Page 57 of The Magic of Vanaheim

They were indeed standing on a longship’s deck. A whole war ship, hidden under a mound as big as a royal longhouse. The space was cramped with goods, bags, and chests, the walls lined with spears. On the far end of the chamber the white bones of horses and other hapless creatures shone in Talvinen’s magical light, and overlooking all these offerings, sitting on a high chair, was a bulky figure. It regarded them with eyes glowing an ominous blue, like shards of broken ice.

“And who might you be, shadow dweller?” Talvinen asked. He seemed totally unimpressed by the undead warrior looming over them, and Håkon adored him for his bravery.

“Liar,” thedraugrgrowled. “I’m King Gorm, and my son Harald rules over these lands.”

Talvinen laughed, and Håkon wanted to give him a good smack over the head for provoking such a dangerous creature like the undead.

“So the rumors are true. This is indeed the burial place of the Ynglingar. How peculiar,” Talvinen said. “Then your son Harald is buried in the mound beside you, and the third mound belongs tohisson, Erling, although I’m not sure he was ever put to rest there.”

“Lies!”

Rising from the throne on which he had been laid to rest, thedraugrpointed an accusing finger at Talvinen. But of course the blastedVanrwasn’t impressed.

“Eons have passed since you reigned over this land,” Talvinen said as if he were talking to an unruly child. “Your line is extinct, your dominion crumbled.Irule over Vanaheim.”

To the living, Talvinen always made a point of emphasizing that Håkon ruled by his side, ridiculous as this notion may be. The fact he didn’t point it out to an undead king who might hold a grudge was unexpected and endearing.

Thedraugr’sgaunt hand closed around the hilt of an ancient sword that protruded from the jumble of treasures and trinkets around its throne. A strange, rattling sound left the dead king’s lips, and it took Håkon a moment to realize that he was laughing.

“Bold words. But death sharpened my senses. I know who you are.”

“And who am I?”

While Talvinen was chattering with the corpse, Håkon looked around for an escape route. Somehow, the dead and his belongings must have gotten into the grave before it was sealed.

“You’re avala,” thedraugrgrowled, and Håkon froze. How could he know that? “An occupation unfitting for a man, and disgraceful for a king. And your whore is a frost giant. Maybe I should test if you’re really fitting to rule—”

Hissing a spell, Talvinen cut thedraugr’sramblings short. A rain of ice splinters, glittering viciously in the magical light as they surged through the air, pierced the undead’s chest. King Gorm was said to have fallen in battle, and his corpse had the gaping wounds to prove it. Now he stumbled under Talvinen’s attack, his body littered with deep cuts, but it didn’t seem to matter to thedraugr.

“You will not offend my husband,” Talvinen said, voice as cold as hisseiðr, and didn’t he have a knack for ice magic?

“We need to get out of here,” Håkon hissed. Finally, he spotted a place where the grave goods were laid out in a differentpattern, the ground less crowded. This might have been the entrance. “Now.”

Thedraugruttered a hoarse cry and charged. He was fast. Faster than any living man should be, and Håkon barely had time to readyIsbaniand step forward to shield his husband. The dead king’s ancient blade clashed against Håkon’s, the force of the blow reverberating all the way to his shoulder.

Talvinen growled angrily. He moved with Håkon, exploiting thedraugr’sdistraction by dealing a vicious cut to his side. King Gorm grunted, but the cut that would’ve killed a mortal merely slowed him down. Thedraugrswung his free arm, hitting Talvinen in the chest and sending him crashing into a pile of round shields.

Håkon readied his stance. He dove under thedraugr’snext blow, picking up a shield as he went. King Gorm hissed in frustration. His undead state undoubtedly lent him strength and speed beyond mortal limits, and his body seemed to have risen almost to the size of a troll, towering over Håkon. But the confines of the burial chamber restricted his movements.

Dancing around his opponent, Håkon dealt a deep cut to thedraugr’sleg. He dodged the undead’s flailing arms, using his shield to shove Gorm off balance. Another turn. Another cut. Thedraugrgrunted as Håkon sidestepped his next blow and buried his blade into his shoulder.Isbanihissed as it cut through the rotting flesh, and the grunt turned into a howl.

Håkon didn’t stop to inspect the damage he’d done. He turned again, always trying to get into Gorm’s back, to make his larger opponent stumble around in graceless circles like a dancing bear. If it kept Talvinen safe, he was going to cut up this walking corpse bit by bit until nothing was left but a neat pile of limbs.

Thedraugrsnarled and flailed, hacking at him with his sword, but he couldn’t land a hit. Anticipating Håkon’s next move, Gorm changed his tactics. As Håkon spun around once more, thedraugrthrew his entire heavy body at him, trying to crush him under his weight.

Håkon stumbled and barely managed to avoid being caught between Gorm and the ship’s railing. He slipped past thedraugrby a breath, and for a second they found themselves back-to-back. Håkon spunIsbaniand stabbed blindly into thedraugr’sback. He felt the blade slide through rotting flesh and brittle bone, and thedraugrfroze. Håkon gave his sword a final thrust and whirled around to face Gorm.

Thedraugrhad fallen to his knees, motionless again, but Håkon could tell that whatever sinister magic had possessed the corpse, it hadn’t left yet.

“When you pullIsbaniout, behead him quickly. Only this way will he be truly gone.”

Håkon’s gaze snapped up to find Talvinen sitting on a barrel, watching him. A shard of ice the size of a wooden flake hovered over his hand, ready to strike.

“I couldn’t resist watching you fight,” Talvinen said with a sheepish grin. “And I didn’t want to deny you your honorable victory.”

But he’d obviously been ready to intervene if things had turned ugly. Håkon felt a lump forming in his throat. Hurriedly, he shifted his focus back on the matter at hand. He pulledIsbanifrom where it sat buried in the undead’s back and beheaded thedraugrwith a quick blow. And if he made sure to swingIsbaniin a most graceful arc and let thedraugr’shead roll at Talvinen’s feet, who was to judge? As a good king, Talvinen deserved to be gifted with fallen enemies, after all.

Jumping from the barrel, Talvinen twirled the shard like a knife before sending it crashing into the mound, ripping its side open.