The Legend of the Five and the Choosers of the Slain

Chapter 4 - Gondul and the Earth

            Kara had never dreamed since she joined the ranks of the Golden Host. She had not been a Valkyrie for long, so she had begun to wonder if her ability to dream was entirely gone or not. She had hoped not… until tonight. The dream was terrifying. She dreamt that she awoke in the night, and the world was lit by the pale face of the moon above. Before the mouth of the cave stood two silhouettes. One was Gondul, standing watch, but her back was turned, and she was staring out into the forest. And there, sneaking up behind her, was a massive man-wolf at least seven feet in height, with thick brown fur all over his body. His arms, despite their clawed fingers, were those of a man, as was his torso, but his hindquarters were those of a wolf, right down to the tail. And as she soon saw, so was his head. He turned directly toward her, his pallid eyes staring into hers, seeming to reflect the light of the moon even though it was behind him. Kara tried to cry out, but the sound stuck in her throat. Her vision clouded…

            And then she awoke. She was breathing hard. Looking quickly about, she confirmed that, though it was still night, the werewolf was not present. Gondul was keeping watch, and she stood peacefully under the moon, uninjured and undisturbed. The rest of the Valkyrie were sleeping… although Myst was fidgeting fretfully over her uncomfortable bed on the cold hard floor.

            Then Kara’s eyes caught the movement of what looked like a wolf’s ears, and she gasped. But it turned out to be an actual wolf, not a werewolf. In fact, there was an entire small pack of the animals present, all gathered around Gondul. She was caressing them, and they gathered around her though she had no food, as if all of them craved only her affection. Amazed, Kara slowly stood up. Trying not to make a sound, she softly walked up behind Gondul.

            “You don’t have to sneak,” said the smaller Valkyrie, without turning.

            Kara swallowed. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

            “They were passing by,” Gondul answered, “and some of them were injured, so I am helping them. You can touch them if you like.”

            Kara reached down and patted one of the rough-looking grey wolves on the head, and though he folded back her ears, he accepted her touch, closing his eyes peacefully.

            “How are you able to do this?” Kara asked.

            Gondul turned to her and frowned. “Do what?”

            “Keep them calm like this,” Kara replied, taking a seat on a large stone nearby. “Wild animals aren’t usually so docile. Wolves used to be quite a threat to my family at times, especially when out hunting…”

            “I would not know,” Gondul answered simply.

            Kara paused. “What do you mean?”

            “The past,” Gondul answered. “I have very little of it, and nothing worth speaking about.”

            Kara decided to drop the subject. “So can you… talk to them?”

            Gondul shook her head. “They do not speak.”

            Again there was silence. Then, suddenly, all of the wolves leapt to their feet, and in the blink of an eye they were all staring in the same direction, ears up and senses alert. Kara’s warrior instinct told her to draw her sword, which she did. Gondul stood calm, leaning on her spear, staring in the same direction as the wolves… into the fog and Myst beyond the cave. Where had it come from? There had been no fog there before. It seemed to have rolled out of the mouth of the valley beyond, like smoke from the mouth of a dragon.

            Kara could hear only her own breathing a she stood there, staring into that moonlit fog, clutching her sword in preparation for ambush at any moment. Unfortunately, most of the Valkyrie had removed the majority of their armor while they slept, out of habit as much as for comfort while resting here in the mortal world. Currently most of them were wearing the simple loose tunics they wore beneath their chainmail and armor plating.

            Finally Kara summoned the courage to speak. “Should we wake the…”

            Her words were cut off by the rustling of leaves in the forest not far ahead. The heads of all the wolves and the two Valkyrie snapped to face the same direction. Beyond the Myst, the leaves swayed where they had been disturbed, but there was no sign of what had caused the disturbance. At least… not until the fog cleared enough for them to see what lay behind it. On the lowest leaves of the branches could barely be discerned a thick black substance like tar. Kara was just wondering what it was when Gondul spoke the words for her.

