Chapter III
Olaf the Viking
Gabriel crouched down and laid his hand on a hoof print, he then picked up a small twig; he could tell that it had only recently snapped; the damp sinewy thread held it together at its centre refusing to break. As he rolled it around between his fingers he mulled over what to do next. Tossing it to Michael, he stiffly rose, gesturing toward the direction he believed they should follow. Even though it was autumn with a cold chill in the air the trek had kept them warm. They had run two days without rest, only eating and drinking while they were on the move, were they but normal men they would have felt the strain of it, but they were Sky People and they had spent enough time in their mortal forms to have adapted to their environment; and their strength of spirit was such that they controlled their bodies; their bodies did not control them.
“I would say they passed by here recently, within the last hour I think - maybe two -” said Gabriel, examining the tracks.
“Good,” said Michael, “then it’s time to rest.”
“Rest?” queried Gabriel, “why do we want to rest, when we’re so close to them?”
“And, if we caught up with them, what then?” Michael asked. “There’s more to be discovered here and we won’t do that by freeing Grey Wolf before he reaches the settlement, so we’ll do it afterwards - which means we rest now, so we’ll camp here the night; there’s enough cover to make a small fire, and then we’ll continue on in the morning. I sense something, something I felt first just before Grey Wolf was taken; an ancient malice.” Michael paused a moment, any hidden threat was as real as if it were there in front of him, “perhaps it’s nothing. I can’t be sure; it’s far off, anyway we’ll stop here for the moment.”
“Very well, rest it is then.” replied Gabriel, “But if that feeling of yours grows then perhaps we need to consider certain precautions. Things haven’t been quite right since we first arrived here, and who knows what type of insidious vassal the Dragons called upon to assist him in this venture of his? In the meantime if we’re going to have a fire I’d better do a little foraging because we can’t exactly build one out of thin air. Well, perhaps we could, but maybe not in these restricting forms.”
The sun was beginning to set, and had turned the sky a daunting colour. The small narrow valley they had found themselves in was crowned by trees that in the gloom were impenetrable. Michael’s eyes stared into some unknown distance. He cocked his head to one side as if listening to something. Some leagues away, echoing across the valley, could be heard the howl of a wolf. Gabriel, seeing him, smiled and disappeared off into the surrounding trees to gather up some dead wood. Michael’s gaze followed his passage and drifted toward the trees: the reddish autumn leaves appeared as if they were on fire and matched the evening sky.
Gabriel had not gone far before he stooped to pick up brush and twig; squirrels scuttled and chirped above his head as if giving warning of his presence when he heard a sudden far off sharp screeching cry. Stopping a moment he shot up, alerted by such an unusual, unearthly sound - perhaps it was the malice that Michael had spoken of earlier. He wondered for a moment whether he should investigate, but quickly decided that such a move could prove reckless, after all only fools rushed in; though the act would be fitting in a world where people behaved as impetuously as humanity did. He smiled grimly to himself, but that was not the way of the Angelos, so he gathered together enough wood and without looking back he returned to camp with his collection of brushwood and twig.
Michael was seated just beyond the tree line when Gabriel returned; the hollow hoot of an owl called out overhead and then there was the fluttering sound of bats close by, as they chased after the many insects that straddled the air. Gabriel soon began making a small fire. It was not long before the smouldering embers sprang to life. Red sparks flew out, followed by fingers of warming flames that licked the night. They ate some buries and dried meat in silence, both stared into the fire and contemplated their journey so far.
“I heard something,” said Gabriel quietly turning to Michael. “It didn’t sound natural. In fact it sounded very unnatural.”
“Yes I heard the same,” replied Michael.
“What do you think - maybe gaining access to that Viking settlement may not be such a good idea, as escaping from those that are in league with the Dragon might prove problematic,” continued Gabriel.
“Gabriel, our task is more difficult than just making an escape,” said Michael. “As you say they will have the Dragon’s acolytes with them, and it is likely that they will recognise us even in mortal form; and that Oracle of theirs, if that’s what the person is, might also see us coming. We will need to neutralise these threats.”
“I don’t wish to state too much of the obvious, but these human forms are not the strongest to counter such things, so how do you suppose we do it?” responded Gabriel.
Michael drew some of the meteorite material from his pouch.
“You’re forgetting these stones,” said Michael. “They have elements in them that should mask us for a brief period at least against our being discovered.”
