The woods were quiet. Quiet and empty.
Leif and his companions trudged through the trees, cold and hungry. It had been almost a week since the ten had left the others at the settlement and ventured inland to explore. They had set out with minimal supplies intending to hunt for food as they journeyed but had yet to see a single living creature. No deer, no boar, not even birds. The strange shores seemed to be devoid of life. Fortunately, the warriors had come across fields of wheat as well as an abundance of wild grapes which would be useful for the settlement. Without the grapes, they would have run out of food days before.
"We should turn around and go back to the others. This land is cursed. There is more life to be found on the shores of Niflheim," one of the men - a short, grizzled warrior named Valbrand – grumbled as he clambered up a steep slope, his pack and weapons clanging as he moved.
One of the others, whose long beard was the colour of fire, scooped up a rock and threw it at his companion, bouncing it off the fur cloak he wore to keep out the bitter cold. "Will you stop your bellyaching Valbrand? Six days you've been complaining. Why did you even come?"
Valbrand reached the top of the hill and leaned against a tree, waiting for the others. "Because, Hallvard, I thought there would be better eating. All they had back at the ship was fish. I was sick of it. I wanted red meat. Now I'd give anything for some fish. I never want to see a grape again."
A hand reached out and Valbrand helped another of the explorers up the last few steps. "No more wine for you then?" The young warrior – barely more than a boy - grinned through his patchy attempt at a beard and collapsed against Valbrand's tree. "Did you hear that? Valbrand is off his wine!"
"More for the rest of us!" came a cry from down the slope which raised cheers from the rest.
Valbrand shook his head vigorously, "Wine doesn't count, Hallgrim. You can't see the grapes."
Another pair of Norsemen reached the top of the incline helped by Hallgrim and Valbrand. Soon all ten of the explorers sat atop the hill, slumped against the trees as they caught their breath.
Hallvard unfastened his pack and dug around inside for a moment. "Anyone want a grape?" he asked grinning as he pulled a small sack out of his bag. "Valbrand?" He flicked one of the small purple pieces of fruit across at his friend.
"Unless you want me to stick my axe in your skull, keep those cursed things away from me," Valbrand growled as he kicked the grape away.
"Stop it, both of you. Valbrand, stop complaining or you can go without food for a few days until you appreciate it more. And Hallvard, stop wasting the supplies or you can join him."
The pair stopped bickering and looked sheepish.
Leif Erikson, whose hair and beard was the colour of gold, climbed to his feet. "My father wouldn't turn back so neither will I. Let's get moving before the light leaves us."
Obeying their captain, the men climbed to their feet slinging their heavy packs onto their back. Hallgrim, ever eager, was the first to his feet.
"We'll travel west until nightfall and then make camp," Leif commanded. "Hallgrim, Hallvard, lead the way. Thorred, Halfdan, bring up the rear."
Continuing on their way, the group weaved their way through the trees, clambering over fallen trunks and skirting around boulders until they came upon a clearing surrounded by towering pines. Scattered around the clearing were the first signs of life they had encountered in the new land.
Leif and his crew had made land twice before finally finding the perfect spot for their new settlement. The first location, a place Leif had named Helluland, had been desolate and rocky with long beaches and cliffs that barred most of their attempts to journey in from the coast. When they had finally found a break in the cliffs and explored inland, they had found something unsettling: evidence of hastily abandoned camps, signs of battle and masses of blood dried on the rocky ground. They had searched around but found no sign of the bodies nor any sign of the living. And, as with everywhere else on the continent, no sign of any animal life.
Returning to the ship, Leif and his crew had sailed north for several days before trying once again to land. This time the land, named Markland, was heavily forested. Hoping to fill their stores hunting game, the crew hand ventured into the trees but had no luck. Still they could find nothing, living or dead. Giving up, the Norsemen had journeyed back to the ship but had come across more deserted camps and more blood stains. Worried by the carnage, the warriors had hurried back to the ship and quickly cast off.
