Chapter 128: Forsaken (2/2)

The man had a nervous look in his eyes as he nodded slowly and led the way for the Eraldsen's. Snow crunched beneath their feet as the town grew larger in their sights. Harik's mind was racing as it considered a lot of different theories as to what he would see. But nothing could prepare him for it as he passed through the gates.

Huddled against the walls on the inside of the town were the dead bodies of warriors. They looked fresh, maybe by a day or two, but it could be longer because of the cold. There were small groups like this as far as he could see. Always huddled by the walls with used torches laying by their feet. 'What the hell happened here?'

His first thoughts went to some kind of outbreak. Some illness had possibly swept through the town, but even then, there should be survivors. He knew well enough that it was highly unlikely for an entire settlement to be killed by something like that. 'Besides, Jarl Jorsson is no fool.' It left him feeling uneasy as he continued to follow the warrior after that slight pause.

Ania stared a bit longer at those bodies. 'There are dark circles around their eyes...' She had seen something similar before on her mother. When she struggled to sleep whenever her father went off on the raids. 'But why would they all have them?' Of course, her mind was already connecting the dots. She knew all the gods of the Ragnarok Pantheon and what they ruled over.

'Did Exile send WintersEmbrace to curse this place?' Still, she was unsure if that was what had really happened. It was only a slight suspicion in her mind, but she felt like she could feel the presence of a god lingering in the air here.

”Ania! Come here!” Harik roared from the interior of a nearby building.

A shiver ran down her spine with the tone he used. It was one of worry. It conveyed that he had no idea what he was looking at. Her feet moved of their own accord. Carrying her to the little shabby home. Her eyes went wide as she stepped into the dim room. There, huddled around the charred remains of the logs that had once been lit in their hearth, was a family.

They were still alive, but their eyes were fixed on the darkest corners of the room with terror. Ania clearly noticed the dark circles around their eyes as they whispered incoherent words. The only thing they said that made any sort of sense were the words, 'Exile, protect us...'

Ania's heart skipped a beat when she heard that. She noticed the grim expression on Harik's face as he stared at her. It was clear he wanted to say something about this, but the words escaped him. Either out of fear for what would happen once they were said, or fear of finding out the truth of the matter.

Harik shook his head with pity in his eyes as he ordered his warriors to take them and get them warmed up and fed. Preferably with a fire to chase the darkness away in the hopes that it would ease their minds somewhat. Harik's grim expression prevailed as they found others in a similar state. Sometimes in was orphaned children with their parents dead next to them. Other times it was warriors who seemed broken in the mind.

All of them were gathered by Harik's forces and treated with care. It was clear in Harik's mind what had happened here. It had to have been a god commanded by Exile to spread this terror. It was a horrifying fate for their enemies. No chance to fight for their lives or die with a weapon in their hands. Harik could not help but think it was a clear display of the cruelty of the gods if they were displeased.

'Things were simpler before they came back...' Harik sighed as he slowly made his way to the elevated longhouse in the centre of the town. The whole place had been built on a rocky hill, and the Jarl's longhouse stood there like a silent sentinel watching over the citizens. Harik felt dread rising in his heart as he slowly clambered up the meandering path.

The longhouse was as silent as the grave when it should be the building most full of life. His eyes barely paid attention to the sorry sight of two guards, dead on their feet, standing on either side of the doors. Their eyes were wide open and frost was visible on their eyelids and beards. With a deep breath, he pushed open the doors.

Ania loudly wretched behind him. Harik did not reproach her for it. How could he blame her? The smell that escaped was horrific. Laying there in the darkness of the hall were at least a dozen bodies. Arranged in a circle with a dead fire between them. It looked as if they were standing guard over the fire as they faced away from it with their weapons drawn.

'Everyone here was afraid of the dark... As if something was watching them from the shadows...' Harik sighed as he peered into those dark corners for himself. But there was nothing there. 'This place has been forsaken by the gods.' Harik shook his head sadly. He knew Jarl Jorsson. He was a fine warrior and Jarl. He cared for his people as long as they did not break the law. He had silently hoped to bring him over to their side.

”Find the Jarl!” Harik bellowed as the warriors who had accompanied them scurried off into the dark rear rooms of the longhouse...