“So much,” said Gabriel, “for warning the Dakota and the Hopi.”
“There should still be time enough for that,” replied Michael, lying back and gazing up at the stars, “remember this war has always turned up the unexpected and that’s why we need to find the truth as to why they are here now; and the only way to do that is to access the enemy camp so that we can observe what exactly is going on.”
“If you mean by the unexpected,” said Gabriel turning on his side a moment. “That the Dragon has proven to be a most devious and unscrupulous adversary and frankly has managed to outmanoeuvre us on several occasions, without even mentioning the last time on Helleos Prime, then this war has been not just about the unexpected, but about the atypical, the unnatural, not to mention the unimaginable.” Gabriel let out a huff, turned on his back and placed his hands firmly beneath his head before allowing his body to relax.
The moon gradually climbed above them; its crescent shape slowly passing across the sky. Wisps of cloud would cover it, deepening the dark, while stars shone out like cold crystals in a dark pool. The two figures lying there had gone quiet, and did not appear to notice the large brown bear peering at them from behind the tree line, the darkness was no obstacle to its unerring sight; it had smelt the fire and gone to see what beast it was that had stifled the air so. Shuffling back and forth it could not fully make out the intruders to its domain. The bear took a step forward then another. Still there was no movement from the two silhouetted figures, which lay so vulnerable and unmoving. The bear suddenly raced across, quickly covering the ground, its great frame belying its speed and with a swipe of a giant paw struck one of the figures. Brush and twigs went flying everywhere. Suddenly the quiet embers of the fire came to life. Gabriel and Michael were standing behind feral flames, bows taught ready to fire.
“See us, know us,” cried Michael sternly.
All at once the bear’s eyes widened, he fell to the floor, giant claws covering his head.
“I am sorry High Spirit and Ancient Spirit,” said the bear gruffly, “I had not known it was you.”
“Why did you attack our camp?” asked Gabriel, lowering his bow.
“I thought you our new enemy that lives close by in that large gathering of men and that you had strayed from your wooden caves,” replied the bear. “My kin have been hunted and killed by them. When I saw your fire I thought to revenge my clan; I am a Cave Bear from the step of the White Mountain.”
“We are not your enemy,” said Michael also relaxing his grip on his bow, “but now you’re here I wish for you to take us to the borders of where you saw those wooden caves.”
The Cave Bear moved forward slowly its great head swaying back and forth as if unsure.
“Do not fear, we will protect you,” said Michael.
The Bear calmed. The three set off; but before leaving Michael stamped out the small fire. A soft
plume of ash puffed up then fell to earth. The air was fresh, cool and damp as the sky began to soften and the night was framed by a sallow glow. The Bear carried Michael and Gabriel easily on its back as they disappeared into the woods. The further they went the closer the air became, swiftly they moved among the tight knit, misshapen trees - some even appeared twisted and burned, taking on a more withered and writhing form than you would think possible, others had been felled and left to rot. Each stride taken was a step closer to danger. Michael could sense the Bear becoming tense as they went. From the general destruction something with dark intent had passed that way. The Bear stopped suddenly smelling the air; they could all smell an unnatural rancid stench.
Gabriel and Michael dismounted, bracing themselves, the taste in the air was choking. The Bear growled nervously, scratching at the floor, its head once more bobbing up and down and swaying from side to side.
Some dark force was heading in their direction. Quickly Gabriel took his bow and drew a circle on the ground. Michael then etched some Angelos script within it. As he finished, a dark, murky, musky vapour emerged from the trees to surround them, but it was unable to penetrate the circle. Michael and Gabriel stood with arms raised as if in prayer. The cloud coalesced into the shape of a snake and then as it struck the circle, the force of its powerful strike was repelled by some hidden protective barrier that refused to be breached. Michael pulled Thor’s Blade from his bag, held it up and it began to glow at first softly and then erupted with a bright bursting flash of light that threw the black vaporous figure back. The unnatural creature shook, twisted and writhed violently before exploding with such force that it knocked Gabriel and Michael to the floor. The Dark spirit was gone.
“That was stimulating, who do you think it was?” asked Gabriel.
“Who? You mean what,” cried Michael. “I recognised it as soon as it took the shape of a serpent. It was Moloch. Mightiest of the Mages.”
“What’s Moloch doing here?” said Gabriel, visibly disturbed by such a revelation.
“The same reason we are,” replied Michael, “difference being he’s on the wrong side.”
