Such Sweet Sorrow (20 page)

Romeo thought he might be beginning to understand the young man, no matter how disparate the circumstances of their births.

With a lofty sigh, Hamlet admitted, “Fine. If we’re tying up all our loose ends out here… I’ve come to enjoy your company, Romeo. I might even—I cannot believe I am saying this—I might even like you as a person.”

“Was that so difficult?” Romeo punched him in the shoulder, a sign of affection once reserved for Mercutio.

“Come,” Hamlet said, gesturing toward the long staircase winding down toward the rainbow bridge. “They said we would do battle on Bifröst. Since there is no time in this place, I can only assume that the meeting time is set at whenever we’re actually on Bifröst. Best to get this out of the way.”

Hamlet jogged down a few steps. Romeo did not follow. “Hamlet?”

The prince turned back with a quizzical expression, and Romeo lost his courage to say what he’d meant to say; that he considered him a friend and ally, that he could never thank him for all he’d done, not just for Romeo, but for Juliet as well.

So instead, he said, “Don’t trip and break your neck. I’m sure I
can
defeat that entire army of Vikings, but I don’t want to.”

A short chuckle burst from Hamlet, and they hurried down the steps.

…

Once their feet touched Bifröst, they did not have to wait long. High above them, Romeo heard the doors of Valhalla scrape open, and a trembling thunder as a mass of warriors and armor clattered down the steps. The Valkyrie flew ahead of them, their spears held aloft, and they were the first to touch the ground.

Romeo saw no sign of Juliet, until one Valkyrie broke away from the rest and rushed at him.

“Romeo!” Juliet cried as she collided with him, her arms nearly crushing the life out of him with supernatural strength.

“Juliet?” He disentangled himself, wincing, and held her at arm’s length. She wore the golden breastplate and white linen toga of the Valkyrie. Her black ringlets lay loose against her cheek beneath her golden helm, and behind her, two huge wings of snow-white feathers stirred restlessly.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” she fretted, as though this were the most immediate concern. “I didn’t realize how strong I was now.”

“Juliet, you’re…” Romeo’s voice faltered. Was this a blessing or a curse? “You’re one of them?”

“How did this happen?” Hamlet boggled beside them. He walked around them in an agitated circle, as though he could find a viewing angle that would make all become clear. “Juliet, what did they do to you?”

“They gave me a choice,” she said with a shrug. “I thought this would make me more useful.”

“Mortals!” Hildr called, and when she crooked her finger, Juliet was compelled to return to the host. Romeo’s arms ached to hold her again, after so brief a reunion, but his mind swam. They had given her a choice? She’d chosen to become a Valkyrie…Did that mean she wouldn’t leave the Afterjord with him?

There was no time to concentrate on that, now, for Hildr approached as Juliet faded into the ranks of the Valkyries. Hildr held up the whistle chained around her neck and called to Hamlet and Romeo over the short distance. “At my signal, all the fury of Valhalla will descend upon you. Are you prepared?”

“As prepared as any man, to die,” Hamlet called back. “If we cut our way through your ranks, you will not prevent us from gaining the corpseway?”

“You have my word as a daughter of Odin,” Hildr vowed. She looked over her shoulder and barked, “Juliet!”

Juliet stepped forward.

“Do you stand with them?” Hildr asked Juliet, gesturing with her spear, moving it from one hand to the other.

Juliet pulled her dagger. “I do. I may be one of you now, but I must fight for them. It is only honorable.”

Appealing to Hildr’s sense of honor had worked. “You’ll get yourself killed with that.” She tossed her spear to Juliet. “Make good use of it.” Then she put a hand on Juliet’s bare shoulder and leaned in close to say something Romeo could not hear.

The Valkyrie took flight, hovering just off the ground. She held out her arms, and two of her sisters flew to her side, one with a small, round shield, the other with a replacement spear. Another came to her with a helmet and fit it over her golden hair. The gleaming nasal of her helm cut a swath of light between her ice blue eyes. “Make peace with your gods, and plans for your eternity, for here you will die, and you will not have a seat at our feasting table.”

Juliet looked up at Romeo, her eyes filled with tears, but fierce as well.

“What did she tell you?” Romeo asked her, his gaze lifting to the retreating form of Hildr. “When she whispered to you, what did she say?”

