And the young woman wore Freya’s circlet! Again, Ogre Mage was rocked to his core at this incredible discovery. Like the young boy with the cat, magic was strong in the young woman as well, but a different sort of magic. He tapped his nose in thought. That was it, the boy was a wizard, the young woman a cleric. She drew her magical powers from Yggdrasil: the boy drew his powers from the Midgard Serpent.
The discovery of the four young people was a fascinating and a wonderful distraction from his normal work that the king of elves, Amaliji, had commanded of Ogre Mage.
He stared at them lying on the ground as there was still something he could sense but could not yet understand. Then it struck him: that is why he felt them coming through the Alfheim Gateway: they each wore amulets designed to open portals. It was their amulets that he had felt.
And he breathed a sigh of relief.
It was those amulets he would use to gain access to that portal he could sense in Trondheim. King Amaliji would be pleased. But Ogre Mage would only be allowed to see his wife and daughter once Queen Astrid of Dennland had been kidnapped, for it was she who was pregnant with child. And it was not just any child, but the Sorceress, destined to be the greatest witch in all the Norse realms, the one who would help the elves rule all the realms and strike fear into the Norns.
And it would be Ogre Mage who would raise the child in the ways of magic, train the child, help the child wield the greatest magic ever seen.
Ogre Mage mumbled a spell under his breath ensuring the four people lying on the portal rune would stay asleep until he returned. And, as an extra protective measure, he placed a charm spell around the portal rune so that if anyone stepped outside it, he would know; even the cat.
Locking the door to his room, he placed an extra spell of silence on the door ensuring no one could hear the people inside his room in case they woke.
He glanced out a window to gauge where the sun was in the sky. At this time of day, King Amaliji would be hunting deer. Gathering up his robe, he picked up his pace, eager to let King Amaliji know the good news.
Ogre Mage found the king and his retinue in the stables about to hunt. Amaliji, dressed in resplendent hunting clothes appeared surprised to see Ogre Mage.
“Ogre,” he said, “I take it you have news that could not wait. I know your fear of horses, so it must be important for you to be so near to them.”
Ogre Mage did look uncomfortable.
“Your Majesty,” began Ogre Mage, “I apologize for disturbing you before you embark on your hunt. I know how much you enjoy this time.”
Sundaliji, the elf king’s advisor interjected as he said: “Make it quick, ogre, as our horses chomp at the bit and I would not like them to chomp you.”
Ogre Mage managed a weak smile at Sundaliji, then faced Amaliji as he said: “Your Majesty, I have found a way for you to send an elite group into Trondheim. When it is convenient for you, I humbly request an audience with you to discuss this development.”
Amaliji’s eyes practically danced. Said: “Well done, ogre, well done. I honestly did not think you would be able to do it, but you never cease to impress me. We will discuss soon. I will send someone to your room.”
“One more thing if I may?”
Sundaliji now looked irritated. He brought his horse in close to Ogre Mage as he hissed: “Make it quick, ogre. You waste my king’s time.”
Amaliji waved off his advisor. “Ogre, what would you ask of me?” he said.
“I would like to see my wife and daughter, Your Majesty. I would hope that this breakthrough, the ability to move an elite team to kidnap Queen Astrid, mother of the Sorceress, would grant me a small favor with Your Majesty. My wife and daughter, I would like to see them soon.”
Amaliji nodded and said: “Of course, of course. Let us first select the group of elves who will kidnap Queen Astrid. And upon their safe return, I will consider your request.”
“You are too kind, Your Majesty,” said Ogre Mage and left to return to his room.
***
Once Ogre Mage was beyond earshot, Sundaliji whispered to Amaliji. “When will you let him know his wife and daughter are dead, feathered with many arrows as they were the prey once on a hunting expedition?”
“Never,” replied the king. “He still believes they are alive, that fool. I am surprised in some ways he has never surmised their fate on his own. I never realized these ogres could be so gullible and want to believe my lies so badly.”
