From Death to Valhalla (The Last Einherjar Book 1)

by Randall P. Fitzgerald

  “You won’t hear an argument from me.”

  One of the servants laid a plate of food in front of Erik and he looked down at it. It was simpler fare than he expected, arranged neatly, though, in spite of the amount. He ate, keeping his eyes on Modgudr. The giantess turned her attention to Göll.

  “It is your first time in my hall, is it not Göll?”

  Göll did not offer an answer. The words felt almost like a provocation, even to Erik.

  “I am glad to see you here, in spite of your silence. Hearing that you felled both Hrist and Mist, putting a castle atop Ásví. We’ve spoken of it for weeks.” Modgudr leaned forward. “But I’ve heard a rumor about that as well. Erik the Chosen…” She wore a sly smile, her eyes looking him over. “Most have dismissed the idea as madness, but it is said you snapped the bone of one of Odin’s pets. Mist, if I recall. And now you sit at my table with the work of Völundr strapped to your arms. Is all of it true?”

  Erik looked up from his plate, mouth half full of food. “Sure, sounds right to me.”

  She frowned for just a moment. “I’d expected something different, but I do not dislike what you are. I will say it plain. I control those who pass across the Great Bridge Gjallarbrú. I require payment before I will allow you to cross.”

  Erik let his fork fall to the table. “That’s about par for the course. What do you want from me?”

  She held up a hand. “There is equitable trade. You help me uphold justice in my city and perhaps turn Odin’s eye toward you as you near his hall. I have a chance to deal with a man who has worn my patience thin.”

  “So, you want me to catch some guy and bring him here?”

  “I do,” Modgudr took another turkey leg and bit into it. “A man called Ljunge. He’s stolen from me, a piece of armor taken as a prize from one of the many who have tested me. The armor means little to me, but Ljunge has been a problem for quite some time. He knows this, yet he persists. I will pull off his skin for the trouble.” Her voice was entirely casual, considering her promise to flay the man. She looked at the leg with a bored expression and tossed it away. “He stays at the Calf’s Head Inn. It is in the entertainment district. Your custodian likely showed you the place.”

  “He did. But if you know where this guy is, why don’t you just have your men go get him?”

  Modgudr shrugged, leaning back and pushing on the handle of her axe. “I have decided that you will do it, and I need no more reason than that.” She stood, taking her axe. “Eat your fill and you will be taken to the rooms I’ve prepared for you.” With that, the giantess left.

  They finished eating, Tove taking several of the buttered rolls with her. The custodian entered and showed them to their rooms, stopping by the first.

  “Your room, Erik the Chosen.”

  Tove started in behind Erik and Göll and the custodian spoke up.

  “A separate room has been prepared for Honored Guest Tove.”

  Tove turned. “I won’t be sleeping away from Erik.”

  The custodian made a face but did not insist, only bowed and left after closing the door. Erik made a noise in casual surprise.

  “I half expected him to complain.”

  The room was expansive. Ceilings as high as the rest of the room with a bed that no pair of normal person could fill. There were several writing tables, a vanity, a couch, and half a dozen chairs, all in brilliant green with silver trim around the dark wood. The room itself was similarly colored, large fur rugs on the floor being the only brightly colored things in the room. Tove went to the bed and hopped onto it.

  “It’s soft!” She nearly shouted the words. “How is it so soft?!”

  Erik walked to the bed, pressing on it. It was down, most likely. “Feathers.”

  “Feathers?! It makes so much sense!” Tove rolled around on the bed. She came to a stop, looking up at Erik. “What should we do about Ljunge?”

  An annoyed sigh pulled its way out of him and he sat on the bed. “I doubt we’ll have much choice there. We’ll find this guy and drag him back here.” Erik looked at Göll. “Are we safe here?”

  She looked around the room, finding no windows, contented herself by moving to the end of the bed. “Modgudr is known to Hel. Attacking would anger Hel.”