            “Blood,” she said softly. “Old, dark blood.”

            Kara glanced at the wolves, wondering if the sight and smell of blood would send them into frenzy. But they stood stock still, watching the shadow of the forest, waiting.

            “It must be the hunters then,” Kara whispered, “dragging one of their kills.”

            “The blood looks too old,” Gondul said in low tones, “too black.”

            Kara remembered the map Roata had shown them, with the dark city of Dhuum marked not far from the valley. Dhuum, the city inhabited by monsters of all kinds… orcs, goblins, trolls, ogres, giants…

            “It could be orcs,” she suggested. “They have black blood.”

            Suddenly there was another voice beside Kara’s ear. It was Skogul, who was awake now and ready for battle, holding both her swords. She had apparently never removed her armor either.

“Don’t be foolish, girl,” she hissed. “Orcs don’t just leave blood wherever they go. They’re bloody stupid, but not literally.”

Kara turned to see that all of the Valkyrie were awake now, having either sensed the danger or been roused from sleep by Skogul. Thruda, like Skogul, had never taken off her armor, but all of the others had. Still, none of them were attempting to put it back on now. The danger was too close. They only had time to draw their weapons.

“They will come at us from all sides,” said Roata in a low, raspy voice that for some reason chilled Kara to the bone, “but they will be slow.”

Kara’s mind gave up trying to deny the truth, and it rushed in on her like a chill wind rushing down a mountain.

“The undead,” she said.

“Nooo kidding,” Skogul said, grinning and brandishing her swords. “Get ready for your first taste of dead flesh.”

Kara swallowed. “Are you talking to the wolves or something?”

In answer, Skogul lifted both her swords and kissed each of them once on the flat side of the blade. Then she winked.

Then, all at once, they came. As Roata had said, they moved slowly. The corpses were those of Northmen warriors, apparently some of the ones who had been slain on the field where the necromancers had harvested the souls. They were all grey and black and rotten, with their white eyes staring blankly from their unmoving faces. Their arms hung limply at their sides, but their hands gripped axes and swords with unflinching surety. There were at least twenty of them visible now, all shambling forward in the slow but determined march of the dead.

Then came the light. It gleamed off the armor and weapons of the Valkyrie as they charged, and it gleamed from their eyes and radiated from their skin. The dead stumbled back, blinded, as the weapons of the Golden Host twirled through the air, cutting them to pieces. Each wound they caused in the death flesh burned and sizzled, eating away at the undead’s skin until they fell apart, burning with golden, holy fire. The Myst that had come rushing in with them now rolled back, as if terrified of the light that now emanated from that cave.

The receding fog revealed more and more undead, at least four dozen in all, but this did not even cause a moment’s hesitation among the Valkyrie. Onward they charged, scattering in all directions, the weapons of their enemies breaking apart as if made of ash when they came into contact with those silver swords and shields. Gondul rammed her spear directly through two of the dead men, skewering them, but her spear came right back out, its ornate head glowing with a golden flame, and she continued the fight. Through the air whizzed Myst’s silvery arrows, like flashes of lightning, each blasting through rows of the corpses at once, leaving burning holes blasted clean through their chests and faces.

It ended even more quickly than it had begun. Skogul looked about and saw no more of the dead moving except in burning death throes. Many of the Valkyrie were quite bloody now, so it was hard to tell if they were wounded. The wolves had apparently run off once the way was clear and had not taken part in the battle.

“Report!” she shouted.

“Be thankful you wear black, Roata,” Kara said, looking down at her white tunic now stained with red-black blood.

“Yes, indeed,” Skogul commented. “The royal warriors of my tribe wore red for just such a reason, so that it would be nearly impossible for the enemy to tell if they were wounded.”

Roata said nothing. She merely held aloft her curved sword, which glowed brightly, the burned blood falling from it like dust until it was clean again.

“If only we could do that with our clothing,” Kara said.

Myst slung her bow over her back. “That is why I fight from a distance.”

