Chapter 5

'No turning back now,' Ketilbjorn said sternly, glaring at Thorhall, who had stopped dead in his tracks. The Hordalander swallowed, and nodded unwillingly. They crept still further down the tunnel.

It began to widen out, and suddenly the light lit up a vast cavern, at the centre of which crouched twelve dragons.

All of them were at least twenty feet from tip to tail, and covered in gleaming scales, that shone like the gold scattered in heaps around them. From their reptilian yet equine heads to their wickedly barbed tails, from the withered, leathery bunches of wings on their scaled backs to their massive, taloned feet, they were the vilest, most evil-looking creatures the Vikings had yet seen. But although their lizard-like faces betrayed no sign of their once-human status, odd reminders were visible here and there; all of them wore helmets, and clutched swords beneath their wings.

As the four adventurers entered the cavern, the largest weredrake, in the centre, stretched himself, and opened his jaws to belch venom and flame.

And froze, as the first rays of Agnar's witch-light fell upon his scaly hide. His fellows stood stock-still at his side, and then all the creatures fell into a deep sleep.

The Vikings stood staring at the monsters for a few seconds. Then Ketilbjorn let out a whoop.

'We've done it!' he laughed. 'We've got the treasure, the dragons have been put to sleep...'

'Better make sure they stay that way,' Thorir said grimly.

He strode fearlessly over to the nearest dragon and drew out the massive sword that poked from beneath the creature's left wing. Grabbing on a jutting horn, he heaved himself up onto its back and thrust the blade under its shoulders and into its heart. Blood burst blackly out with a stench similar to that of the pools of venom that steamed on the tunnel floor.

Ketilbjorn headed for the next dragon and did the same.

'Mind the blood,' Thorir warned him. 'It'll burn you away.' He had reached the largest weredrake - Val, presumably - and was gazing at the gold-chased helmet on the creature's head. He reached up to it, and took it down.

With an awful suddenness, the dragon's baleful eyes split open, and it leapt forward, knocking Thorir back against the nearby wall. It grabbed Thrand in its massive claw and then spread its leathery wings, leapt up into the putrid air, and soared from the cavern.

Its fellows followed it, casting fire and venom from their mouths as they did so. The Vikings desperately flung themselves to the ground in an attempt to escape this holocaust as the wild ride of dragons howled past them into the tunnel.

But behind them the monsters left nothing except still, unmoving bodies and smoking pools of venom.