Two days later, having sailed further north, they discovered a natural cove and, casting their nets, found the sea rich with fish. Supply situation desperate, Leif and the crew made landfall and began establishing a settlement – somewhere to weather the approaching winter.
Now, far from friends and family and home, Leif and his expedition found proof there was life in strange land they had discovered. They found a massacre.
Lying dead in the clearing were a trio of men wrapped in fur and covered in gore. Around the bodies, blood pooled, some of it still damp, staining the snow and splattered over piles of abandoned supplies.
"Weapons ready and eyes on the treeline," Leif drew his sword and advanced slowly on the bodies. Behind him, the others in the party drew out a collection of swords, axes and bows, and spread out to search the area, eyes alert for threats.
"There's too much blood for it all to be from these three. Others died here. A lot of them," Hallvard commented as he prodded a pile of furs with his sword. "Where are the rest?"
Reaching the corpses, Leif bent low to examine them. "These aren't the wounds of someone who died in battle," he pointed at the neck of one of the figures, "They were torn apart and these look like teeth marks."
"What could do all this?" Ulfrik asked as he lowered his bow and stepped up beside Leif.
"Demons," Valbrand growled peering into the trees searching for enemies. "This is an ill omen. We should return to the others. Now!"
"Demons?" The blood fled Hallgrim's face.
"It's not demons. Stop scaring Hallgrim." Hallvard turned to face Leif, "Maybe we should turn back though. This blood is still fresh and whatever did do this might still be close."
Leif straightened back up, glancing up at the darkening sky, and nodded. "We'll fall back to the hill and make camp there for the night. The boulders should shield us from the wind and in the morning," he glanced across at Valbrand, "we'll start back to the ship."
The others nodded and began to head back into the trees. Hallgrim paused, "Shouldn't we do something about the bodies?"
A few steps ahead, Leif stopped and replied, voice full of regret, "We haven't time. It will be dark soon. Their people will find them eventually and give them a proper burial."
As they retreated through the woods, the ten men made good time. They walked in silence, weapons held tight in their hands and eyes alert for any sign of movement. Atop of the slope – night falling around them - Ulfrik, Thrand and Thorred raised their bows and covered their companions as they descended before finally making their way down the slope themselves. By the time the three archers reached the bottom of the incline, Leif and the others had already begun to set up camp. Emerging from the trees, a bundle of branches in his arms, Hallgrim began setting a fire where the boulders would shelter it from the wind. Hallvard pulled the sack of grapes from his pack and passed it around the group. Everyone, even Valbrand, took their share. Eventually the fire was lit, holding the dark at bay, and the Norsemen sat in a circle around it.
"We should keep a lookout tonight," Thrand suggested as he wiped grape juice from his chin. There was a chorus of agreement from the warriors.
"I'll take first watch," Leif told them.
"And I'll take second," Hallgrim volunteered eagerly.
Leif nodded, "Everyone else, get some sleep. I want to break camp as soon as the sun rises."
Meal finished, the Norsemen, with the exception of Leif, settled down to sleep, pulling their cloaks tightly about them. None of them slept more than an arm's reach from their weapons. Still sat beside the warmth of the fire, Leif pulled out a whetstone and set about making sure his sword was sharp, his eyes fixed intently on the trees beyond the light of the flames.
"WAKE UP!"
The shout quickly roused the slumbering Norsemen and they leapt to their feet brandishing their weapons. As they blinked sleep from their bleary eyes, the warriors took notice of Hallgrim, sword raised, and the three figures stumbling down the steep slope.
"S-s-stop!" Hallgrim called out to the approaching silhouettes, his sword shaking in his hand. The figures continued shambling forwards.
Leif stepped forward, "If you are friend, halt and declare yourself! If you be foe, know we won't show mercy." Still they advanced. "Thorred!"
The archer let loose the arrow he held ready in his bow. It sailed through the air, past Leif and Hallgrim, towards the approaching forms and buried itself in the ground at their feet. They did not slow or falter.
"Can we stop being nice now?" Valbrand growled as he stepped closer, the shaft of his long axe held tight in his hands.
