The three men stared at her in mute amazement. “Never mind that, look here,” she said and showed them the sequence she had dreamed of, that coincided with the strange combination of numbers Eldard had. “The number represents a place in Iceland. I Googled it,” she smiled happily, although her eyes bore evidence of rapidly deteriorating health and energy. “The town is called Reykjavík and the ‘871±2’ part is the name of a permanent exhibition of the alleged first longhouse in Iceland, a hall from the Viking Age and other shit,” she babbled as she checked the information on Sam’s cell phone.
Her breath raced as she explained, so Sam thought to take control of the conversation, “Okay, so… that cannot be Valhalla, right? Because, if it was Valhalla, wouldn’t it be guarded instead of tons of tourists walking through it all day. What I want to know is, if The Brotherhood’s sole purpose is to protect unwanted agents from finding Valhalla, why do they not know where it is?”
Gunnar looked amused.
“You think that is the sole purpose of our order?” he chuckled. “No, my friend, our tentacles are a little longer than that. But, the lady warriors of The Brotherhood, also called Knights of the Hammer, hailed directly from fathers who walked with Wotan, the chieftain.”
‘Wotan, the chieftain in my dream at the river,’ Nina remembered.
Gunnar continued, “Along the ages, some of the information had to be encoded over several sites to preserve the secret, just in case they were ever infiltrated or in the event of the entire order being killed off before the information was passed on, see?”
Sam nodded. Eldard brought them each a beer from the fridge, “Captain says about 10 more minutes,” he announced.
“So that is why Val was so protective of the vial when the museum robberies started,” Nina noted.
“Yes.” She could see a flicker of longing in Gunnar’s eyes at the mention of his late wife’s name and her burning eyes looked over to Sam. She remembered him saying he wouldn’t know what to do if she had to perish, a cherished memory she hoped would be the essence of Sam’s feelings. It denoted a similar loyalty as that which she saw in Gunnar and the idea made her heart jump just a little.
“Hello!” they heard Eldard chime and he raised his hand in an amicable wave.
Nina, Sam, and Gunnar turned to see who he was greeting, and promptly joined in, waving with a smile towards the other boat which trailed happily a short distance behind them to the left. They found it endearing that senior citizens that mature still went out and enjoyed life, having no idea that the two old men from Tomar were not in Regensburg for the sights.
When the four companions arrived at Keflavík International Airport, it was freezing. It was not quite into autumn, it was an odd weather day in Iceland. Fortunately, they had catered for such conditions with windbreakers and plenty of socks, not to mention, the daily intake of blood warming liquor. From there, they took a taxi to Reykjavík City where Nina booked them into a small motel where they could stay overnight. There was a quaint, white building with those lumpy walls one would expect of a structure erected in the previous century with bulging rocks and untrimmed beams of wood.
Their accommodation was at the small house behind it, just peeking from the driveway. Brightly painted in red and green, the roof was also green to compliment the posts of the porch, upon which several large wooden benches boasted embroidered cushions made by the owner’s wife.
After an unsuccessful dinner, Nina retired to her room in alarming haste, assuring the men that she was just very tired, even though she slept for most of the time on the plane. Her male companions noticed that her tone was subdued under shortness of breath and she constantly excused herself to go to the ladies room.
“We have to get her something for that fatigue,” Eldard said as he sipped the last of his beer, trying to sound unassuming. Sam leaned forward on his elbows and spoke as quietly as possible.
“Did you look up her symptoms?” he asked the big tattoo artist.
He nodded, sinking his chin and looked at them, “I think it is Arsenic Trioxide they planted in her.”
Sam felt his heart sink and Gunnar cleared his throat before asking, “How would they slow release it without feeding it to her every day, then?”
“You saw that surgical method they used. Remember, we are not dealing with gay plastic surgeons with a penchant for branding pretty women with infamous symbology, pal,” Eldard said, thrusting the point of his index finger on the table with conviction. “These are the sickest Nazi motherfuckers of the lot. They have inexhaustible quantities of chemicals that the world’s best scientists had never even heard of. You are talking about people who have the knowledge to twist physics and alter genetic make-up as if they’re making toast.”
Sam poured another shot of the local fire water and downed it. He caught his breath and shook his head wildly from the bitter aftertaste, then asked, “What is your take on the release of it, if you can think like them?”
“I think they engineered a biological gel or something similar, containing a lethal amount of arsenate, which would bond to her tissue,” Eldard speculated. “That disk of flat skin? I think they smeared that stuff on the flesh under it and replaced the skin to seal it in. And ever since, small particles of it would be assimilated through tissue and blood, slowly poisoning her to death.”
Sam felt sick; it was all one living nightmare. He was about to lose Nina, he was plagued by a mickey from hell that had him running from rabid dogs and she-males in his sleep and if he did not put out soon, it would literally be the end of the world.
“That’s me for the night, lads,” he said suddenly, shoving his leftover beer toward the center of the table. They lifted their bottles in a salute and he went upstairs. When he passed Nina’s room, he could hear her throwing up, but he decided not to disturb her. Now that he had some idea of what was coursing through her bloodstream, he would figure out a way to find her treatment while they raced the enemy to Valhalla.
Lethargic from the day’s travel, the alcohol and the ever-present vile elixir Sam, fell on the bed in the dark room. The lantern outside cast some light in through the window, but other than the square projected on his bed and floor, there was nothing but shadows and shapes around him when he closed his eyes. He did not even bother to undress to get into bed, just kicking off his shoes and shedding his jacket, and before he could gather the pillow to lay his head upon he fell into a deep sleep.
Nightmare after nightmare hounded him, from the ice of Wolfenstein to the hell of the U-boats. Then he would fall from tall buildings or be trapped under a thin sheet of ice while Nina watched from above. Then she would drop to her knees on the window of ice between them so that he could get a closer look at her flesh falling from her bones while he drowned in the frigid water underneath. All the while, he would hear the horses from Walhalla running, neighing deep in his mind. As the water engulfed him again and again, Sam felt the sensation of hands reaching inside his mouth and prying his jaws apart.
Suddenly, he awoke with a jolt of adrenaline so strong that he almost fell off the bed. Nervously touching his open mouth, Sam realized that it had been just another score of nightmares plaguing him once more. But in the dark of the room, something stirred in the corner between the cupboard and the wall. It was enormous and faintly luminous, while the awful echo of the horses remained in Sam’s ears. He was certain that he was awake, but the horses would not relent in their wailing and scoffing.
From the shadows, it emerged as Sam sat up on the bed and retreated up against the headboard. Before him, mildly glowing, stood a horse. It was missing both coat and flesh, eyes and mane. Entirely made of bone, the skeletal animal pawed the wooden floor repeatedly with its left front hoof. Louder and louder it became, until Sam had to plug his ears with his fingertips. It dipped its head into a large, coppery bowl that bore ornate etchings and runes. There were four of these around the glowing horse and the row of bowls prevented the horse from progressing towards Sam.