Viking Beer Stein
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“We’ll take our ale with us and drink it on the road,” Thorfast said. “I have some fine ale for us.”
As they made their way down the stairs, a crowd of people gathered outside to see them off. They were led by an elderly man in robes who carried a staff adorned with carved runes. His beard was long enough to reach his chest and he wore a feathered hat that looked like it might belong at a Renaissance fair rather than Valhalla.
The old priest gave each member of the crew a blessing as they passed. When he got to Ragnar, he paused and touched his hand before continuing.
Ragnar smiled as the man’s fingers lingered upon his palm. He had no idea what sort of blessing this was or if there even was one, but it felt nice. It seemed fitting, though, after all the time and effort he’d put into getting here.
He turned to look back at Bjorn and realized the boy wasn’t looking behind him anymore; he was staring up at the sky instead. A breeze ruffled his hair and he stood straight-backed against the wind, his eyes wide open and focused. In his right hand, he held the horn that Ragnar had given him earlier.
Bjorn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He didn’t say anything, but when he finally turned around again, he smiled and raised the horn to his lips. With his free hand, he pointed toward where they would go next.
“To the land of the gods!” he shouted over the wind.
The men laughed and cheered as they mounted their horses. As soon as Bjorn finished his last note, he reached into the pouch at his belt and pulled out the gold coin from King Olaf’s hoard.
“Let’s make sure we get good beer once we’re home,” he told Ragnar. “And lots of women too.”
Ragnar nodded and then he and Bjorn rode off together, leaving the others behind. Soon, only Odin and Thor remained.
Odin shook his head. “It seems your son is growing up well. I’ve never seen anyone play a horn quite so well.”
“You know, he just learned how to blow that thing two weeks ago,” Ragnar said.
Odin grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, he has certainly shown himself to be gifted. You should give him lessons.”
“If I can spare the time, perhaps I will.”
They walked together through the hall, past the statues of heroes and monsters, until they came to the door that led to the entrance hall. There, Loki was waiting for them. She leaned forward and kissed Odin on both cheeks.
“Good luck to you, Father,” she whispered in his ear. Then she stepped aside and watched as Odin opened the door and stepped outside.
After Loki disappeared, Ragnar closed the door and turned back to face her. “Why did you do that?” he asked.
“Do what?”
“Send my father away. Did you want me to stay behind? Is that why you did it?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I wanted your father to see what you are becoming. You’ve been living with your father far too much recently.”
She ran a finger along the edge of her sword. Her golden armor shone brightly in the sunlight. She glanced at Ragnar and continued, “Your father does not approve of my presence in Asgard, nor do any of the other gods. But I am still alive, aren’t I?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then you must be doing something right.”
With that, she turned and strode away, disappearing into the trees. Ragnar stared at the spot where she’d stood for several seconds before turning to leave Valhalla himself.
His mind was full of thoughts about Loki: about what she meant to him, about what he thought she was trying to accomplish. For months now, he’d sensed tension between them and he knew there were things she wasn’t telling him, things she feared he wouldn’t understand.
Perhaps he couldn’t forgive her for what she’d done to his mother and brother, but he could try to trust her, which was more than most of the gods cared to do.
He also thought about what she had said: that she wanted to help him find his place among the gods. He didn’t think she truly understood how difficult that task might become. Even if he managed to win Odin’s approval, what sort of power would come with such a title?
He’d always hated being a king, and he was starting to realize that even if he won his father’s favor, he may have no choice but to remain one forever.
Still, he needed some answers. If Loki was willing to tell him what was going on, maybe that was worth it. He left the doors to Valhalla open behind him and followed after her.
***
Kari sat alone by the fire, wrapped in blankets and shivering despite the heat of the flames. The storm had passed hours ago and the rain had stopped, yet the cold remained. All she heard was the sound of her own breathing, barely audible over the crackle of the dying fire.
Her thoughts wandered to Jarl Orm, who lay dead beside her, having died sometime during the night. Kari had woken up to find him missing and gone searching for him. When she found him, he was lying on top of a hill, looking like an ice sculpture fallen from the heavens.
His body had already begun to stiffen; he looked almost frozen solid. She’d wrapped herself around him and held him close, hoping to warm him somehow. But it was all she could do to keep him from freezing completely. It seemed impossible that he was already gone.
But it was true. They’d known each other since they were children, and although their relationship had changed over the years, he had always been a friend to her, a protector. And when she’d returned to the land of the elves, he had stayed by her side. Now, though, it was clear he hadn’t made it home.
