“You ever spend five thousand years married to the same woman?” Odin raised an eyebrow. “The honeymoon wears off after a couple of centuries and you end up with an uneasy alliance. Freya tried to kill me at least three times before I left Midgaard for the ‘raid that never ended’. It was her ferocity in a fight that drew me to her in the first place.” He chuckled. “Speaking of ferocity, how did you learn to fight like that?”
“Lothbrok talks too much,” Harry said, waving a dismissive hand.
“Lothbrok?” Odin face showed surprise. “Haven’t you seen? The Oaxians were broadcasting the fight to every planet in the Republic until the Dactari deployed a worm to kill the data. I’ve seen it with my own eye. You started with no weapon, and in the space of two minutes you put down three armed opponents. It was one of the most brutal things I’ve ever seen and I was part of the invasion of Britain, after the Romans left. My people have a name for that kind of fighting – Bezerkier.”
Harry had noticed, during Odin’s description of the fight, that Valdemar had taken his hand away from his hilt. He was struggling to keep the fear from showing on his face. He kept looking to the passing crowds as though seeking a pretext to excuse himself, but the crowds were thinning as the amphitheater filled up.
The microclimate atop this building reminded Harry of Norway. Is the climate of Midgaard like this? Maybe that’s why Odin settled in Northern Europe…
A light rain began to fall from the condenser plates, pattering softly onto the leaf mould on either side of the wide path. An automated awning began to unfold above the tiers of seats.
“Time to get started. We have a busy docket today,” Odin announced, nodding to Harry before heading for the central stair that would lead him down to the large dais.
Court was in session.
Harry soon found that the matter of his friend’s demotion was far from the top of the agenda and he spent several hours researching the protocols and traditions of this gathering. He already had a decent understanding from the Midgaard who had donated his memories to the network of training pods. The main purpose had been the training of fleet personnel to speak the Midgaard language, but the cultural knowledge went along way toward helping the Humans get along with their allies.
By the time Lothbrok’s case came up, the rain had ended and the awning had dried and folded itself, bathing the assembly in the late-afternoon sun. Harry had been surprised to realize that his friend was already standing in a circle before the dais as Valdemar spoke.
“It is a simple matter,” he declared, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Lothbrok has nine ships. He has failed in the most basic duty of any hauld – to maintain ten ships of sufficient crew and armament. I move that his title and fief be stripped from him and handed over to someone who can properly manage it, small though it may be.” He nodded at a captain in the front row as he headed for his seat. One of Valdemar’s junior haulds would take the next shot in this battle.
The captain rose, quickly taking Valdemar’s place before anyone else could claim it. “I move that Beringsburg be added to Valdemar’s holdings,” he began. “He knows how to squeeze a profit from his people and you will not be…”
“We have not yet ruled on the matter of Lothbrok’s status,” Odin cut him off harshly. “That must happen before you can pick his bones. You forfeit your words. Sit down, but know this,” he pointed a finger at the surprised captain. “You’ll be called back to the circle before these proceedings are done.”
As the hapless man returned to his seat, Odin glared around the assembly. “Will anyone speak for the accused?”
One man, the most senior of Lothbrok’s nine captains, rose to attest to the honor and cunning of their lord. He asserted that it was only a matter of time before they seized a suitable ship from the enemy, but it would have no bearing on the judgement, Harry knew. Odin was the Lawgiver, but even he was constrained by the letter of the written codes. The challenge was happening now and, though Lothbrok could almost certainly make up his numbers if given time, he currently had only nine ships at his disposal. The captain nodded sadly to Lothbrok before returning to his seat.
Harry stood.
He had chosen a seat near the front so that he could take the speaker’s place before any protest had a chance to stop him. He reached the spot amid a flurry of speculation and shouted outrage. Liev Bliekr had been killed years ago for his perfidy, but his faction still lived on and they wanted no outside interference in this attempt to seize more power for themselves.
