The Hammer of Thor

by Aiki Flinthart

  “Famous last words,” Jade muttered. She moved to station herself beside the front door, opening it a fraction so she could see the moonlit village outside.

  In the long hours that followed, she wondered how much more she could take. The strain of actually living this adventure was starting to wear her down. She really needed to get a grip. This game was challenging everything she once thought she actually might be good at. She’d always daydreamed about how perfect she’d be if she were thrown into this sort of fantasy land; always imagined being a brave warrior princess. Now, her deeper fears about not being able to cope in this game were being played out. She was making mistakes – lots of them. It was terrifying.

  Not surprisingly, this thought did nothing to improve her confidence.

  Jade spent the night with her hands clenched on her quarterstaff, eyes on the door; head awhirl with confused, worried thoughts and doubts.

  In spite of her fear, the night passed peacefully. Everyone, except her, slept soundly until sunrise. Jade let them all rest the night through. As a half-elf, she could go longer without sleep than humans. She was a little tired but she knew she could cope until the next night.

  At dawn, she roused them all and started the packing. The morning had brought a little composure to her thinking. At least she was able to plan for their next trip. That was something, anyway. The other doubts she pushed aside, not yet ready to deal with them. She had to focus on getting Truda home in time to stop Ragnarok. That was the most important thing now.

  Carefully, she stowed a small amount of gear into each backpack then shoved the bulk of their new clothes into the Hyllion bagia. For extra security, she asked Brynn to also remember the name of each item she stuffed into the magic bag. To get things back out of the bag, you had to give it the correct name: like “bear fur coat” or “leather pants”. There was no point in having a bag full of things nobody could get out. Who knew what was already in there. In his more treasure-hungry moments, Brynn tried random words. Generalities like ‘gold’ or ‘silver’ didn’t seem to work. His more specific, frustrated attempts had so far produced only a chair, a bolt of coarse cloth and five pairs of baby shoes. He often repeated his suggestion that they cut it open and see what came out.

  A servant brought breakfast of thick porridge laced with honey, which they ate quickly. A polite knock fell on the door. Ásúlfr’s aged voice called to them.

  “My friends, King Hrothgar and his lady await you without. They bring gifts and wish to give you a good fare well.”

  The five companions stepped out into brilliant spring sunshine, blinking. Arrayed before them were five sturdy horses: three for riding and two loaded with stuffed provisions bags. King Hrothgar himself came forward carrying two swords. The first, a long sword, he handed to Marcus with a warning to use it well. Marcus swung it, frowning at the difference between it and the shorter gladius he was used to.

  “It is made of the best steel by the best craftsmen in the world. You will not find a better sword, except perhaps this one.” Hrothgar handed the second over to Phoenix with a look of pride and regret. “It was given to me by Thor himself. I don’t really want to part with it but I am getting too old to do it justice. Now I have found a hero worthy of it.” The older man pushed the sword away as Phoenix automatically tried to return it. “No. You keep it but use it wisely. Its name is Blódbál. It means, ‘blood-fire’.”

  Hrothgar drew a breath and released it on a sigh. “There is power in this weapon for one who can use it with a clear head. However, if you use it in blind hatred or anger, that power will consume you and you will become a berserker.” The old king raised a warning finger. “You will not know friend from foe and you will not stop until all are dead around you. So be careful, my young hero. Of course, it doesn’t work on trolls or I would have used it years ago.”

  Phoenix stared at the weapon, clearly more than a little excited by the idea of wielding a magic sword. He drew it from its worn, leather scabbard. It was exquisite. There was nothing flashy or fancy: no jewels or goldwork in the hilt; just a plain, leather-wrapped grip and metal crosspiece below a long, broad blade. The blade did not have the high polish that Marcus’ new one did but it looked sharp and well-kept. He swung it experimentally.

  “Wow,” he murmured, catching Jade’s sceptical look. “It’s like I don’t even have to think; it just knows what I want to do next.” Bemusement flickered over his face and he looked away into the distance, as though he heard something no-one else could. Then his eyes refocused and he blinked at Hrothgar. “It’s singing to me. Is it supposed to do that?”

