The Unnamed Warrior

by Rachel Tsoumbakos

  “I can see the township,” Sigar said to him as he pulled up his horse. Helgi halted his mount as well and he looked out over the field in front of them. The town was small, only a smattering of huts around a central hall. A few pens containing pigs and goats lay to one side.

  The dread of never seeing Svafa again in this lifetime consumed him. Helgi glanced skyward, to where he hoped the gods were looking down on him. His fate was sealed, what happened today was already preordained by the gods. But, as he peered upwards, he silently begged that he would see Svafa again.

  “In this lifetime or in the next,” he muttered under his breath.

  “What did you say, sir?” Sigar asked.

  “Nothing,” Helgi replied. “It was nothing.”

  But that wasn’t true. A fire smouldered within him, fighting against the stifling doubt and fear. Helgi burned with the desire to always be with Svafa, to be living and breathing beside her. Glancing to one side, he cut a glare at his brother, fearing this would be the day that Hedinn’s curse would come true.

  Helgi was convinced he would see Svafa in Valhalla tonight. Yet, he also knew the place would change him. Svafa had said so herself. He would become a mindless warrior who aimed to please no one but Odin as they waiting for Ragnarok. He didn’t want that. Instead, he wanted to live, to always love Svafa in the way he did now as if she were the only precious gift in all the world.

  A shuddering crackle of emotion rippled down his spine and Helgi felt violently ill. Looking skyward once more, a crack of lightning gave away Thor’s presence and Helgi felt like a deal had been made between him and the gods. Only, he was ignorant of the actual details.

  Would he live today? he wondered in hope. Perhaps, his life would be spared and his dream about the woman Hedinn had met was only that, a dream, some fancy coincidence that meant nothing. Maybe the gods could see how much he loved Svafa and were willing to bend the laws of fate for just one instance. They knew Svafa personally and shared a history that Helgi knew nothing about. So, it was entirely possible that a favour was owed somewhere along the line.

  He shook his head at his thoughts, shaking them from his mind as he saw Alfr approach.

  “And so, here you are!” Alfr called out as soon as they were close enough to talk. The man stood tall, his arms outstretched in an arrogant pose “I wondered if you would show up at all.”

  The men present with Alfr stepped away. They were here to witness the single combat, not to participate. Helgi turned to Sigar and Hedinn, his own companions, and nodded at them. They also stepped away from Helgi and Alfr.

  He felt more alone than he ever had in his life. The wind whipped around him and the clouds gathered in a dark mass.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Helgi asked. “It would be a dishonour my family is not prepared to bear should I turn away from this challenge.”

  The man in front of him didn’t reply. Instead, he lurched forward, pulling his dagger from its sheath as he did so.

  Helgi responded, crouching low and pulling his own knife free.

  The holmgang had begun.

  Alfr circled, readying himself, waiting for the moment to attack. Helgi made sure he was always alert, always ready to counterattack. Regardless of what the fates had set for him, he was determined to work hard against what might be preordained.

  Helgi struck out as Alfr stabbed at him. It was a defensive action to counteract against his foe. Alfr’s attack was only a test, though, with no effort behind it. His opponent was just trying to find Helgi’s weaknesses. He knew this because he was also doing the same, garnering Alfr’s reactions and watching for anything that might give Helgi’s strengths a chance to defeat the man.

  Alfr attacked again. This time he jabbed quickly, pulled back, and thrust his weapon forward. Helgi counterattacked and managed to nick Alfr. Blood rose quickly and seeped along Alfr’s arm. It was only a graze, not a wound that would bleed out or cause any real injury.

  Alfr didn’t even flinch. His eyes glinted at Helgi and he could see the anger in them. Helgi dove in, hoping to catch the man by surprise. Anger was always a good thing in battle, often a sign of weakness. They would react quickly, not cleverly.

  This was not the case with Alfr, though. Instead, the man darted around and slashed at Helgi.