Valdemar had been sitting in the front row and he jumped up, forgetting his earlier fear in the heat of the moment. He stalked over to stand between Harry and Odin. “This alien has no place here,” he declared forcefully. A storm of argument raged through the stands, growing silent as Odin stood and looked down at Harry.
“What do you say to that, Human?”
It seemed a harmless enough question to an outsider, but Harry knew it for the invitation it truly was. Odin’s seven words gave Harry the opportunity to force his words into the record. The next step was simple, but potentially dangerous.
He turned to Valdemar who was struggling to control his features, now that he understood the legal position he had walked into. His eyes began to show triumph as the Human captain unbuckled his gun belt and dropped it to the floor.
That look quickly faded.
“I am ready,” Harry formally declared, “to defend the truth of my words, Valdemar.” In naming Valdemar, he removed the possibility of his opponent naming a proxy. Valdemar would have to risk his own neck. The Human held his empty hands out. “I will not have it said that I employed unfair weapons and so I will defend my rights with my hands alone, against your blade,” he said with a mischievous grin, “and with it.”
A murmur of approval ran through the assembly. Loyalty and bravery were highly regarded in their culture and they were seeing both as this interloper offered to risk his blood for a friend.
“Does your objection still stand, Valdemar?” Odin demanded.
Valdemar knew he had a strong case and so he waved a dismissive hand as he turned back to the stands. “There is little point in wasting time on this, but I see no harm in letting him speak.”
Harry began before any further interruptions could be mounted. “A good friend once told me that a hauld must understand economics,” he spoke loudly, projecting his voice to the back rows. He saw barely perceptible nods, but most were now listening closely. This was the first time a Human had taken the speaker’s circle.
“To master economics, one must first come to grips with basic mathematics. That man,” he pointed to Valdemar, “says that Lothbrok has only nine ships. I say he is mistaken.”
Valdemar was instantly back on his feet. “This is a foolish waste of our time,” he shouted to Odin. “The lie is easily proven. Lothbrok’s captains sit there,” he stabbed a finger at the pitifully small group. “There are nine of them and, through them, there are only nine ships at his command.”
“It is no lie,” Harry said simply. “Do you challenge the truth of my words?”
“There is no need to challenge your words, when clear evidence exists,” Valdemar snarled, coming to stand in front of his Human adversary. “We all have eyes, and there are only nine captains.”
“I am the tenth,” Harry replied calmly. “And if you continue to call me a liar, you had better be willing to back it up.”
That was all it took. Odin had trouble bringing the proceedings back to order. Almost everyone had come to their feet, shouting their approval. Harry had observed the forms of the proceedings and he had shown both loyalty and bravery. The personal sacrifice of offering his own service to save his friend was the sort of thing that ignited their fierce pride and they loved him for it.
“Silence!” Odin’s staff captain slammed the butt end of a heavy mace against the granite of the dais with a great, thunderous boom. The noise of the crowd finally faded.
Odin raised his voice. “The procee
dings against the Lord of Beringsburg are dismissed.” He waited while the fresh roar of approval died down and then he pointed into the crowd. “Ivar, you are recalled.”
Darting a glance at Valdemar, the nervous captain came toward the dais. Odin waved him to the defendant’s circle and the crowd hushed in anticipation. Today’s Althing was turning out to be a good show.
“Ivar,” he boomed. “In the full view and hearing of this assembly, you attempted to dispose of a man’s possessions while they were still his. You stand accused of theft.” He turned to the assembly. “Will anyone here speak for him?”
Harry looked over to where Valdemar sat with his faction. A handful of his captains looked to their leader but saw no indication that he wanted anyone to speak.
“Very well,” Odin carried on. “You must pay reparations to your intended victim. The customary penalty is one tenth of your goods. He paused for a moment as he examined a retinal projection of fleet strengths. “Bakesuden is a good representation of your average vessel. Lothbrok, do you accept this ship as compensation?”
“I do, sire.” No longer a defendant, Lothbrok was allowed to speak for himself.
“But that leaves me with…” Ivar trailed off, realizing the foolishness of his outburst.
“With only nine ships?” Odin replied. “Then you had best hope that you haven’t made any enemies recently.”