“A good thing as he is still providing to be very useful.”
“We will still need him for a very long time, as he is the only one capable of training the Sorceress. Our fool Branaliji and his necromancers, while useful, could never train a Sorceress, could never help this Sorceress reach her full potential.”
“Her?” repeated Sundaliji. “Queen Astrid of Dennland will give birth to a baby girl?”
“Did you not know? Well then, a little advice for you, my advisor. Sorceresses are always women. You think a boy could combine the runes of the Midgard Serpent and the runes of Yggdrasil? No, only women are that powerful. Now, let us hunt that deer.”
***
Ogre Mage stood outside his door and listened. Because he had cast the spell of silence on his room, he could hear inside. But no sound or voices could be heard. Still, he looked down the hallways, but no elves could be seen. He left the silence spell in place, knowing he did not wish for any elves to walk by and hear voices not his own.
Once inside his room, he looked down at the sleeping people and cat. Impressed that he still remembered how to cast a proper sleeping spell that even affected cats, he busied himself with making food and coffee, suspecting that his guests would be hungry and thirsty when they woke.
After a simple meal had been prepared and the coffee was on the woodstove, he lifted the sleeping spell.
He did not have to wait long.
Farling opened his eyes first. Memories flooded back and he leaped to his feet, shield on arm, sword in hand. Upon seeing Ogre Mage, Farling gasped: “What are you?”
Farling stole quick glances around the room taking in his surroundings. The room was quite large, with walls and walls of books. He could not help himself as he thought how Pressan would probably like this room. Fine carpets were laid on the floors and a small kitchen was in one corner. A woodstove was in another corner and had a pot of coffee on the boil. The smell of coffee brought Farling back to attention.
He noticed his friends still slept. With a toe, he lightly nudged everyone, even Princess Margret. Soon, everyone was awake. Peg, Arastead’s cat, looked especially cowed by the presence of the ogre and looked as if she tried to hide behind Arastead’s neck.
Ogre Mage cleared his throat. “My name is Ogre Mage,” he began, “although you may simply refer to me as Mage, if you prefer.”
“You are an ogre!” stammered Grum. “And you talk!”
“I am more than an ogre, young sir, I am an Ogre Mage. Which, of course, is why you may refer to me as Mage. You may put away your weapons.”
Farling looked at everyone else and realized like them that there was little to zero chance they could defeat Mage. He removed his shield and leaned it against a bookcase. He put Flamebringer in its scabbard and undid the scabbard’s belt. He then put his sword near this shield. Everyone else put their weapons in the same pile.
“As I said, you may call me Mage. If you would be so kind as to introduce yourselves.”
Reluctantly, everyone said their names. Princess Margret introduced herself last.
“An Aarlund princess,” said Mage. “I am honored.” He bowed with no hint of irony. “Your circlet, princess, please place it on the pile as I know a weapon when I see it.”
Margret reluctantly did as asked.
Mage grinned. Said: “I have prepared a simple repast and the coffee is almost ready. Please, seat yourselves around my basic table. I apologize, princess, for the humbleness of these surroundings.”
Recovering her poise, Margret said:
“As I am your guest, Mage, I welcome your kindness. The food looks delicious.”
In gratitude, Mage nodded. Everyone sat at the table using stools as the table was quite high.
“How do you take your coffee?” asked Mage of everyone.
Farling answered first: “We usually just drink it as is.”
“Ah, you take it black,” said Mage.
“I suppose so,” said Farling. “What are the other ways to drink coffee?”
“I have sugar and cream,” said Mage. “You can add one or the other, or both.”
Grum shrugged. “I will try it with a little sugar and cream,” he said.
Mage nodded. Everyone else let him know how they wanted their coffee. In a bit, he had prepared all the coffees and served everyone. By then, everyone had finished their meal.
Grum patted his tummy and said: “Mage, the food was quite good. My thanks.”
