He was less than impressed. ‘You think that’s Valhalla? ’
‘No, but Valhalla is under it!’ said Tova. ‘The Vikings often put their dead in burial mounds – the largest in Sweden is called Anundshög, in Västmanland. It is big, over nine metres high.’ She led the way around the little hill. ‘Perhaps that is even where the name came from; “Valhalla” means “the hall of the slain”, but if whatever was built here was buried to hide or protect it, then it would have looked just like a burial mound.’
‘It’d match the runes,’ Nina noted. ‘They said Odin’s hall was now of the slain.’
‘You mean Valhalla might just be a nickname?’ Eddie asked dubiously.
Nina smiled. ‘You’ve heard of Emperor Caligula?’
‘The mad, pervy one? Course I have.’
‘Caligula was a nickname – it was a type of soldier’s boot. His real name was Gaius Germanicus.’
‘No wonder he changed it. But if this place was so important to the Vikings, why would they bury it? What were they trying to protect?’
‘The eitr,’ said Kagan as he caught up. ‘They were afraid of it, because they knew how deadly it was – but they also knew some people would still be crazy enough to look for it.’
‘That might be where the myth of Loki comes from,’ Nina said thoughtfully. ‘He was a Norse god like Thor and Odin, but he betrayed them and sided with the serpent and the wolf at Ragnarök. Maybe he was like Hoyt – he wanted to use the eitr as a weapon.’
‘So they hid the map to the eitr pits so that only Vikings they trusted would know how to find it?’ said Eddie.
Tova nodded. ‘The only time they would need it would be when Ragnarök was upon them.’
‘Kind of an “open in event of doomsday” thing?’
‘It’d explain why they went to such lengths to hide it,’ said Nina. ‘You don’t want your people deciding to go out there on a macho whim. If you think the Midgard Serpent’s about to surface, though, that’s when you gather the troops and follow the secret path to Valhalla. It’s a mobilisation point. Once you’re here, the next stop is the serpent’s pit – the source of the eitr.’
‘Novaya Zemlya,’ Kagan said. ‘Or . . . the other place. We have to find it – before Hoyt and Berkeley do.’
‘We’ve got to get inside first,’ Eddie pointed out. He looked up at the mound. ‘And we might have to do a lot of digging – this thing’s big, it must be at least forty feet high. We’ll need to find a door.’
Tova stopped. ‘A compass! Does anyone have a compass?’ Phones were produced in unison. ‘Ah, of course. But we should go to the west side of the mound. Which way is it?’
Eddie checked his compass app. ‘Keep going this way around it. Shouldn’t be far.’
‘Why the west side?’ Nina asked.
The Swede set off again, her pace quicker than before. ‘The entrance to Valhalla is supposed to be on the western side, guarded by a wolf.’
‘A wolf, eh?’ said Eddie, suddenly on alert and checking the surrounding forest. ‘Good job I brought the Wildey.’
‘I don’t think it’ll still be on guard after over a thousand years,’ said Nina. She now almost had to jog to keep up with Tova, who had picked up a stick and was scampering along the edge of the barrow, poking at the snow. ‘What are you looking for?’
‘They may have left a marker, even a runestone, just as they did in the Arctic,’ Tova replied. ‘Are we at the west side yet?’
‘Pretty much,’ Eddie answered.
‘Then there could be something that would show the way in. Help me look for it, please.’
The others joined in her search. Nina soon found something under the snow that seemed promising, but a tap with her boot revealed nothing more than a lump of broken wood. Disappointed, she continued around the mound. If Valhalla really was buried beneath it, it could be a very large structure: she guessed the barrow’s total length at close to three hundred feet. If there was no marker, then Eddie would be right – it would require a lot of digging to open it up . . .
She approached a tree, a small conifer rather than an ash. Its trunk was tilted at an angle, and as she drew closer she saw why: the ground dropped away on its far side, almost as if a trench had been cut into the earthen slope. She reached its edge and looked down into it. The overhanging tree, some of its roots exposed where the unstable soil had slid away, had shielded it from most of the snow.
Even though it was thickly carpeted with ice-crusted dead leaves and partially hidden by scrubby bushes, she could tell that the cutting, with its level floor and steep sides, was not natural.
