FSE

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Burial

Scattered light and dark. An impact on slick mud. A slope that dragged them deeper and unable to find their feet. Torch beams blinding as much as the murk, water, moss, stone, shingle and shale. Cries of pain and panic lodged one shard of sense that locked itself into Liam's brain, straight from the heart, and that was to protect Bernie. Protect her at all cost.

The slide and spinning made trying to grasp for any finger-holds impossible in the confusion. Liam gave up trying and instead pulled hard on Bernie's arm, locking her against his body. No sooner than he did, the slope gave way, a sudden echo of Bernie screaming again, before they plunged into a pool of water. Frigid and dark enough to block their lights, and deep enough to fully immerse them both. Cold, dark and silty water, the din of air bubbles around his ears and a muted patter of tumbling stones on his body almost brought Liam to a panic. Almost. Adrenaline was an old friend, older than even Bernie. Fight or flight locked in. His mind spun to assess, plan, then act.

Liam went still, and the pause in movement finally let him take a second or two to gather some of his sense of place. Just a few seconds of nothing where a minute of floundering could prove fatal. Find up and down. Which way did the bubbles rise and rocks fall? Liam twisted briefly and tested where the world wanted him to move. He kicked his legs and tried to swim to the surface, only for his feet to press against the ground. Still holding Bernie's arm, Liam secured her and stood upright.

Still submerged up to the top of his chest, he hauled Bernie up into his arms to keep her out of the water, then and spluttered to get the taste of mud slurry out of his mouth. With air now flowing, he squinted around through the silt in his eyes. He could see the beam of light from Bernie's headlamp move to and fro as she looked around frantically. If she was moving, to his absolute relief, she was conscious, even if she was she hissing and groaning between rapid breaths.

“You okay?” he asked, his teeth chattering.

“Huh!?” She replied but didn't look at him, instead just babbling something between gasps and confused screams with too little air.

“Bernie?” Liam looked down at her, trying to catch her gaze, but her eyes were wide and wild. “Shit. Hold on.” Liam struggled and managed to wipe one eye on his shoulder enough to see, and saw a muddy, sloped but solid granite shore. He waded to it, rising from the water, and let Bernie down gently onto her backside once free of the pool. Liam cleared his eyes with the drier inside lining of his coat and, finally able to see clearly, Liam knelt down beside Bernie. He pulled the lamp off of her head and put his hands on her shoulders.

Finally, her eyes snapped onto him, but she was trembling beyond the cold. Raw panic. The sheltered girl dicing with her first taste of danger.

Calm and slow, he said, “breathe with me, Bernie. In.” He sniffed a long pull of air, then paused for a few seconds. “Out.” He released his breath, and repeated.

Her hyperventilation persisted for a time, but his touch and focus began to crack the frantic shell. Her narrow shoulders relaxed a little and her breaths also settled.

“There we go... are you alright? Does anything hurt?”

“N- no....” After a few more breaths, she tried to move, only to hiss as one arm reached across and grabbed the other.. “Fff... I think my arm's broken.”

Considering everything, Liam knew it could have been worse, but much, much better. “Fuck. Okay, hold on. Let's take stock here.” He stood and finally took in their surroundings. Assess, plan, act.

They were in a similar chamber as above, though obviously flooded on one side with the hole overhead through which they had fallen, two neatly hewn openings on the dry section uphill from the pool. One a kept plain, but the other instantly drew both their gazes. It looked incredibly similar to the barrow entrance, only without the gaudy paint over the runes, unscathed by time or weather and neatly chisled.

Liam gave Bernie a once over to make sure she was alright besides her arm and settled on what to do. Without the wind-chill biting at them, and recalling some old survival training from his youth, he slowly reached for her and slowly unzipped her coat. “Here, let me take a look and wring out some of this water.”

Bernie relented, wincing as she released her injured limb and he peeled the drenched layer off of her, careful not to drag or pull on her broken arm. She grunted, but didn't cry out.

“You don't have to be brave with me,” Liam said as he tried to better inspect her arm. “I already know you're tough.”

