“No pubs for you tonight, Grum,” said Arastead.
“Probably for the best. I think I need an adventure, work off a few pounds.” He patted his tummy.
“You are just big boned,” said Arastead.
“I know, that is what I keep telling everyone.”
“Where is Nas?” asked Farling.
“Probably teaching Sihr and Princess Margret new healing techniques,” answered Arastead.
“Yes, but where?”
“Either the Paupers Temple or the guild.”
“We will need to try them both. Let us get something to eat. All this talk has made me hungry.”
“About time you are hungry,” said Grum, “as I have moved onto famished.”
As they got ready to leave, Nas and Princess Margret appeared. The people in the Hive made way for the druid and the Aarlund princess as they walked towards the forge. Everyone in Aarlund easily recognized the druid and the princess and gave them every courtesy. Nas was easy to spot as he did not cover his tattooed bald head. He wore a brown plain robe with long sleeves that covered his hands. Margret was dressed as if ready to hunt. She wore buckskin leather pants and calf-high boots. Under an insulated buckskin vest, she wore a long-sleeve wool shirt. Around her neck was a scarf, tastefully worn. At one hip was a long sword, and across her back a bow and a quiver full of arrows. Her long red hair was tied back in a ponytail and upon her head sat the Circlet of Freya.
Farling, Grum, and Arastead went to one knee as they approached.
“Good morning, young blacksmiths,” said Margret, her voice a combination of authority and cheer.
“Good morning, princess,” they answered.
“You may rise. As I have told you before, you do not need to bend the knee before me every time we speak. Only at special events, when I am dressed in my royal clothes. You need only nod your head respectively.”
The boys nodded their heads and said: “Yes, Highness.”
“Margret, please.”
“Margret,” they said but it still felt inappropriate to say.
Nas interrupted the etiquette discussion, said: “Why is it whenever there is magic in the air, you three blacksmiths seem to be involved.”
“I do not know what you mean,” said Farling.
“We were in the middle of lessons this morning with Sihr at the Paupers Temple, when Margret felt the presence of items of magic. Using the circlet, she could feel that it was nearby, within the city. She guided us here. And surprise, we know the proprietors. A little too well I might add.”
“It is a good thing we know you Nas else I would be a little scared by your tone,” replied Farling with a chuckle. “Let us enjoy a quick meal and some tea upstairs. There are some things we need to show you, as you already know. And a person we need to talk to you about. Grum and I will purchase breakfast. Arastead, if you would be so kind as to show Nas and Margret the upstairs and start boiling some water for tea.”
Arastead nodded and brought his guests inside. People walking by were curious but paid little attention to the unusual guests. Grum and Farling made their way quickly to the nearest bakery and bought enough food for everyone.
Soon, everyone was upstairs seated at the table. Grum apologized for the mess, even though the kitchen and upstairs were quite clean. On the table were the book and the shield they had found in the wall, which Nas and Margret took turns inspecting.
They shared bread, enjoyed hot porridge, and strong dark tea. Nas even complimented them on the tea.
Once everyone had finished eating, Nas said: “Now, about what happened this morning.”
After Farling had described the events of the morning, Grum added: “She said you would know what to bring tonight, Nas. How would you know?”
Nas rubbed his chin in thought. Then: “She is some sort of powerful soothsayer. And it appears she is a real one, not a fake like some down in the harbor who tell the sailors what they want to hear. We will need to bring her tribute: a goat and some visionflower.”
“That vile stuff,” exclaimed Arastead. “I thought it was only for gutter rats and fake soothsayers who want to go into a pretend trance.”
“Most do,” replied Nas, “but in the hands of someone who knows the arcane arts of precognition, it should help her in her future sight, her visions of what is to come. Now, what else did you want to show me?”
Farling pulled out the shield and book and laid them on the table, said: “What interests me about the shield is its runes.
Nas and Margret took turns inspecting the shield.
“I think I may have some insight,” said Margret. “This shield was used long ago in the battles with the frost giants. This shield enables its bearer to withstand blows from a frost giant or someone of equal strength. It will absorb the impact and protect the wearer from the strike.”
“Powerful magical weapons,” said Grum, “if the frost giants were around,” he added sarcastically.
“There have been many unusual events of late,” said Nas. “I would not doubt that the forces we are against will try to raise the frost giants and turn them against us. The frost giants loathed weapons such as this shield.”
“Now, this book,” started Margret holding it in her hands, “is powerful magic. But we cannot open it to see what it says.”
“Perhaps Pressan might know,” said Arastead.
“And last, the war hammer that is stuck in the wall,” said Nas. Grum moved the blanket so that they could get a closer look.
“Also strong magic,” said Margret. “It glows most ominously. But it needs something, it needs help of some sort.”
“Inscribed on the mallet in the First Tongue are the words ‘Not with your hands will you wield this hammer’” said Arastead.
“A mystery we will need to solve,” said Nas. “Curious that these items of magic were in the wall, shielded from magic detection. There must have been a charm on the wall that was disrupted when you broke the wall.”
“If I could detect these items of magic, others might as well,” said Margret.
“Like the old woman,” said Farling.