  A searing pain ran along Helgi’s side and he glanced down briefly. Alfr’s dagger had managed to slip between the side flaps of his leather tunic and dig into his side.

  That distraction was all Alfr needed to dive in once more. This time the dagger poked Helgi in the shoulder, lodging deep into his muscle. Helgi grunted out in pain. His hand loosened and he nearly dropped his weapon.

  No, he had to hold on. For Svafa, for their love’s sake, Helgi had to fight back against his injuries. He had to rise up from the pain and defeat Alfr. Gritting his teeth, Helgi quickly brushed away the cold sweat that was forming along his brow with his good arm as the liquid threatened to drip into his eyes. The last thing he needed was to close his eyes against Alfr. It would mean certain death as surely as if he turned his back on the man.

  Alfr dived in, never allowing Helgi a chance to rest, to gather his strength and wits again. Helgi stumbled, his feet twisting underneath him as he tilted sideways in an attempt to avoid another wound. Stabbing his dagger out in front of him, he used it more to steady himself and to catch him if he fell rather than as a blow against Alfr.

  His teeth knocked together as his weapon hit the hard earth. The impact reverberated up his arms and it felt like an explosion in his wounded shoulder. It was a small price to pay, though. It was better than landing heavily on the ground and having Alfr tower over him.

  As soon as the blade lodged in the ground, Helgi sprang backward, pulling himself upwards and away from where he suspected Alfr would strike next. He hissed through the pain of his wounds and felt warm blood continue to trickle down his side.

  His dagger was buried deeply in the dirt and Helgi tugged at it as he pulled back. However, his fingers were wrenched free as Alfr punched at him and he was now without a weapon. It didn’t stop Helgi from darting further back, from acting as if he still stood a fighting chance of winning this combat.

  Alfr leered at him, his white teeth catching the light and flashing at him as though he was victorious already. Helgi squinted against it, his glance darting from one side to the other, trying to find a way out of the dreadful mess.

  “Admit it, Helgi,” Alfr said as he sneered at him. “You are a dead man who is still breathing.”

  “I might be,” Helgi replied, his mind still occupied with anything but what Alfr was saying. “But there is no harm in dancing as though I am still alive.”

  Helgi dove in the direction of his dagger, hoping he could reach it while Alfr was distracted with gloating at him.

  His body skidded against the hard earth, rocks digging into his open wounds and creating new ones. Helgi didn’t care. He bit down hard against the pain and continued to slide in towards his weapon. His determination his single goal at this point in time.

  Helgi’s fingers touched the blade just as he felt a cold jolt through his side. A gush of warmth soon replaced the sensation.

  Alfr had struck him a third time.

  Helgi reached around, his weapon forgotten as he clutched at his ribs. Thick blood oozed out over his fingers as he tried to cover his wound. His eyes closed against the pain and a vision of Svafa reaching out towards him swam across his mind’s eye.

  Helgi waited for the final blow.

  Yet, it never came.

  Looking up, Helgi saw Alfr standing over him, smiling.

  “You are dying,” he stated simply and Helgi nodded.

  Somewhere, a woman laughed and a wolf howled across the wind.

  Chapter 18: SVAFA

  “Svafa!”

  Her handmaiden rushed into the room. Stopping short when she saw the Valkyrie was there, she leaned over, puffing as she caught her breath.

  “What is it?”

  “A messeng
er.”

  Svafa rushed outside and was confronted by Sigar. She could feel terror rising and clutched at her throat, unable to speak, to question the man. The seconds drew out and felt like an eternity before the messenger finally spoke.

  “It’s Helgi, he’s been injured.”

  The trip had only taken a short time between their home in Svafaland and the location of Helgi’s holmgang with Alfr in Sigarsvoll. However, to Svafa, it had felt like a year had passed. Longer even. In fact, she imagined she now knew what an old person would feel after living their life on Midgard. Svafa had always speculated what it would be like to age as a human person did. Now, she wished she had never wondered. Her bones ached and there was a stiffness from sitting atop her horse than made her clench her teeth together. As a result, her jaw clamped shut, feeling as though it would never open again.

