and the crowd was cheering as he spun around, sending the net over the man’s sword.

The man was furiously trying to free his sword from the net. Leon was shoulder barged from his right side from one of the king’s soldiers and hit with the solid steel gauntlet of one of the others; it almost stunned him.

Leon was quicker than these men as he had less armour weighing him down, but he was outmatched. Because of his disadvantage, the men were cocky and taking turns smacking him around; if they wanted to kill him, they easily could’ve. But they were putting on a show for the crowd and trying their best to humiliate him.

‘They are insects compared to you, Vali. The power of your ancestors resides in you. Unleash it! Let the hate fill you and send their souls to the underworld,’ the persistent voice rang through his head. Leon could feel it—the rage, the hatred, and the desire to spill their blood were overwhelming him. If these men killed him, he would never see her again, Leon thought to himself.

He hit the ground with a thud that brought him back to his senses. Time was running out; the crowd was getting restless. It was boring for them to watch someone be kicked, punched, and stabbed with absolutely no defence.

‘That’s it, Vali! There’s your motivation—the girl, your love! You may never see her again if you die.’ Leon started to get blurry visions from the blood running into his eyes from the gash on his head caused by another steel boot to the head. This time, one of his swords flew from his hand, out of reach and lying in the sand.

‘Look at her, Vali! You are Varangian! The power in your blood is your saviour!’ Leon was on his back, seeing the grinning East Axum soldiers approaching him with their swords drawn, ready to end their spectacle. He looked up and saw Julia; she had fabric from her gown stuffed in her mouth. Tears were streaming down her face. She wanted to scream, wanting to stop it all. Behind her, the fat pig Acilinus was laughing and pointing at him; the king and queen were on their feet with looks of glee on their faces. Leon felt his heart beating faster; he felt the fury tingling all the way to his fingertips, and his energy levels were rising.

‘Unleash the fury, my berserker,’ he heard the voice say as his mind went blank, and his vision seemed to go black.

CHAPTER 4

J ULIA WANTED TO scream at the soldiers to stop this brutal punishment that she was witnessing. Her heart was breaking, and her legs were weak. To stop herself from screaming and revealing her love for the slave, she stuffed the hem of her gown in her mouth. It was sickening to watch her lover kicked and punched and sliced by these six brutal men. His blood covered him from head to toe; his blond hair was now deep red from the gash to his forehead. Blood was streaming down his face.

Leon was on his back with one gladius in his right hand; he looked dazed as he looked up into the stands. His blue eyes locked on her for a moment; he seemed to be having an internal conflict. His eyes moved around, looking at the people to the side of her. She could see his face twisting in rage; she had never seen that look on his face before, and then he looked directly ahead.

‘It looks like your problem will be fixed now,’ Acilinus said to the king, who was watching intently as the soldiers moved forward to finish Leon.

‘It seems so,’ the king replied in glee, never moving his eyes from the battleground for fear of missing the execution.

The whole crowd was quiet as one of the soldiers looked towards King Lucius; both kings stood to their feet and held their right arms straight out in front of them with their thumbs out to the side.

The crowd went silent with anticipation, waiting for the verdict; both kings looked at each other, grinned, then looked out to the soldier above Leon. Then both simultaneously moved their thumbs to their throats and made a throat-slitting motion.

Julia gasped along with thousands of others as the rest cheered, but above everyone else, it was Acilinus behind her she could hear.

The soldier grabbed Leon by the hair to lift his chin up. Julia noticed Leon’s eyes were no longer bright blue; they were a grey colour, and he no longer seemed himself. The part that shocked her most was as the soldier moved his blade closer to Leon’s throat, he smiled. But it wasn’t his dimpled cheeky grin she loved to see; this was a sinister grin. He looked like a man possessed.

In an instant, Leon screamed a guttural scream that reverberated through the entire stadium. He brought his gladius up and into the soldier’s stomach, spilling his guts onto the sands. The soldier’s face went from pure confidence to shock as his life left him, and he fell to the ground. His two comrades came running forward with their swords drawn in revenge for their fellow soldier.

Leon threw his gladius with his right hand and the dead soldier’s sword with his left hand at the two approaching soldiers. The gladius hit the first with a solid thud. Julia could hear with the crowd’s shocked silence as he went flying back and hit the ground.

The man was dead before he hit the ground. The other soldier was impaled in the stomach and still on his feet with blood mixed with vomit coming out his mouth. The look of shock on his face reflected every person’s in the stadium.

The silence was broken when every spectator in the crowd was on their feet, cheering and clapping; their desire for blood had been sated.

Leon rolled over to his gladius on the ground and leapt to his feet, roaring like a beast; and drenched in blood with the lust for death in his eyes, he was the most fearsome thing Julia had ever seen.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ King Lucius demanded.

‘It seems we