The elf maids had brought food and drink. Kari refused to eat or drink anything, knowing that the elves were preparing a funeral feast for her soon-to-be husband. As much as she loved Orm, she did not wish to join him today. Not while he was still here.
Instead, Kari took another sip of ale and tried to calm her racing heart. She felt as though she was drowning, and every breath burned inside her chest. Her eyes watered constantly and she wiped away tears with her fingers, leaving streaks of mud across her cheek. She missed the comfort of sleep so badly, but she dared not close her eyes lest she loses consciousness again.
In those days, Kari often dreamed of running down a long road, stumbling through a forest of trees, chased by someone who pursued her relentlessly. Each step she took caused the ground beneath her feet to shake, and each moment she was forced to pause only increased the pressure bearing down on her shoulders.
She never saw anyone else, only this man who came out of nowhere and pursued her wherever she went. In her dreams, he wore nothing but blood red, and she knew he was coming for her because she was his prey.
It had taken her many years to learn that the dream was a memory of a time before she was born. A time before she met Ragnar when she lived as a slave in the lands of the giants. Those were the times she’d escaped and traveled with Ragnar. She remembered the endless miles she ran, the forests and rivers and mountains, the endless nights spent sleeping under a blanket of stars.
She had learned to survive then, and she could do it again. She just needed to focus.
For the first few moments of waking, she wondered why she was back in this world. Then she realized she’d been dreaming. She’d seen her reflection in a stream and thought she saw a strange man following behind her, but she dismissed it as a trick of the light. That is until she reached the edge of the forest and turned to see him standing there, watching her.
His hair was dark brown, like the color of the sun, and cut short enough that it didn’t seem to cover any part of his head. He was tall and lean, and his skin bore scars that were too numerous and deep to be natural. He had two swords strapped at his waist, both scabbards engraved with runes and symbols she couldn’t begin to understand.
He stared at her, silent and unmoving, and she recognized him instantly.
“Jarl Orm?” she asked, trying to make sense of it all. “How? Why am I alive? Where are we?”
No answer came. Instead, he began walking toward her, sword raised and ready to strike.
That’s when she woke up.
Kari rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow, hiding from reality. For months now, she had been fighting something no one should ever have to fight: fear. Fear that she would die. Fear that she wouldn’t live to see Ragnar again. Fear that she wasn’t doing what she should be doing.
And she had lost more than she cared to admit to fear. Perhaps it was because of the loss of her father, maybe it was because of Ragnar, or perhaps it was simply because she feared losing her friends. Whatever it was, Kari had become a coward.
Now she understood how Odin must feel when he stood atop Valhalla and watched his sons fight against each other. She knew she shouldn’t let these fears control her life, but she also knew it was difficult to overcome them. There was nothing worse than having your greatest enemy right beside you, yet knowing he would kill you if he chose to.
I know. I’ve done that to my own brother, Kari thought bitterly.
There was something wrong with her. Something terribly, horribly wrong.
***
A single shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the room where Kari lay sleeping. The rays caught the golden threads woven into the fabric of the canopy above her bed and painted the walls a warm yellow. It seemed impossible that she had slept through an entire day. But it was true; Kari had barely opened her eyes once since awakening.
As she sat up and looked around the room, she noticed several elves sitting at the table near the door. They all wore their usual clothes of leather armor and fur cloaks. One of them, a young woman dressed in white and gold, spoke quietly to the others. When they finished talking, they rose and bowed deeply to Kari.
“Welcome to our home,” said the leader of the group. “We are honored to have you here.”
The elf was a beautiful creature, though Kari could not place exactly which race she belonged to. Her hair was the color of freshly fallen snow and hung straight past her shoulders. Like most elves, she had a thin nose and high cheekbones, and her pale blue eyes shone with intelligence. Yet she was so much different from the rest of her people that it was difficult to imagine her being related.
“You’re welcome here anytime,” added another elf, a stout male with bright red hair and a beard. His voice carried a hint of a Scottish accent, though it sounded less pronounced than Kari expected.
Another bow followed his words.
“Are you hungry, Lady Vanador?” the same female asked.
“Yes, please,” Kari answered.
They gathered food for her and brought it to her bedchamber while they continued to talk. The conversation grew more animated as Kari ate. Eventually, they were laughing together and telling jokes. The elves seemed happy to be among humans and were curious about Kari’s background.
