The Northern Enigma - Part 38

“They will not follow you here,” the man with the axe said. “Not now. But it is better not to stay out here. Get inside. Wotan, continue to light the beacons. Kardan, stable the horses and protect Wotan. When you’re done, follow us inside.”

Miranda grabbed her sword from her horse first before she followed the others.

“You seem very unsurprised by what Miranda just said,” Falco remarked. “You know of these things?”

“We’re having a Dragon Storm,” the man replied. “Of course we know of these things.”

“Then how can you be so certain they won’t follow us inside?” Falco said.

“We are lighting the sacred beacons and leaving offerings at the pedestals.”

“Offerings?” Falco asked surprised.

“Mostly some food, mead and items of everyday use. But also some silver and gold coins and jewelry. It appeases them.”

“Appeases?” Falco said with clear contempt in his voice. “You don’t appease things like that! You destroy them!”

Stavik abruptly stopped walking and turned to him.

“These are not mere undead, boy. They are led by the Dolmen King! And he is a Draugir! Ancient and dangerous. It has been tried to destroy them in a distant past and every attempt has ended in disaster and more followers for him to command. It is better to appease him. These offerings are taxes to him. He is pleased with them and takes them back to his dolmen. That is the way we handle him.”

“So you give him food, although I don’t know what an undead needs food and mead for, and gold and silver every time there’s a Dragon Storm?” Miranda asked.

“Yes, we do. Now follow me inside.”

“Did you hear that, F … Thialfi? They’ve been doing this for the gods know how long. There must be quite a treasure inside of that ancient grave. Maybe we should have a look at it after this storm is over.”

“With the questionable effectiveness of my blood?”

“That’s probably caused by the Dragon Storm. When it’s over, I’m sure we can deal with anything that is inside that Dolmen.”

“Forget it. If they are too cowardly to deal with this problem, why would I bother? We don’t have time for this crap. Besides, I don’t do side quests anymore. I just want to get this thing over and go home. End of discussion.”

Miranda sighed but said nothing more. They turned another corner and stood in front of a double door, ornately decorated with wood carvings.

“You can travel further tonight if you really want to, but I would advise you to stay with us for the rest of the day and night. It’s not safe to travel under a Dragon Storm. Most people are smart enough to know that,” Stavik said.

“What kind of place is this?” Miranda asked. “A mead hall?”

“No. Not a mead hall. It’s a temple guesthouse, dedicated to Heimdall. This is a resting place for weary pilgrims on their way to Aegir’s Ferry and then Urvalor. And a boundary post.”

“A boundary post?”

“The territory of Aegir’s Ferry begins right here. Which means, from here , the laws of sanctuary apply. No more fighting or killing is allowed here, on pain of imprisonment or exile. Remember that, both of you.”

“Even when those things are lurking about outside?” Falco asked.

“Especially then. Violence and certainly death would attract the Draugir and his followers. It would be extremely dangerous to have deadly fighting inside during a Dragon Storm at night. My name is Stavik, by the way. I am a priest of Heimdall.”

Stavik opened the door and they entered a hall with several large and a number of smaller tables. A fire was burning in the hearth and lamps were lit. A staircase led to a landing that ran along three of the four walls, with side corridors and doors that led to other rooms. At a table in the back of the hall, three men were sitting that looked very familiar to Miranda. It were the ones that Falco had beaten up in the village the previous evening. They recognized Falco as well, judging by their reaction.

“Oh, great,” Falco growled. “The goon squad is here as well.”

“How did they get here so fast?” Miranda gasped.”

“They arrived very late last night,” Steven replied. “Contrary to you lot, they didn’t continue their journey when they recognized the signs of an upcoming Dragon Storm.”

“Of course we didn’t,” the tallest of the three, a man with a broken nose and braids in his blond hair, said. “You have to be a fool to ignore a Dragon Storm.” He stood up and pointed the goblet in his hand to Falco. “I wouldn’t allow him in, priest Stavik.”

“You know each other?” the priest asked.

“We met briefly,” Falco replied. “I had to teach them a lesson in manners.”

“He attacked us in Rorchaek for no reason,” the man continued.

Stavik raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Oh, alright. I just mentioned that the mead hall was no place for milk drinkers. Well, just look at him. Beardless and looking like a pup. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I am looking at him, Tubar. You are telling me that the beardless pup attacked you? He alone against the tree of you? I see no marks on him. So that must mean that he bested …”

“Enough!” Tubar growled. “It’s not important who got beaten. There was a fight over nothing and he started it. That’s all that matters. He’s aggressive and violent. He’ll never respect the sanctuary.”

