Eric Olafson, Neo Viking Vol. 01

The prospect to trek across the ice with nothing but a sack of soak stones that would not last very long and no weapon to forage for food or defend against Fangsnappers was another way of suicide.

I truly could not feel my legs and had no idea how I actually managed it but I reached the top and the Old man was gone! I dropped the sack. The only place he could have gone was down! I glared over the ledge but as far as I could see there was no shattered body.

"Young Lord may I ask what you are doing there, leaning so close to the dangerous ledge?" A Voice asked.

I turned and the old man stood next to me. "I thought you fell, Old man! I brought your soak stones! Where have you been? There is no place to hide here."

"Silly boy, There are the Halls of course. How can you overlook a Burg so big and yes the door is open!"

I was exhausted and just waved at the bag." There are you soak-stones and now we better get you in. Maybe there is someone inside able to provide you with shoes and a bed till you have to climb down again to meet that cursed clan Chief of yours."

"Yes let us go inside so you can find your bed. It is not much compared to the luxuries a clan chiefs first born is accustomed too, but after climbing these steps up and down I am sure you will find it adequate at least tonight."

He did wear boots now as I suddenly noticed and he no longer limped or walked bend. He still looked old but neither sick nor exhausted." You aren't a Lowman am I right?"

"Did not Odin often use disguises to test other Aseir?"

"The last time I heard a story of the Gods was when I was five and my father killed my mother!" I glared at him and said." You are one of the Faceless I assume."

He did not answer but walked to the open steel door and I followed. Just before I was about to walk through he said." Don't you want to bring the soak stones in?"

I turned back to get the sack and the door closed right behind me, but I heard his voice." Try to stay alive tonight. This door only opens for four hours every day to visitors. If you are alive tomorrow you are allowed inside."

He was lucky he was behind that steel door of his; I would otherwise have tried to twist his head of his thin neck. I was angry and felt like a pawn in a game I had no control.

Grandfather wanted me here; whoever was inside that old place did not. Playing tricks and games with me. There was no way I would survive a night up here. Not that there was an actual night, the light would stay pretty much the same, but the temperatures were below freezing. Not as cold as during Long night but cold enough to kill an unprotected human after extended exposure. The fool I was, I had given that old man my jacket. Helping him with his cursed sack!

I opened it. Indeed there were six oil soaked stones; actually some sort of fossilized plant or animal of Nilfeheim's prehistoric past. I had no tools with me! I arrived here in the same clothing I had left school. No knife, no tools and now even without my Fanger fur vest; there was no way for me to make fire, to light the Stones and release their warmth. I took them out anyway. The sack was tightly woven and from the looks of it made from the old fabric the women on Nilfeheim used to make from the fibers of a sea weed leaf. No one I knew not even on our burg still made fabrics that way and instead used imported fabrics and in town folks like Yngve would even buy their clothing ready made at stores. To my surprise the sack did contain a heavy bladed hunter's knife in a sheath.

Probably to kill myself. I knew how to strike a spark and make fire. This was a skill everyone on Nilfeheim was taught from early on, but there was no way I could get Tyranno oil at these temperatures started with a spark! But I used the knife to cut a hole in the sack and use it as a simple coat my fingers started to get real cold, but the knife was truly razor sharp and I used it to make shave fibers from the sack into fine fluff. It along with a few wrappers of sparkle bright gum I found in my pocket, shredded to fine bits I had enough tinder. Finding a loose suite able rock was more a challenge then I thought but I finally found one not too far from that cursed door and pried it loose from the frozen ground. I almost gave up. I struck the rock with the knife to create sparks. I had seen Greifen do it before and the rock he used looked very much like this rock. I wanted to cry and realized the even colder sensation in my face was from tears, but then a spark lit and it lasted only for an eye blink, I tried again and again one spark fell into the bed of fine shaved dry fibers and bits of wrapper paper, it lingered perhaps a heartbeat longer and one of the fibers turned black, there was a tiny whiff and I smelled it! It was smoke. The sweetest most delicious scent I had ever smelt barely registered in my running nose: Smoke! More carefully than a mother would kiss her new born did I breathe onto the glimmer. It became stronger, my heart jumped. A drop from my nose almost killed my efforts but due to sheer luck it fell next to it, and there it was, a flame. It now spread across the kindling fast and I frantically searched my pockets for anything flammable and I cursed myself not to have done that before. I cut a strip off the sack, it took to the almost dying flame now and now I was able to set it to a soak stone. Hoping it would warm the oil, last long enough to catch and it did!

