From Death to Valhalla (The Last Einherjar Book 1)

by Randall P. Fitzgerald

  She returned to Erik, pulling at his shirt. He was lost in the curious view of it all himself. There were electric lights and the streetcar had been electric as well. It was something from old pictures of New York, maybe. The clothes had not changed and what Modgudr had given them still looked very much the same, though everyone wore them. Erik ignored Tove’s questions for the moment, holding up a hand and jogging up to a woman who stood reading a leaflet written entirely in runes.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. Hey.”

  She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Do I know you?”

  “I mean… ma’am would sort of imply…” He dropped it. “Is there a restaurant around here that’s good? Maybe a hotel?”

  “Hotel?” She puzzled for a minute. “Oh, you must be one of those.” The woman’s speech was more modern than anyone he had met. “You mean an inn. Sure, there’s a place down that way.” She pointed up a street to the north. “Restaurant and ‘hotel’ all in one.” She chuckled at the word and went back to her leaflet.

  “Yeah… thanks.”

  Erik turned around, nodding to the others who had kept their distance. They came to him and he started toward an intersection, crossing north. There were paved streets but most of the traffic was people on foot. He could see no cars, only streetcars from time to time.

  “There’s a hotel up this way. Inn. Sorry.”

  None of the buildings that Erik could see were much taller than ten floors or so. They seemed to be constructed of the same sort of things modern buildings were, certainly skyscrapers could be possible. He turned his head to Göll.

  “Do you know why the buildings aren’t any taller than they are?”

  “Hel does not allow buildings which would be taller than her hall.” Göll looked up at the buildings. “She has many strange rules.”

  “Not that I’m in a rush to head there, but how do we get to Valhalla from here?”

  “There are gates. They are at the far eastern edge of the city. You should not delay. Hel or her minions may come and make trouble for us. Odin will be displeased.”

  Göll’s voice was harsh. He knew it was not her own, but the edge to it was more than it had ever been. Whether it was truly Hel that put her ill at ease, or something else, he did not wish to see her that way longer than need be.

  “We’ll go.” Erik realized Ljunge was still walking with them. He turned to the man. “I thought you were leaving.”

  Ljunge shrugged. “I only know the way to one place I can eat and sleep. And that way is to follow you.” He smiled. “Besides, we should dine together at least. Toast to new friendships. I will buy the food, even!”

  Erik couldn’t bring himself to be bothered if Göll was unconcerned. There was no good reason in turning Ljunge away, and a friend was better than a stranger or an enemy if the pervert was honest.

  “Sure. I’ll take free food.”

  “Then it’s settled! I’ll even treat the flat-chested demon!”

  Tove swung, connecting hard with Ljunge’s arm. He gave no reaction which only served to further Tove’s anger. She pouted again, moving to Erik’s side and keeping close to him until they reached the lobby of the hotel.

  It was easily the nicest hotel lobby Erik had ever seen the inside of. Fine wood carvings, with statues of gods and goddesses all around, all lacquered and shined. Off the lobby was a restaurant and there was polished wood and marble on nearly every surface. The clerk at the front desk looked up from his counter and, when he saw Göll, immediately pulled up a bell, ringing it enthusiastically.

  Erik stopped. He couldn’t be sure exactly the meaning of the bell, but he didn’t want to seem to be a threat if burly men came from the sides of the room. None did, and the clerk waved him over.

  “Oh, honored einherjar, you are most, most welcome. Please, we will take your packs.”

  Bellhops in bright green uniforms came out, relieving all three of the group of their packs and taking them to the side of the lobby where they waited attentively.

  “It is a fine choice you’ve made, coming to our establishment. Might I have your name?”

  Erik looked around, not sure how to feel. “Uh, sure. Haki Erik Styrsson.”

  “Ooh.” The clerk raised his eyebrows, impressed, and wrote the name down. “Well, Haki, is that the name you prefer?”

  “Erik.”

