“I lost a whole shipload of fighters to the undead!” one of the ship captains cried. “And now the undead coming this way, to Skala!”
“I need all of you to be calm,” Egill said.
“There is no being calm,” one of the dragonriders cried, smacking her fist into her hand. “That time is long over. We need to clear out the entire city immediately! The undead are leaving the battlefield! They’re moving overland toward us, and soon they are going to be here. They eat anything that’s alive.”
General panic among the Skalans.
“Where would all these people go?” somebody said. “What place is safe against the undead?”
“The deep ocean is safe. Send everybody out in ships if they can,” somebody else said.
“But how long will it take for all the ships to be outfitted for all their occupants? We can’t just send ships out on the ocean with no food, no water.”
“I’m doing it,” said one captain, and she walked toward the wharfs, hollering for her crew and their families to come with her and bring anything they could. People ran after her, offering jewelry and gold for passage.
“You can’t!” Egill said. “We need every able-bodied person here to defend the city!”
The captain kept walking.
Other people were peppering Egill with questions.
“Couldn’t fighters at the walls hold the undead at bay? Isn’t this what the walls were built for?”
“Couldn’t everybody just hide out in the queen’s keep until this is all over? The keep was built to keep us safe from invaders. It could do so again.”
“Stop!” Egill shouted, and his dragon took up the shout in a roar that shook everything.
Most all of the Skalans stopped talking, except for several little children, who were crying. “Stop, now,” Egill called. “Those of you who cannot fight, go into the queen’s keep. We will lock the gates and keep out the undead as best we can. Those of you who can fight will be posted near the gates to keep the undead back.”
“Oh, no. I’m not facing the undead again,” said one of the soldiers that had come back from battle. “I’m telling you, they’ll walk through everything you got. Fire, arrows, swords, lances, water, they don’t care. Nothing stops them. I’d rather fall on my sword just so I don’t have to face them again.”
“Residents of Skala! Get into the keep,” Egill called. “Get in there, quickly. Follow the standard invasion plan.”
One of the dragonriders had been looking to the west, her brow wrinkled in concern. “We need to move more quickly,” she said. “The wind is being wicked. It is blowing our scent out of the city toward them. I can see them coming this way.”
People began to surge toward the queen’s keep. Some ran home and put their cattle and sheep into halter to bring with them. Dogs and cats and chickens were gathered into young children’s arms to come to the keep with them.
“Yes, bring any livestock you can,” Egill called over the crowd. “We need to get all flesh and blood out of this town and into safety.”
A little boy was chasing a red hen, who kept running from him. “Come here, chicky,” he said, crying.
Skeggi took off his cloak and tossed it over the hen. She made a mad scuttle as the cloak came down, but it caught her underneath. He held the bundle still while the little boy reached under and caught the hen, clutching her to his chest. Now that the hen was in the little boy’s arms, she was just as quiet as could be. “Thank you,” he said, and ran to catch up with his family, who were heading for the queen’s keep.
Ulf pushed to the front of the crowd, his sharp face determined. Dyrfinna’s heart leapt to see it.
“Commander!” Ulf shouted to Egill. “I beg you, again, to be given leave to do the bidding of the goddess Skuld.”
Dyrfinna could have shouted for joy.
“The goddess Skuld directed us to travel to the burial ground of the dragons to stop Nauma and her sickening deeds. You saw fit to deny our request. I implore you to consider that this attack on our armies might have been, in part, because we did not follow her edict.”
Egill’s face flushed with anger. “I will not have you pin the blame for this invasion on me.”
Ulf remained impassive. “We have three shiploads of people who could be working to save our city. All our ships are ready to go. We are ready to strike at the very root of this trouble. Let us go and do this. Let us end this trouble as quickly as possible.”
Egill blew out his cheeks. “Go,” he sneered. “Go with the turncoat crew you brought. But consider how you are leaving us without enough workers to put things right in this town. And do not pin the blame on me if you fail and return, and find this city wiped off the map because you were not here to defend it.”
Ulf’s eyes flashed, but he bowed and turned away, calling to his crew to come to the ships.
Dyrfinna muttered, “Consider, Egill, how your stubbornness led to many more being lost in battle and helped to swell the undead army that you are now standing helplessly before.”
By now, refugees were arriving at the city gates, begging for help. “The undead are coming this way,” they cried. “We’ve had to flee for our lives. All we have on this earth now are the clothes on our backs. Please let us in so we don’t die!”
“Let them in!” called the director of the guards. “Let them in! Odin smiles on those who give refuge. To our house comes great honor for sharing our shelter with them. Let them in!”
Dyrfinna leaned over the side of the dragon, because she saw the faintest outline of her hand before her face. “Skeggi,” she said quietly to him. “I’m becoming visible.”
He pretended to ignore her. “Rjupa,” he said to his ladylove. “What do you say we hop on the dragon and skip across town to the ships? Maybe we can…” his voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe we can help Ulf a little bit.”
“I think that is a splendid idea,” she said. He helped boost her up, and he followed. Rjupa leaned over Dyrfinna, hiding her, as she said, “Dragon! Fly down to the docks. We’re going to give Ulf a hand.”
