“Why is everyone stealing my things?” asked Farling. “My father’s sword, now this necklace of Freya’s.”
Arastead rubbed his chin, said: “You know, there is one thing Sihr just said that got me thinking. How does he know the statue of Freya is missing her necklace?”
Grum and Farling pondered the question, then Farling snapped his fingers, said: “Of course, he has been there.” Realization dawned on his face. “He has not been told where she is, he knows where she is. His story of finding a hidden tunnel that led to a statue. He did not tell us before, but it leads to a statue of Freya. Nicely done, Arastead.”
“A pleasure. Now, do you think Einar really knows where Freya’s statue is?”
Grum shrugged, said: “He might be bluffing. It is hard to tell with him as he is a good actor. And what is this about him being Orlough’s brother?”
“He is a thief,” said Farling. “He will say anything to get what he wants. I do not know what else he wants from us, but he is running out of things to steal.”
Grum looked worried, said: “He better not have stolen our merchants guild reward.”
Arastead shook his head, said: “He did not mention that he had stolen it, and somehow he feels the necklace belongs to him. So, no, I do not think he did.”
“I would like to go check it now,” said Grum.
“No, Grum,” said Farling, “we will have to check it after the funeral.”
Then, they noticed people were starting to leave. They walked quickly and caught up to the group as everyone departed for the Paupers Cemetery.
***
It was late afternoon as the funeral procession made its way out one of the castle’s gates towards the huge cemetery outside of town. Just ahead was the group led by Sihr and Einar.
A team of donkeys effortlessly pulled a flat cart of wrapped dead bodies, tied down tight to ensure safe passage. Accompanying the cart were several men carrying shovels and other digging tools. The cart moved along slowly over the dry and rutted road making it easy for everyone to follow.
The boys walked a little slower, letting Bringon and his wife, Clara, to walk ahead, just out of earshot.
Grum hit his palm with a fist, said: “I still say we shine our knuckles on his face. Knocking some sense into that so-called thieves guild master might do him some good. I know it would do me some good.”
Arastead looked down at the ground, said: “My apologies for putting the jeweled necklace in such a poor hiding spot. I should have hidden it better, or I should have worn it.”
Farling shook his head, said: “No need to apologize, Arastead. Einar probably knew that hiding spot from years ago. I am sure that as soon as he knew we apprenticed under Bringon, he went straight for that hiding spot. And we never had any time to wear the necklace as a belt. Bringon was always around, or someone else. Besides, if one of us had worn it, I am sure someone would have noticed. It is quite bulky.”
“And shiny,” added Grum. “It did sparkle nicely.”
Arastead shook his head and grinned, said: “Ignore Grum, as he likes shiny things.”
Farling suddenly spat on the ground, said in a raised voice: “This Einar must take us for fools. He thinks he is some puppet master pulling our strings. We will show him that he is not a Norn, not able to determine our future. I will make my own Tapestry of my life, decorated with my adventures, as the Norns decree, not this self-declared prince of thieves. I will not bend a knee to him.”
“Then can we punch him?” asked Grum hopefully.
Farling laughed, his anger dissipating, said: “Yes Grum, then we will work him over and he will wish he had never met us.”
Grum shook his head, said: “I still cannot believe Meanog and his two friends are initiates in the thieves guild. Why did the guild not ask me to join?”
And Farling looked his friends in their eyes, said: “Because we are not thieves. I may have stolen salt from Bringon’s larder, but I replaced it. Besides, thieves do a lot worse than just steal salt.”
***
The cemetery appeared in the distance. The cart made its way under the entrance and rambled over to a large open grave. Once stopped, the Paupers Church men began dragging the dead bodies off the cart and unceremoniously dumping them in the ground like so many sacks of flour. Everyone made their way into the cemetery and stood around the burial pit.
Once all the bodies were in the ground, the men ringed the grave, removed their hats, and bowed their heads. Sihr opened a well-worn book and began reciting lines of text from it.
