“
“Arndt?”
Hilde’s questioning voice cut through the gloom. Bard looked to her as she clambered up from the floor, and then back to the warrior spirit only to find he was no longer there. Only the barest scent of grave dirt remained in the wraith’s stead.
Hilde pawed at the space where Arndt had just been, fingers stirring empty air. “Was he truly…?” The question was devoured by the bestial roar that set the night to trembling.
“Merciless Hel,” Devin muttered as he came to stand alongside Bard and Hilde. “What was that?”
“We need to leave.” Bard retrieved his ax and went to unbar the door.
“No,” Hilde called out. “We can’t just—”
But Bard had no ears for her. When the dead warned of doom, those who wished to live heeded their words. He shucked the bar free of the door and yanked it open, charging outside, ax leading the way. Only the empty village greeted him, but there was no mistaking the corruption that wormed its way amidst the darkness. It set his skin afire.
Another guttural roar thundered, this one nearer than the last. Whatever Haakon had loosed would be upon them soon. The sound faded, and he heard Hilde’s and Devin’s shuffled motions over the last of it as they followed him, their reluctance nipped in the tail. He spun about, his companions but a blur to his side, and instinct made his choice for him. Bard sprinted for the trees.
Though the darkness crowded about, the stars lent him their sight. He cut straight across the grassy terrain, doing nothing to hide his presence from whatever witchery dogged his heels. Neither stealth nor subterfuge would serve him now. His companions followed where he led, their huffed breaths keeping pace.
They reached the line of trees just as something crashed at their backs. Wood splintered like shattered bones and stones clattered, heavy thumps sounding as they rained down from the force of the blow that had demolished the hut they’d only just fled. The ground shook beneath Bard’s feet, but it did nothing to slow his headlong flight. He barreled through the clustered trees, branches and leaves slashing at his face, each fresh sting spurring him on.
“This way,” Hilde called as she darted past, her long legs slicing away at Bard’s lead. She ducked low and veered left, and Bard turned after her. He heard Devin do the same just behind.
Trees whipped past as they ran, humus crunching beneath their boots. Whatever hounded them stayed the course, malevolent shrieks peppering their spines with sharpened knives of terror. Branches snapped in discordant rhythm as the creature entered the woods.
Bard set his eyes on the back of Hilde’s head, her blonde hair a beacon in the darkness, and matched his pace to hers as best he could. She ran as if Fenrir himself chased after them, and that was not far from the mark.
“
Bard turned to keep running but before he could spot Hilde, or spy where Devin was behind him, he collided with something that gave way with a howl of pain — albeit a howl from a human throat. They both hit the hard ground, and Bard found himself sprawled alongside a man in mail who wore the sign of King Harald Bluetooth on his coat. The man spared him a brief glance, then looked agape at the lindvurm as it came on. He left his sword and helm among the leaves and scrambled to his feet.
“Wait,” Bard growled, fetching his ax and clambering upright, but the man dashed into the darkness of the woods.
Bard cast about, noticing more of Bluetooth’s raiders fleeing in the same direction.
A scream grabbed Bard’s attention before he could sort his thoughts, and he looked to see a warrior snatched within the massive lindvurm’s jaws. The man’s howls were cut off as the monster’s snout snapped shut. It swallowed the warrior down, tossing its head back, and shafts of white moonlight illuminated the beast. Atop its snake-like coils swiveled the head of a dragon and a spiky mane of bleached spines. The bulk of the monster was seemingly made from a motley transgression of slain nidhoggr, patched in spots with rivulets of grave dirt, while here and there jutted the moldy bones of the long-dead, as well as much fresher, battle-fallen corpses.