Huld ignored Thokk’s taunts and struggled to clear her pain-blurred vision, trying to see the others who’d entered the cell. There were two adults and two children. They looked familiar. Her vision cleared a bit more.
“Valgerth?” Huld asked in a hoarse whisper. “Thorfinn?”
“Aye,” Valgerth said, gazing up at the ruin of Huld’s body. “Yngvar and Thora are here too. We would help you if we could, but—”
“But if they attempt to escape or harm me,” Thokk interrupted, “or to go against my will in any way, their children will be the first to suffer. Let me show you how cooperative they are.”
She turned to Thorfinn. “Thorfinn, I am going to remove your bonds. When I do, I want you to take Valgerth to that wall over there, untie her, and clamp manacles around her wrists. When you have done that, you will also chain yourself. Do you understand?”
Thokk placed her hands suggestively on Yngvar’s shoulders and slowly slid them toward the boy’s neck.
The war raging within Thorfinn was evident in his expression, but with a glance at Valgerth and then at their children, he finally gave a quick nod of agreement.
Keeping one hand near Yngvar’s neck, Thokk traced Runes in the air with her other hand and spoke words of power. Thorfinn’s bonds fell away,
He rubbed his wrists for a moment, reluctant to do what he’d promised. Both of Thokk’s hands again rested on his son’s shoulders near the boy’s slender neck.
“With but a thought, I can make your son scream,” Thokk said, “perhaps blind him for life, paralyze him, twist his face into a mask of horror.”
Thorfinn took Valgerth’s arm and led her to the wall.
“Don’t do it!” Huld cried. “Don’t give in! Try to overpower her!”
“Would you have their children suffer?” Thokk asked Huld.
“There isn’t any choice, Huld,” Thorfinn explained. “There hasn’t been any choice since Eirik’s Vale fell.”
“They destroyed it all, Huld,” Valgerth said numbly, as Thorfinn removed her ropes and clamped the manacles on her wrists to hold her arms above her head against the wall. “Kovna and his army, along with Thokk and her Death Riders, attacked and destroyed it all. Everyone is dead except we four and Freyadis, who may well be dead by now.”
Huld groaned. It was worse than she had imagined. And with Norda also dead, there no longer seemed to be any hope at all. She could well understand Thorfinn’s and Valgerth’s surrender to the inevitable.
“I didn’t know,” she said to them, watching as Thorfinn now clamped manacles around his own wrists. The locks clicked with a sharp finality. “But we can’t give up all hope. Bloodsong may yet live. She may—”
Thokk’s laughter cut her off. “Tell the Freya-slut how you last saw Bloodsong.”
Neither Valgerth nor Thorfinn spoke.
Thokk’s hands moved closer to Yngvar’s neck. Thora whirled around and started to kick at Thokk’s legs, Thokk hissed a word of power. Thora screamed and fell unconscious to the floor.
“Thora!” Valgerth cried.
“She’s not badly harmed,” Thokk assured them. “And now I believe that one of you was going to tell Huld about Bloodsong?”
“Freyadis was tied to the death tree,” Valgerth quietly said. “Kovna and his army were standing guard, waiting for her to die slowly.”
Huld did not reply, struggled to keep the last of her determination to resist alive, to believe that there still might be hope.
“And now let me tell you why I brought you to my castle,” Thokk said, smiling coldly at Valgerth and Thorfinn. “Guthrun is being taught to see things differently. When her awakening to her true self is completed, I shall have her kill the two of you as proof of her allegiance to Hel.”
“And our children?” Thorfinn quietly asked.
“I will not kill them. You can die knowing that your cooperation saved their lives. After you’re dead, they will stay here as my servants.”
“Your slaves, you mean,” Valgerth growled.
“My servants. If they please me, I will in time let them do other things, give them more responsibility. They might eventually aid Hel in her struggle for domination over the Earth.”
“Better you should kill them,” Thorfinn whispered.
Yngvar began to whimper.
