The Abomination of Asgard

by James Malcolm Elrick

  Grum muttered: “I do not know why I would ever become a thief.”

  Einar leveled his gaze on Grum, said: “Young blacksmith,” he started, “before you cast judgment on my thieves guild, know that the king’s father and the king’s grandfather and his great-grandfather, and all his fathers’ fathers have at one time or another sought counsel from this guild. Oh yes, do not look so surprised. Thieves have many skills that few possess. Our training is legendary; few make it up the ranks. There are occasions where all diplomatic efforts have failed but that the thief may make right.”

  Einar paused for dramatic effect, hoping his words had worked their charm, then asked: “Pressan, who is on steward duty?”

  “Stepon,” answered Pressan. “Shall I ring for him?”

  Einar nodded and Pressan rang a small bell at his desk. A boy who looked about 14 summers old appeared.

  “Stepon,” said Einar, “go to the kitchen, have cook scare up enough food for the six of us.”

  Grum smiled as Stepon ran for the kitchen.

  Pressan cleared his throat. “So, if you have not invited these lads to join the thieves guild, what brings them here?” he asked.

  Einar’s laugh sounded like a dog’s bark, said: “Orlough’s burial was not as boring as some would have liked.”

  “Go on.”

  “It was attended to by these boys, and Bringon and his wife, Clara, Sihr, the Paupers Temple priest, and some diggers. Oh, and one more uninvited guest.”

  Grum interjected: “Three, if you ask me.”

  “Einar, my old friend, you could drag out any story that would put sheep to sleep. An uninvited guest, or three you say, please do tell.”

  Einar’s grin was wide, said: “Well, as you know, there has been an event that happened recently that smacked of magic.”

  “The black ship, un-crewed, that no one could board. And that weighed anchor and left Trondheim harbor after a certain three young lads boarded it and left with an item of interest.”

  Farling raised a finger, said: “One that we want back.”

  Einar nodded, the continued: “There was someone that happened at Orlough’s burial that also reeked of magic. Well, one person, two dogs.”

  Grum mumbled: “Biggest dogs I ever saw.”

  Pressan whistled, said: “Two of the biggest dogs Grum has ever seen, must be an impressive size. And their master. I give up, who attended Orlough’s burial uninvited?”

  “He even introduced himself, so it took all the guessing out if it,” said Einar. “The Master of the Hunt.”

  Shocked, Pressan took off his glasses and cleaned them to occupy himself while he gathered his thoughts.

  Einar continued: “And if that did not impress you, the necklace we are safely storing here on behalf of Farling and his friends, belongs to Freya.”

  Pressan exclaimed: “Goddess of wisdom!” He cleaned his glasses a little harder. “I feel as if someone just punched me. I find this all simply incredulous.”

  Einar then told Pressan everything that had happened and everything he knew about the necklace. Soon, Stepon brought the food, and everyone ate and discussed everything they knew about recent events. While they talked, Pressan peppered them with questions, his eyes going wide at times, amazed at the adventure aboard the black ship.

  The Pressan asked: “How do we know we are not supposed to wear Freya’s necklace? Often, gifts from the gods were meant to be worn by mortals to give them extra abilities when fighting enemies.”

  Farling shook his head, said: “No, Orlough told me to return the necklace to its rightful owner. And it is too large to be worn by a person. It makes sense that it is a necklace as it appears that the statue of Freya is larger than life.”

  Pressan asked: “But does anyone know where this statue is?”

  Sihr raised a hand. “I do,” as he explained how he knew.

  “Fascinating,” said Pressan once Sihr had finished. “A hidden and forgotten tunnel from the Paupers Temple all the way out beyond the Paupers Cemetery to the forest beyond.”

  Einar muttered: “I am a little surprised that Orlough never told me of that passageway.”

  “He had to keep some secrets,” said Pressan.

  Sihr interjected: “And, one more thing.” Farling noticed Sihr’s face began to turn white. “Those hounds of the Master of the Hunt haunt the ruins of Freya’s temple. I barely escaped with my life.”

