BTtNR - Book 3 - Chapter 027 -

“You Vikings are a crazy bunch,” Varanda said. “Each day I wonder how many more of you are going to die when you frolic off down another tunnel, searching for something to kill.”

Bartia started to chuckle and Einar shrugged as he studied the female dwarf, one of the guards for the dwarven shipment.  Her red hair was like fire and the fact that Skardi was only a few inches shorter might have made someone think she was a Viking from behind.

Except for the fact that she’s twice as thick as Skardi.

“Unlike you dwarves, we need these items to get stronger. Trust me, I have no desire to let a Fjell-Skraeling scratch my flesh off me.”

The dwarf shuddered and shook her head, taking a long drink from her mug afterwards.

“I tried to convince her and the other two that it would be worth their time and coin purse if they helped, but none of them wanted to risk death.”

“Bah, that’s because you’re so young,” Varanda shot back at Bartia. “When you’ve seen the things I’ve seen, and lived as long as I have, you don’t go running down a tunnel shouting for Odin or any other god. No instead you sit back and bet on how many will die with the others.”

Avitue chuckled and elbowed him slightly, motioning with her head at the two dwarves.

“For a moment, I’d think you two were sisters the way you both always argue.”

Each woman frowned and glared at her.

“Bah she’s a hothead,” Bartia replied. “You don’t get the last name of Magmaminer without being crazy.”

Varanda jumped to her feet and pointed a thick finger at their dwarven ally.

“You best not be talking bad about my family or I’ll give you a beating like you haven’t had before.”

As the pair of dwarves stood, each getting in the other’s space, neither taller than the other, Einar finally intervened.

“The way you two are acting I’d think you are Vikings. Now stop it or I’ll report one of you for picking a fight and the other one will sit with the wagons and miss out on the spoils.”

As one the pair spun on their heels and glowered at him.

“You can narrow those bushy eyebrows at me all you want, but I’m serious. Gromm told me that you three are the best warriors to help defend the shipment that needs to reach your people. I’d hate to inform him that what I got was a dwarf whose feelings got hurt over words. Perhaps I should remind you both about what happened to Orin because he lost his temper.”

Before his heart could beat twice, both dwarves burst into laughter and gave the other a playful swipe.

“Oh, we still laugh about that,” Varanda said, wiping a forming tear. “That poor fool. It seems the rumors of you are correct, Einar Sibbison. Forgive me for my actions. Perhaps I shall venture with you and your warriors in the next tunnel you take.”

Sighing, Bartia made a slight groan as she let it out.

“And forgive me for slandering your family name. Too much time with these Vikings has made me hotheaded.”

Both dwarves began to move off, laughing and talking, their voices echoing down the passage as they headed toward the wagons.

“Well, that was… interesting,” Avitue said as she moved closer toward him, pulling a fur over her. “Are you certain dwarves don’t feel the effects of being underground? I can’t stand how cold it is or that we don’t even have a real fire to sit next to.”

Einar pulled her closer, held out his hand and drew upon his wyrd to engulf it in flames.

“That blue light from the lantern was a unique experience the first night, but I get what you're saying after a week of sitting by it.  Still we have limited wood and that’s used for the water and food.  Also, you’re not the only one complaining about it. Thorve mentioned to me that three warriors came to her yesterday… or whatever day it is, all of them moody and frustrated.”

“More than usual?”

He nodded and smiled.

“Try to get some rest. You and your maidens have guard duty in a few hours.”

“And what about you, my love? Are you going to rest?”

Studying the flames that fluttered slightly, Einar searched for an answer.

“I will once you fall asleep.”

She snuggled closer to him and in moments was gone, the art of falling asleep anywhere one of the first things a Viking learned.

As he listened to her steady breathing, Einar chewed on his lip, knowing why he had been struggling to sleep the last few days. Every time he drifted off, a dream came, and it bothered him.

Leaning against the stone they were using for a back rest, he closed his eyes and let his wryd diminish, praying it didn’t come as it had before.

***

“RUN!”

His voice couldn’t hide his fear as the giant crashed through the dwarven city. It was over fifty feet tall, wore full armor, and carried weapons that easily shattered the stone buildings.

Everything they had tried to injure it with had failed.

Rubble was strewn about with Vikings and dwarves lying in bent and twisted shapes, never to rise again.

Avitue struggled to catch up, and the giant behind her raised its massive weapon over its head with both hands.

He tried to summon his wyrd again but failed. No matter how scared or angry he got, it remained out of reach. Something was preventing it and as the massive axe came downward towards the woman he loved, Einar cried out in pain, knowing her death was at hand.

***

He gasped, trying to breathe and felt the cold penetrating to his bones. A thin layer of sweat covered every part of him and Einar glanced around, seeing that no one had noticed him or how he looked.

Every night… is this some dream you’re warning me of, Odin? It feels so real.

Steadying himself, Einar drew upon his wyrd, letting the warmth it provided wash away the cold and dry the sweat that covered him.

When he was ready, he stood and moved toward the wagons they used as the basis of all discussions.

Maybe I need to talk to Thorve about these dreams.

Still trying to decide the best course of action, Einar arrived to find Thorodd and Vidar looking over their map.

“What are you two doing?”

Both Vikings glanced up and then Vidar put a finger on the rolled-out parchment.