  Hrothgar roared a laugh and slapped Phoenix on the shoulder, making him stagger. “That means it likes you, boy. It’s getting the damned thing to stop singing that’s the challenge.”

  Phoenix turned to show the others. Brynn touched the flat of the blade hesitantly, as though expecting it to shock him. Jade inspected it in a different way, looking for any signs of magic. There it was. When she looked at it right, the whole sword positively glowed and pulsed with the telltale purple-blue aura that indicated a powerful magical tool.

  “Magic?” Phoenix murmured.

  She nodded, a little worried. “Quite strong, too. Be careful with that thing.”

  Phoenix resheathed Blódbál and strapped it onto his left hip. After a moment’s hesitation, he presented his own, shorter, sword to Brynn. The boy took it reverently and tied it to his hip. He walked with a definite swagger. Jade made a mental note to ask Phoenix to teach him how to use it before he accidentally cut his own leg off.

  Hrothgar presented still more gifts. Jade watched, feeling guilty and worried. She hoped he wouldn’t give her anything - she hadn’t done anything to earn gifts. Besides, if Grendel’s mother came, they would have accepted them under false pretences. To Marcus, he gave a quiver full of new, iron-tipped arrows. Phoenix received a small, round shield to replace his own, lost in Stonehenge. To Brynn, the king gave a whistle made of bronze. It’s pure, clear notes sounded out across the village as the boy piped his joy. Truda received a gown of blue to match Jade’s green one, a bracelet of bronze and a small, iron dagger. The girl was delighted and hugged the old king. His lined face softened into a smile and he patted the child’s head.

  When it came to Jade, he beckoned Ásúlfr forward. The old magician came stiffly up, holding a slender, leather-bound book in his hands. He stroked the cover reverently once then handed it to Jade. She accepted but protested that she didn’t need anything but the gift of languages he had already given them.

  “Lady,” Ásúlfr said with a smile. “You have made my long life complete just by your arrival in our village. You and your companions will be remembered in saga-songs for generations to come. This,” he tapped the book with his finger, “is a copy of my research: spells and enchantments that might help you in your travels.”

  Jade gasped, awed. “This is too much. I can’t take this.”

  He laughed softly. “It’s only a copy. I still have the original. Besides,” he patted her hand, “everyone’s magic is personal. My spells may not even work for you.”

  She gazed at the old man and suddenly missed her father terribly. He was the only other person who ever treated her as special and important. Ásúlfr had given her an incredibly valuable gift – trust. Trust that she would not misuse his spells for dark purposes; trust that she would keep his knowledge to herself; trust that she was a good person.

  In the depths of her heart, Jade vowed not to let him down.

  Following Truda’s example, she hugged the old magician. As she did so, her healer self sensed the aches and pains of arthritis in his joints. He was not really so old after all but the pain of the disease had aged him. Well, she could do something about that.

  Rummaging about in her backpack, Jade brought out her herb bag and extracted a couple of dried juniper leaves from it. She poured a few drops of water from her waterskin into the palm of her hand and crushed the leaves into a paste. Next, she drew Ás
úlfr aside from the throng of people seeing the companions off.

  “Will you let me help you once more?” She asked.

  The old man frowned at her. “How?”

  “You said you couldn’t do magic on yourself?”

  He shook his head.

  “Let me ease your pain,” Jade smiled at the flicker of hope in his eyes. He nodded hesitantly. She dabbed a little of the herb paste onto his forehead and hands then took his twisted fingers in her own and closed her eyes. A few, soft, Elven words spoken under her breath; a surge of power that tasted like copper and juniper in her mouth; the flicker of purple-blue energy behind her eyelids - and it was done. Smiling in satisfaction, Jade let go of the Lifebringer’s hands and stepped back.

  Ásúlfr stared at her. He straightened up slowly. A look of pure joy and amazement flowered on his wrinkled face. With an exultant laugh, he executed a funny little dance step on the spot. He gazed at her wonderingly then bowed.