“If I denied access to the temple guesthouse to everybody who was violent and aggressive, I wouldn’t be able to allow anybody on these islands in.”

“True, but not everybody on the islands has blood on his hands.”

“What do you mean by that?” Stavik asked.

“The same day of the fight, later that evening and just before we left to travel over here, we heard the guards talking. They had found several dead shepherds on the road to the south. He came from that direction as well. The woman probably too. I’m sure he killed them.”

“Look, there is no proof at all that Thialfi has anything to do with that,” Miranda interrupted.

“I killed them, yes,” Falco said calmly.

Miranda rolled her eyes. The priest and the men stared at him.

“Shepherds or bandits,” Falco continued, “I’m not in the habit of handing over my horse and possessions to just anybody who demands it.”

“They were trying to rob you?”

“Yes. They made the same mistake as Tubar over there and thought I was an easy prey to have some fun with. They paid for that mistake. I will respect your sanctuary, Stavik, as long as everybody else respects it as well.”

“Alright, I will take your word for it.”

“You’ll regret it. Mark my words,” Tubar growled.

“Enough now. Enjoy your meal and the mead, Tubar and make peace with this young man and the Blade Sister, even if it is just for the duration of your stay.”

Tubar grumbled, turned away from Falco and Miranda and concentrated on his food. Falco shrugged, walked deeper inside the common room of the Heimdall guesthouse, chose a table near the fire and took a seat, throwing the saddlebags and the large backpack that contained his armor on the floor next to him. Miranda lingered near the entrance with Stavik. She noticed the doubtful look on the priest’s face.

“Ehm … we’ll be happy to make use of your hospitable offer,” she said. “And we will of course respect your rules.”

“You better. This being a sanctuary does not mean we can’t handle trouble makers. Heimdall priests are well trained in the art of war.”

“I’m sure they are,” Miranda nodded.

“Mm. Anyway, if you wish, you can spend the night in this common room. Not very comfortable, but it is free. We don’t turn away any pilgrims. You can eat your own supplies as well. However, if you prefer a soft bed and a good meal, we can provide that as well, but it will cost you.”

“Thialfi, did you hear …?” Miranda said.

Falco threw a big, well filled purse on the table.

“Make whatever arrangements you like. Money is no issue,” he said.

“We have very nice rooms with a double bed and its own fireplace,” Stavik suggested. “That is, if you prefer one room …?”

“Ehm, no. Two rooms, please.”

“I see. Considering the way you two were bickering, I kind of assumed …”

“Are you nuts! I’m old enough to be his … older sister! And since money isn’t an issue, I would like two meals as well. With plenty of meat and stuff. We need to regain our strength.”

“I’ll arrange it.”

Miranda nodded at Stavik and walked towards Falco. She snatched the purse off the table and threw it in his lap.

“Don’t be so ostentatious with that money!” she hissed. “You should know better. You never know who is watching! And where did you get it anyway?”

“Where do you think? I picked up a few items before I left the home of that nice old lady.”

“You tell him, Sister,” Tubar interrupted. “Learn that boy some manners before it gets him into trouble.”

Miranda rolled her eyes, walked over to Tubar, placed her hands on the table and stared him in the eyes.

“Why don’t you just shut your trap, alright?” she hissed. “You may think that pissing him off so he attacks you is a smart move to get him thrown out of here, but how much will you enjoy that triumph when you are pinned to a wall, choking on your own blood? It he gets going now, there isn’t a force in this world, not even me, that can stop him from ripping off your head. So I suggest you pipe down. Got it?”

“Wow, easy there, Blade Sister. I meant no offense. Just giving some good advice. That’s all.”

“Keep your advice to yourself. And stop calling me sister. My name is Miranda.”

She turned her back on him and went back to her own table. Not much later, two well filled plates with food were placed before them. Miranda attacked it hungrily, but Falco only ate a few bites.

“I wanted to ask you,” Miranda whispered to him so nobody could hear, “what is a Draugir? Never heard of that before in Tarquinia.”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Falco replied. “But I seem to remember something from the lessons Calvin gave me. They’re a kind of super undead. They are not vampires or necromancers, but more like … ehm … intelligent zombies or skeletons. They still have conscious and can command other undead. That’s the legend anyway. I never heard of a Draugir turning up in Midgard. Maybe they only exist on the Viku islands.”

