What Rough Beast

I made a startled sound. It was a natural reaction. It's the way you would respond if you'd suddenly stumbled on a mortal threat, like a coiled rattler. The specter looked in my direction and I heard a high-pitched mocking laugh. It dripped with arrogance and scorn.

Then he did something with his hand, like a magician casting a spell, and it was the first light of morning. I was resting in the spot where I had been tending the fire.

I must have fallen asleep and dreamed it. But it seemed so real and my heart was frantically hammering. I looked up the tunnel. But of course, there was nobody there. The Icelanders were starting to rouse, as was Dani.

I tossed a pile of driftwood on the fire and walked back to the chests. We'd hauled them up from the boat the prior day. I wanted to make sure our stuff hadn't been disturbed.

Everything seemed normal. I was relieved. I'd had a bad dream.

Dani joined me. She was wearing the same kind of fisherman's sweater. But HER sweater was stuffed full of boobs. It occurred to me that this was the first time I'd thought of her that way.

My prior lack of response was understandable. Dani might be gorgeous, but she radiated naivety, which is exactly the way you would expect an Anglican cleric's daughter to be. But then again, with a face and body like hers I'm sure other guys had been tempted. It would be impossible to spend any time with a woman who looked like Dani and not at least try.

She smiled and said a cheerful, "Good morning."

Seriously??!! Her cheeks even had two cute little dimples. She had been shipwrecked for over two days and yet her long sheaf of shining blond hair looked like she had just brushed it smooth.

I muttered a distracted, "Good morning to you too."

I was busy digging out breakfast. There was no need to use the water from the boat. There was plenty of snow outside courtesy of last night's blizzard. In fact, the first thing we did after breakfast was gather more wood and replenish the water supply.

While we were doing that, I pumped Ivar for more information. I didn't want to bring up what I'd seen, since I was convinced it was a dream. But I wanted to get a better handle on the sort of bizarre things that might have prompted it.

I said casually, "So you're an expert on Norse mythology?"

He laughed and said, "It's my hobby. I'm a hydroelectric engineer in my day job. Iceland sits on the crack between two tectonic plates. Thus, it is among the most volcanically active places on the planet."

He added, "That's both a blessing and a curse. It's a curse because our volcanoes occasionally erupt. But it's a blessing in the sense that we have infinite amounts of steam to power everything from our electric grid to our hot water heaters."

I gestured around and said, "This is a lava tube - right?"

He said, "It looks like one. There are a string of islands off the Icelandic coast, the Faroes being the largest. They have the same issues with vulcanism as our island nation has."

I said, "Do you think there's a volcano at the end of the passage?"

He grimaced and said, "I imagine there is. The heat has to come from somewhere. It would make geologic sense. But, it's highly unlikely that we would have an eruption in the short time we're here."

I said conversationally, hoping that he would interpret my questions as idle curiosity, "So what about the hellhound who lives in our cave probably has a master - right?"

He laughed and said, "He's Hel's pet. That's the woman, not the location. She's the daughter of Loki and if the runes are correct this is the entrance to their place of residence."

I said, still trying to sound only mildly interested, "So who is this Loki fellow anyhow?"

Ivar laughed again and said, "Every religion has to have its bad boy. For the Christians and Jews, it's Lucifer. For the Norse it was Loki. He was the son who constantly embarrassed the family, always in some kind of trouble."

Ivar added, warming to the story, "Loki isn't a prototypical Viking warrior like Thor. In fact, he's jealous of Thor, sort of like the classic little brother."

He added, "Loki's portrayed in the Norse sagas as devious and cowardly. He only does the things that serve his own purposes, never anybody else's. His sole aim is self-preservation and his own shallow pleasures. He's playful at times. But he's also arrogant and a complete anarchist."

Ivar was making the Viking sagas sound more like a modern soap-opera. He said, "Loki isn't really one of the Asgard gods. He's a Jotunn. The Norse Eddas aren't exactly clear what a Jotunn is. They have god-like abilities. But they also have human characteristics. Loki's equivalent is somebody like the Greek's Hercules, sort of a demi-god."

Ivar smiled grimly and said, "Loki is the clever one, a trickster, a shape shifter. He can assume many forms. His tricks are more malicious than truly evil. But he eventually went too far and got his brother Baldur killed. So, the other gods chained him to a rock until Ragnarök."