“We think we’re here. I’ve checked with the guards again, but either more tunnels have appeared or something is off. They’re certain somehow, like a… I just know because I’m a dwarf is how that Varanda woman keeps saying, that we are right here.”

“And what’s the problem with that?” Einar asked, studying the spot being pointed at.

“Four more tunnels than are marked have been counted,” Thorodd said. “I double checked and Osvif said I was right. He mentioned that to you a few days ago, but we were waiting to make sure.”

“That tunnels are suddenly appearing?”

His second in command nodded.

“Bartia said that could happen, but Varanda informed me there haven’t been any orders to mine lately. Besides, I thought those tunnels looked a little newer, but it's hard to tell by the light of these lamps. Even the dwarves say the stone looks weathered. Almost as if it was cut from inside before reaching the pass.”

Einar frowned, understanding what the implications could mean.

“So either someone is mining without permission or something is out here, creating other tunnels to cause problems. That might explain how the tunnel we chose four days ago had nothing in it like we expected and suddenly ended.”

“Sorry, we didn’t mention it earlier,” Vidar said as he set a marker on a tunnel on the left a finger's length from where they were. “But if that’s the case, this section we’re aiming at can’t be reached by counting tunnels. We could ask our dwarven escorts when they think we’re there… but who knows if they’ll be right or not.”

Frustrated, Einar sensed that he knew the answer before he even asked the question.

“How far are we from one of these tunnels?”

“If you’re asking about one not marked,” Thorodd replied, “It’s maybe an hour back the way we came.”

“You’re not seriously thinking of backtracking in this place are you?” 

Einar shook his head and waved his finger in a circle.

“Get everyone up. We need to move out. I want to find the next tunnel we’re supposed to be at. Tighten up the lines and distance between wagons. Even better, we’ll ride two carts wide by side. And double the guards on all sides.”

“Not just the rear or the front?”

“We’re in a place where a stone troll could be standing against the walls and we’d never know it until they move. I’d rather have a little more distance between us and the walls, but let’s focus on a better defense.  Split the healers up as well. Each at the first and second third point of the caravan. And have Ragna in the middle. Thorodd you can get two more to stay with Thorvee.  Vidar, you can do the same for Kojala.”

Both men grunted and moved off as Einar took one last look at the map before rolling it up and starting to store the pieces he had brushed off it.

Odin… I’m praying that boon wasn’t because you knew things were going to get bad in here.

***

“Two more!”

Einar cursed internally, watching another set of trolls attack further back along the caravan.

The sounds of battle were everywhere. As far as he could tell, over twelve trolls had appeared at the same time, two Vikings dead before they knew the beasts had covered the distance between them and the walls in a moment.

He dodged and avoided the large stone claw that came his way, doing his best to cut it with his flaming axe.

“Be ready!” Bartia roared as she stepped behind it again, bringing her new hammer down upon the creature's back.

While only twelve feet tall, the problem with this fight was that their spears and axes did almost nothing. They only had twenty hammers, and they were all distributed around the caravan.

The troll roared and swung its left arm back at the dwarf who had struck it again, but those black eyes never stopped watching him.

A trio of deep cuts ran along its legs from his axe, the flames overcoming its protective skin enough to ensure its attention would never leave him again.

He could taste his own blood, a gash along his arm from where it had sliced him having deflected an attack with his shield. Its skin was so coarse it had created the gouged section of flesh by simply grinding against it when they clashed.

“High, low, back!!”

The troll shifted, having heard that cry before, seeming to anticipate the attack that Bartia would bring. Each time they had worked in unison, her large hammer coming down on its head while he cut at its leg.

Thick black blood bubbled and ran down its stone-molted hide as it raised an arm to protect the back of its head.

Einar darted forward using two axes, each covered in flames and swung at the extended leg.

He saw Bartia shift her weight, the two-handed hammer crashing into the lower spine above its hips and sending it forward a step.

As the troll’s right claws came at him, he easily dodged the attack, the beast now unbalanced from his partner's strike.

Two axes came as one, cleaving the unprotected knee.

His axe, gifted from the King and Queen of the elves struck true, cutting right where the joint came together, slicing off a section of flesh first while the second axe took advantage of the filleted area and carved away more.

The troll stumbled, knee buckling and slammed into the stone floor, sending up dust.

Neither waited, dwarf and Viking working in unison, bringing down their second foe of this fight.

Bartia’s hammer rang out the sound of bones crunching as she roared, driving downward upon the leg near her. Between stone and metal the appendage didn’t stand a chance.

Einar spun, flipping over a weak attempt to hit him with its left arm, no longer guarding its head.

His blades cut, spraying the area with the beast's lifeblood as he drove the flaming weapon into its exposed neck.

Even with all his power, it still only cut so deep, striking the bone and stopping.

Blood gushed forth and Einar danced to the side, cutting more hide off as the troll tried to stem the blood loss with its hand.

Twenty seconds later, it lay dead, unmoving as Bartia smashed its skull between her hammer and the stone floor.

“Go, help them, I’ve got this one,” the dwarf shouted as she spun toward a quartet of vikings struggling to fight the troll they had engaged.

He didn’t wait, running at the one another group was losing, broken spears and even a shattered axe lay on the ground near a twisted body.

Without announcing his presence, Einar came from behind, ready to send another troll soul to Hel.