Alien Symbols

The Berserkers spent hours in the cart. Thankfully, it was a shorter trip than spending the day walking. Stevens did a good job securing it, and the owner — an old man named Lundgren — was quite outspoken about his hatred of the Khardis in Älgenhul. Pleasant conversation for Viking since he hated the Khardis, too. And the Alkenians. Almost everyone in general. Viking initially didn’t want Lundgren to go with them. The fewer civilian companions, the better, and zero was the fewest possible. However, the man explained the Khardis had been in town long enough to know him, and to recognize the cart. The discolored wheels made it rather easy to identify. So, a cover story was devised about how the poor man needed to make a trip south to get some supplies and a new crop he wanted to try growing. When no enemy soldiers were found hiding in the cart, the Khardis let him go.

Outside the guards’ view, the Berserkers boarded the cart. They had snuck out of the town before and waited. Each left a different way, all meeting down the road to the mountains. Quick and easy. Viking didn’t know if they would get back to Drügeldorf before Calhoun. His desire to disable the Zeppelin definitely cost them some time. The trade-off was worth it, though, and that’s what mattered. He would’ve liked to get more information beyond the airship, but they had enough. They knew the Khardis were the ones operating it, not the Alkenians. He still wrestled with the why of it, and the only answer he could think of was trouble in Alkenia. At least they had a name for the Khardi leader: General Abdul Salim. Viking caught sight of him on his way out of town.

The wagon continued down the road into the mountains, stopping at a boulder. This boulder, being one of a handful which fell in a rock slide many years ago, was not exactly unique. Except, of course, for the symbol Viking carved into it so they could use it for navigation: the Raido rune. He’d run some tests with the Nordic runes, and discovered that if he wrote something in a foreign language to him, it could not be read or naturally understood by the people of this world. On top of that, Vikings never existed in this world. So this symbol was another thing he brought with him. None of the Berserkers were allowed to have that symbol, or any other Nordic rune, on their person. It was their own alien code used for the field. Stevens located the familiar angular “R” among the rocks.

Viking examined the rock himself until he found the Algiz, a sort of Y-trident shaped rune. It faced another boulder. On that boulder was another Algiz, which pointed to a tree. Again, another Algiz could be found. This runic trail went up the mountain, away from the path. The cart was taken with them. Jürgenstag was the closest town to them, located further down the mountain range. It was also a two-day trip from Älgenhul, minimum. To avoid suspicion, it was best to take Lundgren and his cart with them. The day after tomorrow, they would send the good man on his way back home with supplies. The final Algiz they found faced a cave just barely large enough for the cart to squeeze through. Stevens and Lundgren had to duck a little. Stevens used his torch to illuminate their new path as best he could.

Torch, Viking thought. Damn it, I’ve gone native. It’s a flashlight.

They kept going until they came to a fork. Once more, the Algiz was used to mark the right path. Further and further they went, the air slowly getting stuffier and stuffier. The horse drawing the cart did not take too well to its cramped surroundings. Lundgren leaned forward, speaking gently to the creature. It worked, but its uneasiness caused further unease for everyone else. They didn’t need a horse going mad. It wasn’t too much longer that they spotted an opening emitting light. Castle Drügeldorf’s dungeon. There were many tunnels and passageways in the castle, several of which led into the natural tunnels and caves of the mountains. This was the only one which was kept open, because its size made it a good secondary entrance.

Lundgren asked a soldier keeping guard for an apple, which he fed to his horse. All the while, he praised it for keeping itself together in the tunnels. Viking and the Berserkers left him to find Spartan and Commandant Cahill.

#

“Khardis?” Cahill asked. “Are you sure?”

“They were too dark to be Alkenians, sir,” Viking answered.

The map of the Drügeldorf region still dominated the center table, but Spartan was busy pouring over the maps and documents piled on a desk in the corner.

“It just doesn’t make sense.” Cahill stroked his chin. “Why wouldn’t the Alkenians be operating their own airships if they’re so close?”

“That’s what bothers me,” Spartan said, still rifling through papers. “Our enemy is not stupid. There has to be a reason. The only question is what? I also feel like I’ve heard that name before, Abdul Salim. I just can’t place it....”

Cahill turned to the Berserkers, all standing tall by the center table. “You didn’t find anything on why Khardis are running this operation?”

“No, sir,” Viking answered. “Nothing.”

“We need to investigate,” Cahill blurted. “We need to know exactly what is going on. If there’s something happening in their motherland, we might be able to take advantage of the situation.”

Spartan finally stopped his search. “How many times have we taken advantage of the situation? How many times did we keep the advantage?”

“We’ve never had this kind of an opportunity,” Cahill countered. “What better time?”

Spartan laughed. “What opportunity? We haven’t the faintest idea what is happening with the Alkenians. Besides, they are not our only enemies.”

“We only need a small team. We could even send the Berserkers in to see what’s going on.”

“No. They had two airships, and I’d hazard to guess they both are equipped with Pyrosuits. They must know about the tunnels.” His eyes suddenly went wide. “The Butcher!”

“What?”

Spartan shot around. “Abdul the Butcher! That’s why I know the name!”

“He’s someone you know?” Viking guessed.

“Not personally. But he is infamous. If the Alkenians have decided to let the Butcher handle us, then they’re not leaving chances. But, this is also, in a way, good.”

“How exactly is that good?” asked Cahill with a raised eyebrow. “You know as well as I do what the Butcher is capable of.”

“It’s good because it means we’ve really pissed them off.”