Eric Olafson Series Boxed Set: Books 1 - 6 (The Galactic Chronicles Series)

by Vanessa Ravencroft

  "I will not fail you Grandfather. I will do my best."

  Grandfather stepped back and slammed his fist against his chest before extending his arm over me. "Let Thor's strength be in your arm and Odin's wisdom be your guide."

  I turned and started to climb the narrow steep and ice covered stairs.

  I turned after a few and he was still standing there, surrounded by whirling snow. The stairs were slippery and I had to watch what I was doing. One could easily fall and probably break every bone in the body. Again I turned and he was still there much further away next to the now snow covered Volvo.

  I must have climbed at least half an hour and reached a little platform hewn into the rock. As I locked back down Grandfather had not moved and I thought I saw him waving. I didn't feel the cold much except to nose and cheeks as I tackled the second flight.

  I wondered, while I climbed why they didn't put more care in the building of these stairs. They easily could have been made wider and deeper as well, but then it did not seem there was all that much traffic coming up or going down.

  Of course this had to be the hard way all newcomers had to take. The rest would fly in along with the food and whatever else they needed to survive out here.

  I soon lost sight of grandfather and could not tell if he was still there or not and I estimated to have spent at least two hours and yet the burg seemed elusively far. I was no longer cold at all but started sweating and during Short Summer the sun never really left the sky and it did not get really dark, but due to the leaden sky and the eerie gray twilight it could have been any time during the day. Everyone on a cold world like ours knew that sweating was a certain way to die if you stopped and let the cold seep in. I had to find shelter before I could take a real break. The only such place however appeared to be the Burg that was much larger than I thought, still far away. I kept climbing, thinking Grandfather could still be there and use Tele Optics to watch my progress and I did want to make him proud. These were just stairs nothing real dangerous and I was in good condition and a good swimmer. This should be no problem! Yet my breath was going heavy and I wanted to sit down just for a few moments. So I put my head down bit my teeth and increased my pace. Just don't look up. Don't think how far it still is, I said to myself and kept on. I was sure I had climbed now for the better part of 5 hours up the serpentine stairs meandering up between steep rock walls when I reached a landing, the burg seemed only slightly closer I met another person! An old man dressed like a Low man only in linen and no leather or fur. He was meager looking and struggled with a load of soak stones on his back. I was more than shocked to see him bare feet. Whatever Clan he belonged it must have been either a very poor or a very cruel clan to treat their Low man like that." Hail Old man! You came a long way with all that Soak stone! Do you know how much further it is to those Halls?"

  He turned." I am afraid this is as far as Odin lets me go, young man. I must deliver these soak stones as my lord decreed he would donate to the Faceless Seven and the Temple of Odin, but I am at the end of my strength."

  "Judging how far you came, I say Odin blessed you with great endurance even in your advanced age. Your Clan chief should have flown it up there instead of sending you! Let me help you with it. I think I still got some left in me it can't be that much further."

  "No one is allowed to fly up there, at least not by means of the Off Worlders. Everything they need has to be carried and carried it is by those who wish the blessing of the Gods but some think it can be delegated and still receive the blessing if the gift is large enough."

  "I wish I had Freya's Cloak as well Old Man!" I grabbed his sack and it was indeed heavy and it deepened my respect for the Old man to have even made it that far.

  He said." Thank you young lord. I will wait here."

  "No you can't wait here. If you stay to long you will freeze to death. Your Clan chief failed to equip you as well."

  "I can't go another step!"

  He collapsed to the stairs. He had his eyes closed and was breathing very shallow. He looked frailer than I realized. "Well I guess they can live without the Soak stones for a while. We need to get you up there, fast!"

  As frail as he was he was a grown man and I was turning fourteen in three months, but he got up leaned heavily on me and we went on. He grew heavier it seemed and he lamented about the soak stones and the punishment he would receive for not delivering them.

