Shield Maiden Read online

  Chapter Eleven - Barrow

  The following morning was grey and a cold wind blew across the top of the fort. Gurthrunn gave them each some bread to break their fast and when they had eaten they prepared to depart.

  “Do you want to carry the horn, Gurthrunn?” Anna asked the dwarf as they followed the path back down to the forest below. She reached for the horn at her belt and held it out to him.

  Gurthrunn shook his head. “Not until I am ready to pass through the door and cross Bifrost. The artefacts are relatively dormant in the hands of mortal men - unless in the case of the horn you were to blow it, of course - but we dwarves have magic in our very bones. If I was to touch it, it would awaken and Kendra would feel that from afar. It would be best not to give her warning of where we are. You carry it and keep it safe.”

  Anna nodded and tucked the treasure away, then a thought occurred to her. “Will it not already be awakened? When I blew it I mean?”

  “Certainly Kendra will have felt that moment. It is what drew her to your village. But to wake fully, each of the treasures must first join with the person who uses it and choose him or her to be its wielder. Then at the will of the bearer the full powers of the treasure are awoken.”

  ‘Chosen’ - the word came back to Anna like an echo of the first time she had heard it. “Gurthrunn, when I blew the horn it said - leastways I think it said - the word ‘chosen.’”

  The dwarf halted and turned to stare at her, “Really?”

  “Yes, we all heard it. Sorry, we forgot to mention it. Was it important?”

  “You could say that,” Gurthrunn chuckled. “I will have to ponder this a while. Come, let us press on.”

  Wanting to avoid the village as much as possible, the route Gurthrunn took led them first north through the woods towards Watling Street. Throughout the morning they were able to keep under cover of the trees and saw no sign of raven or svartálfar. When they had been walking for quite a while, Anna noticed that Raedann and Gurthrunn were speaking quietly together as they wandered along side by side. Curious, she drifted closer, hoping to overhear what they were saying, but whatever it was, they had stopped by the time she was near enough to hear.

  They broke their journey at the edge of the forest and ate some cheese and smoked meats that Gurthrunn had brought from his hut. The dwarf then left them to finish their food and scouted ahead on the planned route for the afternoon. While he was gone, Anna caught a movement in the corner of her vision. Glancing up she was just quick enough to see the shape of a large, black-feathered bird flapping away from its perch at the top of a nearby beech tree and vanishing into the sky. It gave her a creepy feeling and she was about to mention it, when she became aware that Lar and Raedann were peering at her with evident curiosity as they sat chatting quietly on the other side of the little dell. She knew they were talking about her.

  “What is it?” she asked, forgetting the bird, her patience at being stared at finally running out.

  “Nothing,” Lar answered a bit too quickly and she knew her brother was lying. She gave him a long stare. He stared back for a moment then blushed and looked away. “It’s been two years since Ma died,” he mumbled, “but when you glare at me like that you remind me of her.”

  “Yes, I know,” she replied sadly. “Just like me, she could tell when you were lying, Lar Nerianson, so go on - tell me what you were talking about and why you were staring at me.”

  Lar sighed. “The horn. Raedann and I were just saying that it is a shame we have to send it away - that’s all.”

  “Oh, I suppose you would rather sell it then?”

  “Of course we would rather sell it. Have you looked at it? Worth a lot that is; more than you imagine, I would say. We could be rich!”

  “I don’t think Gurthrunn would take well to you selling Heimdall’s horn,” Wilburh muttered. “I expect the gods would also react badly to such a trade.”

  Anna was about to agree with Wilburh, a hot retort on her lips directed at Lar, but at that moment Gurthrunn returned through the thicket to the east of the dell. Glancing round at the suddenly silent party, he raised a warty eyebrow and then just barked out an order in his gruff voice. “Come, the land is clear. We can reach the barrow by mid-afternoon if we go quickly.”

  As they left the woodlands behind, and passed into the open north of Scenestane, the grey skies that had loomed overhead all morning grew blacker and the wind picked up. Soon afterwards it started raining. Although gentle at first, the rain became increasingly heavy and by the time they crossed the Roman road a couple of miles north of the villa, it was torrential. Soaked to the skin, they pressed on across the fields, which were now becoming a quagmire. Their feet sank into the soft, wet ground and lumps of thick mud clung to the girls’ and Raedann’s sandals, the boys’ shoes and Gurthrunn’s boots, making them heavier and heavier.

  “Blast the weather!” Raedann muttered. “Just our luck that it should choose today to change to rain.”

  Gurthrunn grunted. “If it is luck,” he commented.

  “What do you mean?” Anna asked.