A chorus of chuckles. The errant fool was an archetype of Midgaard stories.
Lothbrok was still on the floor. No longer a defendant, he had stopped halfway back to his seat, and he saw the chance that was being proffered by his master’s father. “Sire, I wish to advise the court that the hauld known as Ivar Loose-Tongue no longer has the ability to field the necessary ten ships and has therefore failed in his obligations as a noble leader.”
“Is this true, Ivar?” Odin asked in mock surprise. A few more chuckles sounded from the tiers.
“It is, sire,” he replied miserably. He had been trying to leave the circle in as unobtrusive a fashion as possible, but now he was trapped.
“Then you stand accused yet again. Will anyone speak for him?”
Harry was surprised at the sudden shift in events. He was reasonably certain that his gesture would save Lothbrok, but now it looked as though he would end up doubling his forces in the process. He looked to his friend and received a confident wink. Why doesn’t one of Valdemar’s captains just do what I did?
No one spoke. Valdemar stared fixedly at Harry with a look of pure malevolence.
“Very well,” Odin declared. “Ivar, you are found in dereliction of your obligations as a hauld. You are stripped of your status and holdings.”
Harry was watching this in fascination when he became aware of a movement to his right. Lothbrok was feigning a huge yawn, waving his arms to catch his friend’s attention. The Midgaard nodded significantly at the Lawgiver and raised his eyebrows.
Lothbrok couldn’t suggest himself as the beneficiary of this sudden bounty. Nomination had to come from a third party. “Sire,” Harry began. Thank God I haven’t returned to my seat yet, or the speaking circle would have been up for grabs. “We are at war against an implacable foe. The Lord of Beringsburg has shown his ability to defeat them in battle as recently as last week, when he eliminated the Dactari forces orbiting Oaxes.”
There was a rumble of approval at this. It closed the circle, another staple of Midgaard tales. Lothbrok’s enemies had been routed, and he would receive the spoils of the battle.
Harry knew he had chosen his words well. “I nominate Lothbrok, Lord of Beringsburg, as the new master of Ivar’s former holdings.”
“Does anyone here want to challenge the nomination?” Odin looked around at the assembly. If anyone wished to nominate an alternative, they would have to kill Harry in order to remove Lothbrok’s name from contention. It was a real possibility. Nine ships were worth fighting for, but the prevailing sentiment was clearly in favor of Harry’s proposal, and they had all seen Harry fight.
No challenge was offered.
“The remaining nine ships and the fief of Kronenstad go to Lothbrok,” Odin declared. “We stand adjourned.”
Both Harry and Lothbrok were swarmed by their fellow captains who congratulated them for turning their opponent’s attack against them. In the midst of the turmoil, Harry caught a final glimpse as Valdemar led his group out through one of the many walkways that joined the towering buildings.
“Let’s get out of here.” Lothbrok nodded toward an entrance leading to an exterior docking platform.
“I have my shuttle,” Harry nodded in the opposite direction.
Lothbrok shook his head. “Lychensee is in shift change right now,” he half shouted to be heard over the buzz of the excited crowd. “Half the workers in the city are in transit. It would take you hours to get back into orbit. Send your pilot back and I’ll show you a far more sensible way to deal with gridlock.”
The sound of the crowd quickly faded as they followed the path through the massive coniferous forest. It was hard to believe they were more than two hundred stories above the ground.
“Why didn’t one of Valdemar’s haulds simply give Ivar a ship, like I did?” Harry asked.
“Because none of his haulds have more than ten ships,” Lothbrok replied cheerfully. “He distributes them. If a few have extras, he’ll take them away, buy however many he needs to get ten, and name a new hauld. His chief use for a hauld is not combat, but votes. It bit him in the ass today because none of them could support Ivar without losing their own status in the process.”
They passed out through a series of sliding doors and found themselves waiting in the cold evening air with several Weirans in business attire and a handful of Midgaard, their breath misting as they chatted.
