by E. G. Foley
An imposing figure, he was accepting the compliments of the visiting princes, who lifted their drinking horns to him with many a toast. The boys heard him telling the foreign visitors a little about the contest ahead. “There will be three parts to our tournament: a test of strength; a test of courage; and a test of wits.”
“That last one should be interesting, under the circumstances,” Archie mumbled.
Jake smiled wryly at him.
“The last man standing after all these deadly challenges will have proved himself worthy to marry my daughter and inherit my crown,” King Olaf declared. “Not that I’m in any great hurry to be rid of either!”
The princes laughed at his jest, and the boys moved on, taking care to avoid getting stepped on. Archie was nearly drenched when one of the giant knights sloshed mead from his drinking horn above them. Jake saw it coming and yanked him out of the way just in time, otherwise, his cousin might have drowned under the cascade.
Snorri must have seen the near-miss, too, for he came running over. “Are you all right, Master Archie? I can’t have anything happen to my coaches!”
“I’m all right, thanks.” Archie nodded and dried his spectacles.
Jake was about to challenge Snorri to ask Princess Kaia to dance when a fierce-looking, dark-haired giant came swaggering over to them.
His eyes shone aggressively, and Jake suspected he had already had too much ale to drink. “Well, if it isn’t the village idiot! So, shepherd—” The towering warrior paused to let out a mighty burp, punching himself in the chest to force it out. “I hear you’ve entered our contest.”
Snorri backed away from him a little. “Hello, Gorm,” he said warily.
Gorm propped one huge fist on his waist and clapped Snorri as hard as possible on the back in what was supposed to look like a friendly greeting. “You do realize, dolt, that I’m going to crush you, right? To be honest, I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Leave him alone, Gorm!” Kaia came marching over and stood between the two. She must have seen the trouble brewing. “Snorri can enter the contest if he wants to!”
Gorm scoffed. “He has no chance of winning, but just suppose he did. Think of your future, married to this buffoon!”
“You’re the buffoon!” Snorri answered.
“What did you say?” Gorm demanded, moving toward him.
Kaia stopped him, planting her hand on his armored breastplate. Gorm glanced down at her in warning. “It’s cruel of you, letting your stooge do this for you, Kaia. He’s just going to get humiliated again and probably killed. All the feats are dangerous. But perhaps our fearsome shepherd isn’t worried about dragons?” Gorm taunted, staring past her at his rival.
Archie looked at Jake, wide-eyed. “Dragons?”
“Blimey,” Jake whispered in anticipation.
“Even I don’t relish going into those woods,” Gorm said in an ominous tone, gazing at Kaia. “But I shan’t hesitate, my love. Because you’re worth it.”
“Ugh,” she muttered.
Gorm flashed a smarmy grin. “I know you think I’m angry about your refusal to marry me and your father’s notion of this silly contest, but you’re wrong. I don’t mind a bit. I’m not afraid to earn you. By the time it’s over, you’ll come to your senses and realize I’m what’s best for you and for Jugenheim.”
“No, you’re not,” Snorri said with that same pugnacious look on his homely face that Jake remembered from the cave.
Once more, Gorm reacted accordingly. “What did you—”
“Gorm—save it,” Kaia ordered. “Snorri, don’t bait him.”
Snorri glared and stayed silent, while Gorm managed a wolfish smile. “As you wish, milady,” the warrior said, flicking a derisive glance at his foe. “I suppose you’re right. There’s no real harm in letting him participate. We could always use some comic relief.”
As Gorm swaggered away, Kaia grabbed Snorri’s arm. “Don’t let him get under your skin. Come, dance with me!”
Snorri looked terrified of this order, but there was nothing the boys could do to save him as she cheerfully dragged him away for a dance.
