The Valhalla Prophecy_A Novel

by Andy McDermott

  A pop-up tent was quickly unfolded, several men gingerly carrying their still-wailing fellow inside. The rest of the team looked on, more with curiosity than concern. Hoyt stormed over to Berkeley and began haranguing him. The archaeologist’s protest of ‘I told you not to do it!’ carried clearly across the hollow.

  Hoyt’s companion joined the argument, seeming to side with the former soldier. Berkeley held up the sun compasses. ‘I tried them, what more can I say?’ he said angrily. ‘The runestones clearly said they had to be put together to open the door. Well, I did, and they didn’t work. The site is over a thousand years old – maybe the lock’s broken, I don’t know!’ He listened with growing displeasure as the third man lectured him, jabbing with his forefinger. ‘Okay, okay, if that’s what you think is necessary! But I did everything I could.’ Cradling the compasses in one arm, he stalked off.

  ‘I do believe he’s going to sulk,’ said Nina, almost amused.

  Eddie watched Berkeley move away from the rest of the group. ‘You know . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Everyone else is watching the wounded guy – but look, some of them are just standing there having a smoke. If they were proper soldiers, they’d be worried about their mate, but it’s like this lot barely know each other.’

  ‘We did kill many of Hoyt’s men in Norway,’ Kagan pointed out. ‘He would have had to recruit more, fast.’

  Nina could tell her husband had something in mind – and also that it would involve a large degree of risk. ‘What are you thinking, Eddie?’

  ‘I’m thinking,’ he replied, his square face breaking into a crooked smile, ‘that most of these guys don’t know each other too well . . . and that they’re all dressed pretty similar, and most of ’em have got their hoods up.’ He tugged at the thick fleece surround of his own hood. ‘Like this.’

  She stared at him. ‘You’re not serious.’

  ‘Why not? I should be able to get down there without being seen so long as they’re all watching Harold Spearguts in the tent. My coat’s pretty much the same as anyone else’s, so if nobody gets a good look at my face I can walk right up to Berkeley and,’ he held up the hulking Wildey, ‘persuade him to give me the sun compasses.’

  Tova was horrified. ‘But if they realise you are not one of them, they will kill you!’

  ‘And if we don’t do something, they’ll just blow the bloody doors off and stroll in to take whatever’s inside.’

  ‘We cannot let them do that,’ said Kagan firmly. ‘It will lead them to the other source of eitr.’

  ‘It won’t help us get into Valhalla, though,’ Nina objected. ‘The compasses didn’t open the lock even when he put them together . . .’ She trailed off as a new possibility occurred to her. ‘He put them together wrong. That’s why they didn’t do anything. The lock isn’t broken – the key just didn’t touch it!’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Tova.

  ‘I mean, the compasses are magnetic – but there are two ways you can put magnets together. They can attract each other . . . or repel. Berkeley combined them so they’d attract each other, which is the obvious thing to do. But the mechanism inside the lock is on each side of the slot. The only way the two pieces of the key would touch both parts at the same time is if they’re repelling each other!’

  ‘Like poles attract, unlike poles repel,’ said Eddie, nodding. ‘Or is it the other way round? I can never bloody remember. But it doesn’t matter; all you need to know is which sides repel each other.’

  ‘It fits what the runestone said. It has to be how the lock works.’ Nina looked back at the mound. Berkeley was now standing on his own under a tree, stabbing at a tablet computer with one ungloved hand. Hoyt had gone to the tent, while the third man peered into the barrow’s entrance before turning away to join him. The rest of the mercenaries were holding station, either anxiously observing the progress of the injured man’s first aid, or hanging back, waiting to see what happened.

  She moved her gaze to the trench. Everyone was heeding Berkeley’s warning and keeping well clear. ‘If we took the key from Logan, we could get inside without anyone seeing us.’

  Tova was not keen on the idea. ‘But how will we get to the doors? Even if they do not realise Eddie is not one of them, they will spot an extra three people – especially as two of them are women!’

  ‘Through the trees,’ said Kagan. He indicated the ash grove on the barrow. ‘We go around the hill until we are out of sight, then cross over its top and drop down to the doors. If we are careful, they will not see us.’