“Of course,” Thokk continued, “if you should choose to die Hel-praying, you can return to ride by their side and help in Hel’s coming conquests.”
“Never,” Valgerth said. “Hel will not get my soul.”
“Oh? But you’re wrong,” Thokk countered. “The souls of all those who die in my castle are Hel’s to do with as She pleases.”
Thokk laughed at their expressions, then she spoke a word of power and touched Yngvar’s head. The small boy slumped to the ground and lay still.
“Merely a sleep spell,” Thokk assured his parents.
The sound of heavy footsteps grew louder, and the air became colder. Huld tensed in her chains, recognizing Vafthrudnir’s approach.
The Jotun entered the cell and frowned down at the humans within it.
“Take the children to their rooms,” Thokk ordered. Thorfinn and Valgerth strained against their chains as the Jotun lifted the children from the floor.
“You shall not see them again in this life,” Thokk told Valgerth and Thorfinn as the Frost Giant carried the children from the cell. “I meant to let you say a last good-bye,” she smiled coldly, “but I have so many things on my mind that I forgot. You understand, I’m sure?”
Thokk walked to the wall and worked a mechanism to lower Huld’s chains.
The Freya-Witch groaned as her feet again touched the floor and pain shot through her body.
Thokk stopped the mechanism, walked nearer, traced Runes in front of the bound woman, spoke words of power. Rays of purple light shot forth from Thokk’s hands, bathed Huld’s body, healed her wounds, restored her strength.
The glow faded. Huld’s flesh was again whole, unmarked, her hands and feet no longer numb. She stood in her chains and stared into Thokk’s eyes.
Thokk detected one of Huld’s fleeting thoughts and laughed. “No, Huld,” she said, “the healing spell did not give you back your hair. I have grown rather fond of you bald. However, if you should agree to become my student, I do have a spell that could make your golden tresses return. So I will ask you again before continuing your persuasion, will you become my student?”
Huld said nothing, merely stared defiantly at the Hel-Witch, her chin arrogantly raised.
“Your choice,” Thokk said with a shrug, ‘‘but you’re not going to enjoy what happens to you next. Think it over, Huld. As soon as Vafthrudnir returns, I will have him take you to another chamber, a quiet place that will encourage you to think and change your mind. You have until he returns to prevent that from happening, to prevent a visit to the Chamber of Decay.”
HULD FELT stronger than she had since awakening in Thokk’s castle. The healing spell had swept away her exhaustion and pain. Huld knew that Thokk meant her to be as receptive as possible to whatever new torments awaited. But she also knew from experience that a healing spell drained a great deal of a Witch’s energy.
The Freya-Witch studied Thokk in the flickering torchlight. How much had the Hel-Witch been weakened by the healing spell? Enough to give Huld a chance against her in a duel of magic, should the opportunity arise?
The air grew colder as Vafthrudnir returned. Huld steeled herself, determined to watch for signs of weakness in the Hel-Witch. Vafthrudnir entered, bent low, and whispered in Thokk’s ear.
Thokk’s expression darkened. She cursed, turned, and strode from the chamber, motioning for the Jotun to follow.
“What could have happened?” Huld wondered aloud, relieved to have gained a respite.
“The Gods know,” Thorfinn growled, pulling at his cha
ins. “What a fool,” he went on, “to have chained myself.”
“For our children’s sake you had no choice,” Valgerth reminded him. “I did not struggle, either, when you chained me.”
Thorfinn jerked on his chains.
“Huld,” Valgerth said, “before Thokk comes back, I must tell you something. Freyadis told us that Thokk claims to have taken the corpse of her son. It’s supposedly in this castle and has been made to grow older. Is such a thing possible?”
“For a Hel-Witch like Thokk, practiced in death-magic, yes, it is possible. But why would she want to do it?”
“To awaken him and have him lead Hel’s Death Riders,” Thorfinn answered.
“And Guthrun is to become a Hel-Witch,” Valgerth added.