  “Very good. I must say, you are most welcome and, of course, as you’ve graced our fine inn with the presence of one chosen by Odin we are happy to extend to you our three finest rooms, free of charge, and any meals you may need.” The man smiled.

  Erik knit his brow. “Why?”

  The man seemed more confused than Erik was. “I’m sorry?”

  “Why give me the rooms?”

  The man laughed. “Oh, I do apologize. It has been so long since there has been an einherjar among us here that I simply forgot how arduous your travels can be.” The man came around. “I will explain and show you to your rooms.” He led them toward an elevator. Ljunge and Tove both looked at it curiously, only Göll followed Eric in immediately. “I see you know of elevators, Sir Erik. An impressive man.”

  “Yeah, they’re not new.”

  “Very, very good.” The man was genuinely pleased for whatever reason. He waved Tove and Ljunge in, following and pressing a button. “The presence of an einherjar does us a service, of course. The brutes beyond the bridge cannot understand the glory you bring to all humankind by serving Odin. We—”

  “Ah!” Tove shouted as the elevator started moving. “What’s happening? This box closet is moving.”

  “It goes up… just calm down, okay? It’s normal.” She clung to his arm and Erik motioned for the man to continue.

  “We all among Helborgen understand the value of the einherjar. You will make us all proud come Ragnarok. They are concerns far from the minds of those simple farmers. No offense intended to present company, of course.”

  They rode to the top floor, exiting. There were no windows in the hall and only four rooms at all in the area. The clerk pulled three keys from his pocket and moved to the rooms.

  “We only need two,” Tove said, her arm still latched to Erik’s. “One would do, as Ljunge’s not with us.”

  The clerk looked surprised. “Is he not? I’m sorry if—”

  “No, it’s fine. A room for him. Sorry. Just two, though.”

  “Very good.” He opened the first door, handing the key to Erik. “Then I will leave you your privacy and show Sir Ljunge to his room.”

  Erik walked into the room first. As soon as Göll had closed the door, Tove lost the ability to control herself. She immediately ran to the windows, looking out over a park.

  “It’s beautiful! There is so much here that makes no sense! Is it all magic? The gods have magic, it must be the same for Hel. She is a goddess, is she not?”

  Göll scoffed at the statement, something Tove didn’t seem to care about. Erik explored the room, finding a bathroom complete with tub, shower, and toilet.

  “Indoor plumbing!” He’d said the words louder than he intended to and Tove came running.

  “What is it?”

  “Toilets!”

  Tove looked around the bathroom, not sure what exactly he was referring to. “The white chair!”

  “How is it a toilet?” She walked over to it, Erik behind her, nearly prancing in his excitement.

  “Look, you just use it like normal. And then…” He pulled the cord above the toilet and it flushed. He rolled his head back. “Ahhh, it makes… it’s so good. Tove, you don’t understand. And you wipe with this paper. Or,” he looked around, pointing to a second bowl, “you use that thing. It’s called a bidet.”

  She nodded for a moment. “You told me about the paper. I remember that.” She turned around. “What is this closet?”

  Erik walked to it, opening the glass
door and turning on the water.

  “Water!” She walked over, putting her hand in it. “Hot water!” She licked her hand. “Clean water!” Tove turned, pushing him toward the bathroom door. “You need to go. I have to use this…”

  “Shower.”

  “Shower, yes. I need it.” She shut the door behind him and he heard her giggling on the other side.

  Erik went to sit in one of the half dozen chairs scattered around the room. The lights were electric but there were no more modern items. No radio, phone, or television.

  “It’s weird.”

  Göll came over by the chair. “What is?”

  “It’s like… old time Earth. Midgard, I guess I should call it. But there are things that should be here that aren’t.”

  “All of it is wrong. This luxury is what Hel uses to keep the people here weak. To make them forget the glory of the other gods. She abuses her power over the dead in this way.”

  Erik stretched out in the chair. “I guess…” He yawned, looking out the window at the park. “She said she’d help, but all I seem to remember is getting stabbed and freezing my ass off.”

