Isegrim paced back and forth and grunted. "What is it that takes so long? He is a Union doctor in Odin's name, he should be able to fix whatever is wrong in no time."
Erik Gustav glanced at the priceless mantle clock above the fire place, an antique his family had brought from Earth a little over 2800 years ago. He had it restored by an expert only ten years ago and it kept time in a very peculiar way by pointing two arms at the circular arranged numbers around the clock's face. It was Gothorm Ragnarsson, his grandfather who had shown him how to read the time. The two mechanical hands had almost joined at the top. It was only a minute before midnight. Of course the clock kept Earth time, but since days on Nilfeheim lasted month and nights years, the colonists had kept to the 24 hour division of the day.
While he stared at the clock he remembered that one of his Assembly colleagues told him that many of the old Terran Human colonies still kept OTT, Old Terran Time. It simply seemed natural to humans and fit their natural biological rhythm. He tried to keep himself calm remembering these trivial facts at a time like that.
The larger one of the clocks hands moved with a fine almost inaudible click. Almost at the same time the bright cold white bluish light of a flash illuminated everything for briefest moment and the following thunder felt as if it actually shook the massive stone walls.
The door to Ilva's bed room opened and Freydis, the wife of Hogun Olafson and Ilva's midwife appeared, holding something swaddled in a blanket. "Lord Isegrim, behold thy son!"
Isegrim forgot everything, all his selfish thoughts all his plans to kill the woman and the child to gain the riches as he saw the tiny pinkish human baby. The very first thing he saw was that his son had his eyes wide open, blue eyes with a shade of gray. The baby raised his incredibly small arms towards his face. With shaking hands, with a flood of unexplainable pride and a feeling that even he recognized as love he took the infant and held it up. "Odin and Thor behold all ye Aseir. This is my son!"
Erik Gustav was moved with feelings very similar. A son was born, the Ragnarsson legacy would continue. Yet the wave of pride was swept aside as he saw the doctor coming out the room. "My daughter, how is she? And where is the other baby?"
The doctor said. "You should have called me much earlier. The midwife is good but your daughter had an acute and life-threatening complication in the last state of her pregnancy, characterized by the appearance of tonic–clonic seizures. It is called Eclampsia and I had to call Med Central to diagnose and treat it right. It is virtually..."
Erik Gustav yelled, interrupting the medic. "Dr. Dwyer how is she?"
"I have her in a deep sleep, she will recover fully and I managed to keep the boy alive. The girl however is still born and beyond any medical help."
Isegrim still holding the baby. "My son is healthy?"
"Your baby boy is the picture of health and the first baby I ever delivered that was born with open eyes, rare but not completely unknown."
The Midwife said. "He is a warrior born like no other, mighty Isegrim. When the doctor slapped his behind he did not cry, but clenched his tiny fist and raised his arm as if he wanted to strike back at whoever slapped him."
The baby had gotten a hold of Isegrims's beard and the tiny creature smiled. Isegrim cooed . "He knows his father and his grip is strong, oh aye he is an Olafson!" Then he held the baby out to Erik Gustavson.
The patriarch of the Ragnarssons also raised the baby to his face. He had seen many wondrous sights on Pluribus and yet that rosy little boy that reached with his arms outshone all the wonders of the Universe. He reminded him of his own children as he held them for the first time, one of them being his daughter, the mother of this baby. "Hail to you my grandson, hail Eric Thor Olafson, may your life be long and your way be true!"
Isegrim said to the doctor. "My wife?"
The doctor told him the same thing he said to Erik Gustav and they all went in to see her. She looked peaceful, her golden hair like a precious veil around her. Yet even Isegrim could not fight his emotions as he saw the tiny shape covered underneath a piece of cloth on the bed beside her. He told himself that she was just a girl and he did not care for the woman or the babies, and that his true love was waiting in Halstaad Fjord. They had decided it was wisest for Gretel not to be at the Burg, especially since Erik Gustav was here. Yet as he thought of Gretel and saw his wife and the dead born girl, he decided to let her wait till the very last Longnight occurred on Nilfeheim and be a better husband and the best father Nilfeheim ever saw. Whatever hold that blonde devil had over him felt suddenly broken. His son would be the heir to all Olafson and Ragnarsson. His son, never had words more meaning to him. "The girl shall find eternal rest with the warriors and first ladies of Olafson and she will receive a send of like no other woman has ever received, she shall not die without a name. Her name will be Freya and such will it say on the Mehir raised in her memory!"