She told them about her travels, and the story of Jarl Orm and her family, and they listened intently. After she explained the death of her mother, they all started crying.
When they stopped weeping, the elf who led the group introduced herself as Eira.
“What happened to my friend?” Kari asked, referring to the young boy they had rescued.
Eira shook her head sadly. “He died on the road last night. We tried to save him, but his injuries were too severe.”
“It was only by chance that I found us,” Kari admitted. “I can’t believe he survived as long as he did after falling off a horse like that.”
She had met many injured travelers along her journeys, and some lived and some didn’t. Sometimes the injuries weren’t fatal, such as broken bones or bruises, but sometimes they were. Many times those deaths occurred during winter storms. Now that spring was coming, the weather would change. Soon there might come a time when traveling north was no longer safe.
But Kari’s mind drifted back to the boy. He hadn’t been hurt badly enough to die, but he still deserved better than this. If anything, he deserved a proper funeral. And yet, there was nothing Kari could do for him.
“Lady Vanador, you will stay here until you recover,” Eira insisted.
Kari glanced down at her hands and arms. She was covered in dirt, grime, and blood, and her cloak was torn beyond repair. She had not bathed nor changed her clothing in days. “Can I return to the temple? At least there I’ll be able to wash up.”
One of the elves, a handsome man with dark skin and jet-black hair, nodded. “Of course. You may take your weapons as well, though we won’t allow you to leave without someone escorting you.”
“I understand,” Kari said.
After washing her face and hands, she walked out onto the balcony overlooking the gardens below. The sun was already setting, and the air felt fresh and crisp. It was a perfect night for walking. She took one last look at the palace before descending the stairs to the main hall.
“Where are you going?” Eira asked.
“I’m just going to walk outside,” Kari said. “Why does everyone assume I need protection? I don’t think I’m in any danger here.”
“No, you aren’t,” Eira agreed. “Yet. But if you go alone, it is possible you could get lost. Our paths lead away from the city center, and the forest grows deeper.”
“If anyone comes looking for me, tell them I’m in the garden,” Kari said. “And tell them I left my sword behind.”
A few minutes later, Eira escorted Kari into the courtyard and showed her the way to the garden. As they walked, Eira explained the layout of the grounds and pointed out a number of buildings and landmarks. Kari enjoyed the tour, and it helped pass the time while she waited for her wounds to heal.
As she reached the edge of the trees surrounding the property, Kari noticed something unusual about the path ahead. A small stream ran through the grassy area, and it had carved an opening between two large rocks.
When they got closer, Kari realized that the rock wall stretched across the entire space, leaving a narrow trail leading toward the south end of the valley. There appeared to be a tunnel under the stone barrier, perhaps dug years ago.
“Is that how you enter the city?” Kari wondered aloud.
“That is what our ancestors used,” Eira confirmed.
“Do you know where the tunnel ends?”
“We’ve never seen it end. For thousands of years, it has remained sealed. Only recently have we learned that it leads straight to the heart of the city.”
Kari smiled. “Then why hasn’t it been explored? Surely it must be full of treasure.”
“Our king, Lord Yvon, fears that if he opens the passage, demons will pour forth to attack him and his people. His ancestors came from far away, and he doesn’t want the same fate for us. They say the tunnels lead to a place called the Hells, and it is said the demons live there.”
The elf shrugged. “Some believe it. Others believe it is only the rumors spread by the demons themselves to keep us afraid. Either way, the king remains adamant that he will not open the tunnel. Some believe he is cursed and cannot do so even if he wanted to. Most of our people, however, wish he would try and see what happens. Perhaps then, the demons would finally stop attacking us.”
Kari shuddered. Demons. She had fought plenty of them over the past year, and she knew more were on their way. If she ever returned home, she needed to find out what kind of defenses her homeland possessed. If not, it was unlikely that her family would survive another attack.
They continued to walk in silence. After a half mile, the stream turned sharply to the right. Ahead lay a broad expanse of grass and trees, but the path soon curved to the left. Before long, the ground began to rise steeply. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the hill leveled off again, revealing the mouth of the tunnel.
Eira stopped and looked around, taking stock of all the buildings visible from the entrance. “You can continue on from here, Lady Vanador,” she said.
Kari nodded. “Thank you for showing me around.”
She walked along the tunnel for several hundred yards, but it eventually petered out. She tried to follow its twists and turns but found no other openings.
The End