From Death to Valhalla (The Last Einherjar Book 1)

by Randall P. Fitzgerald

  Erik ripped his hand away from her. “Tove—”

  She threw her hands up, spinning away, walking back to her chair. “Again with the girl. She is not yours and if she were, her punishment is not complete.”

  “And why does she have to be punished? Some part of your covenant?”

  Ásví sat back down. “No. Those laws are my own. Those who bring comfort to the chosen are inviting destruction on my city.”

  “Your husband’s city, you mean.”

  She shot up from the chair, shrieking, “My city!” She calmed herself, brushing her dress into place, and walked over to Erik. She slapped him across the face as hard as she could manage, drawing blood as an overturned ring tore across his cheek. She took a deep breath. “This does not need to be our relationship, Haki Erik Styrsson. You are einherjar. Not some simple chosen. My men have seen it and I will see it for myself soon enough. I would have my hand in your greatness. And if I cannot, I will do all that I can to make you like him.” She nodded toward the wall to Haki’s cell. “Enjoy your reward and think on my kindness.”

  She turned then, going to the door. It opened before she got to it, the men forming columns for her to pass by. A guard came in and took the chair as the rest of the procession made their way down the hall. No one bothered closing the door to his cell and they left more quickly than they came.

  They left the mattress and Erik went over to it after shutting the door. He left it on the floor and pressed over the length of it, suspicious that it might contain something dangerous. He was unsure whether to be disappointed or elated when it turned out to be just a normal mattress. No part of him wanted to accept comfort from Ásví, not after her threats. Even without them, it was clear she had plans for him that weren’t built around his concerns.

  Another meal was brought shortly after Ásví had left. It was the closest they’d brought food in such a short span. Her threat repeated in his brain as he looked over the food. It may have been something else. Another gift so that he would consider how kind she was, maybe. He could find no reason to skip the meal if they intended to feed him. There was no strange smell or taste to it and Erik couldn’t imagine Ásví was the sort to derive entertainment from poisoning him alone in his cell.

  He was only a few minutes past finishing the meal when he heard the sounds of the large procession coming down the hall again. His door swung open and the familiar columns were in their place, oddly with swords drawn. And men in full plate armor came in. It was a piece of armor he hadn’t seen on anyone, even when he fled across the yard.

  “Ásví has sent for you.” The man’s voice was muffled by the heavy helmet, but Erik was sure he’d heard it properly.

  He stood up and the man in full plate took a step out of the way of the door so that Erik could pass by. There were more guards in the room than came with Ásví. It was strange, but there must have been a reason. A second man in plate moved ahead of him and the columns formed to his sides. He was boxed in as they walked down the hallway toward the administrative room. Was this how they moved the prisoners? Would the valkyries ignore them?

  They came to the door that led to the yard. All at once the man in heavy armor tore it open, rushing out of the way. Before Erik could grasp what was happening, the man in full plate behind him dove into his back, forcing him out of the door into the yard. The door shut behind him as he slid across the stone beneath.

  He was to his feet as the hissing came into his ears. He looked up to see Hrist and Mist already charging. The longer-haired held the spear in her off hand, but it wouldn’t have mattered. The searing blades plunged into his chest before he could move. The air up through his throat felt like fire. They pulled the blades out and pushed them in again, through his stomach. They were pulled free once more and Erik fell forward. He looked across the yard and saw Ásví standing in the center, staring. There was a scowl on her face like she’d never shown in the cell.

  He felt the weight of a scalding hot maul land on his back. A radiant wave of pain poured through him before his body fell limp. His limbs refused to move and he knew that he would wake in agony. He clenched his jaw, using the last of his strength to look up at the valkyries who stared down at him with angry eyes. It was their revenge and they wanted him to know it. They never looked away as he bled to death on cold stone he could no longer feel.

  chapter|16

  Pain was, for once, something Erik was more than happy to be able to feel. It didn’t stop him from screaming or tears from pooling and falling, but he knew that what the valkyries had done had been undone when he returned to the stone room.

