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by creatures of the Barrens troubled the region, easily handled by the doughty warriors and inhabitants of Hedmark. No mercenary would be foolish enough to accept a commission for a hunt into the accursed lands. As I mentioned, the inhabitants of this area are hardy folk, which in turn means any job offer would be the death of any professional mercenary group,” replied the ranger.

“I believe I can answer that, sire,” spoke Tyndur. “You see, this land was not originally part of Skaney. It took a long time and uncounted lives before the warriors of Skaney were able to beat back the monsters and other creatures infesting the place. If memory serves me right, this area was a favorite haunt of the sons of Fenrir – Skoll and Hati. Though the shapeshifters we encountered were mainly werewolves and bears. At first, we thought they were rogue ĂšlfhĂ©Ă°nar or Svinfylking practitioners, but we found such opponents to be exactly what they appeared to be. Damned nuisances.”

“I am not familiar with the terms ĂšlfhĂ©Ă°nar and Svinfylking, Tyndur. Care to explain?” asked the mage.

“ÚlfhĂ©Ă°nar refers to wolf-men but is also a term used to refer to the berserkr. Svinfylking means boar-warrior, followers of the god Freyr and the goddess Freyja. Likes battle-boars, those two. Rogue half-beasts do exist. Half-mad too,” explained the einherjar, clearly experienced in the subject.

“Thanks. Was the effort done through individual jarls or by High King?” inquired Tyler, curious about the extent of the High King’s authority.

“Individual lordly buffoons at first. Then when a sizable army of one of the jarls was lost, the High King called a ting at Hirdburg, his capital. Well, he should be concerned. His city was directly in the path of any massive incursion.”

“What’s a ting?” asked Tyler.

“A lords’ assembly. They recognized the danger of allowing such a wide border to face the Barrens, the defense line being from Barholm down to Stenhus, a vast distance to defend. Then began concerted efforts to push back the infested area, many warriors’ lives were sacrificed in a campaign across many years. Armies were decimated, expeditions lost, initial settlements razed to the ground, settlers massacred. It was a costly period for Skaney; people still remember the enormous cost and effort to secure this region,” said Tyndur, softly adding, “I know too. What I recall tells me I fought here. Desperate battles, not against men.”

Then he glanced at the three listeners who were clearly interested in what he was narrating. The speaker grinned at his companions.

“I had my fill of fighting during that time, that’s for sure. Don’t ask me about what we fought, that part appears quite vague in my recollections. Rest assured we got used to facing fangs, claws, and magic. But we won. Though I am not certain if I met my death here or somewhere else,” continued the einherjar who suddenly shook his head vigorously.

“Stupid memory flashes. All that comes is a sense of confused fighting against crawling, running, and… some flying beasties too. Wait. More blasted unclear memories,” said Tyndur who had stopped and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Then he looked at his companions.

“I believe I died here,” said the warrior softly.

At those words, the other companions didn’t know what to say. It took a few seconds, but Tyler then walked forward and slapped the einherjar on the shoulder.

“I have a feeling you’ll get your chance to kill them all over again. Let’s see if we can find the one who killed you. You’ve improved beyond what you were before and now have that arsonist’s axe into the bargain.”

The einherjar chortled loudly.

“I think it was a big red drake. One of the wild ones from the Dreki Mountains,” replied Tyndur.

“It could still be alive, you know. They’re almost immortal, being magical creatures,” observed the mage.

“I sure hope so, but I remember it had a frosty breath. That’s what got me. Being red, I thought I was going to face fire.”

“Aren’t they supposed to range in the south? Deeper in that cluster of mountains?” asked Habrok.

“Not in those days. There was a lot of prey here then. It attracted predators of all kinds. Not that the creatures here were always the meal. Barren creatures were usually bigger and more ferocious,” came the explanation.

“And some are back from the dead. At least those which didn’t get eaten, bones and all,” remarked the ranger. “I should get myself the appropriate weapon. My longsword, even with its enhanced ability, seems more appropriate for cleaning their fangs after a meal.”

Chapter Fourteen

A Dipshit of a Day

Freyja spake:

31. “False is thy tongue, | and soon shalt thou find

That it sings thee an evil song;

The gods are wroth, | and the goddesses all,

And in grief shalt thou homeward go.”

Loki spake:

32. “Be silent, Freyja! | thou foulest witch,

And steeped full sore in sin;

In the arms of thy brother | the bright gods caught thee

When Freyja her wind set free.”

Tyler watched with apprehension as Habrok approached him at speed.

Bad news. The unbidden insight arose in his mind.

The group was hidden on top of a rise several feet from what Tyndur mentioned as the beginning of the flat area of Hedmark. The stone-paved road leading to the town would be visible the moment they started moving down the escarpment; there were thick shrubs and clumps of trees along the way but nothing which would prove to be a problem. Cultivated fields would also begin to be a common and welcome sight, the einherjar told the company. Unfortunately, now it seemed the ranger had seen some complication waiting for them.

“What is it?” he asked Habrok. Tyndur and Kobu were listening close by.

“Two undead drakes, sire. Make that two large skeletal drakes. They’re on the road. And right now, they’re just below us,” reported the man.

“Why can’t they go bother some other stretch of the road?” blurted the exasperated mage.

“This part of the road does connect with the hunting trail we used,” said Kobu.

“The thick woods

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