I asked the obvious question, "What's Ragnarök?"

He said, "That's the battle that ends the Norse world. Ragnarök destroys the Viking universe in fire and conflict. The Gods fight the evil creatures that inhabit the Norse cosmos, like Fenrir, the all devouring wolf and Jormungand the venomous Midgard Serpent."

I said, "Sort of like the Book of Revelations but with Viking overtones."

Ivar brightened and said, "Yes, just like that -- except Loki fights on the side of chaos, not order.

I recalled something. I said surprised, "I know some names. Odin is their chief god -- right? And Thor does thunder and lightning. What does Loki do?"

Ivar laughed again and said, "He's in charge of fire, earthquakes and volcanos,"

We were both carrying a load of firewood. I nearly dropped mine. I looked at the cave and thought, "Shit! Fire and volcanoes!! It couldn't be."

I got one more revelation on our trek back up the cave. Dani insisted on coming along. So, the two of us were walking side-by-side. She's almost a foot shorter. So, when I looked down all I could see was her shining helmet of golden hair, her pert nose and two large swaying protuberances -- welcome back sexuality.

Of course, Dani chattered away like a little bird, totally oblivious to what she was doing to me.

We explored well past the point where I had seen the apparition and it got progressively hotter. We pressed on and came to a monstrous cavern that contained a huge underground river. The cavern was so vast that we couldn't see the ceiling, only blackness.

There was a stone bridge over the river gorge. It didn't look like a natural formation. There were some runes. Ivar looked at it and gasped, "It says Bifrost. That's the bridge to Asgard."

Okay, this was getting really weird. I said exasperated, "Do you mean to tell me that the Norse version of heaven is on the other side of that bridge?" I'd had enough of the folk tales.

Ivar said, "I'm telling you nothing more than what the runes say. My guess is that the volcanic caldera is somewhere right over there. That would fit with the myths. They say that Asgard was destroyed by fire."

That was enough. I said apologetically, "I'm sorry Ivar. It's just that this has nothing to do with our rescue. It doesn't look like there's anything helpful up ahead and it's getting unbearably hot. We should just go back."

Everybody agreed. So, we turned around and trooped back. We decided to tell the others that we'd found nothing. Mentioning the Bifrost bridge and Asgard would just cause needless speculation.

The rest of our day passed without incident. We gathered more firewood and checked the distress signal. I ran the diesel for a while to fill up the battery and we bedded down for the night.

There is something about night and caves that connects with the primeval part of your brain. It brews nameless fears and a shadowy sense of dread. We had one old .45 caliber pistol and I knew how to use it. How did I know that? I still had no idea. But I laid it next to me for company in the dark of the night.

The long hours of any watch wear on your psyche. You have time to contemplate and all I could think about was how much deep shit I was in. I was sure that they would take us to a hospital after they picked us up. I was hoping that I could talk to somebody there. Maybe there was some kind of treatment that would help me get my memory back?

Then there was a tingling in the air, like static electricity. Time was frozen. I couldn't move. I looked up and there was a different entity in front of me. I thought, "That confirms it!! I'm nuts!!"

However, this apparition was bigger and older than last night's. His most striking feature was his single, piercing eye. His other eye socket was empty. He had the look of royalty and he wasn't carrying a war-hammer. So, my guess was "Odin."

Last night's ghostly presence had scared the shit out of me. My reaction to this one was unmitigated awe. He was the boss god, the guy whose only purpose was to acquire and spread knowledge. If you took Oxford University and packed it into a single body -- that's what it would look like.

I heard a deep portentous voice say, "You can only kill that which is not him." What the fuck did THAT mean??!!

Then it was morning again. Whether it was minutes or hours was immaterial. My hallucinations were getting to be a serious concern. Maybe the loss of memory was related to those dreams. Perhaps it all tied together. Maybe I had a brain tumor?

A blood curdling cry blasted me out of my self-involved reverie. It came from Wilfred. Both he and his partner Charles were sleeping the furthest back in the cave. They were elderly and the cold bothered them.

I jumped to my feet and rushed back to see what had happened. The source of the concern was obvious, Charles was lying unconscious and there was blood everywhere. I rushed over to him. He wasn't dead. I could see him breathing.

I shouted, "Get me some water!"

