“Ah, before I forget, here are some eggs, butter, and other food from the farm for your pantry,” said Farling. “And I will need to stable my horse.”
“Right around here,” said Grum as they found a place for Farling’s horse. Farling quickly unbridled the horse, rubbed it down, and gave it feed to eat.
“Now, let us show you the forge and the upstairs. I think we have an extra blanket we can throw on the floor,” said Grum.
Arastead punched Grum in the shoulder. “Grum jokes, we have an extra feather mattress. It is not very thick but it is better than sleeping on the floor.”
“I had some of my best sleeps on Bringon’s floor,” said Farling. “I think sometimes if the mattress is too soft, it can make the body soft as well.”
“Or make the mind soft,” said Grum.
“Just yours,” said Arastead causing Grum to chuckle.
Upstairs, Farling whistled. Then: “Nice living quarters, looks very grand.”
Arastead nodded appreciatively: “It is not much but it is clean and warm.”
A cat appeared and rubbed against Farling’s legs. Farling bent down and scratched behind the cat’s ears. The cat purred loudly.
“To keep away the mice,” said Grum. “Her name is Peg.”
“I named her Peg, which is short for Margret after the Aarlund princess,” said Arastead. “Peg’s red markings in her fur and her green eyes reminded me of the princess, that’s all.”
“A fine name for a beautiful cat,” said Farling. “And I can see why Arastead would be thinking of the princess. She is quite beautiful.”
“And unattainable,” added Grum.
“I know,” sighed Arastead. “So, Farling, how long are you in Trondheim?”
“Well, that is the thing. I do not know when I will be returning to Jordheim.”
Grum looked surprised, said: “Interesting, what happened in Jordheim? What is her name? How big is her father?”
“Nothing like that Grum,” grinned Farling as he then told them how excited his mother and brother were at his return. At first, they had not recognized him on his fine horse. And then, they could not believe the coin he showed them in the saddlebags. Within days, he had been able to purchase an old, unused farm. Its barn needed work, as did many of the smaller animal barns, but it was the right price. Mantock had helped fix up the house on the new farm as well. Soon, everything was repaired, and the animals Farling had purchased were happy in their new stables.
Farling shrugged, said: “And then I got bored. It was too quiet up there, except for all the noises the pigs and chickens make. It is the geese that make the loudest noise. But working on the farm, helping out Mantock in his forge, I found myself rethinking about the adventures I had had in Trondheim, and how exciting it had been. I am too young to live like some old broken-down man. So, I told my mother, explained how I could not stay. She understood. So Mantock helps around the farm, my mother takes care of him. And my younger brother, Brodden, is now helping out Mantock in his forge. So, Mantock does not really need me either and Brodden is fine.”
Farling furrowed his brow. Then: “You had better not have had any adventures while I was gone.”
“No, it has been as quiet as a mouse here in Trondheim,” said Arastead. “You have not missed a thing.”
As they ate, Arastead and Grum told Farling how they had fixed the old forge, how busy they were, and how King Frederick had made good on his gifts.
“What of Bringon?” asked Farling.
“Bringon and Clara are well,” said Arastead. “Bringon paid back Grum on his money once the Knights Stable paid him. Clara keeps Bringon on a short leash so that he does not have any more financial problems again and lose his forge. King Frederick ensures Bringon’s forge is busy, so that too keeps him out of trouble. Often Bringon is too busy and sends us some of his work.”
“I will have to visit Bringon and Clara while I am here,” said Farling.
“They would like that I am sure,” agreed Arastead.
“Have you seen Einar?” asked Farling.
“We have visited the thieves guild,” said Grum, “as we still have the amulets.”
“I do as well.”
“We only go at night, as we are too busy during the day. But we have only gone a few times since you left.”
“Grum has taken some of the initiate’s training courses with Jorum, the training master,” said Arastead. “He is still sore.”
“You would be too,” muttered Grum.
“And what of you and the thieves guild?” asked Farling of Arastead.
“I have been helping Pressan in the library,” he answered. “Sihr helps too sometimes, as he is quite strong with letters and numbers. The Aarlund druid has been granted permission to train Sihr and Princess Margret in the thieves guild. I believe they all now have amulets. Nas explained that he wants to keep Sihr and Margret as much of a secret as possible. He worries about spies and other people who may be watching.”
Farling nodded, said: “What of Einar? Still as full of himself as always.”
“Even more so,” replied Arastead. “Ever since he collected a share of the profits from the Pitcairn thieves guild, he has been practically unbearable.”
Farling smirked, said: “And here I thought thieves were just about stealing. It almost sounds as if they have more rules than a king. What of Freya?”
“People have noticed the Master of the Hunt’s massive hounds,” said Arastead. “Nobody goes that deep into the forest, so no one goes near Freya at all. We have visited just once, but it was uneventful.”
“That is probably just as well,” said Farling.
“I did hear that Nas takes Sihr and Princess Margret to visit Freya,” said Grum. “Supposedly, they can all talk with her, but not for very long. If you ask me, they are all becoming a little more peculiar every day.”
“Just because Margret does not pay you any attention does not make her strange,” said Arastead.