After a couple minutes, Sihr closed his book, drew some runes in the air above the grave, and bent his head. Obviously, that was the cue the workers were looking for as they started to shovel the dirt from the large pile beside the hole into the grave, quickly covering the bodies. The musty smell of earth wafted over everyone.
Arastead tilted his head, said: “Did you hear something? Sounds like a hunting dog that has caught a scent.”
Everyone else had heard it.
Farling noticed Sihr had gone as white as a sheet as he said in a voice thick with fear: “We must leave, now!”
Einar scanned the edge of the forest, said: “It is getting closer.” Uncharacteristic concern showed on his face. “I have never heard any dog sound like that. Quick, back up the road to Trondheim.”
And everyone moved as quickly as they could. Sihr grabbed the donkey’s leads and pulled them towards the city. The donkeys too had heard the howls and needed little encouragement.
Then, from the dark forest on the far side of the cemetery burst two huge hounds. They were followed by an immense warrior in green-plated armor wearing massive deer antlers on his helmet. The hounds had indeed caught the scent of what they were looking for, and the scent was stronger now, more than ever before.
Their howls ceased as they exerted everything into running down their prey. The warrior kept pace with his hounds, his legs effortlessly carrying him over the ground. They crossed the cemetery in what seemed like seconds and quickly caught up to everyone. The hounds flanked the group, ensuring no one escaped. The armored stranger cast his gaze over the group.
Farling could not take his eyes off the two largest hounds he had ever seen. Vast, almost as large as small horses, they padded slowly around the group, their eyes glowing an eerie luminescent green. Unable to contain their excitement, they sniffed the air and growled in anticipation. Their master too was the biggest person Farling had ever seen. Taller than the thieves guild master, he loomed over everyone. And the deer antlers on his helmet made him appear even bigger. Light green moss covered his entire armor, giving him the appearance of being both one with the land and a part of it. His armor also seemed to glow. A massive two-handed sword was strapped to his back.
The warrior said in a resonating voice: “I am the Master of the Hunt. I have been summoned to find Freya’s necklace. And my hounds have the scent of it.”
Bringon and Clara both fainted and fell to the ground.
Sihr pushed his way to the front of the group and held out before him the religious icon he wore about his neck.
“Back!” he cried, finding courage. “Back to the foul place that you and your dogs came from! Leave! And never cast your shadow here again!”
The Master of the Hunt’s head twitched, as if Sihr had given him pause. But instead of leaving, the Master of the Hunt simply watched his hounds sniff everyone. The hounds spent a little bit of time sniffing Farling, the most time sniffing Arastead, and a great deal of time sniffing Einar, but then whined in disappointment.
The Master of the Hunt shook his head, said: “I will not harm you, priest, nor will I hurt anyone in this party. As I said, I seek Freya’s necklace. It has many jewels, and was not crafted by human hands, but instead by the finest dwarf smiths of an ancient time and other place. Three of you have carried it, have touched it, this my hounds tell me. The black ship that brought the necklace has sailed away for home. And I know the only way to make the black ship leave wa
s to take the necklace from the undead that wore it.”
Sihr gulped audibly, still holding the icon in a shaking hand.
The Master of the Hunt tilted his head forward, said: “You have until the full moon to return it.”
Farling found his voice, asked: “Where are we to meet you?”
“At the remains of Freya’s temple.” Then the Master of the Hunt turned and strode towards the forest.
Farling yelled at the Master of the Hunt’s back: “What if we do not know where Freya’s temple is?”
The Master of the Hunt paused and turned around, said: “Enough of you have been to Freya’s temple. They can bring the necklace.”
His hounds whimpered slightly, their disappointment at not finishing the hunt showing in their every movement. The Master of the Hunt whistled sharply and his hounds ran after him, catching up quickly. They melted into the forest and were quickly lost from view, leaving no trace of ever having been there.