“Moloch!” said Gabriel grimly. “Things have just got a lot more complicated if he can manifest like that. At least he’s not in physical form, yet. Do you think he was able to detect us?”
“The symbols,” said Michael, “would’ve protected us from being recognised. But not from him realising that someone with the power of the Angelos is here: perhaps I should not have used Thor's Blade at this time. It’s just our misfortune that he came upon us as he did. No doubt he’s out looking for something, probably information and he just happened to stumble upon us. The thing is what’s so important that it takes both Moloch and Lothos to be here at this time?”
“There’s something else,” growled the bear who had kept quiet up to that point.
“More trouble,” said Gabriel.
“The reason,” said the Bear, “I had attacked your camp, was not just because men had been stalking my kind, but also because they had done so with the aid of a creature that killed and skinned many of my Clan.”
“What creature?” Gabriel asked.
“It was,” said the Bear chillingly, “half man, half beast. Claws that any bear would have feared; powerful enough to shear a man in half; its teeth were more savage than a wolf. It was covered with a thick fur as black as its eyes. It came with the men that are not from this land. Do you know of what I speak?”
“I’m not sure,” said Michael hesitantly. “From your description it could be any number of creatures and all are as bad as each other. There are many fearsome foes that are in league with our enemy; the thing is they should now have taken an aspect natural to this world as we have done, but what you saw obviously hadn’t and that worries me. Only a powerful spirit indeed can maintain itself in its natural form without disturbing the fabric of nature, when entering another realm, as you would say, distant land.”
“Perhaps it is a creature of this world” whispered Gabriel, “It simply belongs to a different time; that’s been done before. Remember the Sentinel on Razors Edge at the far end of the Universe.”
Michael grimaced as he recalled the incident that had not been their finest hour.
“Well,” continued Gabriel stern faced. “Whoever or whatever it was; it’s powerful, that’s for sure. So that rules out a lot of suspects at least. What do we do next?”
“Now we say goodbye to the Bear,” replied Michael. “And go our separate ways.”
“What of my Clan? I still seek vengeance.” growled the Bear.
“Such a thing would destroy you as it has destroyed many before you,” replied Michael. “Go in peace and do not lock away such a pain but rid yourself of it if you can. If we have need of you we will call for your aid, until then walk freely my friend.”
“Free you say, none can be free while these bear biters, gnash, slash, and stalk my clan.”
The Bear looked from Michael to Gabriel as if agonising whether or not to remain; finally with a gruff grunt and a roar that shot a torrent of viscous spray from its mouth, it turned and disappeared into the wood. The two stared sadly after him; Michael shook his head, acts of vengeance led to the downfall of even the most noble creatures and often meant self-destruction. Michael gestured for them to be on their way but Gabriel hesitated.
“Moloch, Lothos and this mysterious Oracle - something’s amiss,” said Gabriel, as he kicked some stones away in frustration. “I wonder what other surprises are waiting for us?”
“One or two, I dare say,” replied Michael thoughtfully. “This latest battle hasn’t even begun. Not really. So we better prepare for it, and we had better find out why they are here at this time and soon.”
“Well then,” cried Gabriel as he raced away, “what are we waiting for?”
The two headed off toward the White River Valley keeping to a good pace, rushing across seas of lush grasses that swayed back and forth like the morning tide. They passed wandering Buffalo that were not even disturbed by their passage, herds of elk whose ears pricked up at the strange two legged creatures that swiftly crossed their path; and drew too near for comfort to a pack of hungry wolves, gnawing on a recent kill, who nevertheless still eyed them with more than a hint of curiosity. Soon they ventured by an area of wooded lowlands. As the sun sunk toward the horizon the canopy of trees were lit up by a thousand autumn leaves. In the distance could be seen great mountains with peaks of crystal ice, hooded by hostile clouds that danced along the roof of the world. The two stopped a moment to rest and eat. Gabriel began chewing on some tough meat, he crouched down picked up a broken twig and twirled it between his fingers.
“Wolves have been this way,” He smelled the twig and then threw it back to the ground. “And something more distasteful.”
“It’s not the wolves I’m worried about,” replied Michael. “It’s something more ravenous and savage; perhaps we should have split up. Gone to different times.”
“Too late to worry about that now,” said Gabriel, “besides, at least we have an idea of what we’re up against. If only an idea, after all the foundation stone of nature is symmetry.”
