The sun was blazing in an azure sky, and the air had warmed – if only a few degrees – by the time Else headed back to the ship. He hated sending her off alone, but the German woman scoffed at the idea of someone holding her hand, then reminded him of how she pulled Julia’s and his ass out of the fire on the Congo River on their first encounter. She left out the part where Julia’s smooth-talking, and a shitload of his money kept her head out of a noose, though.
Thor watched the helicopter fade from view as he sat on the balcony drinking a spiced tea containing, at least, thirty percent vodka from a gold-handled tea glass. Sorina sat across the small table glaring at him. Selucca sat to his right, smiling for some reason. Mio lay near Thor’s chair, his head up and eyes darting as that nose sniffed constantly. The dog was going to be an insufferable mess in a day or two if he kept that up.
Nwabudike and the other men were walking the curtain wall with Doru Albusel and his men, checking on the fortifications. Bryndis and Mikki were off with some of the women, getting the lay of the castle – which meant they were being nosey, snooping around, and asking a ton of questions about Sorina.
“What exactly was your relationship with my grandfather?” Thor took another sip of tea, feeling the warmth spread throughout his body. No wonder these people walked around in light wool jackets or shawls, they were half full of antifreeze. Not that he minded a bit.
“If you’re asking did I bed him after Stefan died, the answer is no. The thought had crossed my mind several times. Your grandfather was very handsome, and his smile could melt a frozen pond, but Sylvia was the dearest friend a woman could ever have. I could never do that, not even to her memory.”
She looked deep into Thor’s eyes and laughed softly.
Thor pulled a cigar from his jacket pocket. Bryndis thought she had been clever, removing his stash from the duffle bag. She never thought to check the tool compartment of the helicopter. “What’s so funny?” he asked before biting the end of the cigar.
“You get your bluntness from your father,” Selucca said with a sad smile. “That boy was as straightforward as a snowplow.”
Thor fumbled through several pockets for a match, only to come up empty. Goddamn you Bryn! I should break your pickpocketing fingers! He dug into his boot, retrieving the lighter he carried for just such an emergency. He lit the cigar, closing the lighter with a sharp click before returning it to his boot. He had a sneaking-suspicion the emergency would keep arising. “You speak as if you knew my father as well.”
The old woman’s brow furrowed as her eyes searched his features. “You really don’t know,” she almost whispered.
“Know what?” Thor took a sip from his glass. He could not be positive, but he believed the gold glass holder once belonged to the Romanovs; an odd thing for a Soviet general’s daughter to have.
If this keeps up, I’m going to need a program to keep track of all the players!
“Baldur Odinsson was born in the room next to mine,” Selucca stated proudly.
It took every bit of effort Thor had to keep tea from shooting out his nose as he choked. “What?!” Huh, that’s a shitload of curious! Dad’s birth certificate says he was born in Montreux Switzerland. So, either this woman is lying to me, or gramps lied to everyone. A few weeks ago, his money would have been on the old woman to be the liar. Now, however, he was not so sure.
Sorina’s eyes went wide, and she sat forward leaning on the table. Her gaze darted from Selucca to Thor and back again, the spark of curiosity she had a moment before a raging inferno.
Selucca nodded. “I held your grandmother’s hand during the delivery.” She laughed softly, holding her right hand before her. “Sylvia actually broke two of my fingers. God, that woman was strong! They kept me company for three years, while Vali and Stefan dug up every inch of ground they could.”
Three years! Thor’s eyes lowered. His grandmother died when his father was three. “How did grandma die?” he asked quietly.
Selucca took a sip of tea, studying his face over the rim. She sat the glass on the table, clearing her throat. “What did Vali tell you?”
“He said grandma got a fever, and died in her sleep. I can tell by your reaction, that’s not true, is it?”
