From Death to Valhalla (The Last Einherjar Book 1)

by Randall P. Fitzgerald

  Another group came, this time louder than the last. They were shouting, riled up. When they came close enough Erik could tell they were drunk.

  “A’right! Firs’ one gets ‘im outta that shitbox, gets a look at Ásví’s tits.”

  The men all laughed and then cheered.

  “So hoos up firs’?”

  “Aye!” a man shouted.

  Erik couldn’t see any of them and he had no intention of looking, especially not now. The noise had woken Tove up and she stood up, shakily, moving herself over to him. The first man began to yank as Erik noticed her.

  “You can walk? Great.”

  She angled her head around him, looking up at the door. “How many are there?”

  Erik focused on keeping his grip tight against the pull of the handle. “Dunno. I think they turned me into a drinking game. Could be at this for a while.”

  The man yanking the door gave up and all the men laughed at him.

  “I’ll not hear a laugh at me! Le’s see you fucks pull it open then! He’s a bear’s strength, I swear it!”

  They booed him and the next man came to try. It went on in turn for longer than Erik was happy about. They began playing other games, only pulling at the door when they were bored. The noise grew, though, rather than died. More men joined.

  It had been nearly three hours and Erik’s hands were red, worn raw from the wood dragging against his skin. The men had just finished a song and were about to begin another when Erik heard a strange noise.

  It was a horn. A warning, loud, deep, and close. The men all hushed, before a panic set in among them. He heard them go rushing out of the room in complete disorder. The room outside was quiet, only the sound of mail jangling down the hall. He called for Tove to check the door. She did.

  “Empty. They’ve all gone.”

  Erik stood up, looking out the door himself. The sound of the clattering armor had faded and the horn winded. In the space between one sound of warning and the next, a noise flooded into the room. A noise Erik had heard before, only briefly.

  It was the booming sound of stone collapsing onto stone.

  chapter|17

  The noise was too far away to have come from the far end of the tunnel and there likely would have been dust. Erik kept his eyes locked on the room through the bars in the door. There were a few swords that had been left behind. He was still not entirely convinced that this wasn’t some plan by Ásví to trick him. The horn sounded again, this time cut short. A half second after it stopped, another boom roared into the cells. There was no reason to wait, he decided, so he turned to Tove.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  He turned the handle and pushed the door open, running as quickly as he could to the two nearest swords, throwing them into the cell. He stood up to return to the cell when he heard screams. Not shouts of battle, but the sounds of dying men. They were coming from the end of the hall. The distinctive shift of chain mail sounded, beating a feverish rhythm toward them. Erik didn’t wait to see what the man was fleeing, but he had a guess. He made it back into the cell as he heard the man scream, begging for his life. The door closed and he latched it, grabbing a sword and kicking the other to Tove before spinning to face the door. There was no point in holding it shut, not now.

  The hall went silent again and he heard something he hadn’t expected. It was Haki. He was making a sort of high squeal. Erik heard the door to Haki’s cell open and the man walked out.

  “She’s… come back… for me! Finally!” He wheezed, his voice elated. “To see… see me to… Valhalla! Heeee!” The noise was inhuman, an uneven, manic screech forced through an unruly throat. “Come back… for Haki!”

  Erik ran to the door, looking out the bars. Haki started what must have been the nearest thing to a run he could manage, and Erik followed him over to see Göll come from the hallway. His mouth dropped open. Her armor was torn and she was bleeding from her arms and from a deep cut above her eye. They were sealing visibly in just the short time he’d seen her.

  Haki ran to her and she slapped him away, forcing the broken man against the far wall. It would have killed anyone else, but Haki climbed to his knees, he said nothing but Erik could see on the twitching face that his world was shattering all over again.

  Göll looked at him for a moment, not sure what exactly to make of the man. Erik could see a wave of recognition slowly come across her face which was replaced by a look of pity.

  Erik wasted no time opening the door when she turned to face it. He kept his sword in hand, unsure if she had come to see him out or to join her sisters in their slaughter.

  “Been a while.”

  Göll nodded. “We have little time.”

  Erik looked at Tove who stood against the wall nearest the door, sword ready to ambush whoever was fool enough to come into the cell. Erik wasn’t convinced.

  “Why are you here?”

  The answer was the same as it had ever been. “I have come to guide you to Valhalla.”

  He looked at Tove and nodded. She came to stand beside him in the cell and Göll’s eyes opened. There was a flash of confusion.

  “What is that?”

  It wasn’t the most polite way to phrase things. “Tove. She’s…” He lacked for a better way of saying it. “We’re a warband.”

  Göll shook her head firmly. “No. You should not have a warband. You are sworn to Odin. She cannot accompany us.”

  “I’m sworn to exactly fucking nobody, Göll. And she’s coming with us.”

  “Odin will—”

  “Odin will go suck a dick, for all I care. He’s had his sky cunts cutting holes in me—”

  Tove punched him weakly in the arm, though her face suggested she’d meant it seriously. “Do not speak ill of the Allfather! Show respect.”

