“I’d rather take my odds in the woods than slumber between these walls,” Rey muttered. The chorus of agreement died off as a loud clang jolted the air. Collectively, they turned to the source of the sound.
Claws sliding out, Hekla eyed the building. “Who took the mead hall?”
“Group endeavor, I suppose?” said Axe Eyes. His sword unsheathed, he ambled to the hall. With a single, powerful kick, thedoor burst open, the moldered scent slapping them with sudden intensity.
“Gods,” muttered Rey, throwing an elbow over his nose. “Worse than Gunnar’s armpits.”
“Worse than Siggie’s cooking,” Gunnar countered.
Worse than Hekla’s boots,signed Sigrún.
“Worse than a dung heap,” chimed in Thrand, clearly not understanding how this worked.
Rey retrieved a torch and lit it with his strange smoke magic, sending Hekla a sheepish look. He’d spoken to the Bloodaxe Crew in private and had explained the reasons for his secrecy. In truth, she had yet to accept it fully. But it was one thing to hear he was a so-called Ashbringer Galdra, and quite another to see it with her own eyes.
Cautiously, the group eased through the doorway. The mead hall had seen better days. Tables were overturned, chairs smashed to bits, crimson and black blood spraying the walls. Hekla stepped over a scalp, warrior’s braid still attached, and scowled at a severed hand pinned to the wall by a dagger.
The rattle of iron chains broke the silence of the mead hall, and now Hekla was certain it came from out back.
“We mean you no harm!” Rey called out, jerking two fingers upward. Sigrún and Gunnar silently fell into step behind him. “We search for survivors.”
A low, guttural sound was the only reply.
Rey nodded, and they edged through the doorway as a unit. Hekla slunk behind him, her heart a loud drumbeat in her skull. The smell was overpowering, forcing Hekla to breathe through her mouth and quashing any hopes of survivors.
A lone figure lunged for them with clawed hands and blood-red eyes. Gunnar made to swing his blade, but Rey held up a fist and he retreated. A chain fastened around the draugur’s neck reached the end of its length, and the undead creature stumbled back.
And Hekla understood why this draugur alone remained in thevillage. Perhaps the mortal man had been caught thieving and had been chained here to await his trial. Hekla supposed they’d never truly know. Because this thing, snarling with rage, was no longer a man.
“Where are they?” demanded Rey. “Where are the villagers—the survivors?”
Froth gathered in the draugur’s mouth, its red eyes burning ever brighter. It threw itself against the chains with another incoherent hiss.
“I think it’s saying something,” said Eyvind, standing to her right with a pocket linen pressed to his nose.
Hekla’s ears strained, trying to make out the draugur’s voice through the clamor of its chains. “Rökksgarde,” she repeated, exchanging a curious look with Rey. The draugur repeated the sound. “Rökksgarde, I’m sure of it!”
“What is Rökksgarde?” asked Thrand, scratching his forehead with the pommel of his sword.
Hekla searched her mind for any clues but came up short.
Rey snatched the creature’s chains, yanking it forward. “Is this a place? Have the others gone to this…Rökksgarde? Where are they?”
But the draugur wrenched itself free, then threw itself forward. Rey bobbed backward out of its reach, but as the collar caught, it cut a deep gouge into the draugur’s neck.
Rey let out a low sigh, and Hekla understood—the vile beast was now incapable of speech. After signaling for the others to back out of range, Rey hefted his sword and gripped it in two hands. And with a swift, brutal swing, the draugur’s head was severed from its body.
“May Stjarna light your path,” he murmured, staring at what had once been a man. Rey turned to face the group of warriors, a weary expression on his face.
“Rökksgarde,” repeated Gunnar. “Gardemeans ‘yard’ in the old language, does it not?”
“AndRökk?” chimed in Thrand. “What does that mean?”
“ ‘Twilight,’ ” said Rey dully. “I can only imagine this place is related to the twilight of days.”
“Does that mean the other draugur have gone to this…Rökksgarde?” Hekla mused.
Rey wiped the black blood from his blade on the dead man’s tunic before sheathing it. “It does not concern us at the moment.” He paused, lips pulling down. “We will burn this man to ensure his death. And then we ride on.”