“So, nothing else is happening?” asked Farling.
“Phillius drops by every once in a while,” said Arastead. “And I mean once in a while. His visits are extremely brief. He always seems to hold his breath the entire time he is in the Hive. I suppose he reports back to King Frederick as to our wellbeing.”
“I guess it is good to hear King Frederick is still interested in us all,” said Farling. He told them how Phillius had visited him in Jordheim once, but it was also very brief.
“So, what are you going to do in Trondheim?” asked Grum.
“I was hoping you needed an extra hand in the forge.”
“Well...,” started Grum. “I guess we could.”
And they all laughed.
***
King Frederick rubbed his head to stay awake.
The negotiations with the Salgarian ambassador had gone well but had run late. They had started after the sun had set and had gone on for hours. Phillius had explained that the Salgarian ambassador suffered from a rare sensitivity to the sun, which also explained his pale skin and light blue eyes. But it did not explain how, when he had shaken hands with the Salgarian ambassador, that it was like shaking hands with a corpse.
Still, the ambassador had been very courteous, gracious, and thoughtful. Now all that was left was the paperwork which Frederick could leave to his trusted staff. The delegation from Salgaria was to stay for several more weeks, during which time Frederick would be expected to entertain them on occasion. Mostly, it would be Phillius and other council members looking after the visitors.
Frederick walked to his chambers. He was pleased to see he recognized all the guards. As he walked by Queen Astrid's bedchamber he noticed she was awake as candles burned brightly. In attendance with her was her maid. As the king walked in, the queen dismissed her maid so that she and Frederick were alone.
He sat on the edge of her bed and intertwined his fingers with hers. Then: “Astrid, my sweet. What keeps you awake?”
She shook her head slightly, causin
g her long hair to cascade over her shoulders. She smiled coyly, but then her smile turned sad. “You know what today is?” she said.
The king grimaced, said: “I remember, my love. We lost our child today, many years ago.”
The queen tightened her fingers around his. Only a select few had known the queen was with child.
Frederick touched his forehead to Astrid’s. “One day, we will have another child, an heir,” he said. “One day soon.”
“I know we will.”
Afterwards, as the queen lay in her bed, she remembered what she and her maid had discussed; that the Salgarians were known for encouraging an heir. And, her maid had noticed in the entourage a Salgarian Healer, one who should know all the required healing arts. And, the Goddess Freya had returned, and wasn't she also a symbol of health and wisdom?
She would visit Goddess Freya and would offer her tribute as they did in the days of old. There had been many positive signs of late, signs that she was soon to be heavy with child. She prayed to Freya that the signs would come true as she fell asleep beside her snoring husband.
CHAPTER 28
Hidden Items of Magic
With Farling around, Grum and Arastead were able to get even more repaired around the forge and in the living quarters upstairs. They visited often with Bringon and his wife and also hosted them at their forge. Clara was impressed with the young boys’ ability to furnish a fine meal. Grum did not even mind working in the forge anymore as with Farling around it was enjoyable again and busy.
One morning, while they were cleaning the upstairs of the forge, Grum pulled too hard on a wall board and a section of the wall collapsed.
“Did not mean to do that,” he said, waving the dust from his face. “My apologies, everyone.”
Arastead coughed, waving the dust away from his face. Then: “Never trust Grum with a hammer, that is my motto.”
Farling coughed as well, said: “Then we had better not let him near a forge. Well, it should not take us too long to fix the wall. I repaired a lot of walls in the farmhouse up in Jordheim. Wait a minute, I think I see something.”
“What do you see?” asked Grum.
“A book,” said Farling as he reached into the wall and pulled a book out.
Arastead grunted, said: “Well, somebody did not want this found. What does it say on the outside?”
“I cannot read it,” said Farling. “It looks like that old language you read, Arastead. The same from the stained-glass window in the Paupers Temple.”
“Let me have a look. It says Princore on the outside, and nothing more.”
Grum glanced at the ceiling in thought, said: “That name does not ring a bell.”
“What book would ring a bell with you, Grum?” asked Arastead.
“A book on food, perhaps.”
“Yes, that would be about your level. Farling?”
“No, I have not heard of that name. Not in any stories in Jordheim. Who might know? Pressan?”
“I was thinking of asking Pressan,” said Arastead. “I was also thinking of Ogilhinn, one of the masters at the School. He was the quarterstaff master and the librarian. He is the one who is in charge of filling out the shelves with the new books from King Frederick.”
“I am sure the boys and girls at the School like having new books,” Farling said with a wry smile.
“Yes, it is both a blessing to some,” said Arastead, “and a curse to others,” he added looking at Grum.
“A book on curses, now that would be interesting,” said Grum. “A book on food curses would be really interesting.”
Farling shook his head at Grum’s sense of humor, chuckling. Then: “Nas might know something. We should show it to him as well. Hold on, I think I see something else in the wall.” He lit a candle and the three of them peered into the recesses of the wall.
“Hold the candle higher,” said Grum. He reached deep into the wall, grabbed a hold of something, twisted and turned and pulled it out.
