A score of einherjar sat camped by each entrance to the catacombs and chambers below the barrows. A ring of torches banished all shadows, ensuring none could sneak past or approach unseen. None of them slept despite the nocturnal hour; they knew that this was the most likely time for battle rather than during the day when avian sentinels could keep watch. Half of them kept eyes on the surrounding dark while the remainder polished weapons, ate and drank as needed, and otherwise passed the time.
A storm of stone and steel appeared from nowhere. With a swing of the hammer, Halfdan knocked the first torches down and continued to attack human targets. Already, one of them ran down the tunnel, shouting cries of alarm, while the others seized weapons.
Behind the berserker came a priestess and a skáld; taking advantage of the sliver of shadows that arose, the former grabbed the latter and blinked them both forward, into the middle of the small camp, where they disappeared down the tunnel. Hurrying to that same spot, Halfdan took position and guarded it, preventing any from following. And seeing his companions leave his sight, he smiled and unleashed [Berserker's Rage].
*
Once in the tunnels, Freydis let go of Sif to blink ahead once more. Her eyes adjusted well to the darkness, another benefit of her gift, and she jumped forward two times until she stood in front of the warrior who had fled to raise the alarm, Hel’s dagger raised in her hand, which he ran straight into. He died with a confused look on his face, and Freydis grabbed his spear from his grasp as he fell down.
If time had permitted it, the priestess might have wondered what happened to einherjar who died, considering they were already dead warriors gathered by Odin for his host. Instead, she stuck with practical concerns and continued down the tunnel at a slower pace, allowing Sif to catch up to her. Once they reached the end, Freydis pulled on the shadows to hide as best she could and look around the corner into the gate chamber.
She saw at least another score of warriors, spears lowered in a wall to make entry impossible. Behind them stood Tyr, commanding the fight. Already, the runes in the centre glowed, and another five warriors appeared, taking position behind their comrades. Killing the man had not prevented the alarm being raised; his shouts had resonated in the corridor, and undoubtedly, those defending the gate knew to prepare. But it was one enemy less, and any confusion caused when he failed to appear would serve their purpose. To further that end, Sif stepped out and quickly released her galdr.
She sowed madness among the warriors, though many of them resisted, especially as Tyr’s booming voice called them to order. But it lasted long enough to allow Freydis to throw her spear as a javelin, impaling one enemy, before she and Sif fled down the tunnels of the labyrinth. Several of the einherjar roared and pursued.
*
As Halfdan surveyed the small battlefield and saw no living foes, the rage abandoned him. Nothing but corpses surrounded him, their heads smashed in and bodies torn apart by his hammer. The taste of blood filled his mouth, though not his own; he barely had injuries, and already, [Mend Your Wounds] was closing them up. If only every fight could be this easy.
But Halfdan knew that stronger enemies awaited below in greater numbers, and surprise no longer fought on his side. Cunning rather than strength would see their aims achieved; all the same, Halfdan’s work was not done, and so he banished thoughts of weariness that always followed his rage. He found it easier than ever before; becoming an immortal power granted many benefits, it seemed. Hefting his hammer, Halfdan went into the tunnel.
*
Freydis grabbed Sif and blinked forward, gaining ground, but still visible to those hunting them through the dark labyrinth. Deeper and deeper they led them into the dark corridors until the priestess deemed it far enough. Sif signalled to her the path to take, Freydis took hold of her, and they vanished, leaping through shadows yet again thanks to [Deceiver’s Gift].
Having used her ability so many times in rapid succession, Freydis tasted blood as she breathed, but she hastened onwards together with Sif, leaving behind confounded pursuers, whose quarry had suddenly disappeared.
Meanwhile, the priestess and the skáld ran the full circle to reach the gate chamber again, but this time from the opposite side. Staying to the shadows, they looked in at diminished numbers, but still plenty to hold the area, especially as another handful appeared as reinforcements, travelling from Asgard.
Enacting the next part of her plan, Freydis used [Most Favoured]. A roaring bear appeared and charged down the corridor, crashing into the awaiting spears. Its thick fur served it better than mail, and while the weapons slowed its assault, the beast swatted them aside and pushed ahead, disrupting ranks and spreading fear. Commands from Tyr stabilised the line, and more warriors ran forward to defend the threshold.
As expected. In the darkness, deeper in the tunnel, Freydis and Sif waited, ready to make their move.
*
Cautiously descending, using [Friend to Shadow] to hide himself, Halfdan approached the lower levels. At length, he reached the bottom and dared to cast a glance around the corner, into the gate chamber. He saw the plan unfolding as intended by Freydis. The defenders had gathered at the northern threshold, fighting the fylgja, leaving only a handful at the southern entrance near him. Easy enough for a berserker to break through. Once he did so, making for the gate, his companions would blink across the defenders and join him, and they would make their escape.
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Taking deep breaths, Halfdan prepared himself and charged in. He could barely raise his hammer above his head in the low tunnel, but he did not require all his strength for the strike either; the magic imbued in [Heart of Yggdrasil] destroyed the spear wall upon touch, leaving bewildered and panicked einherjar to hold broken hafts. Laughing in triumph, Halfdan continued, sweeping them aside with mighty blows. Too few to withstand him, they were tossed aside.