Hastily I set up two more soak stones huddled as close as I could to them and the mere sight of the orange flames now taking into the soak stones seemed to warm me a little already. In all this I wondered how many boys of my age in the entire galactic Union had to make fire like this to stay warm. I was sure I was the only one and I cursed every bad foul mouth curse I heard from Greifen, but it made me feel better.

"I see the Olafson clan takes great care even their young know pretty much every bad word we have in our language!" The Old man said suddenly standing behind me.

I was so startled by his sudden appearance that I drew the knife, more out of reflex than anything else. "I would have a few choice words for you as well, Old Man. But I promised my Grandfather not to fail him, and I shall not! You play your games then, Old Man, and I will do my best."

"You speak strange for a boy of your age I must say. You kindled my interest. So I say you can come in and I let the other boys clean up out here. You did ruin a perfectly good fiber sack, but then I got your nice Snapper fur vest."

He turned and walked to the now open door again. Then he turned and waved."I said you can come in. Young Olafson."

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Chapter 8: Tyranno Fin Stew

I tried to get up and managed but I was stiff as a frozen snapper fur in Longnight, I was more sore than I realized and colder than I ever was. This time he let me get in. The door led into a short tunnel shaped corridor passing through the tall massive rock wall. Judging by the length of the tunnel, the walls must have been at least 10 meters thick. The steel door swung close behind us, making absolutely no sound as it did. Two boys perhaps my age, wearing dark long fur coats were behind the door pushing it into the frame. The Old man walked on and I followed onto a huge court yard, the wind was as cold here as outside, but there was no snow. A group of different aged boys pushed brooms at one end of it, revealing the reason why there was no snow.

The old man kept a brisk pace and approached a smaller stone house leaning against the mountain side wall of the burg. Across the yard a tall building with arched windows and what appeared to be at least twenty meters tall double doors. He pointed at it with his flat hand. "The Halls of Hasvik! Sacred, huge and as cold as this world, very impressive and that hall has lots of polished stone floors that must be cleaned and polished every day. Would you like to polish those floors?"

"Old Man I will do what you ask me to do, as long as I can raise a hand or lift a finger I will try, I gave my word. It matters not what I want or like, it never has in all my life why should this place be any different."

"You do sound very bitter for a boy going on to be fourteen."

"Well you sure are good at guessing my age, Old Man. So show me where the mop is or the broom or whatever is used to clean that stone floor and I will start."

"You would start in your condition right now? You didn't ask me for food or a bed or anything."

"I never ask for anything. I would not get it anyway. So why be disappointed. I simply accept whatever you deem to be my labor or punishment or whatever you call it and abide my time."

"You are actually surprisingly wise for a young whelp, in a fatalistic sort of way of course."

"I think I will accept you. Let us go inside and things you want do matter. It is one of lives greatest challenges to find out what one really wants."

I followed him. "This is no mystery to me, Old Man. I want only one thing and that is to grow old enough and strong enough to challenge my father and then kill him."

We reached another, but smaller metal door set into the front side of the small building and the door again opened without him touching it and without a sound. From inside the warm orange glow of fire greeted us.

"Don't linger young Olafson. It takes a long time to get these stone buildings decently warm, so I like to close the door!"

I went inside following him, expecting again someone pushing the door, but the door closed without anyone behind it. So they weren't completely rejecting technology after all, I thought to myself.

The room was archaic there was no other way to describe it, the walls were rough big boulders set to an arching ceiling. Furs were used both for wall hangings as well as floor covering. The few furniture pieces, like shelves and a big table were made of carved stone. Carved stone furniture was incredibly expensive now and you would usually find one sample or maybe two as a show piece in rich patriarch's drawing rooms. The Ragnarsson clan had lots of it in the burg, and it was the real old kind from the early days of settlement, before they used Duro-Crete, Mix-a-Wood and metals.