“Yes, but don’t forget that very human adage in a world of infinite possibilities: anything might occur, anything within the keeping of the Equilibrium that is.”
“You really have been among humanity for too long,” replied Gabriel.
“That’s as maybe, I have always thought that guarding the equilibrium more important than anything,” said Michael. “These acts we play out now may determine the fate of all.”
“That would explain Moloch and Lothos appearing at this time but not who might be with them.” replied Gabriel.
“You know, they must be here for something that affects the war. This may be a highly significant moment for us all.”
“Then being highly significant,” replied Gabriel, “begs the question can we do this on our own? There is something else. The Dragons use of the Vikings
whose belief structure is the way of the warrior.”
“I see,” said Michael, “you mean after our last meeting with the Norse we could have laid the foundations ourselves for their being used by the Dragon? I thought of that.”
“That’s exactly what I mean” replied Gabriel. “That encounter maybe left them susceptible to the machinations of the Dragon.”
“You could be right,” said Michael, “let us hope that that chance meeting that was so innocuous at the time, does not have significance now; in time as always the Dragon will reveal his true nature and then they will understand for themselves exactly how much they have been deceived.”
“Yes, but how many of them will have had to suffer before learning that truth? And there are other races with whom he still has a notable relationship with; the Wold for one, even after what he did to them, they still worship him as their great redeemer.”
“It was because he managed to convince them that the cause of their fall, came from being punished by the Angelos. And they know and still believe in their vanity that he has the ability to return them to their original form,” replied Michael. “They have not realised that he has no desire to do so, preferring them to remain his servants until the end of time.”
“Come, we cannot dwell on the past,” said Gabriel, nodding in agreement. “Just a bit farther past these woods and we will be close to the White River Valley. We’ll wait till the sun draws close to the horizon and enter their camp unnoticed.”
“But first let us make sure our adversary does not recognise us,” said Michael.
“You are not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, are you?” asked Gabriel.
Michael removed some of the stones from his pouch and using another stone, ground them down into a pulp and placed the contents into his water bottle; he then added a few herbs and drank, and passed the bottle to Gabriel, who gulped down the vile fluid, grimacing as he swallowed.
“That’s really awful,” winced Gabriel, champing loudly.
Michael afforded himself a smile. The two then turned and made their way through the woods, where the stench of burning fires mixed in with sweat and human excrement overpowered the softer smell of sycamore and autumn blossom. The two slowly crept past the two Vikings that stood telling tales of mythic creatures and ancient heroes. They came to the edge of the wood and peered through the thicket, dusk would soon turn to dark. Boldly they stepped out and almost immediately were confronted by two burly men and one of the First People, who grabbed a log from the fire and waved it in front of their faces. Swords hurriedly drawn gleamed with the last vestiges of the sun as it slowly dipped beneath the horizon.
“What have we here then?” said one of the Vikings.
“It’s one of them war parties,” said the other man.
The warrior of the first people recognised the two strangers from their previous encounter in the forest. He explained to the Vikings that War parties were made up of more than two persons and that the Abenaki were their brothers and before the Vikings had time to protest he waved Michael and Gabriel through.
The three got back to their fire and meats; while Gabriel gave Michael a nod of satisfaction, they would soon be in the enemy camp. Neither was stopped as they passed the stockade and wooden gatehouse and walked on into what was a fortified wooden enclosure; two bold warriors striding forward really were innocuous. Large timber-built huts had been erected, in fact in appearance the settlement was Viking in nature. At the heart of it was the Great Viking Hall with ornately designed and carved posts of Dragons to the front; it was built on a mound overlooking the entire commune. Yet there was something that struck them as being strange; the place looked well lived in. Nor was this an ordinary Viking settlement; it was more fortified and inhabited than usual for the period. Great bellows from a smithy nearby hurled out strong streaks of smoke engulfing Gabriel and Michael as they went. They followed a narrow path lit by oil lamps that shadowed their movements as they walked towards the great hall. There was a clamour from the small market where people were busy closing down their stalls as they chatted eagerly to one another about the day. To one corner of the settlement, in a small clearing, children were playing with wooden swords beneath hesitant lamps until a mother’s voice could be heard, telling them to make their way home to eat. The two strode by unnoticed, except for a few Seneca who shot them curious glances. Michael reached out and took hold of Gabriel’s arm, pointing to where wooden cages held captive all those taken in earlier raids. Grey Wolf could be seen, head bowed, leaning mournfully up against the bars of one of them. He was busy scratching angrily at his chains until someone roughly jabbed him in the stomach with a wooden pike. Having to ignore the sight the two marched on up the path to the Viking hall. They climbed the shallow creaking steps to the front and entered through the large carved open doors. To one side of the hall was a fire that shot flames almost roof high, sending smoke billowing up into the stone chimney. Shadows guarded jealously the tapestries and shields hanging from the walls. Long tables stretched on either side of the hall, and people shuffled around in an unruly drunken discourse. At the rear of the hall there was a raised platform, and on a high throne, sat the King, with his councillors crowding round him. By his side was a large black hound; indeed it appeared more wolf than hound: a daunting, savage looking beast, its eyes shone with intelligent malevolence in the shadowed light and even as it lay there it must have been mightier than any beast of that age. Perhaps it was the creature that the Cave Bear had spoken of and in that gloom it’s ominous form did appear as if it could walk on two legs and stand as a human does.