“Nothing of concern.” Juliet wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I will fight with you. When you die, I will come find you as you found me. I promise.”

That was why she accepted their offer.
It became clear as crystal to Romeo then. She knew that he would die in this battle, and once his soul left his physical body, where would it be bound? As a Valkyrie, Juliet might seek him out, and rescue him as he had rescued her.

He thought back to the night of the ball at Capulet’s house, and how he’d looked upon her and thought her a delicate flower. Now, he knew her to be stronger than oak.

“Let’s just hold off on the final good-byes,” Hamlet interjected. He kept his voice low, glancing over his shoulder at the retreating Valkyries. “We don’t need to battle all of them. We just need to get to the doors of Valhalla. The final key is around Hildr’s neck. If one of us can get it, we control the veil. I believe what the Norn told us, that Juliet cannot leave the Afterjord. But I also believe that if we control the barrier between life and death, their rules must change.”

“I agree.” It might have pained Romeo to admit it before. “So, which one of us should do the deed?”

“Romeo, you’re more skilled at melee combat, are you not?” Hamlet asked. At Romeo’s nod, he continued, “Then you keep them away from me, while I get the necklace.”

“And what will I do? Stand by prettily? I’m a Valkyrie now. I’m stronger and faster than the both of you. I’ll fight, the same as you, but I want to make sure I’m doing something helpful.” Juliet snapped, and Romeo’s heart nearly burst with pride.

“You have the spear. You can’t maneuver in close combat, but you can keep enemies from reaching Romeo, on the ground and in the air. I have no doubt the Valkyrie will attack from above.” Hamlet’s mouth set in a grim line. “Juliet, nothing can harm you. You are quite literally unstoppable, unless someone gets their hands on you and holds you back. Do not let that happen. You may be our only hope. Are we ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be in the face of certain death,” Romeo said with a long, slow breath. When the other two gave him a strange look, he shrugged. “It isn’t like I haven’t done this before. Just in fewer numbers, and with fewer monsters.”

“Great. I’m the only inexperienced one here.” Hamlet looked back to the horde that awaited them, and grimaced.

Romeo clapped him on the shoulder. “Thank you, your highness. You did not have to sacrifice yourself for me, but you did.”

“It is no less than I would do for any of my friends.” He looked into Romeo’s eyes, and then into Juliet’s. “And you have become, in a very short time, people I cannot imagine living without.”

“We’re your friends, are we?” Juliet chided him.

“You can doubt the stars are fire. You can doubt that the sun moves in the sky. But you cannot doubt my friendship.” Hamlet took their hands. “I have no regret. No matter what happens.”

One of the Valkyrie approached. Hildr had not deigned to return to them, Romeo realized. Perhaps she knew their plan.

The Valkyrie did not touch the ground, but hovered in the air, spreading her wings, making herself more imposing. “Are you all still content to spill your blood today? Or have you changed your minds?”

Hamlet looked to Romeo. “I don’t know, are we content?”

It was true that Hamlet knew more about this place. It was also true that, when pressed for civility, Romeo was not terribly good at finding it.

But Romeo knew more about anger and fear.

“No. We are not content. We’re angry, and we’re thirsty for the blood of heroes. I say, come. Let us show you what we can do.”

The Valkyrie’s lips quirked, as though she found them funny. “I will inform my commander.”

Romeo felt Juliet’s stare before he looked down at her. She gave him a tremulous smile. “Is this…was I really worth it?”

He caught her up and kissed her, knowing full well it could be the last time. He let that form his answer, pouring all of his passion, all of his love, all of his fears and hopes for their future, into a single kiss.

They turned as one to face the sea of enemies. They could not stem the tide, but they could be the rock that broke the wave.

Romeo prayed it would be enough.

Chapter Nineteen

The battle was lost before it began. That was what made Hamlet fight.

He scanned the skies for Hildr, called out her name and demanded, “Are you too much of a coward to face me?”

There was a haughtiness to bravery that Hamlet knew well. It was easy to be brave when one had no fear of the consequences. She would come to him.

Juliet’s spear seemed to amuse the first of the horde; they struck out at her with teasing blows, and she fended them off admirably. One warrior chided, “Come on, girl, you’ve got nothing to prove. You’re just as dead as we all are.”