  ‘Can we do it?’ Nina asked Eddie.

  He regarded the scene with a soldier’s trained eye. ‘Yeah. I think we can. There’s enough cover above to get to the entrance, so long as nobody attracts their attention.’

  ‘This is crazy,’ said Tova unhappily.

  ‘You don’t have to come with us,’ Nina assured her. ‘You can wait here if you want.’

  The prospect was just as unappealing. ‘On my own? But what if something happens to you?’

  ‘Then you run for the snowmobiles and burn it out of here as fast as you bloody can,’ said Eddie.

  ‘You should go now, if you are afraid,’ Kagan added. ‘It will be safer.’ There was a calculated air to his suggestion that caught Nina’s attention, but she couldn’t tell what lay behind it.

  ‘Tova, we need you,’ she countered. ‘This is Valhalla, it must be – it’s exactly where the runestones said it would be. Which means that inside, it tells us how to reach the second eitr pit, and we need you to translate the runes. And also,’ she went on, professional excitement rising, ‘it’s Valhalla! It would be the greatest Old Norse archaeological discovery ever – and it would be your find. The hall’s been sealed for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years. Don’t you want to know what’s inside?’

  The Swede held a brief internal battle between instinct and intellect. The latter won, though with considerable trepidation. ‘Yes, okay . . . but what if they see us before we get in?’

  Eddie held up the Wildey. ‘They’ll wish they hadn’t.’ She was not reassured.

  ‘You’ll come with us?’ Nina asked, getting a nod in reply. ‘Then let’s go.’

  Crouched low, they moved away from the rocks and circled around the top of the hollow. The mercenary group was soon lost to sight behind the conifers. ‘Okay,’ said Eddie, once he was sure they were concealed, ‘you all go up on to the hill and wait above the entrance. Don’t do anything until I’ve got the compass. If anything goes wrong, leg it.’

  ‘We’re not leaving you,’ insisted Nina.

  ‘I’ll either be right behind you, or dead.’

  ‘I’d really rather it wasn’t the second one.’

  ‘Yeah, me too!’ He grinned. ‘Okay, I’ll go and have words with Berkeley.’ He headed down into the hollow, angling around the foot of the barrow. Nina and the others climbed the mound to make their way through the stand of ash trees.

  Eddie slowed his advance as he drew closer to the entrance. The injured man’s screams had fallen to moans, but he was still conscious and in pain. That meant the men sent to collect the medical kit had not yet returned. When they did, all attention would be on them . . .

  He kept that thought in his mind as he moved through the evergreens surrounding the island of ashes. Movement ahead; he paused, sliding behind a tree trunk to observe. Vivid yellow stood out against the woodland colours. Berkeley.

  The archaeologist was still occupied with his tablet computer. Eddie leaned out a little further. A couple of the mercenaries were visible from his position, but they were looking towards the tent. Nothing about their stances suggested that they were on alert.

  He set off again, hood up, head low. Sidelong glances revealed more of Hoyt’s men as he rounded the barrow. Keeping the gun out of their sight, he closed on Berkeley. He was now only thirty feet away, near enough to hear the scientist muttering to himself as he stabbed at the screen. Another brief turn of the head to check
on the mercenaries—

  One of the men by the tent was looking right at him.

  Cold adrenalin surged through Eddie’s body, his hand tightening around the gun – but then the mercenary turned away. All he had seen was another anonymous figure in a thick coat. The Englishman felt a rush of relief, and hope. This might work . . .

  He reached Berkeley. The scientist was typing notes on the tablet, frustration clear as he tapped repeatedly at the screen like a woodpecker; the cold was affecting the device’s sensitivity. He let out a steaming huff of annoyance as he jabbed at one of the virtual keys to no effect, then turned as a reflection in the screen told him he was not alone. ‘Yes, what?’

  ‘Ay up, Logan,’ said Eddie, pushing the Wildey’s broad barrel against his chest. ‘How’s things?’

  Berkeley twitched in surprise and fear. ‘Chase!’ His eyes flicked towards Hoyt and his men.