Bernie pulled something between a grin and a grimace. “Dude, the pain I've been through the last few years? And the drugs I'm taking on the regular for it? This is nothing. Still hurts like a bitch, but last thing you need is me whinging.”

Liam could see a clear deformation in her forearm. “Yep. That's broken alright. Fan-fucking-tastic. Let's get some help.” He pulled off his own coat and took out his phone, which was wet but he quietly thanked himself for a water-resistant case. He couldn't help but think of how cliché it would be for it to not work as he dialled for the emergency services, but Bernie suddenly grabbed his wrist.

“Can we at least look around first? If you make that call, we're giving up our shot at this.”

Liam gawped at her. “Are you joking? Your arm's broken! We're probably bloody trapped down here! And besides, it'll take them a while to not only get here but find a way to rope us out of here. We'll have time to do some poking around when they're on the way.”

“Fuck that,” Bernie snapped. “This is our discovery, Liam. Our one and only chance to go on an adventure together and discover something nobody else has! I'm begging you, please!”

With his hand hovering over the call button, he squinted past her headlamp to look into Bernie's pleading baby blue eyes. “I get it. Really, I do, but your health is more important-”

“I'm already dying, for fuck's sake!” she screamed, the chamber echoing her voice. “Probably faster than my arm will fully heal, I'll probably be bedridden by the time I can even use it. I'm already fucked, so let me have this! Let me give this to you!” Bernie's voice cracked and tears started cutting through the grime on her gaunt cheeks. “I just wanted to give you something special before the end. Fulfil your dream of finding something nobody else has ever seen.”

Liam looked at Bernie's fractured arm and the phone, then into her eyes again. Those beautiful, bright blue eyes. His heart thundered and ached, then took over from his brain. “... here's what we'll do. We'll find somewhere for you to rest, and we'll stay in constant contact while I have a quick look around and take some footage. Once I've scouted the place, or if you sound like you're struggling in any way... I'm making the call. Understand?”

Bernie sniffled, but nodded. “Deal. That's fine.”

With a deep sigh, Liam locked his phone and set about wringing Bernie's puffy coat over and over, squeezing out as much water as possible, but the padding was acting like a sponge. It fared worse than his more thinner but more robust waterproof jacket, which only looked damp rather than sodden. With only a little squeezing of his own coat, he draped it over Bernie's shoulders.

“Take mine for now. Let's find somewhere to hole up for a bit.”

“What about you? You give me shit for my condition then set yourself up for hypothermia?”

Liam shrugged. “It isn't actually that bad down here. Less 'bitey' from the wind at least. Either way it doesn't matter, let's hurry up and find somewhere for you to park your arse so you don't make your arm worse and I'll start exploring this barrow.” With an obvious route to investigate first in the form of the runic archway, they entered. Then both gasped.

Compared to the flooded chamber, or even the initial grave site, this one was a fully furnished shrine. A boat made of old and withered boards that still largely held their shape, and the walls were lined with the tattered remnants of woven banners. The ship itself was even on a raised slate platform and surrounded with burial goods, from beads and coins to Tating-ware pots, glass urns and other trinkets.

“Incredible,” Bernie whispered. They both remained silent and stared for a moment before she added, “hah, I just had like a Goonies moment, y'know? With the kids finding One-Eyed Willy's treasure? I'd say we've also hit the jackpot in both historic finds and valuables. Just a few less mob family crews chasing us and no doubt we're gonna fall foul of the Treasure Act instead of walking away with enough gems to save a housing estate.”

“Way to spoil the moment, Bernie...” Liam grumbled. “But, yeah, I somehow doubt we'd get any finders fee if we go public with any of this. Plus it's a lot of delicate stuff to try and move, not to mention finding a buyer. I doubt we could just sit on it and go on the Antiques Roadshow in a couple of years and pretend to be all shocked when they say it's worth a few grand.” Liam shrugged. “Never mind. We're here for the discovery, not cash, and they can't take us documenting this location and uploading it from us though. C'mon, let's take a closer look at the site.”

