Once I was back outside I handed the box over to Lokison, who lovingly caressed it with a soft smile. He flipped a hidden latch and pulled out what looked like a golden half collar, the ends were stylized snarling bears, and the curved part looked like multiple thin bars of gold twisted together. The eyes of the bears and their collars were cut emeralds. The whole thing was absolutely beautiful as it almost glowed in the sunlight. Orm and I sat there in awe of the craftsmanship and artistry of the piece.
“This is what is called a torque. Magnhild’s mother brought it with her, along with the box, when she came to these lands. It became your grandmother’s when her mother died. This will convince her that you mean her no harm and will convince her to hear you out,” Lokison handed the torque to me, its heft solid in my hand.
“How do we know what has been happening in the village isn’t because of her?” Orm asked.
“If she was to do something like this, she would have done it long ago and targeted her husband.” I think Lokison shot a glare at Orm, but it was hard to read the wiggling patterns in the old man’s wrinkled countenance. “She may be a völva, but völvas are not the cursed or unclean ‘things’ you think they are. I fear that age may have settled into her mind, especially being mostly alone all of these years, but if anyone has answers, it is Magnhild.”
“How do you know all of this Lokison?” I asked, still unable to draw my attention fully away from the torque. There was something about it, more than its beauty, which drew me to it, that made something inside me shiver and made my heart pound in excitement.
“As you both know, I’m not from this village. I’m not from this land, either. My land is across the sea and is one of the lands that others have gone viking to. I befriended one and was convinced to leave my home and its people, even though they ostracized me much like your village did to Magnhild. She and I... We see a world that most don’t even realize is there. We learned how it affects this world: what stones, metals, and plants enhance or diminish what things, though she and I each have different gifts. My friend was willing to bring me back to this land with him in return for healing him of a grave sickness. He cared not if I was a völva, as you call those touched by the spirit realm, only that I saved his life when it would have been easier and more practical to end it.”
“You’re one of the most feared berserkers ever known,” Orm pointed out. “How is it that you heal? How is it that you’re a völva and no one ever knew?”
“There are tricks to being a berserker boy, one that involves a ritual and a special drink that drives one into a blood-thirsty rage. The good berserkers aren’t broken by doing so, the bad ones... don’t live through the experience or die at their own hands over the memory of what they did.”
“Bah,” Orm spat. “Taking your own life is the way to the dark, tortured caverns of Niflheim to be watched over by Loki’s half-rotted daughter.”
“Shut your mouth boy,” Lokison growled as he pointed his whittling knife to the younger man. “Who says the only battles someone faces are on the field? People have battles within their minds, within their bodies, and just because you can’t see the enemy doesn’t mean people aren’t fighting one. The Valkyries honor bravery in the face of hopeless danger, of having fear and continuing on. Your gods are not my first gods, but since living in this land I’ve come to know them well and may Thor strike you down if you insult those whose battles you don’t understand.”
“Lokison,” I said, redirecting the conversation to the matter at hand, “when you speak of my grandmother you speak so lovingly, so kindly. Why?”
“I’ve been in love with her since the moment I laid eyes on her,” the wrinkles shifted to a warm, heartfelt smile. “I was considered too old and was a stranger; there was no chance I could have married her when I first met her. Once she left your grandfather I would go on hunting trips searching for her, until one day, a year later, I found where she had made her new home. It took me another year to earn her trust and woo her, and in our own way, we are married.”
“Why did you never go to stay with her?” My attention was fully on this old man in front of me, a man that I knew my whole life, who now seemed like I didn’t know at all.
“I hid the fact that I was a völva here because I long for community, acceptance, a place where I belong. I would never be happy alone in the woods, not even with my Magnhild. She had always drawn so much attention, good and bad, for her looks as well as her abilities, so your grandmother was happy to be on her own. It has been a long time since I’ve been hale enough to visit her, and she is not due for a trip here for another moon cycle. My want for privacy while still being part of the community is why I built my hut here, away from others but close enough to be part of the village.”
“And your name, Lokison?”
“Given to me by my long-ago friend who is one of the few to ever know the truth of who I am.”
The three of us sat in silence for a moment, Orm munching on some of the berries and nuts while he and Lokison waited for me to process all the information given.
“So, where is my grandmother? How do I find her?” I asked quietly.
“A full day’s trip north of here, then when you hit the hills go west. I’m sending a... helper, someone to guide you. You will have to watch for the signs they give.”
“More cursed spirits?” Orm said as he rolled his eyes.
“Not cursed; as I said, a friend. You will want to head out soon; if you push yourself you should reach the edges of the hills by nightfall.”
I nodded and rose with Orm to be waved over and motioned to kneel in front of Lokison. He twisted the torque on an unseen hinge, so either arm twisted away from each other while it was horizontal, then Lokison put it around my neck and twisted it into place, with the opening resting by my collar bones in front of my neck. It was strangely warm against my skin and filled me with a sense of calm. This was the most relaxed and confident I felt about, well, everything since I saw the smoke rising from the village the previous afternoon.
