The Abomination of Asgard

by James Malcolm Elrick

  As one, they saw images dance in the blue fire of the eldritch flames. Mighty warriors with long white hair in black polished armor burned villages, destroyed crops and livestock, and laid waste to the land of Midgard.

  “Who are they?” asked Arastead.

  The Norn said: “A once proud people, the warriors of Odin, his foot soldiers, the Chosen.”

  Nas said: “I recognize them from my own visions in the fire, ones I shared with King Cormac.”

  The Norn nodded at Nas, then continued: “The Chosen have not walked the land for years. They were banished hundreds of years ago, for insults to the gods, especially to Odin, the All Father.”

  “Why do they burn and loot?” asked Farling.

  “That is what they know, that is what they were trained to do. They do it very well.”

  “Why were they banished?” asked Margret.

  The Norn loudly sighed, said: “The Chosen grew too mighty, they grew too strong, and their strength awed and frightened the Norse gods, especially Odin. The Chosen had been given many items and weapons of magic to do Odin’s biddings. They were the tip of the spear for Odin and were sent on many an adventure to bring back something he fancied, whether it was a tree that grew apples made of jewels, or the fishermen’s net that only caught gold, or the feathered cloak that would allow its wearer to fly like a bird for leagues upon leagues. They fought battles Odin would not, that he deemed were beneath him. The Chosen travelled to different realms, fought giants, serpents, dragons, and often other realms that they crushed under their boots and loot their treasuries for Odin’s fancy.”

  “But why were the Chosen banished?” repeated Margret.

  “Because it reached a point when the Chosen thought they were equals of Odin and that their fiercest general could marry a Norse goddess, thus bonding the Chosen with the Norse gods for time immortal. Odin should have seen this coming, he talked with my sisters and I often enough, but even the Mead of Knowledge would bring no wisdom to his decisions. Thus, it was that they were banished from the land of the gods, and were brought here, to this land, the land of mortals, Midgard. But here the Chosen unleashed their awesome strength upon the people of Midgard, who could only fight with what they had. It was the wizards, those favored by the Norse god Galdr, that finally banished them into final exile, behind the Unbreakable Barrier. But all the wizards perished in that last great battle, the battle that scorched the land and burnt the sky.”

  “But why do we see Odin’s foot soldiers attacking again?” asked Farling.

  “Because their strength has not diminished during their exile. They seek revenge on the people of Midgard, to have their revenge on Odin.”

  Suddenly, someone else was speaking, but it was not a voice anyone recognized. And it was emanating from behind the Norn. Farling looked around her and his voice caught in his throat.

  The dead goat was attempting to get to its feet. Its head lolled from side to side, its eyes blazed with black malevolence.

  Nas leapt to his feet but the Norn stopped him with a motion of her hand.

  Then the goat spoke as its body jerked spasmodically. But its words were garbled and strange as the goat’s mouth and tongue were not meant for human language, as it said: “You think I would not notice this much magic in one place. The feeble thorn bush cannot keep me out. Nothing can keep me out.”

  Blood trickled from the wound in the goat’s neck. Farling reached for his sword and noticed everyone else reached for their weapons.

  The goat continued talking, said: “This group of heroes the Norse gods are assembling to protect Midgard are as weak as they are foolish. A pathetic druid, an Aarlund princess, a young priest, and some boys. What a sweet and sorry joke you all are.”

  The goat then gazed at the Norn, said: “But who is this woman who has her back turned to me? Her I do not recognize. Turn and face me so I may gaze upon your face and know you.”

  But the Norn did not face the goat and instead simply made a cutting motion with her fingers like the action made by a pair of scissors. The goat slumped to the ground, its black once animated eyes turned dull and lifeless again.

  Nas picked up the goat and threw it in the middle of the fire. Everyone stood back from the fire and watched the carcass burn.

  “The enemy is more powerful than I thought,” said Nas.

  “And he knows who we are,” said Margret.

