BTtNR - Book 3 - Chapter 037

"So let me understand this," Skardi said, leaning back against the stone wall of their quarters. "You got to meet the High King of the Dwarves, probably got to see things none of us will ever witness, and all you can tell us is that he's big and has a nice beard?"

Einar chuckled as he checked the edge on one of his axes. "What else would you have me say? That his throne is carved from a single piece of mountain? That the hall leading to it could fit half of Kopanes inside?"

"Yes!" Osvif exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "Those are exactly the kinds of details we want to hear!"

Thorodd snorted from where he sat, methodically checking the straps on his armor. "You two sound like children begging for a bedtime story."

"Says the man who asked three times how tall the doors were," Avitue pointed out, a smile tugging at her lips as she worked oil into the leather straps of her shield.

"That's different," Thorodd muttered. "I needed to know for tactical purposes."

"Tactical purposes," Skardi repeated, grinning. "Is that what we're calling curiosity now?"

The banter felt good. In a few hours, they would descend into the mine shafts with Yulgas and his dwarven crew. The mission was simple in concept but would be brutal in execution. Clear out whatever creatures had infested the deeper tunnels and secure enough ore to begin trading for the weapons and armor they desperately needed.

Einar set his axe aside and looked at his pack. They were ready. Each warrior had checked their gear twice already, but the nervous energy made them check again. It was a ritual he understood well.

"The Stone Father gave us three tasks," Einar said, his voice carrying across the room. "The first two we can complete. Yulgas needs ore from the deep shafts. Stenri needs the caravan routes secured. Both require us to prove Vikings can adapt and overcome challenges that traditional dwarven tactics haven't solved."

"And the third task?" Vidar asked from the doorway, the pack leader having just arrived with his section.

"That one he'll tell us about when we've earned it." Einar met each warrior's gaze. "But it's the one that will secure us everything we need. An alliance with the dwarves. Their metal. Their knowledge. Their support when Ragnarok comes."

The room fell silent.

"No pressure then," Skardi finally said, breaking the tension. "Just have to go into a goblin-infested mine, fight creatures in the dark, and not die. Should be a normal day for us."

Laughter rippled through the group.

"Speaking of dying," Jepi said, entering with her section of warriors behind her. "I've already told my healers to prepare for multiple resurrections. Samansa is convinced we'll lose at least five before we reach the bottom."

"Only five?" Thorodd asked. "She's being optimistic."

Avitue stood, rolling her shoulders. "Then we'd better make sure we're worth the effort of bringing back.”

“She’s right,” Einar said. “Everyone, hurry up and finish their final gear check. We leave in an hour."

***

The entrance to the mine shaft was unlike anything Einar had expected.

Where he had imagined a dark hole carved into rock, instead stood a massive archway thirty feet tall and twice as wide. Runes covered the surface, glowing with a soft blue light that pulsed like a heartbeat. The stone itself had been polished smooth, and intricate carvings depicted dwarves mining, forging, and building.

"This is one of the original shafts," Yulgas said, his voice filled with pride. The blonde-bearded dwarf stood beside Einar, his chain armor gleaming in the rune light. "My ancestors carved this entrance over eight thousand years ago. Every dwarf who works in the mines passes through here at least once."

Beside Yulgas stood Stefi and Bartia. The two dwarves would be accompanying them into the depths. Bartia, whom they had traveled with before, gave Einar a nod of recognition. Her presence was reassuring. She knew how Vikings fought and had proven herself capable during their journey to Kvellholl.

"How deep are we going?" Thorodd asked, his eyes tracking the runes along the archway.

"Deep enough that the air will change," Yulgas replied. "Deep enough that you'll feel the mountain pressing down on you. Deep enough that if something goes wrong, climbing back up will take hours."

"You're really selling this," Osvif muttered.

Yulgas grinned, his teeth white against his blonde beard. "I'm not trying to scare you. I'm trying to prepare you. The creatures down there aren't like the goblins you've fought on the surface. These ones have adapted to the dark. They hunt in ways that make dwarven tactics ineffective."

"Which is why you need us," Einar said.

"Which is why I need you," Yulgas agreed. "My people are strong. We can fight in the dark better than most. But we think like dwarves. We fight like dwarves. You Vikings... you fight like madmen who don't care about rules."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Skardi said.

