Tove was sleeping peacefully on the mattress. He watched her for a while, glad to have her in the cell for his sake almost as much as her own. He hadn’t realized how unbearable the time had been until he looked at her. There was no warmth, nothing worth smiling over or enjoying. He blamed himself for waiting.
The regular rounds came by as normal and the guards spent a few minutes yanking on the door. They left after, seemingly unconcerned that they’d failed to get in and do whatever Ásví wanted them to. They were likely counting on him sleeping and Erik had no good way around it. He hadn’t intended on working around it at all, only on buying enough time that Tove might be able to walk on her own. He could manage that much, he knew it.
A second round of guards came through an hour or two later, pulling at the handle in turns. It wasn’t easy on Erik’s arms, especially not with the pain of the bit that had been cut off. The wound had stopped bleeding, at least, but it did him no favors. They waited around for far less time after failing to pull the door free, leaving him time to rest his arms. They had sent only men in armor to try the door. It made sense, considering what he’d done to the guards, but it gave him more than enough warning.
Another group came, this time louder than the last. They were shouting, riled up. When they came close enough Erik could tell they were drunk.
“A’right! Firs’ one gets ‘im outta that shitbox, gets a look at Ásví’s tits.”
The men all laughed and then cheered.
“So hoos up firs’?”
“Aye!” a man shouted.
Erik couldn’t see any of them and he had no intention of looking, especially not now. The noise had woken Tove up and she stood up, shakily, moving herself over to him. The first man began to yank as Erik noticed her.
“You can walk? Great.”
She angled her head around him, looking up at the door. “How many are there?”
Erik focused on keeping his grip tight against the pull of the handle. “Dunno. I think they turned me into a drinking game. Could be at this for a while.”
The man yanking the door gave up and all the men laughed at him.
“I’ll not hear a laugh at me! Le’s see you fucks pull it open then! He’s a bear’s strength, I swear it!”
They booed him and the next man came to try. It went on in turn for longer than Erik was happy about. They began playing other games, only pulling at the door when they were bored. The noise grew, though, rather than died. More men joined.
It had been nearly three hours and Erik’s hands were red, worn raw from the wood dragging against his skin. The men had just finished a song and were about to begin another when Erik heard a strange noise.
It was a horn. A warning, loud, deep, and close. The men all hushed, before a panic set in among them. He heard them go rushing out of the room in complete disorder. The room outside was quiet, only the sound of mail jangling down the hall. He called for Tove to check the door. She did.
“Empty. They’ve all gone.”
Erik stood up, looking out the door himself. The sound of the clattering armor had faded and the horn winded. In the space between one sound of warning and the next, a noise flooded into the room. A noise Erik had heard before, only briefly.
It was the booming sound of stone collapsing onto stone.
chapter|17
The noise was too far away to have come from the far end of the tunnel and there likely would have been dust. Erik kept his eyes locked on the room through the bars in the door. There were a few swords that had been left behind. He was still not entirely convinced that this wasn’t some plan by Ásví to trick him. The horn sounded again, this time cut short. A half second after it stopped, another boom roared into the cells. There was no reason to wait, he decided, so he turned to Tove.
“I’ll be right back.”
He turned the handle and pushed the door open, running as quickly as he could to the two nearest swords, throwing them into the cell. He stood up to return to the cell when he heard screams. Not shouts of battle, but the sounds of dying men. They were coming from the end of the hall. The distinctive shift of chain mail sounded, beating a feverish rhythm toward them. Erik didn’t wait to see what the man was fleeing, but he had a guess. He made it back into the cell as he heard the man scream, begging for his life. The door closed and he latched it, grabbing a sword and kicking the other to Tove before spinning to face the door. There was no point in holding it shut, not now.
The hall went silent again and he heard something he hadn’t expected. It was Haki. He was making a sort of high squeal. Erik heard the door to Haki’s cell open and the man walked out.
“She’s… come back… for me! Finally!” He wheezed, his voice elated. “To see… see me to… Valhalla! Heeee!” The noise was inhuman, an uneven, manic screech forced through an unruly throat. “Come back… for Haki!”
Erik ran to the door, looking out the bars. Haki started what must have been the nearest thing to a run he could manage, and Erik followed him over to see Göll come from the hallway. His mouth dropped open. Her armor was torn and she was bleeding from her arms and from a deep cut above her eye. They were sealing visibly in just the short time he’d seen her.
Haki ran to her and she slapped