  “I told you a deal with her would come to nothing.”

  “Yeah, you did. That’s fine. We’ll see what happens at Valhalla, I guess.”

  “Good.” Göll’s voice was curiously flat, almost hollow. “I will guide you to Valhalla.”

  chapter|31

  Ljunge hadn’t joined them that morning for breakfast, something Erik had almost expected him to do. There was more variety in the food, roasted potatoes, fish, and more modern fare like eggs and toast. Tove ordered well more than she could ever eat, knowing that it was free. She seemed especially enamored of the sweeter items, waffles and French toast.

  Mouth full, she pointed a fork at her food. “You mean to say people eat this daily in Midgard now?”

  “Not daily, no. Well… some people do. They’re, uh… usually pretty fat.”

  “It’s no wonder.” She shoved another fork of syrup-covered bread into her mouth. “It borders on obscene.”

  When the food was done, they left, Erik wanting to get a lay of the city. Göll had been even more quiet than she normally was. It was after Erik had asked for directions to a shopping area that she finally spoke.

  “How long do you intend to dawdle?”

  Her voice was flat again and her eyes had been dark since the night before. It had been enough to convince Erik to sleep with his arms still wrapped.

  “Dawdle? Woof. Strong words there, Göll.” He was growing tired of the odd air around her. “What’s your deal right now?”

  She looked at him, icy eyes sharp. “I have come to guide you to Valhalla. You should not waste time.”

  Erik shrugged. “Well, I’m gonna waste time. A lot of it. How’s that?” He turned, nearly shouting at her. “I’m going to buy a fucking house here and live in this city. Sound good? You going to put your spear through me if I do that?”

  She said nothing, only stopped and stared, her expression unchanged.

  He looked at Tove and motioned a hand at Göll. “You see it too, right? She’s being fucking weird.”

  Tove seemed nervous being brought into the conversation. “I do not feel I should take part in this…” She trailed off and Erik felt a pang of regret at having lost his temper.

  He forced a calming sigh and they carried on in the direction of the shopping center. His mood was more than soured and Tove understood that well enough. She kept close to him even as they arrived in the shopping district. It was a street, less wide than the main thoroughfares, lined with shops from one end to another.

  In spite of having come half for Tove’s sake, she kept her eyes locked forward, still feeling awkward. Erik put a hand on Tove’s shoulder.

  “Hey, if Göll wants to be weird, let her. And maybe she doesn’t want to. No reason her deal needs to ruin the day, right?” He noticed a shop that looked to be selling chocolates. “You ever heard of chocolate?”

  “Chah…” She’d heard the word but it was foreign to her.

  “Jesus, Kvernes is like a horror show when I think about it. Anyway, you’ll like it, I think, considering what you did to your breakfast.”

  He started toward the shop. Modgudr had given them some money and he figured that would be as good a place as any to spend it. Tove came behind him, complaining.

  “It’s not my fault I ate so much! Who wouldn’t? You’re the odd one for not eating it, I say.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  They came into the shop and the woman behind the counter was quick to hold up a welcoming hand.

  “Welcome in! I’ve got candies and chocolates, as you can—”

  Göll came in and the woman stopped.

  “Oh, you…” She looked from Göll to Erik. “You are einherjar?”

  Erik laughed awkwardly. “Look, I guess. I’m happy to pay for things. It’s weird for me if I don’t.”

  The woman shook her head. “Oh no, I couldn’t allow that. Have as much as you like. It’s my honor.”

  She came over, suddenly much more attentive to them than she had been. There were others in the shop who stared at Erik and Göll, smiling and talking excitedly. It felt undeserved in so many ways and even if it weren’t, it was off-putting. He tried his best to ignore it, pointing Tove toward some truffles.

  “These are usually pretty good.”

  The woman behind the counter grabbed a pair and handed them over the counter. Erik bit into his immediately while Tove looked it over. The chocolate was expertly made, something he hadn’t expected.