Everyone agreed, even Peg had found something to eat that was to her liking. Grum continued: “And coffee with cream and sugar is quite enjoyable. I will have to suggest that to Pressan once we are back in Trondheim.”
But as soon as Grum mentioned Trondheim, everyone looked worried.
“Mage,” began Arastead, “we will be returning home, will we not? Or are we your prisoners?”
Mage sat in his large chair at the table. Said: “While you are not my prisoners, you are not free to go. You realize where you are?”
Margret nodded and answered: “Before I removed Freya’s circlet, I sensed a difference in the realm. I know we went through the Alfheim Gateway, hurled through it by the Heart Tree’s dryad. But instead of travelling through we were taken from the gateway by force because of the portal rune you drew on the ground.”
Mage nodded then said: “Accurately put, princess. I sensed you four coming through the Alfheim Gateway as I am attuned to gateways and portals. It is one of the many services I provide to my master.”
“And who is your master?” asked Farling. “I am not aware of any realm being owned by ogres. What realm are we in?”
“We are in Alfheim,” answered Arastead. “Peg senses tell her we are in the realm of the elves. We must have come through the gateway and Mage merely brought us here to his room instead of us coming straight through the gateway. Which is just as well, as I suspect there would have been a small battalion of elves to greet us.”
Mage chuckled. Said: “A rather large battalion of elves to be exact. The gateway was soon to be opened. The elves had their spears sharpened, swords whetted, shields polished. I suspect with you four coming through the gateway that it is almost open. The ill-named Unbreakable Barrier will soon be gone?”
Grum now chuckled. “I never did like that name, Unbreakable Barrier,” he said. “The elves will have to go home as I am quite sure that the Unbreakable Barrier is once again living up to its name. Before we were hurled through the gateway, the Heart Tree was almost dead, as was its dryad. I do not think either recovered. The Alfheim Gateway is sealed, so we are stuck here forever.”
“No, Grum,” said Margret, “there are other gateways to other realms. We may not return to Midgard, the realm of man by way of that gateway, but there are others. We would just need to find a way to another realm that has a gateway to home.”
“But we are prisoners, princess,” said Farling. “We are in Mage’s private quarters, and we are in Alfheim. We do not look like elves. We are safe for the moment here but there is no way we may escape. We do not even know where there is another gateway here in Alfheim.”
“And we are Mage’s prisoners, are we not?” Arastead looked sharply at Mage.
Mage shrugged and said: “Prisoner is such a pejorative term. I like to think of you as my guests.”
“Guests, however, who may not leave your room and had all our weapons, especially our items of magic, taken from us,” said Farling.
“Easy, Farling,” said Grum, “at the least Mage has not turned us over to the elves.”
“Not yet, but he still might,” said Farling. “The elves would be very interested in us and our weapons. When they attack Midgard, our weapons may prove to be very useful for them.”
Mage shook his head. Said: “Dwarf magic does not work for elves. The elf-king may wear Grum’s gloves and the belt, but no magic would imbue him. Flamebringer, Farling’s sword, is only useful against the frost giants, and the elves do not war with them. Freya’s circlet can also only be worn by a human, not an elf. And of course, Arastead’s cat is bound to him, not to an elf. So, there you go, your weapons are useless.”
Grum mumbled: “Well, that is a small relief.”
“But unfortunately,” began Mage, “the elves could make a gift of your weapons to the frost giants. Thrymr would be most pleased to have those weapons safely locked away underneath his castle in Jotunheim where no one could reach them. A gift like that would go far in strengthening the alliance between elves and giants.”
“And the relief is gone,” mumbled Grum.
Mage looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought. After a few moments he said: “I do sense that the Midgard Gateway is now sealed. The Unbreakable Barrier is once again strong. That means the elves will need to find another way to attack your realm.”
“There is another way?” asked Farling.
“There is always another way,” answered Mage. “But it will take time.”
Mage stood and said: “So, because I cannot have the elves discover you in this room, I need your amulets.”
