Muus jumped after him. The hole was deeper than he had expected. A smooth tunnel of ice, which carried them diagonally down through the dark. Someone screamed and he wasn't sure if it was Kjelle, or himself. After an endless time came a sharp left turn and then they plunged into nothingness. It was not deep, where they fell, six feet at most, and they ended up in a painful heap of arms and legs on a rocky surface.
'Muus.'
'Get your fingers out of my face, you cack-handed clod,' cried Muus and his voice echoed in the cave: lod... lod... lod...
'I can't see.' Kjelle almost screamed. 'We're dead.'
'Shut up.' Muus kicked in Kjelle's direction. He felt his foot make contact and the wailing broke off. 'Be still and let me think.' He stood up and tried to orient himself. The darkness was oppressive in its intensity. Around him was the mountain. All that rock over his head, how could such a tunnel exist without collapsing? He heard something shifting somewhere and his heart began to pound.
Beside him, Kjelle's sob broke the tension. The Holderling's fear stank of sweat. 'Where is Sun?'
'Huh?' Muus looked in the direction of Kjelle's voice, but in the absolute dark not even a silhouette was visible.
'In the Long Night, she hides in the earth,' said the young lord absently. 'But where then is her light?'
Muus sniffed. 'The earth is large. She could be anywhere.' He thought a moment. 'Besides, that chariot of hers wouldn't fit into this tunnel. The svartalves will have built a beautiful hall for it somewhere.'
There was silence.
'Muus, Godsdammer. You give light.' Kjelle's voice was high and breathless, as if he was only just skirting hysteria.
Yet he was right. Muus saw a faint blue glow grow around him. The stone on his chest felt warm, as warm as when he had picked it up on the pasture. He opened the pouch around his neck and squinted against the blue glow that radiated out. 'It's not me. It is the stone. '
'What!' Kjelle's voice echoed against the walls. 'Have you brought that damned thing? Thor! That stone is the cause of everything. Throw it away.'
'Nonsense,' said Muus. 'You didn't have to touch it. The stone is mine. When I hold it, nothing happens.'
'It's dangerous.'
'And it lights our way, so we can see where we're walking. Well, shall we go or is there something you must do here?'
Kjelle brought his head close to that of Muus. In the stone's light, his face contorted with rage. He waved white-knuckled fists under Muus' nose. 'You ... you ...'
The young slave braced himself, but it wasn't necessary. Kjelle's facial muscles slacked, the fire in his eyes died and his shoulders slumped. He gave a dull nod. 'We go.'
With a slight shiver, Muus walked on. The tunnel walls around them were smooth and dripping with moisture. The blue glow of the stone reflected in drops and puddles, so they seemed to move along the bottom of a river. Stone teeth grew up and down and everywhere was the sound of water.
'Why?' said Kjelle after a long silence. His voice was flat, emotionless.
Muus did not have to ask what he meant. 'What do you think? Because you're the stupid son of a drunken duck, perhaps?'
Kjelle stopped and peered sideways at Muus. 'How could I know that a small stone like that would cause an avalanche?'
Muus blew his nose in his fingers. 'You couldn't. You should've kept your greedy paws to yourself.' He muttered a curse when a cold trickle landed between his eyes. 'You Nords always want to have everything. Stinking thieves you are, every one of you.' He thought of the round huts of his village. Murderers and abductors of children. A choking sound made him look aside. Kjelle's face, deadly blue in the light of the stone, was twisted with fear and anger battling in him for dominance.
'I'm your master. You should have obeyed.'
'The stone didn't think so. He rejected you, Nord.'
'But why? Who sent that stone? The svartalves? They hate us, they're deceitful creatures.'
Muus shrugged. 'I don't know anything about svartalves.'
'You look like them, slave.' Kjelle's voice was vicious. 'Small, black haired and mean.'
'I should've left you on the plateau, stupid Nord,' said Muus unperturbed. He was amazed that Kjelle's words didn't touch him anymore. 'Maybe your Gods would've saved you.' He looked at Kjelle. 'Probably not. You're not man enough for them, Kjelle Almansen.' After this insult, he moved his hand toward the grip of his sword, but it wasn't necessary. Kjelle only shook his head, too deep in his misery to be angry.
'Why did that stone come? To punish me? To ... to test me? A test ... and I failed.'
'By the Gods, man, do you really think a stone falls from the sky to test you? Are you that important? Don't be daft. You wanted something that wasn't meant for you. Because of your stupidity, many people died. That's your fault. What will you do now?'
The fear in Kjelle's face was so great that Muus looked away. 'Let's go. Talking won't solve anything. The answer lies with the Gods. Yours or mine.'