Until a defending blade came, equal to his strength. One-armed he might be, but Tyr was a god with the power to match Loki’s inheritor. Standing between Halfdan and the gate, the deity wielded his sword with equal might, parrying blows. What was stranger, the god’s blade did not fall apart when struck by Halfdan’s artefact.
In the dim light of the torches, between the flurry of blows, it took the berserker a long moment to understand. Tyr’s blade was not of steel, but carved from wood and enchanted with runes. Not forged by hand, [Heart of Yggdrasil] had no power over it. It was doubtful that such a sword could harm Halfdan, but Tyr did not have to either; he simply had to hold Halfdan back, buying time while his fylgja grew tired and more reinforcements arrived.
Watching their plan fall apart, Halfdan had to think on his feet. Sif and Freydis awaited his signal, but they could not wait forever. At some point, the bear would disappear, and with reinforcements, the einherjar could push out and search the surrounding tunnels until they found the intruders. But if the pair made the leap into the centre of the chamber, they would be surrounded by enemies, who would turn on them a split moment later.
Looking at the gate, Halfdan saw the runes begin to light up. More warriors were coming, and if they simply stayed put, the reinforcements would block anybody else from using it.
Halfdan could only think of one option, but if it failed, Freydis and Sif would have to flee without him; he dearly hoped they had the presence of mind to understand that. He blinked quickly, placing his available Seeds in [Friend to Shadow]. “Freydis, now!” he shouted, and at the same time, he activated the ability, hoping it obeyed him as intended. He willed himself to jump forward, across space in an instant.
From the other side, Freydis did the same, holding Sif, and all three of them landed on the gate, falling on top of each other. The skáld moved two runes around and screamed a word, and the light swallowed them up.
*
As soon as they appeared, Halfdan rolled away and got on his feet, hammer ready. The runes remained dull, dormant. For now. His companions likewise scrambled to get up. As always, they were in a space entirely dark, though Halfdan found that he could still catch a glimpse of his surroundings, such as the outlines of the others; perhaps another benefit of being a [Friend to Shadow]. Most likely, they were inside a cave or a tower. To his left, Halfdan believed he saw a glimpse of light. “Anyone hurt?”
“No,” came the response from both.
Halfdan moved quickly towards the sliver of light. “Let’s go before they gather their wits.” The others followed him swiftly. Outside, he saw that it was night, the early hour near dawn; the sun moved in Midgard same as it did in J?tunheim. Assuming they had reached the right place. “This is Midgard, right?”
“Of course!” Sif replied indignantly. Her voice became more hesitant as she added, “I think so… It was confusing, all the noise and danger. I think – I think I moved the runes right for Midgard.”
“We’ll find out when we meet others,” Halfdan considered. “The question is where the Dwarves thought it wise to place their gate. Far from settlements, I imagine.” He looked behind them; they had emerged from a ruined tower, perhaps once meant for keeping watch or a beacon. It looked so abandoned, though, it was foolish to hope any people dwelt nearby.
“With a little luck, we’ll find water and perhaps something to eat. But we do seem to have another long march ahead of us,” Freydis agreed. “To that aim, along with gaining distance to would-be pursuers, we should get moving.”
“Gladly. Which direction?” Halfdan raised an eyebrow.
She shrugged. “East may be as good as west, but if this is Midgard, where Odinsvi lies in southern lands, I suggest that direction.” She looked up and located the toe of Aurvandil in the night sky, allowing her to find her bearings. “This way.”
Having no better suggestion, Halfdan followed her lead, as did Sif.
*
They had walked for an hour, the sun beginning to rise to their left, when Freydis’ prediction came true, and they reached water. Not a stream, but either a river so wide, it had no equal elsewhere, or else the sea. Tentatively, Halfdan dipped his finger and tasted the water. “Salty.”
Freydis kept her expression blank, but Sif allowed disappointment to show on hers. Halfdan mirrored her sentiment, albeit he imagined for a different reason. No doubt, the child was thirsty and had hoped for freshwater. As for Halfdan’s reasons, this impeded their chosen route and suggested they had chosen poorly to go south.
Staring at the unsurmountable hindrance, Freydis seemed to have reached the same conclusion. “Well, my earlier remark proves relevant. East or west, do we have a preference?”
Halfdan glanced at the rising sun. “I prefer not to walk with that glare in my eyes.”
Freydis nodded. “West it is.”
*
Another hour saw them frustrated in the same manner. Before them, the sea spread out, once more hindering their path. “I have a bad feeling we’re on an island,” Freydis admitted.
Halfdan sighed. This could complicate their situation terribly. He could not spot the mainland from here, assuming Freydis was right. They could continue along the shoreline and hope to spot land across the sea, or maybe with luck, they would come across a village. But given that the gates seemed placed in remote locations, he feared it more likely that this was an uninhabited isle.
Too early to abandon hope, he reminded himself. The gate had been built ages ago; what might have once been a desolate island could be populated today. They would have to continue onwards and explore; should the place be empty, they would cross that bridge when they came to it. Or sea, in this case. “Let’s keep going.”
The others did not argue, having no better ideas to offer, presumably, and they marched on, now following the shoreline north with the sea to one side, rising sun to the other.