A tear trickled down Selucca’s wrinkled cheek. “No, but I wish it were. Baldur had managed to slip out of his room early, then continued his never-ending exploration of this place. He was teetering at the top of the stairs when Sylvia and I found him. We ran toward that little boy as fast as we could… Sylvia caught Baldur by the collar and flung him backwards into my arms as she was falling down the stairs…” Her voice turned into a whisper. “God, that woman was so strong…”
Selucca wiped her cheek with a handkerchief. She sniffed, and blotted at her nose with the cloth. “After the funeral, Vali took Baldur to Switzerland and hired an army to watch over him…. If there was one cruel act your grandfather ever committed, it was that. Vali would bring Baldur with him during his visits, but it was not the same. Nothing was. After Stefan was killed, I begged Vali to keep Baldur as far from here as possible, as much as it killed me.”
Sorina stared at her grandmother as if seeing the woman for the first time.
Selucca patted Thor’s hand. “I am sorry this rests on your shoulders. Your grandfather tried so hard to end this before it caught you as well.”
Every word the old woman spoke was the truth; the amulet told him that. There was something she was not saying, however. Perhaps, with a bit more work with the gold medallion around his neck, he could drag what she was holding back from her.
Sorina, on the other hand, held nothing back; not even making the slightest attempt to hide her revulsion for him. First Tilde, now Sorina. I’m starting to take this personally!
Thor sat quietly. How much of what his grandfather told him was a lie? Shielding a small child from the horrors of the past is one thing, but continuing the lie when the truth would have helped the future was unforgivable. Anger and frustration were welling up inside Thor as he thought of what he could have done with all the information his grandfather took to the grave.
The warmth of the gold links on his skin only made things worse; it reminded Thor how much his grandfather failed to prepare him for what lies ahead. The old man had been dead for years, so why wait to deliver the amulet until now? If he had the damned thing years ago, things would be different now! He could have… he would have…Been as prepared for what lies ahead, as a preschooler is to take the SAT. Hel, I’m not much better off now!
Thor took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Anger was not going to help this situation, it could, however, make things a lot worse.
“You’re the hardest man I’ve ever met.” Those were “Steve’s” words. It was true. He is a hard man now. It took every experience of his life to bring him to this point. Every devastation, failure, and triumph helped forge him into the man he was; life and experience had been the anvil and hammer. When he was ready, the amulet came into his possession; not a moment sooner. But the question still remains: Ready for what?
Thor looked to Selucca. “She that has tamed the dragon…”
“Swallows the moon,” Selucca said, shaking her head. “Your grandfather has had trusted people looking into that for the past sixty years. No one knows what it means.”
Thor sighed. It was worth a shot.
He glanced at Sorina, deciding her skin was too pale for her dark hair and eyes. A few weeks in the Bahamas would take care of that! “I’m not the Devil you think I am,” he said to her.
She sneered at him. That was even somewhat attractive. “To be honest, Thor Odinsson, sitting this close to a thief and murderer makes my skin crawl.”
Thor chuckled inside. It often amused him how stories concerning him were greatly exaggerated. Depending on whom you asked, he was either walking on water and performing miracles, or spending his days burning, raping and pillaging. He finished his tea, then rose to his feet. He took Selucca’s frail hand in his. “I wo
uld very much like to see the room in which my father was born.”
The old woman smiled. “I can do better than that. I still have every photograph of him, and you, that Vali gave me. Your grandfather was very proud of his family.”
Thor nodded. “I would love to see them as well.” He turned, took a few steps, and stopped. “Oh, Sorina,” he said over his shoulder, “I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”
Selucca shook with laughter. “You inherited Sylvia’s wit, that’s for sure!”
Sorina stared at her grandmother as if she were a total stranger.
Thor strode across the courtyard, Mio beside him stride for stride. The mastiff stopped suddenly, his hackles rising as he gave a low growl. Thor closed his eyes, giving himself to the nothingness that was becoming easier to find.
