Herleif leaned up against a cart that had been brought over to transport the prisoners back to their ships at Eitrivatnen and watched as the Lion Flame led the newly rescued workers out of the mine. They were all covered in dark dust, haggard-looking, and wary of everyone around. All of them were men, old and young, bent-backed and slow-moving after months of hard labor, but they were alive and, for the most part, looked unharmed.
The group of women already liberated by Ragna and Skuld were there to greet them as they stepped out into the daylight, giving a great cry of relief to see their friends and loved ones alive. Whatever stony-faced resilience the men tried to hold onto quickly melted away once they saw the wives and daughters they had been separated from, rushing forward to meet them as the Lion Flame stood guard over their reunion. The Northmen were too busy to pay them any mind, getting the thralls ready for travel, along with any food, weapons, or meager treasure they were able to get their hands on as the fortress was searched from top to bottom. When not rejoicing in their freedom from their fanatical oppressors, the villagers of Cinder Mill looked about and eyed the Vikings warily, forever suspicious of these northern monsters that they had been taught to hate and fear for generations.
Herleif watched as a big man with a shaggy gray beard and strong arms embraced two women who looked to be his wife and daughter, the latter of whom surprisingly held a Peacekeeper's sword and dagger in her hands. The big man caught him looking and scowled angrily, moving around his family to protect them behind his bulk.
Herleif simply smiled and waved, amused at how the man scowled at him even harder.
"Quite the ungrateful lot," he chuckled to Skuld, who stood with him and, of course, said nothing. "I suppose they are still a bit shaken. Maybe they will warm to us by the time we get all the heads stuck up on the wall?" he laughed.
Skuld looked at him, blinking once with those vibrant blue eyes that seemed to always look through him and into his soul, then uttered a single word. "Chaldeon."
Herleif stared back at her for a moment, blinked, and then shot up from the side of the cart. "Goat shit! I nearly forgot! Come, we must find Gunnar and that blasted Conqueror and see what has become of them."
"Jarl Herleif!" someone called out from the mine's entrance, and Herleif turned to see Marcelo coming toward them at a quick pace, waving his hand for their attention. "Jarl Herleif! Lady Judith wishes to see you in the mine!"
Herleif gave an agitated groan, his shoulders sagging. "It never ends with this woman," he muttered to Skuld, who simply shrugged before he called to Marcelo. "Can it wait?"
Marcelo shook his head. "We have found something you will want to see!"
Unsure of just how urgently this little mystery needed to be dealt with, Herleif bid Skuld to go after his brother and find out what had become of Vincent Chaldeon while he followed Marcelo into the mountain. The path quickly grew dark as they made their way further down the mine, and the clamor outside soon gave way to the oppressing silence of rock until finally, they came upon a soldier holding a torch, but for some reason, was standing far away from where Judith was. She stood alone at the edge of the torchlight next to a small table that her eagle-crested helmet sat upon and was examining a crate stacked high with what looked to be small orbs. When she noticed them approaching, she picked up one of the orbs and tossed it to Herleif.
"Catch it, or we all might die here," she said with a smile as the nearly unseen object soared through the air.
"Frigg's tits, woman. What is it?" Herleif gasped. He wasn't laughing as he nearly fumbled the orb when it bounced off one hand and then the other, and he heard Marcelo bite back a cry of fear before he finally caught hold of the thing.
It was small enough to fit in the palm of one hand, and he might have mistaken it as a child's ball if it hadn't been made of clay. He turned it over, examining its smooth surface. It had a small opening at the top that was stuck with a cork and sealed tight with something sticky. The cork had a single dark and coarse string coming from the top, coming through it, he realized, just like a fuse. He brought it close and sniffed, his nose overwhelmed by the powerful odor of sulfur.
"Black powder. Is this a bomb?" he asked in surprise. Turning it over again, he saw in the flickering light the Wu Lin symbols on the orb's smooth surface in yellow paint.
"Another weapon, or tool, in this case. Courtesy of our newest arrival to Heathmoor by the look of it," Judith said, picking up another bomb and examining it.