“Exactly, just like the old woman. But I have also been feeling an evil presence in Trondheim the last several weeks. I have not been able to locate it. I do not believe the old woman was the source.”
“No, I do not believe she is evil,” agreed Farling. “But she was drawn to this forge after we uncovered the items of magic. Strange that this used to be Lanson’s forge.”
“Who was Lanson?” asked Nas.
“He was friends with the blacksmith I apprenticed with up in Jordheim. I was told to find work with Lanson, but he was gone when I arrived. No one knows what happened to Lanson, he just disappeared one day. Do you think he put these items of magic in the wall?”
“Do you think he was capable of making weapons of magic?” asked Arastead.
“I do not know,” said Farling shaking his head. “Mantock, the Jordheim blacksmith, did not know any magic. He was not able to bind runes of magic into any weapons.”
Nas gently tapped his lips with a fist, said: “I think I remember now why the name Princore is so familiar. If I remember correctly, he was a dwarf blacksmith, able to make items of magic. While he worked metal with his hammer, he would be able to infuse the metal with charms and spells. Very tricky and delicate magic, not easy. The art of making items of magic was lost long ago. Or so I thought.”
“Did he make any specific items of magic?” asked Farling.
Nas nodded, said: “Princore made the weapons that were used in the great battles against the frost giants. He was a dwarf, and the dwarves always battled the frost giants, a long-standing feud.”
Farling shrugged his shoulders, asked: “So why were these items hidden in the wall?”
Arastead interjected, said: “We do not know Lanson hid them, but most likely, he did.”
Farling nodded, said: “He must have known he was in trouble and did not want to travel with his items of magic. Too m
any creatures seem to be roaming the land that can detect magic and are drawn towards it.”
“Like me,” said Margret. “We will need to figure out the mystery of Lanson another time. I thank you for the food and the company. This discussion has been enlightening. Now, I am off to go hunting with some baron’s wives in the local forest as part of the fostering of good will between our two lands.”
Nas looked at the young blacksmiths, said: “You will need to get a young goat for tonight. I will get the visionflower.”
“Shall we meet here?” asked Grum.
“We shall meet at the Paupers Temple. We will take the tunnel to the King’s Widow.”
Farling, Grum, and Arastead saw them off. After Nas and Margret left, Peg appeared.
“Where have you been hiding?” asked Arastead rubbing the cat behind the ears. Peg purred appreciatively.
***
The Draugr woke at the sound of someone knocking on the door.
“Come in,” he said as he raised himself from his bed. His room was pitch black as he fumbled for his robe and pulled it tight about him.
The door opened and a man walked in holding a candle. He walked about the room lighting the other candles.
The Draugr said: “It still amuses me that I can withstand the light from candles and torches, but not the light from the sun.”
“Night has fallen,” said the man with the candle. He looked at the Draugr’s pale skin and light blue eyes. Because of the pale skin, his veins could be seen blue under the skin. He had first thought that the Draugr would be weak, based on the pale skin. But he had seen the Draugr practice fight with a quarterstaff and the demon was fast and strong. Even though his hair was white, it too seemed as if the color had simply been drained from it.
“Do you hunger?” asked the man.
“I hunger for food, like any other person.”
“I was told I might need to provide you with other nourishment.”
“Alchemist knows me well. No, I only drain a person of their essence when I feel it necessary. I am not a vampire. Those are true demons who cannot control their hunger.”
“Were you mortal once?”
“Never. I was forged by the dark elves long ago as a tool for their purposes. I can be very persuasive when I feel like it. Now to matters at hand; food, where is the meal to break my fast.”
The man rang a small bell. Then: “It will be here in minutes. Do you have any plans for tonight?”
“The usual. I will be dining with some barons up at the castle, fostering good will between Dennland and Salgaria.” He smiled ironically.
“I will have your finest clothes laid out on your bed.”
The food arrived and the Draugr dismissed everyone to eat in silence. While he ate, he mulled over something he had felt even while he had slept. There was a slight charge in the air, the charge of magic. Because he was a demon of magic, he was tuned to its peculiarities and presence. He could taste this new magic in his mouth; it made his food taste better. He would have to find these items of magic, maybe even tonight after he had drunk all the barons into blind stupors.
CHAPTER 29
The Norn Tells a Tale
Farling, Grum, and Arastead arrived at the Paupers Temple, a young goat trailing behind them on a tether. Farling wore his sword on his back with his newly found shield over top. Arastead brought the book they had found in the wall. They had tried some other ways to coax the war hammer from the wall, but they had all failed. Grum opened the large oak doors of the Paupers Temple and they walked in, the goat trailing behind.
Inside they found Nas and Margret in the kitchen drinking tea with Sihr and Rickters. Sihr greeted them warmly, while Rickters asked: “Would you like a cup of tea?”
They nodded and then sat around the table.
“That goat had better not make a mess,” warned Rickters as he poured the tea.
“Do not worry, it is house trained,” said Grum with a wink.
As they sat drinking the tea, Farling and his friends described their encounter with the old crone.
Sihr looked worried, said: “Strange she was drawn so quickly to the forge.”
