Valhalla Gold

CHAPTER SIX

Álvaro Sala watched with unrestrained delight as the inland taipan slithered through his fingers and glided up around his neck. He felt the smooth head of the world’s most venomous snake parting his long lampblack hair and pushing its way around the base of his skull. Moments later it appeared on the other side of his head, nudging through his hair once again like a wicked magician emerging through black velvet stage curtains. It slid back down into his hands and he wondered if the serpent was enjoying this game as much as he was.

Lit only by a narrow crack of light emanating from the entrance to the mountain cave a hundred feet behind him, a devilish grin could just be made out on the Andorran recluse’s morbidly thin face.

The man opposite him strained against the tension of the climbing ropes which Sala’s loyal thug, the convicted Belgian serial killer Marcus Deprez had used to lash him to the rocks at the back of the cave. High above them was Sala’s impressive luxury château, but down here in the cave systems far below was nothing but an eerie whistling wind and the stench of imminent death.

Álvaro grinned. “Tell me, Antonius… did you ever think it would end like this?”

“Threaten me all you like, Álvaro, but we’ve known each other for long enough to understand why I can’t tell you what you want to know.”

Sala paused as the taipan made another circuit of his neck. “And we’ve known each long enough, Antonius, to know what will happen to you if you do not get what your fragile body so badly craves. Now you are here, you face the same fate as I.”

Antonius attempted a laugh, but the nearness of his terrible destiny killed it in his dry, constricted throat. “The Oracle was right to ostracize you, Álvaro. I can see that clearly now, and you must surely see it too. Your failure in Ethiopia was quite unforgivable.”

Sala’s grin faded from his gaunt face as Antonius’s words blew gently away on the cave’s cold breeze. “I’m very disappointed in you, Antonius. I thought when you accepted my invitation to come here you would bring me better news than this. Now, you force me to act against my own will.”

“Be sensible, Álvaro! We both know why I can’t tell you what you need to hear. No one goes against the Oracle.” Antonius yanked at the chains holding him fast but there was no chance of escape, only the sound of the steel links rattling against the rocks in mockery of his dire situation.

Sala nodded his head thoughtfully. “I suppose you realize by now that I will not simply allow you to perish the normal way.”

Antonius’s eyes crawled from Sala’s face to the snake in his arms. “Yes, I thought that unlikely. Mercy was never in your character, Álvaro.”

“Ha! You talk of mercy after you and your brethren tried to consign me to the worst fate imaginable.”

“You deserve it.”

Sala was silent for a short time as he paced around the cave deep in thought. His most loyal personal security guard, Marcus Deprez, leaned up against part of the rock face and watched in silence as the exchange unfolded, his only animation being to light an unfiltered Gauloises caporal and blow a smoke ring into the cave’s cold atmosphere. A heaving, rasping cough followed moments later.

“I deserve it, you say — how curious… In all your years on this planet, Antonius, did you ever find your way to the North?”

Now, goaded by the question, Antonius’s deep laugh found its way to the surface at last. “The North? I know the North better than you ever will, Álvaro!”

Sala took a step forward and raised the snake closer to Antonius’s face. “You mock me, but you cannot begin to imagine the hatred burning in my heart for your damned Athanatoi. My vengeance will be savage and final.”

Now Antonius laughed. “You of all people must surely know how many men have sworn to take their revenge on us, and you must also know they all failed. We are too mighty to be touched by mortals.” He paused for effect and smiled smugly at Sala. “You are a mortal now, aren’t you, Álvaro?”

Sala’s face began to twitch with rage and he had to fight hard not to squeeze the snake in his hands, such was the level of anger coursing through his veins and muscles. “Do you know, dear Antonius, how I will destroy the Athanatoi and take my revenge?”

“Enlighten me.”

“By exploiting the weak link in your chain.”

“And what is that?”

“It’s the same weak link that has brought down countless empires… the factions.”

Antonius scoffed, but kept his eyes on the writhing taipan. “What are you talking about, Álvaro? Have you finally gone mad?”

“You know what I’m talking about, Antonius. Throughout history the story of conquered peoples has been one of exploiting factions and sects — I believe Philip, the king of the ancient kingdom of Macedon summed it up very well over two thousand years ago when he called it dīvide et īmpera… divide and conquer.” He leaned in ever closer to his victim. “Is that right, dear Antonius — you knew the king, didn’t you?”

“I have nothing more to say to you, Álvaro.”

Sala gave an evaluating nod. “I don’t need your words or thoughts, brother. Those days are far behind us. I simply need you to know, before your death, that I will destroy your precious brotherhood — or should I say cult? — and that I know how. That I will exploit the sects and when I reach the dark heart of the Athanatoi I will tear it out with my bare hands and burn it.”

“You’re insane even to contemplate it,” Antonius said sharply. “My death at the fangs of that serpent will be as nothing compared to what they will do to you if you dare to challenge them.”