Meanwhile, Jake and Archie could hear Gorm talking to his wild Viking henchmen in the corner. “Now, tomorrow, when the contest starts, I want to hear you cheer for me. It’s important the people see that I’m the clear favorite. We need to get the people on my side against the others. It’s a mental advantage.” He pointed shrewdly to his temple, and the big brute warriors all nodded with dawning understanding.
“All right, Gorm, we’ll cheer!”
“Good,” he said, looking around at all of them with a cold nod. “After all, why should we let one of these foreign strangers come in and marry our chieftain’s daughter? Become our next king? I think not.”
The warriors shouted agreement, pounding on the table.
“She belongs with one of us,” Gorm said, “and I’m the obvious choice.”
“Aye!” they said again.
“Why would the king insult you like this, Gorm?” one of his followers said cautiously.
“Ahh, it’s not the old man’s fault. It’s Kaia’s doing, but don’t worry. She’ll learn to do as she’s told and mind her place when she’s my wife. As for His Majesty, why, he probably went along with it just to test my mettle. See if I’m really worthy. But I know I am, so I don’t mind. I enjoy the challenge. So great a prize should not be won too easily. Believe me, if I was angry about it, you’d know,” he added with an ominous laugh.
“Right, Gorm, nobody wants to see you angry, Gorm!” his followers nervously assured him.
Jake and Archie exchanged a worried glance while Prince Gorm held out his cup for someone to go and refill it.
“Let’s just get this contest over with, and later, once I’m king, we’ll see about expanding our people’s territory. This land is getting too small for us. Why should we not lay claim to other kingdoms? It will be like the old days of our ancestors, sailing off to distant lands—plunder and pillage!”
“Good times,” they said.
“That’s right! Stick with me, lads, I’ll make you rich!” he promised. His followers let out a hearty cheer, and Prince Gorm lifted his chin proudly.
As the boys watched from a safe distance, Jake knew in his bones that Gorm would do whatever it took to win.
He was mulling over how to make sure Gorm didn’t cheat during the tournament, when all of a sudden, Jake was lifted off his feet without warning.
“Look! Dollies!”
He let out a yelp as a giant little girl lifted him high in delight. “Hello, nice doll! What’s your name?”
“Put me down!” He kicked and struggled to no avail as the ten-foot-tall six-year-old giggled happily and hugged him.
“Help! Archie, do something!” he bellowed, muffled against her shoulder as he kicked. “Put me down!”
Archie, curse him, was trying not to laugh.
But then, the wee girl’s big (very big) sister ran over to investigate. She was slightly older, maybe eight or nine.
She bent down a little, resting her hands on her knees as she beamed at Archie. “Oh, look at the cute little gnomes!” the second giant girl cried.
Archie backed away.
“Don’t be afraid! I won’t hurt you, little gnome!” she said sweetly.
“I’m sorry, miss, we’re not gnomes and we’re not dolls, either. Would you please tell her to put my cousin down?”
“But what are you, then?” the older one asked.
“Obviously, we’re dwarves!” Jake bellowed when the smaller one let him up for air.
“Did someone say dwarves?” A third giant youngster joined them presently—a boy this time, about Jake’s age—probably their brother, judging by their family resemblance.
The minute Jake saw the mischievous gleam in the giant boy’s eyes, he knew this one was trouble.
“Look, everyone!” the giant boy called to the other children. “Dwarves! Ho, ho, you know what that means?”
“Dwarf tossing!” the other children cried. “C’mon!” they shouted to each other. “Peter’s found a dwarf!”
Peter laughed heartily, lifting Archie off the ground.
“Help!” he cried.
“Put him down!” Jake warned, pushing against the giant girl’s two-handed grip around his waist to free himself.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be next!” Peter boomed merrily as his friends ran over to join the fun.
“Higher, higher!” the children chanted as Peter began tossing Archie into the air like a ball and catching him again.
“Noooooo!” his cousin pleaded.
They ignored him.
Well, Arch, Jake thought, watching in dismay, you wanted to fly. Here’s your chance.
“Go over there!” Peter waved one of his friends a few yards off. “I’ll throw him, you catch.”