Raised voices suggested that all was not well. Gabriel and Michael found a seat in the corner away from intrusive ears, and made a pretence of eating some of the food that had been laid out. A Viking almost seven feet tall stood over the King; his eyes held an icy blue immovable flame and next to him was someone recognisable to the Sky People - Lothos, the foe hammer of the Dragon. Great indeed was his presence, long silver hair reached out beneath his helm like matted tentacles, his armour shone with a hollow silvery gleam; broad of shoulder he held in his hand what appeared to be a Sacred Seal, one that could open doorways to other universes even dimensions, and his other hand gently rested on the hilt of his sword. It now became obvious that it was Leif Erikson who had made the long journey west, and it was easy enough to see why; most likely he had been offered lordship over all the nations of Turtle Island. He sat there stoically talking to his attendants and his thick set features were as well carved as the throne he sat upon. His long blond hair rested down to his midriff. His blue piercing eyes noticed the two newcomers, but were soon distracted by the warrior at his side.
“No, no, no,” shouted the King. “We shall wait for spring and then strike west up the great river but first we must exhaust all efforts to find the treasure spoken of at our assembly, so in the meantime we keep looking here abouts.”
“King Erikson, if we wait,” said the man his jaw tightening, “they will know of and be prepared for our coming.”
“Olaf,” sneered the King. “The people here do not even know the workings of metal. Are you really frightened by such a foe? Perhaps you should have stayed in Brattahlio with the women.”
Olaf swept his cloak back, visibly angered by the remark. He was a tall Viking, his fare hair flowed chaotically from beneath his helm. He was wrapped in the long fur of a bear, which dragged along the floor behind him. His mail shirt glistened as his cold merciless eyes bit into the gloom and hinted at an almost unnatural dispassion.
“I am no coward, my lord,” Olaf replied between gritted teeth, “but I do not share your confidence of an easy victory. I have seen these people fight, remember.”
“Fight,” scoffed the King thumping his hand down, “they fight like little children skulking in shadows and not like warriors. We shall listen to the council of Lothos.”
Olaf drew back, behind his furrowed mask hid a burning rage.
“If,” said the K
ing, clutching at the golden pendant hanging around his neck, “there is nothing more, you may leave.”
Olaf bit his lip, there was something else he wished to add, when suddenly his face became vacant and distracted, just as the pendant Leif Erikson wore throbbed with some unknown energy. Evidently forgetting momentarily what it was he wished to say and thinking better of a confrontation with the King at that time, he strode stiffly away.
The King turned his attention to his other councillors, who did not disguise their delight and mirth at Olaf’s chastened exit. The large beast at the King’s side watched darkly from the shadows, its hair bristling, saliva dripping from opened jaws as if it were ready to tear savagely at any that might threaten its master’s authority.
Gabriel and Michael had seen and heard enough, so silently they rose and followed Olaf as he made his way from the great hall. Outside the ground beneath them was muddy and uncertain. The slight drizzle that had accompanied their arrival had turned to a downpour. Still they crept along watching Olaf as they went; the sound of their movements disguised by the rattling downpour at their feet. He stopped by the smithy they had passed earlier, then at a small stall that was slow to clear its wares away. He chatted a moment with the stall holder who gave out a raucous laugh, then placed down the ornament that had drawn his attention and moved off. They almost lost him as he turned down the side of a hut, the long fur of his bear skin cloak embracing thick timber walls as he disappeared from view. Quickly they darted forward, not wishing to lose sight of him, but as they slipped round the same corner, to their astonishment Olaf stood confronting them with an outstretched sword in his hand.
