The Einherjar

Chapter 4- A Hopeless Siege

The Valkyrie's eyes opened slowly to reveal rotted wooden rafters, which looked as if they held the roof aloft by luck alone. Had she the energy, Brynhild might have leapt up from the bed, but in her condition, all she could manage was to gradually sit up straight. That blast of her Aurora, that brilliant dance of light, had been the extent of her seid and expelling that, her body fell into slumber. As she sat up and felt the strain and strife in her muscles, Brynhild nearly wept. This entire expedition had been one terrible failure after another. She was certain at this point, that if she were somehow to survive the coming melee and return to Asgard, she would have her command stripped from her due to general incompetence. Before she could linger too long on these depressing thoughts, Williwulf entered the room and gave a short bow.

"In any other circumstance, I would recommend that you rest," Wulf began wearily. "However, it is nearly night, and that Sigmare fellow insists that we must flee." Brynhild's eyes shot open as the memory of their circumstances returned. The shieldmaiden frantically looked about in all directions, hoping to her gods that Alarick had not succumbed to his wounds. Williwulf, sensing this was the case, wasted no time in addressing it. "Alarick is resting as well, though he is badly wounded." Brynhild's eyes dropped to the floor, and her chest heaved a heavy mixture of misery and relief. "Let's let him be for now. For the moment, let us go and see the men. It will do them well to see that you are now mobile again." On shaky legs, Brynhild the Valkyrie stood from her bed.

Once she was ready, Wulf led the shieldmaiden back onto the battlements. Most of the men including Gondul had gathered there, and presently the company kept a keen eye beyond the wall. When Brynhild looked down from the battlements, she was hard-pressed to find that untold legions of the dead had surrounded their position. Once more, the corpses were all in various stages of decay, from the recently deceased, heavy with bloat, or the long dead, who were all but skeletons now. On all sides, in every direction, there was naught to be seen, save for corpses and trees. As the Valkyrie looked back toward her men, she noticed Sigmare, the old mystic, stood silently observing them.

"Allow me to apologize, my lady," The greybeard said in a cautious tone. "I am afraid that this misery that befalls us now, is almost entirely my doing." Brynhild glared at Sigmare unable to believe that a mere mortal could achieve this level of mastery in the dark arts. Before her misunderstanding could grow any further, Sigmare elaborated. "When the draugr came for our caravan, they tore our guards to pieces within minutes. Gondul is my Queen, I am sworn to keep her safe, so I did what had to keep her safe." Brynhild was now more confused than ever. "I delved into old magic, evil magic, and I used it to set those wicked spirits to attacking one another. All save for one draugr is dead, but I fear he's taken in the essence of the others. So much so that he is no longer draugr, but lich. That would explain the abundance of reanimated dead."

"You fool," The Valkyrie spat with disgust crawling in her words. "You can use the gifts you stole from the gods to turn undead monster against undead monster, but you cannot use it to heal your Queen?" Her eyes shifted upward toward Gondul, and she gruffed. "And you, did it ever occur to you to ask him to heal you? You were still alive when I found you. If I hadn't had to raise your foolish spirit, I could have handled those beasts single-handedly!" Gondul was unaccustomed at being spoken to in such a manner and thus turned her eyes away. "The sun hangs low in the sky, and my power is far from recovered. When night comes, the lich comes with it, and believe me; these rotten walls will not keep him at bay!" Gondul lurched forward and snarled.

"I did not ask for your help!" Gondul snapped as she decided not to endure the Valkyrie's dire mood. "Alarick and Wulf convinced you to spare me!" Brynhild glared over at her newest charge with such scorn in her eyes that the Queen wilted back. "Tis not to say that I am ungrateful, but had I been able to speak, I would have protested, to let you manage the dead." Gondul's gaze met with Brynhild's for a moment or two before she turned her attention upon Sigmare. "As for the Wizard, for all the stock my husband puts in him, he was unable to do much of anything. Sigmare kept me clinging to life, but he could not save the Huskarls, or attack our foes. Though I suppose Alarick lives by his grace."