Oh yes! I believe we have something to drop off there, the dragon said. Or someone.
Dyrfinna grinned.
And the dragon spread her wings and sprang into the air high enough to glide over the town all the way downhill, just high enough over the houses to keep her long tail from shearing off any chimneys.
A moment later, they landed on the docks next to Ulf’s ships.
“Here you go,” Rjupa said, patting Dyrfinna on the back. “Get on your ship before anybody notices a funny shadow moving around. Then you can magically appear to your crew once you’re out to sea.”
They hugged. “I owe you both my life,” Dyrfinna said.
Rjupa waved off the praise, smiling. “You’ve saved us a couple of times. It’s all right.”
“But what are you going to do?” Dyrfinna asked.
“I’m afraid we are still under the queen’s command,” Skeggi said.
The dragons are going to have something to say about that very soon, warned the dragon. We will be meeting with other dragons, because this is our fight, too.
“So, what do you mean?” Skeggi asked. “That soon we won’t be under the queen’s command?”
I mean this battle is bigger than her battle, the dragon said, opening her wings. Soon we dragons will have to choose our alliances. Be ready for that day when it comes.
The first several crewmen came running down to the docks.
“Go, now,” Rjupa whispered.
In a twinkling Dyrfinna slid off the dragon and had jumped aboard the ship. She was pleased to see that most of the supplies that they’d brought were still on the ships. Apparently the queen hadn’t finished the job of making everybody take their personal belongings home from the ships. That was probably because I got into a huge fight with her lead commander, and then blew a wall out of the keep, and so they never finished the job, Dyrfinna thought.
As much as that small turn of events
pleased her, she didn’t have time to pat herself on the back. She stowed herself on the ship, crawling out of sight over the top of the stone ballast belowships. Lying in the darkness upon a lot of rocks was very uncomfortable, but she was almost certain that nobody would see her here. She listened to the sound of feet hurrying about overhead, the sound of barrels rolling, the commands given to a number of anxious warriors. She heard her name spoken in worried tones, but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.
A while later, once the crew was on board once again, Ulf gave the command to go out to sea. This time, no cheer followed his command.
Dyrfinna was visible by then – she only knew this because when she held up her hand, it blocked out the little light that came in through the gap far across the ship. All the same, she waited until they were well out to sea before she crawled, aching and dusty, out of hiding.
“Hello! I believe we have some work to do,” she said, standing up on the deck as her crew lost their collective minds. And now came the cheer that had been missing when they’d left the harbor.
“Thank Odin!” Ulf shouted, raising his hands to the high vault of heaven. “All-Father, you know well that I did not want to have to do this all on my own!”
11
Upon the Dragons’ Mountain
The next several days on the ships, as they raced through the waters, should have been an enjoyable time. The weather was beautiful, with just the right amount of wind and pleasant temperatures, and the stars at night were brilliant. But every Skalan on the ships was weighed down by all the deaths that had taken place. And none of them, not even Dyrfinna, knew what they were preparing to sail into. The three ships sailed close together through the day and night, as if huddling on the ocean. The adventurers, such as they were, still felt great trepidation.
Dyrfinna made sure to keep everybody busy so they couldn’t wear themselves down with evil thoughts. She had the crewmates drill in swordsmanship and fighting several times daily. She led classes in battle tactics. Those who knew song-magic also practiced their art, inviting others to learn small magics to defend themselves with, helping each other improve their pitch and their singing.
All of the Vikings had their many tasks on board to do to keep the vessels shipshape. But despite all the ways that Dyrfinna had her crew stay busy, she saw how the fighters scanned the skies for omens. She saw how they gathered at the sides of the ships at quiet times, watching the waters and talking about the old days and their loved ones as if they might never see them again.
“It was a short homecoming,” one of the soldiers grumbled.
“At least we got to have a homecoming,” somebody else said. “A lot of our friends didn’t even get that much.”
“Their bodies won’t even get a proper burial.”
“Nor do their souls go up to Valhalla,” somebody said. “Even if they died with their sword in their hand, but then they came back as the undead, they wouldn’t go to Valhalla, would they?”
And then they would break into arguing. Where did the souls of the undead go?
Nobody knew. This was something new and awful in their world, a terrible magic. There were no answers to these new questions they were asking.
So they passed the time. Dyrfinna made herself stay busy. She didn’t want to fall into melancholy. Because it was in the quiet times that her failures kept coming back to her, the times she’d frozen up when faced with the undead soldiers. The memory of each failure … she couldn’t shake the fear that kept bubbling up inside her.
And she thought of the promise she’d made to the gods. “To kill Nauma, whatever it takes.” And then Thor sent a rumble of thunder to show that the gods had accepted her challenge. What would come of that? What was it going to take, to kill Nauma? She didn’t mind sacrificing her life. That was easy. But the gods could be devious. Sacrifice could take many forms. What if she was supposed to sacrifice her little sister, for instance? Then what?