“May Meili bless your travels and Odin’s wisdom guide you. Send your grandmother my love when you see her!” Lokison said in parting as he waved us goodbye.
“I thought the old man was an odd one before, now,” Orm shook his head, eyes wide and his chin was set in a stubborn jut as he processed what he learned.
“I feel there will be much more that will be discovered before all this is over. So much seems to have been hidden from us, from me. It’s time to find the truth and use it as a weapon against those who would threaten our home,” I answered with my shoulders back, head up, and my spirit filled with determination. Orm clapped me on the back and laughed.
“Now THAT’S something I can wrap my head around! Come, let’s see if our sea legs can jog across terrain like they used to old friend.”
As Lokison predicted, Orm and I reached the hills a little before sunset. This was still familiar territory for us, we had often hunted through the woods and fields that we crossed over the years. We stopped at a brook that flowed down from the hill in a gurgling rush; its water was cool, crisp, and refreshing after the hard day’s hike.
“This is as far as I’m going to go, are you going to try to push ahead until after twilight?” Orm asked as he prepared his camp on the east side of the brook.
“Yes, I want to get to Magnhild’s-the völva- I mean, my grandmother’s hut as soon as I can.” I let out a frustrated sigh. I’ve had an entire day to process, but I evidently needed more time to come to terms with all the new information I’d taken in during that time. “The longer I tarry the more danger Torhild and the other villagers are in. I know I need to go west, but I’m not sure exactly where-“
I was cut off by a young pine’s tree branch moving on the other bank at about shoulder height. Orm and I, both battle-hardened with tightly honed instincts, immediately dropped into fighting crouches with our axes raised. We stayed frozen in spot for ten slow breaths but saw no sign of anyone near the young tree. The
trunk was only about as thick around as my forearm at its widest, and there were only other young pines sparsely spread for a ten-step radius around it. Something clicked in my mind then.
“Are... are you the friend that Lokison said would guide me to my grandmother?” my voice quavered slightly as I asked. “If you are, move the branch again please.”
Orm shot me a withering look, silently asking me if I was actually being polite to some crazy cursed spirit.
The branched moved again, a force pulled it down and released it to allow it to wave. No wind, no person around it, but a definite, unnatural, and purposeful motion of the branch. Ice slid down my spine as my entire body broke out in goosebumps and my face drained of all color. A quick glance to Orm showed that his normally stoic and calm personality had cracked too. Good, I thought, it wasn’t just me that was half terrified by what I witnessed.
Except I was the only one out of either of us who had to follow that deeper into the wooded hills.
“Looks like your, ah, guide is here my friend. Safe travels, I hope to see you again soon,” said Orm between deep, calming breaths to steady his nerves. His eyes met mine again and he gave a sharp nod and relaxed his aggressive fighting stance.
“Is it too late to ask Gefion’s favor? I think I’m going to need her blessing.” Orm let out a quick bark of laughter and shook his head smiling.
A few quick strides and a leap was enough to clear the brook as I went in the direction indicated by my unseen guide. Every so often a branch would move or a twig would snap to adjust my course, and though the increments of signals increased as the density of the woods did, my unseen guide and I kept a good pace. From what I could feel of the sun, we were headed west by northwest, skimming along the foothills of the low mountain range in the distance.
I started to look for a good spot to stop for the evening, about when twilight ended and the moon rose from the east, when a wave of fear, revulsion, and panic washed over me. If I hadn’t stopped only a short time before to do so, I would have emptied the contents of my bladder right then and there. I broke out in a cold sweat and it was all I could do to keep control over myself and to not go running through the woods blindly. Viking for years trained me to be the master of my fear, but I had never felt a gut-wrenching terror like this.
Ahead of me, a single birch branch bobbed on its own accord. My guide wants me to continue?! How can I possibly do so?!
Lokison said it was a friend. From how he talked about her, I believed he loved my grandmother like I loved Torhild. All Lokison had ever wanted was to be part of, and accepted by, a community. Lokison had always contributed to Darlthveit, gone out of his way to help others, and though he was a bit strange he had always given good counsel, shelter, or a meal to any who needed it.
I took a deep breath to steady myself. Then another. Then a third as I forced the breath deep into my lungs, into my belly, and held it before slowly letting it out.
One step. Another. One more. Each step brought a new wave of anxiety; each step, I stopped and talked sense into myself. Each step I breathed. I didn’t know for how long this continued; just as my willpower was about to shatter, I took one last step and was greeted by a palatable wave of blissful relief. My entire body was shaking like a leaf that was barely attached to its tree; the convulsions and sweat made me feel like a dripping puppet, unable to control my body.
I made myself take a few more deep breaths and splashed water on my face from my waterskin to refresh me and wash away the remnants of fear. I have to be close, something like that wall of fear could only belong to a völva. No sense in stopping now if I’m just about at her doorstep. I nodded to my guide, in the direction I saw branches move last, to let it know that I was ready to go, and it obliged by moving to another branch. I silently raised a prayer to Odin, asking that the trial of fear be the only barrier I must face tonight.