Leif nodded and almost immediately a trio of arrows flew past him and buried themselves in the slow-moving strangers. Still they continued.
"Are they wearing armour?" Ingjald asked from his place by the fire.
"Might explain why they move so strangely. And slowly," piped up Eirik.
"Give them another volley," Hallvard suggested and a second later another trio of arrows flew forth once again burying themselves in the approaching figures who kept approaching.
Ulfrik, Thrand and Thorred lowered their bows and drew out weapons better suited to the hand-to-hand fighting that would soon erupt: Ulfrik, a pair of beautifully engraved long knives; Thrand, a sword that had seen him through many battles; and Thorred, a sturdy hand axe inherited from his father. A moment later, the three dark silhouettes stepped into the circle of light cast by the fire and every member of the expedition gasped, some even retreating back several steps.
The men stood before them were the three dead natives from the woods and dead they certainly were. Their skin was greyed and shrivelled, eyes white and lifeless. Dried blood stained their faces where it had leaked from ears, mouths and noses while their clothes were red with blood from the wounds that took their lives. Each of the shambling corpses had a pair of arrows protruding from them: Thorred had struck one in the throat and stomach; Ulfrik had hit another in the shoulder while his second arrow had pierced its heart; Thrand too had struck one in the heart, his second arrow buried in its thigh. All three of the natives had received mortal wounds and should have died again.
"What sorcery is this?" Eirik gasped.
Leif's voice, still strong and confident, rang out through the quiet night, "Steel yourselves!"
The others fell silent and gripped their weapons even more tightly. Stepping forwards, the warriors formed into a rough line, standing side-by-side to face their unnatural foe.
Eirik was the first to strike, stepping forward and thrusting his spear into the chest of the right-most monster, its tip sinking deep. The dead man barely slowed, forcing itself further onto the shaft.
"They're strong!" Eirik grunted as he strained to hold onto his weapon. "Someone help me!"
Halfdan, sheathing his sword, stepped forward and grabbed hold of the spear and, working together, the two of them finally managed to stop the creature.
To their left, Valbrand stepped forward and swung his great axe at the figure in the middle. The head of the axe crunched as it hit bone and the corpse stumbled backwards. "Hah!" Valbrand stepped back wrenching his axe free. "That's how you do it!" He turned back to the others grinning.
"Behind you!"
Hallvard's warning came just in time. A pair of impossibly strong hands grasped Valbrand by his cloak and dragged him backwards. Leif and Hallvard leapt forward to pull their companion back. Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, Thorred and Hallgrim lunged with their swords and cut deep into the dead body in front of them before dancing back out of its reach. Again, and again, they attacked and retreated but, even though the corpses flesh was cut to ribbons, it would not stop.
Leif, using his sword, cut through Valbrand's cloak freeing him from the monsters grasp and causing him to fall forwards into Hallvard. Thrusting forward, Leif drove the blade into the dead native's heart. It didn't react to the blade but continued to try and grab at Leif, gnashing at his throat with browned teeth.
"What does it take to stop these things?" Ulfrik grunted from the end of the line where he and Ingjald hacked at the monster impaled on the spear. He ducked under its outstretched arm and drove a knife into its side. "They won't die!"
"Of course not, they're already dead!" Valbrand grumbled as he untangled himself from Hallvard and struggled back to his feet.
"Arrrrgh!" A scream of pain erupted from the end of the line and Hallgrim staggered back clutching his arm. "It bit me!"
Thrand, axe swinging, stepped in to fill the gap in the line while Leif set about the monster in the middle with his sword. Leif swung his sword at the corpses neck and, in one powerful strike, removed its head.
For a moment, the corpse continued stumbling forward then collapsed to the ground, lifeless at last. Hush fell for a moment as the warriors stared at the body on the ground.
"Aim for the head!"
Almost as one, at opposite ends of the line, Thrand and Ingjald hefted their blades and, with one great swing, decapitated the creatures before them.
The ten Norsemen stepped back from the still bodies, panting.
Eirik heaved, removing his spear from the corpse, and leant against it, muscles aching. "Have we sailed all the way to Niflheim?" he asked.