Wilfred hustled up with one of the water jugs. I soaked a cloth, squatted down and daubed the blood. Charles started to come around. He had a big cut across his forehead and his nose was smashed.

It looked like he might have fallen against the side of the cave. There was blood on the wall. But the splotch was too far up. He opened his eyes. I could see horror in them. He said in an anguished tone, "I tried to stop him!!"

I said, "Who? Stop Who??!!"

He gestured toward where the rest of us had been sleeping and said, "The man who took them."

I looked in the direction he indicated. My spine turned to ice. Both women were missing as was the priest. There were only six of us now -- Ivar, Charles, Wilfred, the two kids and myself!!

According to Charles, the two women had been kidnapped by a man dressed like a dark-ages barbarian. I'd seen that dude before. It was Loki!!

Charles told us that Loki had tucked the two women under his arm and casually walked off in the direction of the cavern. He said shaken, "It was like he was picking up a pair of sleeping children. He must have done something to them. Neither stirred"

Then, when Charles tried to intervene, the man had grabbed him and smashed him against the wall. I said, "What happened to the priest?"

Charles said, "I don't know. He was sleeping nearby. He might have wakened like me. Maybe he ran after them."

I looked at Ivar. He was understandably distressed. I said, "We're going to have to go back into that cave. Are you coming? Charles and Wilfred can watch the kids."

Ivar gave me a forlorn look and said, "We have no choice my friend. I would die without my wife." Sadly, he had no idea.

*****

There was a brief, harried period of gathering weapons. I had one of the knives and the gun. Ivar had the other knife and the axe. It was a proper weapon for a proto-Viking. Ivar solemnly hugged his kids. They were trying to be brave. But, the little one burst into tears crying, "I want mommy?"

Wilfred scooped him up and said soothingly, "Hush - that's what your daddy is going to do my little chap. They'll all be back tickety-boo." I didn't speak ancient British. But I assumed that was meant to be comforting.

I understood what "dark as a grave" meant as soon as we got out of the daylight from the entrance. I recall thinking, "Enclosed space, earthy smell -- yep! It feels about right." I hoped that wasn't an omen.

There is something unnerving about walking in total blackness. We chose to only use pen flashlights, not a flare. Loki was a Jotunn not an Asgard god. He hadn't been aware of my presence until I made a startled sound. So, maybe he had normal hearing and eyesight. Perhaps we could sneak up on him; maybe catch him asleep or something?? Right??!!

Don't bother saying it - I knew I was kidding myself. You can call me stupid if you want. I kept muttering that word under my breath as we crept along in the dark. But my sense of who I was, the part that was hidden from me, wouldn't let me turn back.

I told Ivar about my earlier brush with Loki. He said angrily, "Why didn't you tell me this before?!"

Okay, that was a little harsh. But I knew where it was coming from. I was just as worried about the fate of my little friend Dani. She was such a sweet and innocent soul.

I said, "Look man, think about it. How would you feel if I'd told you that I'd run into the Norse God Loki? Would your first thought be that your wife was going to be kidnapped, or that I was crazy?"

Ivar said grimly, "If you told me that I would have advised all of us to leave immediately. There have been far too many indications that this place is supernatural. All the signs were marked by my ancestors. We just didn't pay attention to them."

Personally, I would have gone with the "crazy" option. But I guess belief in mythological characters was a Viking thing. I was about to apologize, when we splashed through a puddle on the cave floor.

We both pointed our lights down. I found to my absolute horror that we were standing in a pool of rapidly congealing blood!! That deserved a flare!!

The flare lit the cave in a dazzling red glow. The red was appropriate. There were two pieces of human body totally separated; intestines were strewn in between. It was the source of all the blood. I dropped the flare in horror and revulsion.

It was the priest. He was lying face up with his lower body turned in the opposite direction. It was like an unruly kid had twisted a doll in half. The priest's mouth was a rictus of fear and pain.

I threw-up on one side of the cave, Ivar puked on the other.

It was appalling and disgusting. But it was also terrifying. That grisly sight meant that we were facing a creature who was unspeakably cruel and inhumanly strong. An old .45 and two knives weren't going to do much against a guy like that. Ivar and I had to talk.

I rinsed my mouth from our water bottle and glanced at Ivar. He looked as green as I felt. I nodded at the mess on the floor, it was scarcely human, and said dispassionately, "We're going to get the same treatment if we catch this guy."