“Thank you, by the way.” Lothbrok had grown suddenly serious as he looked over at his Human friend. “Your offer of service is the only thing that saved my status today. Odin would never have been able to give me Ivar’s holdings if I had been demoted. Only a hauld can receive the proceeds of a demotion.”
“You would do the same for me.” Harry shrugged.
“You mean I have done the same for you!”
Harry laughed. “True enough. I suppose you did play a small role in rescuing me from Presh. Anyway, enough about how I’ve more than repaid the favor; what is this sensible way you’ve discovered that deals with gridlock?”
In answer, Lothbrok gestured at an approaching vehicle. It almost looked like a small cathedral though it was built out of glass and steel rather than stone. It was roughly oval in cross section and five levels high. It was enclosed in a wall of windows, each four feet wide by fifty high. A pair of maglift engines protruded from both sides near the curved bottom of the craft. A ledge halfway up on the starboard side held a small patio and a collection of trees. More decorative foliage on the top indicated yet another outdoor space.
“What the hell is that?” Harry muttered, half to himself.
“That, my good fellow, is a bar.” Lothbrok stepped over to the edge, displaying the complete disregard for heights common to his people. “The absolute best use for a mag-lev engine yet devised.”
Harry forced himself to join Lothbrok as the vehicle slowed to a stop in front of them. The doors opened and his body shuddered involuntarily at the delicious heat inside the unusual craft. He looked up at the network of catwalks and seating areas that filled the space between the tiled floor and the citrus-wood ceiling.
Lothbrok made his way straight to a bar on the first floor, ordering two ales in Dheema. He insisted on heading for the rooftop and the craft was still at the platform when they found patio seats near the port side.
“Where does this thing take us?” Harry took a deep drink and leaned back in his seat, enjoying the heat radiating up from its deep cushions.
“Every shift change, these things leave the city center and follow the main transit spokes to the outskirts, where you can take a shuttle that won’t end up stuck
in traffic,” Lothbrok explained.
“Does it get us there any faster?” Harry was watching a Midgaard, down on the platform, as he walked away from the bar. Must have changed his mind? The warrior approached the main doors to building and they slid open, revealing a small group waiting for him.
“Takes a little longer, with all the stops factored in,” Lothbrok replied raising his glass significantly. “But that’s kind of the whole point, isn’t it? They’ve taken what should be a pain in the ass and turned it into a thoroughly enjoyable experience.”
Harry looked at Lothbrok in amused silence for a few seconds. “I don’t know who provided their memories for the Fleet Standard English files, but they did not provide adequate cultural context to go along with it.” The ale in his glass tilted toward him as the large vehicle began to move back into the flow of traffic.
“Or am I just trying to be amusing?” A raised eyebrow.
Not sure if he’s just trying to save face or if he’s actually joking around. Either way… Harry shook his head, grinning. “We’ll be late meeting Towers,” he changed the subject. “Hopefully, it won’t put him off our plan.”
“You jest again?” Lothbrok gave a dismissive shrug. “He’ll see the sense of it, though he might seek to make some small adjustments. Adding two planets will remove a major problem here by stimulating the Weiran economy; it will mean new ships coming off the line.”
He grinned at Harry. “I was on the verge of losing my status this morning, and now I’m a hauld with two fiefs, about to add a third. Do you have any idea how hard it is to lose your status once you have a second fief? Once we hold Oaxes and Tauhento, we’ll be secure from Valdemar. He wouldn’t dare mess with us. We represent the economic security of the Alliance now. Caul and Odin won’t interfere with minor squabbles like the one this morning, but they would never tolerate Valdemar’s scheming if it endangered our overall economy.”
“Can’t make war without money,” Harry mused. “Earth is a plague zone, Midgaard is too far away. If we can’t resurrect the local economy then we all die.” He took a deep pull on his ale, leaning back with an appreciative sigh. “The Weiran senate will agree to hand over the traditional ‘warlord’ cut of the taxes once they see Tauhento and Oaxes embracing the concept.”
The Orphan Alliance (The Black Ships Book 3) Page 7