A soft glow oozed between the trees ahead, gently lighting the outline of a small wooden hut that was built into a small sheared off hill. There was a thin trail of smoke that meandered up from the roof hole from the fire inside, but there were no other signs of someone being home. I debated for a moment, then decided to not slink along quietly. If I was at home visiting someone I wouldn’t have padded my steps, so why would I have done so here?
Five strides brought me to the ancient and rough door that was pitted and gray with age, but solid and sturdy looking. Just as I was about to knock, I heard the creak of a bowstring behind me. I opened my fist and raised my other hand slowly, deliberately, until both were well away from my axes and above my head.
“Why do you disturb the völva of these woods? Don’t you know that’s how you get demons sent after you and yours? Turn around slowly, I want to see the face of the stupidest man I’ve had the displeasure of meeting in over a decade!” The voice, while I could tell was aged, was as smooth and rich, as good mead. I obeyed her command and turned very slowly so I didn’t spook her into doing something rash, and finally got to see my grandmother.
She is definitely my grandmother, or at least someone who is closely related. We both shared a rounded face rather than the long oval that was common to others; we both shared shorter, rounder noses, thicker eyebrows, full lips, and broad cheekbones, though her face showed the evidence of the elements and time. Her hair was a mixture of shocking white against inky black that fell in long waves behind her and her skin was a delicate golden hue, almost that of the torque. She was shorter, softer, and curvier than any woman I had ever met, but I had no doubt that she was in as good of shape as any woman her age in the village, if not better. She looked wide-eyed and wild with me sighted down her arrow. I had no doubts that she could place that arrowhead into my eye if she so cared to.
“I mean you no harm, I swear by Forseti’s justice and Odin’s wisdom. I have something of yours that I brought with me,” I gently lowered my hands and gripped, in each hand, one of the arms of the torque and twisted the arms away from each other to open it. I slowly slipped it over my head, returned it to its original configuration, and displayed it before me.
“Why do you have that?” a muscle in her jaw twitched.
“Lokison gave it to me to help convince you that I mean you no harm and so you would at least hear me out. He also sends his love.” I kept my voice quiet, soft, and even.
“He is not harmed then? In good health?” Anxiety crept into her voice, making her high tone almost shrill.
“I swear that this morning when I left him he was as hale and healthy as any could expect of a wrinkled snarky old man. I swear that is the truth upon the lives of my wife and my unborn child,” I answered with a half-smile. “If you would like confirmation, ask the guide he sent me. As a völva you should be able to, correct?”
“Those Who Are Unseen, Show Yourself To Me,” her voice had changed, deepened, and I felt as if I stood knee-deep in the surf and a wave washed over me, except I only felt the wave inside. Then I felt a sharp tug, as if the undertow caught me in its grip and pulled on my insides. There was no physical pressure, I never lost my footing, but there was something. What was I feeling?
“Mama? You showed him the way here?!” Wide-eyed astonishment washed over my grandmother’s face like her power had washed through me. She immediately lowered her bow, relaxed the string, and looked off to her right as if she was intently listening to someone.
“Alright,” she said finally, and looked me in the eye. “I’ll listen but you have to convince me quickly that you’re worthy of my time.”
“I’m your grandson Brandur, my mother was your infant daughter Sassa. Darlthveit has been under attack for days by enemies that we can’t see, who evidently stays away from me, and has driven the village to the point of madness. Four huts have been burned down, we are missing numerous people, and those who haven’t gone missing are on their last frail tie to sanity. We need help, please I beg you, in the name of my wife Jarl Torhild and on behalf of all of the villagers of Darlthveit.”
The silence stre
tched out between us as she processed what I said. After a few moments she put the arrow away and used the bow to motion to the hut.
“Inside.”
With half a turn I reached for the door handle while I kept sight of her out of the corner of my eye. The sight of the interior caused me to stumble. It was laid out exactly like Lokison’s house, the only difference being the extra door to the back of the house that faced into the hill.
Magnhild pushed past me to rest her bow and quiver in the corner with the sword, daggers, and mace that hung from their pegs.
“Sit.” She pointed to one of the two chairs at the table to the right of the door. Lokison’s table had two chairs too.
“We keep our homes arranged the same, makes it more comfortable to visit the other,” she said. I flinched and stared wide-eyed at her.
“You... you can see my thoughts as well as my guide? Is she-was she-your mother, my great grandmother?”
Her laugh was musical, comparable to the tinkling of bells, and her smile took off my lifetime’s worth of years from her. No wonder Lokison was in love with her, if she was this beautiful in her advanced years, what sort of enchantments did she cast in her prime?
“No, I don’t have that gift and I’m thankful for it. That gift comes with its own trials and burdens that I do not wish to possess; the advantages it would give are by far outweighed,” she said calmly as she put a kettle over the fire to heat. “I will not return to the village; any help I give will be through you. Though we do not have enough time to properly ascertain your own abilities. We will have to make do with what I can teach in a few hours and what tools I can spare.
“Now, tell me everything.”
Magic Underground: The Complete Collection (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 4) Page 50