  “Well,” Erik said, stretching. “We’ll sleep then. And figure out the rest tomorrow.”

  chapter|29

  The morning came and Göll shook Erik awake. He’d asked her to the night before, not wanting to be woken up by whoever Modgudr might send. There was enough stone between their bed and the outside that Erik had been willing to remove the grips for the first time. His skin under the leather wasn’t near as raw as he’d expected it to be and by the morning it had healed.

  He put the wraps back around his wrists. The grips had come to fit even more smoothly into his hand after the fight with the valkyries. He hadn’t even noticed that they were still on until he thought to remove them to sleep. Even though a night had passed his hands still felt odd without the leather wraps in place. There was something comforting about the constricting feel over his forearms, a stability to it.

  Clothes were a secondary thought and in the time he spent making sure the grips were well-secured onto his arms, a knock came at the door. He went to answer it, only wearing his pants and the grips. It was the custodian, carrying two sets of clothes.

  “Modgudr has seen it fit to offer you fine clothes.”

  Erik took the clothes and as he began to close the door the custodian cleared his throat with clear intention. Erik stopped.

  “An addition to your task that Modgudr regrets she could not mention at your meal together. The valkyrie can offer you no assistance in your task. If she does, you will be disallowed passage if she takes active part.” He finished his sentence and before Erik could begin a complaint, left.

  Erik shut the door, walked the garments across the room to the bed, and tossed them down. He eyed Göll.

  “You heard him?”

  “I did.”

  He returned his attention to the clothes, choosing to ignore the annoyance he felt at the added condition. There were two sets of clothes, one obviously smaller than the other. Both had pants, though the smaller pair were much looser through the legs. They were made of cotton from the feel of them. He removed his pants enthusiastically before remembering Göll was present. The valkyrie was watching him as ever. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him naked, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable even now. Her icy blue eyes always seemed to take in more than her stoic face let on. He changed quickly, pulling on the light, navy-blue coat that had come along with it. It seemed to be tailored to him specifically. He looked down at himself, dressed far more formally than he preferred, and sighed.

  “Tove, get up.”

  Tove had slept on the far edge of the bed, falling asleep well before Erik was able to. She sat up slowly, wearing the loose linen wrap of the sort she’d worn at Völundr’s. She was slow to cover up the parts that were visible from the fabric slipping, Erik turning his eyes away. She didn’t seem much to care that he was there, coming around in the wraps to look at the clothes at the edge of the bed.

  “These are for us?” She began dressing. “Turn around so I can see yours.”

  He turned and she was still dressing, her breasts exposed. Erik looked up, trying to avoid staring. He could see her glance down at her own naked chest and then back at his clothes.

  “They’re nice… soft.” She pulled at the coat and ran her hand across the fabric, doing the same with the side of his pants. “Can you move in them?”

  “I haven’t tried. I woke you up. And now I’m being held hostage.”

  She looked down again. “You are.” She laughed. “And by such a simple thing. If the valkyries thought to fight naked, we’d never have made it out of Lofgrund.”

  “You’re doing this on purpose
?”

  She nodded. “I am doing this on purpose.”

  Erik turned his back to her, letting out an exasperated sigh, and Tove began to dress herself. She put her sword belt around the clothes and adjusted it, checking that the weapon came clean of the sheath easily and joined Erik at the head of the bed.

  “So we’ll go and find a thief today?” She was smiling, still pleased with herself.

  “Seems like it.” He started toward the door. “I have to imagine he’d be stupid to stay considering it sounded like Modgudr knows exactly who he is.”

  Erik opened the door and let out a frightened bark, jumping back when he saw the custodian standing in front of him. He exhaled, the surprise fading as his brain realized there was no threat.

  “Jesus fucking… What?”

  The tiny man looked at him with no discernible expression which only served to annoy Erik all the more.

  “I have come to guide you through the many, winding halls of the Grand Keep, that you may find the courtyard in good time.”

  The custodian began walking without any prompting or a suggestion that they follow and his pace was far more brisk than it had been the night before. They were shown through to the courtyard and pointed in the vague direction of the entertainment district. The doors were then promptly shut behind them.

