Chapter V: Tirfing

"Mid the battle gear saw he a blade triumphant,

old sword of Eotens, with edge of proof,

warrior's heirloom, weapon unmatched,

-- save only 'twas more than other men

to bandy-of-battle could bear at all--

as the giants had wrought it, ready and keen.

Seized then its chain-hilt the Scylding's chieftain,

bold and battle-grim, brandished the sword,

reckless of life."

- Beowulf

It was warmer then usual in Italy. Mary, Will and their dæmons (though nobody could see Mary's) were warm but satisfied when they entered the classy hotel in uptown Rome. Mary had thought that perhaps a vacation would be the right thing to cheer Will up and since her economic status had risen severely since that day Lyra came barging into her laboratory, due to some interesting "discoveries" she had made regarding certain sub-atomic particles, she could easily afford it. To her delight she found that Will started to come out of his dark mood.

Must be all the sun, she thought as she checked in. "There," she said when she signed the guestbook.

"Good," said the friendly receptionist in broken English. "Ah, I am sorry, Singorina Malone, but we do not allow pets at this hotel."

"Pets? What do you mean?"

"I mean that your cat…"

"We do not have a cat."

"You do not have a cat."

Mary had to smile. Sometimes the oldest tricks were the best. After her meeting with Serafina Pekkala her slumbering power had been awakened and started to develop. She was not a witch, not yet anyway, but she knew enough to make her life considerably easier. The blank look in the receptionist's face disappeared.

"What was I saying?" he wondered, slightly dazed.

"You were going to give me the key," Mary helped him out.

"Oh, sì!" he said and handed her the room-key. "Room 206. Have a pleasant stay."

"Thank you," Mary said. "Oh, and by the way, what were those people outside across the street doing? It looked like they were digging something."

"Sì, an archaeological dig. Apparently they discovered an old series of catacombs deep under the ground while repairing a gas-leak. It is not unusual in a city as old and with such a rich cultural heritage as ours. One can't put a shovel into the ground without finding something. But don't worry, they have assured us that they will not pose a disturbance to our guests."

"Interesting," Mary said. "Well, we better get to our room. Will?"

"Coming," Will said. "By the way, how old did you say those catacombs were?"

"From the time of the late Roman Empire, I think," the receptionist said.

"Oh, thanks," Will nodded and followed his friend.

The receptionist looked at the young man. When he stepped into the elevator a large, black cat quickly slipped in between the closing doors and settled close to his legs. The friendly Italian frowned, as if he tried to remember something. He shrugged, assured himself that it was nothing important, and turned around just in time to fire a smile at the potential guests who had just entered the lobby.

Later that night Will awoke in his comfortable hotel-bed. The room was dark and the pale moonlight shone in through the window. Not knowing exactly what had awakened him, he sat up in the bed and felt the warm Italian night surround him.

It had been a fun day. Mary had taken him to see the different attractions Rome had to offer. The Coliseum, the Pantheon and all the wonderful buildings and statues. Shopping in large stores as well as small, peculiar shops. Eating good and interesting food. Yes, it had been a great day, and a tiring one. Therefore, he was amazed that he was wide-awake. He could recall no dream, neither nightmare nor pleasant one. The clock showed 04:00. Will looked around in search for the cause of his awakening.

Kirjava was sitting at the end of his bed, staring straight into the moon. She was silent and still as a statue, bathing in the cold light. Will looked at her. She seemed to be listening to something that his ears could not perceive.

"Kirjava?" he whispered, afraid to wake Mary, who was sleeping in the room next to his. "Kirjava, what are you doing?"

The dæmon slowly turned her head to face him. Her eyes were wide open and her pupils were wide and dark, like the eyes of a cat always are in darkness. They were gleaming in the moonlight as she stared at him with a strangely blank look on her feline face.

"Will," she whispered back. "Can… can you hear it?"

"Hear what?" Will asked.