Liam led them up the platform stairs to look inside the boat, and even more questions arose. There were bones, as expected, even a helmet and a sturdy looking broadsword, if both tarnished and pockmarked. They were laid in place where a human should be yet they weren't the bones of a human. They were huge, easily twice as big and more so in thickness, as well as a large carnivorous animal skull above even the helmet, though lacking any of its sharp teeth.

Bernie ducked down and touched one of the larger bones. A fibula or thigh bone. It was longer than her whole leg and half her torso combined. “The hell kind of creature is this?”

Looking uneasy, Liam slowly craned his neck to examine the skull. “I think it's a bear? I didn't think they were still a thing around the Viking era.”

“Yeah, I think you're right. Emphasis on think, anyway. Zoology isn't exactly my forté, but something seems off with them. If it is a bear, they haven't been native to these islands for a long time. Longer than even the Vikings have been around.”

“Weird,” Liam whispered, and had a longer think.

“It's not that weird, I guess.” Bernie flicked her gaze to him, then back at the bones. “Whether it was one of the dwindling native bears or they brought one with them as a pet doesn't matter, though this formation confuses me the most now. I know animal pelts and bones were buried with Vikings, but not like this. They were gifts to send them into the afterlife, not... whatever this is. Looks ritualistic, maybe? Like the bear's meant to be the burial victim in lieu of the actual Berserker. Like a totemic facsimile?”

The more they looked, the less they understood. The complete absence of human remains, just the helmet and sword, with the blade braced atop the bear's sternum and pointed down and the paws placed like hands over the grip. They dwarfed the weapon to a degree the sword would be like a dagger with a comically tiny handle, even if a bear could wield such a thing. Liam squinted at the intricate but still huge bones. “Huh... they kinda look like hands. Never realised that.”

Bernie shrugged. “Yeah, they kinda do.” She adjusted her headlamp as she focused on the helmet, then lifted her leg and stepped into the boat.

“Hey,” Liam snapped. “Don't tread on someone's grave!”

“There's something stuffed in the helmet. I just wanna look.”

Still reluctant to tread on an obvious open grave, Liam watched from afar as she reached for the pocked, dented and rusted iron helmet, turned it over and reached inside.

“Oh, it's the teeth and claws of the bear, but like a necklace?” She put her hand inside and tried to lift it out, but it seemed to be stuck. She then hooked the helm against her elbow, careful not to touch her broken forearm, and tugged at the morbid trinket, only to cuss under her breath and suck on her finger. “Welp, add a potential infection to the list of things killing me. I poked myself on a tooth.” She examined it and the pair winced as blood trickled from the wound.

“I warned you, Bernie,” Liam sighed as she finally pulled the necklace free. They were clean and well kept, despite the holes bored into them to string them together and one fang now having a bloodied tip courtesy of Bernie. They were set in an alternating pattern of teeth and claws besides the two biggest canines taking the middle space.

Bernie put it around her neck and grinned like a kid at Christmas. “I'm keeping this. Nobody'll want to buy some nasty old teeth for more than a few quid anyway.”

Liam threw his arms wide. “You know what? While we're being disrespectful and sacrilegious...” He pulled on the boat's boards, with the dry and withered wood cracking quickly under his strength and he tossed them into a pile. “Might as well damn myself, make you a splint and start up a fire so you can get warm while I explore the rest of the barrow, plus we know it should vent out the way we fell in. Now, you remember what we promised, right?”

Bernie rolled her eyes but nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Constant contact, if I start feeling worse we're bugging out, and I'll park my arse next to the fire and keep it going.”

“Glad to hear it.” Liam inspected the wood and huffed. “I'm surprised this is in as good nick as it is.”

“Traditionally made pine resin coated wood's good stuff,” Bernie explained. “Considering this was probably a ceremonial boat it was likely never used in water, and just as likely over-waxed, so better protected than most. It likely only started truly getting hit by the elements recently.”

