“Huh?” Cassie looked up from her plate.
“I think he’s referring to the Aesir-Vanir War which was first recorded by Snorri Sturluson in the thirteenth century,” Griffin said. “It’s a mythological battle between two tribes of deities which eventually merged into a single pantheon of Norse gods. The Vanir represented an older earth-based set of beliefs. The principal Vanir deities were the goddess Freya and her consort-brother Frey.”
“That sounds suspiciously matristic,” the Pythia said.
“As it should,” Griffin agreed. “It’s quite likely that the distant ancestors of the Scandinavian farmers originated in southern Europe or Anatolia. They worshipped a principal goddess who was accompanied by a year-god as her consort and/or son. Freya rides a chariot drawn by two cats which is strikingly similar to the Anatolian goddess Cybele whose chariot is drawn by two lions. The name ‘Freya’ itself simply means ‘Lady’ much like the word ‘Potnia’ meant ‘Divine Lady’ to the ancient Minoans. Her brother’s name means ‘Lord’. The parallels to matricentric cultures in the Mediterranean are unmistakable.”
“But the ways of the Battle-Axe overlords were different,” Lars countered between mouthfuls of food. “They lived to fight and they had no respect for the people who tended the land. They also had no respect for the shamans and seers of the herders and farmers.”
“That’s quite true,” the Scrivener picked up the thread. “In fact, the war between the Aesir and the Vanir was provoked because the overlord deities feared the growing influence of the Vanir seers among them. As the story goes, Odin and his forces attacked the Vanir in order to keep the Aesir Battle-Axe Culture from becoming contaminated by a different set of beliefs.”
“So you’re saying the Vanir were asking for it?” Cassie’s tone was sarcastic.
“I’m not saying it’s true,” Griffin protested. “I’m merely stating the rationale given for starting the war. I’m sure the Aesir’s real-life overlord counterparts justified many an invasion along similar lines.”
“That is so typical.” The Pythia threw her hands up in disgust. “It’s just like what happened when the Hellenic tribes overran Crete. In their myths, they said they were protecting Athenian youth from evil King Minos and his Minotaur. What a load of bull. Literally!” She caught a look of amazement on Griffin’s face and burst out laughing. “What, I’m not supposed to do research in my off hours?”
“I... uh...” The Scrivener seemed at a total loss for words.
“That’s very interesting but what happened between the Aesir and the Vanir?” Daniel prompted.
Griffin recovered himself enough to resume the tale. “After the two pantheons had been battling each other for some time, they realized neither one could win. Eventually, they called for a truce and an exchange of hostages. Freya and her brother went to live with the Aesir while Hoenir and Mimir, two overlord deities, went to live with the Vanir.”
“And in Norse mythology, Freya ended up as Odin’s wife. Also typical,” Cassie remarked acidly.
“I don’t understand.” Daniel mumbled self-consciously.
“Whenever overlord tribes move into an area, they start tinkering with the local mythology,” the Pythia explained. “The previous reigning goddess gets demoted and becomes the old ball-and-chain of the invader’s god. The origin myths of Greece, Rome, Egypt, India and China all follow the same pattern.”
“I see.” Daniel furrowed his brow. “So, in all likelihood, Freya would have been the supreme divinity of the Scandinavian countries before the arrival of the overlord steppe invaders and their god Odin.”
“Precisely,” Griffin concurred.
“The Aesir-Vanir truce was not so much of a compromise either,” Lars chimed in, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Because the overlords took over the land, the Aesir deities got to have things their way. They kept the two most important gods of the Vanir—Freya and Frey—while all the Vanir got in exchange were two gods nobody ever heard of before and one of them ended up losing his head.”
“The victors get to rewrite mythology,” the Pythia pointed out. “And that’s the only version anybody remembers.”
Daniel turned to Lars. “The Saami tribe you spoke about earlier. I assume they’re matristic. Do they still worship Freya as their principal goddess?”