“I see.”

“Yeah. Well, any further questions will have to wait for another time. I’m going to bed.”

“But it’s still early! And you have hardly touched your food …”

“Stop nagging about that. You’re not my mother. I’m tired and I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

Without another word, he got up and left. Miranda stayed longer in the common room, staring gloomily in front of her.



Miranda woke up with a start. She was used to sleeping lightly, like most adventurers and mercenaries, and she instinctively knew something was wrong. A noise had disturbed her sleep and it wasn’t the thunder of the Dragon Storm that was still raging. She moved her head slightly and opened her eyes a little. Her room was dark as it was still in the middle of the night. She couldn’t see anything moving. Quietly, she slipped out of bed and, wearing nothing but a loincloth, walked over to the window. Despite the rain, the sacred beacons that had been lit by the priests of Heimdall were still burning and the scales with offerings were still there. Some were empty. Others were not. It was very unsettling to see those pale, baleful lights, coming from the eyes of the undead, move slowly in the darkness between the trees.

There it was again! Crashing sounds, barely disguised by the rolling thunder. They came from within the temple guesthouse! Miranda grabbed her sword, that had been standing next to her bed, and pulled the blade from the sheath. She moved silently to the door, opened it at a crack and peeked through it into the corridor. Candles were burning in their holders, casting a dim, flickering light. All was quiet. Miranda opened the door completely, grabbed some clothes and stepped outside. She hesitated at Falco’s room, holding up her hand to knock on the door, but then changed her mind and walked on.

She left the corridor and arrived on the landing. Below, she could see Stavik coming out of another door on the first floor in his night attire and walk into the hall, a candle in one hand and a large dagger in the other. He looked up at her.

“Having trouble sleeping?” he whispered.

“No, I heard something.”

“Yeah, me too. Did you see anything upstairs?”

“No, but I only walked through this corridor. Shouldn’t we wake the others?”

“No need to alarm the whole household yet. It may be just a cat, pushing something to the floor.”

“Yes … that’s why you are holding a dagger and I brought my sword.”

“The Dragon Storm is still raging, sister. Caution is not recommended but obligatory. Join me, if you like. We shall check the guesthouse together.”

“Alright, but stop calling me sister. My name is Miranda.”

“As you wish.”


Miranda walked down the stairs and followed Stavik through the hall. He was going for a door behind the bar. The Guesthouse was different from most of the mead halls she had seen on the Viku islands. It was more like an inn or a hotel in Midgard. For one, there was no big spit in the middle of the hall with a roaring fire beneath and meat roasting on it. So it was no surprise to her that the room behind the bar was a kitchen.

“Everything seems just fine in here,” Miranda said. “No broken plates on the floor or …”

“I was sure the sound was coming from here. Let’s check the storage room. It’s just through there!”

Miranda noticed another door that she hadn’t seen at first. A door that was half hidden behind some crates and bags. Stavik grabbed the handle and frowned.

“What’s the matter?”

Stavik looked at her over his shoulder.

“We always keep this locked so nobody can go snacking on his own initiative. It’s  not locked anymore. Only I and Wotan have a key.”

Miranda raised her sword and nodded.

“I’m ready.”

Stavik momentarily placed his dagger on one of the crates, unlocked the door and pushed it open. There was no movement inside, but they did see a small oil lamp standing on one of the shelves. It was lit and spread a weak light through the storage room. Stavik grabbed his dagger and walked inside, immediately followed by Miranda. The room was big. Bigger than the kitchen and it was full with racks and chests and cabinets and piles of floor sacks and crates, forming a little labyrinth. Stavik turned right and Miranda walked straight ahead.

“Wotan, are you in here?” Stavik said in a half loud voice.

Miranda didn’t speak or yell for Wotan, although she heard Stavik repeat the question several times as he went deeper in the storage room. The most logical explanation was that Wotan had gone for a midnight snack and had pushed something over. But all her instincts, honed after years of mercenary life, told her something was very wrong. She could smell trouble. Miranda turned another corner and walked into a scene of chaos. One of the racks had keeled over. Broken bottles and jugs were spread all over the floor, their contents spilled over the stone tiles. She took a step closer, stopped, clutched her sword even tighter in her hands and quickly glanced around.

“Stavik!”

“What?”

“I found Wotan. You better come over here.”

“Something wrong?”

“Yes, something is definitely wrong.”

Seconds later, Stavik arrived and followed Miranda’s gaze. Under the pile of debris and broken items lay the body of Wotan.