The loud sound around them was their breathing, pierced by the plink, plink of the droplets that escaped from the rock over their heads. The thin layer of water on the floor of the tunnel muffled their footsteps and there was near-complete silence.
'Your Gods?' said Kjelle after a while. 'Who are they?'
'I ... do not know.' Muus recalled the images from his dreams; the round huts on the riverbank and the faceless people. 'My memories begin when I arrived at Eidungruve. Hagen brought me. He had a gray horse, and he talked to me. I couldn't understand him, but his voice sounded ... not threatening. Funny, I remember all that so well. But who my parents were? No idea. Nor do I care, that's all gone now. The Hold was my home, even though I hated it.'
Again, there was silence.
'I hated you from the moment you arrived,' said Kjelle from the twilight. 'Your pose, your pride; the way you looked at me. You, my own slave, laughed at me. Always you worked against me, made me look ridiculous. Me, the Holderling. With your hypocritical politeness: yes, master; no, master, and you laughing behind my back. I should have beaten you to death.'
'You've beaten me enough.'
'Not enough,' said Kjelle in a near-whisper. 'You're still alive.'
Muus shook his head. 'If you did not want me, why did I have to accompany you everywhere?'
'You had to. I ...' Kjelle fell silent.
All at once, it dawned on Muus. 'You needed me to feel brave.'
'Shut up,' said Kjelle in a tone that sent Muus for his sword. The sound of the blade along the sheath had them both stepping backward. Without speaking, they went forward.
The dark path made Muus imagine rows of alves with pickaxes, tunneling through the rock. Skinny black creatures, ugly and crooked by their life underground. He shuddered. As in a bad dream, he walked on.
A ripping sound followed by a shrill scream shocked Muus out of his thoughts. He looked up just in time to see his companion disappear into the ground. Somehow, a crack had opened in the floor beneath his feet and swallowed him.
On his knees, Muus crawled towards the edge of crevice. The screaming and sobbing told him Kjelle was still alive. 'You're all right?'
A stream of unintelligible words answered him. The young Nord was stuck some six feet below him. Wild-eyed, he looked up at Muus. 'Get me out of here.'
'Easy now, breathe deeply. Recount the names of all your ancestors.'
'My ancestors? Kjelle, son of Alman, son of Hralf, son of Rognar... Argh, what's that for?'
'It helps you not to panic,' said Muus calmly. 'Can you stand?'
Kjelle shook his head. 'Bottom's too narrow.'
Muus lay flat on his belly and reached down with Hagen's sword. Hang the bag on the cross-guard.' Hand over hand he pulled the weapon back up, until he could swing the backpack down beside him. 'Well,' said he. 'At least we've got that.'
'You're not leaving me?'
Muus said nothing. A voice inside him whispered, This is your chance. Let him rot. He pulled off his coat, Hagen's heavy snow wolf coat. From sleeve to sleeve, it would be just long enough.
'Muus!' Panic rang in Kjelle's voice. 'Are you there?'
'Sure,' said Muus curtly. 'I wouldn't kill you this way.'
A second sound of tearing rock rent the air and Kjelle screamed. 'I can't hold on!'
'Quickly,' Muus hung the coat over the edge and grabbed one of the sleeves with both hands, while he gripped a nearby dripstone with his legs. 'Try to climb up; I can't pull you out on my own. And make sure you don't tear my coat or I will murder you.'
Gibbering with fear, Kjelle worked his way up. The rough wall of the crevasse scraped the skin from his hands and knees, while a sweating Muus pulled his coat up hand over hand. At last, Kjelle managed to place his elbows on the edge. Muus grabbed the back of Kjelle's waistband and with their combined strength the Holderling heaved himself back onto the floor of the tunnel.
Kjelle looked at Muus without speaking. His bloodied face was twisted in a mask of horror so intense that Muus got goose bumps. 'Let's get away from here.'
Quivering all over, the Holderling picked up the backpack.
They walked for another hour, when Kjelle abruptly stopped. 'I can't go on,' said he, with tears streaming down his face.
Muus sighed. He'd been working hard all day, logging trees. After that, he had to climb that bleeding mountain path and now this tunnel. He was tired, but he could've kept walking. He wanted to be free of this tunnel more than anything, but it was clear Kjelle was suffering from shock.
'Let's try to sleep,' said Muus, nodding to one of the many nooks in the rock wall.
Moving like a draug, Kjelle stumbled to the small recess and dropped. Muus sat beside him, listening to the snores of his companion. Gods, I wanted to escape Eidungruve. But did it have to be this way? Then he curled up against Kjelle and, back to back, they slept.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Muus woke, cold and hungry. Kjelle sat staring at him; his face a death mask and his movements stiff.
