The casket containing the list had been packed into the bag which contained Sharp Axe’s belongings; whilst he was rummaging through it, someone approached him quietly from behind.
‘Looking for this, by any chance?’ enquired a cold, calculating and disappointingly-familiar voice from over Sharp Axe’s shoulder.
Sharp Axe’s heart missed a beat and he sighed resignedly: the voice had belonged to Fearless.
Sharp Axe turned to face his brother and saw that he had the casket in his hand.
‘Er... ’ replied Sharp Axe hesitantly, wondering whether he could offer some kind of explanation to Fearless which did not involve the truth. He could not think of one. ‘Yes,’ he said eventually, ‘I was.’
‘Good… ’ smiled Fearless sweetly, ‘… then we can all have a look together, can’t we?’
The men were called to gather around the fire. Then, rather nervously, Sharp Axe set the casket on the ground, gently raised the lid on its hinge, took out the list, slid off the polished-bone ring and unrolled the parchment.
‘Well?’ said most of the men eagerly.
‘Well... ’ said Sharp Axe, squinting at the parchment by the flickering campfire light, ‘... it is... a list.’
‘And... what... does... the list... say?’ spelled out Fearless, feigning patience very unconvincingly.
‘I... don’t... know,’ replied Sharp Axe, in a similar manner and with equal impatience. ‘I... don’t... under... stand... it.’
There was a mighty groan of disappointment from the rest of the men.
‘Wait a minute!’ said Fynn, snapping his fingers and pointing at the list in Sharp Axe’s hands. ‘That list was created by Freyr, centuries ago!’
‘Yes... so?’ shrugged Fearless.
‘So,’ replied Fynn, eye-balling Fearless, ‘it might be written in Ancient Norse.’
‘Brilliant, Fynn!’ cried Sharp Axe. ‘It could well be... ’
All eyes turned automatically to Jormunrek, exaggerator extraordinaire and Ancient Norse aficionado.
‘Erm... ’ gulped Jormunrek, looking less than enthusiastic about the opportunity he was about to be offered to assist with the investigation, but the list was shoved under his nose before he could say anything else.
‘Well?’ said everybody, anxiously.
‘Is it Ancient Norse?’ demanded Fearless.
Jormunrek took a cursory glance at the contents of the list. ‘It... might be,’ he replied, in an apologetic tone.
‘What do you mean, “it… might be”?’ scoffed Fearless. ‘Either it is... or it isn’t. What is so complicated about that?’
‘Erm... ’ gulped Jormunrek again, ‘... I... can’t read.’
‘Ah... ’ said almost all of the men in unison.
‘All right, all right,’ interjected Sharp Axe, having no desire to prolong Jormunrek’s clear and genuine discomfort, ‘let’s stay calm. We’ll have a closer look to see if we can spot any clues,’ he continued, then after unrolling the entire and considerable length of the scroll, he placed it carefully on the ground.’
The men got down onto their knees and those who could read scrutinised the writing.
‘It’s a list, all right,’ confirmed Randver, helpfully. ‘They must be all the names of the rightful Kings of Norway.’
‘Aha!’ cried Aldaron suddenly and emphatically, pointing to the bottom of the parchment. ‘There’s a signature!’
There was, indeed, a runic signature at the very bottom of the scroll.
‘Hmm... ’ replied Sharp Axe in agreement. ‘... it seems to start with Fehu... “fff”... and the next rune looks like Raido... “rrr”. So the first part of the name is “Fr...” but the rest of it is just a scrawl!’
‘Fffrrr... Fffrrr... Freyr!’ deduced several of the men rapidly.
‘Looks like it,’ conceded Aldaron, although he sounded somewhat disappointed and still a little sceptical.
‘Terrible writing, though,’ tutted Fearless. ‘You’d think they’d have taught them to write properly in... wherever it was that Freyr and the rest of them went to school!’
Sharp Axe looked at Aldaron. ‘Satisfied?’ he asked, though enquiringly, rather than triumphantly.
‘Well… ’ said Aldaron, reluctantly, ‘… I suppose so... although this list is so long, it would take us forever to try to decipher it, or even to find a name which looked something like Harald Fairhair’s... but unless we did that, we couldn’t be absolutely sure that he is a rightful King of Norway.’
‘Good point,’ concurred a nodding Fynn, who still seemed every bit as unconvinced about the list’s authenticity as Aldaron.
The general consensus, however, was that if any doubt still existed, King Harald should be given the benefit of it.
‘Well, that’s sorted that out,’ said Fearless, assuming the role of arbiter, which did not suit him at all well. ‘What’s this place called we’re going to?’
Sharp Axe waited for someone else to tell Fearless. When no-one did, he sighed disappointedly. Could he really have been the only one who had been listening to Harald Fairhair’s instructions?
‘It’s called Jarnvidr... ’ said Sharp Axe, eventually breaking the silence, ‘... The Iron Wood.’
To be continued in…
Book Two: Jarnvidr
Helheimr Page 12