“Well, that wasn’t such a hard battle,” observed Thruda as she patted her mace. “If all of our fights with the necromancers go like this, then I see nothing to worry over.”

Roata frowned. “No, I fear this was too easy. I wonder what their game is…”

Skogul laughed. “I don’t know, but they aren’t very good at it.”

“The remaining ones are retreating now,” Roata continued, pointing to shadowy, shuffling forms that could be seen far off in the fog now, “probably back into the valley. Undead are as fearless as they are mindless. If they are retreating, it is because someone commanded them to do so. That means the necromancers themselves cannot be far off.”

Skogul looked around excitedly. “Then let’s go find them!”

Thruda slammed her mace against her shield, resulting in a gong-like boom that echoed all around. “Yes! We shall strike the first blow! The rest of you put on your armor and catch up with us. We will follow the shambling dead.”

Myst notched another arrow. “Do you see any, Gondul? Can you track them?”

Gondul’s wide eyes searched the shadowy hilltops and the trees nearby. She shook her head. Skogul and Thruda were moving forward now, cautiously chasing the retreating zombies. Myst and Gondul, after donning their armor, began to follow them. It was a slow and ponderous pursuit.

“Are you sure we should just follow them like this?” Kara put in. “We ought to hold position and wait for Rynnhilda and Reginleif to return…”

“You are probably correct,” said Roata, who was still standing beside her, “but they will not listen. They are taken by the lust of battle, especially Thruda and Skogul. Even Myst feels it a little; I can see it in her eyes.”

Kara shot Roata a glance. The dark Valkyrie was fastening on her claw-like gloves, seemingly in no hurry to follow the others. After a few seconds, Kara grew impatient and ran off after Myst and Gondul. Gondul was walking slightly ahead now, scouting the terrain, looking for a target for Myst’s silver bow.

“She is surprisingly in tune with the mortal world, for a Valkyrie,” Kara said.

Kara did not meet her eyes. Her gaze seemed to be mirroring Gondul’s more than searching the hills on her own.

“Yes,” she said, “Gondul loves nature. She never got the chance to experience it much in life.”

Kara slowed her pace slightly. “What do you mean?”

Myst’s eyes darkened slightly with sadness. “Gondul died when she was very young, hardly ten years of age. Her home was under attack, and she was separated from her family during the fight. She saw her father, who had been injured during the defense, lying helpless as one of the enemy was about to kill him. So Gondul picked up a spear… and she slew the man. She continued to fend off several more attackers before they finally took her down. I heard that the sight of her being killed threw her dying father into such a rage that he killed half the army before finally giving into death. But these are probably fanciful tales. In fact, her father was probably already dead when she was trying to save him.”

“I thought Valkyrie were sort of… you know, preserved at the age they died in. Gondul does not look that young.”

They were interrupted by a shout from Skogul, and they saw her dash off into the trees, followed closely by Thruda. Gondul stood up and ran after them with the speed and grace of a doe. For a while Myst and Kara chased the other three through the dark trees, but they saw no sign of any enemy. The chase ended when they emerged into a clearing and saw four figures climbing up the mountainside far ahead. They were clad in brown and green earth tones, and they certainly did not look like necromancers.

“Those are the hunters who watched us last night,” said Gondul, pointing to their tracks in the dark earth of the clearing.

“Then they are not the ones we came for,” said Thruda dismissively.

“They must be working with them though,” shouted Skogul angrily. “They’re helping them escape! Serving as a distraction!”

Myst looked around. “Where is Roata?”

Kara looked over her shoulder. “I don’t think she came into the forest. She’s probably still following the undead.”

“Then let’s head back toward the valley,” Thruda said grimly, still watching the cloaked men toiling up the face of the cliff above. “We’ve wasted enough time here.”

