The Berserkers

On my last blog entry I described the Ragnarok, aka Scandinavian apocalypse, where Odin is killed by the fearsome wolf Fenrir. Fenrir was the father of two equally detestable wolves, Hati and Skoll. The below is a passage from my second volume which describes the story of how they started two different lineages of werewolves, the Hatians - from which my main character descends from - and the Skollians. Unfortunately the passage is a little long so I decided to break it in two. I shall post the second and last part tomorrow. Enjoy the story of berserkers* Hundulf and Ghodulf.  

*The berserkers were norse warriors. They used to fight with such rage that the word prevailed until today. Ever heard the phrase 'go berserk' to describe how someone loses their cool and slashes out?

Brothers Hundulf and Ghodulf gladly accepted the mission. The two wolves had been terrorizing the villages in the region for too long, they had already devoured men, women and children and no one had yet managed to capture them. They weren't normal wolves. Normal wolves would never attack human beings, so the men of the northern forests left them alone. Hati and Skoll were different though. Larger than normal wolves, with much more intimidating eyes, they seem to emanate the light of the stars they had devoured several centuries before. Their attacks were relentless. Never had anyone survived to tell the story. 

Hundulf and Ghodulf were the best and most fearless berserkers in the Scandinavian region. Their main job was to capture creatures that threatened local peace and, proud as they were, they had long been waiting for a mission like the one they were about to carry out. It would be the greatest honor to be able to wear and show off the fur of those two damned animals through the villages.

Winter had arrived, mercilessly harsh. Snow fell heavily and covered the entire region, in a thick white blanket that the sun beams could not pierce through. The villages were deserted, no one dared leave the house in that freezing cold. Hundulf and Ghodulf were going down a steep slope, apparently immune to such harsh conditions. Their darkened and weathered skin did not make it easy for anyone to guess how old they were. Ghodulf appeared to be younger than Hundulf. His gaze was calmer and softer, his face was lighter, typical of those who tended to resolve conflicts by the power of words more than by the power of arms. However, anyone who believed that Ghodulf was a coward or ran away from fighting was mistaken. When the power of words became ineffective to resolve a conflict, Ghodulf used his sword so skillfully and fiercely that he himself wondered how he was able to hold wisdom and violence within the same body. However, he had a weakness that at times not only nearly cost him his life, but also cost him hearing sermons from his relentless brother. Just like his violent instincts quickly came to the fore, pity also quickly flooded his heart when his enemies looked at with supplicant eyes, begging for their lives. While some of them thanked Ghodulf and praised him for his generosity, others tricked and attacked him when he least expected it. It was at such times that Hundulf would interfere, delivering the final blow on the false supplicants, and then attacking his brother, calling him weak and naive.

“You must not feel mercy!”, he shouted at his brother, through punches and bumps.

Deep down, Ghodulf knew his brother was right. They were berserkers, which meant they had to be always alert and always ready to kill. Furthermore, they had many enemies. They could not afford to trust people too much, or they would end up dead before their time. Hundulf was like this by nature: suspicious, sudden, irascible and unforgiving. He took his profession very seriously and, truth be said, if it was not for him, Ghodulf would have succumbed a long time ago. Hundulf loved his brother dearly and would never want to see him die.

At that moment they walked in silence, leaving deep footprints in the snow that carried on falling, making it difficult for them to walk. They were tall, sturdy men, carrying skins and bones from old hunts, as well as heavy bear fur boots, swords, knives, and two bags of goatskin with some food inside. Such weight was holding them back, despite their extraordinary strength. Besides, the fact that they did not find any signs of Hati and Skoll in no way made their quest easier. They couldn't smell the wolves. They did not know if it was because these were supernatural wolves - the gods had no smell, so these two creatures shouldn't smell either - or if the wind had simply carried the smell away. It was unthinkable to find footprints under that storm, the snow would have covered them already if some had even been left. As the night began to spread its dark blanket over the land, they thought it would be best to look for shelter to sleep in and light a big fire to keep them warm and any beasts away.

“Will fire be effective against these demons?”, asked Ghodulf, crouching on the ground and removing his bag of food from his shoulder. Hundulf was looking for two stones that he could use to light a bonfire.

“I do not believe that human fire can frighten supernatural beings.”, he said. ”However, we will sleep in shifts, with our weapons ready to be used”.

“Are our weapons enough to kill such creatures?”

Hundulf was about to start rubbing the two stones he had found against each other, but Ghodulf's question prevented him. He stared at him, his  thick eyebrows frowned down towards his dark eyes. He had never really asked himself about it, but the question was pertinent. Their weapons had already killed bears, normal wolves, deer and wild boars, but considering that they were looking for Fenrir's offspring, would these weapons be effective? Or were the two alone over there and more vulnerable than two children lost in the forest?

“Well, we have one silver sword at least.” he reminded his brother just as the thought came to his mind. Fortunately, he had thought to include a pure silver weapon in his belongings and until now he had almost forgotten its presence.

“I don't think these two will let themselves be killed by normal weapons.”

“We will only know what to do when we find them. Now see if you can find good wood around for the bonfire, but don't walk too far.” having said this, Hundulf lit a small bunch of pine needles to which he added some small logs to start a nice fire.

Ghodulf had no intention of going too far anyway. Not that he was afraid, but because if he was taken by surprise by the two vicious beasts, he would never have any chance of surviving. Dead, he would be of no use to either his brother nor to the neighboring villages. He approached Hundulf again a few minutes later, with several logs thick enough to keep the fire burning all night. The wind had calmed down a little and the snow had stopped falling. The night, however, fell dark and sinister over the land. The two berserkers looked up at the sky. It was New Moon, it would be prudent to meet the two wolves at this time, before the Full Moon blessed them with the enormous, fearsome strength that the two brothers believed she gave them.

To be continued...