“By the gods! What happened? An accident?”

“Not likely,” Miranda replied, getting down on one knee beside the corpse and removing a burlap sack that had partially covered Wotan’s face. His dead eyes stared at the ceiling.
“Look at the bruises in his neck and how his face is starting to turn blue. Someone has first tried to strangle him and then broke his neck. He pulled down these racks in the struggle. And because of the strangling, he couldn’t call out.”

“You mean, he’s dead? Wotan is dead! Oh gods, this is bad! Fucking bad!”

“Yes, it seems you have a killer within these walls,” Miranda replied.

“That killer will be the last of our concerns if we don’t act quickly! We have to get his body to the temple proper! Now! And alert the other guests and my men!”

“What do you mean, the killer is the last of our worries?” Miranda asked.

“Have you forgotten what’s outside? Our offerings and the ceremonial fires will appease them under normal conditions, but not if there’s a body inside, with a soul passing over to Valhalla! The King of the Dolmen will sense him! He will try to get in! We don’t have much time!”

“Then we better act fast. You ring the alarm or whatever it is you have to do to rally everybody and I’ll start carrying the body to wherever you want it to be. Go! I’m stronger than I look.”

Stavik ran out of the storage room. Miranda removed as much debris as she could, lifted Wotan off the ground and draped him over her shoulder. With some effort, she stumbled towards the door, when two things happened. She heard a horn blowing and a cracking sound coming from the other end of the storage room. Miranda immediately stopped and turned around. For a moment she thought she could see movement in the darkness. She startled terribly and almost dropped the body, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“I sounded the alarm,” Stavik said. “I came back to help you with Wotan. What’s the matter?”

“I thought I saw something move in the back. And I heard a cracking sound. Like wood splintering.”

“I can’t see anything. We don’t have time to look right now. If somebody is still in here, he’s got no place to go! There is no other exit. We’ll lock this door and come back when the others have arrived.”

“Wotan had a key.”

“And my unfortunate friend still has it hanging from his keyring at his belt. Come! There’s a much graver danger outside!”

Reluctant, Miranda followed Stavik back to the kitchen and the common room. The temple guards, only about half a dozen in number, were already there, while several servants were stumbling through the doors as well. On the landing, Tubar and his friends had appeared, not sure what was going on, but armed with swords and axes. Stavik quickly started spouting orders.

“Sergeant, you and your men, check every door and window. Make sure they are locked and barricaded! Kardan! Get all the supplies we need for a burial ceremony! We have to make sure Wotan passes over before the King can make use of his soul to get in here!”

“Wotan is dead?” Kardan gasped.

“Yes, and we will grieve over our friend, but explanations will have to wait till later. We need to perform the ceremony now!”

“What about his killer?” Miranda said. “Shouldn’t we check on the storage room as well, before we have more victims on our hands?”

“He was murdered? Who would be so foolish to murder someone during a Dragon Storm?” the sergeant exclaimed.

“Explanations later!” Stavik snapped. “But Miranda is right. Considering I saw her on the landing moments after I myself heard the ruckus preceding the murder, Miranda can’t possibly have killed Wotan. Miranda, will you check the storage room? The sergeant can send one of his men with you.”

Miranda nodded.

“Can we help?” Tubar asked. “Maybe I can join the search for the killer in the storage room?”

“I’d rather not,” Miranda said. “This requires warriors, not traveling merchants.”

“You can help seek the killer by joining my temple guards,” Stavik said. “Check every room to see if we have an intruder. Miranda will look at the storage room.”  


The temple guard opened the door and Miranda walked inside. They cautiously penetrated deeper into the storage room, while the temple guard held up an oil lamp. Systematically and efficiently, they combed the entire labyrinthine hall, until they reached the far end where Miranda had seen movement.

“There’s nobody in here anymore. You must have been mistaken,” the guard said.

“Maybe. I guess it could have been a rat … wait a minute! What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

“Look at the wall! You can see a crack there, in the planks.”

“Oh, that!?” the temple guard said. “That’s an old hatch with a platform that you can elevate to the second floor.”

“What? And you didn’t think it was important to tell me that?”

“We don’t use it anymore! The mechanism got broken and the dwarf that built it, isn’t around here anymore. So we nailed the hatch shut. Besides, It’s too small for a man to get through.”