  Ásví had proven a point, that much was clear to him in the hours he was forced to lie in the bed. When his mind cleared enough that he could form thoughts, his head flooded instead with incoherent rage and plans for revenge. They didn’t leave, even well after the pain subsided enough that he could once again sit himself up. He saw the rolled mattress exactly where he left it.

  He chuckled, in spite of himself. “Give with one hand…”

  There was an immense feeling of weight on his lower back, or at least his brain told him there was. It didn’t stop him from standing, but there was no way he could manage to walk cleanly. A few weak attempts to waddle around ended with him losing his balance to one side or another and Erik decided it would be better to wait a bit longer to try and get himself around.

  The futility of walking brought a bit of clarity into his head, at least. He knew he would have to escape and there was nothing to do except play against the woman who’d sent him to be slaughtered. What she must have expected was to have her actions serve as a sort of warning. “Look what I can do to you,” she seemed to be saying. The more Erik thought about it the more he decided that it must have been how she considered the action. She’d seen Haki and whoever else had been in the prison die hundreds or thousands of times and likely thought nothing of having Erik killed. There was only one way forward from that if he wanted to act outside of her expectations and that was all out war. He couldn’t give her any warning of it and he knew what his first move would be, but they couldn’t come immediately.

  He’d broken the valkyrie’s arm. He knew that now. He’d seen her favor it. It meant they didn’t heal immediately, even if they were some aspect of Odin. He didn’t know why, but it worked well enough for his purposes. It was why the guards were terrified before. They would fight him, but how many times? If he could find the speed and strength that he had against the valkyries, he could handle any number of guards, but it was fleeting and mercurial to say the very least. It came on from nowhere and left before he’d finished the fight.

  Haki was shuffling around in his cell and Erik was tired of idling. He stood up and walked himself slowly to his door. It felt for all the world like he was bruised down to the bone all across his chest. The ache was bad enough without the weight that seemed to be on his back, urging him to want to correct against a force that only the higher part of his brain knew wasn’t there. He left his cell, finding no new guards had been assigned to him and that there was no extra noise in the halls. Ásví really must have expected him to take it as a warning and leave it there.

  Erik dragged himself to Haki’s cell door. He could feel the look on his face and knew that entering with such an expression would only scare the broken old warrior. That wasn’t his intention. He needed more than Haki likely had to give and he intended to try his best to drag it out.

  The handle turned and Haki was pacing around the middle of the cell in small circles. He stopped, looking at Erik with a confused face.

  “Neigh… bor?”

  Erik nodded. “Haki. I, uh… I came here to talk to you, o’ great warrior.” It wasn’t a convincing first effort.

  “What… what trick is this?”

  He shook his head, walking slowly into the room. “It’s not a trick. I want to know about you. I heard stories. I don’t know how to talk
about these things, but I respect you.”

  Haki narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “R-Respect? How? Why?”

  “I heard that you…” He had no idea how to phrase it so Haki would go along. “I heard you, um, felled many men. Great warriors.”

  Haki’s posture turned toward Erik the slightest bit. “You… you know… the stories? My stories?”

  “I want to know them.”

  There was half of a crooked smile on Haki’s face. “I ha-haven’t… in ages.”

  “I want to be like you, Haki. Strong and manly and brave.”

  It was only half a lie. Erik was beginning to understand what it took to become like Haki. To rise every day and go face torture when you could sleep and eat. Somewhere he lost to it all, but he was still a man worthy of respect.

  Something in Haki’s eyes cleared just the least bit. “You would…” He hacked, gritting his teeth and slapping at his neck. “…be a fool… to wish it.” He sucked in a breath and bored into Erik with cold, dark eyes. A second later the hazy look returned. “Stories… was it?”

  Erik narrowed his eyes. “How did you learn to move so fast?”