A dark opening, about five feet high and framed by gnarled ash roots, lurked at its end. Her heart raced. ‘Tova! Over here – I think I’ve found it!’
The group hurried to her. ‘This must be it!’ Tova cried, hopping down on to the frozen detritus. She peered into the opening. ‘There is something back there – it may be a gate!’
‘Whoa, whoa!’ Eddie shouted as she moved to enter. ‘Hold on a minute!’
Tova stopped with a questioning look. ‘What is wrong?’
‘Don’t you remember? It had different names depending on what translation you read. One of them was a gate . . . and the other was a death-barrier! Don’t just run in there.’
‘I really wouldn’t,’ Nina added. ‘We’ve learned that the hard way. Eddie, you’ve got a flashlight, haven’t you?’
He climbed down into the trench and took a powerful torch from his backpack, then shone it into the hole. The beam revealed dirty, dull grey metal. ‘Looks like lead,’ he said, sweeping the light across its surface. More details appeared. The obstruction was one of a pair of double doors. A rough image of a wolf, head lowered aggressively, had been pounded into the lead. Lines of small holes ran across the barrier at head, stomach and knee height.
‘What are those?’ Kagan asked.
‘I dunno, but I’m not going to poke a finger inside to find out.’ He fixed the torch on a larger vertical slot in one of the doors, then raised it to illuminate its interior. ‘I think they’re made of wood – the lead’s just armour. I can’t see anything on the other side, though. It’s blocked off.’
Nina moved alongside him. ‘You know what would fit into that? The sun compass that was set into the runestone, if you turned it sideways on.’
‘“The two parts together brought, shall alone open the death-gate of Valhalla,”’ said Tova quietly.
‘The compass must be some sort of key. No idea how, but it can’t be a coincidence that it’s the right size. Eddie, let me have the flashlight.’
‘Careful,’ he warned as she took the torch and stepped closer to shine it into the slot. ‘You might set something off.’
‘I’m not going to touch it,’ she assured him, leaning as close as she dared to peer into the opening. As Eddie had said, the barrier was made of fire-hardened logs behind the lead sheathing. But there was more lead inside, plates of the dull metal on each side of the slot. The temptation was strong to prod one to see if it moved, but she resisted. ‘I think there’s a mechanism, but I don’t—’
She was interrupted by Kagan’s bark of ‘Quiet!’ The Russian turned, expression intense. ‘I can hear something. I think it is a plane!’
The others froze, listening. The snow-cloaked stillness of the forest surrounded them . . . then was broken by a harsh mechanical buzz.
Distant – but getting closer.
‘It’s not a plane,’ Nina whispered, trying to pinpoint its origin. ‘It’s too low.’
‘It’s coming from the river,’ said Eddie grimly. The hearing loss he had sustained from years of gunfire and explosions had affected his sensitivity to higher-frequency sounds, but the droning noise was all too clear. He jumped out of the trench and ran back up the slope towards the waterfall. ‘Come on!’
Nina and Tova followed, Kagan loping along as quickly as he could. The group reached the top of the cliff and looked back at the frozen river.
Several vehicles were racing along it.
Nina didn’t need binoculars to know who was in them. ‘It’s Berkeley and Hoyt,’ she gasped. ‘They’ve found us.’
25
Tova stared at the convoy in dismay. ‘It – it might not be them,’ she said, with very little conviction.
‘No, it’s got to be,’ Eddie growled. He counted seven vehicles: two snowmobiles in the lead, followed by a trio of large 4x4s, and another pair that took him a moment to identify as icerunners – two-seaters resembling steroidal bobsleds, driven by noisy pusher propellers on their tails. ‘Nobody else’d come out here in force like that.’
‘Damn you, Logan,’ Nina snarled. Even if the off-roaders only had four occupants each, that still meant they were facing at least eighteen people.
They watched as the vehicles headed for the ravine. Rather than halt so their passengers could reach the rock bridge on foot, however, they continued on through the narrow valley, the roar of engines echoing from its sides.
‘Perhaps they are not stopping,’ said Tova, again sounding unconvinced by her own suggestion.
Nina shook her head. ‘They’ll have had access to satellite maps, just like us. They probably think it’ll be easier to reach Valhalla if they go farther upriver and double back.’ She turned to Eddie. ‘What do we do?’