Huld nodded. “As am I, if I give in, which, Freya willing, I won’t. And I doubt Guthrun will, either; unless—”
“Unless?”
“As you know, Norda and I were just starting to teach Guthrun the ways of Freya’s magic. But I sensed something dark in Guthrun, a slumbering power. I had hoped to teach her how to control it before telling her about it. Norda was worried about it too. We attributed it to the first six years of Guthrun’s life spent in Helheim. If that power is stronger than Guthrun’s will to resist, Thokk might succeed in turning her into a pawn of Hel.”
* * *
‘‘Tell me what happened,” Thokk ordered, looking down at Kovna’s unconscious form on her throne room floor.
Styrki drew himself to his full height and pushed down his fear of Thokk as best he could. “General Kovna was wounded trying to prevent Bloodsong’s escape. He had us return here, to you, knowing that you had the power to heal wounds. I fear he will die if you do not help.”
“Bloodsong escaped?”
“Yes, Mistress Thokk.”
“Unfortunate, but of more importance to Kovna than to me. She could, however, cause problems later, after her children are serving Hel. I will send Death Riders to slay her,” she decided, and turned to go.
“Wait!” Styrki called, his tone more commanding than he’d intended.
Thokk whirled on him, anger glinting in her green eyes.
“The general needs your help,” Styrki said, holding his voice steady, fear clutching at him.
“Let him die,” she said, laughing. “You can lead his men.”
“The men are loyal to General Kovna, not to me.”
“Kovna’s so-called army is nothing but a gang of thieves. They will follow you.”
Anger pushed away some of Styrki’s fear. “The men with whom I serve General Kovna are honorable warriors for the most part. If some were once thieves, it was to survive in the aftermath of Nidhug’s fall. Many served the general before the collapse of Nidhug’s power and serve him again now. Their loyalty is only to him. They will desert if the general does not live, myself included. None wish to serve you.”
Some of the anger drained from Thokk’s face as she probed Styrki’s thoughts and learned that he was speaking the truth. “Very well. I will heal him. I could force his men to stay in my service with magic, but it is not worth the effort, if there is an easier way, and a healing spell drains less energy.” Though two in such a short time will weaken me more than I prefer, she added in her thoughts.
She traced Runes in the air over Kovna’s body, concentrated her will, and spoke words of power.” Purple rays from her outstretched hands bathed Kovna’s body. Within moments, his head wound was healed. He opened his eyes and saw Thokk standing over him.
She turned and strode away without a word.
Styrki squatted by Kovna’s side. “She did not want to heal you, General, curse her. But she still needs your army, and I was able to change her mind.”
Kovna nodded, sat up, and tore the bloodstained bandage from his head. “My thanks.”
“She is going to send Death Riders to find and slay Bloodsong.”
“I had wished a slower death for Bloodsong.” He got to his feet. “I will speak to the men, show them that I’m all right. We will rest here in the castle, for now. I don’t trust Thokk. I want to stay near her, study her. If she’s keeping secrets from me, I want to find out what they are before they can bring us harm.”
Kovna walked from the castle into the courtyard where his warriors were uneasily waiting.
“Care for your horses and yourselves,” Kovna commanded. “And,” he added softly so that only Styrki could hear, “pass the word to listen and watch and report anything of importance to me at once.”
* * *
Guthrun’s eyes had closed again, and again a familiar voice had called her name. She opened her eyes. Orm again stood before her, now bearing ghastly wounds.
“You caused this to happen to me,” he accused, tears streaking his decay-ravaged face. “You caused Hel to punish me.”
Guthrun nodded. “Yes. I am sorry. But it won’t happen again. I have decided to cooperate.”
“You will have to prove it.”
“I know.”
“Thokk will ask you to kill the prisoners, Valgerth and Thorfinn.”
“I will do it.”
Orm studied her expression. She seemed sincere, but it was not long ago that she had seemed determined to fight stubbornly on.