Liam took out his lighter, which he shook, blew on then flicked the striker a few times to help dry it out, and set alight one beam. The dry wood rapidly took, and he placed it into the pile and poked it around to let the flames spread. “There you go.” He tore off a few more boards, stepping on one end and breaking them into pieces for easier use. “Now, park arse.”

Bernie awkwardly leaned one way, then the other, trying to find a comfortable way to sit, only for Liam to reach out to help, which she gratefully took. He supported her weight until she was sat down, then he unfurled Bernie's coat beside the flames to help it dry. She offered him back his jacket, but he shook his head.

“I'll be fine. If I start getting a chill or I need any of my tools, it gives me an excuse to come back. That said, I'll take my knife just in case.”

“Expecting trouble?”

“The place could have some beasties, sure. Especially if there's another way out and it happens to be a den to some badgers or something.”

“Fair.” Bernie pulled open the jacket and Liam unclasped a well hidden and sheathed military knife tucked into a pocket in its lining.

He strapped the knife onto his belt, then took Bernie's bandana from her coat and a couple of studier beams of wood, placing them along Bernie's arm. Without any words, just a glance from him and a nod from her, he wrapped the cloth around the wood as she gritted her teeth and, with a few knots, her broken arm was secured in with a splint.

Bernie removed her headlamp and handed it to Liam, who traded it with his pocket torch. Once Liam had finished preparing, Bernie pleaded, “just keep me up to date with any cool shit!”

“Don't sweat it. I'll take pictures and videos as I find stuff so you're not too bored.”

Not wanting to waste time, Liam headed back through the flooded chamber and then the other passage. He was met with a long, cramped corridor with staggered rooms either side. He peeked inside the first and saw several headstones with engravings.

It was a mass grave-site or sorts, but there was deliberate reverence in how it was set up. Well spaced gaps between each. Liam slowly approached and knelt before the first. The stone was carved, given some embellishments but not many. The sort a good stonemason would be able to put together with a deft hand but in mass amounts. Simple, humble, but made with care. Liam scrutinised the grave closer, adjusting his head lamp to angle down.

More runes, similar to the one on the surface though, again, neater and unspoiled. He wasn't going to try to translate them with his limited knowledge now, not with Bernie being far better at it anyway. He did as promised and began recording each with his phone, stopping to check the pictures were good enough quality after the phone's dip into the muddy pool earlier before moving to the next.

Each chamber yielded more graves. So many that it soon became apparent this had to be a site of either a settlement that died from disease or some sort of battle or slaughter of said township. The presence of a Viking berserker amidst seemingly a large number of thrall Britons still seemed a little odd, at least this far from the East coast and considering the strange burial.

Between the time taken on the graves, and the sheer number of them, the gravity of it all sank in. Undiscovered lives lost. Lives of people who had been liked and loved. A tragedy to which only he and Bernie were now privy. Actual history unwritten by modern words. Bernie had been right. It had almost cost their lives and she had been injured in the event, but she hit the bullseye with this find. He was the first man to likely have seen these graves in centuries, maybe even a thousand years. This was one of two things Liam had always dreamed of finding, the other being definitive proof of something beyond nature. He promised himself to thank Bernie later for staying his call to the emergency services.

Methodically and carefully, Liam recorded and documented every single grave in each chamber he came across. Their story needed to be remembered, the mystery uncovered and retold. Never before did Liam feel such weight on his heart, even despite the amount of forgotten homes and ruined buildings he had investigated. He was proud of his work as an urban explorer, always amazed at what had been left behind like paintings and albums, collectables and objects once loved and cherished. Sure, he sometimes reclaimed and sold on old articles during his dives, but these were things only going to waste otherwise. He restored them too, becoming adept at furniture repair and the like. This was entirely beyond any of that. He truly didn't care about the treasures in the berserker tomb this time. The burden of the story was heavy enough.

After a number of videos and pictures, and before turning a corner in the main tunnel, he returned to Bernie. “Let's set up a transfer and you can be browsing what I've found. So far all I've seen are a bunch of graves, but you're better at this than I am. How are you feeling?”