  I did not have much breath left to answer but I said." Don't worry I go and get them, but you need to get inside, or all the punishment of your Clan Chief is going be dished out to a corpse."

  While I was praying to Thor for more strength or maybe that he used his hammer to smash those cursed stairs I dragged him on. He felt cold and I wondered what kind of Clan chief would send an old man like that on an errand like this. Certainly my father would be delighted to send me up and down these stairs if he knew about them. Whenever I was thinking of my father fear anger and a cauldron brew of emotions gave me some extra push. I could not tell how long we had walked, but I hoped the Faceless Seven had some hot water in their kitchen and a bed somewhere as we finally reached a metal door set into a wall partially hewn out of the rock of the mountain and partially build with large square hewn boulders. Real old burgs had sometimes parts that were made like this and not out of Duro Crete, much of our basements, dungeons and under crofts were built that way.

  The door looked massive and there was no view port or window anywhere. The stairs had ended in a short narrow path leading to that two man high door. To the left the sheer wall of the mountain and to the right the chasm downs the mountain. I could see much the winding stairs from here.

  "Have you been up here before? Is there a special ritual or way to gain entrance?"

  The old man blinked." We made it, but I am still doomed. I am here without the soak-stones! I most certainly will be flailed! Our Clan Chief is easy to anger and quick with his war bludgeon!"

  "I gave you my word! I go and get it, but you need to get inside and that is what I try do to."

  I eased him to the ground and gave him my fur vest. The wind felt even colder but he was all skin and bones and had even less defenses.

  I banged with my hand against the door but doing it I felt how thick the metal must have been it did not vibrate or make much of a sound at all. "No one is going to hear that!"

  I yelled as loud as I could but even after seven or eight tries there was no response.

  The old man huddled into my vest and said. "The Soak stones are trenched that is why the sack is so heavy. We could borrow one or two and light a fire. They might see that."

  "Alright I try to be quick but it will be several hours. Don't die on me and try to move around. Don't stay to long on the ground!"

  "Yes young Master. He held me by the hand." What is your name and of what Clan are you?"

  "I am Eric and I am of the Olafson clan."

  I then left and went back down and wondered what a fool's errand the whole thing was and why there was a door and no one to open it. While I was sure Grandfather meant well sending me here and it still beat the prospect of staying at home especially after he was set into rage by Grandfather, but maybe those Seven Guys were dead and gone. Since they had been there when Grandfather came up here, they must have been either real old or it was some sort of office that was passed on and they didn't find anyone to pass it on too. Maybe the burg was abandoned.

  At first I thought going down the stair would be easier, but going down the icy narrow steps turned out to be far more dangerous and I had to go slow and careful. When I finally reached the landing where we had left the sack, my legs trembled uncontrollably and it took me long moments to get myself under control. Going up seemed almost like a blessing despite the heavy sack, but then it contained life saving warmth for me and the old man. If I remembered my local geography lesson correctly, which I was regretting now did not get via Cerebral Upload; there was a small town to the east on the Ice. How far to the east I could not even gu
ess; if the Burg here turned out to be abandoned. I had to take the old man there somehow. There was no other settlement I knew of up here on the ice of the northern pole of our planet.

  The prospect to trek across the ice with nothing but a sack of soak stones that would not last very long and no weapon to forage for food or defend against Fangsnappers was another way of suicide.

  I truly could not feel my legs and had no idea how I actually managed it but I reached the top and the Old man was gone! I dropped the sack. The only place he could have gone was down! I glared over the ledge but as far as I could see there was o shattered body.

  "Young Lord may I ask what you are doing there, leaning so close to the dangerous ledge?" A Voice asked.

  I turned and the old man stood next to me. "I thought you fell, Old man! I brought your soak stones! Where have you been? There is no place to hide here."

  "Silly boy, There are the Halls of course. How can you overlook a Burg so big and yes the door is open!"