***
Not just Erik Gustav noticed the change in Isegrim as he came down the stairs the very next day with Ilva on his arm, carefully walking. Both decked out in their finest. Isegrim wearing full clan chief regalia, the clan necklace however covered with a black cloth signifying the death of an important clan warrior. He also wore Hevnen the sword.
Ilva in a long flowing gown of blackest velvet, with golden seams. Her hair reaching past her waist brushed into a luster, that made gold look dull and cheap in comparison. A black veil before her face signified her mourning.
There in the High Hall everyone living at the Burg and the Elders of Nilfeheim had gathered. Even the low men had been called and had a chance to clean themselves. Erik Gustav waking behind them holding the baby, this time swaddled in suede leather and Nubhir fur lined blanket that was Olafson Red . it was embroidered with the wolf heads and the silver falcon. Ilva making this blanket in the many month of her pregnancy.
Isegrim stopped at the five step stairs that led from the so called Lord's retreat into the High Hall of the Ragnarsson Burg. Then he took the bundle from Erik Gustav and held the child high so all could see and with a booming voice he proclaimed. "This is my first born son, brought to this world by my wife the First Lady of this Clan. We also mourn the loss of my daughter Freya Olafson, who was taken by Hel." He lowered the baby and said. "This day and tomorrow will be in her honor and I command you to strip all flags and cover all shields. To the stone cutters I say cut me a Mehir and emboss her name upon it, but in ten days from today, we will gather to celebrate the naming day of my son."
Erik Gustav said. "To send my granddaughter off to the plane of the dead in fashion befitting, I command the cellars to be opened and the kitchens to provide the finest for a feast in her honor for all of you, tonight you are all guests and no difference shall be made as what your stand might be. Tonight we are united in grief and membrance. This the way we send of the most honored among us."
Isegrim handed the newborn back to Erik Gustav. The Ragnarsson scion stood two steps higher and the tiny baby reached out and his tiny hand touched Mjördaren.
It was of course a completely random event, but there was hardly a society in all the Universe who put more credit into signs and omen than the Neo Vikings of Nilfeheim. A collective sigh went through the assembled crowd and one of the Elders said. "Not rattles or toys are what a new born Olafson reaches for, nay but a sword. A warrior born indeed!"
Chapter 7: Naming Day
A new egg shaped stone, cut from a single two ton boulder marked the grave of the little girl. The stone had been dug out from underneath the snow, a stone mason had chiseled the name Freya Olafson and the date into the stone and the it was carried to the cemetery behind the community round house.
There, also under a thick layer of snow were the rock mounds and rock markers of the graves of the most revered. On a planet with so little land, the dead usually received a burial at sea. The greatest warriors and heroes were burned aboard a wooden ship, the wood brought all the way from Earth. The old clans, however maintained a burial field behind the Rou
ndhouse and all the way to Mount Asgard. It was there where they had placed the little body of the dead born girl.
Ilva the mother of the girl wrapped in a black fur brimmed cloak stood there. The wind pulling on her cape. Her face hidden behind a fine fur Nubhir wolf mask. The men were all gone after she had asked to be alone for a while. Her father had left a flyer for her to use behind and only after the third assurance that she would be fine they had left.
The bitter cold had long penetrated the cape and her insulated clothing underneath, yet she did not want to leave just yet. She had so looked forward to raise the twins. To have a girl of her own, hoping she would grow up in a better world.
All her life she had been raised to be a proper Nilfeheim woman and after her mother died, she had first hated her father but she knew how much he had loved her and that it was a terrible accident. She then tried to be a good daughter, especially as fate was not kind to the Ragnarsson clan and her older brother had died in a Tyranno Hunting accident.