"You tin wench," Herleif chuckled despite himself, still turning the bomb he held over in his hands. "One wrong move, and you could have truly killed us all."
"I thought it was funny," she shrugged, not noticing how Marcelo stiffened nervously nearby. "I wonder if they were making these here at the forge or where they got the powder from?"
"Or what they were using them for?" Herleif added.
"On that, I have a hunch." Judith bid the soldier with the torch to come closer while still keeping clear of the crate stacked full of bombs and had them shine their light into the tunnel beyond.
Herleif looked up, finding only a solid wall of stone not far in front of him. "This looks to be as far as they got," he said, staring open-mouthed as he took in the gouged surface of scarred rock. "Look, you can see where they have already dug out some of the ore from this vein. This mountain must be full of iron used for the forge."
"Not dug," Judith corrected, holding up the bomb in her hand, "blasted."
Herleif frowned in puzzlement. "I will admit, our fire-flasks would never be able to do something such as this. And not even the bombs you Knights use are powerful enough to blast away enough rock to dig a mine. What makes you think that these are any different?"
Judith placed the bomb she held back in the crate with the others. "The weapon that the Pyre used on their ships as we sailed across Lake Eitrivatnen was incredibly powerful, the likes of which I have never seen. The few that we found still docked at the harbor were marked with Wu Lin script similar to this. Whatever craft the Pyre has stolen from the Wu Lin to make these weapons, it is better than our own. Even Erik had his men scouring the city trying to find any trace of its origin, but as far as I know, he found nothing."
Herleif's jaw tightened as he remembered Erik's warriors marching all over Eitrivatnen, searching every building without pause. Searching for something he perhaps had no intention of sharing.
"Is that what he was looking for?" he growled in realization. "That greedy bastard."
"Were you not aware?" Judith asked in surprise.
At first, Herleif's gut instinct was to say that he did know and not look like a fool in front of Judith. But he realized his first remark gave away his ignorance entirely, and he would be a fool anyway if he tried to deny it now.
"No, he did not deign to share this news with me. How did you come to know of this?"
"Erik interrogated me on the matter, of course, as if I am privy to every secret meeting and scheme that goes on in Ashfeld simply because I am a Knight. But sadly, I am in the dark on this just as much as you are," she said.
"Are you sure?"
Judith paused and looked at him for a moment, eyes narrowing. "If I had known anything about the Pyre's weapon at all, I would have shared that information before we sailed across the lake together on the same boats."
Herleif knew she had a point, but he still wondered why no one seemed to know where these weapons had come from. "Hmm… We should interrogate the prisoners, see if they know anything." He turned the bomb around in his hand once more, feeling the weight as he gave it a leisurely toss, which made Marcelo flinch before he caught it. "Wu Lin magic. What dark seiðr have they brought to our lands now?"
"It is simply alchemy. Anyone can learn it with teaching and practice," Judith said.
"All the more reason to fear it," he retorted. "So what do we do with these now? Light a few and sabotage the forge?
Judith nodded. "That, and perhaps take a few with us. They might come in handy at the Walled City."
"Is that wise, Commander?" interjected Marcelo, offering his opinion that no one asked for. "It could be dangerous to transport them. There is no telling what kind of damage they might do if something goes wrong."
"Come now, Marcelo. Where is your sense of adventure?" Judith smiled. "It is impossible to get anywhere in life without a little risk."
Herleif shook his head and laughed. "Perhaps a little test is in order?" he grinned, tossing the bomb he held back to Judith. "What do you say? Shall we see for ourselves how much fire it takes to hollow out a mountain?"
Judith nodded as she caught the bomb, the clay orb making a loud clunk in her gauntlet that echoed down the tunnel. Marcelo openly winced at the sound.
"Would you two please stop doing that?" he begged.
Back outside of the tunnel, the villager who had glared at Herleif was able to confirm that they had been using the small Wu Lin bombs to blast further into the mountain for ore, but he could say nothing of where they came from.
Herleif suggested that he be the one to light a bomb for the test, but the man outright refused, claiming that the bombs could be unpredictable and likely to blow up as soon as the fire touched the fuse rather than burn slowly with enough time for escape. Several villagers had been lost in such incidents, and Judith would not allow Herleif to force the man into doing a test for them.