“So far so good. Arm still sucks but it's dulling. I've also taken a bunch of footage of the bear grave so that can be spliced in later.”

“Ace. Here, check these out.” Liam sent Bernie what he'd taken so far. She flicked through it as Liam warmed himself and added more fuel to the fire.

Bernie pouted. “Yeah, they look like Briton grave markers considering these names aren't Nordic. Elein... Rhian... Owain. Might be something useful if I had time to cross-reference some of these names with online records but that can wait. Though damn, there sure are lots of them, huh?”

“What do you think? A sort of graveyard was my guess. With this many, it's gotta be some sort of settlement, or maybe a war took place?”

“Bet you a fiver it's a little of both,” Bernie answered. “With burial planning and arrangement taken into account going by these pics, but also done in a way that lends itself to a known, interconnected group, like it probably was a village of Britons in Thrall to a Viking leader going by the reverence shown to that grave there.” She nodded to the bear bone grave. “Obviously there were survivors to perform these rites, but they likely moved on after.”

Liam nodded along, happy to hear her get into her analytical groove. It felt normal, calming, despite the situation.

Bernie continued, “as to who they were fighting? That's a tough one. We don't have any definitive dates. Could be the Danish invasion trying to sink its teeth into Wessex to get around the main front in Kent, and they slaughtered a village that just so happened to have a Viking or two, of whom fled Northumbria and settled down here. Or, if it's later than that, maybe even part of The Anarchy civil war, circa eleven-forty to eleven-fifty give or take a few years. At any rate, it also lends itself to there being another way out, since I think where we fell was covered on purpose, as if they were trying to hide something.”

Liam chuckled and couldn't help but rub her head, ruffling Bernie's wispy red hair. “You're such a fucking nerd.”

She snickered back and slapped his offending hand. “Someone has to carry your dumb-as-a-brick, himbo arse to make your web series actually well researched. You're lucky you're good looking and buff or people would have tuned out ages ago.”

Liam's mirth dropped, as did his grin. Not from any sense of ego, but the back-handed compliment spawned a bitter hope.

Realising what she'd said, Bernie also froze up as she scratched her head and turned away. The heartache superseded that in her arm and she refocused. “A- anyway, if I'm right, hopefully there's some records carved somewhere. Or a group epitaph or something.”

“Then I'd best try and find it, eh?” Liam stood and raised his phone, and started another recording of himself for his channel. “So here we are, in the barrow proper. This place really is an untouched mystery. I didn't even know for sure if this was going to be a ParanormaLiam exclusive discovery, but that's how it's shaping up! Here's a quick look at some of the burial sites we've located so far.”

Bernie added, beaming, “exclusive discovery, stupidly documenting trespass evidence, poking around blind... it's all swings and roundabouts.”

Liam ended the recording and scoffed. “Come on, really? You better edit that out when we put all this together.”

“No promises or guarantees,” Bernie replied with a wink. “Now get your cute, well sculpted arse moving before you use this as an excuse to call it quits.”

Growing more curious himself, and bolstered by Bernie's good spirits with another pointed compliment in spite of her injury, Liam did just that as he returned to the long corridor and to his exploration. He documented more and more similar graves, unsure if any might lead to some clue that Bernie recognised, then paused as he noticed another corner, possibly doubling back on themselves to a chamber adjacent to the Berserker tomb. Liam decided to check in. “Bernie?” he called out.

After a moment, with his voice echoing through the passage, Bernie's voice called back, “yeah, still good.”

Satisfied, Liam turned the corner, and came to a dead stop. The skeletal remains of someone clad in the age-frayed grey robes sat at the far end of the passage, surrounded by scattered rocks and boulders. One of the larger rocks sat upon the leg of the figure, but beside them was a thick leather cylinder. It looked like a scroll case, curiously unscathed.