  Erik was confused that she chose that point in time to argue with him, considering that the discussion was over whether she would rot in a sadist woman’s prison.

  “She’s coming.”

  Erik said nothing else and walked out of the cell. Tove followed him, keeping close. She kept herself behind him, but it did little to stop Göll from staring at her. When Erik spoke the valkyrie returned her attention to him.

  “We leaving or what?”

  Göll nodded stiffly and turned, starting down the hallway. There was no limp or hesitation in her walk, but she had clearly been in a fight with Hrist and Mist. There were pieces of remaining chain mail in the hallway where she had cut down the men who attempted to flee from her and Erik tensed. He could remember their talks in the motel, how she’d seemed almost human underneath her stern manner. Now it was hard to see much beyond a valkyrie.

  Tove stumbled behind him, interrupting his attempts to figure out exactly what Göll was to him. He turned.

  “I’m carrying you.”

  She frowned. “I can walk.”

  “And if we need to run?” She looked away. “That’s what I thought.”

  He picked her up, something which Tove was happy to huff about in spite of her body not having healed itself in the few short hours since he’d managed to rescue her. If it could be called a rescue. He was being rescued by Göll more than he’d rescued Tove or himself.

  The administrative hall had a half dozen pieces of plate and chain strewn around it. There was blood on nearly every surface in the room. It was as much of a horrific scene as Erik had witnessed, until Göll pushed open the door. It swung open on one lazy hinge, revealing a yard full of spilled blood and limbs and chunks of flesh. He wondered why they hadn’t dissipated until he properly looked around. Many of those who’d been dismembered or disemboweled were still alive, lying in heaps. Every building in the yard had been destroyed, along with large spans of the walls. There were large fires in several of the collapsed areas and he swore he could hear screaming from under the rocks. It dawned on him that they’
d likely slept there.

  “Nowhere left to go,” he mumbled. “Jesus.”

  Göll scanned the yard and increased her speed to a jog. Erik kept pace with her, awkward as it was with Tove in his arms, and they exited to the street. Massive crowds had gathered since the noise had stopped but none of them moved into the yard. The people parted as quickly as they could when Göll moved toward the square, some clamoring in a panic to do so.

  The valkyrie didn’t even seem to notice them as she walked past. Near the statue in the center of the town square was a cart pulled by two impressively large horses. It was far from the only horse-drawn thing trapped in the square, just the one nearest the line that Göll was taking through the crowds. Erik realized she may have been moving for the cart intentionally. Even as the crowd began screaming, the horses at the head kept their calm and, in fact, seemed almost entirely uninterested in the goings on around them. The driver saw her approaching and, rather than signal the horses, he abandoned the cart. Göll climbed up into the driver’s seat and turned to Erik. She didn’t say anything, just watched him carefully as he loaded Tove into the back of the cart.

  When he’d loaded her in, Erik came to the front and took a seat beside Göll. She snapped the reins on the horses and they started moving slowly through the steadily parting crowd. The screams and shouts died and turned to quiet staring, at least in the area near to their cart. Even as slow as they’d been walking, he hadn’t felt nervous until he was perched on the cart, slowly pacing through the crowd at the behest of the horses.

  “Is this safe? Aren’t we a little exposed?”

  “We have time. This will be faster soon enough.”

  Göll scanned the sky, which made believing what she’d said just the slightest bit harder to do. They cleared the crowd and picked up speed through the main streets. People heard them coming well enough in advance to be out of the way by the time the cart thundered past. The wind across his face filled him with excitement even as the threat of the other valkyries coming weighed on his mind. They would be clear of the city soon, and he couldn’t be more elated. It had started out as such a pleasant place.

  They were at the edge of town, Göll showing no intention of slowing down as guards turned to look. For a moment, it seemed as though they might try to stop the horses, but the men parted, perhaps deciding that if trouble was leaving the city it was not worth stopping. Or it may have been recognition of Göll’s armor. Whatever the reason, they were outside of Lofgrund. He felt Tove’s hand on his back for a brief moment. He turned and saw her sitting with her back to him, the city walls shrinking slowly. He put a hand on her head and felt her shaking beneath it. She buried her head in her knees, crying too quiet for him to hear over the sound of the horses.

  He turned to Göll who looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

  “So, why’d you come back?”

  Göll frowned, not with any sense of malice or anger. “I cannot pass so easily from one realm to another as a human who’s died. It is natural for you to come to Helheim. You are welcome here.”

  “So you never left me behind.”

  She nodded, turning to look at him. There was regret in her expression. “I meant to prepare you. I knew you would be alone for a time. I worried when you died,” she looked back at the road, “that Vár’s influence would have tainted you. But when I arrived back in Helheim, I could still feel you.” She put a hand over her heart. “Somehow I felt you even more strongly. It’s… strange. You must have lived well in your time here.”

  “That’s strange?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “No. There… I have chosen before you. The others, no matter how they lived, there was no change.”