They had tried to force one of the new thralls to do it next, threatening to beat or kill the lot of them if they refused. In the end, a Pyre Conqueror volunteered but ultimately turned against them when he tried to run at his captors with the bomb once he was given a torch to light it with. Luckily, three quick arrows struck him down before he could light the fuse, but Herleif regarded this as his worst idea of the day and opted not to try again with another thrall.
Eventually, Ragnar was called upon as the only one brave enough, or foolish enough, in Marcelo's opinion, to go into the tunnel and light a bomb himself. To his credit, Ragnar was more than willing to take on this dangerous task without complaint. Crates, barrels, and carts had all been brought and situated to create a barrier to hide behind and watch the blast far enough from the mine's entrance. Or at least it was thought that they were far enough away. There were some who had their doubts.
"This is insane," Marcelo muttered as he watched Ragnar disappear into the mine with a single bomb, the light of his torch lingering until it, too, was swallowed up by the darkness. "The man is going to get himself killed."
"Lucky bastard," Ragna grunted, frowning over the crate she and Helge stood behind. It was full of weapons that they said had been 'rescued' from the keep, and even though Marcelo told them it was a bad idea to have so many sharp objects sitting idle next to the blast zone, they simply refused to let it be taken out of sight. "What a way to go to Valhǫll, swallowed up in fire. I'm fucking jealous if I'm being honest." Helge snickered as she stood just in front of her, having to stand on her tiptoes and pull herself up to see over the barricade.
"Surely you do not mean such a thing?" Marcelo said aghast. "This is your brother's life on the line."
Ragna sniffed, spat at the ground, and shrugged. "Eh, we all have our time."
Marcelo shook his head and touched his hand to his head, shoulders, and chest in the shape of a cross. "Well, I, for one, will pray for his safe return, even if no one else will."
"Why? Upset that he didn't leave you with a parting kiss?" Ragna grinned, and Helge puckered her lips and made an obnoxious kissing sound in his direction.
"I have not the slightest idea what you mean," Marcelo said, but even with his helmet on, the heat from his blushing cheeks could practically be felt through the metal. "I am merely concerned for a friend. One whom I have no qualms showing open concern for in this frightful and frankly ill-conceived endeavor."
Ragna shook her head and smiled, wrapping her arms around Helge's shoulders and peering back toward the tunnel. "So you say, pretty man. So you say."
Marcelo glanced at her only to lock eyes with Helge instead, who winked and slowly ran her tongue along her bare teeth as she smiled at him. He promptly looked back to the tunnel and did not address them again.
Herleif watched this all happen from where he stood beside Judith and sighed. "Is it like raising children for you as well?"
"All the time," Judith answered without looking away from the tunnel.
He shook his head and went back to waiting for any sign of Ragnar rushing out of the tunnel, but the sound of footsteps from behind him caught his attention instead. Turning about, he found Skuld approaching through the gathered crowd with Gunnar, Coal, and Priscilla trailing behind. It wasn't until that moment that Herleif realized he had given no thought to the Peacekeeper and her whereabouts during the battle and immediately felt a growing sense of dread to find her with his brother now. Wherever the woman went, things just seemed to get more complicated.
"What of Chaldeon?" he called out to Gunnar, not seeing the golden-armored Lawbringer anywhere, which only served to unsettle him even more. Gunnar hung his head as he stepped forward, licked his lips, and looked about from Herleif to Judith and everyone else around. That look alone was enough to turn Herleif's heart to ice.
"He's dead," Gunnar said, dropping the news between them like a heavy stone.
Silence fell between them. Even though the words had just been said, there was a part of Herleif that didn't want to believe them. "Dead?" he croaked. "What do you mean dead? How? Why? What happened?"
"There was a fight. We tried to take him alive, as you said, but he gave us no choice." Gunnar shifted his weight on his feet, showing that same childish awkwardness he always did when in trouble. Usually, Herleif took it as a sign to ease up on his brother, to look past whatever mistakes had been made and move forward- this time, he did not.