'Ready to go?' asked Muus, looking away from the intense misery in Kjelle's face..
Without a word, Kjelle picked up the backpack and started to walk.
Time passed immeasurably slow in that tunnel. How long had they walked? Hours? A day? More?
Suddenly Kjelle spoke. 'It is getting colder.'
Muus looked up. The moisture on the tunnel wall was frozen and icicles had taken the place of the dripstones.
'Light!' In a feverish excitement, the Holderling hurried forward. Far away was a narrow strip of what looked like daylight. He started to run.
'Watch out,' said Muus. 'It's ...' but it was too late. A thin layer of ice had formed on the ground and Kjelle crashed down. '... slippery.'
Kjelle stared at him, livid. Then he rose and went on slowly to the light.
Here, the tunnel ended. The opening they had hoped for proved to be a fissure in the rock through which a pale glimmer shone.
'O cursed Loki's Trick, it's frozen shut.' Kjelle pounded his fist on the ice, through which the treacherous light from the outside world beckoned them. 'Rock solid,' said he with tears in his eyes.
'We have knives,' said Muus. 'We can hack a way out.'
Kjelle licked his bleeding lip and nodded. He crouched down at the fissure with his hunting knife and started on the ice. The layer was thick, the two young men tired and cold. They had to take turns working, so it was a long time before their bleeding hands had hacked away enough ice to wriggle through the opening. For once Muus was thankful for his diminutive stature, as he slipped like a small, black-haired, fox through the hole. Kjelle's massive body couldn't follow, however much he squirmed and groaned.
'Take off your clothes,' said Muus. 'They make you fat.'
Kjelle snarled something that was unintelligible, but he obeyed. Naked, he managed to squeeze himself through the opening.
'Is this the other end of the tunnel?' said he, as he put his shirt and his hairy coat back on over the bloody scratches on his body.
Muus looked around. 'We're in an ice cave,' said he. 'There won't be any ice inside a mountain. This must be the glacier from Garn's tales. Maybe he wasn't such a fantast after all.'
'Then we're nearly out of here?'
Muus grimaced. 'I hope so. At least there weren't any monsters.' He stepped forward. 'There's an opening.' A narrow corridor led to a second, smaller space.
'Wait,' said Kjelle and his voice trembled. The second cave was littered with gnawed remains of animals, most of them frozen. 'Those dead rabbits are still fresh.'
Then they saw a triangular head with two wide-open eyes staring at them.
'Snow wolf.' whispered Kjelle.
'Freya's Blood.' Without hesitation, Muus drew his sword. He knew which end was up, that was about all.
Kjelle looked at him, deadly pale. 'What now?' His lips quivered. At that moment the wolf sprang.
Muus yelled. The snow wolf hesitated in midair and that broke his pounce. Reflexively the young slave struck and he felt the sword slide deep under the animal's ribs. Man and beast fell and a puddle of blood formed on the icy soil. The smell of wet dog filled Muus' nostrils. He pushed against the hairy corpse. 'It didn't touch me. Thank the Gods.' He stood up and pulled his sword from the body of the beast.
'It's dead.' Kjelle looked bewildered from the dead wolf to Muus. 'It's really dead.'
'They won't come deader,' said Muus with a grimace of pure relief. Then he stooped and cut off the wolf's silver-white tail. For a moment, he stood with it in his hands, and then he pulled it through the belt around his waist. 'My thanks to you, Fenrisson Snow Wolf, for your gift.'
On Kjelle's face, disbelief and anger fought for supremacy. 'I didn't know you could handle a sword.'
Muus shrugged. 'Let's go.'
'We need food,' said Kjelle.
'Snow wolf?' Muus' gaze went to the dead wolf. It looked tough.
The Holderling stared at him. 'You're no hunter. Wolves are carnivores; their meat won't feed us. Deer, rabbit, everything that lives off plants and roots is edible.'
'I'm not a hunter,' admitted Muus. 'Give a thrall a bow and arrow? Your father wouldn't dare.' He walked to the exit of the cave. 'Let's find a rabbit. It's your turn to kill a monster, Holderling.'
Kjelle grimaced, but said he nothing.
The crack in the ice was about ten yards long, but only snow wolf-wide and Kjelle took off his clothes again. Wriggling and cursing mightily, he too came through and side by side, they stood in the familiar semi-darkness of the Long Night.
Kjelle, oblivious to the snowflakes collecting on his bare chest, looked around. Nearby, a dark river ran past, against a backdrop of woodlands. 'The Jerna.' His voice was full of disbelief. 'We made it.'
Muus nodded. Freedom at last. He wanted to laugh, cry, but all at once he was too tired.