Sala paced the cave for a moment and then spoke quietly. “This taipan was caught in the deserts of South Australia, Antonius. Its venom contains a presynaptic neurotoxin that will paralyse you. The next thing you will experience is a terrible difficulty in drawing breath.”

“You’re wasting your breath.”

“You will probably die of suffocation first, but there is a possibility that the hemotoxin in the venom — a powerful procoagulant which enters the blood and causes the activation of a clotting cascade — will lead to blood clots forming all over your body. Either way, the pitiful remnants of your life will be characterized by unimaginable agony. This will occur less than half an hour after the envenomation.”

“I mean it, Álvaro. If I told you anything we both know my punishment at the hands of the Athanatoi would have me begging for your snake.”

“I’m not so sure… Remember, just one bite from this creature will deliver a fatal dose of these neurotoxins, hemotoxins and myotoxins into your bloodstream.”

“I care not what your intentions are.”

“I tell you only as a courtesy, so you know what fate is waiting for you, lurking like a hideous, grasping shadow-creature at the foot of your bed. Your ancient life will now come to an end, here in this cave. Yes… you will now come face to face with your mortality, just as you never thought would happen, and more than that, you will die the way I want you to, because I hold that power in my hands, literally…”

Antonius looked once again at the snake.

Sala grinned. “A little like Loki.”

“Loki… you can teach me nothing about Loki, Álvaro. Believe me.”

Sala closed his eyes and spoke as if conjuring the memories from a dream. “After trying to hide from the goddess Skaði by turning himself into a salmon, Loki was finally caught! I thought my inviting you to a spot of salmon fishing in Béarn in order to lure you up here was a particularly amusing touch, don’t you think?”

“With every poisonous word that tumbles from your sour lips, you show why the Oracle was right to expel you.”

“Talking of poison, as you knew Loki so well you will know what happened next.”

“Of course I know what happened next! He was lashed to the rocks beneath a waterfall with the entrails of his own son, Nari, and then killed when Skaði secured a poisonous snake over him and allowed its venom to drip down and kill him. His loving wife, Sigyn remained at his side and caught the venom in a bowl she held at the serpent’s dripping fangs. I presume that is what this ludicrous charade is all about!”

“You forgot the best bit — the bit about how when she went to empty the bowl some of the venom would fall into Loki’s face and in response, his painful, agonized writhing was so horrendous that it caused earthquakes.” Sala stroked the taipan.

“Don’t forget that Loki escaped from his chains, fled Ragnarök — the Doom of the Gods — and helped the giant spirits destroy the cosmos.”

Sala glanced theatrically over his shoulder for a moment. “I see no sign of Sigyn, Antonius, so this time there will be no escape.”

“Will there not? I’m starting to think you’re bluffing, Álvaro. You always were all talk.”

“Was I now?” Sala gave a low chuckle and ordered Deprez to set up the apparatus. Moments later the Belgian killer was rigging up a bowl above Antonius’s head and connecting it to some twine. Then he placed a candle inside a metal lantern, threaded the twine above it and tightened Antonius’s chains so he couldn’t move an inch.

“You see here a simple device, Antonius,” Sala explained coolly. “When Deprez here lights the candle in the lantern, you will have around fifteen minutes to tell me the location of Valhalla, and if you fail to do so the heat of the flame will break the twine and the bowl of poison will pour in your wound, killing you in agony. This way there is much more torment than a simple snakebite would induce and I liked the irony of the bowl being used to kill rather than to save.”

“What wound?” Antonius asked, confused.

Sala smiled and snapped his fingers. Deprez padded over to the bound man and pulled out a long hunting knife. The blade flashed dully in the low light as he drew it slowly across Antonius’s chest. The soft flesh split open like a ripe fruit, and blood poured keenly from the fresh wound and stained his chest. He suppressed a scream and clenched his jaw hard.

Sala smirked. “That wound.”

Antonius stared in horror as Sala then gripped the snake’s head and forced an envenomation from its fangs into the stone bowl.

“I will never tell you where Valhalla is! If a creature like you ever got its hands on the power hidden behind its walls the world would be brought to a precipice.”

“Fifteen minutes, Antonius, and then you will share a similar fate as your hero, Loki — only no escape for you!”

Sala walked slowly from the cave, leaving Deprez to guard his old friend, but the days of friendship were a long time ago. Too long to imagine. Would Antonius talk? He doubted it, but no matter. Soon he would have the location of Valhalla from another source — his man Smets was seeing to that. He didn’t need Antonius to give it to him — he just wanted to force it out of him for sport. That fool in the cave would die whatever happened today and Valhalla would still be his.

If his long life had taught him anything, it was that there was always more than one way to catch a rabbit — even if it was a very fast Irish rabbit that knew how to get away.