Lars smiled. “The Saami lived in this land long before the farmers who worshipped Freya. They pray to Ahkka but that is a story for tomorrow when we visit her mountain.” He rose unexpectedly and announced, “I am going back for more food. These plates are not big enough.”
Chapter 37—Global Warning
Erik slipped inside his room and relocked the door. He leaned against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief. He’d managed to get to Metcalf’s office, search it, and return undetected. It was around one o’clock in the morning but he immediately retrieved his cell phone and dialed Maddie’s number. She was going to want to hear this.
He sank into his easy chair and waited for her to pick up.
“Wha...?” came the drowsy response.
“Maddie, it’s Erik. Sorry to call so late.”
“Hang on...”
He heard background sounds as she shifted the phone, switched on a light and readjusted her position. “It’s the middle of the night. This better be good.”
“Oh, it is. I just got back from Metcalf’s office.”
“You searched it like I asked?” The Chatelaine sounded alert now.
“Yup. And I found it.”
There was a shocked silence on the other end. “You mean the list?”
“The very one.” He couldn’t keep a gleeful tone out of his voice.
Ever since Maddie had ordered him to bug the Diviner’s office, she and her security team at the Vault had been obsessed with discovering the details of Metcalf’s plague attack. The Chatelaine wanted to know who he was targeting and why. The spy app on the Diviner’s phone had been helpful to a point. The Arkana now knew that Metcalf intended to unleash pneumonic plague at particular locations around the globe. They knew he had ordered Joshua to select 150 vaccinated men to distribute the plague in metal water bottles which were actually gas canisters of the deadly airborne virus. However, none of the conversations they’d overheard gave any clue as to which countries were being targeted much less which regions in those countries would be the plague epicenters. Tonight, Erik had stumbled across the answers to both those questions.
“Well? You’re testing my patience.” Maddie sounded as if she were growing irritable.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist a dramatic pause.” The Paladin chuckled. “I had to pick a lock on one of his desk drawers but I found the countries he’s targeting. I wrote down the names but I don’t want to risk texting them to you. Have you got a pen?”
He waited until Maddie fumbled for pad and paper, then read off the list.
“Those are the top fifty developed countries in the world,” she murmured as she finished capturing the names.
“On every continent, too,” Erik remarked. “I think that was intentional. Metcalf probably wants to impact the largest possible geographic area.”
“I suppose it’s feasible,” Maddie admitted. “It only took a dozen Genoese merchant ships with twenty plague-infected crewmen each to start a pandemic that wiped out half of Europe in the fourteenth century.”
“I think it’s kind of creepy that you know that,” the Paladin said.
“Ever since your return from the dead, I’ve made plague history my personal trivial pursuit.” She hesitated as another thought struck her. “Fifty countries is a pretty big target. With only a three-man crew deployed per country, it would take years for the plague to spread.”
“Yeah but he isn’t planning on taking down an entire country’s population.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask.” Maddie’s voice held a note of dread.
“I’m almost afraid to tell you,” the Paladin countered. “I couldn’t find details on each of the countries except for some s
cribbled notes about one. The good old US of A. I’m assuming his strategy will be the same in all the others.”
“And that is?” Her tone remained wary.
Erik sighed. “He’s targeted the Capital Building, the New York Stock Exchange and Atlanta International Airport.”
The information was met with dead silence as Maddie processed the information. “My goddess!” She seemed stunned. “He’s trying to bring down central government, transportation and the economy.”
“It’s a surgical strike,” Erik elaborated. “A single canister of plague virus could be carried in a back pack through an airport terminal or the lobby of the stock exchange or the visitor’s gallery of Congress. Even if the carrier was stopped at a security checkpoint, he could always leave his innocent looking empty water bottle near an air return vent somewhere around the building. If only a fraction of the people who worked in those places was infected, the virus would spread exponentially. Visitors just passing through any of those target locations would contaminate people during their travels. By the time the CDC even figured out what the problem was, it would be too late. There are no antibiotics that can kill this strain of virus and no known vaccines that could stop it.”