“You’ll kill him!” Jake protested.
“No, we won’t,” Peter said while his chum ran off, laughing, and got into position to catch Archie.
“Please don’t do this,” Archie was begging them.
“Ready?” the giant boy called to his friend.
The friend waved. “All set!”
Peter began swinging Archie. “One… two…”
Thankfully, Kaia heard the “dwarves” screaming, for she was already running toward them, leaving Snorri dancing by himself. “Children! Stop that at once!” she ordered—but she was too late.
For at that precise moment, Peter let go of Archie, hurling him into the air.
“Ahhhhhh!” he screamed, his arms and legs pin-wheeling as he soared through empty space, this time, without the help of any flying machine. “Hellllp!”
He landed abruptly in a soft place: Princess Kaia’s bosom, where he bounced once, then fell, vanishing with a yelp down the front of her giant dress, through no fault of his own, of course. The princess also shrieked as if a spider had dropped into her clothes.
She had meant to catch him, but not like that!
A moment later, Archie’s head popped up like a baby bird in a nest. “Jake?” he whimpered, gasping for air. “Help?”
The giant children roared with hilarity and even Jake had to hold back laughter. The proper young English gentleman was perfectly mortified. Poor Archie didn’t know where to look. He held up his hand to shade his eyes from things he ought not to see. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Your Highness!” he stammered.
Princess Kaia plucked him out of the front of her dress, frowning sternly at the giant children. “It’s all right, Master Archie. It wasn’t your fault,” she said, striving to regain her royal dignity.
She set him back down gently on the ground, then pointed sternly at the giant little girl, Jake’s captor. “Anna, put him down! Children, that was most uncalled for. Peter, all of you, leave the dwarves alone. They are our guests! We must treat them with respect. If you bother them again, I’ll have your parents take you home to bed.”
Jake and Archie huddled together mistrustfully as the giant children mumbled their apologies.
“That’s better,” Kaia said, hands on hips. “Now run along and stay out of trouble!”
“Thank you,” Jake said to the princess while Archie leaned against him like he might pass out. “Are you all right, coz?”
Archie just looked at him like he might never get over it.
To make things even more humiliating, the boys now realized that the king himself had seen the whole thing and had gotten a good, merry laugh out of it.
King Olaf came sauntering over, still chuckling. “You must forgive our children, master dwarves. Giant younglings are known to be especially high-spirited.”
The boys managed to bow to him, though they were barely up to the mighty giant’s knee. “It’s all right, Your Majesty,” Jake offered. “No harm done.”
Archie’s low whimper told a different story, but only Jake heard it. He elbowed his cousin and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, “Pull yourself together! It’s the King of the Giants!”
“They were huge. They were all around me,” he croaked.
“Shrug it off! You’ll be fine,” Jake whispered.
“We are honored to have you for our guests!” King Olaf continued. “Perhaps you would favor us with some dwarven music? Your people are renowned singers. Would you do us the honor of sharing some of your songs from your land with our guests?”
Jake and Archie froze at this request.
“Sing? In front of all these people?” Archie blurted out, still traumatized by the dwarf-tossing incident.
Jake was even more eloquent. “Uh…”
When King Olaf’s shaggy white eyebrows drew together at the boys’ hesitation, they realized it wasn’t really a request. More like an order.
“Right,” Jake forced out with dire thoughts of being Blood Eagled for such disobedience. “Of course, sire. Of course we’ll be glad to sing for you. It would be an honor.”
The towering king of the giants looked satisfied. He nodded to a servant, who picked the boys up one by one much more respectfully than the children had and set them on one of the picnic tables.
Surrounded by their Norse giant audience, the boys looked at each other in absolute terror.
Jake’s mouth was so bone-dry with fear he could hardly speak, let alone carry a tune. “Can you start?”
Archie shook his head, his eyes stark and wide. “I have a terrible voice. It cracks.”