The Fireplace was made from the skull of a smaller Tyranno Fin bricked into the wall, it was covered with thick black sod and inside the maw burned a fire not fed by oil and it did not smell or smoke like an oil fire either, but it burned with a bright almost white flame from a large perforated metal ring connected to a copper pipe.

He sat himself in a big high backed stone chair made more comfortable with soft coppery Nubhir furs and soft stuffed Nubhir wolf skins as pillows. The use of stuffing an animal's skin to use as a pillow was also of ancient tradition, something my father still insisted upon but allowed only for himself and his favorites of course.

The Old man looked even smaller than he was in the big chair and I noticed his feet, did not reach to the ground, he tried to hook a foot stool with his left leg to shove it closer so he could better use it. I wordlessly went up to him and pushed the heavy little thing under his now booted feet, then stepped back and waited for what would transpire next.

It was quiet and he simply looked at me from his grizzled old face, his beard was stringy and thin like the rest of him. If he had any hair left on his head, besides the thin beard and the bushy eyebrows, I could not tell, he wore a fur brimmed skull cap, like many Neo Vikings, mostly older men did.

"You are sure this is your only wish?" He finally continuing our conversation we had before entering.

With determination I nodded." Yes this is all I really care about!"

"How about your grandfather? You care about him! You cared enough about Annar to jump into the water to face two Tyrannos. You tell your friends you want to be a Star ship captain and leave this world; these are all things you do not care about?"

I was caught off guard by the questions of the Old man. He knew far more about me than he initially led on. I had to think for a moment and said." I care about Grandfather. He is the only one alive who cares about me. I did not care about Annar; I just don't like unfair situations. Yes I want to be a star ship captain but it is only a dream. I will turn sixteen hopefully alive enough to fight my father. He already forbade me to attend fight classes after the summer break and Greifen said he heard him say he will cripple me to make sure I won't ever be trouble to him."

He prodded his chin up with the palm of his right hand while resting his elbow on the arm rest." I see!"

He then waved with the left." Why are you standing around? Didn't you tell me you were tired and exhausted climbing our stairs?"

"You are an Elder and I am not allowed to sit without permission!"

"You had no trouble calling me Old Man and you did find some choice descriptions when I closed the door on you. So why the honor treatment now?"

"I think you are one of the Faceless Seven and thus equal if not higher in rank to our traditions than the Members of the Circle."

"No Eric I am not one of the Faceless Seven. The faceless seven are stone effigies, huge statues inside the Hall to resemble Odin, Thor, Balder, Heimdall, Ydun, Freya and Loki. Our forefathers who build this place right after coming here on Muspelheim, doing it with old tools, great endurance and incredible hardship could not decide what faces to give the gods and so it was decided to leave them blank so if the gods decided to come to this world so far from Midgard they could give the statues their real likeness."

He then pointed to another stone chair. "Use that one. It is close enough to the fire to thaw your bones, but before you do, be a good lad and pull of my boots. That's one simple task I am getting almost too old to do myself, and I am way too comfortable to get up and use the boot puller."

After I had done that and sat into the chair that made me feel equally small as my feet also did not reach the ground, I was certain the chairs were made to accommodate giants like my father and Uncle Hogun.

"You do know why this mountain is called Muspelheim?"

"No I do not, but wasn't Muspelheim the realm of the fire Demons and sons of Muspel and Sutr, the giant with the flaming sword?"

"Yes Eric, and when the first settlers from Earth arrived here this was still a somewhat active Volcano and in our cold world it was a source of warmth and geothermal heat. Underneath the ice around this mountain, if you would dig you would perhaps find the remnants of the first settlement. This Mountain however cooled and became a dormant volcano. Specialists from Earth predicted it will never be active again and so the focus shifted to the big island where Halstaad Fjord and the new thingstead is."

He paused and leaned over the side. "How good are you at preparing a meal? I am quite hungry you know and I would like to talk to you a little longer before retiring."

"You want a man cook for you? I don't mind but would that not be against the traditions?"