  Pressan’s eyebrows raised, said: “The Master of the Hunt is interested in Freya’s necklace and the statue of Freya. But why?”

  Einar shrugged, said: “That, he did not explain, but he did give us an ultimatum that we must give him the necklace before the full moon.”

  “That is in less than three nights,” said Pressan. “And what if we do not?”

  Farling said: “His hounds can smell the necklace. They will find it. They may even be able to find it within this hidden complex, as the trail from Bringon’s forge would lead to your door.”

  Einar nodded, said: “That it would. I am afraid we will need to return the Necklace of Freya.”

  “Who is going to return it?” asked Farling. “Arastead, Grum, and I got it off the ship. You merely stole it from us. We should return it.”

  “Thanks for volunteering me,” said Grum between bites of food.

  “So where is the necklace?” asked Farling.

  Einar called for Stepon and told him where to find the necklace. Stepon returned in few minutes with a small strongbox. Einar pulled out his keychain, found the right key, and opened the box. He pulled out Freya’s Necklace.

  Grum did a low whistle, said: “It is more beautiful than I remember.”

  “This had better not be some copy,” said Farling.

  “Spoken like a true thief,” said Einar. “No, no copy like those books we would make from the School. Besides, I think the Master of the Hunt would know a copy when he saw one.”

  “So, when do we return it?” asked Farling. “Tonight?”

  “I would prefer that we wait until the final night, the night of the full moon,” said Einar. “I feel that is more auspicious.” He put the necklace back in the box.

  Arastead asked: “And who is going on that night?”

  “I think we should all go,” said Einar. “Except for Pressan as he does not travel well.”

  Pressan said with a wink at Einar: “Till then, the necklace should stay here in the guild. We cannot have someone else stealing it from Bringon’s forge.”

  “Fine,” said Farling. “But you will need to do me a favor.”

  Einar shook his head, said: “I do not bargain when there is no chance for profit.”

  Farling’s voice rose slightly as he said: “You never would have had the necklace if it was not for me, Grum, and Arastead.”

  Grum added: “And Sihr.”

  Farling nodded, said: “Point taken, and Sihr.”

  Einar lightly shook his head, said: “And it has not brought me any profit, and may in fact cost me.”

  Pressan coughed lightly. “Einar, listen to what Farling has to say,” he said.

  “All right my old friend. Farling, what would you ask of the master of the Trondheim thieves guild.” Einar’s voice took on a menacing tone. “And just know, no one has asked a favor of me for years.”

  “When I arrived at Trondheim, one of the king’s guards stole my father’s sword. I want you to steal back my sword. Unless of course he works for you.”

  “Describe him.”

  “His name is Ostend,” and Farling described him as best he could.

  Einar shook his head, said: “No, Ostend does not work for the thieves guild. What does this sword look like?”

  And Farling described his father’s sword in greater detail than how he had described the old guard.

  “Well, Einar?” said Pressan.

  Einar picked up on Pressan’s tone, said: “Fine, we will get you your father’s sword back.”

  “How soon?” asked Farling.

  “Soo
n enough,” said Einar grumpily.

  “Fine,” said Farling considering the matter closed. “About returning the necklace, the night of the full moon, we will all meet at the Paupers Temple an hour before midnight, and then leave for the ruins of Freya’s temple by the hidden passageway.”

  “Agreed,” said everyone.

  “Good,” said Grum. “It is off to sleep for me as I need my beauty rest.”

  “More than you know,” said Arastead with a grin. Grum pretended to look offended by Arastead’s comment.

  They said their good-nights to Pressan, thanked Einar for the food, and then had Einar led them to the entrance. There, he gave each of them an amulet that would allow them access to the thieves guild.

  Farling said: “You realize we are not joining the thieves guild.”

  “This I realize,” began Einar, “but I believe the Norns our intertwining the threads of our lives for a reason in the great Tapestry they weave with their looms. So, to bind you four closer to me, I grant you access to the thieves guild, without initiation. After a while, you may want to join, but I will leave that choice to you.”