"Baldur be cursed to Hel!" he roared, turning about to slam his fist into the makeshift barrier before rounding on his brother again. "What happened, Gunnar? Do not come to me saying that was a fight! I knew that there would be a fight, that is why I sent you of all people in the first place! Do not-" He stopped as his eyes darted between Gunnar and the two Knights with him, Coal and Priscilla, who were always together whenever things went wrong. "Do not tell me that the three of you could not take Chaldeon alive! And do not act as if you were not all there together! I will not believe it! Now tell me what happened!?"
"He was a big fucking bastard!" Gunnar snarled back, trying to remain strong against Herleif's anger, and put himself before Coal and Priscilla. "He was strong. Stronger than we thought. There was nothing we could do but take him down in the end."
Herleif didn't hesitate to get right in his brother's face, not caring in the slightest how it might look in front of his warriors, in front of Judith and her Knights, not caring how it looked beneath Óðinn's one eye as he let loose his frustration.
"You are supposed to be a big, strong bastard! You! Gunnar the Bear! Is that not your fucking name?"
"You weren't there!" Gunnar yelled back, his own anger building now.
Herleif didn't back down, didn't give an inch to his brother. "Clearly I should have been! What a fool I was to think I could trust you with this task! Better I had left you back at the ship, or better yet, back in Bilrost with the children rather than have you come to me with excuses! Did you at least learn anything about the armor?"
Gunnar went silent, licking his lips again like a nervous child and glancing at Priscilla for a moment before looking back. Herleif didn't know how it was possible, but he was sure at that moment he saw the look of fear in his brother's eyes. True fear.
"Gunnar, what of Apollyon's armor!?" he shouted.
"I killed Vincent Chaldeon," Priscilla said, her voice sounding small as Herleif and Gunnar bellowed like bulls. "I was the one who ended him."
Herleif's fury switched from Gunnar to Priscilla like the crack of a whip.
"You?" he seethed, taking a threatening step toward her only to be stopped by Gunnar getting in his way. "You killed him? We came all this way on your word, and now, because of you, I must return to Erik empty-handed and looking like a fool? What part of taking him alive did you all not understand!?"
Priscilla crossed her arms over her chest and remained steadfast before Herleif's wrath. "It was kill or be killed. A leader such as you should know that in battle, there are no guarantees."
Herleif felt his anger reaching a boiling point and knew that if he didn't reign himself in, he would surely take the woman's head from her shoulders right there and then. He turned back toward the mine, unable to look at Priscilla without feeling the need to see her tossed from the mountainside, and took a deep breath to try and calm himself.
"When we regroup with the other Jarls," he began, voice wavering as he fought to control his temper, "you will be the one to stand before Erik and tell him what happened here." A hushed silence fell over the group as they all hung onto his words. "You will stand alone, as you alone will bear any punishment he gives for this mess you have made."
Priscilla shifted on her feet, and she gave only the slightest shrug of her shoulders to make it seem as if she were unbothered by this new proclamation. "If that is what you command," she said with no great enthusiasm.
Gunnar, however, grabbed hold of Herleif's shoulder, staring at him wide-eyed. "Brother, you can't. If she brings this news to Erik, he will surely-"
"Who are you to deny my orders?" Herleif snarled, his temper flaring again. "I am your Jarl! And until I say otherwise, she is mine to command as I see fit. Along with any other Knight who fights under my banner!"
Judith stepped forward at that, her gauntleted fists clenched tight. "We may fight beneath your banner, but that does not mean I will let you treat one of my Knights like a sacrificial lamb. The last thing I need is for Erik to order his old watchdog to behead any more of my men."
"And if I sought your opinion, Commander, I would ask for it," Herleif said, sticking a finger in Judith's face. He was overcome with anger, forgetting all sense of brotherhood and camaraderie as he glared at everyone around him. He was so lost in his fury that he didn't notice the distant sound of stomping feet or panting breath coming from the other side of the barricade. "Erik made it perfectly clear that he wanted Chaldeon alive, and he is a man who does not take kindly to being robbed of what he wants!" It angered him more to know just how angry he was getting over this, infuriated by the notion that he must grovel before the Golden Jarl and knowing that he did not have the strength of arms to resist him.