“It’s not nailed shut anymore,” Miranda remarked, pointing at the wood splinters on the floor and the scratches on the wood. She opened the hatch and cautiously looked inside. “It may be too small for a bulky guy like Tubar or you, soldier, but a slender woman or a child could get through. I think even I could make it with a bit of effort. And the mechanism may be broken, but the rope is still here. Where does this end?”

“In a closet on the first floor, in the corridor adjacent to your rooms.”

“I see. Let’s get back to the common room. There’s nothing we can do here anymore. Tell Stavik what we found. I’m going to check that storage room.”


Miranda ran up the stairs, but she only glanced at the storage room. It was locked and she didn’t have a key. The storage room didn’t really interest her anyway. She was far more worried about something else. Where the hell was Falco? He was just as light a sleeper as she was and you had to be damn good to be able to sneak up on him, but he hadn’t reacted on any of the activity going on right now. And the guards and servants weren’t exactly quiet. She bounced her fist on his door.

“Falco! Shit, I mean, Thialfi! Are you alright? Open the door!”
She tried the handle, but the door was locked.

“Fuck this!” she growled.

Miranda kicked in the door and charged inside. She could see Falco lying in his bed, his arms wrapped around his pillow and facing the wall, away from her. He still seemed to be wearing his clothes. The former mercenary ran to him and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Falco! Are you alright?”

“Wh … what? Who …? Miranda …? What time is it? Did I over sleep?”

“Thank the gods,” Miranda sighed. “I thought something had happened! There’s a killer on the loose and you didn’t show up at all. What’s the matter with you? What happened to your legendary vigilance?”

“A killer?” he replied, slowly sitting up in his bed and still looking very sleepy. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“Wotan got murdered. Somebody broke his neck. It has been chaos down there and you slept through it. Come on, get out of bed. Stavik is afraid the murder may cause those undead to attack. We’ll need your sword and blood when they do.”

“What would be the point?” Falco asked, slowly swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “My blood doesn’t seem to work anymore.”

“Doesn’t matter. We still need you. I’ll get you gear ready!”

Miranda grabbed Falco’s sword, but the weight as usual surprised her and she accidentally pushed his backpack off the chair.

“Oops, let me get that for you,”

“No, wait! Leave that …”

When Miranda lifted up the backpack, it fell open and some clothes and a couple of bottles rolled out of it. One was green. The other red. Falco jumped out of bed and reached for them, but Miranda was faster.

“What the hell is this?”

“Nothing. It’s mine, so put it back.”

“These look like the kind of bottles sorcerers would use. Or necromancers. These are some of the items you took along from that hag’s hole! Are these the drugs she used on you? Green to put you down, red … Is this the berserker potion?”

“Put them back.”

“Is it?! Answer me!”

“Yes, damn it.”

“Why did you bring those along? This crap is poison and you know it!”

“It may have its uses! If we know how to produce this, we could create an army of berserkers. Nobody will be able to stand against me then.”

“An army of berserkers? Have you gone insane? You want to submit your men to this filth? Have you forgotten what happened when you got a dose of this in your system? You ripped apart anything and anyone in sight. How do you think normal people would react to this? You think they can survive it? For all we know, that ogre who guarded you, might have been a normal human once but was transformed because of this shit. And what about your eyes? Your blood? You can’t see in the dark as well as you could before and your eyes look downright creepy! And your blood doesn’t kill the undead anymore! You think that just happened? Who knows how long that shit will stay in your system? Maybe it will never leave … unless …”

She suddenly got a look of suspicion and horror in her eyes.

“Unless … you are still using this crap! Have you been taking this, while you were in those accursed hills on your own? Is that where the aggression comes from? Why you don’t eat?”

“No! Of course I’m not using that stuff anymore! I never wanted to use it in the first place!”

“Oh really!? But you still felt compelled to take these bottles along! And why is this red one not entirely full, eh? Why wouldn’t you take a full bottle along? You have been using this shit!”

She pointed her finger accusingly at him.

“It can’t be! It was full when I took it along and I never used it myself! I don’t want to.”

“Oh? Then you won’t mind if I do this!”

Miranda suddenly threw the bottles against the wall and smashed them in a thousand pieces. Falco jumped furiously from his bed.

“No! Don’t! That was mine! How dare you? You stupid, fucking mercenary!” he screamed in anger.

“And you’re a stupid boy who’s either a junk or wallowing in self pity. Maybe even both! Gods! Where’s the kid I met in Jotunheim?” Miranda yelled back at him.

“Why don’t I show you where he is …” Falco growled, clenching his fists and stepping forward.