“That was not easy,” said Grum as he was now covered in dust. He placed the package on the table. It was almost as wide as the table and long, wrapped in dirty oiled paper and thick string.
“I will open it up,” said Grum. He pulled out a small knife and cut the string. They gently unfolded the oiled paper. Inside was a kite-shaped shield.
Farling pulled out the shield. It was plain looking, made of metal. The leather straps looked in good shape.
“An odd-looking shield,” he remarked. “It does not appear to need any repair though. That is one big rune design on the front. I might want to show this to Nas as well. Something tells me he might know a thing or two about it. Pressan too as he is well versed in the old books. I will need to try this shield out some time.”
“Well, let us fix up the wall first,” said Grum. “Wait, I think I see something else in there. Looks like a hammer, a big hammer.”
He reached into the wall and tried to pull it out. “That’s not going to work. The hammer refuses to move.”
“Let me try,” said Farling but he too could not make it budge. “It is really stuck in there.”
“Told you,” said Grum.
“Remove more of the wall, Grum,” said Arastead. “Perhaps there is something holding it in place.”
After a few minutes of Grum pulling down more wall, the hammer inside the wall could plainly be seen.
Farling whistled, said: “That is no ordinary hammer. That is a war hammer. Mantock had an old one hanging on the wall of his smithy up in Jordheim.”
“And it is a big war hammer,” said Grum. “Almost a sledge hammer.”
“That would hurt a lot if you were hit by that,” agreed Farling.
“I think I see something,” said Arastead. He bent down to where the mallet part of the war hammer rested on the ground. He blew away the dust and rubbed the war hammer with his sleeve. “There,” he said pointing, “there’s an inscription.”
“What does it say?” asked Farling.
“It is written in the First Tongue. And if I understand it correctly, it says ‘Not with your hands will you wield this hammer.’”
“It is enchanted,” said Farling excited. “It is an item of magic.”
“Much like the hammer of the gods?” mused Grum.
“Different, I believe,” said Farling. “Odin’s hammer was short of shaft, with a loop at the end. This is not it but a different magical weapon, but it perhaps could be from those days of long ago.”
“Well, it is going to stay in our wall unless we figure the riddle out,” said Grum.
“Cover up the wall so at least any visitors will not wonder what a hole in our wall is doing there,” said Arastead. They found a suitable blanket that was decorative enough to hide the damage.
“Let’s be off to purchase some breakfast,” said Grum. “I am ravenous.”
“We already broke our fast this morning,” chided Arastead.
“My hunger has come back with a vengeance,” said Grum.
They found some coins and walked down the stairs. Peg, Arastead’s cat followed.
Farling asked: “Does your cat roam the Hive? Or does she think she is part dog?”
“Peg does what cats normally do,” said Arastead. “That is, she does whatever she wants.”
“A true cat,” agreed Farling, then stopped walking suddenly. “Hello, who is this?”
An old lady blocked their way. Hunched and small, her hood covered her face, gnarled hands clutched a walking stick. Peg ran away and hid in the forge.
Farling crossed his arms across his chest, said: “We have no food to give you, old mother. We will return soon and will be able to share then.”
She ignored Farling and just poked a finger at each of them. Then: “You are all in grave danger.”
Farling scoffed. “The only danger we are in is that Grum will begin eating his arm if we do not find him any bread or porridge soon,” he said.
The old lady spat on the ground. Then: “You jest at a time like thi
s.”
“We jest all the time,” said Grum.
The old lady glared at Grum, said: “This is no time for laughter, Grum.”
Grum looked surprised, whispered: “How did she know my name?”
The old lady continued: “The war hammer you just found.”
Now it was Farling who whispered: “How did you know? We just discovered it.”
The old lady shook her head, said: “As soon as you tore off the wall that hid those items of magic, I felt them. Those are all powerful weapons, especially the war hammer—but only if you can wield it.”
Arastead grunted, said: “You know we cannot lift it, old mother.”
“Fine,” she said, then lifted her face to stare defiantly at them. Creases lined her face like an old dried apple. “Then stop acting like children. Even the Norse gods could not wield that hammer without help.”
“What kind of help?” asked Grum.
She replied: “Could you read the inscription?”
“I could,” said Arastead.
“Good, at least one of you can read the First Tongue. That is a promising start. Now tell me what it said.”
Arastead repeated the inscription.
“Very good, your grasp of the old language is very good. There may be hope yet for you young heroes.”
Farling shook his head in disbelief. Then: “Young heroes? Old mother, what do you want of us?”
“Just some time of yours as there is not much time left. Tonight, I will show you. I will be out by the King’s Widow.”
All three boys’ faces paled. “Why do you call it that?” murmured Farling.
“What else should I call it? Freya’s temple?”
Farling rubbed his mouth, said: “Fine, we will be there. But how do we know we can trust you?”
The old lady just cackled. Then: “I am probably one of the few you should trust as I hold all the strings. You will need to bring some things.”
“What things?” they all asked.
“The Aarlund druid will know. Ask him.”
And then she was gone.
Farling blinked, wondering if he had dreamed her.
“I guess we know what we are doing tonight,” said Grum. “But first we should find Nas.”
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