There was something out there, distant just out of reach, stirring. It was fully aware of something hunting it, but not of Thor. Thor could sense the feeling of rage like nothing he ever felt before. Hidden deep was a spark of fear growing stronger, which made the rage worse.
“Good boy,” Thor said, scratching the dog’s giant melon of a head.
Thor’s steps were quicker. He wanted to see how the men were coming along; these people carried a glimmer of hope the creature would not attack this month. Thor knew better. It was coming straight for them, and they only had a few days to prepare.
That night he sat in the dim light of his room. Mio was already on the bed, guarding the spot he has chosen for himself, which was most of the bed. The musty smell had faded considerably, but it would take a solid week, if not more, for the fireplace to take the chill from the stone floor.
Selucca Lazarovici made good on her promise; the two of them spent hours in the room his father and grandmother shared, pouring over hundreds of photos –dozens of which Thor had never before seen. Selucca got teary-eyed at the sight of a few; judging by the stains they bore, it was not the first time.
Thor learned more about his grandparents in a few hours from this woman, than he did from the years spent with his grandfather. Finding out that Vali and Sylvia Odinsson’s continuous displays of public affection caused a scandal, made Thor laugh. Selucca edited the more explicit accounts – to Thor’s gratitude – out of respect for her friends.
The woman was delightful company, warm and quick-witted. Thor had no idea why Sorina had hate-filled eyes for the old woman.
The window rattled as the wind gusted, and a chill swept through the room. Thor glanced at Mio. Sharing the bed with that lummox may not be such a horrible thing in this place; the ball of fur would, at least, keep him warm.
Thor sat on the edge of the bed, removing his shirt and socks. He stripped his jeans, then reached for the chain around his neck. His hand froze when he smelled the sweet scent of lavender. Mio started panting, his tail wagging to thump the mattress like a drum. Thor heard a soft voice in his ear: “Not tonight.” He felt warm fingers prying his own from the chain, and warmer lips brush his cheek. Mio whined softly as the scent faded.
Thor climbed into bed, sighing heavily as Mio repositioned himself a dozen times before settling down. Thor took several slow, deep breaths, and welcomed the tidal-wave of blackness rushing toward him.
Chapter 17
The Keeper of Souls
She descended upon the ancient keep on the wings of a shadow of a shadow.
Her names since the dawn of time were far too numerous to mention, and those that called to her by them long since passed to the forgotten memories of time. Truth be told, she had little liking of any of them, most were revolting and offensive. There was one, spoken just once by a young Welsh girl, hours before they pulled her lifeless body from the frigid North Atlantic in the early April hours of 1912: Keeper of souls. She not only liked that name, she thought it was the most magnificent thing she had ever heard; for it is exactly what she was.
She glided past two sentries guarding the massive stone wall, as silent as death and just as patient. If she were noticed at all, it would have been from the corner of an eye and soon forgotten. She would have her time with those men one night. For now, she was on a mission, a request beyond her refusal.
She glided through the castle’s corridors like a specter, an aberration traversing the fringe of human reality. A young woman shivered as she passed, believing a draft chilled her bones; hoping more like, by the way those wide eyes darted. She continued up the stairs, to the twisting corridors of the east tower, and through the crack of a locked door. She crossed the room, easing the huge dog back to sleep with the gentlest touch. The beast was no concern of hers, and she none of his. She gazed down on the face of the young man sleeping and smiled. She was the keeper of souls, and this was her reason for being.
She bent close, her lips brushing his cheek before she whispered in his ear: “Remember who you are, Thor Odinsson.”
Without hesitation, she turned, leaving the room as silent as death; her mission not yet completed.
* * *
“Did you save room for dessert, Thor?” Ramona asked with a smile. It was not as frequently asked as one would think; most of the time she simply brought a little something whether it was ordered or not. Whenever Thor’s mother or father would object, the middle-aged woman would raise an eyebrow before shaking her head and walking away.