  Nas shook his head, said: “He always knew who we were. He has spies all over the land, all sending him messages, keeping him informed with either hints or real events. If we thought this was all just fun and games, he is playing by very different rules.”

  “Nas speaks truth,” said the Norn. “I must apologize for making the enemy aware of our presence.”

  “Still,” said Nas, “he may have not realized that he has drawn too much attention to himself. His actions taste of arrogance. We must use this to our advantage.”

  “But who owned that voice?” asked Arastead.

  “That, I may not tell you, Arastead,” spoke the Norn. “You must find out on your own. His timing was fortuitous in one way. He did not wait long enough to witness the gifts I am about to give. I do not have much time. Farling, step forth and show me your father’s sword.”

  Farling unsheathed his sword and laid it gently on the ground before the Norn’s feet.

  “The frost giants will return,” began the Norn causing everyone to look surprised. “You must be ready. An ancient sword, Flamebringer, bane of the frost giants, its powers feared by Thrymr, must be yours. Flamebringer is hidden far far away, so remote as to be rendered useless. But its powers can be transferred to another sword.”

  The Norn chanted in a low quiet voice. Farling’s sword glowed bright and before his eyes, ancient runes were carved in the sword. The runes on the sword then appeared to drink in the glow, then went dark.

  “It is done,” said the Norn. “Take up your sword, Farling. Before the frost giants, your sword will now be bathed in eldritch flames that only hurt frost giants. Beware, once they recognize this sword, they will send all their mightiest warriors against you to bring you down and steal Flamebringer. Your new shield will help. It too was part of the dwarf wars against the frost giants. Wearing that shield will give you near invulnerability. As long as a frost giant’s blow hits this shield, you will feel no pain.”

  “Many thanks, My Lady,” he said as he sheathed Flamebringer and rejoined the group.

  “Grum, come forward. Blacksmith, wielder of the hammer, I give to you only part of a gift, with a hint for more.” She handed him a belt. “The wearer of this belt will have the strength of 10 men, but you may only wear it for a short while. This belt is to be twinned with a pair of gloves. The person who wears the gloves will be able to wield the war hammer found in your forge. Wearing the belt with the gloves will give you the ability to break apart trees with that war hammer.”

  Arastead snapped his fingers, said: “Of course. “Not with your hands… the inscription was a hint that you needed gloves of enchantment to wield the war hammer.”

  “My Lady,” said Grum. “I thank you most graciously for the gift. If I may be so bold, where might I find the gloves that will allow me to hoist the war hammer upon my shoulder for battle?”

  “The gloves will show themselves when they are ready,” answered the Norn.

  “Arastead, come forth,” called the Norn. Arastead went to one knee before the Norn. “The spells of Princore are ancient and mighty. Many items of magic were created by the dwarf Princore for Odin, and for other Norse gods. You, as with your friends, can bend metal to your will. With the spells from Princore, you will be able to once again infuse magic into items to create powerful weapons. But beware, the stronger the magic, the greater the price.”

  Arastead graciously nodded, said: “I thank you mightily for this gift. I am, however, unable to open the book to read the words.”

  “There is one within Trondheim who can,” answered the Norn. “Seek out Jakobus, he will
be able to help you.”

  “Einar, prince of thieves, step forward.” He went to one knee before the Norn. “I have no gifts for you except knowledge. The ring you wear is of great significance. Together with your brother’s ring, they will open portals closed for many a long year. It is time you explored these portals.” Einar bowed and returned to the group.

  Then the Norn stood tall, her power radiated from her, said: “It is a time of great reckoning. In battles past, there were many great warriors. Today, you are the heroes of Midgard. I have done all that I may, I can do no more without raising suspicion from my sisters and from others. Odin’s warriors old will not give mercy to the people of Midgard. They will destroy and enslave. They must be stopped.”

  Nas said: “My Lady, where does our adventure lie?”

  “You must destroy the Heart Tree.” The Norn’s eyes suddenly flashed eldritch green as if she saw something far away in another realm. “I must go.” And at that, she disappeared.