  ‘Say a fucking word and I’ll shoot you,’ said the Englishman, his expression deadly. ‘And that’s not a bluff – I will put a bullet through your fucking heart if you try to warn them. Got that?’ Berkeley started to speak, then thought better of it and nodded instead. ‘Good. Where’s the compass?’ Berkeley tipped his head down. The dark discs of the conjoined compasses sat in the crook of his arm. ‘Okay, let’s walk to the entrance, nice and casual. You’re going to open the door for us.’

  ‘It – it doesn’t work!’ the archaeologist hissed. ‘The key, I mean. I put it in the lock, and nothing happened!’

  ‘Well, it’s a good job Nina’s smarter than you.’

  ‘She’s here?’ He looked around nervously, as if expecting her to materialise from behind a tree and punch him.

  ‘No, I came out here all on my own ’cause I like collecting pine cones. Of course she’s here, you fucking dipshit. Now move.’

  Keeping the gun shielded from sight, Eddie set off behind Berkeley. The mercenaries were still staying well clear of the entrance, but the pair would have to pass less than twenty feet from one of them to reach the trench. He tensed as they drew closer. The man looked round . . .

  And dismissed Berkeley with a glance, returning his attention to the tent. Eddie pushed the gun into the archaeologist’s side. ‘Keep going,’ he whispered.

  He raised his head to check the top of the mound. At first glance he saw nothing except ash trees, but then a more focused search revealed Kagan, barely visible as he peered around a small snow-covered bush. The Russian had been well trained to make the most of any available concealment.

  Eddie glanced back at the mercenaries. Nobody seemed interested in the two men. He guided Berkeley ahead of him as they reached the cutting. On the hillside above, Kagan started to emerge from his cover—

  ‘Berkeley!’

  The Russian froze – as did Berkeley at Hoyt’s shout. Eddie stopped right behind him. He turned his head just enough to see the tall American glaring at them from by the tent. ‘Answer him,’ he rumbled, keeping the gun pressed against the scientist’s body.

  Berkeley hesitantly looked back at the mercenary leader. ‘Wh-what? What is it?’

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’

  ‘Come up with something good or I’ll shoot you,’ Eddie growled, when his prisoner didn’t immediately respond.

  He swallowed, but managed to stammer out a reply to Hoyt. ‘I was – I was going to check the damage done by the chainsaw. If it’s broken the lock mechanism, we might be able to open the doors without triggering any more booby-traps.’

  ‘Why bother?’ Hoyt replied impatiently. ‘We’re just gonna blow ’em open anyway.’ Eddie tensed again, worried that the American was going to call them back, but then a shout from the woods drew everyone’s attention. The men who had been sent to collect the morphine had returned. ‘Just don’t get yourself shot,’ the mercenary leader said with a shrug before turning away.

  ‘That’s good advice,’ Eddie told Berkeley. ‘Do as you’re told, and you won’t. Okay, move.’ He shoved the other man forward again. Above, Kagan emerged from the trees and crept down the slope to drop into the entrance. Nina and Tova did the same, the latter with considerable fear. But nobody was watching the barrow, all eyes on the returning mercenaries.

  ‘Hello again, Logan,’ Nina said coldly as Eddie brought Berkeley into the shadows. ‘Give me those.’ She grabbed the sun compasses from him.

  ‘Nina!’ Berkeley exclaimed. ‘What is this, what’s going on? Why is your maniac of a husband pointing a gun at me?’

  ‘You’re lucky I’m not pointing a gun at you, you son of a bitch!’ She took off her gloves and, with some effort, prised the two magnetised discs apart. ‘Your buddies in Norway were going to kill us after you left.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, that’s absurd. Why would they do that?’

  Nina turned one of the compasses around and pressed it against its companion. As she had hoped, they repelled each other, almost squirming in her hands as she forced them together. ‘What, hasn’t the fact that they’re all carrying machine guns tipped you off that these are not nice people? You asshole.’ She gave him a disgusted look, then faced the doors. ‘Okay. Let’s hope this works . . .’

  Eddie regarded the lines of holes running across the barrier. ‘Yeah, let’s bloody hope! Tova, you stand behind me. And I’ll stand behind this berk.’

  Berkeley was clearly unaware that the truncation of his name was also a British insult. ‘What, you – you’re going to use me as a human shield?’ he protested.