  “Helgi!”

  Regardless of how she felt, as soon as she saw her husband laying on the ground in front of a small makeshift fire, she jumped from her horse and ran across the clearing to kneel beside him.

  Helgi’s brother tended to the fire, so was crouched nearby. He was so close that she could feel the heat of Hedinn’s body beside her.

  Reaching out, her hand shook as it settled gently against Helgi’s pallid cheek. Tears were already running freely down her face. Leaning in, she rested her forehead against Helgi’s and felt the clammy sweat of his mortal wound.

  “Svafa, my love,” her husband said. His voice cracked and even though Svafa was close to him, she barely heard his words.

  She closed her eyes and tried to swallow back the sob threatening in her throat, being only partially successful.

  “You have to be alright,” Svafa whispered frantically. “You just have to be. How can I possibly live without you?”

  “You will find a way,” Helgi said. His words felt final as they struggled from his lips. A cough erupted and blood foamed from his mouth.

  “No!” Svafa didn’t care anymore about being gentle and wrapped her arms around Helgi, pulling his body up towards her. Helgi reached out, attempting to enclose her as well but he didn’t have the strength to maintain a hold. His arms slipped down after only a moment or two.

  “You need to listen to me,” Helgi said before coughing again. Svafa laid him down and wiped his mouth with her skirt. The blood smeared over the material but Svafa didn’t care that her clothing was now ruined.

  “Anything, my love.”

  “I want you to go on without me.”

  “No,” Svafa argued but stopped short when Helgi raised his hand in an effort to silence her.

  “I don’t have much time, so please listen to me.”

  Biting down on her lip, she nodded hesitantly as she sat back on her heels. Still holding his hand, she squeezed it, wishing she could send him her own strength, hoping that her invincibility would flow through her arm and into Helgi’s body. She would give up her own immortality in order to see Helgi survive this.

  “I want you to marry my brother.”

  Svafa’s breath billowed out of her lungs as Helgi’s words felt like a punch to her stomach.

  “No,” Hedinn said before Svafa could add her own protest. She could feel his breath as it whispered across her shoulder. Turning to look at him, Svafa saw profound grief etched deeply into the furrow of his brow. He looked haunted.

  “Stop, Hedinn,” Helgi replied. His voice crackled and Svafa was worried he would cough once more. “You will get your wish. But I do not blame you in this matter. I would rather Svafa be with you than with anyone else.”

  Svafa moaned. “No, I can’t be with your brother. I don’t want anyone else beyond you. Let me follow you to the grave rather than live another day without you.”

  She didn’t know what Helgi meant by Hedinn getting his own way, but it didn’t matter. Neither did the fact her words were probably wounding Hedinn. All that mattered was that her Helgi now lay dying in her arms.

  “Don’t give up everything you have for me,” Helgi whispered. “Your life is so much more important than mine.”

  Svafa reached out and cupped his face with her hands. “You are everything to me. The world is an empty void without you. I cannot go back to the way this life felt before you were in it.”

  She could see the effect her words had on him. Closing his eyes briefly, wetness escaped from the corners of his lids.

  “I want you to go on living. What you do is important. I can wait for forever in Valhalla. Please, take up my offer and wed my brother. Do this one thing for me so that I can die a happy man.”

  It was Svafa’s turn to close her eyes. A painful knot choked in her throat as she formed the sentence she didn’t want to say. “If that is your wish.”

  The words felt like stones in her mouth and it was an effort to say them around the hardness of it.

  “Thank you,” Helgi said, and a smile bloomed across his lips as Svafa opened her eyes once more.

  So, Svafa could see the exact moment when Helgi died.

  Chapter 19: SVAFA

  “No!” Svafa bellowed the word out as she rocked back onto her heels and howled at the sky. “No, no, no!”

  A hand reached over and touched her shoulder. She recoiled. Turning, she glared at Hedinn.

  “Don’t touch me!” she roared. “Don’t you ever lay your hands on me!”