"Might be why there's nothing living here," Thrand added.
Valbrand shook his head, winced and started rubbing at his neck. He made his way over to the fire and collapsed onto the floor beside it, "This isn't Niflheim. Those were Draugr."
"Draugr?" Hallgrim followed him, cradling his arm. "What are Draugr?"
"Dead men who refuse to die. They eat the flesh of the living and are almost impossible to kill."
The group began drifting over to the fire although Leif and Hallvard remained where they were keeping their eyes fixed on the three corpses.
"Pretty good description if you ask me. I didn't think we'd ever stop them."
"And did you notice the smell? Much longer and I think that would have killed me!"
The group at the fire began to laugh as the tension lifted.
"Didn't smell as bad as Valbrand!" The laughter grew louder.
Stood by the fallen natives, Hallvard looked at the dark, already clotted blood that stained his blade. "What do we do now?" he asked Leif, his voice soft so it wouldn't carry to the others.
"We return to the settlement to warn the rest of the crew," came the answer. "And we pray we aren't too late."
They burned the bodies before they slept. According to Valbrand, it was the only way to be sure the Draugr were truly dead. Hallvard and Leif, unable to sleep, had volunteered to keep watch while the others rested for a few more hours. Despite being tired from the long march the day before and the battle itself, none of them had slept well. For their part, Leif and Hallvard watched the darkness, eyes hawk-like but no more Draugr emerged from the trees and the woods were silent save for the crackle of the fire and Valbrand's snores.
Leif woke the warriors as soon as dawn broke and, after a quick breakfast of grapes, they stamped out the fire and set off back towards the coast.
For the first few hours, the group made good time but by noon their pace had started to slack.
"We need to stop," Thorred called to Leif, who was at the head of the group. The Norsemen slowed, most of them breathing heavily, but Hallgrim, drenched with sweat, collapsed to the ground. The other warriors gathered around him concerned.
"He doesn't look well," Thorred pointed out as he placed a hand on the young man's forehead, "and he's burning up."
Eirik bent down and rolled up Hallgrim's sleeve to examine the wound inflicted by the Draugr's bite. Hallgrim winced and grimaced at the touch. Blood and pus stained the bandage and the smell caused his nose to wrinkle. "Whatever this is, its working fast."
"Can we do anything else for him?" Leif asked.
Eirik shook his head, "I've cleaned the wound twice but we're out of medicines and I don't know the local plants well enough to risk using any. They might be poisonous." He examined the wound rolling the sleeve up further. The veins were raised, red and stretched up the arm, past the shoulder and onto Hallgrim's chest. "It's already spread too far to amputate. His only hope is to get back to the settlement and hope we're in time for the medicine there to work."
Leif, face serious, stared at the boy for a moment. "I don't want this to slow us down. If he can't keep up, we will have to carry him. We'll take it in turns to carry him."
"I-I-I can k-k-keep up," Hallgrim told him between chattering teeth. Many of the others exchanged worried looks. If the infection continued spreading at the speed it already had, they didn't expect to have to carry him for long.
A few minutes later, after catching their breath and relieving themselves, the Norsemen climbed to their feet and resumed their long march back toward the rest of their crew, Hallgrim leaning heavily on Thorred as they moved.
Barely ten minutes later, they stopped again as the wounded warrior collapsed against a tree, panting and exhausted. While Halfdan helped the warrior to drink from the water skin tied to his belt, Leif ordered Valbrand and Hallvard to find a pair of sturdy branches.
Once the stretcher was fashioned from the branches and the blanket from Hallgrim's pack, they set off with Leif and Thorred taking the first turn at carrying the stretcher.
By the time the early winter night descended, nine of the group were bone-tired and the tenth had slipped into a sleep from which he could not be raised. They made camp beside a wide stream, using the icy water to refill their skins, and quickly gathered wood to light a fire.
"We need a watch," an exhausted Ingjald mumbled as he struggled to keep his eyes open.