After their silent trek back through the forest, a strange sight met their eyes on the other side. They were prepared for an ambush, either by necromancers, undead, monsters, or even those Imperial hunters… but nothing could have prepared them for this. Where the exit from the valley had once stood, there was now a wall of sheer stone. Roata was pacing back and forth in front of it, running her hands over its surface. She kept looking at the ground instead of the wall itself, while her claws traced strange symbols in the air.

As the other Valkyrie approached her, she said, “There is no exit from this place now. The shadow has trapped us.”

Thruda gave a low chuckle and slung the mace from her shoulder. She hefted it above her head with both hands and smashed it into the wall of stone. Though they had been expecting a great crash, the mace struck with hardly a sound, and Thruda was thrown backwards through the air, as if the wall reflected all the force of her blow back toward her. She quickly rose to her feet and brushed herself off, fuming.

Skogul winked at her. “Quick thinking, Thruda. Always using your head.”

Thruda pointed her heavy mace at the shorter, red-haired Valkyrie. “Quiet, you! I swear, my father Thor as my witness, that no stone can stand against my holy wrath! I will have this rock down before sunrise!”

Roata held up a hand, commanding silence. “This wall it not made of stone, Thruda! It is made of pure magic.”

Myst was leaning her face against it, her eyes closed. “I thought as much. If it were made of stone thrown here by giants or catapults, we would have heard it crashing down. It is also warm to the touch instead of cool, and it seems to be making a sound…”

Roata nodded. “While we were distracted, the necromancers summoned a wall of force disguised as part of the earth. They have successfully trapped us in the Valley of Death’s Shadow.”

Kara looked back toward the forest. “A distraction it was then! Those hunters truly are working for the enemy.”

Skogul bared her teeth. “I knew it! They will feel the holy wrath of Aesgard!”

Roata shook her head. “I think not, sister.”

They all looked at her now. “What do you mean?” Kara asked.

“When I said we were trapped, I meant those words in full. Even now, the air grows thicker for us. Soon we will all begin to feel it. The earth will feel harder, the darkness darker, our armor heavier. Look at your mace, Thruda.”

Thruda lifted the weapon before her eyes. One of the blades on the weapon’s ornate head was noticeably dented, its pointed tip bent in, its edge dull and curved. Thruda’s mouth fell open, and then her chest began to heave with rage.

“Stone could not do this! This must be mighty magic indeed to damage the weapons of the gods! When I find these necromancers, I will make them…”

“It is not just the power of this magic wall!” Roata interrupted, shaking her head. “Even ordinary stone could dent our weapons now; the necromancers have filled this entire valley with dark magic that cuts us off from the power of the heavens themselves!”

Myst was leaning heavily against the magic wall now, her eyes wide and frightened. Gondul was seated on the valley floor, looking down at the earth. The other Valkyrie stood before Roata as if they still had not grasped the situation, looking at her skeptically.

“What you speak of is impossible,” Skogul said, waving her sword dismissively. “No arcane magic wielded by mere mortals is enough to challenge the power of the heavens!”

Roata walked over to a nearby stone and seated herself upon it. She removed the strange rod she carried from her belt and began turning it over and over in her hands. The large indigo gem grasped in the claw-like hand on top began to glow softly, illuminating her face and black hair, though its light could not compete with her blue eyes. Myst, who was now seated on the ground as well, looked up at the other Valkyrie and smiled as if to reassure them, or reassure herself.

Myst sighed. “Roata knows of what she speaks, sisters, for she once studied the dark magics herself. Before she took up her sword and shield to fight for her people, Roata was a witch. That is why she knows more of this than anyone here, and that is why she is no doubt right about this wall as well. Have you tried taking to your wings?”

Kara looked startled. She immediately drew her cloak of swan’s feathers about her and did as she had been taught, but nothing happened. They could no longer fly. She suddenly felt like a stone, weighed down to the earth. As much as she had appreciated the ability to fly upon gaining it, she now appreciated it even more having lost it.

Thruda sighed resignedly. “Well, then we have no choice. We will have to use our feet. Come, sisters… let us move.”