“Speak quickly as to your intention,” he growled, “or you will both find your end here.”
“We heard your altercation with the King, and believe we can be of assistance to you,” said Michael. “It is of this we wish to speak.”
“And what do you two think you can possibly do to help me?” said Olaf sheathing his sword with a wry smile.
“We know these lands,” said Gabriel. “We can lead you in your quest westward and help your army slip upstream before the season of falling leaves turns to the barren time.”
Olaf stared at them impassively; as if sizing them up.
“How do I know,” replied Olaf, “that your offer is not a ruse to set a trap? I’m sorry, I don’t trust you people. You are a conquered nation. Besides I don’t have the King’s ear unlike Lothos. And I don’t even believe he is what he says he is. There is something strange about him and his dark art.”
“We know of him,” said Michael warily, “so let us talk honestly to one another, where we cannot be overheard by the spies of Lothos.”
“Interesting that you should know of one such as he. That is something I would like to know of.” Olaf tightly gripped the hilt of his sword, “you will speak and I will listen. But be sure of what you say; your lives will depend upon it.”
Olaf gestured for them to follow him. He walked proudly as only a man of his stature and aspect could. His boots even caked with mud, did not struggle on the sticky rain soaked path. His clear eyes peered out from beneath his helmet. Each wooden hut was isolated from the next. Each one lay sullen and silent; smoke filtered from stone chimneys, fractured light escaped through small windowed openings. There was nothing ornate about such timber huts; unlike the Great Hall they were all similarly unadorned and ungracious in appearance.
They finally reached Olaf’s residence. He held the door open to let Gabriel and Michael enter. To their surprise there was a young woman inside, though they could not tell what nation of the First People she belonged to, she was undoubtedly not Viking. Her long raven hair reached down her lithe slender form which was not hidden by her buckskin tunic, and she wore tasselled boots that merely extenuated the length of her legs. Without question food was laid on the table. Olaf looked on her with kindly eyes, his demeanour altering, becoming warm; it was as though he were transformed. He disappeared behind a screen to change. A small fire burned in the open hearth, sending long shadows across the room and giving soft comfort to barren walls, which were bare except for where Olaf had hung his sword and shield. Gabriel and Michael were seated at the table with their backs to the wall and stared curiously at the woman.
“You are no Viking,” said Michael.
“I am of the Iroquois,” said the woman, “My name is Humming Bird. I was a medicine woman among my people. And you?”
“We are Abenaki,” replied Michael, “What is a medicine woman doing with a stranger?”
“That stranger,” said Humming Bird. “Is my husband.”
She also walked behind the screen. The two joined their guests once Olaf had changed into something more accommodating. He was now wearing a tunic and breeches and sat opposite Michael; as he did so he called Humming Bird to be seated.
“So these are the men, are they?” said Olaf turning to Humming Bird, “The ones called Gabriel and Michael?”
“What!” gasped Gabriel, surprised by the use of their real names.
“It is I, Uziel,” said Olaf.
“I thought you lost to Pestilence!” Gabriel gasped his eyes narrowing in disbelief.
“No; after the Dragon or his acolyte Moloch had freed what was held within that Codex, I knew I had to escape the middle age of man, but also I knew I had to make sure that my getting away would not be recognised as such,” said Uziel, “I’m afraid it meant sacrificing the body, hence the deception and you thinking me destroyed. I’m sad to report that they killed half of Europe, all to make sure they stopped one man. A Watcher that went by the name of Will Oxley; he was the keeper of a Codex and an important one at that though I did not gather what use it had. Even so, I did prevent it from falling into the Dragon’s hands, but I do not know what happened to it, as the portal I sent it through was destroyed and I had to flee before I could get an accurate reading from it as to where it went.”
Gabriel, sullen faced, looked toward Michael.
“Well, more’s the pity,” said Gabriel, “it must have been important indeed if he had to unleash Pestilence to get to it. Perhaps even more important than the Codex of Pestilence; and that is a frightening thought. Tell us, how have you managed to remain hidden here?”
“Rebirth, of course,” replied Olaf. “I must say that the past twenty-five years have felt like a thousand with all the ravaging and killing, over the past year, through the help of the Spirit People and Humming Bird in particular I have managed to recover my true self.”