He rounded on Priscilla again, fists clenched tight, and teeth bared. "Always when there is trouble, there you are in the middle of it! I should have listened to Gunnar from the start and brought you before the other Jarls in Eitrivatnen. Let Ivar carve a bloody eagle into your back until you spill all your Loki tricks for us to hear!"
Priscilla took a step away from him but said nothing. She glanced at Gunnar, and he stared back speechless, but Herleif didn't miss how Priscilla reached down to put a hand on the hilt of her dagger. He almost wished that she would just draw it.
The sound of thumping footsteps began to softly echo in the air, soon growing louder, but no one seemed to notice as the argument continued.
"What in God's name are you talking about, Herleif?" Judith asked, looking between him and Priscilla.
Herleif laughed bitterly back at her. "I was willing to overlook the antics of your Peacekeeper back at the harbor, but now she has gone too far. I have half a mind to take her back to Erik in chains rather than-"
Ragnar soared over the stacked crates and barrels, landing hard among them with a heavy thud. He didn't get up again but instead curled into a ball on the ground, eyes squeezed shut and fingertips pressed into his ears. For a moment, they all stared at him in stunned silence until he cracked one eye open to look about as they gawked.
"It's fucking lit, you know!" he exclaimed.
"Troll shit!" Herleif cursed, grabbing Gunnar's shoulder and hauling him down behind the barricade.
"Everybody down!" Judith yelled before dropping beside him.
No sooner had they taken cover did the explosion ring out from the tunnel's entrance in a storm of dust and shooting debris. It blew out of the mine like dragon's breath, covering the yard in the blink of an eye and pelting the barricade with bits of rock, metal ore, and anything else caught in the blast. The ground shook beneath them while they ducked down behind the shaking crates and barrels, hair, fur, and tabards whipped around as the wind roared and the world succumbed to chaos. Then, just as quickly, the world fell back into silence, all except for the endless ringing in their ears that carried on like a banshee's scream.
Slowly, Herleif pushed himself to his feet, legs shaking, and looked out over the barricade. Everything was covered in dust, including him, with crates smashed and chunks of stone littering the ground.
"Thor's balls..." he muttered under his breath, stunned by the destructive power of this Wu Lin magic that the Divine Pyre had simply been using to mine for ore. What would have happened if they had used them at the walls?
"It works!" Ragnar shouted as he popped up from the ground beside him, making Herleif's heart skip a beat or three.
"Does it!?" Herleif shouted back, shaking the dust off of him before reaching down to lift Gunnar onto his feet. "Come on. And you!" he snapped as he saw Priscilla curled up against Coal and peeking out from under his shield. "This is not over! Erik will hear of what happened here… Ragnar! Ragna! Take a few of those bombs and see that this forge never produces Ashfeld swords again. Skuld! Take Helge and load the rest to take with us to the Walled City! Do not make any mistakes!" Gunnar struggled against his grip, but Herleif held onto his arm like an unruly child and refused to let go, not allowing him to return to the Conqueror and Peacekeeper. "Judith! Send the villagers back to Cinder Mill and leave them with what food can be spared, then prepare your Knights to march!"
"Wait! Herleif!" Judith called after him, stumbling on shaky legs as she tried to get up and follow. "The people need to be settled. Their lives have been ravaged… Injuries need to be addressed, and there are dead to be buried!"
Herleif shoved Gunnar forward as he stopped and turned back to Judith. "Leave them! They are no longer our concern. The Walled City awaits, and we shall delay no longer!"
"But Herleif-" Judith implored.
"No!" He stepped in close, stabbing a finger into Judith's chest plate as he snarled. "If they die, it is because your God let them, and I have no more patience for anyone here to give a shit! Now prepare to march!"
The divine fire of Mount Ignis meant nothing to him, but right then, he felt as if the blood of a fire jǫtunn flowed through his veins as his anger burned inside him. He showed his back to Judith, to Priscilla, and all the rest, leaving them to carry out his orders or suffer his wrath.
"We are done here!"