Bartia laughed, the sound echoing down the tunnel. "You should. It's the highest praise a dwarf can give."

Stefi stepped forward, gesturing to the mine carts lined up just inside the entrance. "These will take us down the first thousand feet. After that, we walk. The shafts are narrow, and the carts won't fit."

Einar studied the carts. Each one was reinforced with metal bands, and runes covered the wheels. "How fast do they go?"

"Fast enough that if you fall out, you won't survive the landing," Stefi replied. "Hold on tight and don't lean out. The walls get close in some sections."

The Vikings began loading into the carts, four or five per cart. Einar made sure the pack leaders were spread out, each one responsible for their section. If something went wrong during the descent, he needed leaders in every cart.

As Einar climbed into the lead cart with Thorodd, Avitue, and Yulgas, the dwarf pulled a lever. The cart lurched forward, wheels beginning to turn on the tracks that led down into the mountain.

The descent began.

For the first few minutes, the shaft was well-lit. Runes lined the walls every ten feet, providing steady illumination. The temperature was comfortable, almost warm. The sound of the wheels on the tracks created a rhythmic clatter that echoed endlessly.

Then they dropped.

Einar's stomach lurched as the cart picked up speed. The angle of the tracks increased sharply, sending them plummeting deeper. The rune lights began to space out, appearing every twenty feet, then thirty. Shadows grew between each light source, creating pockets of darkness that seemed to reach out as they passed.

The walls closed in. Sections where the shaft narrowed made Einar pull his arms tight against his body. Thorodd cursed as his shoulder almost scraped against stone.

"This is insane!" Avitue shouted over the sound of the wheels.

"This is efficient!" Yulgas shouted back, grinning like a madman.

Down they went. Einar tried to keep track of time but lost count after what felt like ten minutes. The temperature began to change. The warmth from above faded, replaced by a chill that seemed to seep from the stone itself. His breath began to fog in the air.

Then the cold vanished, replaced by heat. Not the comfortable warmth of a fire, but an oppressive heat that made sweat bead on his skin. The air felt thick, heavy, as if the mountain itself was breathing on them.

"We're passing near a lava flow," Yulgas explained. "It's several hundred feet away, but you can feel it through the stone."

The heat lasted for another few minutes before fading. In its place came a dampness that made everything feel wet. Water dripped from the ceiling, splashing against the cart. The sound of it mixed with the wheel clatter, creating a symphony of noise that pressed against Einar's ears.

Finally, after what had to be close to half an hour, the cart began to slow. The tracks leveled out, and the wheels' rhythm changed. Up ahead, Einar could see a platform carved from stone. Runes provided light, but it was dimmer here, as if the mountain was reluctant to let go of its darkness.

The cart stopped with a jolt that nearly threw Einar forward. Behind them, the other carts arrived one by one, each warrior climbing out with varying degrees of relief and nausea.

"Welcome to the deep shafts," Yulgas said, stepping onto the platform. "From here, we walk."

Einar looked around. The platform was roughly fifty feet across, carved from the living rock. Three tunnels led away from it, each one large enough for three dwarves to walk side by side. The ceiling here was about fifteen feet high, giving plenty of room even for someone of Skardi's size.

But it was the air that caught Einar's attention. It was different. Heavier. He could taste minerals on his tongue with each breath. The scent of earth and stone was overwhelming, mixed with something else he couldn't quite identify.

"That smell," Osvif said, wrinkling his nose. "What is that?"

"Goblins," Bartia said flatly. "They mark their territory with waste and rot. If you can smell them, they're close."

Stefi was already moving to the center tunnel, studying the ground. "Fresh tracks. Multiple sets. They were here within the last day."

Einar moved to join her. The stone floor showed scratches and marks. Clawed feet had scraped across the surface, leaving grooves in the rock. There were dozens of tracks, all heading deeper into the mountain.

"How many?" Einar asked.

"Impossible to say," Stefi replied. "Goblins don't walk in neat lines. They scramble and climb. Could be ten. Could be fifty."

Yulgas joined them, his expression grim. "The ore we need is down the center tunnel. About two miles in, there's a junction. The main vein runs through that area. We need to secure it and hold it long enough to mine at least three carts' worth."

"And the goblins won't just let us waltz in and start digging," Thorodd said.