  I was exhausted and just waved at the bag." There are you soak-stones and now we better get you in. Maybe there is someone inside able to provide you with shoes and a bed till you have to climb down again to meet that cursed Clan Chief of yours."

  "Yes let us go inside so you can find your bed. It is not much compared to the luxuries a Clan chiefs first born is accustomed too, but after climbing these steps up and down I am sure you will find it adequate at least tonight."

  He did wear boots now as I suddenly noticed and he no longer limped or walked bend. He still looked old but neither sick nor exhausted." You aren't a Low man am I right?"

  "Did not Odin often use disguises to test other Aseir?"

  "The last time I heard a story of the Gods was when I was five and my father killed my mother!" I glared at him and said." You are one of the Faceless I assume."

  He did not answer but walked to the open steel door and I followed. Just before I was about to walk through he said." Don't you want to bring the soak stones in?"

  I turned back to get the sack and the door closed right behind me, but I heard his voice." Try to stay alive tonight. This door only opens for four hours every day to visitors. If you are alive tomorrow you are allowed inside."

  He was lucky he was behind that steel door of his; I would otherwise have tried to twist his head of his thin neck. I was angry and felt like a pawn in a game I had no control. Grandfather wanted me here; whoever was inside that old place did not. Playing tricks and games with me. There was no way I would survive a night up here. Not that there was an actual night, the light would stay pretty much the same, but the temperatures were below freezing. Not as cold as during Long night but cold enough to kill an unprotected human after extended exposure. The fool I was giving that old man my jacket. Helping him with his cursed sack!

  I opened it. Indeed there were six oil soaked stones; actually some sort of fossilized plant or animal of Nilfeheim's prehistoric past. I had no tools with me! I arrived here in the same clothing I had left school. No knife, no tools and now even without my Fanger fur vest; there was no way for me to make fire, to light the Stones and release their warmth. I took them out anyway. The sack was tightly woven and from the looks of it made from the old fabric the women on Nilfeheim used to make from the fibers of a sea weed leaf. No one I knew not even on our burg still made fabrics that way and instead used imported fabrics and in town folks like Ygral would even buy their clothing ready made at stores. To my surprise the sack did contain a heavy bladed hunter's knife in a sheath

  Probably to knife myself. I knew how to strike a spark and make fire. This was a skill everyone on Nilfeheim was taught from early on, but there was no way I could get Tyranno oil at these temperatures started with a spark! But I used the knife to cut a hole in the sack and use it as a simple coat my fingers started to get real cold, but the knife was truly razor sharp and I used it to make shave fibers from the sack into fine fluff. It along with a few wrappers of sparkle bright gum I found in my pocket, shredded to fine bits I had enough tinder. Finding a loose suite able rock was more a challenge then I thought but I finally found one not too far from that cursed door and pried it loose from the frozen ground. I almost gave up. I struck the rock with the knife to create sparks. I had seen Greifen do it before and the rock he used looked very much like this rock. I wanted to cry and realized the even colder sensation in my face was from tears, but then a spark lit and it lasted only for an eye blink, I tried again and again one spark fell into the bed of fine shaved dry fibers and bits of wrapper paper, it lingered perhaps a heartbeat longer and one of the fibers turned black, there was a tiny whiff and I smelled it! It was smoke. The sweetest most delicious scent I had ever smelt barely registered in my running nose: Smoke! More carefully than a mother would kiss her new born did I breathe onto the glimmer. It became stronger, my heart jumped. A drop from my nose almost killed my efforts but due to sheer luck it fell next to it, and there it was, a flame. It now spread across the kindling fast and I frantically searched my pockets for anything flammable and I cursed myself not to have done that before. I cut a strip off the sack, it took to the almost dying flame now and now I was able to set it to a soak stone. Hoping it would warm the oil, last long enough to catch and it did!