She sensed his presence and said without turning, "She is dead Old Egill. I have a beautiful son, but his sister is dead." Her voice was just a hint above a whisper.
"I could be twice as old, lovely Ilva and still would not know what to say to make it easier for you. Nilfeheim is Hel's realm and this our world is aptly named."
"It would not have happened if we opened a little more to the worlds beyond our orbit, but women are still nothing but ornaments meant for pleasure, bearing sons for them."
"Death happens even on Pluribus, the old reaper has not lost his sting and old Hel has never suffered shortage. As you know I hoped Freya would be the one, the one I could raise as a Warrior."
She turned to look at the equally thickly bundled up old man they often called the Wizard of Nilfeheim. "I so wish Tyr would be here." She knew she could not see her sad smile but she knew he could sense it.
He pulled her close and said. "He knows my child, I am sure and knowing him he will be the first Tyranno that weeps. Now let us go back, your son is alive and he does need his mother."
***
Erik Gustav had spared no expenses to make the naming day of his grandson a momentous event. The Burg was made snow and ice free as possible. Flags and banners everywhere and even the low men had received new clothing. Every room in the burg was filled with guests, many clan chiefs were invited and all the Elders. A delegation from Hasvik along with the First Keeper was there, even Bjorn Igvarhein the operator of Nilfeheim Radio was there to record the event and broadcast it.
The tables almost buckled under the weight of the mountains of food. A dozen grills with entire Fangsnappers slowly turning over open flame. There were stacks of barrels of beer, ale and mead.
The ceremony drew near and again just like at the wedding, oak tree branches had been transported all the way from Earth and decorated the High Hall, the Elders had brought the most precious artifact of the planet, an altar to Odin made of pure platinum. It was richly decorated depicting the one-eyed god, his ravens and all the other symbols associated with the father of the Aseir. It had been placed just beyond the five wide steps that led from the High Hall to the Lords retreat area. The big table that usually was at the center of the High Hall had been pushed to the side and chairs
were placed in rows to the left and right of a dark red carpet running from the main entrance all across the polished stone floor of the High Hall and to the Odin Altar.
High iron wrought braziers and oil fed torches lined the walls. From the twenty meter high vaulted ceiling hung the famous eight huge chandeliers made of Tyranno Fin bones and the skulls of long perished enemies of the Olafson clan had been brought from the Old Olafson rock to symbolize that this was now the new Burg of the clan. Each of these chandeliers had thirty-six of these sud blackened skulls with a long lasting candle burning in each of the skulls half open jaws. These macabre lamps were the source of many legends and were known far beyond the walls of the Olafson Clan. Isegrim standing in his finest Chief regalia looked up to these chandeliers. It was an old Olafson game to know the name of each enemy , whose cranium bone was attached up there. Each time a mistake was made, a tankard of ale had to be emptied. Only massive Hogun was ever able to beat him in that game.
No ancient symbol had been overlooked; Odin's spear lay upon the altar, the Elders wore their white robes and the goði, the priests from Hasvik , had added dark red capes to their robes. The first keeper an old man wore a robe adorned with the world tree Yggdrasil embroidered on his chest. Over hundred fifty Clan chiefs in full regalia, swords and shields accompanied by first sons, warriors and wives filled the mighty hall. Even a delegation of Clan Chiefs of the East had been arrived and welcomed. The Eldest, the hermit they called the wizard of Nilfeheim was here as well and that he had left his lonely burg was seen as an omen of great importance.