  “But you told Helgi you would marry me.”

  Svafa wanted to punch Hedinn. Never had she felt the need to elicit such violence but now she wanted to curl her fist up into a tight ball and release her pent-up anger via Hedinn’s face. She wondered what it would feel like to snap someone’s nose.

  “I only told him that to make him happy,” she seethed through clenched teeth. “I am done with this world. I am done with the human existence and the world of the gods alike!”

  She saw the glint of Helgi’s dagger. The weapon had been left, forgotten in the dust and panic of Helgi’s mortal wound. Now, it seemed to speak to her, calling her name with an incessant attraction that she could never repel.

  Reaching over, she grabbed the knife and Hedinn stepped back.

  “Whoa,” he said, his hands out in front of him, palms upwards, like this could be negotiated.

  But, it couldn’t. Helgi was dead and she wanted nothing more to do with this world. If she couldn’t have Helgi in life, she was certainly not settling for the shell of his existence in Valhalla.

  Reaching high with the dagger, she stabbed at the sky. “Where are you, gods?”

  A roll of sudden thunder cracked across the sky and she knew it was a warning. She didn’t care.

  “Show yourselves!”

  More thunder.

  “I will not negotiate with Thor, nor will I negotiate with you, Odin. Here are my words, this is my truth!”

  There was no thunder this time but the air stilled around her, as if the gods were waiting to hear what she had to say.

  “I am done with you all. I have lived my life with Helgi, I have found love with him and it is enough. My life is complete now and I welcome death.”

  She breathed deeply before plunging the dagger deep into her chest.

  The weapon slid easily through her ribs and burned with a fire that was excruciating.

  Svafa felt her body becoming heavy and she dropped the dagger. Her body crumpled to the ground as she waited for death to come.

  Chapter 20: FREYA

  The goddess gasped as the tingle of cold dread enveloped her body. It had happened. One of her Valkyries was dying.

  “Odin!” Freya called his name. Her voice was shrill with fear. “Something is wrong.”

  Her fingers were clammy, sticking to her robe as she clutched it. She could feel time slow down until seconds felt like years.

  “What is it, Freya?” Odin asked as he appeared. He had a spear in one hand and a dagger in the other as if he had been in the midst of training when her call summoned him. Freya ran forward and grabbed Odin’s arm, pulling him towards her, dragging him away fr
om the great hall.

  “We have to leave now,” she insisted. “Someone is dying.”

  Odin chuckled. “Someone is always dying.”

  “Not a human,” she said, her words rushing out as she continued to drag the mighty god through the grand entry doors leading to Valhalla’s great hall. “Although, I fear that too.”

  He resisted Freya, planting his feet and drawing her to a stop. Once Odin decided not to move, not even Thor and his mighty hammer would change the fact. “What are you talking about?”

  “Can’t you feel it? One of our own is dying.”

  Odin’s face stilled, his gaze spreading out and Freya waited patiently even though she wanted to scream and pummel at his chest.

  “There is something happening,” Odin finally replied.

  “It’s a Valkyrie, I’m sure of it.” She knew well within herself what was going on. Yet, Odin had no idea about Loki’s plan and her involvement. “It’s Svafa.”

  “Can you tell me any more?” Odin relaxed his broad stance and Freya immediately started steering him forward once more.

  “Let’s get to my chariot and you can drive while I search out what is going on.”

  Her chariot was nearby and she could feel time slipping away. Earlier, it had appeared to slow but now it felt like she would never reach their destination in time.

  Her felines, who were tasked with pulling her chariot, roared out at her when she approached. Freya absently patted each one on the head as she jumped aboard. Odin quickly followed and grabbed the reins. Slapping them down on the backs of the cats, the chariot jolted forward. Freya’s knuckles went white as she clung to the rim. Closing her eyes, she yet her mind wander, to reach out and search for the calamity that was unfolding.

  “Helgi is dead,” Freya said.

  “The curse?” Odin asked.