  “What is it? It looks like droppings.”

  Erik smiled, trying not to laugh. “It’s a… candy. A treat. It’s sweet.”

  “Like the breakfast?”

  “Yeah, more or less.”

  Tove took a bite of the truffle and chewed it once before spitting it out onto the floor. Everyone stopped, looking at Erik as he burst into laughter, doubling over.

  He held up a hand at the woman who ran the store. “Haaa, oh god.” He blinked back tears. “Oh man, I didn’t know she’d do that. I’m sorry.” He was still laughing.

  Tove blushed bright red, shoving him to the side. “Why must you laugh so hard? It tastes odd! I don’t trust it!” She crossed her arms. “You people have terrible habits in food. All of this is strange!”

  She stormed out. The owner waved him after her, smiling, and Erik apologized again before running off to catch her. He came out laughing and Tove turned to him.

  “You’re picking fun at me, I know it.”

  He held his hands up. “How could I know you’d hate it?”

  She pointed past him into the store. “It looks like an owl pellet is how! And tastes like a honeyed one! Bitter and odd and sweet and… and… mushy.”

  “Some of us would call that smooth.”

  “Well, some of you are touched with some mental sickness, then!”

  Erik was laughing again, Tove’s face turning red. “Alright, I’ll get you something you like.”

  “Two things.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Sure, two things. One has to be food.”

  She huffed. “I don’t see why it is you want to feed me so often.”

  “I don’t see why you never refuse.”

  She kicked at him, her foot missing shallow as Erik hopped away from it. They carried on, to a shop selling ground beef on French rolls. They weren’t quite hamburgers, though they were definitely something similar. The meat was spiced and there was some sort of jam on the bread and they were sat out. He mentioned the word hamburger to the man assembling the sandwiches and received only a blank look followed by an apology. Erik ordered a couple when Tove said she liked the sound of them and the lukewarm sandwiches were wrapped in paper and handed over. They weren’t exactly what Erik had hoped, but Tov
e liked hers well enough, so it satisfied a part of his debt for having tricked her into eating the chocolate.

  They’d made their way past half the shops on the street when Tove spotted a curious one. It sold weapons from the looks of it, very much in the style of the world on the other side of the bridge. She went into the shop with glee, Erik following her, somewhat surprised when he realized that the bulk of the items available were jewelry. Tove took little notice of the smaller baubles, her attention focused squarely on the weapons and shields that adorned the walls and stands.

  “Welcome, einherjar. I hope the day finds you well.” The difference in speech was immediately apparent. “I’ll gladly supply you with whatever it is you need. And I’ll not hear a word about co—” He noticed the leather wraps on Erik’s hands. “Beg pardon. Those are finely made. Nothing here I could offer to be of aid. And that’s no word of modesty.”

  Erik looked down at his own hands and then back at the man. “Don’t worry about it.” He nodded down toward the boxes that lined the wooden counters. They had glass windows and contained rings and necklaces and the like. “I’ll look at this stuff. While she finds something she likes.” He nodded at Tove and the man followed his look.

  “As you’d have it, einherjar.” The man turned his attention to Tove. “Then, little miss. What’ll it be?”

  Tove looked at the man as if it was the first she’d noticed him. Without answering she pulled her sword. It was dented deeply from her training with Göll. The man winced to look at it and picked it up.

  “What’s happened to you, poor dear?” He spoke to the sword, turning it over. “A pity, but at least it served you.” He laid the sword down, eyes returning to Tove. “I’ve a few this size in the back. A moment.”

  He disappeared into the back and Erik turned his eyes to the jewelry in the cases in front of him. The designs were meticulous, beautiful. He recognized Thor’s hammer among them, but there were others as well. A bow and arrow. He vaguely remembered hearing about a god named Ullr whom it might symbolize. There were ravens and spears and dozens of other designs, most seemed connected to gods in some way.