  Haki laughed his slow, ratcheting laugh. “Learned?” He coughed. “Touch of… Odin.” He drew in a breath. “Makes a… a man… what he was meant… to be.” He squealed low and soft, delighted by Erik’s interest. “A… warrior. Great… warrior.”

  “But it’s hard to feel, right? It slips away?”

  The man slid slowly toward Erik, shaking his head slowly. “Nothing… hard… for a warrior. A firm grasp… is crucial.” He wrapped bony fingers around Erik’s arm, squeezing tight. His eyes cleared again. “Does it… slip from you… boy?” Haki sniffed the air. “You’re… no warrior. Leave me… be.” A wide, vacant grin spread across Haki’s face. He slapped Erik on the arm and began a slow awkward dance around. “Killed… so many,” he wheezed. “A great… warrior.”

  Erik left the room, closing the door. He stood outside, staring aimlessly at the walls. Behind him, Haki shuffled a dance without rhythm, singing incoherently about his prowess. Whatever Erik thought he had gone into the room for, he’d come out with nothing. The whole tiny world inside Ásví’s walls was built to make a stacked game that he was forced to play. The mattress was proof of it. The gruel must have been as well. A warning before he knew there was a game to even play. And Tove.

  His stomach was on fire, angry at the farce he was stuck in. Before he knew it, he was walking down the hall toward the fork. Without so much as a second’s hesitation, he rounded the corner. The guards’ eyes widened as he closed on them. They scrambled back, drawing their swords. It was slow, but Erik knew there was more in him. Where was it? He wanted to scream.

  “Stop right there, einherjar! You can’t—”

  The guard was drowned out by the battle cry of the other, who charged at Erik, sword overhead. He slashed down, Erik moving to the side and the sword clanging against the stone beneath, throwing the man off balance. Erik planted a fist into the side of the man’s chain armor. A muffled crackle sounded somewhere beneath his fist and the attacking guard rolled away under the power in the punch.

  The battle cry became screams of pain and the other guard decided there would be no more discussion. He charged at Erik. It was slow at first, but the feeling in his mind slipped away and the blade suddenly came speeding toward him. It caught the edge of Erik’s arm, pulling a chunk of meat off just above his elbow. The pain flared and the man slowed again. Erik sunk a fist into the man’s chest, collapsing it and sending the guard off his feet and a dozen yards through the air. There was no sound from him other than the clatter of his body on the stones.

  The pain from the cut on his arm was enough to make him forget the pain of walking, so he was thankful to the guard for that in some way. As he passed the silent guard, he saw that his body was dissolving toward the ground. It dissipated as it went, taking anything touching his skin along with him. A chain vest, boots, and a belt remained when the body was gone. Erik looked at them, realizing he’d never seen the other side of death in Helheim. He lifted the chain vest. It was too large for him, but he pulled it over his head, jogging now toward the end of the hall.

  There were only six rooms in the cells at the end of the hall and of those only one remained shut. It was latched with a wooden bar. Erik flipped the bar up out of the way and worked the handle, swinging it open. The cell was small and smelled awful. He couldn’t see Tove, so he took a step in.

  She was in a corner, braced against the wall, staring with terrified eyes at him as he came in. “You’ll never get a sound out of my—” When she realized it was Erik she stopped. He heard her whimper. “Erik!” She began to cry as he came over to her.

  “Can you walk?”

  “It hurt, Erik. It hurt so much.”

  As he reached down to put his arms under her to lift her she grabbed at him.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  Erik nodded. “I killed them. One of them. We’re not done.”

  She smiled for a second, wincing when he lifted her up.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded, wiping her face. “I’ll kill the others if you hand me something to stick ‘em with.”

  “Good, because I’m pretty sure my arm is fucked.”

  He started toward the door, jogging as best he could. Tove was gritting her teeth and trying to hold herself as still as she could by bracing against him. He’d have walked if he could. Back in the hall, there was still no one new to bother him.