  Everyone blinked. Around them the wall of thorns disappeared, and the moon cast a hazy light through the canopy of tree leaves.

  Grum held a hand to his stomach. “I do not think I will ever chew visionflower again. Vile stuff, I am so close to retching, I dare not eat for a while.”

  “That means a few minutes,” retorted Arastead with a chuckle. He threw an arm around Grum’s shoulders as everyone made their way back to the Paupers Temple tunnel. “Do not worry, my friend, you will be right as rain soon enough. We must first find your gloves so that you may wield the war hammer. As soon as we are back in your forge, I will fix you up something good to eat. Then tomorrow, I must meet Jakobus, to find out what he knows of Princore.”

  ***

  The Draugr had said his goodbyes early, much to the disappointment of his new friends. He begged their forgiveness and promised to make it up to them another night. As they shouted reasons at him to stay, he merely smiled politely and made his way out into the cool night.

  He sniffed the air, smelling the ancient magic that wafted through the night’s air. Pungent only to him, he followed the scent and found his way into the Hive.

  He had never walked in the Hive and enjoyed the smell of sweat and food that lingered in the air. At this time of night, it was quiet as everyone was trying to get as much sleep as possible before waking and working a full day. The Draugr knew that soon the bakers would be waking as the bread and cakes needed to be started early so that they would be ready for sale by morning.

  After a few short minutes, he found the place. It was an old forge, still well maintained. He used some shadows across the lane in which to hide and watched the forge for activity. No candles lit any rooms, no large amounts of smoke made their way up the chimney. The forge had been closed for the night, and the Draugr figured all the people who lived there slept.

  Only a cat stood in the forge’s doorway. He drew himself deeper into the shadows, but the cat continued to stare in his direction.

  A few guards patrolled the Hive and walked by but did not notice the Draugr. And other than those guards, it was quiet. Only the pubs and other places of ill repute would be loud, but those establishments were down near the Paupers Temple. Here, people lived and worked and needed their rest.

  The Draugr was about to enter the forge to see if he could find the item of magic when a person of a diminutive stature slowly and surely made his way across the lane and into the forge. Frowning, the Draugr crossed his arms and watched.

  A light glow emanated from inside the forge, and the Draugr could sense the charmed item.

  The Draugr waited. Soon, the person made their way out of the forge carrying a war hammer, something the person must have stolen from the forge. The thief though had some difficulty carrying the war hammer, but with some effort, carried it away. The Draugr lightly sniffed the air. The war hammer was the item of magic he had sensed earlier.

  Once the thief was safely out of sight, the Draugr detached from the shadows and began to follow, but then another person furtively made their way into the same forge. The cat merely meowed loudly as if hungry.

  This person ignored the cat and instead of using magic to light his way, lit a match. The Draugr could hear him rustling around upstairs, could hear doors opening. In a few moments, the second thief made his way down the stairs, out the front of the forge, and melted into the night.

  The Draugr left the safety of the shadows and followed the second thief.

  The cat watched all that transpired with its usual dispassionate disposition.

  ***

  “I think my appetite is back.”

  “I knew it would be, Grum,” said Arastead. “Look, we are back at our forge, let us fix a quick snack before sleep overtakes us.”

  “I see Peg is here to greet us,” said Farling.

  Peg meowed loudly.

  “I will get her something to eat as well,” said Arastead.

  Peg watched the young blacksmiths enter the forge and make their way upstairs, then followed. As Arastead made a quick meal of old bread and honey, she continuously rubbed up against his ankles, purring and meowing.

  “You are next,” he said to Peg. Arastead found some old meat scraps, cut them into small pieces, ideal for a cat.

  He put the plate of meat scraps on the ground. Peg quickly ate the food, then began licking her paws, cleaning and grooming.

  Arastead put bread and honey on the table. Grum and Farling quickly ate their shares while Arastead ate his more slowly.

  As Arastead pushed himself back in his chair, Peg jumped on his lap.

