“This is like sailing into Niflheim,” grumbled Egil as the ship crept forward.
Niflheim was the world of mist and darkness, where the goddess Hel ruled the corpses of dishonorable men and the serpent Nidhogg gnawed at the roots of the World Tree, Yggdrasil. Hakon crossed himself at its mention and stared into the grayness ahead. Dense billows pregnant with moisture swirled around Dragon, slickening the decks and shrouding the land they now approached. Gathering moisture dripped from the hair and faces of the warriors at oar and the fangs of the prow beast. The lack of wind left room for a maddening chorus of directionless sounds that tormented Hakon"s nerves: the soft slap of oars against water, the creak of the ship"s strakes, the shrill cry of unseen gulls. It was cold, but Hakon"s appr