“Why would you need our amulets?” asked Farling. “They give us access to a hidden guild in Trondheim. Our amulets would not help you here. And they are not weapons.”
“No, but those amulets are still powerful,” said Mage. “And they will help me here in ways you could not fathom. Now, your amulets, please.”
Everyone reluctantly removed their amulets and handed them to the Mage. He stuffed them into one of the many pockets he had on his robe.
“Good, now grab your weapons, and stand back inside the portal rune. We need to get out of my room.”
CHAPTER 24
Ogre Mage Teaches a Lesson
The sensation of traveling by portal was becoming familiar to Farling: A strange sound like the wings of many birds beating the air at once, and a slight sensation of nausea. He always closed his eyes when moving through a portal, even the portal at the thieves guild in Trondheim.
When he opened his eyes, he and the others were standing in the middle of a village.
“Where are we?” asked Grum, holding his war hammer closely.
Mage answered: “The village where I grew up.”
“Your village is in Alfheim,” stated Margret. “We did not change realms.”
“I see your abilities grow, princess. You are correct, we are still in Alfheim, far away from any elf farm or village.”
“It is a bit of a fixer-upper,” said Grum with a sniff.
“It was abandoned decades ago,” said Mage. “When the elves swept through here, my clan fought, but we lost. I sent many away using my portals, far beyond the reach of the elves. Still, they captured my wife and daughter. And many others.”
“They hold them still,” said Margret. “That is why you work for the elves.”
Mage’s silence was answer enough.
Farling looked around. The buildings were large, big enough to accommodate the great size of an ogre. Walking around, he felt like a child.
“This way,” said Mage. He led them to a large building, almost a barn. The double-doors creaked open slowly. “This is where my ogres trained.”
“Ogres trained?” asked Grum.
Mage stared at the ground, then said: “We were an elite fighting clan. No shield wall could withstand the shock of our ogre attack. Our catapults hurled boulders that leveled castles, our arrows pierced walls, our clubs crushed skulls. We were the fighting elite.”
“Mercenaries,” said Margret, “you were sell-swords. Hired for coin.”
Mage smiled. Said: “A fa
mily has to eat, has to earn its way. What else were ogres to do? Live under bridges.”
“That is a troll, actually,” said Farling.
“And ogres are not trolls,” said Mage.
Farling shrugged, then said: “So who hired your mercenary ogres, Mage?”
“Ages ago, the elves fought each other, and would need help, which is where the ogres came in. But this King Amaliji ended the squabbling. He united the elf clans by brute force. He attacked our village, swarmed us, and took our best fighters. He grew tired of our arrogance. He did not want to pay the coin we demanded. And so he ordered our village emptied. Long ago, ogres were the elite bodyguards for royalty. Those days are long gone.”
“So there still is an elite ogre unit fighting for the elves,” said Farling. “But they are not mercenaries any longer.”
Mage shook his head. “No,” he began, “not paid in coin, just paid in lashes of the whip. They wear the scars of the unwilling on their backs.”
“But they are willing enough to fight,” said Farling.
“They were born to fight, so they will fight whoever the elves tell them,” replied Mage. “I was able to send many of their wives and their children far away, but not all. So, the warriors fight for the chance to be reunited with their families.”
“Just like you,” said Margret.
And in a heavy voice, Mage said: “Yes, princess, just like me.”
“So how do ogres train?” asked Grum hefting his war hammer and smiling hard.
“Easy, Grum,” said Farling. “I am still confused by all this. So much has just happened. The elves cannot come through the Alfheim Gateway as we destroyed the Heart Tree and the Unbreakable Barrier is once again strong. But you, Mage, do not seem too concerned by all that. You mentioned there is another way. You just brought us here by a portal rune you drew on the ground. You transported as many of your people away when the elves decided your clan should no longer be free but work for the elves as slaves. Are you planning on creating a massive portal to transport elves to Midgard?”
The Prophecy of Asgard Page 15