  “I have no way to thank you. You have changed my life.”

  Jade blushed and shook her head. “I’m glad I could help but,” she drew him further aside. Glancing around to make sure nobody overheard, she decided to warn the old magician. “Please be careful.”

  “What of?” Ásúlfr flexed his fingers, admiring the way they moved.

  “I’m sure that Grendel was not alone,” she whispered.

  The old man’s eyes jumped to hers, his white brows snapping together in a frown. “What makes you say that? In all the years Grendel terrorised our people, he did so alone.”

  Jade bit her lip. How could she say she’d read it in a story? It would sound ridiculous. Finally, she decided she’d have to tell a small lie and hope he couldn’t read her very well. She’d always been able to fool her family.

  She reached up and tapped her temple with one finger. “My Elven senses warned me about Grendel and now I feel the presence of another. It is angry. I’m worried it may take revenge on Olshamarr for Grendel’s death. Please,” she laid a hand on Ásúlfr’s sleeve, “warn Hrothgar to be wary.”

  Ásúlfr stared at her in horror for a moment then shook himself and nodded.

  “Thank you for your warning. I shall pass it on to the king.” He opened his mouth then shut it with a regretful look. “I cannot ask you and your friends to stay when you have already done so much. You have your own quest to pursue. Now that we know a troll can be killed, we will be able to do it ourselves if we must. Go with our thanks, Jade. Be safe.” He held her shoulders and placed a light, whiskery kiss on her cheek. Jade hugged him again and moved back to the others with a heavier burden of guilt.

  It was her fault that Phoenix and Marcus had taken on the troll alone; her fault that Grendel’s death was now putting Ásúlfr and his people in danger. She just couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes!

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Jade’s strangled gasp of fear made Phoenix look sharply around. They were only a few minutes outside the village and he was already wondering where and when the next attack would come. Blodbal leapt to his hand before he thought about it. He twisted about, trying to find the source of her sudden exclamation of shock. There was nothing.

  As he looked a question at her, she leaned forward, clinging to the mane of her horse. The mare, startled by her rider’s fear, tossed her head nervously and trotted for a few jarring steps. Jade buried her face in the horse’s neck and held on.

  Phoenix reined his own mount in and leaned over to grab the back of her coat. Truda, who was sitting behind him with her arms wrapped around his waist, squeaked and grabbed tighter.

  “What on earth are you doing?” He demanded, hauling Jade upright. “Two minutes ago Marcus and I were just talking about what a good rider you are. What’s the deal?”

  Her knuckles were white on the reins. She stared around at him. “I….I…can ride?”

  “Duh,” he said sarcastically. “It’s what you’ve been doing perfectly well for the last fifteen minutes. Why did you suddenly decide you couldn’t….oh.” He realised, a little, late that Jade from the real world must not be able to ride but Jade gan Eleri obviously could. As long as thirteen year old Jade had let her avatar have control, she’d been fine. Once she’d actually thought about what was going on, she’d freaked.

  Phoenix sighed. When this whole weird adventure began, Jade had been a very reluctant heroine but heroine she undoubtedly was. After her initial doubts, she’d coped beautifully with magic, Romans, dryads and druids. Now she was falling apart and Phoenix had no idea why. It might have something to do with how badly she’d been overwhelmed by the presence of the troll – and how stupid she’d been to eat the lily leaves. It had shaken her confidence and now she was second-guessing herself.

  He did know that if she didn’t get herself together pretty fast, they were stuffed. In this land of magic and gods, they needed someone like her – someone who understood the supernatural and who’d read a lot of stupid fantasy adventure novels. He knew computer games and fighting; she knew the books they were based on.

  “Jade,” he tried for patience but managed slight sarcasm. “Get a grip would you? You might not think you can ride but you can,” he frowned at her, trying to get the message across without prompting awkward questions from Truda. “Relax. You’ll be fine.” He kneed his horse and hers followed his.