Ivar looked unhappy. He'd obviously been thinking the same thing. But he didn't have a choice. Loki had kidnapped his wife. Running away would be an insufferable act of cowardice. I, on the other hand, didn't have a dog in the fight. At least that was what I'd thought.

Then I remembered Dani's sweet face, her devotion to me, her kind, gentle, loving disposition and the underlying current of smoldering sexuality. I had to go after her, even though we'd only just met.

A random thought flashed through my mind. I knew that this was something I was uniquely suited to do. It was part of my past.

We were resting in the dying light of the flare, butts propped against the cave wall, hands on knees, still getting over the gruesome thing we'd just seen. I said, "Tell me everything you know about this Loki. What are his strengths and weaknesses?"

Ivar said, "He's superhumanly strong, but not like Thor, or Tyr. He's crafty, but not as clever as Odin. Shape-shifting is his only unique ability and that's mainly to deceive."

It looked like an idea struck him. Ivar said excitedly, "When Loki shape-shifts he has the same vulnerabilities as the creature he has changed into. THAT's his fatal flaw!!"

Odin had alluded to that. I said, "For the sake of full disclosure, Odin paid me a visit last night. He was in the process of telling me the same thing when the kidnap happened." I had the passing thought, "Maybe Odin knew what Loki was doing?"

Okay, that sounded weird -- even to me. I'd just been advised by the king of the gods about the best way to handle one of his errant subjects.

Ivar took me totally seriously. He nodded and said, "The gods can be injured and even killed. It's part of the Norse mentality. To the Vikings, dominance is determined by who's the best fighter and fighters have to be susceptible, otherwise there wouldn't be a point to the contest."

He added, "A wound means somebody has defeated you. So, if a warrior is wounded, he loses status and reputation. It's a central aspect of their very harsh culture -- it's survival of the fittest. That also applies to the Viking gods. At Ragnarök the various gods kill each other in mortal combat."

I said, just to clarify, "So, we can take Loki out, if we can get him to shape-shift into something that we can hurt, like an animal, or another human??"

Ivar nodded eagerly and said, "It's the only chance we have."

We had a plan. But, the sense of unspeakable dread remained.

Both of us had our reasons for continuing up that cave. Ivar's motives were simple. Loki had stolen his wife. We both knew why Loki kidnapped the two women. The Vikings liked to rape just as much as they liked to pillage. So, Ivar had to man-up or lose everything.

My motives were a bit more complex. To be honest, doing the right thing was a rationalization. It wasn't the actual reason. The fact was, Dani's loyal and loving soul had worked its way deep into my heart

Fearless just means you don't understand the odds. It takes real courage to press on when you're shitting yourself. I was pretty sure that we were going to end up like the priest. But I was still willing to fight a legendary Norse bad-guy, armed with nothing but an ancient pistol and a carving knife; all for the sake of my little rectory cat.

Once we got to the cavern, we didn't need the flashlights. We could see clearly in the ambient orange glow. The problem was that we could be seen by anybody on the other side while we crossed the bridge. So, we hustled over it as fast as we could.

The other side was a revelation. Ivar had told me that Asgard was the Norse version of heaven. But it looked more like the Christian hell. The space was perhaps 200 yards wide and it was the lip of an active volcano, which curved off into the unseen distance.

There was the sound of an unspeakable force brewing in the huge caldera below. The glow was brighter there. It lit everything in an eerie orange light. Ivar had alluded to an end-of-the-world scenario. Maybe this was it.

But where was the heat? We should be burning to death. After all, we were standing next to an active volcano. Instead, it was like a nice spring day in Copenhagen; meaning it was cool and pleasant.

Of course, they were gods. So, I suppose they could make their weather whatever they wanted it to be. And perhaps there hadn't been a volcano next door before Ragnarök.

Still, what caught my attention was the enormous Viking mead-hall hulking at the end of the wide, brick path. From the sound of it, they were having a lot of fun in there.

Ivar said awed, "Valhalla."

Valhalla was the place where Viking warriors ended-up, if they were heroic enough in battle. My heart sank. I thought to myself, "The guy who we're after is in there with an all-star cast of Viking berserkers. We can't just walk in and yell, Stick 'em up!!"