Viking Tales Part.4
	The small room at the top of the manor house was as silent as a graveyard. The lone candle sitting on the rickety old wooden table cast dancing shadows on the nearby stonewalls. Harkamus sat with his back against the cool stone, staring at the small flame as it danced and leapt off of the wax. The old Viking he had come to know simply as Groan was curled up beneath the table like an old hunting dog. Every so often he would catch a small snippet of what the man was whining about in his sleep. Things like "stop" and "I'll kill you" made up the meat of his nightmares. Harkamus felt pity for the old man. In the two days since he arrived at the manor house, he had learned several things about his companions. Groan had at one time been a proud Viking warrior. According to the old man he had lost his right arm in a clan war, it had been hacked off at the shoulder by an opposing clansmen?s axe. After that, the pain from infection had been so great that he drowned the pain in flagon after flagon of mead until the bliss of unconsciousness claimed him.  After several years of this, what had once been admiration from his clan, turned into pity, then disgust. He became the joke of the village, children spitting on him as he begged for mead.
	Then there was Kazi. The fiery-headed woman was a true treat. She kept her past a closely guarded secret. She had admitted to doing several unsavory things in her past to survive. The list included assassination, theft, and prostitution. Apparently, she was trained to fight with sword and fist somewhere in the Far East. Her most lucrative business was theft, and she had become the consummate thief until recently. She had taken an assignment from a local merchant to steal a rare gem from a sorcerers tower. Her tactics were almost perfect. She had made it to his treasure room with no incident, but when she went to take the gem from its hiding place, a blinding light struck her. When she awoke, she found herself here, and in the company of the old man.
	The woman did something for Harkamus. The way she moved and talked released some primal urges that were hard for him to suppress. Hell, it would have been difficult for any man to contain himself, unless he was a eunuch. At the moment she was sleeping, curled up like a small child in the opposite corner of the room. Kazi was no stranger to the looks that Harkamus had been giving her, and kept herself as far removed from him as possible. Always the opportunist, she knew when was best to attach herself to a man, and when to keep her distance. Here in the near future, it may be necessary for her to align herself with the big Viking, but right now she was fine on her own.
	For the past two nights, they had had a visitor. Goblin had come to lead one of them away. The first night it was Groan. He was reluctant to go, obviously uneasy. But when the little creature mentioned mead and mutton legs, Groan nearly ran for the door. Later that evening, Groan returned looking pale as a ghost. He wouldn't speak about what happened to him, and simply went to bed, utterly exhausted. The next night Goblin returned, this time to cart Kazi off. She too returned later that night, pale and covered in sweat. After returning she simply lay in the corner and slept. As soon as she was in a deep sleep, Harkamus crept over to her prone form. Without touching her he searched her for anything unusual. After several tense moments, he saw a very odd marking on her neck. Two small puncture wounds, with tiny spots of dried blood, were about half way down the side of her neck. She shivered in her sleep, pulling on phantom covers, trying desperately to stay warm. Sweat beaded off of the Vikings head from the stale night air. It was scalding in the little room.
	Whatever was happing to them was obviously not good. It was also obvious that the next time Goblin came to the room, he would be coming for Harkamus himself. The big Viking thought hard about what he should do next. Whatever was happening to these people he definitely didn't want happening to him. If Goblin came for him he would crush the little creature like a bug then search the house for the sorcerer. Once he found him, he would force him to take him out of here. Just then Kazi stirred in her sleep. Slowly she rolled over eyes wide-awake. "I saw your friend last night" she said. She sat up slowly, stretching from side to side as if she had slept in a weird position.
			Harkamus didn't quite understand. "My friend?"
	"Yes, the boy with the tattoos. I saw him last night when I was with Lord.." the rest of the sentence trailed off. Kazi had an odd expression on her face. It was almost as if she were about to be sick. "He is in the dining hall chained to the wall. He didn't look to good, I think he may be dying." This last sentence struck Harkamus like a thunderbolt. If the sorcerer died, he would have no way of returning home.
	"Can you find your way to the dining hall again if you had to?" His tone was urgent. "Yes, probably" she mumbled. Something was holding her back. Harkamus quickly changed the subject. "Did you speak with him? The sorcerer I mean."
	Again Kazi hesitated. There was definitely something she was hiding from him. "He spoke to me, but it was in a language I didn't understand. I think he wanted me to free him, but he was chained to the wall, and I never saw a key."
	Harkamus stared at her intently. After several seconds of this, Kazi had to avert her eyes. Finally, after several tense minutes of silence, Harkamus made an announcement. "I'm leaving here, tonight." Both Kazi and Groan sat up at this proclamation. "When Goblin comes to get me i am going to break free of here. I'll find my way to this dining hall you speak of, get the sorcerer and make him use his magic to send me home. I ask you both now, will you join me? I will feel no obligation after this point if you do not come. The offer is here now, and it will be my only offer." Silence permeated the late night air. All three of them sat silently, contemplating their next actions.
	"If we go, we must go quickly." Kazi intoned. "Lord McNeil will be asleep for another hour. When Goblin comes for you, he will take you to the dining hall and let you eat your fill. After that McNeil will come for you." She winced as if remembering a bad dream. The old Viking nodded his head to her assessment. Harkamus stood, and the others followed suit. "So your with me?" he asked. "Aye." Kazi replied. "And you elder?" Harkamus asked, staring directly at Groan. "I too am with you friend." Groan mumbled.