‘They might not have seen the snowmobiles,’ he said, ‘so there’s a chance they don’t know we’re here. If they don’t . . .’ A moment of thought, then he jogged to a nearby tree and jumped to grab a large branch, pulling until it snapped from the trunk. ‘There’s some rocks overlooking the entrance, over there,’ he said, pointing to a spot about a hundred metres west of the barrow. ‘Get behind ’em and stay low.’
‘What are you going to do?’ demanded Kagan.
‘Cover our tracks. I’ll come up after you when I’m done.’ Hefting the branch over one shoulder, he returned to the entrance as Nina and the others headed for the rocks.
Before long, the rumble of engines cut out. Nina checked her map; from the direction of the sound, the vehicles had probably stopped on flatter ground about half a mile to the north. Assuming that Berkeley had accurately pinpointed Valhalla’s location, that meant Hoyt’s forces were only around fifteen minutes away on foot.
She looked over her cover at the mound. Eddie was using the evergreen’s branch like a carpet sweeper, swinging it from side to side as he paced backwards along the group’s tracks to brush away their footsteps. But it did not take much effort to spot that something had disturbed the snow, even if the bootprints themselves were no longer clear. If Hoyt’s team spent any time searching the area, the game would be up.
Eddie finally backed to the top of the depression. He swept over the tracks at the slope’s brow, then yomped to the others. ‘Did the best I could, but it’s not great,’ he said. ‘Any sign of ’em?’
Kagan had produced a compact set of binoculars and was scanning the trees to the north. ‘No, but I do not think they can be far away now.’
‘Yeah, I know. Unless they all get eaten by a troll.’ Tova managed a small smile at Eddie’s joke.
Silence descended once more. Minutes passed. Tension rose amongst the little group. The arrival of the intruders was inevitable – it was just a question of when, and from where . . .
‘I see them,’ Kagan hissed, locking his binoculars on a particular spot. ‘About a hundred and fifty metres.’
Nina picked out new colours amongst the white and brown and green. Men in bulky winter gear, most with hoods up to protect their heads from the cold, were tramping through the forest.
Coming towards them. Berkeley’s deductions had been accurate.
Kagan kept watching. ‘I count . . . nineteen, maybe twenty.’
‘Let me look,’ said Eddie. Kagan gave him the binoculars. ‘I see Hoyt – and Berkeley. He’s got a GPS or something, he’s checking it . . . he just pointed at the mound.’ He passed them back to the Russian and opened his coat to draw the Wildey. ‘Just want it ready,’ he told the concerned women. ‘I’m not going to start shooting. Yet.’
Voices reached them as Hoyt’s team drew closer. Berkeley led the way, wearing a bright yellow padded jacket that stood out from his more muted companions. Behind him was Hoyt, hood down and a cigarette between his lips. A P90 sub-machine gun was slung over his shoulder. Most of the other men were similarly armed.
‘Pity you didn’t bring that sniper rifle,’ Eddie told Kagan. He watched as the rest of the group followed Berkeley through the snow. The archaeologist divided his attention between the GPS and his surroundings – then lowered the device and broke into a clumsy jog, pointing excitedly at the ashes.
‘This is it!’ he called. ‘Look at the trees!’ He reached the mound and glanced around, then spotted the cutting at the foot of the tilted tree. ‘Over here!’
Eddie drew in an anxious breath, his hand tightening around the gun. ‘If they see our footprints, we’re in deep shit. We’ll have to run for the waterfall and try to get back to the snowmobiles.’
Nina felt a chill that no amount of warm clothing could prevent as Berkeley reached the trench and hopped down into it. Hoyt did the same, waiting for an unarmed man, face hidden by his hood, to join him before heading for the darkened opening.
They reached the brushed snow above the edge of the trench . . .
And continued past it. The prospect of discovering what lay in the darkness was too enticing to resist. A couple of the other mercenaries followed them, the remainder spreading out around the foot of the mound. Cigarettes were lit, food and drink produced from pockets and packs.
‘They don’t know we’re here,’ said Nina with relief. ‘They aren’t expecting trouble.’