“I’m not stupid, Orm. I could keep on fighting, but for what? Sooner or later I’m bound to break. No one can go without sleep and food and maintain the strength to fight. Better to give in now and save my friends in Helheim further pain. Can you open the door of this room, Orm? Open it if you can, and we will go in search of Thokk to tell her the news.”
Orm began to vanish; within moments he was gone. Guthrun remained seated on the bed, waiting. The next move was Thokk’s.
* * *
“Take her to the Chamber of Decay.” Thokk watched as Vafthrudnir unchained Huld’s ankles. New spell-imbued manacles were then clamped around her ankles before her wrists were freed. Several links of hobbling chains joined the ankle manacles which, unlike the manacles she had worn till now, would require a key to open, the key the Jotun was using to lock them on.
“You will never be free of spell-chains,” Thokk explained, “until you agree to let me teach you the ways of Hel. And in addition, the hobbling chain on your ankles will prevent your running if you try.”
Vafthrudnir slipped a length of heavy, rusted chain around Huld’s slim waist and locked it in place so tightly that it became hard for her to take a deep breath. Behind her, attached to the waist chain, hung spell-imbued manacles on short lengths of glossy black spell-chains. Then the Jotun freed her wrists, violently twisted her arms behind her back, locked her wrists into the waiting manacles. He roughly lifted her from the floor and hung her over his massive shoulder.
“Don’t injure her,” Thokk ordered. “You’ve already had your revenge for Thrym’s death.”
She has not suffered nearly enough, Vafthrudnir thought to himself, but said nothing as he carried Huld from the cell and turned to descend the stairs.
Thokk took a torch from a wall bracket and began to follow, but suddenly stopped and stood frowning thoughtfully. Into her mind had come a voice, telling her that Guthrun had agreed to cooperate. I expected her to resist longer, Thokk mused. It’s no doubt a trick, but I will probe her thoughts and find out soon enough, once Huld is enjoying her next ordeal.
Down and down they descended over crumbling stone stairs, breaking through spider webs as they went. Silken strands clung to the Jotun and to Huld.
The Freya-Witch struggled to keep her fear under control, determined not to shame herself in front of Thokk. She concentrated on remembering the signs of weakness and fatigue she’d detected in the Hel-Witch when Thokk had returned to the cell. Whatever had called Thokk away had obviously drained even more of her energy. If only there was a way to get free of these spell-chains, Huld thought, I would gather all the strength at
my command and attack.
Huld tugged hopelessly at the chains that held her wrists behind her back, desperately trying to think of a plan to get free.
There were no longer any passageways leading off from the stairway, and the spider webs were even thicker, the stairs more crumbling, the walls pressing closer together. The Jotun bent low as he carried Huld deeper and deeper beneath the castle of Thokk, occasionally, painfully scraping her bare skin against the low ceiling and walls as if by accident.
The cold air grew more and more stale with the stench of decay. Then suddenly the stairs leveled out and the passageway dead-ended at a closed door. Its iron-banded wooden surface was covered with thick layers of spider webs.
Thokk spoke words of power. The lock clicked.
Vafthrudnir used his foot to shove the door open, bent lower, and carried Huld inside.
Huld gagged at the stench of decay, the smell overpowering, making it nearly impossible for her to breathe.
Thokk did not enter the chamber, but from the passageway the flickering light of her torch revealed a large chamber containing mounds of countless corpses in various stages of decay. The dirt floor was alive with crawling things. Rats, their eyes red in the torchlight, looked up from their grim feasts and glared at the intruders.
Vafthrudnir stood Huld on the floor.
She cringed as the crawling things tickled her bare feet, but kept herself from giving Thokk the pleasure of seeing her futilely try to escape their touch.
“This is the deepest chamber in my castle,” Thokk said from the passageway, her breath frosty ill the icy air, “a place for the forgotten Dead. It is very quiet here, a good place for thinking. And since you have much thinking to do.” Thokk motioned to Vafthrudnir. “Lock her in,” she ordered.
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