“Then,” said Michael urgently, “how did you recognise us?”
“With Humming Bird’s help,” said Uziel. “She is a Shaman of some prominence to her people, so I told her what I needed, to recognise other Sky People, and she made it possible. Don’t look so worried. You have remained hidden from Lothos and Malachi. Listen, I’d hoped to catch up with the Dragon, but instead I found them...”
“Malachi is here also? That’s desperate news indeed, and we know that Moloch is here in spirit at least. Tell me, how did they meet Leif Erikson?” asked Gabriel, brushing dust from the table.
“About three years ago they appeared in the form of Viking Lords,” replied Uziel, “telling of lands unknown even to the Eastern Roman Empire that were ripe for conquering and were rich beyond imagination. Of course Leif Erikson jumped at the chance of being King, hence we are here. The thing is he is no fool; he has the ability to bend others to his will though I do not know how, but I’m sure it has something to do with that pendant around his neck.”
“Well that certainly fills in a few gaps for us, so how did you and Humming Bird meet?” asked Gabriel.
“Before the Grey Beards came,” said Humming Bird, “my people always lived in the white river region; I saw the doom of my people in a vision quest and the spirit told me to look for someone with the appearance of a bear; a bear to fight off the wolves and when I saw Olaf I knew it was him. The spirit also told me that when you arrived for the sake of the First People my life with O
laf should end and I was to let a new one begin. I have long prepared for your coming, so for me what is important is that Olaf and I have had time together, over a year in fact and I am thankful for that.”
“A year?” said Michael in surprise.
“We have been here in these lands for over a year at the very least,” said Uziel.
“At the very least, eh,” said Michael thoughtfully. “That explains why everything is so well bedded in.”
“There’s something else,” said Uziel instinctively lowering his voice. “It’s about Malachi, he is here looking for a Codex, it could be the same one that pestilence was unleashed for. I think they’re close to discovering where it might be. In this regard we may have an advantage as today Humming Bird was told by her ancestors in a dream trance that a Codex of some value lies with the Ute in the Great Basin although the message she received was confusing - from what she could make out, a Shaman by the name of Running Bear guards it. Also there’s something else - for her ancestors to have contacted her suggests there is some unknown danger regarding this Codex that will directly affect her and her people. Which also means the sooner we find it the better it would be.”
“We came here with the intention of freeing Grey Wolf but I am suspicious as to why Lothos and Malachi would be here now hunting this one Codex. And let us not forget our recent encounter with Moloch.” said Michael, rubbing the small cleft in his chin. “Why is he being summoned here too? So the question is do we now just go after the Codex?”
“No, since we know why they're here we try to work out a way to stop them or beat them to it; and in the mean-time we free Grey Wolf,” said Gabriel. “There is a stockade around the perimeter of the settlement. You, Uziel, will stand watch at the gate where the stockade can be more easily breached. Humming bird will take Michael to fire the stables, and loose the horses and other animals. In the confusion I will free Grey Wolf and we will then make our escape.”
“That’s all very good,” said Michael, “but both the stables and the cage holding Grey Wolf are well guarded. Also there’s the small matter of Malachi and Lothos not forgetting where, what and who Moloch might be.”
“I have a better plan; much simpler, which does not require such subterfuge,” said Olaf. “Come dawn, I whom am a man with some standing among the Vikings will take Grey Wolf out of the compound accompanied by you two. We will say that we believe that some of his people are hiding not far from here and that we wish to find out if that’s the case by getting him to lead us to them. The three of us take horses while we force Grey Wolf to walk bound and tied by a rope to my saddle. In the meanwhile Humming Bird meets us with an extra horse just past the forest where there is an outcrop of rocks known to us as Bear Point. We then make our escape riding west toward the Great Basin; Lothos will be too busy going after the Codex to concern himself with a renegade and a freed slave. Also I will get you some swords; I will have to have them hidden as there is a law that First People should not be so armed, on penalty of death no less. It appears Lothos is still uncomfortable with his First People allies, and does not want them turning against him; he suspects treachery at every turn.”
“Well that confirms it. It really is Lothos, and not some shapeshifting Mage,” said Gabriel.
Sitting back in his seat, Michael looked at Gabriel with a nod and a raised eyebrow. “And that is a better plan than yours. Let’s do it.”
“Uziel, it’s good to have you back,” said Gabriel with a grim smile on his face.
Valour of the Spirit People Page 4