  “He’s takin’ the girl!” He groaned. “Someone put steel in this bastard! Hey!”

  Erik put a foot in his ribs on the way by, not stopping to bother with anything else. The man yelped and curled up but stopped his yelling. There were men coming by the time he got to the fork, more than a few and some dressed in full plate. He rounded the corner, never having intended to do anything else, and ran as fast as he could manage back to the cell.

  He could hear the clatter of armor behind him as he dropped Tove on the stone.

  “Sorry, no time!”

  He spun, whipping the door shut. He gripped the handle as tightly as he could, leaning himself against the stone wall beside it, crouching down so as not to be in the way of anything they might try to stick through the bars. The first set of guards arrived and tried the handle twice.

  “He’s got it held shut!”

  “Move!” Another in heavier armor stepped up, yanking on the handle, but he was forced to pull it up to open the door and Erik had the better leverage. He yanked for half a minute before giving up and sticking his head to the bars. “If you don’t let us in—”

  “Go fuck yourselves, morons! No one’s coming in here.” Erik was breathing heavy, terrified and ecstatic and completely without a plan for what to do next.

  He hoped their side of the handle would break first if it came to that, but they might overpower him eventually. Whatever gave him strength had no interest in his holding the handle. He looked over at Tove, a smile on his face as the guards outside decided what to do. She was looking with deep concern between him and the barred window in the door.

  “Hey!”

  She turned her focus to him.

  Erik nodded toward the mattress. “Get some rest on that.”

  Tove’s eyes moved over to the mattress and then immediately back to him, astonished at the suggestion.

  “What? I got this. Just, you know, quick nap.”

  She laughed, regretting it immediately, and then crawled her way over to the mattress. They started pulling at the handle again as she laid it out. It was in the far corner, well away from any of the trouble at the door.

  Having failed to pull the handle open, they started in with the swords, poking their blades through, coming nowhere near him. A spear would be too steep an angle, they all agreed before cursing whoever had decided that the
doors should swing out from the cells.

  The numbers on the guards began to drop after the first few minutes, several staying behind. They had discussed things and decided that Ásví needed to give them instructions on what they should do. They’d given up trying to pull on the handle but hadn’t left the cell alone just yet.

  “Don’t reckon she’ll let them valkyries down, do you?” There was fear in the guard’s voice.

  The other of the remaining two guards was unconcerned. “Nah, they ain’t allowed down these parts. ‘Sides, why’d she put valkyries in here just to pull open a door? He can waste in there all I care.”

  They pulled a few more times, absently, but Erik held the door shut. Another guard returned, calling the remaining guards over. He couldn’t hear the conversation well, but all three took their leave of the main area. He was unwilling to believe they’d gone for the first half hour, but eventually Erik risked standing. He looked into the main area and saw no one there. After allowing himself a small stretch, he sat back down beside the door and put his hands back on the handle.

  Tove was sleeping peacefully on the mattress. He watched her for a while, glad to have her in the cell for his sake almost as much as her own. He hadn’t realized how unbearable the time had been until he looked at her. There was no warmth, nothing worth smiling over or enjoying. He blamed himself for waiting.

  The regular rounds came by as normal and the guards spent a few minutes yanking on the door. They left after, seemingly unconcerned that they’d failed to get in and do whatever Ásví wanted them to. They were likely counting on him sleeping and Erik had no good way around it. He hadn’t intended on working around it at all, only on buying enough time that Tove might be able to walk on her own. He could manage that much, he knew it.

  A second round of guards came through an hour or two later, pulling at the handle in turns. It wasn’t easy on Erik’s arms, especially not with the pain of the bit that had been cut off. The wound had stopped bleeding, at least, but it did him no favors. They waited around for far less time after failing to pull the door free, leaving him time to rest his arms. They had sent only men in armor to try the door. It made sense, considering what he’d done to the guards, but it gave him more than enough warning.