  “I have no idea if I feel welcome or not.”

  Tove looked at the doors and then to Erik, giving a half-shrug. “Does it matter so much?”

  Erik started across the court, guards looking at all three of them as they passed. “I guess not. I’d like to avoid a fight if at all possible and knowing where you stand is pretty important in that kind of thing.”

  The looks from the guards were as awed and welcoming as they had been the night before, a few of the men even going so far as to offer the shield salute that he’d seen given only to Ásví prior to his arrival in Gjallarbrú. Modgudr had been well-informed and spoken of rumors circulating about him. It wasn’t something Erik had expected and even though the rumors had been positive in general, there was a discomfort in having strangers know things you hadn’t told them.

  The edge of the entertainment district granted him some level of anonymity, at least. The clothes seemed to draw looks and the ready cooing of women in windowed stalls at brothels. They must have been fine clothing for the city as he’d seen only a few other people wearing the style. Most still ignored him, either because he walked with women already or because they recognized Göll’s armor as belonging to a valkyrie. Even here, where he was welcomed as a chosen, the expressions of men changed when their eyes first landed on Göll.

  There seemed to be no meaning in the layout to the district that Erik could discern. Blocky streets with no structure in the way businesses were clustered. They’d wandered the streets for a half hour when Erik finally grew bored of the aimless search and stopped a man walking by.

  “Where’s the, uh…” He’d forgotten the name of the inn.

  Tove spoke up. “Calf’s Head Inn.”

  The man scoffed. “There’s nicer places for a bed, mister.”

  “I’m looking for someone.”

  The man laughed. “Ljunge, is it?”

  Erik cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, he a popular guy?”

  “That’s a word for it.” The man pointed back down the street he’d come from. “Five, six streets down, take a left. You’ll see it. Sign like a calf’s head, if you can believe. Should be able to see it from either side.”

  Erik looked down the street. “Thanks.”

  The man nodded in response and left them there. The walk was a short one and the inn was where the man had described it being, though the signs were more run down than Erik had expected. They hadn’t been recently cleaned or repainted like many of the others in the district around them. There were windows around most of the bottom of the inn, dirty like the sign. Glass was no longer a rarity, it seemed, though the stuff in most windows was thick, wavy, and usually contained at least a single bubble of air.

  Erik pushed the door open and found himself in a small tavern that matched the exterior in its disrepair. Old tables, rickety chairs, and a dearth of lighting meant the unclean windows had to do the bulk of the work. Tove and Göll followed him in and the smile the tavernkeep had given him quickly faded when he saw that a valkyrie was in his establishment.

  The man did not move from behind the bar, looking over at Erik, scowling. “What d’you want then? I know t’ain’t drink so be savin’ me time and come out with it.”

  It was an honest reaction, at least, and Erik couldn’t fault him for that.

  “I’m looking for a man called—”

  “Never ‘eard of ‘im. Leave.”

  That was a bit too honest for Erik’s liking. “Look, this doesn’t have to be weird. You can just tell me where Ljunge is and I can just go.”

  “I said—”

  “Alvar!” A smooth voice called down the stairs and the sound of footsteps followed it. “I’ve told you there’s no sense in covering for me. I welcome all guests!”

  A man with medium-length brown hair, held back in a tie, looked over to Erik as he came down the stairs. He had a few days’ stubble and wore a wide, toothy smile.

  “Especially a guest who’s come with some beautiful women.” He finished the short descent and walked toward them, coming to a stop a few feet away.

  “You’re Ljunge?”

  “I am.” His eyes were on Tove entirely even as he answered Erik’s question. “Who are these lovely women? And why have you come seeking a visit with me? A man of your fine status, I can imagine only a few reasons.”

  He pointed at Tove and Göll in turn. “Tove, Göll.”

  “Göll, a… name… it seems familiar to me. No matter, carry on.”

  “Sure. I don’t really have any interest in dragging this out. Modgudr told me to bring you in.”