After the fourth day, the night watch woke Dyrfinna in the early hours of the morning. “We’ve sighted land,” she said.
Dyrfinna got up and joined her watch at the side of the ship, seeing the line of black upon the horizon. She stretched, gazing upon the sea birds that were now flying around her ship. Another good omen, for this meant the land was close. “At last,” she said, relieved. “The time for waiting is over. Now we can prepare to take action.” This was a much better place for her to be. Dyrfinna took a deep breath and went to wake the rest of the crew.
The ships made ready to land. The sails were brought down, the rowers took to their benches, and they heaved on the oars until the three great ships beached themselves high on the sand.
“Do you think this is the right place?” Ulf said.
Dyrfinna nodded. “This is what the dragons told me,” she said.
One by one the warriors hopped out.
“Look over here!” somebody called.
Dyrfinna joined them. Here were the distinctive marks that showed where other ships had been beached recently. Many tracks surrounded them, where many soldiers had jumped out and had gone up the mountain.
But many other tracks surrounded them, returning tracks. They were human footprints, except these tracks dragged and limped. And fewer had returned than had gone up.
“It’s almost as if those who came back down the mountain had mostly forgotten how to walk,” one of the young soldiers said, studying the footprints.
“Almost as if … they shambled,” somebody else said.
Everybody looked at each other then, not daring to speak what was very much on their minds.
“Well, whoever they were, they clearly left on that ship,” Dyrfinna said briskly. “I see no other shambling tracks on the shore. Let’s go up a little ways, where we can have a clear view of the ocean and the land around us, and we’ll break our fast before we continue up.”
Cook fires were coaxed into life on the rocky shore, and the fighters quietly started preparing some hot food.
While everybody did this, Dyrfinna stepped away.
She called the emberdragon, whispering her name upon the wind. “We are here at the mountain that is your burial ground,” she said. “We are here to stop Nauma from raising the dead. I pray that your babies are hatched and able to care for themselves,” she said. “I waited as long as I could to call you.”
A long moment passed.
Then came a whisper on the wind. They are hatched and all are well. I will come.
Dyrfinna went to the cook fires to get something to eat while she waited. Her warriors gathered around the fires, looking up the long slope of the mountain and the heights beyond. Dawn was rising, but even despite the light of the morning, they noted a soft light glowing from an unknown source high up on the mountain’s height.
“What do we need to do?” Dyrfinna asked herself as she ate, running through different scenarios in her mind, taking stock of her surroundings. She thought of where Nauma could be, wondering how quickly she could return. What if Nauma had set a trap at the top of the mountain? How would Dyrfinna’s army defend themselves if they were attacked? How quickly she could get a full three shiploads of people down the mountainside if they were?
They finished their meal, extinguished their fires, and began packing to start their march.
Just then, several people began exclaiming and pointing at the sky.
An orange sunseed came drifting, very high up, toward them, scudding through the low clouds.
Dyrfinna took a deep breath. This time, at least, it was excitement that filled her, not fear.
A much-needed change, she thought.
Of course, she could check for incoming attackers on her emberdragon. And to be honest, Dyrfinna couldn’t wait.
She had warned her crew that a wild dragon might be showing up soon, but the emberdragon came on so fast that a number of Vikings had drawn their swords, just in case.
“Hello!” Dyrfinna said to the emberdragon as she came down in a shower of sparks
.
The emberdragon, however, had no time for pleasantries. All of you are walking upon a holy mountain, the emberdragon cried as she landed. None of us should be on this mountain, none of us.
“I’m sorry about that,” Dyrfinna said.
And there’s something at the top that was not there before. The emberdragon came forward, tail lashing, sniffing the air. It hesitated, sniffed again. I cannot place that scent, she added.
Dyrfinna looked toward the top, but the mountain blocked her view of whatever was up there. “Is there anything we can do to appease the gods, to beg their forgiveness for being here?” Dyrfinna asked. “We are here because the goddess Skuld bid us put a stop to Nauma and her undead army. I suppose Nauma created some of her undead army here, to judge by those tracks by the ships.”
The dragon’s scales were glowing as if a strong wind were blowing on her, firing her up to a brilliant orange. But there was no wind. She was simply very angry. She desecrates our dead. This isn’t right. None of this is right.
“I know. That’s why I called you, because we need help, and there’s a lot that I don’t know. Can you help? I’ll give you the choice of cattle from what’s left of my herd.” With a sudden shock, Dyrfinna remembered that the undead army was on its way to Skala. “Provided, of course, that my herd of cattle even survives the attack of undead on my city.”
I’m not here for payment, the dragon said. That’s the last thing on my mind right now. I’m here because I am horrified and sickened to my soul by what has happened.
“As we are,” Dyrfinna said. “Our families and loved ones are among those Nauma has turned into the ravenous undead. The sooner we can stop her, the better.”
Mount up, the orange emberdragon said with a toss of her head.
“I don’t have any straps to hold myself on,” Dyrfinna said.
Now the dragon’s blazing orange color died down. My heart breaks, said the emberdragon wryly. She never liked wearing the straps.
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