“So he wants to destroy a country’s infrastructure,” the Chatelaine speculated.
“I think he wants to do more than that.” Now Erik’s tone was grim. “Remember the sarin gas attacks in the Tokyo subway a few years back?”
“Yeah, I do. What’s your point?”
“Well, the lunatic in charge of that cult believed that he could stir up a global war by blaming the attacks on Japan’s enemies. While everybody was busy fighting everybody else, he thought he could step in and take over.”
“You think Metcalf wants to rule the world?” Maddie seemed unconvinced. “That’s a bit of a stretch.”
“No, chief. That’s not what I think.” He hesitated. “Metcalf wants the Fallen world to destroy itself. If all the superpowers suspect each other of orchestrating the plague attacks, they’ll start a global war. One that nobody will survive. Between crippled transportation, political instability, economic meltdown, looting in the streets, plague deaths, and World War III, the human population of the planet would be decimated. The only communities left intact will be Nephilim.”
“How does he think his own people will survive if he destroys the entire infrastructure? Where will they get food? How will they operate machinery or cars without fuel?” Maddie asked.
“That I don’t know,” Erik admitted. “I’d chalk it up to crazy man logic. God will provide and all that jazz.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Erik heard the familiar click of a lighter and a deeply exhaled breath. He assumed Maddie had lit up a cigarette while she pondered a strategy.
“Any ideas, chief?” the Paladin asked hopefully.
“No ideas yet, just a promise. If it’s the last thing we do, the Arkana is going to spoil Metcalf’s party plans for Armageddon.”
Chapter 38—Massif Obstacles
Cassie and Griffin crawled into the back seat of the minivan while Daniel claimed the passenger seat up front with Lars. The Pythia checked her watch and groaned. It was barely seven in the morning and already the sun was blazing overhead. She’d had a restless night since it was impossible to sleep in a land where nature refused to catch forty winks. It seemed as if she’d only shut her eyes for five minutes before Lars came knocking at her door chirping about the need for an early start. He rousted out his three charges in a boomingly cheerful voice which brooked no refusal. After they’d collected their wits, gotten dressed, packed their gear, and stumbled to the lobby to meet him, he hustled them into the van which sat idling by the front door. It jolted into motion the second they were all loaded inside.
Lars had thoughtfully placed a basket of food on the back seat since they wouldn’t have time for a proper breakfast in the hotel dining room. Two large thermoses of hot coffee had also been provided. The Scrivener immediately poured a cup for Cassie.
She silently mouthed the words “thank you,” not trusting that her vocal cords were functioning yet.
Griffin leaned forward and passed two breakfast sandwiches to Daniel and Lars before helping himself.
“We have a long way to travel today,” Lars cautioned as he steered the vehicle onto the highway leading out of town. “It will take some time to reach the mountain and we have much to do once we get there.”
Daniel nodded his assent, his mouth full of food.
Griffin handed Cassie a breakfast bun. She, in turn, handed him an empty coffee cup which he promptly refilled.
Their guide switched on the radio and cranked up the volume. It was playing a musical number that fell into the category of polka acid rock, if such a thing existed.
The Pythia rubbed her forehead. “Lars, could you turn the radio down a little bit? I need more coffee before I can appreciate that sound.”
“Oh, of course.” He lowered the volume by a single decibel.
Cassie gritted her teeth and sank down in the seat. She wrapped her windbreaker collar around her ears, hoping the fabric would muffle the noise.
They journeyed in a westerly direction until the road veered northwest at Lake Akkajaure and hugged the flat terrain along its northern shore. The man-made reservoir was long and narrow, more like a river than a lake. Its opposite shore was bordered by mountains, their peaks rolling off into the distance before disappearing altogether in the mists beyond. Not a single town or sign of human habitation could be seen. Given the remoteness of the region, the two-lane highway on which the minivan drove was in surprisingly good shape.