"Listen!" Kirjava said and quickly moved her head as if trying to catch a fleeting echo of a sound in the night. Will listened. At first he couldn't hear anything, but then it came, so quietly and gently that he almost did not notice it in the beginning. A low, changing sound, like a drawn out sigh from a forgotten grave somewhere, reached his ears. As he listened, it grew is strength. A low, incoherent mumbling of whispering voices, like a fragment of a song from a half-forgotten dream, endlessly replaying itself.

"Yes," will said. "Yes, I hear it."

"It is calling us!" Kirjava said. Will could hear it now. Ghostly voices speaking in a language he did not know. Was it even a language? He didn't care, for the meaning was clear to him.

Come to us... Come to us... You are the one...

Mary was awakened by someone tugging her blanket. She opened her sleepy eyes and noticed a large bird standing on top of her.

"Melchior?" she asked, genuinely surprised. Her dæmon had been able to take physical form at her command for short periods of time, but this was the first time he had done without her help. "What is it?"

"It's Will and Kirjava," Melchior said. "Something is controlling him! Some sort of unknown force!"

The large bird barely had the time to fly out of the way before Mary had rushed up from her bed and over to the other room. Will's bed was empty. "Where did they go?" she asked.

"They just left," Melchior said. "I don't know where they are heading."

Mary quickly examined the room. "His clothes are missing. He took the time to get dressed, at least. Check the window!"

Melchior flew over to the Window. "I see them! They just left the building!"

"Can you see where they are heading?" Mary asked, fighting to get her clothes on as fast as humanly possible.

"It looks like he is on his way to the archaeological dig," Melchior answered.

"Dammit!" Mary cursed. "What are you up to, Will?"

Will and Kirjava quickly made their way out of the hotel and across the street. The hotel personnel scarcely noticed, since they had nothing to do with how their guests spent their nights. They stopped and made sure they were far enough from the archaeological dig. Will Turned to Kirjava. "You have better hearing then I. Do you hear anyone?"

"Hard to tell with all these cars," Kirjava responded. "But… wait, I hear two people. Men, coming out of the dig. They are speaking Italian, I think."

Will studied the dig, a large hole in the sidewalk, illuminated by the lampposts and moonlight. He could still hear the voices calling him.

"We need to get past them," he said.

"Are you sure we are doing the right thing?" Kirjava asked. "Following voices in our heads in the middle of the night seems a bit crazy, don't you think?"

Will had to snicker. "Yes, it does sound crazy, but it feels like the right thing to do. At least we're not hypnotised. Now, let's figure out a way to get past those men."

"I could sneak around into an ally and make some noise. Then when they go to look you sneak by."

"Sounds simple enough. Let's do it."

Being a cat, Kirjava was a natural expert in sneaking. Will, being a human, was not, but he had had years of training in being quiet and unnoticeable and once you've learned how to move as silently as possible it's usually there for a long time. Kirjava hurried away while Will as close as he could without being noticed. He could hear the men talking now, though he didn't understand what they were saying. Suddenly a loud crashing sound was heard nearby, and Will understood that Kirjava had completed her part of the plan.

"Che cosa era quello?" one of the men said. They both walked into the ally nearby to see what had cause the ruckus. Will hurried to move over to the dig, dodging the rope fence and ignoring the signs declaring that he should stay out, and started to climb down the ladder in the hole. He stopped climbing after a few steps and listened.

"Appena un gatto."

"Chi si preoccupa? Sto andando a casa ora ottenere un certo sonno."

"Così."

He heard their footsteps coming closer. He held his breath. To his great joy, they seemed to be heading away from him. He heard a car start and drive away. The moment after that he saw Kirjava's familiar face against the dark sky above him.

"Don't just stand there, help me get down this thing!" she pleaded.

Will climbed back up and took Kirjava with his left hand. Holding her steadily towards his he climbed down again.

The catacombs were ancient and dank. The smell of millennia-old air and dust was everywhere, Illuminated only by strains of electric lights attached to the walls through the complex. Will could not understand how a place so large could have remained hidden for so long.