"No," Yulgas agreed. "They won't."

Einar turned to face his warriors. Forty Vikings stood ready, their weapons in hand, their eyes reflecting the dim rune light. They looked dangerous. They looked prepared.

"Listen closely," Einar said, his voice carrying across the platform. "Goblins hunt in the dark. They strike from unexpected angles. They'll try to separate us, pick us off one by one. So we stay together. No one wanders off. No one plays hero. We move as a pack, we fight as a pack, and we survive as a pack."

He paused, meeting each leader's gaze. "Pack leaders, keep your sections tight. Healers are in the middle of each group. Skardi, your section takes point with me. Thorodd, you've got the rear. Avitue, Vidar, Jepi, you three keep the center secure."

Nods all around.

"Yulgas, Bartia, Stefi—you three know these tunnels. If you see something that looks wrong, say it. We trust your experience down here."

The three dwarves acknowledged his words.

Einar drew one of his axes, the familiar weight reassuring in his hand. "Remember, we came here for a reason. The dwarves need ore. We need their metal. Both require us to walk into the belly of this mountain and face whatever's waiting."

He turned toward the center tunnel. The darkness beyond the rune light seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Somewhere in that blackness, creatures waited. Creatures that struck from shadows and vanished before retaliation could come.

"Let's go show them why you don't mess with Vikings."

As they entered the tunnel, the temperature shifted again. The oppressive heat from before was gone, replaced by a cold that settled into bones. The rune light from the platform faded behind them, and the darkness ahead seemed absolute.

Stefi moved to the front, a glowing crystal in his hand. The light it cast was weak but enough to see twenty feet ahead. The tunnel was rougher here than the shaft they had descended. The walls showed pick marks, evidence of dwarven work, but also natural formations where the stone had been left untouched.

The sound of their footsteps echoed off the walls. Metal scraped against stone. Leather creaked. Breathing became the loudest thing in the silence.

After ten minutes of walking, Stefi raised his hand. Everyone stopped.

"There," the dwarf whispered, pointing to the wall on their left.

Einar squinted, trying to see what the dwarf had noticed. Then he saw it. Scratch marks. Fresh ones. They ran along the wall about seven feet up, too high for a dwarf or Viking to reach while walking.

"They were on the ceiling," Bartia said quietly. "They do that sometimes. Climb along the top and drop on their prey."

Einar looked up. The ceiling was rough stone, full of handholds and crevices. Perfect for something that could climb.

"Eyes up," he commanded. "Watch the ceiling as much as the walls."

They moved forward again, slower now. Every shadow seemed to hold a threat. Every sound made someone twitch.

The tunnel began to widen. After another few minutes, it opened into a chamber. This one was natural, a cavern that the dwarves had simply connected to with their mining. Stalactites hung from the ceiling like stone teeth. The floor was uneven, covered in loose rocks and debris.

And there, in the dim light cast by Stefi's crystal, Einar saw them.

Tracks. Dozens of them. All leading into a tunnel on the far side of the cavern.

But it was what lay in the center of the chamber that made everyone stop.

Bones.

A pile of bones, picked clean, stacked in a manner that spoke of intelligence. Not random. Not scattered. Arranged.

"A warning," Yulgas said, his voice tight. "They're telling us this is their territory."

Einar studied the bones. Most were too large to be dwarf or human. Some kind of animal, perhaps. But mixed among them were pieces that looked disturbingly familiar. A skull with a jawline too square to be anything but humanoid.

"How long since dwarves worked this area?" Einar asked.

"Two years," Yulgas replied. "We lost a crew down here. Six dwarves. They were never recovered."

The silence that followed was heavy.

"Then we're not just here for ore," Einar said quietly. "We're here to make sure no one else ends up like them."

He looked at the tunnel across the chamber. The darkness beyond seemed to writhe, as if alive. Somewhere in there, creatures waited. Creatures that had killed dwarven miners and made this place their home.

Creatures that were about to learn Vikings didn't scare easily.

"Forward," Einar commanded. "Stay alert. Stay ready. And remember—we don't leave until the job is done."

As they crossed the chamber, stepping carefully around the bone pile, Einar felt the weight of the mountain above them. Felt the darkness pressing in from all sides. Felt the eyes watching from unseen places.

The real fight was about to begin.