‘Maybe not, but they’re still ready for it,’ Eddie replied. He borrowed the binoculars again. Flickers of light came from the darkness as Berkeley shone a torch over the lead barrier. ‘Okay, they’re having a look at the doors . . . Berkeley’s checking out that slot.’
‘Let me see,’ Nina demanded, plucking the binoculars from his hands. He made a ‘tchah!’ sound, but she ignored it, intent on discovering what was going on below. Berkeley continued his examination of the slot, then, after exchanging words with Hoyt and the other man, signalled to one of the armed mercenaries in the trench behind them. ‘Now what’s he doing . . . Oh, crap.’
‘What is it?’ asked Tova.
‘He’s got the sun compasses!’ The mercenary took a box from his backpack, the two dark stone discs inside. Berkeley extracted them and, with great care, brought them together back-to-back. He flinched as they suddenly clapped against each other with a clink that was audible even from her hiding place. ‘They are magnetic – he’s just fitted them together. And I was right, they’re exactly the same size as the slot. Dammit, they really are a key!’
She watched helplessly as Hoyt shone the light on the opening in the door and Berkeley, looking extremely pleased with himself, gently eased the combined compasses into it as if inserting a coin into a slot machine. ‘He’s putting it in, and . . .’
‘And?’ prompted Eddie after a few seconds.
‘And nothing!’ Nina exclaimed. Berkeley’s expression slipped to annoyance, then confusion. He used his fingertips to edge the disc back out, then tried again with more force. ‘It’s not doing anything.’
Another attempt had the same lack of result. Frustrated, Berkeley removed the compasses, holding them as he began an animated discussion with Hoyt and his companion. It went on for a good minute, the archaeologist repeatedly gesturing at the doors and becoming visibly more dismayed each time.
‘He’s really not happy,’ Nina reported. ‘I think Hoyt wants to bust the doors open.’
‘But – but that will destroy the site,’ Tova protested.
‘I don’t think he cares,’ said Eddie.
The group looked on from their hiding place as Berkeley reluctantly caved in to Hoyt and his companion, and called out to the mercenaries. A man whom Nina recogn
ised as one of the team from the Norwegian lake flicked away a cigarette and picked up a large case he had brought, taking it into the trench. ‘Son of a . . .’ she spluttered when she saw what was inside.
‘What is it? Kagan asked.
‘It’s a chainsaw! They’re going to open the doors with a frickin’ chainsaw!’
Eddie chuckled humourlessly. ‘Now that’s my kind of archaeology.’ Both women glared at him. ‘Joking, obviously. Well, mostly.’
Nina scowled, then looked back through the binoculars. Berkeley aimed his light at the doors, pointing to a particular spot. The man with the chainsaw nodded and pulled the cord to start it. The machine’s snarl shattered the quiet, a few birds that had been roosting nearby taking panicked flight.
The others in the trench retreated as the man stepped up to the doors and raised the saw. ‘God damn it, Logan,’ Nina said, wincing at the first screech of metal slashing through metal. ‘You don’t—’
A scream made everyone, mercenaries and their hidden observers alike, jump. The chainsaw revved violently as its user staggered back into the light – and sliced into his leg, blood spouting against the side of the trench. ‘What the fuck just happened?’ Eddie said, startled.
Through the field glasses, Nina had a clear view of the shocking sight. The horrific gash in his thigh was not the only injury the mercenary had received. Blood was also running down the front of his coat – from a foot-long wooden shaft buried in his abdomen. He screamed again, falling on his back. ‘Jesus!’ she said as Hoyt rushed up and threw the chainsaw clear. ‘Eddie, you were right – it was booby-trapped. Looks like it shot an arrow out of one of those holes.’
More of his comrades ran to help the screaming man. ‘Everyone get away from the doors!’ Berkeley shouted, hurriedly scrambling clear.
The wounded mercenary was hauled out of the trench, leaving a trail of blood through the snow. ‘Who’s got the fuckin’ medical kit?’ Hoyt demanded. One of his men retrieved something from a pack. ‘No, that won’t be enough! He’s gonna need morphine! Someone go back to the trucks and get the proper fuckin’ thing!’ Two of the mercs raced away back along the group’s tracks. ‘Put a tent up – we need to get that thing out of him!’