The last ten minutes had been silent beyond a few grunts and scowls as Thorodd, Varitan, Osvif and Thorve took turns reading the different reports Shael had given Einar.

“How bad are the beastkin compared to everything else we have fought?”

Varitan leaned across the table and tapped on the map that was laying in the middle.

“That is a hard one to answer, Thorodd. For the longest I would have considered them impossible as their numbers can fluctuate in the forest, but after watching how your pack has dealt with the other threats, I believe you can win. Even if a few of you die.”

Osvif scoffed and everyone turned their attention to him.

“Sorry, I just found that funny. A ‘few of us’ die as our Elven friend just said.”

“I do not mean disrespect, just that death for us is… a longer journey. While I know the pain it causes and how it weakens you, there is no way we can continue to throw my people at a threat like this.”

“He knows what you mean,” Einar stated, cutting that discussion off before it had time to potentially worsen. “We need how many more days before we are ready to go?”

“We can leave after tomorrow,” Osvif replied. “We can’t get everything we need done before then. As you know, that list wasn’t small.”

Nodding, Einar turned to Thorve, who was reading a book she had borrowed from the library in the capital.

“Anything else you can help us with?”

She shook her head as she closed the book, its leather cover looking pristine and new, even though it was over one thousand years old.

“Lyeneru was kind to help me translate some things, but nothing in their records mentions why the beastkin would act like this now. She will return before we get back with an updated report on the undead problem. Otherwise, all I can say is Freyr has tasked us with some difficult things.”

“To have met him,” Varitan muttered. “So many are jealous.”

Not wanting to go down that discussion again, Einar folded his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair.

“Then get the pack ready and make sure the rest are prepared for this trip. I don’t want to waste a single day of this boon. If possible, I would even prefer to push ourselves to get there faster if possible.”

“Even more than already?” Thorve asked. “You do realize some men trained for almost six hours straight and still felt ready for anything?”

“I do. That is why this is important,” he replied. “It is obvious that Freyr knows what he has requested of us and without this boon, I am certain these next tasks will not be easy at all. So inform the people to eat and prepare. I want to be gone before daylight in one day.”

Everyone rose and began to leave except Osvif who hung back in the meeting room.

Einar studied his friend and saw that look he came to recognize.

He is concerned and doesn’t want to share it with the others.

When the door closed behind the three, the shortest Viking moved from the bookshelf he had been studying, thumbing the leather spines as he stood there for a minute, not saying a word.

“Are you going to talk or just admire the books?”

Grunting, Osvif turned and didn’t hide the frown now.

“You realize what we are walking into is far worse than anything else we have fought?”

“I mean, besides creatures we can’t detect, cats that can almost sneak up on you in the dark and eat your heart and trolls so large they could probably destroy most walls in our realm? Yes, I understand this is worse than any of those.”

“So tell me what I missed between that private conversation with you and Freyr. What did he mean when he said some think otherwise? How many other gods have given you something you haven’t shared with me?”

Poker was a game of hiding one's expression. Many nights had been spent practicing that trait and it always felt like his friend required him to never show how he felt. As Osvif began to speak, Einar knew his friend was most likely going to ask a question and look for a reaction. His perception had improved and yet there was no doubt his short friend had a high number in that stat as well.

“There are some who wish to assist. I can’t go into details, but as you know, Freyr wasn’t the first god I have met.”

Snorting, Osvif shook his head, and a tight grin appeared.

“Everyone else was in shock. You could see it written on their faces. The questions and murmurs. Some of the most talkative didn’t say a word for hours. Not you though. You, Einar, acted like it was just a typical thing in your life. Will you tell me who else you have met with, besides Odin, of course?”

Scratching the slight stubble on his chin, the one which so much depended on weighed the question.

“Does it matter, or is it simply an acknowledgment that this has happened before, beyond what I already told you?”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Both! You’re playing with gods! Gods Einar! We are given tasks no Viking has faced in so long and you act as if this isn’t a major thing!” Osvif exclaimed. “You must understand what this is going to cause when we return to Midgard! Surely you cannot expect King Erik to allow such things to spread across our realm and not reach out to you!”

“He already has.”

Those green eyes went wide and a few seconds passed before his friend closed his jaw that had lowered a few inches.

“When?! Surely…” pausing for a few more seconds, Osvif’s eyes blinked rapidly and then a finger pointed at Einar. “That’s why it was so fast! Bior helped you to leave because the King wanted to meet with you!”

“You’re too smart for your own good. Now tell me, does any of that knowledge change what you really want to know?”

Frowning so hard, it scrunched the weathered skin on the red headed Viking’s face, that it took effort for Einar to not laugh.

“No… Answer me this, are you prepared for this game you are involved in? The King, Einar! He has power well beyond what we can hope for. If he decides to try to force your hand, can you really expect to stand against him? Even if Bior threw his lot in with you, that would…”

His friend's voice trailed off until his hand came up and slapped his forehead.