  ‘We finally found something you’re good for,’ Eddie told him. ‘Stand there and shut up.’

  ‘But what if you set off another trap?’

  ‘Then we’re both going to be pincushions,’ said Nina. ‘And yes, shut up.’ Still holding the two compasses together, she raised them to the slot and carefully slid them inside. They scraped against the edges of the opening as the magnetic force tried to drive them apart. ‘Okay, nearly there . . .’

  Everyone held their breath, watching anxiously – Berkeley most of all – as she pushed the compasses fully into the hole—

  Clang!

  The dull ring of stone on metal echoed through the entrance as the discs finally had room to separate – and sprang apart, hitting the lead plates on each side of the slot. A muffled thumping came from inside the door, the mechanism being released . . .

  And with an ear-splitting shrill the doors began to open for the first time in over a millennium.

  ‘Jesus!’ Eddie said, wincing. ‘My ears might be bad, but I heard that!’

  ‘And so will Hoyt’s guys!’ Nina realised in alarm. ‘Get inside, quick!’ She moved to the gap between the two-foot-thick doors, but it was widening with agonising slowness.

  ‘But we do not know what is in there!’ said Tova.

  ‘We know what’s out here – blokes with guns!’ Eddie shot back. He shoved Berkeley forward, looking down the cutting. A man ran into view at its end, shouting in alarm when he saw the intruders.

  The doors finally parted enough for Nina to fit. She squeezed through, finding herself in darkness; the only thing revealed by the narrow line of daylight was a filthy stone floor. ‘Come on!’ she shouted, backing away to give the others room. Eddie held Berkeley back so Tova could enter, then pushed the American inside before following himself. Kagan brought up the rear, gun raised.

  The mechanism ground on, the doors opening wider. More mercenaries appeared and ran along the trench. ‘Shut the fucking things!’ Eddie yelled, throwing Berkeley to the ground and slamming his back against one of the barriers. The doors slowed, but didn’t stop. ‘Kagan, get the other one!’

  The Russian barged against the other door. The two men pushed, boots scrabbling for grip. With a deep and echoing creak, the barrier’s movement finally stopped – but even shoving with all their might, they couldn’t force it back. ‘Shit!’ Eddie yelled. ‘Nina, Tova, help us!’

  Tova ran to add as much weight as she could to Kagan’s side. It was enough to tip the balance – but only sli
ghtly, the doors inching shut. Too slowly. The men outside were closing fast, drawing their weapons.

  Nina went to help Eddie, but knew it would be futile—

  Her eyes had adjusted enough to make out more of the interior – and the mechanism opening the lead-covered doors. ‘Eddie!’ she cried. ‘Give me your gun!’

  ‘You can’t take ’em all on!’ he protested.

  ‘I’m not going to! Quick!’

  The conviction in his wife’s voice overcame his doubts. Still straining against the door, he passed her the Wildey. Nina whirled, falling a huge cylinder of roughly carved stone suspended by a thick skein of rope.

  She pressed the muzzle against the trembling line – and pulled the trigger.

  The deafening boom and pounding recoil made her stagger backwards. The .45-calibre round shredded the rope – and the great block slammed to the floor, shattering the flagstones and knocking her on to her back with the sheer force of the impact.

  But with the counterweight gone, the doors were now free to move. ‘Push, push!’ Eddie yelled, driving himself backwards. Kagan and Tova did the same. The gap closed . . .

  ‘Shoot ’em, shoot!’ Hoyt bellowed from outside. ‘Don’t let ’em shut it!’

  Guns cracked, bullets smacking through the lead sheeting and splintering the logs beneath. Eddie flinched as splinters caught the side of his face. He ignored the pain and kept pushing as more shots ripped into the doors.

  The two sides met with a deep thump – and the rattle of a mechanism resetting. Some of the mercenaries charged against the doors, trying to ram them back open. Eddie lurched at the impact—

  More jolts, these from within the barrier – and screams came from outside as the reactivated booby-traps fired a fusillade of bolts at point-blank range. Muffled sounds of panic reached him as the other mercenaries fled. ‘I think they got the point. Well, points.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ve used that one before,’ Nina said as she took out a flashlight and switched it on.