***
Sihr immediately comforted the donkeys whose eyes were so wide with fear that the whites around the pupils could easily be seen. He whispered soothing words and gently rubbed the donkeys’ necks.
Einar said with a wink: “Well, that was interesting.”
Farling immediately retorted: “Interesting? An odd choice of words, Einar. That was the Master of the Hunt. Did you see what he wore on his belt? No? That was his horn. When he blows it, the Hunt begins. And if the Hunt flies through Trondheim, it will strike fear and terror into everyone who sees it. Perhaps you people from Trondheim do not respect and fear the Master of the Hunt, but I grew up in Jordheim, and we paid tribute to him to keep him away.”
Arastead got in-between Einar and Farling, said: “Beating each other up, as fun as it would be, will not solve our problems. We need to come up with a plan. We have several days to think about it, before the moon is full.”
Einar and Farling glared at one another.
“Truce,” said Arastead. “We need each other in this. Einar, you have what we need, and you need us, as we have figured out many problems, ones that even you did not solve.”
Einar relaxed, sighed deeply, then said: “This is fast becoming more than I expected. And you speak true, Arastead. I need you three lads.”
Einar stuck out a hand.
Instead of immediately shaking hands, Farling ran his hand through his shock of black hair, said in a sharp voice: “You know, if we had the necklace, we could have given it to the Master of the Hunt right now.”
Arastead grimaced, said: “Farling, no pouring oil on the fire. Shake Einar’s hand.”
Farling said through gritted teeth: “Truce.” And shook Einar’s hand.
“Truce,” said Einar.
Arastead nodded and sighed at the same time, then said: “There, now we had better help Bringon and Clara. Does anyone have any water?”
“I do,” said Sihr, and gave Arastead a small skin of water. Arastead splashed a little water on the faces of Bringon and Clara, reviving them. The boys helped them to their feet.
Bringon shook the water from his face, said: “What was that all about? You are not hurt, are you wife?”
Clara, tougher than she looked thought Farling, said: “No, Bringon, I am fine.”
“No one’s been hurt?” asked Bringon.
Everyone shook their heads.
“Just scared,” said Sihr. “Let us take you back to your home.”
“I will need a strong drink after this,” said Bringon. “Maybe a few.”
“I think we all might need a few stiff drinks,” said Grum. “When I am older I mean,” added Grum quickly after Farling had chuckled.
***
Back in Trondheim, they dropped off the mules at the Paupers Temple where Sihr got Rickters to take care of the animals and stable them for the night.
Einar warned the grave diggers to never speak of what they had seen, and he swore them to secrecy. Then, they dropped Bringon and his wife off at their forge, where Einar then asked permission to take Farling, Grum, and Arastead out for some food at a local pub.
Bringon agreed, only asking that he not keep them up too late as the King’s Tournament events were to start on the morrow.
Once they were far from the Hive, Farling faced Einar, said: “Are we off then to get the necklace?”
“Even better,” said Einar. “You are to accompany me to the thieves guild.”
Sihr, Farling, Grum, and Arastead all looked at one another in amazement.
“We never agreed to that,” said Arastead. “What purpose would it serve?”
“There are things I need to show you that are only in my guild,” said Einar. “And there, you three will eat some of the finest food in all of Trondheim.”
Grum nodded a little too enthusiastically, said: “I am in.”
Einar winked, said: “I will have the kitchen whip something up.”
Farling and Arastead looked at each other, then they both nodded as Farling said: “Then it looks like we will accompany you to your thieves guild.”
***
It was dark outside as night had fallen. After a few more minutes, Einar led them down a quiet alley. After a bit, they found an old store that sold antiques. Einar unlocked the door and inside was old furniture, vases, armor, all covered in a fine layer of dust and cobwebs.
Grum sneezed then said: “What a strange store. I would not be surprised if it closed at any minute. How do they pay their taxes and levies to the king and merchants guild?”
Arastead elbowed him in the ribs, said: “Remember who we are with. I know you got distracted thinking about food, but how else would you hide an entrance to a place that should not exist?”