  Erik thought of Haki, but couldn’t bring himself to mention the man or ask her about him. Had he been one of her chosen? Had she abandoned him? There was a way of asking that she might answer.

  “What if I had dishonored myself, or whatever you’d call it?”

  “You would be unfit for Valhalla and the unworthy…” She paused. “There is no need for them.”

  It was unsatisfying, like so many answers he’d received, but Erik was not interested in pressing the issue. To his surprise, even though he had intended on riding quietly for a while, Göll spoke to him.

  “Why have you taken on a follower?”

  “Sorry? Follower?”

  “The girl. She cannot enter Valhalla. She cannot accompany you to the feast or to battle.”

  “Why would she need to do that?”

  Göll looked at him, perplexed. “You said you were a warband. And you lead it?”

  “Yeah, I lead it, sure.”

  “She has agreed to that?”

  “Maybe? It was her idea. Why should I argue?”

  Göll slowed the horses to a stop and stood. She turned to Tove. “Stand, girl.”

  Tove spun around, terrified, and crawled away. “Why? What is this? Erik?”

  Erik put an arm out in front of Göll who slapped it away.

  “I have questions for this human. Why did you form a warband with him? Surely you know the meaning.”

  Tove backed herself up against the far edge of the cart. “I did. What of it? He is no slave.” Her voice shook, betraying the nerves underneath the front she was putting on.

  Erik was losing his temper. “One of you explain this, seriously.”

  Göll’s jaw clenched, her eyes boring into Tove with intense focus.

  Tove looked at him, her expression softening, asking for pity. “A warband is an ancient thing. It is as much a family as one of blood.”

  Erik could not understand the look on her face or her repentant tone. He looked to Göll who was seething.

  “And?”

  Göll spoke. “They cannot be broken.” She took a step toward the rear of the cart, Erik stopping her. “Tell me girl, who is your god?”

  Tove found her voice for the first time. “Odin, the Allfather.”

  Göll spit at the side of the cart. “Then you knew.”

  “I knew!”

  Erik shouted, stopping them both. “One of you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

  Göll properly turned her attention to him for the first time since they’d stopped. “She has attached herself to you that she might come to Valhalla unchosen.”

  He understood enough to know that was something complicated. And that he was likely to be held responsible for it. Tove stood up.

  “I knew, Erik. I’m sorry. Odin protected me in life and I wish to serve him!”

  Göll barked, as angry as he’d ever seen her. “You do not choose how you serve the Allfather!”

  Tove curled away from Göll’s words defensively, but said nothing else. Erik was lost for how he was meant to feel. He couldn’t know the gravity of things, but they were not nearly far enough from Lofgrund for him to feel comfortable sitting in the middle of the road any longer.

  “Is this something we can solve here, Göll?”

  He watched her swallow her frustration and return to her seat, taking up the reins. He turned and sat without another word and Göll snapped at the horses. They started their trot and Erik settled into the seat. The things he didn’t know were beginning to be so much more than an inconvenience. They’d ridden for a few hours before he could no longer hold the question.

  “What will happen if she comes to Valhalla?”

  Göll didn’t answer for several minutes. “If…” She did not seem to want to say it. “If she is found worthy as your follower, she will be allowed in.”

  “And if not?”

  “She will be destroyed.”

  The word choice was one Erik couldn’t imagine was flippant. She had meant the word as it sounded. There was no more talking as the heat of the early evening dipped into the balm of a humid night. The plains gave way to hills and empty land to forests. The night p
assed, Erik finding only an hour of rest. The sun rose again and in the afternoon the air began to dry and the temperature drifted slowly down. They stopped only briefly, the horses showing no real sign of tiring in spite of their near constant work.

  Tove came to him while they were stopped, nervous to say anything. “I am sorry.”

  Erik held in a breath, unsure what he was supposed to feel. He let it go all at once. “I don’t know what to say, Tove. I don’t know what any of it means. She said you’d be destroyed.”

  She nodded. “And likely, you will be mocked for having tried to bring someone unwilling.” She perked up, forcing a smile. “But I intend on being worthy!”

  “And if you’re not?”

  The thought of it seemed to rush over her, replaced by the same forced smile. “I have you. You are amazing, Erik. You seem to know innately what you must do, even Göll has admitted it. She said she felt you more strongly. It’s proof! I will follow you and work to live as you do.”

  Erik weakly worked out an exhausted laugh. “I know what to do, right. That’s pure fantasy. I just do whatever stupid thing flies into my brain.”

  She punched him, more firmly than she had before. “Do not talk ill of my warchief.”

  He smiled and Tove did as well, a genuine smile. She returned to the cart ahead of him, sinking back into the rear, a look of worry settling on her face. Göll said nothing when he came back to his seat. She had heard the entire conversation, he knew that much, but she only slapped the reins and let the horses begin to do their work.

  As evening came on, the leaves had begun to turn to yellow and light green. It was perhaps a few hours before dark when Göll pulled the horses to a stop.

  She stood and stepped down to the road below, looking up at him. “We are near enough to walk.”