“Not this morning,” Baldur Odinsson replied, waving a hand vigorously. “He’s going to have plenty of ice cream and cake, later. We just needed a little man time before the party.”
“You’re birthday isn’t today, already?” Ramona winked at Thor. The woman not only knew it was, she baked the cake, and was bringing her two sons to the party. “Eight-years-old! Where does time go? You were barely a month old, the first time your mom and dad brought you in here.” The short, dark-haired woman kissed Thor on top of his head. “Happy birthday, little man.” She then took the bill and slipped it into her apron.
Thor’s father smiled, shaking his head, then placed a folded fifty- dollar bill under an abandoned plate on the table next to them as Ramona walked away; placing a finger to his lips as he sat down again. It was a strange game they played; she would tear up the check, and he would leave money on another table, knowing the woman worked too hard to make a living to pass on what was owed her.
“You stupid bitch!” a man’s voice bellowed, before the sound of clattering dishes turned every head in the small diner.
“I’m so sorry,” Ramona said, attempting to wipe the man’s sleeve with a towel.
“Sorry?!” the man shouted, red-faced. “Look what you’ve done. You’ve ruined my suit, you fucking whore.” He pushed Ramona, the woman catching herself on the edge of a table to keep her from falling to the floor. The second man at the table laughed as if he had just heard the funniest joke in his life.
“Ramona!” Thor shouted, rushing to the woman’s aid.
“I’m alright, Honey,” the woman said, stroking the side of Thor’s face. She was trying her best to smile at him, but she was hurt; pain filled her eyes as she fought to hold back the tears.
Anger welled up within the young boy. He wanted so much to hit the man, but his grandmother had taught him never to strike out in anger; it clouds the judgment, and puts you in needless danger. Assess the situation, then make them wish they had never been born.
“You’re replacing my suit, you stupid cow!” the man spat.
“If you were so worried about that cheap, off-the-rack, ill-fitting, piece-of-shit-suit, then perhaps you shouldn’t have reached across the table while your coffee was being poured.” Baldur Odinsson strode up to the table calmly. “Don’t you think?”
The second man at the table stood, and Thor’s eyes nearly popped out. Thor had always considered his 6’ 2”, 185 pound father huge. This man was much, much bigger!
The big man made a move toward Baldur, and received a crotch-full of Baldur’s knee for the effort. Then Baldur grabbed the back of the man’s head with both hands and drove the man’s face into the table top wi
th every ounce of strength he had. The big man crumpled to the floor like a sack of wet laundry, his nose seemed to have exploded into non-existence, and blood poured from the wound like an open faucet. There was a dinner-plate-sized area left on the table that looked like someone had burst a fistful of ketchup packets with a sledge hammer.
“There are two doors in this place,” Baldur said to the red-faced man, gesturing to the front door, then the rear. “The front door leads to the street. You can – and I suggest you do – pay your bill, and leave the rest of the money both of you have. Apologize to the woman for being an insufferable asshole, take your friend to a hospital, and live the rest of your life.” He gestured to the rear of the diner. “The back door leads to the alley: It’s a dark, scary world, filled with pain and misery. I’ll be more than happy to take you back there. Maybe – and that’s a very weak maybe! – I’ll get too tired to beat you until your heart stops beating. Be quick with your choice; in five seconds, the front-door-option is off the table.”
The man had the good sense to empty his pockets, his friend’s pockets, make a heartfelt apology, and leave as quickly as he could help the big man out the door. He would have better sense not to come back, Thor’s father would not be so kind the next time.
Thor’s father had done exactly what his grandmother, Julia, had taught Thor to do. His grandmother, however, would not have given the man the “front-door-option”, and Thor would have sat down at the table with Ramona, eating a bowl of ice cream, until the screams in the alley fell silent.
“Let’s not tell your mother about this,” Baldur said to Thor. “You know how she tends to blow things like this way out of proportion.”
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