“Ah, of course,” said Grum. “I would have done something the same.”
Einar smiled, said: “Everyone thinks the thieves guild is down in the port, not up here with the stores. People have searched for the entrance over the years, but none have found it.”
Einar parted the curtains to the back room and everyone followed. A single candle was burning in the middle of the room on a small table.
“Now watch me,” said Einar, “as you will soon be doing this.”
“What is he talking about? Oh….” said Grum as Einar touched the blank wall with an amulet that hung about his neck. Instantly a door suddenly appeared.
“I will go first,” said Einar, “and calm the guards as they do not take kindly to strangers.”
Einar opened the door and entered the Trondheim thieves guild. Farling, Grum, Arastead, and Sihr followed.
Inside the entrance lobby were two guards with long daggers drawn. An old man was sitting on a tall stool in front of a high table at the back of the entrance room. He held a sharpened pencil and waited expectantly.
“Einar and guests beg permission to enter the Trondheim thieves guild, Master Horund.”
“Do you have anything to declare?” said Horund as he wrote down Einar’s name.
“Nothing to declare,” responded Einar.
“Names of guests?”
“Farling, Grum, Arastead, and Sihr.”
“Welcome to the Trondheim thieves guild. Please stay close to Einar, as we do not like guests who wander unaccompanied.”
“Follow me,” said Einar.
Grum asked: “Where are we off to?”
“The library. I need you to talk to my friend, Pressan. We need some help.”
***
They walked down some halls then came to a courtyard. They shielded their eyes with their hands as sunlight filled the courtyard.
Farling blinked as his eyes adjusted, asked: “What is going on?”
“Ah, yes,” said Einar. “The Trondheim thieves guild exists in another place and time. Here, right now, the sun shines, and it is warm. While back in Trondheim, it is night, and autumn’s winds blow. Sometimes it is raining here in the thieves guild but it is dry in Trondheim.”
Grum waved his hands in protest, said: “Wait, wait, wait. Wait a minute. What city
are we in?”
Einar said with a grin: “That is the other part of the Trondheim thieves guild that is a mystery. The sounds we make, the smoke from our kitchen, it draws no attention from Trondheim, and draws no attention from wherever the guild actually sits.”
Farling’s open mouth snapped shut, said: “What a perfect place for a thieves guild. Hidden, only accessible if you wear the charmed amulet, and undetectable from Trondheim.”
Arastead asked: “Einar, how long has this been the thieves guild?”
“As long as our recorded history,” he answered. “As old as Trondheim. Ah, here is the library.”
As they walked down the aisles of books, Arastead said: “This has more books than I have ever seen. The School does not have near the same number.”
Einar nodded, said: “And we have copies of all the books from the School. Over the years, thieves would take books from the School and bring them to this library. Thieves who were too old to perform thief duties would copy the contents of those books for our own library. We would then return the original book.”
Farling scoffed, said: “Speaking of returning the original, where is Freya’s necklace?”
“Safe,” said Einar. “I will ask one of the initiates to bring it.”
Grum rubbed his tummy, asked: “And you are going to get one of the initiates to get something to eat from the kitchen?”
“Of course, of course. Ah, here’s Pressan, still awake.”
Sitting at a big desk was an old man who wore half-moon reading glasses. He looked very frail and thin but when he spoke, his voice was strong: “Einar, good to see you. I see you have brought guests.”
“Pressan, I would like to introduce you to some new friends of mine,” and introduced each of the boys.
Pressan smiled, said: “I see things went well at the burial and that you have invited them to join this thieves guild. Including the priest of the Paupers Temple.”
Einar chuckled under his breath, said: “I unfortunately had not yet extended an invitation. Thank you for letting the cat out of the bag.”
“My pleasure. Letting cats out of bags is my specialty. You know I have to find ways to make my life interesting, otherwise it is just work, work, work, and no play.”
The Abomination of Asgard Page 12