But above all other impressions the place gave him were the voices, never pausing in their endless chant. Their voices sounded stronger and more eager for each step he took into the catacombs.

Come to us… It is your destiny… Come to us… Come to us now…

It guided him throughout the ancient tunnels with supernatural precision, past graves with skeletons covered in dust and cobwebs, deeper into the unknown.

Suddenly he stopped. There was a wall before. Just an ordinary wall, no symbols or writings, just a very old and dusty wall.

"Strange," he mumbled. "There shouldn't be a wall here."

He suddenly realised that he heard footsteps nearby. He reacted too late and felt a strong, bony hand take a solid grip around his arm.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Will turned his head. The voice and the hand belonged to a small man with glasses and a grey beard. Will guessed that he was an archaeologist working late. He struggled not to panic and Kirjava hissed from within the darkness.

"I… I…" Will's mind raced, but before he had the time to come up with a way to escape, a familiar shape made her way around the corner and walked up to him. She was, apparently, very upset.

"William Parry!" she said. "I hope you have a really good explanation for this or I'll make you wish you were never…"

"Excuse me!" the archaeologist said. "But since I am the only one of us actually allowed to be here, I would like to know what is going!"

"First things first," Mary said. "Would you kindly let go of my nephew?"

The old man gave Will an angry look before doing so. Mary nodded. "Good. Let us now introduce ourselves. I am Dr Mary Malone and this is my nephew William Parry."

"Dr Rolf Lindh," the man responded. He now took a closer look at Mary. "Dr Malone, eh? I've heard of you, but I was under the impression that you were a physicist. Care to explain your new-found interest in the archaeological field?"

"That was my fault altogether, Dr Lindh," Will said. He was beginning to realise exactly how big trouble he was in, but he still felt the strange voices calling him. "I apologise. By the way, did you know there is a hidden room behind the wall?"

The confused doctor stared at the wall Will was pointing at. "A hidden room? How on Earth can you know that? Are you sure?"

"Take a look for yourself," Will said and quickly grabbed a nearby shovel. Before Mary or the doctor could stop him he gave the wall a few good blows with it. The almost millennia-old wall crumbled and fell in a cloud of dust.

"Helvete!" Dr Lindh shouted. "What the hell do you think you are doing, kid? Have you any idea what you could have… could have…" he was silenced by the sight that lay before him. As the dust settled a dark chamber was revealed in front of them.

"Good Lord!" Lindh whispered.

"Told you," Will said.

Now the voices were no longer whispering; they were screaming at him, shouting, calling him.

…come to us you must come to us come to us come to us you must come to us now!

Will stepped into the chamber, followed by Mary and Dr Lindh, who had just ignited a flashlight. The soft light filled the tomb, spilling on the ancient wall full of spider-webs. The air was even older then the air in the rest of the catacombs. The chamber was decorated with mosaics and carvings, unlike the other harsh tunnels they had seen up till then.

In the centre of the room there was a sarcophagus made out of stone.

"Incredible!" Lindh said. "Whoever is buried here, he must have been a very special person."

Will turned to Mary. "Do you hear it, Mary?" he asked.

Mary nodded. "Yes," she said, quietly. "But there is something wrong, Will. Something terribly wrong!"

Will turned to the large stone casket. "Perhaps, but I must know."

He put his hand on the dusty stone.

…come to us come to us come to us come to us come to us come to us…

"What is he doing?" Dr Lindh asked. Mary held her hand up to quiet him.

Will put both his hand on the heavy lid of the sarcophagus and pushed. It moved a little. He tried again, trying harder this time. It moved enough for him to look inside.

A human skeleton, dressed in what must once have been fantastic garment. Gold and jewellery and… a sword. Laying upon the skeletons since long broken chest, the bony hands still clutching the hilt. Will knew that this was what he had come for. He slowly reached into the sarcophagus. The voices cried higher the closer his hand came to sword, until he could hear nothing else.

