Curse Of Blood: Gods & Monsters

Chapter XLII - Heida

Berserkir (Beserkers) "Bear-shirts" & Úlfheðnar  (oolv-HETH-nahr) "wolf hides" are fierce warrior shamans (Odin's men) that, by wearing the pelts of either bear or wolf, can induce a state of possession of their animal totems. They were supposed to be terrifying on the battlefield as they rushed at their foes, sometimes without their shields, dressed in nothing but their animal skins.

"Oh gods, Roth!" Heida lowered herself in front of him and laid her trembling hands at either side of his face. "Not now!"

His own hands were fevered as they covered hers. "Nay, not yet; but soon." He pushed himself up, but, in the next instant, doubled over with another roar of pain.

"Do you negate your own fears or seek to assuage mine?" said she, nervously.

"Both," he whispered.

"Tell me what to do!" Heida cried, her panicked eyes flying through the shadowed trees for any sign of help. That, however, was likely a double-edged sword, for it was best that, if indeed the valdyr emerged here and now, she be the only one in propinquity; the only one endangered.

"We must ... I must get to Niflheim!"

The cave! Of course! "Where is it?" She had never been. No one had, not even Aila.

With an abrupt nudge of his head, he indicated the direction they would take and she helped him to stand, his entire body racked with strange and sickening snaps; moreover, contorting ever and anon with hideous shudderings. She supported nearly all his weight as he grunted through the agonies lashing at his insides.

There were tears dimming her eyes to see him so afflicted, and to see the odd protuberances beginning to reshape his face and body. By and by, as his breathing accelerated and his grunting became more like sibilant growling, her sobs became more anguished. The terror surged as surely as the valdyr whelmed within the man she loved, making of him the monster he detested.

Brenna had told her once that Renic had nearly killed her in these very woods ... on a night such as this one. What would Roth do to her? With that thought bedeviling her, she quickened her pace. Though she was far stronger than most, he was heavier than she had first presumed, his great bulk already growing more burdensome as his bones protracted and his flesh swelled. Nevertheless, she steeled herself and bore his weight as none with twice her mettle would have, gritting her teeth as the woodland blurred around her.

Now and then, at hazard, he would point a hairy, malformed hand in whatever new direction would take them to his hellir and she perforce complied. But he no longer spoke.

Twilight had long since given way to night, and the darkness was as dense as the fog of death must surely be, but she trusted that he could see; that he knew where his lair was. Finally, he stopped her and struggled forward on his own.

"Go!" he commanded in a growl that was neither human, nor beast, but something in between.

She backed away only slightly, watching keenly as a sliver of moonlight peeked above the trees to light the thicket into which he had crawled. With foreboding in her heart she advanced, her ears catching ever sound of his struggles behind the curtain of vines and foliage.

The leafy drapes rustled gently as she moved them aside to reveal what was hidden behind them, her determination overcoming her trepidation. A narrowed aperture stood carved into the blackened rock, the lichen almost dark red in the night, like spatters of blood at the opening.

Gods! How had he squeezed through there?! Had they not arrived with seconds to spare, veritably, he would not have! Deep within the bowels of the cave she could hear ... such echoes as to still her heart with horror. They were enough that she backed away instantly and scurried back whence she came, the stars guiding her home.