"I agree. And I think there should be two of us," Hallvard added as he picked at the grapes in the palm of his hand. "I'll take first watch. Who will join me?"
There was a moment of hesitation, all of them just wanting to give themselves up to sleep. Eventually, Eirik piped up, voice slurring with exhaustion, "I'll join you. Someone needs to keep an eye on Hallgrim."
As one, they all glanced across at the prone figure near the fire. His breathing was slow and laboured and the red lines now covered most of his chest and half of his face. "Do you think he'll survive the night?" Thorred asked.
Eirik shook his head wearily, "I doubt it. I'm surprised he's lasted this long. He's a tough one."
"Of course he is," Valbrand growled quietly, "He's a warrior!"
As they finished their meagre meal, the Norsemen sorted out the other watch shifts and began to settle down near the fire. Exhaustion took them quickly into the realm of sleep and every one of them slept with their weapons held tightly in their hands. Hallvard stood guard, too afraid to sit down lest sleep claim him too.
Eirik finished changing the stinking bandage on Hallgrim's arm and weaved his way between his sleeping companions to stand beside the other sentry. "Do you think they'll come tonight?" he asked.
Hallvard fought to keep his eyes open as he answered, "I pray they don't but I think the gods may have abandoned this cursed place. I think we're on our own here."
"Arrrrgh..."
The scream pierced the night before subsiding into a wet gurgle. Eight members of the expedition scrambled quickly to their feet and found Hallgrim crouched over Thorred's gurgling form.
"What are you doing?" Valbrand grabbed the boy by the shoulders and heaved him off. Most of Thorred's throat came away with him. As Hallgrim turned to face they others, they let out a gasp and froze. His skin was pale, his eyes white, and the red veins that crisscrossed his skin had turned black. He had become Draugr.
Hallgrim let out a guttural growl and lunged at Valbrand who, caught off-guard, didn't have time to react. As a pair of strong, dead hands closed on his throat, he was saved by Leif who stepped in and swung his blade separating the Draugr's head from its body. Blood erupted from the wound - not squirting out but oozing, thick and clotted – splattering Valbrand's clothes.
The group stood frozen, trying to understand what had happened. In only a few seconds two of their group had been slain.
"What in Odin's name just happened?" Valbrand yelled, his voice higher than usual.
"Hallgrim was a Draugr," Ulfrik muttered softly, almost to himself.
"I can see that!" Valbrand raged, "But how?"
"The bite. It must have been the bite," a subdued Eirik offered as he stared at Hallgrim's unmoving form. "I must – I must have missed it." He looked at Valbrand, wide eyes filled with concern. "He didn't bite you, did he?"
"No, he didn't. No thanks to any of you! Stood around gaping didn't you and left the captain to save me. You know what I think? I think – "
"Valbrand, stop." Leif's voice was soft and quiet but cut easily through the other man's shouting. Valbrand fell silent and turned to look at his captain. "Take a minute to calm down. And clean yourself up," Leif added pointing to the ichor that covered Valbrand's clothes.
Face still red, Valbrand obeyed, crossing the camp to the stream and muttering angrily as he shoved past the others.
"Who was on watch?" Leif asked the otherwise silent group. After a moment, Thrand and Ingjald, faces blank with shock, raised their hands.
"We – we fell asleep," Ingjald admitted eventually. Beside him, Thrand, eyes far off, nodded slowly.
"Then it is your job to deal with the bodies. We don't have time for a proper burial so you will have to burn them. And make sure to cut off Thorred's head. Just in case." If Leif saw the look of horror on everyone's face, he didn't show it. As he moved away from the fire, Hallvard stepped up beside the guilt-stricken duo whose wide eyes were fixed on Thorred.
Hallvard placed a hand on each of their shoulders, "We'll help, won't we?" he asked, turning to the others. The question helped to snap many of the others out of their trance and there were some muttered agreements and nods. "Gather up some firewood but, don't – don't wander too far." Hallvard did his best to sound calm but his voice cracked for a moment and he hoped the others hadn't noticed.