“Because of the items of magic,” said Farling.
“But still, it would seem she had been waiting for them to be uncovered, that she knew of their existence.”
Grum nodded, said: “She knew our names and she knew what was inscribed on the war hammer.”
Sihr asked: “And you have never seen her before in Trondheim?” Everyone shook their heads. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“I do not think she is evil,” said Farling.
Sihr gently shook his head. Then: “No, not that, just that her appearance portends ill omens. A harbinger of evil even though she herself is not. She will be a wealth of information at tonight’s event, but we may not like what she tells us.”
“Speaking of the old crone,” said Nas, “I think we best be off and pay her a visit. By the time we reach the King’s Widow, it will be close enough to midnight, the Hour of the Witch.”
“Rickters, if you would be so good as to stay behind and look after the temple,” said Sihr.
“Of course,” he said, his voice full of gratitude.
***
They made their way to the basement of the Paupers Temple. Grum carried the young goat down the stairs as it could not easily do so on its own.
“Do not get too attached to that goat,” said Arastead. “I do not think it will see the light of tomorrow.”
“I was afraid of that,” said Grum, “but desperate times call for desperate measures.”
Sihr gave everyone a torch and they took turns lighting them from the ones already burning in the basement. He found the hidden latch that opened the door. A section of the wall moved silently over, its runners moving on well-oiled grooves. Sihr watched as first Farling, Arastead, and Grum—carrying the goat, entered the tunnel, followed by Nas and Margret. Sihr then walked in, his staff lightly tapping the ground as he walked. He found the latch that closed the door and pulled. The wall moved silently back into place with a gentle thud. The silence from the tunnel was almost deafening, just the sputtering of their torches echoed off the ancient walls.
They walked in silence, punctured only by the occasional bleating from the goat. Soon, they found themselves at the stairs leading up to the tunnel’s end, and marched quietly up. Sihr found the latch that opened the door, and they felt the cool breeze of night against their faces.
“Follow me,” said Sihr.
Before, the path could barely be seen, now it was looking to be well worn as Sihr, Nas, and Margret often walked this path when they would practice wielding magic in the presence of Goddess Freya.
As they approached, Farling “Wait, does anyone else see the eerie blue light?”
“Yes,” replied Arastead. “It appears to be coming from Freya’s temple grounds.”
As they approached the foundations of the old temple, they noticed something different. Thorn bushes surrounded the entire floor of the old temple creating a thick impassable wall. The wall was well over six feet and looked to be just as thick. No one would dare try to make their way through that as the thorns were numerous and razor sharp.
Just as they were wondering how to enter, a section in the wall parted making a laneway through to Freya’s temple.
They entered uneasily.
In the middle of the temple floor, the same old crone they had met earlier was bent over the oddly colored fire, her back to them. As they approached, she spoke: “I see my thorns have let you in.”
“Yes, old mother,” said Farling.
“Did you bring everything I requested?”
“Yes, old mother.”
“Good,” and she turned towards them. Everybody gasped. No longer was she an old crone but now a beautiful young woman: hair long and straight, face smooth, back strong, posture regal.
Everyone immediately fell to one knee.
“Who are you?” asked Farli
ng. “I recognize your voice as the old mother who visited us this morning in the Hive, but your appearance has changed.”
“Old ladies are able to move about Trondheim without being noticed. A young beautiful woman, however, draws many eyes. And people remember seeing the beautiful woman, but not the old crone.”
“But who are you?” asked Farling again.
“I am a herald of tidings, both fortuitous and not. I am a weaver of the Tapestry of life, a sewer of souls.”
“A Norn!” exclaimed Nas. “I thought I felt your presence but could not believe it. Are you Urd, Verdandi, or Skuld?”
“Hush, Nas, do not name me, else you may wake my sisters.” Then added ominously, “Or others.”
“But why help us?” he asked. “Why is one of the…” and he caught himself and said instead, “…Fates interfering in the Tapestry?”
The Norn nodded, said: “Because I have seen versions of what I must weave into the Tapestry and I disagree with one of them, if it is to come to be. If I am to affect the Tapestry, I must interfere in the lives of the people of the land. My sisters may disagree with me, but right now they sleep, but not for long. Now, kill the young goat and pour its blood on the eldritch fire.”
No one made a move, till Margret pulled out her knife. Then: “Boys,” she muttered under her breath, “as weak-kneed in Dennland as in Aarlund.”
As she held the knife to the goat’s throat, she whispered to the goat: “I am sorry for this, but we need to know what is going to happen, and you can make this happen.” The goat seemed to understand and went still as Margret gave it a quick death. Nas collected the blood and under the watchful eye of the Norn, he poured it slowly on the blue fire.
The Norn said: “Now, I will ask you to chew visionflower.”
Nas portioned out some to everyone. Then: “You may want to sit down as if you are not used to this, it will make you quite disoriented and dizzy.”
The smoke from the goat’s blood was thick. They breathed some in as they chewed the visionflower. The effects were quickly felt as everyone noticed a numbness in their tongues and a lightness in their heads. Only the Norn did not partake in the offerings but stared intently into the fire.
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