But not all of them seemed content to amuse themselves taunting a dead girl. One brushed her spear off easily enough and charged Romeo, axe above his head. Romeo took no time at all driving his sword between the Viking’s ribs. It was as smooth a motion as Hamlet had ever seen from a fencing master or trained warrior. Romeo plunged his blade and drew it back without pause, whipping a trail of blood from the Viking’s chest.

Juliet swung the tip of her spear in a wide arc, and Hamlet guessed it was instinct more than fear that made the warriors fall back.

Yes, the host of undead warriors was large, and yes, they were fearsome, but Bifröst proved excellent ground in their favor. Though the bridge was wide, it was still a bridge, and there wasn’t enough room for the entire opposing force to overcome them.

Then the Valkyrie came.

The winged women warriors were not held by the constraints of the bridge. One struck her spear downward, nearly cleaving Romeo’s head. He dodged the blow and swung his sword, but he couldn’t fight both the enemy in the air and the one on the ground, so he took to dodging the attacks of the Valkyrie while fighting off the warriors.

“Throw them off,” Hamlet shouted plunging his sword into the belly of a shocked warrior. He lifted his foot and kicked the man back. He tumbled from the side of the bridge. “That way, they can’t wake to fight us again!”

Hildr had that damned whistle around her neck, the tone of which would raise her army from the dead. Hamlet decided he would stomp on that, when he got the chance.

Romeo grabbed a warrior by the front of his vest, brought their foreheads together with a sickening crunch and tossed the man over the side. If this was how he fought weakened from poison, Hamlet could see why he’d been such a dangerous man in Verona.

Equally as dangerous was Juliet. For a noble woman, she had already proven herself surprisingly skilled in battle. Now with the power of the Valkyrie, she fought with the grace of a cat, almost dancing between the blows dealt to her. The warriors no longer played with her; their patience was up. Hamlet noted, as he kicked one back and narrowly missed the blade of a short sword to his ribs, that some of the Valkyrie hung in the air, watching Juliet in amusement.

Finally, Hildr came to him, as Hamlet knew she would. The Valkyrie was too stupidly prideful to let his insults go. No doubt, she had grand visions of murdering him where he stood.

“This has been very amusing, mortal. But it is time to end it,” she said with a weary sigh. “You’ve fought valiantly, et cetera.”

“I’m not leaving without that key.” He pointed to the chain around her neck. “We are not leaving without Juliet.”

“And without your father?” Hildr’s eyes sparkled with malice. “You came all this way to save a stranger, but you didn’t think to rescue him?”

Shame burned in Hamlet’s cheeks, and he hated how easily his face betrayed his emotions. “My father asked for revenge, not rescue.”

“You didn’t think that revenge would be sweeter if he delivered the killing blow himself?” Hildr’s lips twisted in a sneer. “You don’t want your father back.”

There was a scream, and Hamlet’s gaze jerked to Juliet. She held her spear aloft, roaring in anger, the end of it pierced through another Valkyrie’s wing. The Valkyrie struggled, like a kite in a strong wind, but could not break free, and Juliet tugged her down, down. One of the warriors drove a pole axe into Juliet’s back, and she fell forward.

“This was folly,” Hildr said with a laugh. “Must your friends die for you to see that?”

Juliet climbed to her feet, grimacing, but unharmed. The other Valkyrie limped away, dragging the spear, Juliet’s only weapon.

Romeo kicked another warrior back, but held fast to the man’s sword, so that as he tumbled backward, he was disarmed. Romeo tossed the sword to Juliet and she caught it, spinning to slash across the eyes of a Viking who moved to grab her.

At the sight of one of her sisters wounded, Hildr’s manner changed. She had thought, Hamlet surmised, that this would be an amusing diversion, a break in the monotony of the eternal battle in Valhalla. She had not expected them to fight so well. They had not expected a real fight.

Hildr raised her spear, lifted the whistle to her lips and blew a shrill call. The host charged as one, driving back Juliet, driving back Hamlet and Romeo.

Hamlet’s sword barely held Hildr’s spear. She did not banter with him now. There was no witty insult to pad her blows. She fought to kill him.

It was to Hamlet’s advantage. It helped to narrow his focus, to force his concentration. He had to live long enough to gain the key. That was all that mattered.

He was aware of only a few things, as he sparred with the Valkyrie. One was that despite the numerous warriors around them, none tried to strike him. She had marked him out, then, as her own prey, and they were expected to let her finish the job herself.