  Horund scratched some notes beside each of their names, said: “As you do not belong to the thieves guild, you do not share in its profits. When you enter our guild, you do not need to declare anything as you will not have anything to share with the guild by way of profit. Instead, when you enter this guild, merely state your name and reason for visiting.”

  Everyone nodded in understanding as they placed the amulets about their necks and hid them under their garments. They said their good-byes to Einar, walked Sihr home safely, then went straight to Bringon’s forge and straight to sleep.

  CHAPTER 17

  The Circlet of Freya

  “How do you feel when you wear the circlet?”

  The Aarlund delegation had gathered in King Cormac’s resplendent chambers. King Frederick and Queen Astrid had worked hard to ensure that Cormac would enjoy his stay in Dennland. King’s Secretary Phillius had personally overseen the decoration of the room, had ensured the bed had been stuffed with only new feathers, and that the blankets were soft and warm. The same attention to detail had also been performed in Princess Margret’s room, which adjoined her father’s. Margret shared her quarters with her serving maid, Ingrid, an old lady who had also looked after Margret’s mother.

  In the room, sitting in chairs, standing by the roaring fire in the fireplace, or eating food were the four Aarlund brothers: Cruithni, Tuathail, Eithlenn, and Airthear. Each one of them had had their hair brushed neat and tied into two long braids. Wearing their finest, the four of them were a handsome bunch of red-haired giants. Conall, their nephew and steward, made sure to refill their goblets of wine when they went low. As usual, Conall’s uncle Airthear, the melancholiest of the brothers, drank the heaviest as he used the wine to ease the pain of his headaches.

  Cormac paced the floor, watching druid Nas na Riogh talk with Margret about the circlet she wore. It was a beautiful and ornate piece of jewelry. The centerpiece of it was the large pearl that rested directly on his daughter’s brow, almost between her eyes. Margret sat in a chair near the fire.

  “I feel dizzy, Nas,” she answered, “not so dizzy as to fall down. But light-headed enough that it is best I am seated.”

  The light cast from the fire played weird tricks with the tattoos on the druid’s bald head and bare arms. The colors in his tattoos glowed and pulsed with the fire’s flames. “You will get used to the feeling, child,” he said. “Soon, you will not even notice you wear it. The Circlet of Freya is powerful magic.”

  Cruithni interjected: “Why are we here again? I mean in Dennland, not here in our king’s chambers.”

  His brother Tuathail answered: “We are here to beat the Dennland knights in all the competitions. And steal all their prizes.”

  Airthear nodded and said between gulps of wine: “That, and reclaim our gifts that were stolen from Aarlund.”

  But Cruithni did not seem convinced, asked: “Why do we need these gifts?” We have peace between Aarlund and Dennland, finally after all these years. These gifts will merely decorate our walls and sit upon shelves.”

  Nas shook his head, said: “Quite the opposite. Perhaps it is time I tell you more of what is going on in the land.” He looked towards his king who nodded in approval.

  “In my dreams,” began Nas, “I have seen a great host gathering, most dark, and most fierce. It builds at our borders, waiting for the gate to open so that it can be let loose across the land and flood us with death and destruction. This host does not bargain. This host does not desire peace. It only wants to grind us into dust and make decorations of our bones.”

  “What country is this?” asked Cruithni.

  “I saw no banners, no flags in my dreams. But I sensed a longing, a great deal of revenge, as if it is a people coming back.”

  “So why do we need these gifts?” asked Cruithni. “If this host is as powerful as you say, we should be at home sharpening our blades, practicing our formations, building our walls higher and thicker.”

  “No,” started Nas, “because this host has magic, and for us to battle magic, we need magic on our side. Gifts were given by the gods to their heroes thousands of years ago. Some of these magical items still exist. The gifts were used to destroy the enemies of the gods, when the gods themselves could not fight.”

  Eithlenn joined the conversation. “Nas, what is the Circlet of Freya?” he asked. “What magical powers does it possess?”