“Hey! What’s going on in here? Sanctuary rules still apply, you know! Even if we are threatened by a killer inside and the Dolmen King outside. You two aren’t going to fight, are you?”

Falco and Miranda both looked at the door. Tubar was standing there.

“The priest wants us all downstairs. We need to be present at the ceremony. Are you coming?”

Falco made a growling sound, lowered his fists, snatched his boots and sword and walked straight by Miranda and out of the door.

“I’m coming. Nothing in here that keeps me.”

Tubar stared at the mercenary. Her face seemed made of stone, but she too left the room and went downstairs. Everybody seemed to have assembled there already.

“Ah good,” Stavik said. “We have to hurry. Wotan’s body has already been placed on the pyre in the temple. We have to start the ceremony right now. The beacons will not hold the King back for much longer.”

Stavik started to walk to one of the doors, but Tubar’s voice stopped him.

“Maybe so, but we do need two more minutes to take care of something else.”

Stavik stopped and looked at Tubar.

“This better be important.”

“Wotan’s killer. We need to secure him. No ceremony for Wotan will protect us if he makes another victim.”

“Maybe so, but we don’t have time for an investigation yet. First, we must …”

“I know who it is.”

“What? Who?”

“Him of course,” Tubar said, pointing at Falco. “He did it.”
The crowd backed away from Falco, who stared angrily at Tubar.

“Trying to get some easy vengeance for the trashing I gave you earlier, you fucking coward?” he growled.

“It has nothing to do with that. Think about it! He’s an aggressive little shit who has been stealing and murdering all along to get his gear. He’s clearly not a shepherd, yet part of his clothing is typically shepherd’s clothing. Remember those dead shepherds on the road to Rorchaek? He even admitted killing them! He probably would have tried to do the same to us if Miranda hadn’t intervened in the village. And when I entered their room just now, he was about to attack her. And she’s the closest thing to a friend he has.”

“That … is very disturbing. Is this true?” Stavik asked.

“I …” Falco said.

Miranda suddenly jumped between him and Tubar and Stavik.

“We were just having an argument,” she said. “We do that all the time. I threw some stuff against the wall, he yelled at me, I yelled back. No biggie! We’ve never actually come to blows!”

“You could have fooled me,” Tubar said. “Besides, he was missing all night. He was not with his friend when she heard the noise and went investigating. I say, he went out to steal supplies or find more gold this night. He came across Wotan, who was taking a midnight snack. They struggled and Thialfi murdered him. Then, he tried to leave, using the door, but he could already hear Miranda and Stavik coming his way. So he ran back inside and finally escaped by breaking open that hatch, for which he’s slender enough, and sneaking back to his room, where Miranda found him. Supposedly sleeping. Only, he was wearing his clothes. Who sleeps in his clothes?”

“How do you know that?” Miranda snapped.

“I didn’t. I assumed he did and now you’ve confirmed it.”

“I confirmed nothing, you asshole. Thialfi didn’t murder anybody. He wouldn’t just go killing people and … and stealing … stuff.”

“Listen to her!” Tubar said. “She doesn’t even believe it herself. Don’t delude yourself, sister. That so-called friend of yours is a murderer and a thief.”

Miranda glanced at Falco. Going out at night, stealing things, killing … Falco the jarl wouldn’t do that but the younger Falco, the one that had been known as Claw had been doing that all the time. Maybe her earlier wish to see the Falco she had met in Jotunheim had already been fulfilled in a way she had not intended to. And if he really had been taking that berserker potion on a regular basis, there was no telling what he might have done. He wasn’t himself. It wasn’t his fault, but there was no way she could explain that to the others. She grabbed the hilt of her sword and pushed Falco backwards, out of the circle of people.

“Thialfi didn’t do anything,” she said. “Now calm down all of you. We already wasted enough time and we have to perform that ceremony.”

“True,” Stavik said. “But it doesn’t harm to take some precautions. I want to restrain your friend.”

“The first one who touches me …”

“Shut up, Thialfi! What do you mean, Stavik?” Miranda asked.

“It’s for his and our own protection. I promise we will be investigating this thoroughly after the ceremony. It will be fair, I guarantee it. You can hold on to his sword and other weapons if you like, but I want his hands bound for the moment.”

Miranda glanced at the throng of people around her. There were half a dozen temple guards, not counting Stavik, at least as many servants and Tubar and his friends. If she had been alone, it would have been problematic, but with Falco at her side, the odds were not impossible. But then, there were undead scratching at the barred doors and windows. Even more violence and death would certainly bring them inside. Not to mention the fact they were all innocent and didn’t deserve to die.