…come to us you must come you need us we need you come to us COME TO US! COME TO US!!!

And then his fingers touched the golden hilt. The voices disappeared. For a minute he though he had gone deaf, but then he heard the breathing of the others. Even Dr Lindh could only stare at him.

Will carefully removed the skeletons hand from the hilt. The hand fell apart as he touched it, but he cared not. He grabbed the hilt and carefully lifted it from its place.

He saw now that it was placed in a leather scabbard. How the scabbard had survived throughout the years he could not even guess. He took it in his other hand, the one missing two fingers, and pulled the sword out. A soft but high tone rang throughout the otherwise silent tomb. Will stared at the weapon.

It was broad, but not that long. It was lighter then it seemed and well balanced, so he could hold it comfortably in one hand. The polished blade shimmered and shone, as if it had an inner light. There was not a spot of rust on it. Runes he could not read decorated the inside of the blood-gore.

"My Lord!" Dr Lindh said and came closer. "I have never seen anything like that. May I…?"

Will hesitated for a moment, but the placed the sword in the hand of the archaeologist. Dr Lindh held it in the ray of the flashlight, examining the blade.

"Let me see," he said. "This isn't right! This is not a Roman sword, it's Scandinavian! But this tomb is a thousand years old, and this looks like it was made yesterday." He squinted his eyes and tried to read the runes. "Let's see here. T-I-R-F…"

He stopped, and the checked it again. His hands started shacking. "It can't be!"

Finally, he could not hold on to it anymore. He dropped in on the floor, and it hit it with the point first. Without a sound the entire blade sank into the stone, stopping at the handgaurd with a soft click! Everyone in the room, even Kirjava, stared in disbelief.

"The legend is true!" Dr Lindh breathed. "It is Tirfing! Tirfing, the Dwarf Blade!"

As in a dream, Will bent down and took the hilt. He pulled the sword up again and noticed that it left a perfect blade-shaped hole in the floor. He made a slow swing with it, cutting straight through the one of the corners on the sarcophagus. Will didn't even feel any resistance as the blade severed the chunk of stone from the rest of the object. It immediately fell off. Will lifted his damaged hand to touch the flat side of the blade. It seemed to shine even more now.

"It's another one," he whispered.

"Will," Mary said, for she immediately knew what he was thinking. "Don't do it!"

Will looked at her with sad eyes. "I have to, Mary. You know I do."

He held the sword in front of him slowly letting the blade sweep through the air. He tried to find the small hacks that he had used when wielding the Knife, but found nothing. He tried once again, but with the same results. He spirits sank, and he almost gave up. But then he gained new will and he concentrated all of his willpower on the blade. He felt a strange sensation, as if part of him actually entered the metal. The glow inside it was brighter now, bright enough to see with the naked eye. Will drew a deep breath and made a final cut.

A glowing portal opened, and suddenly a window had formed. A hole through the worlds, perfect and flawless. On the other side he saw a forest drenched in moonlight.

"We did it," he said. "Kirjava, we did it!"

"Let us go!" the cat said. "There is no time to loose!"

"Will," Mary said. "Please…"

"I will return," Will said and looked at her. "I promise."

Then he stepped through. Kirjava took a leap through the portal, following him. It immediately closed behind her, and Mary found herself alone in the dark chamber with Dr Lindh. The archaeologist seemed to shocked to speak at first, but soon he got over it. "Did you see that! The boy just disappeared! Where did he go?"

"To another world, I suppose," Mary said. She was naturally very worried for her young friend, but realised that she probably should make Dr Lindh forget about this incident and then figure out what to do later.

"But…" Lindh said as Mary summoned her will to tap into his brain. "That was Tirfing! He can't use that sword!"

Mary let it go. "What did you say?"

"I… I said he can't use it," Lindh repeated. "At least not without putting himself at great risk."

"And why exactly is that?" Mary asked. She could now feel a cold shiver running down her spine.

"Because there is a curse of blood on that blade," the doctor said. "That is, if the legend is true."