Romeo shouted, “Juliet, no!” and Hamlet’s attention jerked, only for a split second, to his friend. Only long enough to see Juliet lift him off his feet and throw him over the edge, to tumble down the chasm beneath Bifröst.

Hamlet did not have time to wonder at Juliet’s betrayal. Hildr had seen it as well, and in that moment she let herself become distracted. Hamlet grabbed at the chain around her neck and pulled sharply. It did not come undone.

“You mortal fool!” Hildr grabbed his wrist and wrenched it, hard. He tried to swing his sword at her, but she blocked it easily with his shield, and the impact tumbled the blade from his hand. The chain wound around his fist; though he released it, it would not release him.

“This is the same filament that bound Fenrir in legends of old. Did you really think I would leave the key in such a vulnerable position? To remove it, you would have to remove my head. That will not happen today.”

“Hamlet!” Juliet screamed, running to his side.

But it was far too late. Hildr took to the sky, dragging Hamlet with her, his legs kicking futilely. The chain cut into his wrist, and he feared it might sever his hand.

Below, Juliet was overcome. She fought, nobly, admirably, but she could not fight them all. He saw one Viking fall beneath her blade, another kicked viciously away, but they grabbed her, subdued her, and swarmed over her like ants.

“Let her go!” Hamlet shouted in Hildr’s laughing, cruel face. “Let her go, she’s nothing to do with you.”

“Oh, I think she’ll have quite a lot to do with me, once we get to know each other,” Hildr snorted. “Of all of you, she is the one with the bravest heart and the fairest face. She may be of great use to me.”

“Romeo will kill you!” Hamlet vowed. “Lay one finger upon his wife, and he will end you.”

“Yes, and he did so well at that task before.” She sneered. “It is not her flesh I desire, but her soul.”

Hamlet could not see Bifröst now. They soared ever upward, and he found himself clinging to Hildr’s shield arm, though he hated himself for so great a display of fear. “Where are you taking me? You won. Kill me now.”

“You’re right, I think this is far enough.” She gripped him by the back of his doublet, as though he weighed nothing at all and shook off his grip. The chain loosened, and his arm slipped free. “Let this be a warning to you, mortal, should you ever dare to tamper with the realm of the dead again. I will be waiting for you. And I will not be so merciful next time.”

With that, she released him, and he tumbled, down, down, endlessly, the wind whipping his face like a lash, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as he blinked against the speed of his fall. He saw Bifröst, only for a moment, as he plunged into the cavern beneath it. A spectral blue river rushed up at him, and he put his hands out to stop himself when he hit; that was the worst of it, the impact with the once intangible substance of the corpseways. It hit Hamlet all over, like a field of knives and rocks, and a shock of impact vibrated up his arm. Then everything went dark.

His first fear was that he had lost his sight when his head impacted the stone. Then he feared death, but that didn’t seem right either. He had walked with the dead, they did not feel this pain.

Then he heard the screaming. The wrenching screams of a wounded man dying.

A wounded man who wants to die.

Every movement was agony. His right arm wouldn’t move without spears of pain lancing his whole body. It hung at a strange angle, and he held it to his side as he went to Romeo.

The portal was stone, dark black as the walls of the cave around them, and Romeo clawed at it, beat it with his fists and howled.

Hamlet edged backward, found the cavern wall, and slid down it.

“Romeo and Juliet have been marked from birth to love each other across impossible barriers. Nothing you do can change that.”

Any warmth left in his heart froze.

“No! No, no, no!” Romeo slumped, sobbing, and with a last, wrenching breath, he screamed her name.

Hamlet would hear the sound in his nightmares until the day he died, and accept the punishment gratefully. No matter his good intention, no matter the love in his heart, he had failed his friend.

In the cold of the haunted caverns below Elsinore he ignored his pain and listened to his Romeo’s. He felt each ragged sob like the tail of a scourge against his unworthy heart.

It was Horatio that found them, hours later, Romeo weak and cold, Hamlet the same, blood from his broken arm slowed to a trickle down his side. It seemed ages before the guards arrived, Romeo’s friar with them. As they emerged from the cavern, into the full and glaring light of the morning sun, Hamlet knew only that he had been reborn into a cruel nightmare.