  “I mean this mud is slowing us down. I would not put it past Kendra to use some sorcery to manipulate the weather. Valkyries can influence the winds and the Brisingamen would enhance any powers the wearer had. “

  “How does she know where we are though?” Wilburh asked.

  “Er ... I think I saw a bird when we stopped to eat. I’m not sure, but it might have been a raven,” Anna said, suddenly recalling the bird. “I meant to mention it, but ...” her voice trailed away and she scowled at Lar.

  “Well, if you did see one, Kendra might be tracking us. Come, we must press on, we are only a mile away,” Gurthrunn ordered.

  As they walked on, the rain became lighter and soon stopped completely. The afternoon sun broke through the cover of clouds and for the first time since setting off that morning they felt its warmth on their backs.

  “Praise the gods for that!” Lar commented.

  “Don’t be so pleased. Look!” Ellette shouted.

  They all glanced in the direction she was pointing. A small stand of oak trees grew out of a mound in the ground away to the south. At first they could not see what was bothering her and Ellette, whose eyes were sharpest, pointed again at the very top of one of the trees. Perched there, watching them with its head cocked to one side, was a single, large raven. It opened its beak, crowed at them and then, with a flap of wings, was aloft and soaring away.

  Despite the welcome warmth of the sun, Anna shivered, “How far now, Gurthrunn?”

  “Not far - look now,” he pointed, “you can just see the barrow not far from Watling Street.”

  They hurried on towards the mound that was visible a few hundred paces away. It stood in the middle of a wide expanse of short grass between two stretches of woodland. As they came closer they could see that the mound, which was about seventy paces long and thirty wide, was covered in the same short grass. The end they were approaching was the one with the door. Cut into the mound at this end was a narrow channel leading to a stone archway, but this was blocked in the centre by a huge stone slab, which sealed the way inside. From a distance Anna could make out the lines of runes etched into the stonework of the archway. The children scurried along behind Gurthrunn across the last stretch of grassland before the tomb.

  “Look there!” Ellette shouted, pointing at the doorway. Above it, talons wrapped around the lintel, was the raven.

  “We must hurry,” the dwarf shouted, “she will be coming!” None of the children felt the need to ask to which ‘she’ Gurthrunn referred.

  “Drive it away!” he ordered and Ellette, quick to pull out her sling, whirled it around her head and flung a stone at the bird. The stone clattered into the lintel between the raven’s feet. Startled, the creature screeched and launched itself into flight, swinging low over their heads and then wheeling away.

  The dwarf grunted his approval and then stomped over to the doorway. He studied it for a mo
ment then placed one hand on each of the upright stones that supported the lintel, one on either side of the doorway. His eyes now closed, he began to mutter an incantation - a spell.

  Anna did not recognise the words; they were not English, nor Welsh, which she had heard occasionally from traders visiting the village, but some other language. Perhaps it was Dweorgar. The sound was like thunder rumbling towards you from a distant storm, or the hoofbeats of a horse galloping down a road. Hearing it, Anna felt as if the earth was moving beneath her feet, as if the words could force stone and soil to obey them. Yet, after a moment Gurthrunn stepped back and shook his head.

  “Normally we dwarves can open Bifrost, for we helped to construct it with our blood and sweat. I thought therefore to give it a try, but it is no good, this gateway is firmly shut. I will need the horn to persuade it to yield to my command.” Turning to Anna, he held out is hand, “Anna, pl ....”

  He was interrupted by a sudden shout of rage coming from the nearby woods. Anna thought at first it was the bird, but when she looked up she saw that gathered under the trees was the entire adult population of the village: thirty people, each armed with a weapon. Some carried spears and axes, some only a short sword - a seax like Anna’s own. Others clutched tools: the billhooks, picks and shovels they used around the village. Dotted amongst the villagers were the dark elves that had battled with Anna and her companions the previous day.

  The elves and humans just stood there watching the children, then they moved apart and suddenly Kendra was standing in the midst of them.

  The sorceress walked forward to confront Gurthrunn. “Dweorg, this is not your world,” she hissed.

  “Neither is it yours, traitor, but I at least am here at the bidding of the gods.”

  “The gods are weak and will fall. My master will rule and I will be his queen.”

  Gurthrunn grunted. “Ah, so that is what he promised you to persuade you to betray them. I wonder how many others he has promised the same or similar. Loki, the trickster god: do you really trust him?”

  “Give me the horn!” Kendra yelled, ignoring the question.

  “Never!”

  Kendra’s face twisted into a mask of rage. She nodded her head as if a decision had been made. “Very well, then. You shall die and these children along with you.” Pointing her long finger at Anna and her friends she shouted back to the villagers.

  “Attack them!”