“You give me your word you will be fair?” she said.

Stavik nodded.

“What are you talking about?” Falco snarled. “Miranda, you can’t …!”
Miranda grabbed him roughly by his shirt, ripping it open, and pushed him against the wall.

“Listen to me,” she hissed. “We will sort this out, but we can’t do it by fighting our way out of here! Try to clear your mind for a sec and …”

Falco started to struggle furiously. Miranda immediately felt she wouldn’t be able to hold him for very long.

“You filthy traitor! You’re doing it again!” he yelled. “You’re handing me over …”

He suddenly fell silent and stared down at his belly through his ripped shirt. His eyes went wide with surprise and his mouth fell open.

“What …?” he whispered.

Miranda looked down as well, but before she could see what he was looking at, Tubar punched Falco full in the face with his fist. The young jarl went down on one knee. Miranda pushed Tubar back, but the sergeant and two of his temple guards threw themselves on Falco and pushed him to the ground.

“Easy, easy!” Stavik yelled. “Every act of violence will make the beacons weaker and the Dolmen King stronger! Just restrain and bind him!”

“I didn’t do it, you fuckers!” Falco roared.

“Enough,” Miranda yelled. She grabbed Falco’s face with both hands and looked him in the eyes. “Stop fighting back. Trust me! It will be fine.”

“It is gone,” he yelled at her. “It’s gone!”

“What …?”

He no longer resisted. While the men twisted his arms on his back and called for leather straps to bind him, he looked down. Miranda followed his gaze and looked at his naked chest and belly through the open shirt. At first she didn’t understand. There was nothing unusual to see. Nothing unusual?! Where was the necromantic creature that had attached itself to him?

The loud sound of breaking glass and wood suddenly reverberated through the hall. The wood of the blinds of the windows began to splinter and they could see a rotten, decaying, almost skeletal hand grabbing at it to from outside.

“There is no more time,” Stavik exclaimed. “We have to get to the temple!”

“I will lead the way,” the sergeant shouted. “Follow …”

His words were broken off, when a pale, fleshy tentacle suddenly wrapped itself around his neck and cut off his breath. His eyes starting bulging out of their sockets as he was lifted off the floor. Everybody stumbled back and looked up. On the ceiling, a jellyfish like thing was clinging to a wooden beam with two of its six tentacles. A gasp of horror went through the hall.

“Cut him loose! Cut the sergeant loose!” Stavik yelled.

The guards shook off their surprise and charged in. The creature’s remaining tentacles lashed out, piercing through a guard’s eye and ripping through his brains. A second guard got a deep cut on his cheek and a third could only save his life by throwing himself to the ground. Stavik ran for his sergeant, but it was already too late. With a sickening cracking sound, the sergeant’s neck was snapped and his lifeless body hurled among his friends. Stavik smashed to the ground. He felt blood running in his eyes.

“Heimdall, help us,” he groaned. “Two more dead. There’s  no stopping them anymore now.”


“Cut me loose, cut me loose, cut me loose,” Falco yelled, while all around, wooden doors and barred windows broke and splintered.

“I’m on it,” Miranda said.

She knelt down behind him and grabbed her dagger.

“That thing … I had no idea it could move on its own,” Falco stammered while Miranda was cutting at the straps. “It must have gone to look for food!”

“It may have done more than that,” Miranda replied. “If you’re telling me the truth and you didn’t use that potion yourself, it may have done it for you.”

“Wotan, the sergeant, …  I brought that thing in here …”

“Shut up!” Miranda hissed. “Nobody knows and it will have to stay that way. You can feel guilty over something you couldn’t help if we survive this. Looks like you’re going to have to deal with this ‘side quest’ after all. The undead are breaking through.”

“How? My  blood doesn’t work on those things! They don’t stay down.”

“We’ll worry about that later! First survive that thing!” Miranda yelled.

She threw herself against him and they both rolled over the floor. Two tentacles missed them by a hair. The creature was swinging with amazing speed and agility from beam to beam, using two of its tentacles. Two others were slashing at the guards and servants and the last two constantly reached and grabbed in the direction of the young jarl. Falco pushed Miranda away and rolled, dived and jumped to stay out of its reach.

“Keep your distance,” Falco yelled at Miranda. “It’s after me!”