"No Eric, cooking and preparing food is not the sole responsibility of women. Your Uncle Hogun is a well known cook in his famous Inn and during Festivities he will let no one else near the grills. I guess one of the task I have before me is to educate you about the real meaning of traditions and why they never meant to be laws, but became laws never the less." He sighed but with a smile. "I am not an Elder at least not one of the Circle, none of the men here are. Even though all of them should be by age and family heritage."

"But they speak of you with respect, everyone does!"

"How much did you know about us and this place before your grandfather decided to send you here? How often has your father or any of your peers spoken about this place?"

I had to think a moment and said. "Midril and Greifen spoke about this place but in such a way I never thought it actually exists, but was just some lore. I never really heard anyone else talk about it before Grandfather mentioned it."

"Because we are fading away, Eric. This place might be occupied for one, two or maybe three more generations but then it will be empty and forgotten, perhaps in a distant future it becomes a museum or a shrine again but the real meaning of the place will then be forgotten."

He didn't sound angry or sad but I could not help to sense the melancholy behind his words. "I did read up on this place after Grandfather made his recommendation at school and it is an honor to be here and being accepted means a place in the Circle. Would that and our religion not guarantee this place?"

"Eric, our religion was never as worshipful as some of the others. We do not have missionaries or set up churches and temples. We don't have a dedicated priest class or caste. There are no monks, no Orders or cloisters, no seminary schools. All these are needed for a successful religion. We call ourselves the Keepers of Hasvik, as the old Settlement was once called that has sunken into oblivion and under the ice and we never saw ourselves as priests or our faith as a religion."

He waved his hand. "Don't let me stop you preparing something to eat while I try to educate you, young Olafson! I am still hungry and thanks to your slow ascent I had to watch, our kitchens are closed."

"Where are the kitchens and where is the food?" I asked.

"You were able to make a fire out there. This isn't a very big place. Look around see what you can find and surprise me."

I got up and looked around. I found that one shelf did hold basic cooking utensils and earth ware jars with herbs and salt, grease, oil vinegar and pickled fish. He leaned forward so he could look around the high back. "Don't stop there; open the pantry, that's the door behind that large old Snapper fur next to you!"

The pantry was cold, maybe as cold as the outside and there hung smoked sausages, long strips or Tyranno meat, on hooks gutted and skinned Nubhir and a whole Snapper leg.

In the Olafson household it was always deemed that cooking was for Low man and women, nothing a warrior would do. However since I was never considered to reach that loft position, my father had me more often than not help in the kitchen. I did not just mob floors and scour pots. Midril had taught me many of her skills and if this was a Challenge by the Old Keeper, I was confident I could earn some points.

I decided on our Burgs favorite: Tyranno Stew with plenty of Snapper bacon, seaweed flower buds and bread.

I found the needed ingredients easily enough and the big stone table was more than a suitable work surface.

He was still looking past the arm rest, seemed satisfied with my choice and watched me for a moment cutting the meat." I like onions in it!" He said, " Midril does put Onions in hers, does she not?"

"You know Midril?" I was completely surprised.

"I know her stew, Eric. Now get cooking so we can eat. I am starving and you should be too!"

As he mentioned I realized I had not eaten since the last school lunch and that seemed like a lifetime ago. I was hungrier than I was tired." Yes I am!"

He disappeared behind the back of the chair and a few moments later I heard him. "Our gods don't require much worship. Odin doesn't really care, Thor is content if a man lives as a man should and remembers them. The Elders and clan leaders should and thankfully still do, praise the gods by feasts and acts of valor. So it might come to a surprise to you, but you are not here to receive religious instructions. Yes I love to talk about the gods, but they are my gods and my faith and it is you who must find them by deciding you want to do that or not. Everything else is religion, Eric and that is man made. Religion has nothing to do with faith. Surprisingly that holds true to the one religion that has replaced ours on Planet Earth, it was their teacher called Jesus who wanted men to believe and have faith and not turn the whole thing in some sort of enforced cultural ritual. All that was pretty much the cause of Ericson to gather his followers and accept the Earth government offer to settle a new world."