Liam almost salivated at the scene and what secrets could hide within the case, though he knelt beside the remains and looked it over with a respectful moment to the dead, studying and looking it over for clues. A short figure, with long, withered strands of grey hair were scattered over its shoulders, and one eye socket was deformed, and a different scrap of cloth rested upon its shoulder. An eyepatch, Liam guessed. A closer look at the finer features of the skeleton also lent itself to a female figure, with wider hips and narrower shoulders, but he couldn't be certain.

Plucking up his courage and offering a silent prayer, Liam took the leather case. It had a fetching bronze buckle, dented but still retaining its lustre, which he carefully unfastened. The material was still supple, as if untouched by its thousand year wait. He held his breath as he pulled open the lid and peered inside. Both the sight of pristine parchment and the scent of fresh leather made him pause and frown. Even in perfect conditions, parchment shouldn't last a thousand years. Likewise the container was hardly airtight, though supple leather would offer a decent seal against the elements until that tarnished and broke down.

Liam gingerly reached within and gave the parchment the lightest touch. Solid, preserved animal hide. Liam then slowly pulled the pages free, all written in D?nsk Tunga. Old Norse. Liam recognised some basic lettering and common words thanks to Bernie's tutoring over the years, but this was in a flowing hand with elaborate words and phrases. The only standout to him at a casual glance was a dark brown stain on the corner of the final page, marring the pristine parchment, but that made him scrutinise it even more, and he realised the final page was written in an even more obtuse way. None of it made sense in the slightest. Every time he thought he could read a word, it almost... shifted. Transformed.

Confusion aside, Liam knew that with a find as grand as this, he had to return to Bernie. He replaced the scrolls and headed back to the tomb at a jog, only slowing as he passed the flooded room and entered the tomb and saw her slumped over. His breath caught in his throat and his resistance to the cold ceased as the blood in his veins froze over. “Bernie?”

She sat bolt upright and gasped. “Yeah! What's... you, uh...” She fidgeted and adjusted Liam's jacket that had slipped from her shoulders. “Just... fighting off a throb in my arm. You find anything?”

“You absolutely sure you're still good?”

“Sure,” she said and looked away. “Ju- just bored without more to keep my mind off the pain. That's all. It's tedious work checking all these old names with little reference to go by, and my phone's internet connection's shit this far out in bum-fuck nowhere and underground.”

Liam took out his own phone and scanned her features as his finger hovered over the nine key. Three taps and this could all be over.

Insulted, Bernie scoffed and snapped, “I'm fine, Liam. Yes, my arm hurts, but I'm still good to go. Have you got something for me or you just checking in?”

He hesitated again, then slipped his phone back into his pocket before holding out the leather case. “Perfectly intact parchment in Old Norse.”

Bernie's eyes sparkled as she regarded the offered tube. “Dude. DUDE. No fucking way!” She took it and fiddled with the clasp with her working arm, and with the initial excitement giving way to less reverence than his examination than her own brand of precise care for history, slowly pulled the pages free and began to read them, at least giving them a cursory look over first. “It's... a diary? Or some sort of admission of guilt. It's worded like an apology. Where'd you find this?”

“On some skeletal remains. A one eyed person.”

Bernie flicked her gaze to him before returning to the pages. “... she's a witch.”

Liam almost scoffed. “I'm assuming not the pointy-hatted, broom wielding type?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. A wise-woman, shaman, et-cetera. You know the type. A woman who knew more than most ignorant peasant types and dabbled in rituals and rudimentary alchemy, and was therefore scary. Gunnbj?rg. That's her name. So... war saviour, or thereabouts as a more direct translation for the name.”

“Good. At least you've got something interesting for you to read up on while I continue exploring then. Gunnbj?rg was pinned under a rockfall which I assume means we might be near a potential exit.”

Bernie sucked on her teeth. “Then watch yourself too, Liam. If the tunnel's unstable, then the second you hear any sort of disturbance, you haul your arse back here. Shit, if I hear any sort of collapse, I'll be calling for help. So let's just both keep an ear out. Besides, I think even if we call it quits now, we've discovered some good shit. At this point it's just avoiding the cops if we can help it.”

“Sure, I can agree to that. I'll leave you to your reading.”