  “The Circlet of Freya has other names too: Dreamseer, Visionmaker. It is said the circlet gives the wearer the ability to see things that are not there, to see things that are going to happen, or might happen unless events change. And Goddess Freya is the Goddess of Wisdom, and with wisdom comes healing. A guild of clerics used to worship her and she rewarded them with strong healing abilities and knowledge. Princess Margret has always had a healing ability and has seen things that are going to happen. Her mother was the same. Wearing Dreamseer magnifies and enhances Margret’s natural abilities. She will need training however as she will need to learn how to properly interpret her dreams as they will become more powerful. And with healing, she will need to be careful as she might use it wrong and instead of healing, cause injury.”

  “And the Almuric Sword,” said Cormac. “Tell them of the sword.”

  “The Almuric Sword was taken by the Dennlanders centuries ago. They also took Dreamseer at the same time. As part of the negotiations between our two great countries, I made sure that these items of magic were returned to us, their rightful owners. These items merely gathered dust in some basement, part of some loot.”

  “The sword, Nas, you did not describe the sword,” said Cruithni.

  “Even if the Dennlanders had used the Almuric Sword, it would have been useless. To them, it would have only been a finely crafted long sword with an incredibly sharp edge. No, the Almuric Sword was built to destroy creatures of magic. It also protects its bearer against magic, like a shield, but only for so long.”

  “So, we are down here in Dennland gathering ancient items of magic so that we can fight some unseen and unknown host,” said Airthear. “Ah, my head.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

  Princess Margret stared at Airthear intently. “I see something in Airthear’s head. It is like a cobweb of fine lines,” she said.

  “It is the pearl in the circlet of Dreamseer,” said Nas. “It is becoming your third eye, your magical eye. Close your own eyes so that you can see better with your new one.”

  Margret closed her eyes and faced Airthear. He had stopped rubbing his temples and stared at Margret through bloodshot eyes. “I do not like this,” he mumbled.

  “May I touch your head,” she asked of Airthear. “I think I can help rid you of your pain.”

  “Your Grace, it is not my place to say no to a princess. But if I may, I thought Nas just said you need more practice.”

  “I have healed before, but
never with the circlet, tis true. But I am sure I can handle it. Do not worry Airthear, I would not try this if I did not think I could handle it.”

  “Then I place my head in your hands, literally, Your Grace.”

  Cruithni chuckled, said: “What a shame. Here I was hoping we would have to hold him down. Instead, he goes willingly.”

  Everyone watched in rapt attention. Airthear stayed seated in his chair by the fire, while Margret stood behind him. She placed her hands on top of his head.

  Airthear’s and Margret’s eyes closed, and their breathing was steady.

  “Have you started, Your Grace?” asked Airthear.

  “Quiet, please Airthear, I think I see what ails you.” She began to whisper under her breath, then went silent. Small beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

  Suddenly, she lifted her hands from Airthear’s head.

  “Well?” asked Cruithni, fascinated by this turn of events.

  “Well?” asked Margret of Airthear. “How do you feel?”

  Airthear opened his eyes and now, instead of his eyes being bloodshot, they were white and normal. “I think you may have cured me.”

  He stood and shook his head, trying to induce pain, but nothing came. “I think the pain has left me.” His eyes were wide, not believing. “I have had that pain for so long, I never thought it would leave me until I lay broken on the ground, dying. Thank you, my princess!”

  And he lifted Margret off the ground in a great hug. He then realized what he was doing and carefully put her back on the ground, putting his hands at his side.

  “Apologies, Your Grace, I was just so taken with the moment.” And he went to one knee before her. “Thank you.”

  Margret bent and lightly kissed him on the top of his head. “There is nothing to forgive. I am so happy I was able to help.” Her smile was wide and bright.

  Cormac cleared his throat, said: “I think it is time you should call it a night. I have matters to discuss privately with Nas and my daughter.”

  After the four brothers and their nephew had left to sleep back at the pavilion, Nas said to Margret: “Tell me, how did it feel using the circlet?”