Chapter 5

Five: Behind the Waterfall

'Are we just going to stay here and wait?' demanded Thorhall.

Ketilbjorn drew himself up proudly.

'I'm not,' he said. 'Though Thorir's doubtless gone to his doom, I shall follow him, and share his fate.'

The others stood around him, staring down at the foaming river.

'I'll come too,' said Thrand quietly.

Thorhall looked at the others.

'Is no one else going to join them?'

'Why don't you?' demanded Hyrning.

Thorhall looked away in consternation. He hadn't wanted to come on this expedition; alone of his fellows he had been content with fishing, and the idea of going against dragons scared the life out of him. But he had sworn to stand by his lord through thick and thin. He stared at the waters for a long time. Then he turned away.

'I will,' he murmured.

Ketilbjorn sprang up onto the trunk and headed towards the cable. Thorhall and Thrand followed him. The others stood by the bank and watched as they copied Thorir's descent, and disappeared into the torrent.

'That's the last we'll see of them,' Hyrning said with grim finality.

Ketilbjorn felt himself pulled under the water by the strong current. As it tugged at his body, and he plunged beneath the waters, he felt a moment of panic. But he crushed it, knowing that he was dying well.

In the waters close to him, he glimpsed the dark, blurred shapes of Thorhall and Thrand, caught by the currents, spinning through the swirling river. Then Thorhall vanished ahead, like a log going over a rapid. The water rushed faster as the other two followed him. Thrand was dragged past Ketilbjorn, and also vanished.

Ketilbjorn struck out at the waters, attempting to win himself a few seconds. But his lungs were bursting, and he began to weaken quickly. Suddenly a faster current caught him, and with heart-stopping suddenness, he was flung over the edge.

With the roar of the falls in his ears, he felt himself falling, falling, falling.... and then something caught him!

His descent ended with an abrupt jerk, and suddenly he was through the curtain of water and lying flat out on the slippery stones of a dark tunnel.

He raised his head to see Thorhall and Thrand lying in ungainly postures on either side of him. And standing beside them, unwrapping the line that had saved them all from plunging into the waters of the dumb Sea, stood Thorir. He looked down at Ketilbjorn.

'Decided to come after all?' he grinned.

The others were still standing by the river.

'What are we going to do?' Hyrning asked.

Bjorn shrugged. 'They're bound to be dead now,' he admitted. 'But it would be a stain on our honour if people heard we abandoned our lord in such a situation.'

'Maybe they're not dead,' Hyrning said.

'Well, if we make camp close by, and wait a few days, then we'll be able to say that we didn't just leave Thorir to it,' Bjorn replied, with a fatalistic shrug.

'It's dark,' said Thorhall astutely.

They still stood at the mouth of the cave. Thorir had allowed his followers time to get their breath back, but now they were preparing to follow the tunnel under the waterfall. It was indeed dark, but Thorhall's objection was quickly silenced.

'I brought this with me,' Thorir said, unwrapping his tinderbox from the whale-blubber that surrounded it. 'Waterproofed, you see.' He took a torch from his pouch, and quickly lit it.

The flickering torchlight revealed the cave-tunnel leading deep into the rock, winding away out of their sight. The others looked fearful, but Thorir grabbed his equipment and strode forward.

'Come on,' Ketilbjorn muttered, and led the rest of them after their courageous leader. They loosened their swords in their scabbards as they crept down the dark tunnel.

Twisting and turning like a serpent - or a dragon - it led them about a quarter of a mile inside the rock of the island. At various points along the walls they saw burn-marks, and along the floor as they made their way in were increasing numbers of foul-stinking pools that Thorir suggested was dragon-venom. The further they went in, the greater the stench grew, a smell Ketilbjorn associated with snake-pits and nests of adders on the moors, but far stronger.

As they proceeded into the heart of the island, they caught the sound of a distant, eerie moaning.

'What's that?' asked Thrand.

'Sounds like the wind,' Thorir remarked, puzzled.

'The wind?' said Thorhall scornfully. 'What's the wind doing down here? More likely, it's the dragons coming to meet us.'

They paused to listen more intently.

'It sounds rather more like the wind, you know.' Ketilbjorn said. 'Maybe it's coming from some tunnels that lead out of here.'

'Yes, maybe...' Thorir began. Then a sudden gust of wind blew out the torch.

'What's going on? Where's the light gone? Quick, do something!' the Vikings shouted.

'Calm down, everyone!' Thorir yelled.

'Don't shout so loud!' hissed Thrand. 'The dragons might hear us!'

‘They might be sneaking up on us already!' Thorhall realised, panicking. 'Quick, Thorir! Do something.'

'Like what?' Thorir snapped, irritated by his companion, who now seemed to view him as a miracle-worker.

'Call on Agnar,' Ketilbjorn suggested. 'Pray to him. He's a troll, after all. He should answer prayers.'

There was silence from Thorir for a few seconds, then they heard him muttering something under his breath.

A great flash of light burst out, illuminating the surrounding tunnel, glowing down from behind them. The Vikings glanced at each other.

'Well, that's shed some light on the problem,' said Thrand laconically.

'Come on, then,' cried Ketilbjorn, suddenly reinvigorated by this supernatural assistance. 'Let's get this over and done with.'

As they made their way down the tunnel, the glowing witchlight followed them, illuminating their path. After a few more minutes, they heard another noise from ahead; hoarse, heavy, somnolent breathing.

'Here be dragons,' Thorir whispered.