  She sent him a quick, worried look before closing her eyes. Phoenix watched as she took a long, deep breath and released it. Her whole body relaxed and she sat back in the saddle like a seasoned rider. He nodded in satisfaction.

  “Didn’t you tell me your uncle owned a farm,” he commented, finally assured she wasn’t going to fall off.

  “A dairy farm,” she replied tartly. “I can ride a motor bike without a problem, thanks.”

  Phoenix grinned, “Well, just think of the horse as an old-fashioned kind of motor bike – a bit bumpier and more temperamental, that’s all.”

  “Helpful,” Jade shot back but she smiled a little.

  The three were silent awhile, watching Marcus who rode ahead with Brynn clinging on for dear life behind. Marcus rode as if he was born in the saddle – which was not surprising, considering how many years he had followed his father around the Roman Empire. Brynn, however, rode badly. The boy’s thin legs stuck out stiffly over the stallion’s round belly and he winced at every bump and jolt. The pockets of his new clothing bulged and Phoenix briefly wondered how he could diplomatically ask the boy what he’d stolen from the village. After a moment’s thought, he decided not to ask at all. He was better off not knowing.

  From the corner of his eye, Phoenix watched as Jade slipped back into deep thought and chewed her lower lip. Something was really bugging her. Eventually, she sent him a troubled look.

  “Do you think we did the right thing, leaving them like that?”

  Mindful of Truda’s curious ears right behind, he shrugged. “Who knows. From a..er…Player’s point of view, yes. We did what we were obviously supposed to do there and we have to keep moving. Anything more would have been just bonus points. Remember where we are?”

  She sighed. “I just don’t feel good about it. I know it wouldn’t have got us any closer to Asgard but it seems wrong to leave them and not know if they’ll be ok. It doesn’t feel like the right thing to do.”

  Phoenix frowned, hearing an echo of his father’s words. He shifted uneasily in the saddle. If he’d just been playing this game on the outside, he definitely would have stayed. On the outside, these decisions were easy: you fought the badguys, collected points, treasure and weapons along the way and eventually either got killed or you killed the big badguy to win the game. In fact, he probably would have gone looking for Grendel’s mother, just for the bonus points and possible treasure.

  Being in the game, though, added an extra layer to every decision. It wasn’t just his life on the line and, as much fun as all these adventures were, it was always in the back of his mind that Jade didn’t really want to be here. Marcus and Brynn were part
of the team, too and he had finally come to realise that he couldn’t justify putting them in danger just to chase some extra Experience Points or treasure they didn’t need. No, they were better off on the move than waiting to get tromped by another troll for absolutely no gain. His job was to get Truda back home and prevent Ragnarok.

  “I know what you mean,” he finally said, “but we don’t even know for sure if this matches up with Beowulf. Keep in mind the…quest we’re on. We can’t get sidetracked. Who knows, maybe it’s just a co-incidence. Maybe the…” he hesitated, glancing at Truda’s wide blue eyes over his shoulder, “powers that control this world just like the same sort of stories you do. Maybe it’s no big deal to them,” he said. “You know how easily amused those geeks are.” That was a word that shouldn’t translate, he thought.

  Jade stared at him for a second then nodded with obvious reluctance. “I suppose.”

  After a few minutes, she shook herself and made an effort to be her old self again. Phoenix breathed a soft sigh of relief. She wasn’t quite back to normal but at least she wasn’t sunk in depression. He just hoped to goodness nothing bad happened to Olshamarr. If it did, she’d be sure to blame herself and he’d never hear the end of it.

  They didn’t discuss it any further and the day passed without incident. Hrothgar’s directions had them travelling northeast. They aimed to be at Orebro a large town about fifty kilometres away, on the shore of a lake called Hjalmaren. However, because of their late start, the shortness of the northern spring days and the slow pace of the pack horses, they had not yet reached their goal when night swept in.

  As dusk turned everything softly grey, the companions slipped stiffly down from their mounts and lead them off the narrow road. To the east was yet another of the many small lakes and ponds that dotted this area. Nearby, they found a small thicket of saplings growing in a rough circle. It seemed like a good place to set up camp.