For the next half hour, the travelers silently ate their breakfasts and sipped coffee. The only sounds consisted of the bizarre musical mash-up emanating from Lars’ favorite radio station and their guide’s periodic requests for a sandwich. Eventually, calories and caffeine rendered them all lively enough to converse.
“So today our destination is Ahkka Mountain?” Daniel ventured.
Lars thankfully shut off the radio before replying. “It is the holiest of all places to the Lule Saami.”
“You mentioned the Saami at dinner last night,” the Scion recalled. “Reindeer herders?”
“Yes. They have been in Scandinavia at least since 6000 BCE. For eight thousand years, they have been tending the animals in this land. The Saami say they do not count the money in their wallets. They count the reindeer in their herds.”
“I bet they do a brisk business with Santa Claus,” Cassie quipped.
Lars darted a glance in the rearview mirror and smiled. “Oh, Lady Pythia! You remind me of a funny story about Santa and his reindeer.”
“You don’t believe they’re real, do you?” Daniel asked cautiously.
This comment made the guide chuckle. “I know they are pretend but they are also girls.”
“What?” Cassie and Griffin both sat at attention, fully awake now.
“You know how overlords like to think that males are in charge of everything in the world.” Lars glanced around for confirmation.
His passengers slowly nodded their heads, not quite sure where the conversation was going.
“Well, here is the thing about reindeer. The herds are led by the females who have lived the longest. Both males and females have antlers but they lose them at different times of the year. The males’ horns fall off in the autumn after mating season is over. The females keep theirs until the babies are born in the spring. That means the females are the ones who defend the herd against predators all winter because they still have horns. And the ones with the biggest antlers of all are the oldest females.”
“I see.” Griffin smiled, getting the joke. “Since Santa’s mythical sleigh ride takes place in December, and all of his reindeer have impressive antlers, that must mean—”
Lars cut in. “That all his reindeer are old ladies!”
Cassie found herself grinning despite her sleep deprivation. “Somebod
y should break the news to Rudolph or he’ll have a big surprise coming when he grows up.”
They all laughed, taking a few moments to savor the joke.
“Not to change the subject, Lars,” Daniel hinted. “But you were telling us about the Saami?”
“Of course,” their guide agreed affably. “The Saami tribes came from Siberia like all the gatherer-hunters in the northern lands. Their shamans practice many of the same rituals. You can think of them like your Native Americans. The Saami even live in what you call teepees.”
“Do they look like Native Americans?” the Scion asked. “I mean Asiatic.”
“No, they are Caucasian—pale skin, light-colored hair and eyes. But they were treated just as badly as your Indian tribes.”
Griffin picked up the narrative. “When the Battle-Axe Culture first arrived in Scandinavia around 3000 BCE, the glaciers had receded enough to uncover more ground in the polar region. This opened up additional grazing land for reindeer so the Saami simply moved out of reach of the invaders. The overlords had little use for gatherer-hunters or herders. They were primarily interested in conquering tribes of farmers who could be enslaved to work the land. Consequently, the Saami kept their distance in the northernmost tier of the Norse countries as well as the Kola Peninsula of Russia.”
Lars continued. “The Saami homelands are called Lapland and span all of northern Scandinavia above the Arctic Circle. The overlords carved up that territory anyway and added it to their domains which meant the herders fell under their control. After Christianity arrived in this part of the world, the overlords became eager to make the Saami behave like everybody else. By the 1700s, the herders were forced to convert to the Lutheran religion. The drums of their shamans were seized or destroyed. The people were forbidden to live in their traditional dwellings or keep reindeer herds. They were commanded to send their children to overlord schools and even banned from speaking their native tongues.”
The Sage Stone Prophecy (Arkana Archaeology Adventure Series Book 7) Page 22