	As if on queue, the door to the small room slowly creaked open. Goblin, holding a torch in his hand, came into the room. He was taken a back by the site of all three of them still awake, and standing together in the center of the room. Goblin gathered his courage. "You" he said sternly, pointing at the huge Viking. "You come. Master dines with you tonight." Harkamus never hesitated. He covered the ten feet between Goblin and himself in two quick strides. An arm the size of a small tree trunk slammed into Goblins throat at full force. The pitiful creature never had a chance to react. Goblin crashed into the wall beside the doorway, the blow was enormous. Bones in his head and spine cracked on impact. The limp lifeless corpse slid slowly down the wall into a seated position. Only then did the now dead creature let loose of the torch. It rolled, sputtering flames, across the stone floor. Harkamus walked over to the torch and picked it up. He thoroughly searched Goblins corpse, but found nothing of value.
		"Well there's no turning back now." Kazi intoned.
	The companions made their way down the outside stairwell of the house, Kazi leading the way, Harkamus bringing up the rear. The night air was crisp and cool, tantalizing the skin. Harkamus' warrior senses were finally being reawakened. He was a man of action, not complacency. Sitting in that room for several days had put him in a haze. But now he was once again the proud leader of a clan, marching forward to do battle. Sure his clan now consisted of a one armed drunk and an ex-prostitute, but it was a clan nonetheless. After several sets of staircases at dizzying heights, they finally came to a lower landing. A lone door stood closed at the base of the stairs. Here Kazi stopped.
	"Behind this door is a bedroom. You have to forgive me if I lack some details, but I was kind of worried about other things at the time. If we pass through then turn right we will come to the main entrance hall, then the music room. From there it's the kitchen then the dining hall. From here on we cannot talk. I do not know where McNeil sleeps, so we must be silent." Both of the men nodded their agreement, and then the trio slowly opened the bedroom door. Once inside the bedroom, the small group doused the torch, and sat a moment letting their eyes adjust to the darkness within. After several moments, Harkamus could make out the details of the room. Two large beds sat side by side in the middle of the room, a small night table dividing them. A large clothes cabinet made of some exotic wood sat in one corner, and the floor was covered with an oval rug, obviously expensive. Something glinting on the wall caught Harkamus' eye. He made his way over to the wall and sighed in relief. Hanging on the wall was an axe. It was a small hand axe, more suited to chopping wood than flesh, but at least they now had a weapon.
	Harkamus removed the axe from the wall, and tested its weight and balance. It seemed of good quality, although more suited to decoration than battle. They moved from the bedroom into a well-lit hallway. Lining the halls were all manner of paintings. Every wall was covered in what looked to be priceless artwork of every description. Harkamus pushed them on relentlessly. He was getting an uneasy feeling and wanted to get through with this quickly. They sped through the gallery, and down the stairs to the entrance hall without incident. Kazi led them through the music room and the kitchen. It was all too easy. They turned right once in the kitchen, and entered another doorway. Once in the dining hall Harkamus stopped, and stared. Hanging on the wall on the opposite side of the room was the sorcerer. He did look to be in bad shape. Bandages wrapped around his waist were soaked in blood. His arms were obviously dislocated, and he hung at an odd angle from the restraints. His face had been pummeled mercilessly, and was a mass of bruises. But what was on the dining room table caught his attention even more. Bjorenstead, his mighty hammer. The hammer was lying on the table, obviously forgotten by the lord of the manor. Harkamus rushed over to it and picked it up reverently. He put the hand axe onto his belt.  As soon as the big Viking had entered the room, the sorcerer's head snapped up at attention.
	He slowly righted himself, pain wracking his battered face. "YOU!" he snarled. The other two companions entered the dining hall cautiously. "Have you come to finish the job now that I am helpless? How honorable of you. But what else should I expect from a barbarian?" Ying spat.
	"I'm not here to kill you heathen, i am here to free you." Harkamus said. "If we let you loose, can you get us out of here?" The question hung in the air for what seemed like hours. Finally Ying answered. "I am too weak to cast spells. If I could recuperate maybe, but it would take time." Harkamus walked over to the hanging man and studied the manacles. "Then ill buy you the time you need." The manacles seemed to shimmer in the torchlight, almost as if they had a life of their own. They seemed sturdy as well. "Hold still" he commanded Ying. Bracing his foot against the wall, Harkamus grabbed one of the manacles around Ying's wrist. The big Viking pulled against the restraints. Minutes passed, and still nothing. Small drops of sweat appeared on his forehead, his muscles corded like bands of iron.
	"Forget it barbarian, not even you could break these. They are heavily enchanted." Ying stared at the massive man, marveling at the sheer size of him. Minute after agonizing minute passed with no change. Pain and determination was etched on Harkamus' face. Slowly one of the enchanted links on the chain began to bend. It started to deform, and the shimmer around it wavered. Ying looked on in awe. With a loud popping noise the chain broke, and the manacles immediately disappeared. Harkamus was thrown onto his back, and the sorcerer collapsed to the floor. "By the gods!" Groan exclaimed.
	A great howling sound came somewhere from upstairs. The small hairs on the back of their necks stood on end. It was a hideous sound, half man half animal. The master had awakened.
				To Be continued...