While the others began to gather twigs and kindling for the funeral pyres, many of them walking past good sized branches their eyes unseeing, Hallvard crossed to where Leif stood on his own a little ways from the camp.
"Are you alright?" he asked. Leif only nodded silently. "It's not your fault. It's not theirs either." He nodded toward Thrand, who had stepped behind a tree to vomit, and Ingjald, who was still frozen staring at the bodies of their fallen friends.
Leif let out a sigh and his head slumped forward. "I know," he admitted. "We all knew Hallgrim wasn't going to make it but..."
"Seeing him as one of them was worse and then seeing what he did to Thorred... The others are taking it hard. WE are taking it hard."
"I should have taken watch and let everyone sleep," Leif muttered quietly. "I could see how tired everyone was. I should have realised they wouldn't have been able to stay awake."
"You were as tired as we were and even if you don't like to admit it, you are only mortal too. You needed sleep. I could tell from your snoring."
A small smile flickered on Leif's face but before he could reply there came a yell from the others.
"DRAUGR!" Halfdan came rushing into the light of the fire. "Draugr, out there!" He pointed at the treeline with his sword. Having heard the cry, the others had quickly retreated back to the fire. Leif and Halfdan quickly strode over to them.
"Where?" Leif asked, voice powerful once more.
"Everywhere!"
Sure enough, moments later they could pick out several silhouettes slowly approaching through the trees and the group formed into a circle, backs to the fire.
"How many are there?" Hallvard asked, squinting into the darkness.
"Two over here," Valbrand called out.
"Three here."
"Three – no four here!"
"I've got another one!"
"And me!"
"What's that? That one's got no legs! Does that count as one or half?"
Hallvard shook his head. "We're outnumbered then. What do we do?" He looked to Leif stood beside him, "Let them come to us? Or take the fight to them?"
Leif considered for a moment. "We go to them. Kill them while they're still spread out. Work together and don't go alone. Remember, they're slow but strong."
Eirik and Halfdan, stood side-by-side, glanced at one another for a moment and dashed forward toward a lone Draugr. As they approached, Eirik drove his spear forward, skewering the creature, and Halfdan stepped past him, sword swinging. A moment later the undead native's head bounced to the ground. With a tug, Eirik extracted his spear and the body crumpled to the ground. He and Halfdan span to their right and rushed toward the legless Draugr again working as a team – Eirik pinning the creature while Halfdan finished it off.
All around the camp the battle raged. Ulfrik and Valbrand hacked at a pair of the walkers on the other side of the stream while Leif and Hallvard fought against a trio, ducking and thrusting as they tried to get inside the reach of the Draugr and strike at their heads. Meanwhile Thrand and Ingjald, fighting as though they had something to prove, battled against a cluster of four Draugr at the edge of the circle of firelight.
Ingjald swung his heavy axe at the monster before him, the weapons head crunching into the Draugr's neck. It staggered sideways but didn't fall. He drew back his axe again to finish off the creature but was distracted by a scream behind him. Whirling around, he caught sight of Thrand being dragged to the ground by three of their foes, one with its teeth already sunk deep in his leg.
"Thrand!" Ingjald began to take a step forward to aid his comrade when he felt a strong pair of rotted hands drag him backwards and felt a sharp pain in his own shoulder.
Hallvard heard the shout as he cut the legs out from under his opponent but knew better than to look. As the Draugr hit the ground, he swung his sword again and cut its head from its shoulders. He glanced at Leif who stood over a pair of decapitated creatures and, behind him, saw Valbrand finishing off another Draugr. Of Ulfrik, there was no sign. Hallvard turned in time to see Eirik and Halfdan attack the creature that had killed Ingjald.
The remaining members of the dwindling company eyed up the three Draugr devouring what was left of Thrand.
"There are more of them out there," Valbrand panted. "Scores of them. They dragged off Ulfrik."
"How do we fight them all?" Eirik asked as he backed towards the group, broken spear still extended.
"We don't," the group looked at Leif surprised. "We run. No stopping, no looking back and whoever makes it back to the ship tells the others to set sail for home. This land is no place for the living."