Gretel was standing in the back, next to Brunar Bendixen, disguised with a dark wig and a veil. She had used a generous dose of the Shaill pheromone to attract the man and then spiked his ale with an illegal hypno drug. Despite her sister’s complaints, she had not wasted her time spending time in virtual reality. There she talked to others and there she learned about the subtle ways to entice and control others via psycho drugs. After she had heard of it she soaked up every bit of knowledge she could find. Her sister's money purchased a neural upload on Shaill poisons and toxins. She even learned about Connectors and one based on Twilight Moon supplied her with a small collection of Shaill hyno drugs, pheromone perfumes and deadly poisons. Of course, the possession and use of such drugs was highly illegal. She cared little about that, she was beyond Union law on Nilfeheim. Here, the knowledge she had gained and the content of the little box would make her a queen and give her the tools for revenge. The Shaill, a very disgusting species of huge sentient slugs had based an entire civilization on the mastery of biochemistry and could at will make their glands produce the most complex and potent bio toxins and compounds. While it wasn't Psionics and the potions could only increase and reinforce emotions that were already there, but with the help of inhibition lowering and hypno suggestive psycho drugs the primitive men of this cold world could be molded to her will.
How Isegrim freed himself was not entirely clear to her, but seeing him with his son and that blonde bitch, she suspected strong emotions overpowered the effects of her drugs. It took little persuasion to convince Brunar to take her along, introduced as a high lady of his clan. The Bendixen clan was not an ally of the Ragnarssons and an open enemy to the Olafsons, but it was tradition to invite friend and enemy alike on a day like this. That they had to stand in the back was due to the fact that there weren't enough chairs left and it was the allies and friends of the clans that had reserved seats.
Next to Brunar stood his father Odvar Bendixen, he too was under the influence of Gretel's hypno drugs, he too needed little convincing to simply ignore her. He was talking to the clan chief of the Elhir. Leif Elhir who like Isegrim had just recently become the leader of his clan snorted. "That whelp they name today, is celebrated like a the coming of the first king of Nilfeheim."
Odvar Bendixen kept watching the last guests arrive. "Aye and the first king he just might be. His name is going to be Eric and he is going to inherit not just the riches of the Ragnarssons, this shrewd clan has gathered on this world, but the billions Erik Gustav has. There isn't a week going by one of his freighters lands. Do you know how much a freighter like that costs?"
"No and what need would I have for such a thing? We are Norse."
"You could by every boat and sub on Nilfeheim and have the spare change to buy a hundred more. Maybe that illustrates it better to you. We are not as isolated from the rest of the Union as you think. Wealth is power and in that regards Erik Gustav is more powerful than all the clans."
Gretel could barely keep quiet. She had seen what the money of her sister could buy, and if her plans came to fruition, those billions would be hers.
Leif said. "His father had to hire on our boats to k
eep his clan fed and now Isegrim spends more coin on the naming of his son than his clan has seen in five Long nights. What I like to know is, what they paid the hermit to come down from his rock."
"Yes, that would be interesting to know. His endorsement would get me a seat in the circle right away. Yet he is known to refuse even the most generous gifts. They say he is a wizard and has the ear of the gods."
Gretel could not hold back and whispered." There is no such thing as gods and there are no wizards."
Odvar turned to her and the thin veneer of psycho drugs could not change the fact that he was a Nilfeheim man."Silence woman, don't blaspheme. How are you again?"
She lowered her head. "I am the companion of Brunar, thy lordship."
He grunted. "Then know your place and be silent. It behooves you not to speak when Chiefs converse. A woman is silent and knows her place. Brunar see that she knows her place and later you will tell me from what clan she hails and why the proper traditions have not be kept."
Brunar tried to remember and looked at Gretel. "I don't really remember."
Gretel was saved by a blasting of horns and pipes, calling the assembled to attention. She knew how close she came to lose it all. The bio chemicals worked but it seemed the effect was not as strong as she hoped. She also remembered the warning of her Virtu instructor, that strong emotions could break the bio chemical spell.
The music played on the old instruments swelled to a rousing tune, every Norse knew. The hymn to the Seven Aseir was a well liked sacred melody.
Then the crowd became silent as the Eldest of them all. Egill Skalagrimsson came walking along the red carpet carrying a heavy object. Someone whispered. "It is the Blótbolli."
Brunar asked his father. "Is that the cup they made of the Nogoll skull. Do you know the story?"
Eric Olafson Series Boxed Set: Books 1 - 6 (The Galactic Chronicles Series) Page 159