  Ljunge nodded, putting a hand under his chin. “Hm, right. Modgudr…” He turned and ran.

  “God damnit!”

  Erik started after the fleeing man, but he was through the door and had slammed it shut by the time Erik got to the far side of the inn. The latch shuddered, taking him a second to pull it open. When he’d managed it Ljunge was down nearly a block and preparing to turn. He was fast, though not fast enough to convince Erik to pull magic through the grips. If Göll wasn’t allowed to help, Erik worried that using his own power might cause Modgudr to claim they were the same. Even then, Ljunge was just a thief and Erik had no good reason to give the man a reason to draw the daggers he kept high on either leg.

  Tove kept pace in spite of her size, even with Erik at a full sprint. Ahead of them, Ljunge went around a corner, working his way east in fits and starts. He knew the city well and they were essentially at his mercy. Göll followed behind at a wider distance than she normally kept even when he slept. Erik wanted for all the world to have her fly up into the air and at least keep track of the man, but he was sure it would be counted as assistance. He never escaped their view, all the while drawing them toward the east, until they came to a massive paved lot with a fountain and rails at the far edge. Looking to the sides, Erik could see that it was an outcropping, set out over the river below. Ljunge, reaching the far side, turned and smiled. He held up two hands.

  “Alright, let’s stop there, shall we? I have a proposition.” Ljunge looked at Erik with one eyebrow raised.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Don’t take me to Modgudr.”

  Erik recoiled, a confused look on his face. “And?”

  “That is the whole proposition.”

  “How is that a proposition?”

  “So, no?”

  “You’re not offering anything!”

  Ljunge shrugged and flung himself off of the railing. Erik ran over, watching the man fall down the cliff side, tumbling
as his body slapped against the rocks.

  Erik turned, running as his mind realized that there was a very different meaning to that act in Helheim. He blasted past Tove who watched him with a curious expression.

  “He’ll come back! Someone will hide him!”

  A wave of realization came over Tove’s face and she rushed to catch up with Erik. He struggled to remember the path that Ljunge had taken to get there and wondered exactly how long it took to return to the bed. He’d never known exactly, but it could not have been long. It’d taken the guard in Lofgrund the best part of thirty seconds to dissipate. They’d run for nearly two minutes following him and the tavernkeep would likely be awaiting his return. Erik couldn’t understand how anyone could so casually invite that pain. They returned to the Calf’s Head and tore in. The tavernkeep was standing casually at the bar, something Erik hadn’t expected. Had he already hidden Ljunge? He thundered upstairs, pointing at a door and telling Tove to check it. There were two others and Erik picked the one he knew overlooked a side street, kicking it open when he found it locked.

  He stood in the room, mouth open in pure confusion. Ljunge was climbing out the window, still dressed in exactly the clothes he’d leapt in.

  “Tove, downstairs! He’s running!”

  She joined him on the stairs, disbelief in her voice. “He’s what?!”

  “Running, I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense!”

  They flew across the floor of the tavern, coming out the other side, Ljunge this time well ahead of them. It was clear immediately that he had led them to the cliff edge.

  “Tove, go ahead and make sure he doesn’t go east!”

  She did, sprinting over an aisle and running on ahead. She’d become fast without the need for any sort of magic and she’d done so faster than Erik imagined possible. He had gained some speed himself, but she’d surpassed him easily. Ljunge caught sight of Tove at the next intersection and cut west. Erik did the same, Tove crossing a block up, now behind both of them. He ran into the main road, a convoy of heavy horses pulling carts. Erik watched as Ljunge leaned down, pulling a small knife from his boot. He reared back and threw it, the blade spiraling toward the lead horse. It stuck deep into the animal’s flesh, sending it rearing and neighing in pain. It bolted, a dozen others following suit. Ljunge, without a second’s hesitation, flung himself under the wheels. Before the horses had finished pressing the spilled entrails flat, Erik whipped around, running toward the edge of the entertainment district.