"Would you mind telling me exactly what "curse of blood" means?" Mary asked. She decided that she disliked the entire situation the more she learned about it.

"Well, my Norse mythology isn't what it once was," Lindh began. "But for what I know, it started way back in the early Viking-era. A man named Suaforlami was the king of Gårdarike, which is what is now Russia. One day he rode out on a hunting trip. He sought the whole day for a hart, but couldn't find any. When the sun was setting he found himself immersed so deep in the forest that he did not know where he was. Suddenly he happened to come across two dwarves. Drawing his sword against them, he forced the towards a rock and threatened to kill them. They asked him to spare their lives in return for a ransom. He asked them their names, and learned that they were the brothers Dyren and Dualin. He knew that the dwarves were the best bladesmiths in the world, and he also knew that Dyren and Dualin were the best among the dwarves. Therefore he forced them to swear that they would forge him a sword unlike any other, a weapon that would cut through stone and steel with ease, a blade the would never break and would never yield to a shield or armour. The dwarves had no other choice but to accept these conditions.

On the appointed day Suaforlami returned and the dwarves delivered the sword. The king found that it was indeed as powerful as the had requested, and gave it the name Tirfing."

"Let me guess," Mary said dryly. "The dwarves had a little surprise for him?"

"They had indeed," Dr Lindh said. " They were bitter and greedy, and proclaimed that the sword would be the bane of all who live, that it should forever sow strife in the hearts of men. Suaforlami fought in great battles, but was himself slain by a berserker named Andgrim, who passed it on to his son. The sword changed owners multiple times, and wherever its bearer journeyed, death walked close behind. Throughout the legend, everyone who so much as laid his or her hand on the Tirfing has turned into cold-blooded murderers! There are two incidents were the owner kills his own brother, one were it is the best friends who is slain, one son, one father-in-law and a whole bunch of innocents who just happened to be standing there."

"So what are you saying?" Mary said. "That Will is also going to go mad and start killing people?"

"I don't know!" the archaeologist said. " I'm a scientist! I know nothing about magic or witchcraft! That's just what the legend says! Look, the Vikings weren't the most peaceful people the world has ever seen. Their entire religion was built on the belief that dying in combat was the only sure way of avoiding an eternity in Hel. For crying out loud, their version of Heaven was nothing more then eating, drinking and fighting in all eternity, right down to the end of the world! Perhaps this boy is affected otherwise, or not affected at all. We can only speculate."

"But what happened to the sword, then?" Mary asked.

"Well, the last recorded owner of the Tirfing was named Angantyr, son of King Heidreker. He bore it in battle against the Huns and did great slaughter, but among the slain was his own brother, Laudur. After that, no one knows what happened to the blade."

"I think I can take a wild guess," Mary said. "Angantyr was himself slain by the Huns, and Tirfing ended up in the hands of one of their warriors. Later, perhaps when Attila attacked Rome, it ended up with that bloke over there, who saw to it that it was buried with him."

"Something like that," Lindh said. "Now, could you please explain to me why that boy disappeared?"

Mary sighed. "Sure. Look into my eyes, please."

A few minutes later Mary had returned to the hotel and Rolf Lindh's only memory of the incident was finding the hidden chamber and opening the sarcophagus. There was not a trace of her, Will or the sword in his memory.

Mary threw herself on the bed, not really knowing what to do.

"Damn!" she said. "I should have stopped him. This is not good, I can feel it!"

She suddenly realised that her friend had really left their world again. She was all alone now.

Note: Alright! Finally some action! I should warn you, by the way, that the rest of the story is going to be way more Fantasy then Sci-Fi, in contrast to the original trilogy, which was more Sci-Fi then Fantasy (think Narnia for comparison). Don't look at me like that! These things happen! Anyway, I hope I'll manage to get some elements of that steampunkish anachronism we all love from HDM into this story as well.

The Italian in this chapter was provided by the Altavista Babel Fish. I hope it is all correct.