  “Well, hello.” He petted the cat who meowed appreciatively. Arastead looked affectionately at the cat who returned his gaze. Then, he stopped petting the cat and his hand went limp in his lap.

  “Gifts from a Norn,” said Grum, his eyes shining brightly by the light of the candle. “I was hoping the war hammer would be mine. A nice weapon to complement my bow. Something good for tight fighting.”

  Farling smiled, said: “You will need some practice with that war hammer before you actually go into battle. And before that, you will need the gloves to pick it up. You have only got half the gift so far.”

  “The gloves, I wish she had given them to me as well with the belt.”

  “Another test, something to prove ourselves and our abilities.”

  “I like to think we have done more than our fair share to prove our abilities. Arastead, would you not agree? Why so suddenly quiet?”

  Arastead’s face was slack as he stared deeply into the cat’s eyes.

  “By Odin’s beard,” said Grum quickly rising from his chair to help his friend. “What spell is that cat casting?”

  Farling put a hand on Grum’s shoulder. Then: “A moment. I do not think he is injured or in any danger. I have heard before of cats having special bonds with their masters. I just never thought to see it.”

  “What are you talking about, Farling? We just saw a dead goat come back to life and threaten us. You do not think that the same evil spirit that animated the goat’s body is not somehow working its magic through Peg?”

  “Good point.” As they made to separate Peg from Arastead’s lap, she jumped off and was quickly out of reach. She found a hidden spot and began grooming again, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

  Farling and Grum looked at Arastead. His face was still relaxed, and his eyes did not focus on them.

  Grum snapped his fingers in front of Arastead’s face. Then: “Arastead! Wake up!”

  Arastead shook his head, his eyes slowly focused on his friends.

  “What is the matter?” he said. “Did I nap?”

  “No,” said Farling, “Peg and you seemed to be having some sort of conversation to which we were not privy.”

  Arastead scoffed in surprise, said: “I did? I thought it a dream, but Peg told me a story, things she saw while we were gone visiting the Norn.”

  “What did Peg tell you?” asked Grum.

  “It appears our small forge was very
busy while we were gone. First, someone stole the war hammer.”

  Grum cried aloud at the news, said: “My gift! But how? You need special gloves and the belt to wield it.”

  “It appears our thief wore the gloves that allowed him to carry it. It also seems as if it was a struggle for him as he was not wearing the belt. But with the gloves alone, he was able to struggle out of here with your war hammer.”

  Grum had pulled the rug aside that hid the war hammer. Then: “Gone, as Peg said.”

  “So far Peg is right,” said Farling. “Thank Odin it was not that evil spirit again that animated the goat. What else did she say? How else was the forge busy tonight?”

  “As one thief left, another entered,” said Arastead. “But it appears the thieves did not know one another, as the second thief waited for the first to leave.”

  “What did the second thief take?” asked Farling, then his voice menaced: “And Einar had better not have anything to do with this.”

  Both Arastead and Grum smiled, aware of Farling’s and Einar’s disagreements. “Nothing,” said Arastead. “He searched and left, empty handed.”

  “Strange. Was he too looking for the war hammer?”

  “No, he was looking for something else. He muttered about a sword.”

  Farling rubbed his chin, deep in thought, said: “Only one person I can think of would search this forge for a sword. Ostend, that brigand of a guard, he that stole my father’s sword when I first came to Trondheim.”

  Grum asked: “Do you think he finally realized the ruse, that Einar’s men had swapped swords?”

  “Perhaps, but I am merely guessing. Without proof, how are we to know? This does serve as a warning, that I still have an enemy out there, not of my own making, I must add.”

  Arastead rubbed his head.

  “Are you okay?” asked Grum.

  “It is just new to me,” said Arastead. “Having a cat talk inside your head takes a little getting used to.”

  “I do wonder why Peg chose you,” said Farling. “Perhaps there is more to you than we know.”

  “The Norn did give him the Princore book,” added Grum.