“Me, too.” Jake swallowed hard, his heart pounding. “But we have to, or we’re dead. We have to make them think we’re dwarves. Humans aren’t allowed here, remember?”
Both breaking out in a cold sweat, the boys glanced at each other in panic.
Jake gulped and looked back at the king. “We’re not really very good singers, sire, c-compared to our, our countrymen back home.”
“No matter. You will find us a tolerant audience.” The king sat down and waited for them to sing.
Blimey. Jake couldn’t think of a single song.
His mind was a blank.
The king tapped his jeweled fingers impatiently on the arm of his massive wooden throne.
“I can’t do it,” Jake breathed, totally frozen with stage-fright.
Archie somehow found the courage to come to the rescue. He took a small step forward and cleared his throat.
Jake turned to him in desperation.
“Ahem.” He began rather pitifully, his voice quavering and thin as he attempted an all-too-familiar song. “Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.”
Jake closed his eyes for a second in soul-deep relief. It was better than nothing. Apparently, it was the only song Archie was able to think of under the pressure. It seemed new to the giants, who listened intently.
Jake forced himself to join in on the second repetition.
Gorm let out a rude snort of laughter when Archie’s voice cracked, but now the two cousins were determined. Joining forces, they sang louder.
On the fourth time through, the king began to clap in time with the song, and all the princes quickly followed suit, hoping to win the King’s favor.
Encouraged—or at least able to breathe again—Jake suddenly remembered it was customary to sing this nursery song as a round.
As Archie continued singing the main line, Jake paused, waiting to come in on the second phrase of the song. The giants ooh’ed and ahh’ed at the tune sung in round form by the two boys, and applauded as the song continued.
Jake gave Archie a meaningful nod, then he walked down the table waving his arms at the left half of the audience, signaling to them to join in.
Even Snorri had quickly memorized the words—easy enough for a giant. Once the shepherd started singing, all the giants on the left began to sing along.
Archie had realized Jake’s intent, and pleased with the notion, likewise, moved down the table and motioned to the giants on the right.
Kaia helped him, leading the ot
her group in singing. Her half caught on and joined in, carrying the second line of the round.
“Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream…”
“Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream…”
“Merrily, merrily…”
“Merrily, merrily…”
“Life is but a dream.”
“…Dream. Row, row…”
All the giants were singing now. The children had leaped up and were holding hands, dancing around in a ring.
The night boomed with the happy tune, until finally, the laughing audience exploded in thunderous applause. The noise reverberated so loudly that the other Eight Worlds all probably thought a storm was coming.
Which it was, Jake thought, with Loki’s scheme never far from his mind.
Now that he had gotten to know the giants a little better, he was all the more determined to stop the trickster god from manipulating these large but simple folk into helping him bring on the end of the world.
And the best way to do that was to make sure Snorri won this tournament, married the princess, and inherited the crown.
All their worlds depended on it.
PART IV
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The Boulder Contest
The next morning, the tournament began with a test of strength. Colorful pennants snapped on the breeze and drums rumbled, adding to the excitement. All the giant peasant folk came out to watch. They gathered in the fields outside the village around the biggest hill nearby—a great, green mound known as Jotmar’s Head.
Along the bottom of this hill, the ten contestants lined up, each with a large, rounded boulder placed in front of him.
On the top of the hill stood Kaia, holding up a flag.
The Master of Ceremonies, a balding, pompous official in long robes, explained the details to the contestants. “You must carry your boulder up the hill. It’s a race, gentlemen! Whoever is the first to reach Her Highness at the top and take the flag wins this challenge. Whoever comes in last will be eliminated before the next test. Secondly!” he continued. “You must retain control of your boulder at all times! If you drop it, you must start over again at the bottom of the hill. And furthermore, any player who does not have his boulder in his arms when the contest ends will also be eliminated from the tournament. Those are the rules of our first challenge. Simple enough, I trust. Any questions?”