Tubar grabbed his throwing axe and hurled it to the creature. It missed, but chopped off one of its tentacles instead. All around, skeletons and zombies were breaking through the barricades and crawling inside. Stavik decapitated one of them, trying to get through a window. Temple guards and servants were either trying to fight or run away from the nightmare creature and the undead.

Falco grabbed a chair and intercepted one of the tentacles. He yanked the chair away, trying to dislodge the creature, but it held on. A second tentacle lashed out and wrapped itself around his neck. Miranda tried to come to his aid, but she was attacked by two skeletons and a zombie who stumbled through the broken door. The tentacle held on tight, but it didn’t choke Falco or tried to break his neck. And finally, Falco understood. Of course that thing wouldn’t try to kill him. It was trying to return to him to continue its task. He let go of the chair and opened his arms. The creature made a strange piercing sound, released the beam and launched itself towards him at incredible speed. Falco waited … and then, swung his sword. At the last moment, the thing was cut in half in mid-air and fell to the floor, twitching in its death throws.

Falco quickly stabbed both halves several times in rapid succession and then looked around. All over the hall, Stavik and his guards and servants were fighting the undead. So was Tubar, who seemed surprisingly skilled in wielding an axe, and his two friends. Miranda had struck down one of the skeletons and was about to finish off the zombie as well.

A cold gust of wind, accompanied by icy rain, flew through the door, when the Dolmen King himself suddenly appeared. He was tall and clad in ancient, bronze armor. A crowned helmet rested on his decaying skull. A pale light shone from his eyes. Cold steel flickered in his ringed fingers. He struck down one of the temple guards who bravely tried to attack him and moved deeper inside.

Falco squinted his eyes. Was it his imagination or … did he just see small sparks of the baleful light split off from the Dolmen King and fly to … the skeleton and zombie Miranda had just destroyed. The light in their hollow eyes flickered and ignited again. Some of the sparks flew over Falco’s head. Behind him, in the middle of the hall, the dead temple guards were slowly rising as well.

“Fenrir’s Fang’s, it’s not my blood that isn’t working! It’s the Dolmen King! That Draugir can reanimate his followers!” he gasped.

The Draugir suddenly moved with amazing speed, killing a servant and knocking over one of Tubar’s men and attacked Miranda. She could barely withstand the power of his blade strikes. Falco took off to help her, but tripped and fell hard on his belly. He glanced back and to his horror, saw one half of the creature still moving, despite his savage attack. One of its remaining two tentacles had wrapped itself around his ankle. Falco snapped his head back towards Miranda. The Dolmen King had grabbed her by the throat. She had slammed her sword in his chest, but it didn’t even slow him down. Slowly, he started to lift her from the ground.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Falco cursed.

He looked at his sword, but remembered the weight it had for anybody else except him. So he pulled one of his daggers instead, cut himself in the arm and screamed:

“Miranda, catch!”

The dagger flew through the air and, with perfect coordination, Miranda caught it and slammed it in the Dolmen King’s eye. The Draugir uttered a horrifying scream and stumbled back. Miranda dropped to the floor and, just for good measure, pulled her sword from the king’s chest and chopped off one of his legs. The Draugir fell backwards, a greenish grey mist surrounded his body as it dissolved into thin air. The skeletons and zombies abruptly stopped their attack and fell lifeless to the floor.

Falco finished off the creature that was holding on to his ankle, jumped up and ran to Miranda, while the others hesitantly poked and stabbed at the motionless corpses. He grabbed her by the arm and turned her around.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Just a few scratches. You?”

“Same. Ehm … I … Miranda … I …”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I know you wouldn’t betray me.”

“I know that. It was that potion speaking. You should probably be careful with what you say and do the coming days. We have no idea when it will be out of your system.”

“Yeah, I guess so …”

“I should apologize as well. For a moment there, I really thought you killed Wotan. Anyway, we’ll talk more later. Now is not the time.”

“Hail the Blade Sister!” Stavik roared and everybody joined him. “Hail the Blade Sister for defeating the Dolmen King! She did what nobody could do before!”

“But I’m no Blade Sister and it wasn’t really me …,” she began to say, unheard by everybody except her young friend standing by her side.

Falco grabbed her hand, held it up in the air and yelled:

“Hail Miranda! She saved us all! Our hero!”

“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed.

“Just go with it!” he whispered back. “You deserve this! You’re my hero! And you did slay the Dolmen King!”  

Miranda sighed, smiled and held up her sword by way of greeting, as the others ran to her and slapped her on the shoulders to congratulate her.