“Unnulf! That bastard! He knows as well! Those two are–”

“No more,” Einar said, cutting off his friend. “We won’t speak about these things because I don’t want to worry about you potentially lying for me. Whatever happens from this moment on, I trust the gods are with us and expect success. Why else are we receiving the boons that they have given? Tell me how many Vikings would clamber to our side if word got out about what we have received so far.”

A growl came from Osvif before he shook his head and sighed.

“All of them… if word ever got out about the healing of our slots, every Viking would come, hoping to receive such a gift.”

“And I cannot afford or manage that yet. We do not have the leadership or the things in place to deal with those numbers. Even the weapons that will be required or the armor are still beyond our grasp. That is why you and Osvif have the jobs I gave you.”

The red headed Viking nodded, his expression changing to the one where his eyes were set and his face showed now emotion.

“Those weapons will be ready when we get back,” Osvif stated. “Which means, upon returning, we will have to take on the undead.”

“Forget about those for now. Focus on the beastkin and find me everything you can about them and how they fight. You alone are my greatest weapon. The mind Odin and Loki have given you make up for your height.”

Both of them chuckled and, after a quick embrace, Einar watched as his friend left the room.

Letting the sigh out he had held in for so long, Einar moved to the table where papers and a map were still laid out.

Odin… Freyr… anyone else… This is going to be a bloodbath. Help me to protect my men.

Looking up from the table, a statue of a female elf warrior caught his eye. She had a spear and a shield, and at that moment, a twinge of loneliness struck.

Avitue… I’m coming… be ready for when I return.

***

“We camp here!” Thorodd bellowed as the caravan slowed down on the dirt road.

It had gotten harder to travel as it wasn’t kept up like the previous three days had been.

“I want double the guards tonight! No excuses, as you all know you’re not tired!”

Some chuckles came as the Vikings moved as one, helping the workers to get the wagons into position.

“Four days… you really did accomplish the impossible,” Varitan muttered. “Of course I guess since your men could jog while the horses helped pull the wagons, it allowed them to travel further without as much effort.”

“I’m not going to waste the boon your god gave us,” Einar replied. “Now then, tell me about what is before me.”

Their Elven warrior and friend nodded, sliding down from his white stallion that stood like a statue, not moving unless directed. He gave it a gentle tap and whistled, causing the horse to turn and move to the tall grass on the side of the dirt road.

Before them stood a large forest that had trees well over two hundred feet tall in every direction. Each day, the woods grew thicker and came closer to the road and soon in a few miles there would be almost no space between the dirt path and the trunks that were each ten feet or wider in diameter.

“This is as close as we get since the last attack came. After tonight we will be in the beastkin’s home. As your friend has said many times, there are a variety of them and each has a different talent and fighting style.”

A bear, wolf, puma like cat, and a fox.

“And the fox ones can cast magic?”

“Yes, but it isn’t like your magic. As you know, theirs is a forest version, so roots will come up from the ground to entangle the unsuspecting. A tree might seem to move and branches might become like arms. Worse are the forms of nuts that explode upon being sent from above, causing burns and other wounds on one's body.”

“And they can heal the other beastkins.”

“They can.”

Sighing, Einar studied the forest and could feel the darkness within. He had no doubt there was someone or something deep inside watching them, already aware of their presence.

“How far is the actual main town, as you called it?”

“The den? Usually at least a day and a half, but with how you and your men are moving, perhaps you could make it in one. Still, there would be a lot of fighting. Do not forget, they have hundreds of their kind scattered in this forest.”

Unable to stop himself, Einar realized he was chewing his lip after the slight taste of blood hit his tongue.

“Then tomorrow morning at first light, I want to get moving. We’ll leave the guards you brought with my people, and the rest of us will venture into the woods. Can we borrow a few bows?”

“They are yours to use,” Varitan replied, snapping his finger at an elf who was twenty yards away, waiting for instructions. He spoke in elvish and the man nodded, moving to the rest of the elvish group that had joined them.

“I will make sure you have as many arrows as they are willing to spare. Now tell me, what is your plan?”

“Tomorrow we’ll move as a group. Just the thirteen of us, all covered in the blood of the shadow walkers.”

Varitan’s nose scrunched up and the elf looked like he was going to complain, but said nothing.

“Hopefully that will allow us to get closer and remain undetected as long as possible. The only problem is I’m running out of it. Had I known we would use it so much, I might have been a little more cautious in trading away some of it.”

“Are you wanting to purchase it back?”

Shaking his head, Einar watched as Skardi and Thorodd moved through the crowd toward him.

He chuckled, seeing how much they towered over the rest, their large shoulders acting like a wall as the pair moved side by side.

“Hold your thought,” he said as he pointed at the pair. “The way Skardi is frowning means something isn’t good.”