  Hastily I set up two more soak stones huddled as close as I could to them and the mere sight of the orange flames now taking into the soak stones seemed to warm me a little already. In all this I wondered how many boys of my age in the entire galactic Union had to make fire like this to stay warm. I was sure I was the only one and I cursed every bad foul mouth curse I heard from Greifen, but it made me feel better.

  "I see the Olafson clan takes great care even their young now how pretty much every bad word we have in our language!" The Old man said suddenly standing behind me.

  I was so startled by his sudden appearance that I drew the knife, more out of reflex than anything else." I would have a few choice words for you as well, Old Man. But I promised my Grandfather not to fail him, and I shall not! You play your games then, Old Man, and I will do my best."

  "You speak strange for a boy of your age I must say. You kindled my interest. So I say you can come in and I let the other boys clean up out here. You did ruin a perfectly good fiber sack, but then I got your nice Snapper fur vest."

  He turned and walked to the now open door again. Then he turned and waved."I said you can come in. Young Olafson."

  Chapter 19: Tyranno Fin Stew

  I tried to get up and managed but I was stiff as a frozen snapper fur in Longnight, I was more sore than I realized and colder than I ever was. This time had let me get in. The door led into a short tunnel shaped corridor passing through the tall massive rock wall. Judging by the length of the tunnel, the walls must have been at least 10 meters thick. The steel door swung close behind us, making absolutely no sound as it did. Two boys perhaps my age, wearing dark long fur coats were behind the door pushing it into the frame. The Old man walked on and I followed onto a huge court yard, the wind was as cold here as outside, but there was no snow. A group of different aged boys pushed brooms at one end of it, revealing the reason why there was no snow.

  The old man kept a brisk pace and approached a smaller stone house leaning against the mountain side wall of the burg. Across the yard a tall building with arched windows and what appeared to be at least twenty meter tall double doors. He pointed at it with his flat hand.

  "The Halls of Hasvik! Sacred, huge and as cold as this world, very impressive and that hall has lots of polished stone floors that must be cleaned and polished every day. Would you like to polish those floors?"

  "Old Man I will do what you ask me to do, as long as I can raise a hand or lift a finger I will try, I gave my word. It matters not what I want or like, it never has in all my life why should this place be any different."

  "You do sound very bitter for a boy going on to be fourteen."

  "Well you sure are good at guessing my age, Old Man. So show me where the mop is or the broom or whateve
r is used to clean that stone floor and I will start."

  "You would start in your condition right now? You didn't ask me for food or a bed or anything."

  "I never ask for anything anymore. I would not get it anyway. So why be disappointed. I simply accept whatever you deem to be my labor or punishment or whatever you call it and abide my time. "

  "You are actually surprisingly wise for a young whelp, in a fatalistic sort of way of course."

  "I think I will accept you. Let us go inside."

  He added. "Things you want do matter. It is one of lives greatest challenges to find out what one really wants."

  I followed him. "This is no mystery to me, Old Man. I want only one thing and that is to grow old enough and strong enough to challenge my father and then kill him."

  We reached another, but smaller metal door set into the front side of a small building and the door again opened without him touching it and without a sound. From inside the warm orange glow of fire greeted us.

  "Don't linger young Olafson. It takes a long time to get these stone buildings decently warm, so I like to keep the doors closed."

  I went inside following him, expecting again someone pushing the door, but the door closed without anyone behind it. So they weren't completely rejecting technology after all, I thought to myself.

  The room was archaic there was no other way to describe it, the walls were rough hewn big boulders supporting a vaulted ceiling. Furs were used both for wall hangings as well as floor covering. The few furniture pieces; shelves, chairs and a big table were made of carved stone.

  Carved stone furniture was incredibly expensive and usually find one or two show piece in a rich patriarch's home. The Ragnarsson Clan had lots of it in the burg, and it was the real old kind from the early days of settlement, before they used Duro-Crete, Mix-a-Wood and metals. Back then they actually cut and chiseled these things out of solid rock.